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#cook!reader x 141
deunmiu-dessie · 22 days
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sorry, was thinking about doing domestic things with fiancé!ghost, like making cookies and him messing up something in the process 💀--- cause even though ghost is good at most things, this man does not have a cooking bone in his body, maybe he can make a few simple meals but for the most part ( something you taught him btw ), he'll leave the meals and meal prep to you ( besides, he enjoys ur cooking ). so when you pull him to the kitchen and ask him to make cookies with you, he's reluctant but of course he agrees, ( he'd burn the world if you asked ) though, making cookies is a lot harder than he expected😭
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"si, the butter--- it's burning."
your fiancé, always standing so tall and imposing, is slightly hunched over the stove wearing your pink apron that you had 'forced' ( wouldn't call it that since he literally bent down so you could put it on him but... ) over his head. despite him being so focused on the task at hand, he'd ended up burning the butter rather than browning it.
"ah fuckin' hell."
he stirs it for one moment more before looking down at you, "y'sure we can't use it?" he mellows at your beaming smile, deflating as you shake your head.
"simon, baby, it's basically tar."
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ (rehehehehe how simon looks most days when youre teaching him to bake.)
connected with this post!
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killerkillerkillher · 1 month
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Bound to Fall in Love
Angel/Demon! 141 x reader
Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish
Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n
A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.
minors dni!
"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."
"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."
You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.
For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.
"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.
"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"
"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.
"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.
"Read the book."
He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.
"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.
"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."
Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.
"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.
"Are you serious?"
"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.
"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.
The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.
It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.
If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.
Something in your gut tells you it's not.
In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.
"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.
"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.
Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.
"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.
"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."
There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.
"They're not dead." They say at the same time.
Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.
"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."
The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.
Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.
"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."
"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.
"Or the neck." The other devil offers.
"Or that vein in they're thigh."
"The sephenous, Johnny."
"Yeah, that."
"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!
"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.
"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."
Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.
"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."
"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"
"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."
You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.
"Rah 'ere?"
"Mhm."
You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.
"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.
"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.
Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.
"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"
Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.
"Do what we do best. Bargain."
"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."
There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.
"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"
"I didn't want-"
"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.
"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.
"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."
''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."
"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.
"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.
"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.
Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.
"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."
"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.
"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.
"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.
"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"
"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."
"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."
"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."
Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?
"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."
You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.
"Shit."
That's not good.
Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?
"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."
"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.
"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.
Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.
"Just you and us now, stud."
You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.
"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.
"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."
"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.
"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."
"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"
"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.
And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.
So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?
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sentientcave · 8 days
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Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.
Chapter Two - An Understanding
< Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.
~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above
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The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”
“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”
“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.
The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.
“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”
Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”
“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”
The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”
Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”
“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."
"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."
"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."
Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."
Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.
"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"
A loaded question. "Well. Not really."
"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."
"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."
John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."
"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.
He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."
"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"
He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."
"I'll find a new job. I always do."
"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."
You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."
John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"
A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"
"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”
If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.
“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”
“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.
The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”
“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”
“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.
“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.
Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."
“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.
“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”
“Isn’t she just?”
“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.
“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.
You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.
"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."
You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"
"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"
You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.
“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”
“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”
The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.
The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.
“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”
John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.
“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”
“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”
“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”
“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”
“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.
“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.
“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.
Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”
They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”
"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."
At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.
Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.
John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.
Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.
There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.
“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.
“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.
“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”
He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”
"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."
"And the student loans?"
"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"
"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.
You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"
"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"
You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.
"Can I think about it?" you ask.
"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"
You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.
Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.
“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.
“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”
“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”
“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”
“I’m not his people.”
John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”
A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.
"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”
There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.
You’re worried that he might be right.
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My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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ghouljams · 17 days
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You say that Ghost would be completely different to the man going off to war, but I disagree, he's exactly the same, just turning that laser focus of his from completing missions to making sure his girl and his family are getting treated perfectly. He's planning absolutely EVERYTHING, he has it all worked out from what colour to paint the nursery to the exact model of crib your baby will be sleeping in when you bring them home for the first time.
Man is prepared for any eventuality that may arise before, during, and after your pregnancy. He's got your cycle tracked on the calendar with all the optimum times for... coupling, circled with bright red marker.
(I've been so busy recently, I've only been able to catch a couple of your posts randomly throughout the last couple of days 😭😭)
Ghost only has one mode and that is intense focus. There's a big difference between Daddy Ghost and Lieutenant Ghost though. He promises himself he'll never yell at his kids, that he'll never raise a hand to them like his father did, and it makes him an incredibly gentle parent. Also a nightmare to parent alongside. He's so worried about doing something that could hurt the kid that it's hard to make him enforce rules. Sure if it's something that could end up with his baby girl hurt(staying out past curfew, winding up in the hospital after a rough footie game) he can bring the hammer down, but if it's no dessert before dinner? No snacks before bed? TV off for homework? He's hesitant to be the "bad guy" for his girls.
That said the man knows exactly what he's getting for his babies you're right about that. He has a mental registry that he's been filling out for years. Everything with different safety grades and price points, really channeling his focus into setting up for the baby he's desperate to do right by.
There's something that itches at him for the first few months playing house, reality setting in when he sees you pregnant, some desire to run to abandon ship. His father's voice nags at him that he'll never be worth the skin on his back, that he'll never be able to escape his upbringing. But as soon as that little bundle of joy is settled in Simon's arms it's like his whole world changes. They're just so tiny... He'll protect them, make sure nothing bad ever happens, be there for every scraped knee and every sniffle.
Ghost is completely unprepared for the baby to bunch up their little face and start wailing.
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wxnheart · 9 months
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Simon has his moments whether you know it or not.
