Kyle Garrick X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Beautiful People, Beautiful Problems ᡣ𐭩 Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kinktober Day X: Aphrodisiacs

summary: you and kyle try special chocolate tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, slapping, praise, degradation, p in v, fingering, rough sex wc: 2k

a/n: for the sake of time i had to cut it short but i may come back to change it up

MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you wanna take these?” you asked, flipping the packaging over to the other side. Your eyes flickered over the ingredients.

“She said they were pretty potent.” You said, looking back up at your boyfriend sitting across from you. His infectious smile causes one of your own to bud on your lips. Heat rose to your cheeks as you gazed at him through your lashes.

“I’m sure,” he answered, shifting closer to you as he slipped the box from your hands. He reached inside, the plastic wrapping crinkling as he took them out. He pinched the seal on both sides, pulling it apart before turning it upside down. Two dark chocolate squares rested against his palm, connected by a thin line of chocolate.

You intently watched as he snapped them apart before placing one of them in your hand. You stared down at the chunk of candy, assessing it silently before looking back at him. He met your gaze, his eyes glancing from your palm to your face, seemingly waiting for your instruction.

“Should we try and see how long we can stay away from each other?” You inquired, grinning as you watched his reaction fall upon his face. “No?” You giggled as his brows pulled together as he prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue, clearly considering your proposal. His usual soft brown gaze turned hard as he pierced you underneath his stare.

“Fine. But you won't last.” Kyle sniffed, raising the candy to his lips while waiting for you to do the same.

“What makes you say that?” You scoffed softly, the corners of your lips curling in a hint of amusement as you deliberately refrained from mirroring his movements. You sat still, waiting for him to respond, and playfully narrowed your eyes slightly in his direction.

“Because I have specific training–”

“So this is what you boys get up to for training?” You interrupted, subtly gesturing towards the chocolate in his hand.

“Maybe,” He smirked mischievously, his lips curling up at the corners as he shot you a playful wink. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he chuckled at your disapproving scowl.

“I’m just playin’ with ya’, love.” His touch was gentle as he patted your leg, and you could feel the warmth of his fingers as he dragged them up and down your skin.

“But I do have better self-control.” he pulled away, taking a generous bite of the dark brown square.

“We’ll see.” You held the piece of chocolate to your lips, savoring its rich aroma before taking a small bite. The firm, glossy shell yielded to the pressure of your teeth, releasing a burst of bittersweet flavor as it broke into delectable fragments.

It only took about half an hour for you to start feeling the effects: a warm ache sprouted between your legs, causing your thighs to press together to alleviate the discomfort. The warmth quickly spread throughout your body until you almost considered tearing off your clothes.

Knowing Kyle was sitting pretty right next to you burned even hotter. You contemplated forfeiting the challenge and having your way with him if only it weren't for your pride.

Kyle seemed to notice your subtle squirming in the dimly lit room. His brows furrowed in curiosity as he observed you, the faint sounds of your struggle music to his ears. He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. The corner of his mouth twitched in a suppressed smile as he tried to gauge your reaction.

"Everything alright?" he asked coyly, his British accent a smooth melody in the silence. He set the glass down, leaning forward slightly to brush a stray lock of hair from your cheek. The warmth radiating off him only intensified the sensations coursing through you. "You look...flushed." He teased as eyes danced between yours, trying to read your reaction.

You could sense the shift in the atmosphere, and your pulse quickened in response. The game had begun, and you were ready to see how far you'd both go before surrendering.

“I’m fine,” you gently pushed his hand away, unable to bear the intensity of his touch. Feeling as though you might combust on the spot from the overwhelming rush of emotions, “you?”

Kyle chuckled low in his throat, his eyes glinting knowingly. He could tell you were affected, and that knowledge raced a thrill through you. He leaned backwards against the headboard, taking another slow, deliberate drink of his beverage while keeping you in his sight.

"Never better," he responded, his voice dropping a notch lower than usual, husky with unspoken desire. The sound of his voice had your thighs clamping shut and your teeth catching the skin of your lips. You knew he was watching, but you didn't care; you were so close to simply shoving your hands down your pants to touch yourself.

That’s not a bad idea. You thought to yourself, quickly sitting up to pull off your clothes until you were nude as the day you were born.

“Giving up already?” came his smug voice from behind you. You refused to dignify him with a response as you slipped your panties down your legs before settling back into bed, purposefully refusing to hide your naked body from his hungry gaze.

“I was just feeling a little hot,” you said after a moment, reaching your hands upwards to wrap around your breasts, tweaking your sensitive nipples as he watched.

“Fuck,” you whispered, arching your chest into your hands, kicking off the comforter still covering your legs. You smile in self-satisfaction once you hear Kyle let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself as he watches. You knew he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, no matter how much he tried.

You trailed your hands lower, scraping your nails against your skin until your fingers swiped over your wet folds, pressing the pads of your fingers against your pulsing clit, hips immediately bucking in response. You reached behind you, curling your fist into your pillow as you arched your back, whining as your movements picked up.

“Kyle,” you moaned, exposing your neck as you shifted your head to the side.

You shivered as he groaned your name, your pussy clenching in response. “You’re not playing fair,” he whined, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removed his clothes. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to resist his temptation.

“I didn't know there were other rules,” you huffed in amusement. The bed creaked, dipping low as Kyle settled his weight back onto it. He pushed closer before he leaned over you, his hand replacing yours.

“Let me,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. He brushed your hair aside and pressed a tender kiss to the sensitive spot below it as he began to work his fingers skillfully between your folds, drawing more wanton moans from your lips.

“Just like that, love?” he whispered as his thumb circled your clit as his fingers sank into your wet heat. You nodded, letting out another whine as you arched into his touch, chasing the unbridled pleasure igniting scorching flames underneath your skin.

Gaz’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as your body writhed beneath his touch. He increased the pace and pressure, determined to bring you to the brink. As he continued to tease your clit, Kyle leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans. He felt your body tense, your muscles tightening around his fingers, and knew you were close. He thrust two fingers inside you, curling them upward to hit your G-spot, and you broke apart in his arms, your orgasm rolling over you like a wave. When your tremors subsided, he broke the kiss and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, brushing your hair away from damp skin.

You let out a startled yelp as Kyle flipped you over onto your stomach, reaching in front of you to grab a pillow before stuffing it underneath your hips.

“Fuck, I can't wait any longer,” he groaned, jerking his cock with one hand while he squeezed your ass, spreading it halfway as he pressed the tip of his cock to your leaky entrance and, without any more delay, pushing inside with a long, drawn-out moan. He immediately set a punishing pace, drilling his cock into your sopping pussy, both hands fully planted on your ass and pulling them apart to watch himself fuck you silly.

There were zero coherent thoughts in your mind; every word or sentence that could’ve formed had vanished entirely. You were a victim to your body’s desires, pressing your face into your pillow as you fucked yourself back on his cock, your muffled moans resounding in your head as he bullied himself in and out of your sensitive pussy.

You felt Kyle’s hand press against the top of your head, fingers curling into your scalp as he held you down. He anchored his foot against the bed, kneeling on one knee as he fucked into you deeper, debauched sounds escaping his mouth, noises you've never once heard him make.

“Oh, fuck yes!” he whimpered, tossing his head back as he panted, his balls tapping your clit with every rough and forceful shove into your wet and warm hole.

You tried to call his name, but there was no use; not only were you fucked incoherent, but there was no way he would be able to hear you as he practically suffocated you into the bed combined with the increasing volume of his voice, calling out your name like it was a prayer.

You were sure if he had tugged your hair back until your face met the ceiling, you would be screaming loud enough to alert the neighbors, and that would not end well for anyone, surely not yours.

Your fingers curled into the sheets below, your teeth latching onto the soft fabric as you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as your orgasm began to build in your low abdomen.

“Fuck m’so close,” he gritted out between his clenched teeth, his nails digging painfully into your cheeks, but it didn't matter. All you could feel was his cock pistoning in and out of your soft walls, his cock punching against your sensitive spot with every harsh beating of his narrow hips against yours.

“Y’gonna take it? Huh?” he chuckled, the sound reverberating into your lungs as he panted deeply behind you, his fingers digging into your curls before tugging you upward. You cried out at the mixture of pain and pleasure, your hand grappling with his as you attempted to climb further up the bed.

“No, no, no, no,” he tsked, tugging you backward, wrapping his bicep around your neck as he pulled you into his chest. “Don't run away,” he growled, his teeth latching onto your ear as he pressed his weight onto you, trapping you against the bed.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and take. What. I. Fucking. Give. You.” he punctuated each word with an upward sharp thrust, aiming for your G-spot each time.

You let out a garbled wail, your chest heaving with choked sobs until you reached your precipe with a silent scream, tasting the saltiness of your tears as they slipped into your gaping mouth.

“There you go, baby,” he purred, sucking on the skin of your neck as his pace increased, his hips stuttering as he neared his high. “Give it to me,” he grunted, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder as your pussy convulsed around him, ensnaring his cock in a vice-like grip, refusing to let him go.

“Yes yes yes yes! Oh, Shit!” He cried out, wrapping his other arm around your middle, pulling your body even further towards him as he used you like a doll made specifically for him. He let out of final whine, fucking into you as he came, refusing to slow down as he filled you up with his cum.

“Take it. Fucking take it.” Kyle groaned, his hips slowing into a deep and harsh grind, circling his cock inside of you and laughing at your pathetic whimper. He landed a harsh slap on your ass, watching as it ricocheted in response before he pulled himself away to spread your cheeks apart, slowly pulling his softening cock out of you as his cum leaked from your hole.

You both took moments to catch your breaths, chests heaving in sporadic motions as sweat, tears, and combined bodily fluids stuck to your skin. You twisted your head to the side, cringing as you felt your hair was bathed in sweat.

“Does this mean I won?” You teased before letting out a cry when another swift blow landed on your already sore cheek.

“Ow!” You whined, reaching behind you to rub at your stinging skin, shooting Kyle an angry look as he laughed. “Brat.” he snorted before removing your hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Tell your friend to get us some more.”

main masterlist, rules

Praying someone can help me find this cod Drabble fic thing jdjdjd

It was about Gaz going into like—a school to talk about stranger danger n’ the reader is the classroom teacher 😭❤️ it has been in my head for a hot minute whew

So random, but any Gaz lovers out there??? I need a beta reader for something I’m writing smut wise 👨‍🦯👨‍🦯

I have two beta readers but they usually beta read for smth else jdjjd so—if anyone wants to be a beta reader in general it would be greatly appreciated LMAOOO 🧎🧎🧎feel free to message if you’re interested

Along with having moots,,,I’m new to this if u couldn’t tell 🧎

A FEAST

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader // has female parts !

A/N; okay so! This is a small Drabble so it’s like—cut short a bit? Along with this is a Drabble and uses female parts! Short word count! Also I’m still getting used to writing so I apologize if this is messy (┳◇┳) I will edit when I see fit for myself aha!

NSFW under the cut!

Gaz doesn’t know how he found himself in this position. His head full of lust, his tongue sucking up your lower lips. Your plush thighs on the side of his head, caging him in. And your soft mewls of pleasure make him twitch in his pants. He just came back from deployment—unlocking the doors of the shred house just to find you dressed in beautiful lingerie. And he couldn’t help himself. You were wrapped up like a present, from him to unwrap over and over again. And he loved it. His mind is fuzzy as he finds himself kneeled, while you’re laid on your back on the edge of the bed.

He eats you out like a starved man. Your plush thighs over his shoulder, while his hands rest under your upper thighs. His hands knead your flesh while his mouth slobbers against your wet slicked folds. He hums in delight as your taste fills his mouth. Your whimpered moans make him hard, but your lower lips make him harder. He’s still clothed in his shorts, yet he has no shirt. Your body lays naked on the bed. Sweat trickling down your forehead.

“Fuck love..” he whispers as his licks over your clit. The sounds of wet slurping noises follow after, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine. He doesn’t speak to you—he speaks to your pussy. “So wet for me. So so fucking delicious.” He mutters, downright pussydrunk as his lips smack, covered in your juices.

His tongue is buried in your hole but peaks out to lick and feast more. Every time you try and squirm away his hold on you locks down. Forcing your body to push back up against his mouth, his nose, his face. His nose brushes up on your clit, officially making the majority of the bottom of his face wet with your slick.

His eyes close for a split second as he groans in pleasure. Inhaling your sex scent like it’s a new perfume. Slurping down your juices like a forbidden drink that’s supposed to be out of reach.

“Gaz!—Kyle.! Oh!” Your voice is hoarse as it calls out his Call Sign then his real name in pathetic mewls of pleasure.

One of your hands finds his head of hair, gripping it and making him grunt out. Your other hand trying to muffle your moans, yet proving unsuccessful as Gaz purposely trails up and down your wet folds and nips at your clit teasingly. Your body twitches in delight, his movements are so overwhelming. You can feel the knot in your lower belly. The way his tongue moves and explores your lower wet cavern. The way he doesn’t stop as he can feel you clench down on his tongue, only making him continue on more. He can taste you. He can feel you as you get more wetter under only his tongue and soft peppered kisses on your wetness.

Dripping, he thinks. You’re absolutely dripping. Soppy and wet and you coat his face so nice. His eyes peek open to look up. Your eyes are shut in pleasure and your mouth open as it produces those beautiful noises. His mouth leaves your soppy and quivering cunt for a moment, peppering wet kisses up your thighs. He can smell your scented body wash—inhaling it so nicely. But he cut himself short as his wet lips found your clit, his tongue teasing so nicely.

A FEAST

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader // has female parts !

A/N; okay so! This is a small Drabble so it’s like—cut short a bit? Along with this is a Drabble and uses female parts! Short word count! Also I’m still getting used to writing so I apologize if this is messy (┳◇┳) I will edit when I see fit for myself aha!

NSFW under the cut!

Gaz doesn’t know how he found himself in this position. His head full of lust, his tongue sucking up your lower lips. Your plush thighs on the side of his head, caging him in. And your soft mewls of pleasure make him twitch in his pants. He just came back from deployment—unlocking the doors of the shred house just to find you dressed in beautiful lingerie. And he couldn’t help himself. You were wrapped up like a present, from him to unwrap over and over again. And he loved it. His mind is fuzzy as he finds himself kneeled, while you’re laid on your back on the edge of the bed.

He eats you out like a starved man. Your plush thighs over his shoulder, while his hands rest under your upper thighs. His hands knead your flesh while his mouth slobbers against your wet slicked folds. He hums in delight as your taste fills his mouth. Your whimpered moans make him hard, but your lower lips make him harder. He’s still clothed in his shorts, yet he has no shirt. Your body lays naked on the bed. Sweat trickling down your forehead.