His father's words ring like echoes he can't escape from and no matter how hard he tries, he can't help but second-guess himself when it comes to you.
Being a soldier is a hell of a lot easier than being in a relationship. There are absolutes—sureties—and direction, and the twitch of the trigger finger or a shadow cast over the enemy's eyes was all the decision necessary between life and death.
But off the field with you, there's nuance, shades of grey darker and deeper than anything that's been thrown at him before, and he thinks of his parents. He thinks of his dad, a black hole of misery and hate, never offering a kind word and lashing out at the thought that his sons would even think to be better than him. Simon thinks of his mother and how he watched the light in her eyes dim over the years, watched as the cherished floral perfume and cheeky grin became a fleeting memory because the miserable fuck would rather have a soulless husk for a wife than the proud woman who could and would challenge him, and he fears becoming like his father. And every day he fights that battle and wonders if he'll ever win the war.
He thinks you could do better. Fuck, he knows you can. He isn't the most attractive nor is he the most personable. Bloody hell, he still freezes up whenever you surprise him with a hug or kiss—Simon's thoughts linger on these more than they abso-fucking-lutely should.
But then he sees your smile and the brightness in your eyes so unlike his mother's. He sees you being yourself unashamed, and the way you shower him with affection makes him feel like the most special motherfucker on the planet. He remembers when you first called him by his name and for once he didn't feel the dread or hear the lingering threat behind it.
So yeah, Simon fears becoming like his father. He fears it and fights that battle every fucking day, but you... because of you...
Shit, you're all the more reason for him to win that goddamn war.
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nenayaquisieras · 2 months
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The guys teasing medium!reader when they see scratch marks on her back thinking she was getting it on with someone last night but in reality she was fighting demons.
Literally.
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ohbo-ohno · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use
Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)
summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)
cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex
note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"
Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 
You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.
Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 
Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 
And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 
Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.
It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.
———————————————————————
You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 
Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.
There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.
“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.
“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.
One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”
You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.
Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.
“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”
You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”
He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”
He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.
He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.
“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”
“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”
“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”
“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”
You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”
“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”
He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”
You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.
Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”
You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 
He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.
“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”
The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.
It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”
You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”
He smirks, “Nope.”
John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”
“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 
“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.
“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”
Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”
Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”
You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”
He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.
———————————————————————
You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.
Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.
You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”
“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 
That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”
Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.
You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 
Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.
“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”
“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.
“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.
“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”
He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.
“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”
You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”
You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.
“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”
You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”
It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.
“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”
“She tight, Johnny?”
You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.
There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.
Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.
“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”
You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 
“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”
“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”
Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”
You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 
The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 
You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 
The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.
“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.
“Me too, bonnie.”
He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.
Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.
“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.
It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”
You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 
“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”
Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.
Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”
You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”
Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.
He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.
You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.
You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.
———————————————————————
You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”
He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 
“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”
You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”
“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”
It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.
Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.
It doesn’t make the wait any easier.
You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.
“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”
The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.
“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.
On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.
Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 
The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.
He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”
And, well, who are you to disobey?
You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.
“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”
“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”
“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”
“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”
“Yes, yes…”
“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”
“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”
“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”
He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.
When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.
“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.
“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”
“Alright. Need any help tonight?”
“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”
You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”
A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 
———————————————————————
You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.
“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”
You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.
You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.
You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.
Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 
You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.
“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”
You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.
He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.
Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 
So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.
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1-ker0sene-1 · 3 months
Text
Poly 141 x Reader
Home is where you are
"What ye think she made this time?"
Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.
"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."
Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.
"She should be sleeping.."
Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.
"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."
His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.
Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.
"Steaks."
He mutters.
"Hm?"
Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.
"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."
They all salivate at the damn thought.
"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"
Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.
It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.
"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."
Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.
The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.
Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.
".. Hey lass.."
He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.
You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.
"Hey soldier-"
You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.
"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."
He whispers. You return with one of your own.
"I know baby.. I missed you too.."
You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.
"This bloke botherin' you love?"
You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.
"There you are Kyle.."
You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.
"Always here."
He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.
"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"
You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.
Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.
"Oh Si.."
He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.
"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."
You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.
Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.
"I know doll.. I know."
He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.
"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."
You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.
"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"
You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.
"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."
Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.
He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.
You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.
"Everyone's alright?"
You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.
"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."
You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.
"And you?"
"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."
John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.
"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."
You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.
"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."
You mumble against him.
You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.
"We need you darlin'. "
"Our boys and I need you bad.."
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ornateorchid · 3 months
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poly!141 x reader but when they come home from a mission, you're unable to take off work the following day :(
a/n: yes, this is a repost. i accidentally deleted it instead of making it private so i could fix something.
cw: domestic fluff, gn!reader, gaz and soap are clingy but in a cute way
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they often get home at night, so it's not unusual for you to take off the following day. but this time was different.
whether it be a work party or an upcoming project, you were unable to take the day off. you knew your boys would be upset, but you were sure they would understand. they were excited to spend time with their lover after they came home from the grueling mission, so they were understandably dissapointed when they found out. but you weren't going to risk losing your job or an upcoming promotion, and they knew that.
so that is how you found yourself in the bathroom at 7 in the morning, brushing your teeth while your four companions are sleeping in the alaskan king-sized bed. they have no problem staying asleep despite the sound of running water as you get ready for the day. you were lucky that your alarm didn't wake any of them, or so you thought. moments after you finish rinsing your mouth out, kyle shuffles his way into the bathroom and stands in front of the toilet, where he shucks his pants down to relieve himself.
"kyle," you groan, "there's another bathroom, y'know?"
" 'm aware," he grumbles. "this one was just closer. and you're in here," he says as he finishes up his business and makes his way over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes his arms around your side to wash his hands. he takes his time scrubbing his palms together, making sure the soap is all over his hands and between his fingers, before turning the water off. he reaches over to grab the hand towel, but he doesn't leave after he hangs it back up. instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses soft and light kisses against your neck.