“Fuck love..” he whispers as his licks over your clit. The sounds of wet slurping noises follow after, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine. He doesn’t speak to you—he speaks to your pussy. “So wet for me. So so fucking delicious.” He mutters, downright pussydrunk as his lips smack, covered in your juices.

His tongue is buried in your hole but peaks out to lick and feast more. Every time you try and squirm away his hold on you locks down. Forcing your body to push back up against his mouth, his nose, his face. His nose brushes up on your clit, officially making the majority of the bottom of his face wet with your slick.

His eyes close for a split second as he groans in pleasure. Inhaling your sex scent like it’s a new perfume. Slurping down your juices like a forbidden drink that’s supposed to be out of reach.

“Gaz!—Kyle.! Oh!” Your voice is hoarse as it calls out his Call Sign then his real name in pathetic mewls of pleasure.

One of your hands finds his head of hair, gripping it and making him grunt out. Your other hand trying to muffle your moans, yet proving unsuccessful as Gaz purposely trails up and down your wet folds and nips at your clit teasingly. Your body twitches in delight, his movements are so overwhelming. You can feel the knot in your lower belly. The way his tongue moves and explores your lower wet cavern. The way he doesn’t stop as he can feel you clench down on his tongue, only making him continue on more. He can taste you. He can feel you as you get more wetter under only his tongue and soft peppered kisses on your wetness.

Dripping, he thinks. You’re absolutely dripping. Soppy and wet and you coat his face so nice. His eyes peek open to look up. Your eyes are shut in pleasure and your mouth open as it produces those beautiful noises. His mouth leaves your soppy and quivering cunt for a moment, peppering wet kisses up your thighs. He can smell your scented body wash—inhaling it so nicely. But he cut himself short as his wet lips found your clit, his tongue teasing so nicely.

My new phase. UwU

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood Masterlist

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

NAVIGATION PAGE Lore and world building masterlist CRCB Barracks Sims 4 Build Masterlist Support me on Patreon for more bonus content

Divider by: samspenandsword

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction Chapter 2 - Adjustments Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer * Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost Chapter 9 - Save Me Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins* Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together* Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie* Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes *

Haven't read it yet. I'm just keeping it here, so when my guests leave my darned house, I'll read it. *Evil smirk* 😤

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 

Fuck. 

You’re spooning Ghost. 

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 

“Don’t.” He says quietly. 

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 

Unaware of the danger. 

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 

The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 

There’s no way they don’t know about it. 

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 

“You alright, love?” 

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 

That won’t stop some alphas. 

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 

Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 

“My dad was a real asshole.” 

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 

“Simon.” 

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 

“My name. It’s Simon.” 

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@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

Imagine that your uniform is made up of several layers of different types of fabric and bulletproof shields. In addition to the extra fabric, you wear a mask and helmet that cover your entire face. Your costume makes it impossible to identify whether you are a woman or a man, and to top it off, you never speak. This leads people who aren't part of your squad to believe that you're just a short man who never speaks.

You work for the squad led by Colonel König. Recently, there were some situations that resulted in Kortac temporarily joining Task Force 141, two squads united to capture a terrorist.

You are not and have never been a sociable person. You don't talk to people you don't know and you always let someone else do the talking for you. As much as you are an adult woman, mature enough to make decisions on your own, you are shy. Very shy.

It's not unusual for other people to ask your teammates about you, always wondering why you don't speak up. They ask about the many layers of fabric that make up your outfit, whether you don't suffocate from the excess cloth and pockets.

And these people always refer to you in the masculine.

Always.

Soap is a bit of a curiosity when it comes to mysterious people who don't interact much with others in the room and who just stand in a quiet corner, far away from any living thing in the room. No wonder he made Ghost his best friend.

So believe me when I say that he's intrigued by you. The mysterious, masked guy in the dark corner of the room, who so far hasn't interacted with anyone since he arrived. You've caught his attention, but he won't talk to you because something inside him tells him not to come up to you out of the blue.

Something inside him tells him to take it easy this time, because that something inside him thinks that the outside of that guy should be molded slowly to reveal the inside. Does that make sense?

The first person Soap will ask about you is König, because them strangely hit it off, much to the unhappiness of Ghost, who didn't like König. Perhaps it's because he's taller and has stolen the role of being the tallest in the room from Ghost.

And also because he saw König talking to you about something, but you didn't use your voice and just nodded. Which led him to think that maybe you were mute.

Soap approached König with a smile, bringing up some other subject before starting to ask questions about you. He doesn't want to sound weird.

"Hm... You know, I keep asking myself..." Soap begins, waiting for a signal to continue.

"What is it?" König asks, crossing his arms and smiling beneath his mask.

"That guy in the corner... Why doesn't he join the others?"

"Oh." König straightens his posture and looks at you, standing in the corner of the room and staring at an interesting spot on the floor. "She's a bit shy, don't worry."

The gears turned slowly in Soap's head after this information.

"IT'S A WOMAN?!!??!!!!?"

It wasn't Soap's intention to draw the attention of everyone in the room, Including you, to him and König. But it just happened.

Hello:)) it's my first time posting something written by me and my English is terrible, but I tried my best with a translator 😞

this ate. CORDELIA HOW DO YOU EAT SO HARD WITH THESE?!

Don't really have any experience at all with anything omegaverse related but I've got big alpha!Gaz x omega!Reader thoughts...

cw: minor smut, knotting?

Everyone thinks he's a Beta because of the hormone suppressants. Kyle Garrick is always level headed. Cheeky with a silver tongue, of course, but no one has ever heard of him truly lashing out. Really, Kyle hates it. The hormones, going into rut, all of it. He wants to be able to walk by people and not be overwhelmed by their scent, so he plays it off and takes the medication in secret; Price being the only one privy to his habits. His work requires him to be at his best, and the suppressants get him there.

Things change when the main offices hires a cute new secretary.

Cute thing you are in your ironed button up blouse and neatly pressed pinstripe skirt. Proper and professional as you handle paperwork; unclaimed by an alpha. You shouldn't be different from anyone else Kyle's come into contact with, omega or otherwise, yet you are. There's something about your scent that burrows into his skin, makes it tingle and burn as if you've set it on fire. You smile so sweetly at him as you take the report from his hands, and he has to fight the urge to vault the desk you sit at.

Chalking it up to a late dose of his suppressants, he pushes it out of his mind the best he can but he only spirals. They don't seem to work as well whenever he's around you. He's never smelled anything as sweet as you, be it flower or food, and he feels his heart become overwhelmed with an untamed concupiscence. He finds every excuse to visit you. To talk to you. To hear your voice. He prays that you don't notice the way his nostrils flare whenever you're nearby.

Price notices the change in him immediately. His sergeant's mind isn't as clear as it usually is, and he's getting frustrated over trivial things he previously would never bat an eye at. Smells his incoming rut despite his best efforts at allaying it. Price sends him away with a wave of his hand. Tells Kyle he can only run away from his nature for so long, and that he better make good use of his hand for the next few days as he weens himself off his suppressants.

Kyle's never experienced a surge like this before. Nothing but pure frustration. Suffering through the throes of his rut with his skin slick with sweat as he writhes in bed dreaming of someone. Dreaming of you. Some soft omega sweet enough to help him during such a difficult time. He drowns in the illusion of you as he fucks his own hand until he swears he can smell you. That subtle silage... it seems to seep through the crack beneath his apartment door to haunt him like an apparition.