"don't want you to go," he mutters. "stay in bed and cuddle."
"kyle, i have to," you tell him as you turn around in his arms and lean against the countertop. he leans forward, pressing his body against yours, and rests his head in the crook of your neck. "now go back to bed, or you're going to be grouchy," you insist.
he inhales your scent and gives you one last squeeze before reluctantly following your orders and making his way back towards the bedroom. you finish up in the bathroom before heading to the bedroom to change out of your pajamas. you notice that john and simon are no longer in bed, and kyle and johnny are cuddled up against each other. you grab your phone to take a quick picture of your boys before changing. once you're dressed and ready to go, you place a kiss against each of their cheeks.
the scent of eggs, coffee, and tea fills your nose as you exit the bedroom. you hear quiet chatter coming from the kitchen, which is where you are headed. you walk in to find john at the stove with simon behind him, his arms wrapped around the other man's waist, much like kyle's when you were in the bathroom. you smile at the two before moving towards the island, where there's a plate of bacon, eggs, and a mug filled with tea. simon is the first one to notice your presence.
"good morning, love," he greets. john turns around in his arms and flashes you a tired smile.
"morning," he mumbles.
"morning guys, what are you both doing up?" you ask as you take a sip from the mug sitting on the island.
"simon woke up when kyle left the bed and asked if i wanted some breakfast," john answers. "i was already awake so there was no point in saying no. plus, you and the boys deserve some breakfast as well."
"well, thank you," you say. the three of you continue to make small talk until john and simon finish cooking. johnny and kyle make their way into the kitchen not long after.
"thought i told you to go back to bed," you tell kyle, to which he rolls his eyes.
"johnny was the one who wanted to get up, and that bed is lonely when there's nobody else in it," he replies. you hum and nod before being crushed by johnny in a bear hug.
"missed you this morning, didn't even get a proper kiss!" he whines. you giggle and give him a quick peck on the lips before rubbing his back.
"didn't want to wake you," you justify, and he tsks.
"that's the whole point of a good morning kiss," he states. the five of you chat while finishing your breakfast and washing dishes, and the next thing you know, it's time for you to head out.
"have a good day at work, love," simon says as he places a kiss against your forehead. you give him a sweet smile and nod.
"yeah, we'll miss you," johnny says with a pout.
"it's only 8 hours, don't worry," you assure him, and he huffs.
"you're gonna have to make it up to us later," he replies, and you chuckle.
"and you're going to have to make it up to me for being gone for almost a month," you say before giving him a peck on the lips. you make your way around the room and kiss everyone before grabbing your bag and keys and heading out. they all watch out the window like sad puppies as you get in your car and wave goodbye.
they totally didn't mope around all day until you got home.
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banner creds: @cafekitsune
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iciclesses · 5 months
Text
141 x super fem reader <33
Price loooves that you love all those tooth rottingly sweet pet names. Pet, puppy, honey, angel, baby, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl, princess, darling, honeybee, starlight, sunshine; you name it, Price has called you it. A thrill running down his spine at how he can call you a simple name and make you squirm and blush and smile. The prettiest, sweetest smile in the world and Price can never resist kissing it off of you.
Soap who loves to take care of your hair for you. Dyeing it, brushing it, straightening it, braiding it, washing it, conditioning it. All of it. He's got strong hands that love to carefully tangle themselves in your hair to massage oils directly into your scalp. Drags a brush through your hair with gentle attention until the brush combs through without a single hitch or knot. Buys you sweet smelling perfumes that you purposefully spray into your hair. You can see him swoon each time you spin your head around, your flowery lovely perfume instantly filling his senses.
Gaz who loves giving you the full princess treatment. You have to bully him into leaving his wallet at home after one too many times of you going shopping together and each thing you look at for a little too long Gaz is pulling his card out to purchase. Opens every door for you, from buildings to his car to your bedroom. Puts careful time and attention into every date- he surprises you with how skilled his cooking is. When you ask when and why he learned it, you see him turn away bashfully. His smile blinding when he looks back to you and says, "Well, I just learned it for you..."
Ghost who finds the little soft things around him and brings them to you. Like a crow collecting shiny trinkets, he goes to Paris? Comes home with a replica of a fine painting he saw in a museum there in his off time. A soft, satiny ribbon he finds overseas finds its way home to be your favorite hair accessory. That time he spent in Greece, the dress he brought you home was so soft and dainty you could weep- handmade, too. An absolute heirloom gem you felt you couldn't wear but he insists you wear it, spins you around in it to get a full view. Slow dancing together and he's so overcome with emotion he has to whisper: "You're so beautiful, love."
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Saffy Lemur's Call of Duty Masterlist
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Last updated: 20.12.2023
A/N: Per a few requests, I’ve redone my masterlist to make it easier to navigate the fic categories 💕😊 Original Masterlist
💕💕💕Welcome!!!!💕💕💕
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Simon "Ghost” Riley-
Smut Blurbs
Simon Exploring Choking Kink
Simon And Throat F*cking
Soap And Ghost Threesome
Using Simon To Get Off
Reunion Sex With Simon
Simon Realizing He Has A Daddy Kink
Simon With A Breeding Kink
Late Nights
You're a Minx, You Know That?
You're Mine
Crying During Sex With Simon Riley
Simon And Yours First Time Having Sex
Simon Riley Doesn't Fuck You, He Worships You
Simon's C*ck Being Nearly Too Big For You
Simon And Jealous Sex
Simon Loving The Sight Of You Being F*cked By Him
Simon Letting You Use Him To Forget About Your Bad Day
Simon Sharing You With Johnny
Simon Is a Giver In Bed
Angst Blurbs
You Can't Leave Me
Dreams
I've Got You, Kid
Simon Wanting To Break Up With You Because He Thinks You Deserve Better
Simon Can't Sleep Alone Without You After A Fight
Simon Having A Nightmare About Losing You
Simon Pushing You Away After A Night Together
Fluff Blurbs
Simon telling you he loves you for the first time
Simon Attempting To Cook For Date Night
Simon Riley Showing You His Face For The First Time
Simon Realizing He Has Fallen For You
Simon's Love Language
Simon Coming Home For Good
"I Do"
Asking Simon What His Biggest Regret Is With You
Simon Loves His Wedding Band
Simon Riley And His Kisses
Simon Excited To Call You After A Long Day
Simon Seeing His Family's First Holiday Ornament
Simon Coming Home To You
First Date With Simon
Simon Waking Up Next To You
Simon Comforting You During A Funk
Simon Telling You He Loves You For The First Time
Wanting Simon's Attention While He's Working
Simon Being Scared to Love You
Dad! Simon Blurbs
Simon's Daughter Introducing Him To Her Class
Simon And His Daughter At The Park
Simon's soft moment with his baby girl
Simon's Daughter and Wife Welcoming Him Home On The Tarmac After A Mission
Simon Doing His Daughter's Hair For The First Time
Simon And His Daughter Who Had A Nightmare
Simon Introducing 141 To His Family
Simon Meeting His Newborn For The First Time
Random One- Shots
Soap, The Matchmaker
I'll Take the Big Blue One!
Innate Desire to Protect
Innate Desire to Protect Part 2
Teach Me How To Ride?
Date With Your Lieutenant
Words of Wisdom
What's Your Favorite Color? (Part 2 to Words of Wisdom)
Simon's Bundle of Joy
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141 Boys and Others Multi- Character Fics
Smut
141 + König & Alejandro With Reader Surprising Them With Lingerie
141 + König x Fem! Reader Going Down On Them
141 + König & Alejandro Eating Their Fem! Partner Out
141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed
141 + König With Fem!Reader Riding Them
141 + König + LV Cumming Too Quick
141 + König Where Reader Asks Them For A Baby
141 + König Where They Hurt The Reader During Sex
141 + König Where The Reader Squirts For The First Time
141 + König Where Reader Accidentally Calls Them Daddy In Bed
Losing Your Virginity To 141 + König
141 + LV & König Begging Fem! Reader to Sit On Their Face
Giving 141 Boys Roadhead
Fluff
141 + König With Reader Who is a Major Cuddlebug
141 + LV & König x Reader, Where You Don't Say I Love You Back
141 + König x Reader's First Kiss
141 + König x GN Reader When You Slap/Grab Their Ass Playfully
141 + Konig Telling the Reader They Love Them for The First Time
141 + König & Alejandro With A GN! Reader Who Dodges a Kiss
141 + König Where The Reader Wipes Off Their Kiss
Catching 141 + König By Surprise With A Kiss
Angst
141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation
141 + König Where Fem! Reader Gets Jealous/Insecure
141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma
141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It
141 + König Telling Reader They Hate Them In An Arguement
141 + König Crying In Front Of Reader For First Time
Headcannons
141+ Alejandro, Rudy, and Konig w/ Pregnant Reader Headcannons
141 + Königs Favorite Positions / How They Enjoy Sex HC's
141 + König Fluff Headcannons
Other
Ghost/Soap/König's Reaction to Reader Pouring Salt in Their Coffee
How the 141 Boys + König react to the reader getting an epidural
141 + König with a Reader Who Sneezes are Loud as Shit
141 + König Where The Reader Finds Out She's Having Twins
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As always, my inbox is always open for requests/questions/feedback! :)
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 29] || [Chapter 31]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: injuries + recovery Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: johnny is a filthy man :) but also we love him so is that a problem? no, it's not.
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Chapter 30: Playing House
It took a while, but, Simon got healthy, and John and Kyle got their soreness’ settled enough to be able to go back to work.
Johnny, however, needed a little extra TLC. Being shot in the shoulder involved a longer period of medical leave, paired with a long while of physical therapy…
And that means that he decided to make himself your problem.
The rest of the lads left on a mission a few days after being cleared and, as such, left Johnny with you. Not because the lad is incapable of looking after himself, but more so because he, himself, decided he didn’t want to be away from you.
And so, whenever you leave for work, Johnny leaves for PT, then, goes to base for a bit, mostly doing work on things that he can feasibly do without straining his left shoulder/arm… Like doing paperwork and reports, going to the gym for cardio, crunches, and leg and hip workouts… Then he comes home to you.
He goes shopping for you, cooks you dinner, cleans after the two of you, despite your insistence that he rest… But, as it turns out, Johnny isn’t good at that.
Nonetheless, the flat is cleaner than ever before, Johnny’s drawing supplies are permanently stationed on the dining room table, next to your laptop, and some of his clothes have taken a permanent spot in your closet.
And, of course, he spends every night in your bed, spooning you from behind and hiding his face in your neck while you watch tiktoks, talk, or he regale you with the most ridiculous of puns.
In a way, it’s like Johnny MacTavish is your live-in boyfriend. Or, rather, that you’re playing house with him.
You wouldn’t say you hate it. In fact, it’s quite nice to have someone staying with you all night… Johnny is a good partner, he’s helpful and chill and provides wonderful cuddles…
Though you’ve jokingly started calling him ‘Johnny Price’, because, since he hasn’t been working for a month now, he’s let his beard grow out. And he looks like Price more often than he does not.