Doesn't realize it's actually you until you knock. Kyle knows better than to open the door, but he's not in his right mind. He convinces himself he can be polite. Tell you to stay far away from him until he's better and that he'll see you at work in a week or so. When he opens the door to enact his plan, he finds you with a small gift basket of medicine; as if you were truly convinced he was only sick.

After all, everyone thinks he's a beta.

Overwhelmed with the scent of him, your gift basket clatters to the ground as you cover your nose. He reeks. It's so strong you feel weak in your knees. Like he's sucked the very breath from your lungs.

There's no stopping what happens next after that. Nature always wins in the end. Besides, a sopping wet cunt is the only type of medicine that can cure Kyle's ailment anyway, and you're sweet enough to provide such a treatment. Face pressed into his pillow, soaking up the aroma of him, you're singing for him. Could never dream about complaining about the ecstasy you're filled with after every needy thrust of his cock. You were close to your heat anyway. Really, this is just as good for you as it is for him.

And as Kyle slips his knot inside of you, pinning your hips firmly against the mattress, he wonders how he ever went without this. Without you. Without some sweet thing to fatten up with his kids. He'll make sure you're waiting for him at home after every deployment. That the soft flesh in the crook of your neck is marked to the shape of his teeth soon enough.

For now, he'll worry about using you to fuck his rut out. He can worry about formalities when his head is clear.

BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAH THIS IS SO FUCKING TRUE IM DEAD @writersp3n

Ghost is the type of dad that would always be super blunt with his kids. So when his toddler asks him how her little sister came to be in mummy’s belly, instead of weaving a tale of magic wishes and baby-delivering storks, he says simply “We had sex”.

Gaz is the type of dad that would have his kid’s birthday entertainer cancel on him last minute. Good news is that the party store down the road is still open. Bad news is that the Spiderman costume he buys himself is two sizes too small.

Soap is the type of dad that would get kicked out of his kid’s football game because of his unruly behavior in the stands. Apparently, encouraging a group of six year olds to “Bloody kill!” the other team is frowned upon by most parents.

Price is the type of dad that would shave off his facial hair because he wanted to change up his look a little, only to end up scaring his kids (even making his ten month old cry) because they thought a stranger had broken into the house.

call of duty modern whorefare is crazy ALSO YOU ATE THIS @lxvvie

Gaz who's fuckin' nasty.

And it isn't the roguish nastiness or "I don't give a flying fuck" nastiness that Soap and Ghost embody, oh no, darling.

Kyle's nastiness is suave. It is smooth and hits softly but leaves you stunned nonetheless. And he gets you every. single. time.

He knows how to make you hot and bothered without even touching you. All it takes is a certain lilt to his voice, quietly teasing, enough to make you squirm and flustered. In public. In fucking public. Cheeky bastard.

Kyle is the one who croons, "Heya, gorgeous," before you feel his lips against your temple. Before you know it, his hands are up your shirt, toying with your nipples, making you squirm and push back and grind against his hard cock. "There we go, darling..."

Kyle doesn't call you so you can hear him touch himself and he doesn't send you pictures. He sends your voice messages, wishing you a wonderful day, telling you he loves you... and then proceeds to mention how beautiful you looked when he fucked you silly.

Gaz can't keep his hands to himself when he's around you. You're irresistible, beautiful. His fingers are everywhere. On your hips, on your shoulders, brushing against your ass, up your shirt, in your mouth, down your pants, in your underwear, inside you... did we cover everything?

Sometimes he wonders if he has an oral fixation. Luckily for him, you're there to help him figure it out. And so you do, wherever he can get you. You're naked from the waist down and Kyle's buried between your thighs, holding them so you don't get away from him. "Look at me, gorgeous... there we go," Kyle's soft and reassuring while dark eyes pierce you with their stare. "Cum in my mouth..." is what follows next and fuck yes, he absolutely has an oral fixation. Gaz cleans you up, kisses you so can taste yourself and him, and it's only later that you realize you're missing your underwear.

Kyle lets you have time to yourself in the shower but once you're out, you're his. He's the one who takes the towel and dries you off. So he says. Because even with the towel Gaz is massaging and thumbing the most sensitive parts of you, enough to leave goosebumps and have you panting in front of him, ready to jump his bones but you just got clean. Kyle, you just showered—"C'mere, baby..."

Can we also talk about how Gaz can never stop kissing you? If he can't do anything else, he'll make sure his tongue is in your mouth for sure. And when you're left dazed and breathless and just crazy as fuck for him, the insistence of his tongue is replaced by gentle pecks against your swollen lips and he's grinning like the victorious and lucky bloke that he is.

And last but not least, let's talk about how much Kyle enjoys it when you cockwarm him. He likes to kiss, nip, touch, and suck you into a frenzy, begging for his cock, clenching around him to motivate and milk him. "You ready, darling?" Kyle asks after he's teased you for god knows how fucking long. You've BEEN ready, Garrick. All it takes is a look and, "Here we go," before he's fucking into you and you're clinging to him like your life depended on it.

i’d be a homie hopper for the 141 😩

In bad and good times

*****************

I'm sorry for not updating earlier, I had my driving test today and the anxiety had kicked in haha.

Tw: This one is a just fluff <3

******************

Being married to a military guy wasn't always easy. Didn't matter if it was the frequent moodiness after coming home from a mission, or the dirty clothes that got soaked with blood and dirt. You knew the troubles this marriage would bring, but you accepted it. Accepted him.

Gaz always tried to keep it peaceful between the two of you and that usually worked. And even if there was a fight, he would apologise and make it up to you. Meaning romantic dates, flowers or even sex. Of course you liked the last on the most.

It was nice to feel his gentle hands roaming over you body, ignoring the deaths they caused.

Because after all it was your Kyle. Your sweet, adoring Kyle.

It always surprised you how his demeanor changed when he's with you. You only saw his "fight or die" persona once. It was when you had visited him on base, after a long mission. You had walked to his room and heard shouting. Turned out he was having an argument with one of the other recruits. You had never seen him with such anger in his eyes before. It scared you. The scene escalated and Price had to drag him away, before they could attack each other.

But that situation didn't matter to you. Not anymore. You knew he was stressed and tired, with good reason, so you decided to make his life at home better than before.

That included watching his favourite movies, going out for dinner or just cuddling on the couch.

Right now you were laying in bed, the watch on the nightstand saying that it was 3 am. You turned around when you felt Gaz move around suddenly. You saw him turning on his side of the bed, mumbling words.

This wasn't a rare scenario. The nightmares haunted him nearly every night.

You lifted your hand to slightly touch his cheek, checking if he would react to the contact. When he didn't, you pulled him closer to your body, laying his head on your chest. You felt him twitch sometimes, as you brushed through his hair with you hand.

Moments like these made you remind yourself that you would always stay by his side. Why? Because you loved him and forever will.

You smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. That made him grumble and he pressed his head more into your chest.

You felt yourself getting tired after some time. You gave Gaz one last kiss and whispered "G'night my love".

After that you both were asleep on your bed, curled up into each other.

*******************

Critique and tips for improvements are always welcome :)

Also if you have ideas for stories please dm me I need inspiration <3

Have a lovely day!

*********************

[COD MW2 HCS] 141 + Los Vaqueros + König with a Neutral Gender! Writer! Reader

A/N : How come we never see a Reader as a writer in whatever fandom - or am I blind - in headcanons ? I mean... So many people writing amazing fanfictions or headcanons on this platform or everywhere else and... No ? Really ? We’re talking about a military Reader here, by the way. 

TW : none (for once) except the ugly typos you may encounter. Only one very little mention of smutty litterature 

John “Soap” MacTavish 

So... Let’s start with our lovely Scottish sergeant 

It is apparently canon that he likes to draw on a small notebook he keeps with him dearly. 

So he knows. He is acquainted with the ‘writer’s zone’ we flee into when inspiration holds us within its graceful arms. When the images of action flood through out brain when a stroke of genius light up our features and how we appear lost in some kind of parallel universe only us are able to interact with (well... it’s how it looks like for me, feel free to comment - writer or not - how your imagination works) 

However, Soap is mostly aware about the tropes and what we can consider as the technical side of writing such as relashionship dynamics for your characters - if it implies the said relashionships - 

I think he is the kind to prefer roomates universes because of the domesticity he is able to find there and friendship warms his heart. Although, that’s just an impression. 

He is actually the biggest help out of the 141 because when he draws he also uses the codes of his type of creation for his cute doodles you suspect him to scribble on the yellowed paper of his little diary. 

He knows what it is to lack of insipiration, even though he tends to throw his thoughts on the paper and reproduces his surroundings. 

He appreciates the smallest details that compose his world. He notices them all. 

But I digress. 

You two share a world not so accessible for the rest of the team. When you talk about [Insert fiction character of trope here] in a very specific context, the others gaze at you confused. 

More than writing, it is a little sweet thing you two share and you would never lose that for anything in the world.

Simon “Ghost” Riley 

He... Understands... Not like Soap. He doesn’t have that much imagination. 

He gets it is your hobby. It is as valuable as any other activity. 

Simon thinks it’s cute in some way. You, lost in thought, next to him, about and into something he can’t quite grasp. And a sheet of paper or the blank screen of an app on your tablet or whatever device you judged comfortable.

At first, you asked for his help about some details, or his opinion, or his advice. Then, you understood he was too down-to-earth and wounded by his abusive past to allow himself to relax this way next to you. 

Yet, you used your hobby as a way to stay with him as a support. He had just to tug a bit at your sleeve and all your attention would be on him. 

It was the first step. 

You understood quickly that your writing might be able to help him unwind and finally get comfortable. 

You write him silly stories, made for him to laugh, or to smile at least. It wasn’t a big deal, just fables. You have no idea what he does with it. You just hope it enables him to dream even if just during the day like a fleeting thought clinging to him. A distant echo of something nice his heart and his memory agreed on keeping dearly underneath his leaden shell. 

You also may be the one reading your own stories to him. But the mistakes, the inconsistencies or the lack of meaning and every little flaws in your writing may appear much more visible once clearly uttered. 

By dint of effort, you manage to soften him a bit. He doesn’t want to ask you if he could read either what you are writing or if you have something for him. However, he eventually hopes within the depth of his heart that he can flee from reality for a few minutes. 

He is so grateful to you even though he is bitter on the fact he can’t bring you much constructive criticism. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 

Another one who understands one might have such a hobby but he may not relate. 

I don’t see Gaz as someone who reads a lot. It’s just not his thing. He’ll read for sport news or something related to one of his own hobbies. 

I guess he doesn’t have the patience to sit somewhere comfortable and allow his mind to wander this way thanks to your words. 

Except maybe when he desperately needs to unwind and his thoughts are too noisy so he needs to occupy his plagued mind with something totally different. 

However, he is curious about the creation process. 

He’ll ask about your ‘tools’ after you explain to him that your scenario and elements of the story doesn’t entirely pop out of thin air and you may have to rethink and to shape your ideas to make up a story both understandable and enjoyable. 

He laughs when he notices about your nonsensical Internet history. How can it be so weird ? And then, he remembers what kinds of research he does when the night isn’t kind to him and he doesn’t laugh anymore.

Sometimes, your brain amazes him. You sound so cool when you take the time to explain some of your ideas. 

Kyle is awesome at helping you for worldbuilding. He has a lot of imagination when he manages to leave his military universe on the side and peeks at yours. 

He is an excellent beta reader since he is actually very neutral about writing in general and he’ll try to give you the most help possible when you ask him. Too short ? Too long ? Not enough or too much emphasis on a detail ? He just aims at your betterment ! 

John Price 

You are a writer ? Well... As long as you do your duty you can be whatever you want. 

He is neutral with the idea of you being a writer. He is a soldier before anything. And a leader at that. He’ll support you because Captain Dad... I mean... Captain Price always supports his team but sometimes the said team gives a hard time to his comprehension and patience. 

You’re mostly quiet, with music for your ears, typing or penning something on a sheet of paper. Moreover, it seems like you have some sort of natural distance with Soap’s or Gaz’s - or both - usual chaos. 

Price has to say that it amazes him how you are distant of everything when you are in what Soap would call a writer’s fever. 

By the way, he happens to watch over you both when Soap draws and you write on the couch of the common room. If you both eventually show him what you created - if you don’t he will not force you - he’ll gaze at you like a proud momma duck despite his best behavior. 

He is mostly the one staring in disbelief as you use vocabulary, tropes, imaginary events for your own type of art since he can’t understand it even though you all speak the same language. 

Price notices very early you are a skilled writer, or at least you have some experience. The reports he gets from you are probably the best from the soldiers he got under his orders. He might have something to say about the spelling and the shape of your letters if you give him handwritten reports. Depends on you I guess. 

He will not ask to read what you write. You can call that the appropriate distance induced by hierarchy. You remain soldiers. You may as well act like it. 

Sometimes, you’d like his opinion. An outside point of view about your work is always good, no ? Well... John Price has a Ghost syndrome. He is annoyingly ass deep in his military life. Hence, he faces a very limited imagination except when it comes to interrogate an enemy. 

The worst about him is that he could be an amazing beta reader. Constructive criticism and probably giving you ways to improve yourself in what you already are so good at. 

Just give him time. He’ll get interested one way or another. First, you may try to be closer emotionally to him. Might be a good start to go past this military hierarchy and to know what his tastes are to get his heart beat only at the tone of your phrasing with your unique talent 

Rodolfo Parra 

He thinks it’s so cool to have a hobby as enjoyable as he thinks you have just by the way you act when you are writing. 

Rudy doesn’t have the time to delve that deeply into a hobby. Los Vaqueros constantly demand his attention. However, when he gets the time he - like Gaz - tries to ask about the process of writing. He even tries to write by himself. 

You explained about the tropes and dynamics and he seemed to get it immediately. Childhood friends to lovers is his favorite one by the way. 

It was just a little story he came up with. It was the first thing that stuck to his imagination, appearing out of an obscure place of his brain. It was uncertain, somewhat shaky but simple and, in a way, adorable.  

He almost took it personally when you said this small piece of text was just like him. 

However, before you sink even deeper in awkwardness, you dismissed this last interaction and tried to correct him the best you could. 

After that, he was looking forward the little time when you could write with him and he could learn. Another thing, it’s quiet around you, focused, relaxed. Alejandro knows where to find him when he is looking for his right hand. 

He could be an amazing beta reader if he wasn’t so kind. He forgives you everything. “Have you noticed inconsistencies or flaws ?” you’d ask. “Maybe a little something here but I’m sure it’s me” he’d reply. Unnerving, right ? The gentlest reader but you don’t need him to be so nice. You need him to be observant. 