It’s on week three of your new routine with Johnny when you’re at work, that you get a text from him:
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Johnny: guess what bonnie. Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]
You definitely should’ve put on some headphones before you watched that video during work… His grunting and groaning was almost pornographic and definitely earned you a few confused/worried looks from your coworkers…
But all you could think of was how he was finally easing back into his arm/shoulder workouts, which meant he finally got cleared by his PT to do as such!
you: did you finally get cleared johnny? 🥺 Johnny: cleared at 50%. Johnny: not there yet. but soon. you: I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! 🫶🫶🫶 Johnny: thank ye bonnie  you: this calls for a celebration! Johnny: i like how ye think bonnie but im not cleared yet to be able to manhandle ye 😏 you: get ur mind out of the gutter johnny price!!!!!!!! Johnny: oof not ye still calling me that! you: ur beard is looking like his what do u expect of me! 🙄 Johnny: yer right idk what i expected. Johnny: so about this celebration. you: i was thinking we go out for dinner? Johnny: are we going to dress up nice? you: i wasn’t thinking we’d go somewhere super fancy because i do not have money johnnyyyy Johnny: oh good because i dont think i can button up a shirt my shoulder is sore 😖 you: okay then! nando’s!!! 🫶  you: and i’ll give you a shoulder rub when we get home Johnny: speaking my language bonnie.
And so that’s what you did. You went home in a hurry to shower and change, and, for once, Johnny wasn’t there, having chosen to shower and change at base.
You met up in front of the Nando’s closest to your flat and you immediately chuckled at the sight of him. Sure, he had changed, but he was still very much wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers and a grey zip-up hoodie… Although you could very obviously tell he was naked beneath the hoodie.
“Mo leannan.” He murmured in an exaggeratedly polite tone as he popped the door open for you with his good arm.
“Thank you, my good sir…” You joked, which caused you both to chuckle and shake your head.
You got inside, ordered your food and, as you talked, you site adjacent to him, right on his left side, so you could gently rub his arm with your hand.
“Do you miss the lads?” You ended up asking him as you caressed his bicep and shoulder with your hand, watching him wince a bit at it, because he felt so sore from his first workout.
“A little.” Johnny admitted as he looked toward you. “Do you miss ‘em?” He returned the question. You found yourself nodding in reply.
“Having you here is wonderful though… I… quite miss you lot when you’re all gone together. Not to mention I worry sick for you.” You admitted and pressed your lips together a bit awkwardly.
“You do?” He asked you, to which you nodded. So, he continued. “Well.. I guess I understand. I imagine my mam and sisters worry about me too… As do the Kyle and the Captain’s families.” He conceded.
“That’s actually…” You found yourself trailing off as the waiter brought you your orders and you thanked him, unboxing your food so you could dig in.
“As I was saying…” You trailed off. “That’s actually an interesting point… I feel like I know very little about you and the guys’ when it comes to your personal lives… Outside of hobbies and what you do with me.” You mused as you glanced at him as he dug into his double chicken burger one-handed.
“I don’t know much about the others myself to be honest with you.” Johnny admitted as he stole one of your chips off your plate.
“Really?” You asked softly as you ate your own sandwich yourself, nodding along as he continued speaking.
“We try to keep our… ‘outside’ lives under wraps. Even being a team… what we talk about is always very superficial.” He trailed off.
“So you don’t know anything about the rest of them, nor them about you?” You cocked a brow in confusion.
“Oh, no, bonnie, I talk about myself a whole lot, I’m a blabber mouth, me.” He joked and winked at you. “But family is one of those topics that’s best kept under wraps in our line of work.” He told you as he leaned in, rubbing his thumb on the corner of your mouth to wipe it clean of peri-peri sauce. Then, he sucked his own thumb clean.
“What about me? Do I get to know about you?” You asked him playfully as you leaned forward, setting your elbow on the table as you lean in to him, eyebrows raised in intrigue.
“Tell ye what, bonnie.” Johnny leaned toward you too, licking his fingers clean and then wiping them on a napkin before he set a hand on your thigh under the table. “Anything I tell ye about my family is not going to do them justice… So how about I take ye up to meet my family over the summer… And ye meet them directly? Could even take the Captain, Simon and Kyle with us.” He offered.
Your eyes widened a bit and you blinked away the surprise, staring at him like he had grown a second head.
“Meeting your family? Really? Isn’t it a bit early for that…?” You chuckled a bit sheepishly.
“Aye, maybe it is…” He trailed off. “But at this point, I’m basically livin’ wit ye and ye’ve looked after me in sickness, haven’t ye?” He joked. “And I’ve fended off yer ex… so I’ve looked after ye in health, haven’t I?”
Rolling your eyes in amusement, you shook your head. You knew he was just joking, the look in his eyes showed it… “Are you implying that we’re married, Johnny?” You teased him playfully.
“I’m just saying…” He trailed off playfully, a playful smirk on his lips. “And, if we were married, not saying that we are,… I’d make sure to take ye home tonight and rearrange yer guts if ye let me, mo leannan.”
Looking away and biting your lip, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut it…” You trailed off. “You need to rest, your shoulder’s bad still.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t use my mouth on ye… and that you can’t be on top.” He added before he grabbed another one of your chips and popped it in his mouth.
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isabella-kr · 1 year
Note
Hi~ hope you are alright!
Could you do a female!reader that cooks as a hobby and is always leaving little gifts for the boys? Maybe she discovers that Ghost likes strawberry cakes and she leaves a bento strawberry cake for him? (could you do platonic and for all the 141?)