He also comes up with very simple ideas when it comes to writing but his way of apprehending things has something one can’t quite describe. My closest synonym would be a vibe, something like raw talent that only needs to be explored thoroughly. It resembles to cutting a diamond, sharpen the edges to make it glistening and precious. 

His imagination is not too chaotic but his thinking and reasoning develops and fill in the gaps of his originality. 

Anyways, Rudy is amazing. As always. 

Alejandro Vargas 

There has to be one who does not take you very seriously. Well... It is Alejandro. The Mexican colonel is... something else, to say the least. He considered himself a man of action and not a man of words. So, to him, whatever you were doing with those scraps of paper during your free time was none of his business. 

He’ll try some kind of joke with you writing nasty things in the secret of that little head of yours. Two answers now. “No, colonel, I’m not into writing that kind of litterature” would be the first reponse with a hint of scorn hidden behind your deadpan aspect. 

The second answer though... “Yeah ! I write smut ! Now that we’re talking about that, do you mind if I use your features for my next...” and then you proceed to make a very descriptive, thoroughly explained speech about your imaginary Alejandro and what you planned him to do in this small story of yours. The point was to make the colonel embarassed. Although, it worked better on Rudy who went blushing like a tomato. 

If you choose the second option, it will end up in nasty jokes each time you meet each other. This silly game is absolutely unsufferable for everyone making the mistake to listen to you. 

If anything, your relashionship suffers from this disregard. You didn’t ask Alejandro’s appreciation, hardly tolerance even but it left a sort of bitter taste. Rudy is... Kinder. More understanding. 

However, what happens is that you tend to be consequently more distant from Alejandro. It may have been a silly joke about a pastime of yours but writing is so personal that it was as if he made a joke about your own self and this was intolerable. He had no business disrespecting you this way. 

Beyond that, you banished him from your writing process. His opinion, his hypothetical help, what he might like to see within a story - doesn’t matter how silly it may be - he was no part of it. 

If he changes his mind, you’d tend to retort him something alike “Let’s stay in our own field of expertise colonel. Let me dream about my stories. And you, dream about chasing El Sin Nombre. Good fences make good neighbors as one says”. 

Something that also might happen is that Rudy’s new habit of unwinding with you quietly in the common room and having long conversations with you about that hobby you were now both sharing made him feel weird. Alejandro was surely passionate and admitting he’s wrong - at least for this - was no part of his character but this was the proof he should’ve acted differently. The realisation took its time but he eventually accepts the fact he made an asshole of himself. 

He’ll apologise when he catches you alone, writing. Now the question may be about how much time do you want to play with him for having been such an arse. 

Eventually, Alejandro learns his lesson and he even asks you to read what you write. When he’s done, he is so silent, gawking. You laugh at him. 

König 

Our gigantic, adorable Austrian operator is a book worm. It’s horrendous. The heavy bullying he has been a victim got him to be safe between the shelves of library. The scent of old paper and the calm of the library got him out of his skin, journeying between worlds out of his appalling daily life. He was typically the dreamy, lonely kid who had characters inside his head as sole company. 

So yeah. Books mean relief, respite, getaway for him as well as a way to heal himself from the pain he received from his classmates or whoever hurt him in his younger days. 

He doesn’t have much time for reading anymore and these books are a little too bulky for the small package he was allowed to have. So having you near him is like a blessing. He can talk out his thoughts.  

Beyond writing, it is the vibe around you that convinces him to sit next to you in the common room. He tried to make himself small, to not take too much of the couch but you couldn’t deny his thigh touching yours. You raised your head and smiled at him. König did not utter a single word, already flustered to fail at conversing. But, as time goes on - and after numerous times he just sat next to you enabling himself to move a muscle - you made most of the conversation. He felt almost immediately at ease. 

You two daydream together now, talking about little things always related to writing or reading. It is also a way to relax after close calls and the danger of being killed. 

He is the KING at worldbuilding. König has always several ideas coursing through his brain. His mind is sometimes chaotic, full of details. He gave you the impression once that telling the history of one of this world would create a great saga on it own. Moreover, König is so passionate about these little bouts of thoughts put together. 

He is also very aware about tropes and dynamics. His favorite of the latter is the small protector x the big shy character because he can relate. And he also has a soft post for a good ol’ mutual pining or a hypothetical love at first sight - as unlikely as it seems in real life - 

He doesn’t try to write with you though. He knows he is not too good at this, which is weird considering the tremendous amount of time he can spend while reading. Although, König knows he may have a chance if he writes in German. It depends on you being able to understand him or not.

König is also a dissatisfactory beta reader, different from Rudy though. He doesn’t dare utter what he judges as flaws because he thinks he’d lose you. He is so happy to be the first reading whatever you are working on because it makes him feel so special. 

He always supports you and tries to relax you when pangs of frustration creeps inside your mind because your writing doesn’t go the way you plan it to be. 

Just like with Soap, what you two have is not understandable by the people around you. What’s more is that König’s anxious nature tends to keep you both distant from the people outside of your little bubble. 

Just a little turned around.

Honestly, it wasn’t as if Y/N was defenceless.

It just so happened that on this one damn day, some asshole had managed to pickpocket her pouch. Not her wallet (that was back at the hotel), not her phone, just her money pouch, which contained the currency of the foreign country she was in. Being prepared and somewhat responsible, Y/N had only put in a day's worth of money into that pouch. In fact, it amazed her how he hadn't gone for her passport or even her phone. No, just the thing that would be most inconvenient for her.

Staring a hole into the ground, she pressed her fingertips to her forehead in an attempt to calm herself down and gather her thoughts. She had chased this slippery bastard all the way to this street where he turned the corner and into a dead end. Then he-, wait.

Y/N straightened up and her eyes darted around frantically. Where was she?

Nothing was familiar. A cafe on the cobbled stone street, a flower shop and a bakery. None of which she had seen before.

Wonderful, now, as well as having no money in a foreign country, she was bloody lost.

“Fuck me dead and sideways till Monday morning.” She huffed, while once again rubbing her forehead with her hand. Honestly, at this point, nothing could particularly get worse.

“That coul’ be arranged!” An accented voice called out from behind her. Scottish perhaps?

“Has a mouth on her.” Another replied in amusement while another voice just grunted in acknowledgement.

Y/N turned around to spit back a witty retort that quickly died on her lips.

“Uh..” She stuttered out intelligently.

Three men, each a prepossessing sight. One was wearing a cap, a blue denim jacket and some black jeans. He was brown eyed and dark skinned, nothing short of a model. His friend was leaning on him, crossed arms, a short mohawk, blue eyes, scruffy looking beard and a cheeky looking smirk. He donned a biker jacket with the small Scottish flag where his breast pocket would be and seemed to be wearing dog tags over his grey t-shirt. The last of them was a hulking man dressed fully in black, his face was obscured with a face mask akin to those of celebrities, however his presence was less of a star and more intimidating. Almost menacing. Maybe he was their bodyguard?

Y/N shook her head and replied,

“Yeah no thanks mate, I’ve got a bit on my plate at the moment, maybe in another life?” She nodded at the three before turning back around and walking towards the coffee shop.

“Oi, Bonnie, we can help ya if ya need. Besides, yer lookin' a bit peely wally.” The man with the mohawk called out.

“What the bloody hell are you on about mate.” Y/N asked, bewildered clearly not understanding the Scottish man's accent.

“ He thinks you look pale.” The large figure behind him rumbled helpfully.

Y/N blinked,

“Is he saying I look sickly?” She turned around and glowered at the man.

“No love, what we mean to say is, you look like you need some help?” The man with the baseball cap stepped forward carefully, as if not to spook her.

“Well, unless you’ve got a tracker dog, a body bag and a large metal pipe, I don't think you’re going to be much help to me.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

“Tha’ can be arranged bonnie.” The mischievous looking man grinned, stepping up while the man behind him followed while giving a non committal grunt.

“I’m Kyle, the annoying one is Johnny and that’s-”

“Simon.” The masked man grumbled while the other two threw a quick look at the third man.

She wrinkled her nose.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you.” She nodded at the men before sighing, “Alright, I’m here for a holiday, trying to feel out if I wanna move out here for work. I was just takin’ a look around when some asshat came up and fell on me and grabbed my money pouch.” She spoke quickly, somewhat embarrassed that she was admitting to three strangers that she had been duped so easily.

“Ah lovie, unless you remember what he looks like or what he was wearin’ s’ gonna be hard for you to get it back. Do you remember how much you had in there?”

She shrugged, “It was meant to get me lunch and dinner before I checked out of my current hotel to find another one. The rest of the cash is in my hotel room.” She hung her head and sighed.

“Honestly I just need to find my way back and then I can sleep over things. I can skip a meal or two.”

“Gonny no dae that!” Johnny exclaimed, “Yer look like yer already skippin’ meals lass. We’ll take you to lunch and dinner! We got nothin’ ta do anyways!”

The one dressed in all black, Simon was it? Grunted out an agreement.

“You ain't gonna find much around here. You’re not far away from the military base.”

“Whaddya you say love? Let us show you around?” Kyle hummed, cocking his head akin to a begging puppy.

Y/N quirked her lips in thought. Would it be a smart move to let these strangers escort her around? Was she hungry enough to make a questionable decision?

“Well…”

“We’re not strange men, we promise miss.” The taller Brit offered.

“That's exactly what a strange man would say LT.”Johnny quipped, earning a light bonk on the head from the taller man.

Y/N shoulders relaxed when they saw the playful display of banter between the men. Surely this meant they were safe. Right?

The ending was a rollercoaster 🥰🧐💀😭😲😲🤭

ghost has no idea what to make of you. you show up out of nowhere, barely a day after price announces that they have an extra addition on their team for the next mission, and then you show up.

you're nothing like them - you probably haven't seen a man get shot, never felt your bones break and have to set them yourself in a fight. he has this sick fantasy of breaking you, wiping that stupid smile off your face and watching you crumple as he breaks your spine with one hand.

soap loves having you on base, you're good with a gun and you'll joke with him about almost anything - sure, you never come out to the pub with them, but whenever they come back to base you've cooked something and that's better than any pint of beer johnny's ever had.

he's worried, he thinks you wont make it out there - beside them. you're small, and not in the sense that you're short, in the sense that there's barely anything to you, nothing to grab if you trip in the middle of active fire.

gaz is just finally glad to have someone else to talk to, to complain about soap and ghost to, rant about how price pissed him off. you're always willing to talk, which is probably a good thing.

he always turns down his radio whenever you're on a mission together, he doesn't want to hear you die, or hear your voice trail off as you get caught. he has to bite his knuckle whenever you speak out of fear.

price is sick of it, sick of watching the boys play with you like a doll and then sit you delicately back on the shelf, so he takes matters into his own hands and shoots you between the eyes.

you sit up four minutes later.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

i just rlly like the idea of immortal!reader but the guys have no idea and suspect nothing until they get shot in the head and then just,,, get back up !

Ghosts in the family

Synopsis - aka all the times The Riley siblings have talked about eachother, and all the times Soap should’ve connected the dots but didn’t see the constellation.

cw/tags - MDNI 18+ making out, grinding, no piv or smut guys sorry, swearing, mentions of female anatomy, military inaccuracies, fanon versions of cod characters, threats, mild violence, mentions of guns, innuendos, etc. you’re dealing with grown men in the military that is your warning

Pairing - Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Afab!Riley!Reader, John Price x Riley!Reader (Platonic)

Author's note - Soap is about 26, Reader is 24, Tommy is the name of Simon’s canon younger brother who later scares him with masks and anyways, just beware of that background. Pt.2 of this au, just this just shits and giggles background for later bc I dont know how to flesh out that cliffhanger I left in my Drabble, see you at the bottom! - Moon

Requests are open!

© moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

1. Simon knew that Johnny’s intention wasn’t to piss him off, but yet he still managed to feel a migraine pool behind his eyes. All day, every mission just asking question after question. Simon wondered if this is what it was like to have a stable home. All he had was you from day one his baby sister. His lips jerk upward before he cuts off the muscle reflex of what we know as a smile. He’d rather keel over and die than let Johnny see his eyes krinkle.

“I have a sister.” He grumbles. Everyone in the truck goes silent. Johnny’s jokes stop, Gaz smirks to himself, even Price manages to watch through the rearview mirror.

“Really? And you waited so long to tell me. Oh my god what’s the like. Oh is she pretty- wait don’t answer that, that’s weird if you agree…” Simon sighs to himself as he tunes out Johnny again. Oh he wishes holiday would come faster.

2. Holiday was tough. Even worse was being stuck alone over holiday break because your only family was stuck in an operation. Especially since you just got the news after putting up Christmas decoration.

“Really Simon? I got football on the telly, your presents are all wrapped” you whined. Simon grinned under his balaclava, oh how he wished he could be there to receive your annual gag gift.

“I know I know I know, assignment came late and everyone else has families to go home to so I just suggested myself-“ he tried to calm you down knowing this would only add gasoline.

“Dammit Si, I’m your family too! Im gonna give you a new buzz cut when you get home at the rate you’re going with all these sudden plans.” Your voice cracked at his name, you know he didn’t mean to break your heart. But Simon couldn’t bare to see Johnny, Price, or Gaz not go home to their big happy families.

“Yeah I know. Im yer brother. No getting out of that one.” He said. “Why don’t you stay with Price again this year. You know he loves you around”

“Because he is the only friend of yours that I’ve met-“

“Yeah you’ll meet the guys someday. promise.”

“Maybe for this holiday present?”

“Maybe.“

“yeah yeah yeah. I love you Si”

“Love you too, and I hope that second date of yours goes well this Friday” oh if only he knew how well that date went with your mysterious Scottish man.

3. “I thought you said you don’t kiss on the second date” Johnny grinned into your lips. Your hands all in his hair.

“Only if they don’t show promise” you remarked back. You could feel his bulge grinding through your pants in the back of this telephone booth. A soft groan leaving his lips as Johnny responded

“Oh so I show promise.” You could practically hear the grin as his lips trailed down your jaw and neck, the slight friction of his scruff following as he moved aside your dogtags.

“Yeah promise that if you don’t hush up, you won’t be getting anything” you quipped back as equally as smug

“Thought you were gonna call that brother of yers” he slurred back as he smelled your perfume. The man practically drooling as your nails trailed down his neck scratching. If he had a tail it’d be whipping the air. A whimper passing through the air as his bulge caught the right part of your fabric rubbing your clit in a delightful direction

“he can wait, I have something else to call for now” you said as you opened the door of the telephone booth and whistled (or yelled if you can’t) as loud as you could do to call a taxi. Johnny had a light in his eye that he never thought would spark until he met you.