Thank you!!! I hope I'm not annoying lol
What an adorable request 😭 you’re not annoying, dw!! I love when people send me asks <33
Sweet like Sugar
Synopsis: Everyone deserves a sweet treat every once in a while, and with her incredible baking skills, she would assure they would have theirs
Pairing: Taskforce 141, Los Vaqueros, Valeria, Gromsko & König x Platonic!Female!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Mention of low blood sugars, being mentally and physically drained
General Masterlist | COD:MWII Masterlist
Intro
Having baking as a hobby often proved difficult on base, so whenever she got the chance to put her skills to use, she made sure she gave it her all
She would make all sorts of sweet treats - from cakes and pies, to cupcakes and cookies.
Baking for one wasn’t as fun, however, and so she always made sure to make something yummy for some of her favourite people
Even if they hadn’t requested anything, she always kept them in mind
John Price
He was finishing paperwork when she knocked on his door
With a stern ‘come in,’ he placed the pen down on the desk, sending her a small smile when she tiptoes towards him
In her hands, she held a see-through container with a row of blueberry muffins already waiting for him
“What’s this?”
“This is for you!” She grinned, “Thought you might use some sugar. Give you some energy whilst you’re busy with work.”
He hummed, taking the container from her hands and swiftly pulling one of the muffins
The sweet smell immediately enveloped him like a warm blanket, making him smile as he took his first bite
“This is delicious,” he complemented, not wasting any taking another bite, “thank you.”
She grinned from ear to ear, happiness practically radiating off of her as she took a step back
“If you’d like some more, let me know!” She cheered, pulling the door closed as she left him to enjoy the sweet treat
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
She’s seen him eyeing them before, when they passed a bakery on a covert mission
Strawberry cakes. One wouldn’t expect the infamous ghost to have a weakness for the red fruit, but it was a welcome surprise
Upon their return, one of the first things she’s done - after all the paperwork, of course - was head to the kitchen and bake them for him
He deserved them, really. He deserved to have a little break; to sweeten up his pain-filled life
She only hoped they were to his liking
Knocking on the door to his room, she patiently waited for him to open up
She already had the bento held out once the door was opened, and although his face was hidden by his mask, his eyes were expressive enough for her to see what he was thinking
Confusion
“I saw you ogling them back out there,” she began, “So I made you some!”
She held out the door closer towards him, and watched as he hesitantly took it from her
“I hope you like them…”
He stared at the treats for a few seconds, his eyes visibly softening at the sweet gesture
“Thank you,” he said after a short while, to which she replied with a simple smile
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish
Soap was always busy. always moving. Whether it was at the gym, a sparring session, or preparing for an upcoming mission
He was always on the move. And knowing him, he did not take the time to take much care of his body’s needs
His blood sugars were low, she was quick to notice after he once again secretly complained about his dizziness, uncontrollable sweating and shaky hands
She could only shake head head and tell him, for what felt like a millionth time, he needed to take better care of himself
She doubted he’d listen, but she also knew he wouldn’t refuse a sweet treat if it was given to him
So, she decided to put her baking skills to good use
Baking him a stack of delicious cookies, she placed them in a sealed container and trotted towards his room late in the evening
He was quick to open a door, a sweet smile gracing his lips once she came into view
“There are for you,” she held the box out for him to take
He looked confused at first, taking the box with careful hands and taking a peek inside. But once he realised what goodness laid beneath the lid, he practically beamed in delight
He wasted no time taking one out and taking a great bite out of it
“Mmm!” He hummed, licking his lips as the chocolate melted on his mouth, “They’re incredible!”
She grinned in return, fully enjoying his reaction
“If you’ll want more, just let me know!”
“Believe me, I will,” he chuckled, only growing quiet to take another bite
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick
Gaz often complained about the lack of variety of desserts at lunch
So one day, she decided it was time she made him some
She wasn’t sure whether she just wanted to do something nice for a friend, or maybe she just wanted him to stop complaining for once
Whatever it was, it led her to spending an hour or two in the kitchen
When lunch rolled around, she had the sweets neatly packed in a box, which she set beside him after they settled on a table
“What’s this?” He asked curiously
She only smiled, “open it.”
The smile that pulled at his lips once he saw the muffins were a sight for sore eyes
He was eager to take one out right then and there, but what stopped when you slapped his hand away
“Lunch first.”
He rolled his eyes, but complied nonetheless, practically shoving the food in his mouth so he could finally taste the sweet goodness
And when he did, it was as though he was on cloud nine
Hums of delight rolled out his throat, and it was safe to say he did not complain that day, or the day after
Alejandro Vargas
Alejandro was a busy man
He was also a tired man, barely catching the sleep he so desperately needed
She knew she couldn’t force him to sleep, but she could help him in another way
She could sweeten his life just a little bit
It was after a hectic mission that she took her residence in the kitchen and began baking up a storm
The smell was heavenly, but before she managed to eat all the cake by herself, she packed a few slices up for the colonel and made her way to his office
A tired ‘come in,’ sounded from the inside of the room
She opened the door slowly and carefully before making her way in, and setting the box on his desk
He looked at it confused at first, but then after she gestured at it, he pulled it towards him and took a look inside
“Ah,” a smile took over his features, “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” she replied
After sealing the box, he put it to the side to enjoy later, “Thank you.”
She nodded, “If you’d like some more, there’s some in the kitchen.”
Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra
Rudy was a sweet man
He usually wore a smile on his face, and always treated those around him with respect
But despite this, it was easy to see when the missions were getting the better of him
When it was becoming too much
When he was tired, both physically and mentally
After seeing him force a smile, she decided it was time someone did something nice for him
She made her way to the kitchen in record speed and, after gathering all the needed ingredients, she created her work of art
It wasn’t much. It was a simple batch of cookies that anyone could make, really
But it was the thought that counts
She made sure they were sealed properly before she made her way towards his room
He opened the door tiredly, and the smile once again had to be forced onto his face
“Here,” she handed the box over to him
He took it with a confused look, his eyes closing when the smell invaded his space
A small, yet real, smile pulled at the corners of his lips. It was a pleasant sight, and it caused her own lips to curl upwards
“Thank you,” he told her appreciatively
“I hope you enjoy them…”
“I will.”
Valeria Garza
Valeria barely ever had time for personal pleasures
The cartel kept her busy, and often put her in ridiculously dangerous situations
She barely allowed herself rest, and so, over time, the simple pleasures of life were neglected by her; forgotten
She had seen how hard she worked every single day. From early mornings to late in the night
It was a sad sight
So, she took it upon herself to brighten her day just a little bit
The muffins were soft and sweet, but not too sweet to the point your teeth would hurt after a few bites
With the carefully sealed in a container, she made her way to where she knew Valeria always went when she needed to clear her head
“Hope I’m not disturbing,” she muttered, catching her attention
She turned to you, her brows furrowing at the disturbance, but she said nothing
“I made these for you,” she simply said, handing her the sweet treats
She was hesitant to take them, her eyes analysing her as if trying to work out whether she had any ulterior motives
“You’ve just looked overworked,” she tried to explain herself, “I thought you might use something sweet to… but if you don’t want them-“
“No,” she held the box closer towards her when she reached to take it back, “Thank you.”
“Of course!” She grinned happily, smiling when she heard the container open once she was out of the drug lord’s view
Gromsko
Gromsko was a nostalgic man, and often spoke fondly of his grandmother
He told her about the many many memories he’s had of her, and oftentimes mentioned her delicious jabłecznik (it’s a Polish cake w/ apples in it & it’s absolutely delicious)
He mentioned it one too many times, because she soon got the idea to surprise him with the delicious goodness
She couldn’t be certain it would taste like his grandmother’s. In fact, she was sure it most likely didn’t, but she was eager to bring that taste of childhood back into his life
So, one day, she made him the sweet cake, and packed it neatly in a big container
He was easy to find, taking some time to relax on a bench outside one of the barracks to take in the fresh air
She sat beside him, and handed over the box with a genuine smile
“It probably doesn’t taste the same, but I hope you like it nonetheless,”
He was bewildered, and had to take a few moments to return back to reality
The smell alone was enough to send him back in time, and when a smile made its way onto his lips, she couldn’t help but mirror his expression
“Thank you,” he told her, staring fondly at the container in his hands, “thank you so much.”
König
This man has a sweet-tooth
He loved all that was sweet, often having little treats hidden away in his pockets in case he got hungry throughout the day
But there was one problem
When given a choice between two, or multiple treats, he never knew what to pick
He made it seem as though it was the most difficult decision he was ever presented with. It was hilarious, really, but it could also become frustrating for the others
So, one day, she decided to choose for him
She woke up earlier that day, and made him some sweet cupcakes she was sure he would appreciate
And when lunch came around, instead of having him stare indecisively at the row of desserts, she dragged him to a table and before he could complain, handed him the container
The excitement in his eyes was visible from miles away; certain sparkle appeared in them, causing her to let out an amused laugh
“Thank you!” He told her, his tone cheery yet serious at the same time
“No worries,” she told him, “I hope you’ll like them.”
“Oh, I definitely will!”
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sprout-fics · 9 months
Text
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Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Seven: Gentle)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Courting rituals, Near-death experiences, Man-handling, Gentling, No NSFW
Masterlist
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You think things might be different once the 141 starts courting you
And to be fair, they are
The group accepts you into the fold easily, integrates you as one of their own. In the work setting it’s strictly professional, and it takes you a while to figure out the degree of separation between work and…the rest of it
You run drills with them, train alongside Soap and Gaz on the obstacle course, listen to Ghost’s orders in the training maze, and listen to Price as he demonstrates advanced weapons skills. You learn more with them in a few weeks than you have in years of service, and at the end of each day you find yourself exhausted by trying to absorb every inch of information, trying your best to earn your keep, remind yourself you earned this on your own merits
Your work consumes most of your waking hours, but in the soft in-betweens, there’s a gentler, more tender element to your relationship with these men
You’re not sure what you’re expecting, really. You’ve never been officially courted before. You think about the stories of alpha suitors swaying the affections of their omega interest with a dozen roses, with candlelit dinners and passionate kisses under twinkling stars
The idea, romantic as it is, is not the 141’s style
Instead you find yourself having a much unchanged relationship with the rest of the team
Gaz and Soap drag you off to movie night still, sit you between them and lean up against you so your scents intermingle. Each of them catches you alone, asks for your company for various reasons
Gaz takes you grocery shopping, and while not necessarily romantic, the time you spend with him after cooking a meal for the group makes a tender warmth flutter in your chest
Soap takes you hiking, smoothes a hand down your back when you double over for breath, and bares his teeth at a nearby alpha hiker who mistakes Soap for another alpha, leaving well enough alone
Price invites you to him, and while he doesn’t offer a gesture so grand as outings or flowers, the quiet, beloved gentleness of your evening hours spent together talking and reading have the same effect
Ghost, much to your surprise, is strangely hesitant with his efforts. It takes you a while to realize he’s never once courted someone, not even Johnny. You’re not sure what you expected, given his propensity to act as a tall, foreboding guard dog around you. Yet the instinct of defense, protection, is so very different than the gestures the other men give you, and Simon struggles with the gentler aspect of romance
You don’t mind, not really. The idea of Ghost showing up in a suit with a bouquet, of a fancy restaurant or anything so cliche has you smirk wryly when he isn’t looking, think about how silly it is
He does approach you one day, in the evening when the base is quiet, and pushes a small, wrapped package into your hands, waits for you to open it
A knife. A very good one, just the right size for your tac vest, and with an edge so sharp it seems to slice across your wide-eyed expression caught in the silvery reflection. 