Soon you would find out later that Simon actually COULD wait and he did, 12 whole hours he stayed up staring at your apartment door to be let in - fresh on holiday too. Maybe being motormouth’d by Johnny into the window of a hummer didn’t sound so bad now

4. Simon kept a photo of you and him in his pocket everywhere that you went. I mean everywhere. No matter the place. And a lighter too incase he was captured by enemies so as to not compromise his location. But it was a photo from a holiday in France. You were both pillow fighting in the bed. Messy hair, toothless grins, back when Mummy was alive and Daddy hadn’t shown his true colors. Tommy took that picture,. Simon holds it to remind him what he’s fighting for.

“Oh is that yer little sister, she’s missin a few teeth there” Johnny grins looking over the sniper’s shoulder.

“You’re about to miss some bones if you ask about my sister again” Simon growls. fuck. Johnny is the last person he needs around his sister. It’s not like Johnny was a womanizer - he was the opposite. Johnny was perfection. He was from a happy home, a stable home, a place where you wouldn’t have to remember what happened at that old house. It scared Simon to death imagining you forgetting about him. Then he’d really be alone.

“She must’ve gotten the good genes.” Gaz pipes into the coms, what an instigator.

“Wonder what she looks like in jeans” Soap hummed as he cleaned out his gun.

Ghost hummed to himself as he secretly folded up the photo and put it right back in the pocket over his heart. Maybe you could wait another year before meeting them.

Authors note - I made a part 2, this is unedited. Im so tired. I will flesh more of this out before I take another break I promise!! Xoxo - Moon

141 + konig reactions to seeing reader in thigh highs?

141 n koni babys reaction to seeing u wearing thigh highs

nsfw under cut you’ve been warned

john price is a simple man. even old fashioned, if you will. so he does what any normal man would do. sat you on the bed and began kissing down your thigh all the way to your ankle. savoring how beautiful your skin looked in the elegant fabric. he eventually began leaving sloppier kisses against your inner thighs. by the time he got to your dripping heat, the lacy garments were off.

simon riley basked in the sight for about a minute before tearing them off. something about how gorgeous your thighs looked drove him insane. your legs are fully spread apart, taking his full length as if your life depended on it. while tears are forming at your eyes due to his sheer size, he scolds you. he scolds you for wearing such a slutty thing, basically asking to get ravaged.

johnny mactavish tried his best to ignore the fact you had been walking around your shared kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of white thigh highs. the way the delicate material wrapped around your thighs made his cock twitch needily. you stood over the countertop making a simple lunch for your boyfriend, johnny let his arms snake around your waist and let his hands wander. he began softly humping you through his sweatpants, whining for you to come to the bedroom.

kyle garrick tried his hardest to pretend he didn’t notice that sexy lingerie sitting atop of your thighs. but he did. he noticed it all. the way you shuffled between him and the coffee table when the two of you were watching a movie, ass moving right across his face. the way you had sat on his lap while texting your friends back, ignoring the way his throbbing dick was proding against you. he eventually gave in. bending you over the sofa and softly lecturing you about how it’s naughty to tease him all day while wearing tight lingerie around the house.

poor könig couldn’t contain himself for that long. the way your thighs looked so perfect killed him. he pulled you onto his lap facing him. whining about how you made him so needy by wearing something so cute. he used giant hands to rock your hips back and forth on his hard length, leaning down to your ear whispering about how he’s fuck you stupid while watching the lacy fabric hug your plump thighs

141 + konig, Alejandro, and Rudy with an S/O that has thick thighs

141 + koni, alejandro, n rudy with a s/o that’s got thickkk thighs

a/n: im so sorry for the delay in posts but i trust have sm to post yall don’t even worry

mainly cutesy stuff with some suggestive moments

john price loves how your thighs hug any pants you wear. he loves to keep a spare hand on them whenever he’s next to you, whether that is in a meeting or just relaxing on the couch. he believes that your thighs make your body just that much more perfect.

simon riley is obsessed with the shape of your thighs. he believes that they’re plush pillows that were made specifically for him to lay on. not even in a sexual way, he loves kissing up and down your thighs. the soft skin makes it a luxury experience for him.

johnny mactavish thinks your thighs are the best part of your body. of course he adores your face, but the way your thighs get bigger when you sit down, almost welcoming him to use them as pillows. he loves the way they grip around him when you’re on top.

kyle garrick believes being between your thighs is heaven on earth. in a sexual and non sexual manner. he loves sitting between your thighs and letting you stroke through his hair. he listens to you talk about your day but tends to get distracted by thinking about what your reaction would be if he flipped his head over.

könig LUUVSSSS how your thighs look in shorts. good lord omg. like you’ll just be walking around base and it takes everything in that tank of a man to not put you on the countertops and. i mean what omg lol. but he’ll also love up on you if you ever get self conscious about stretch marks, reassuring you it just adds to your perfections.

alejandro vargas is a slut for your thighs, sorry. the way they’re like the foundation of your body’s shape drives him insane. especially if you’re going out to an event and decide to wear a risqué dress, exposing the plush skin to everybody there. when you get home he’ll make sure to teach you a lesson.

rudy parra loves massaging your thighs. you’re not sure how it started. whenever he gets home from a particularly rough mission or if he just needs intimate time with you, he’ll make you lay down and allow him to massage them. it’s stress relieving for both you and him. rudy can’t help himself, not his fault your build is perfect.

Hey love, could you write ab what the 141+ Alejandro, könig, and graves would be like with a plus size S/O

141 + könig alejandro rudy n graves with a plus size s/o

a little bit of suggestive content, nothing tooo bad

john price adores you. all of you. like seeing you throw yourself into his arms after a long day, placing his hands on your plush curves brings him immediate peace. he also lovesss it when you wear skimpy little outfits that show you off, he feels like he’s winning in life.

simon riley loves your face the most out of every one of your body parts. he thinks you’re simply breathtaking. from the way you cheeks are rounded to the way your smile never seems to fade. you’ll definitely be the death of him.

johnny mactavish is just in love with how you hold yourself together. it’s truly not even about your looks, just your energy. the way you’ve never given a second thought about ignorant comments, to the way you’ll always get what you want.

kyle garrick loves your body so much. like coming home after a long day and you’re ready to just snuggle until you both fall asleep. of course, he loves being a big spoon. but when you big spoon omg that does something to him. he just feels so content with your warmth surrounding him and he’s so happy your his.

könig loves to just engulf you into his arms. you’ll complain and whine all you want for him to put you down but he doesn’t care. especiallyyyyyy if you argue with him that he can’t pick you up, because ouuu baby, he don’t like that. have fun being in his arms (and under him) for the whole night.

alejandro vargas loves how defined your curves are. it drives him crazy when you wear clothes that enhance them. like this man actually dies. he’ll keep hand on your waist as much as he can, occasionally wandering down further when he gets a litttlllleeee needy for waiting so long.

rudy parra is basically just in love with you. like everything about you. your mind, your shape, your voice, your thoughts. he’s just infatuated with you. he hates it when you talk bad about yourself in any way, because he sees you as his perfect angel.

philip graves is def your number one supporter. like you bought a new mini skirt? bet your ass looks so good in it. decided to try out a new hairstyle? it really makes your gorgeous face stand out. anything you do just know he’s got a sign that says “THAT'S MY GIRL”