Figures that, of all things, it would be a weapon that Simon would give you as a courting gift. Something to protect yourself with if he wasn’t there
When you thank him, Simon’s shoulders relax, as if he was somehow afraid you’d reject this. He nods, moves to excuse himself, when he pauses
A hand reaches out between you both, raises to your soft bump on the side of your neck, and a gloved thumb traces over your gland. Gently, a featherlight touch, just enough to scent you
You shove your head into your pillow that night, face warming like a schoolgirl with her very first love
It turns out you need the knife much earlier than you thought
The mission you and the team are on turns sour. A partial building collapse leads to you being separated from the group, and you call the tell them you’re safe, that you’ll find a way around
Only to stumble into a nest of enemies
There’s nowhere to run, no bodies at your back, your team likely hearing gunfire but with no way to reach you
You plant your feet, refuse to concede, fire rapid, calculating shots until your clips run low and even then the enemies just keep coming
You operate entirely on instinct, adrenaline, centuries old evolutionary adaptations boiling in your blood as your omega instincts see only threat, danger, escape, survival
When you run out of ammunition, you resort to your knife, forcing it into wet flesh and bone, fangs popping out, wild-eyed, snarling. An untamed, feral animal that’s been cornered, lashes out with all its might in desperate, vicious fear
You’re soaked in blood by the time the team forces their way to you, hands trembling, crimson smeared across your gear, muscles taut, and when Gaz reaches for you to look for injuries you snarl, snap at him. Instincts still on overdrive, not recognizing your allies, heart thrumming so loudly in your ears you can’t make out their words to you
You fight them off, chest heaving violently as they try to calm you down, hyperventilating and looking past them for a way out, for escape-
A hand settles across your nape
You growl at first, ominous, a threat. Yet all you’re answered with in turn is a deeper, more commanding growl, one that slithers into your hindbrain as it demands surrender, submission
A body cages yours into the wall before you, and even when you writhe the alpha captain above you doesn’t relent. Instead his thumb grazes up to your gland, presses down with just enough force to make your limbs grow a little more relaxed
There’s a low, soothing purr that replaces the sharp warning growl from Price, one that rumbles deep in his chest and slides silkily across your wired senses, cools the searing awareness from your tautly held form
“Good.” He tells you breathily as you whine placatingly, stretch your neck for better access in a gesture of submission
He’s gentling you, you realize belatedly. Calming you down from your hyper driven state, manhandling you into submission so you relax, letting the adrenaline rush fade so you can come back to your senses
The sudden clarity of the act makes the remnant stress in your body collapse, figure sagging into him as he keeps you upright
“That’s it.” Price purrs into your ear, a little husky in a way that makes something delicious pulse between your thighs. “Easy does it, love. You’re safe now.”
Safe. With an alpha you trust, one who’s protected you, who’s rescued you, who saved your life all that time ago
Your eyes flutter as you whimper, a heavy sluggishness descending upon you as you reach the end of your adrenaline, head dropping with fatigue
When Price releases you, it’s through his strength alone that you don’t drop to the ground. Gaz steadies you on your other side, and together they held you until you’re strong enough to stand on your own once more
You lean on them willingly, let their familiar scents assuage your overheated senses, relax into Gaz’s hands once it’s safe to check you over, eyes fluttering
You’re injured from the chaos. A gash where a bullet grazed you. Inches from devastation. It’s not bad, but it leaves a scar in the weeks to come
A reminder, you think, of your survival, of the thing you did despite your own doubts, without them. Earning your place.
Knowing they’re there to catch you when you fall
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
Note
Could you do a poly 141! If you’re comfortable with it! I’d prefer fluffy poly 141. Or if you’re not comfortable! Maybe Ghoap or just ghost x reader fluff! I’m not that big of a smut fan when it comes to cod, these poor military men just need a hug
with lots of love - 🩰
FERAL FOR POLY 141 FE RAL FERAL FERAL can u tell that I like this dynamic just a lil bit ( a totally normal amount )
You're pottering around the kitchen when the boys come home from the gym, said boys not including a very sullen Johnny who threw his knee out last week leading you to promptly issue a very firm bed rest order, swatting your tea towel at him when he'd attempted to slip out this morning with his gym bag.
Kyle is on you immediately to see what you're whipping up, whilst John goes off to shower and Simon goes to bring in more logs for the slowly dwindling fire. You attempt to shoo Kyle away as he and Johnny sidle up to your back, nipping at your neck or toying with your hair - making your cooking far more difficult. You successfully manage to shoo Johnny away with a spoonful of creme brûlée stuffed into his open mouth, whilst Kyle sticks at your side like a limpet, whinging about how he'd missed you at the gym and that the boys are all so testosterone-y, which you promptly shut up with a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. With the first lot of grumbling military men out of your hair, you seek Simon out where he smokes on the porch, a steaming mug of earl grey in one hand and a brownie in the other. He promptly moves his cigarette to his other hand so that he can scoop you up against his side, resting his chin against the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and perfume appreciatively. You yourself give an appreciative hum at the warmth of his presence, your wellies and pyjama shorts not doing very much against the chilly morning outside the cozy confines of home.
"How's Johnny?" He rumbles into your hair, pulling back momentarily to take a drag from his cigarette before sidling back up to you. "A pain in the ass." You huff fondly back, unable to hide the pity in your voice for the normally eternally energetic Scotsman. "Cabin fever's got him practically bouncing off the walls." "And you? Are you doing okay, birdie?" "M' just happy to have all my boys home and safe." The sound of your voice melts into the quiet birdsong and the eternally soothing sound of Simon's slightly raspy breathing from the deviated septum he'd managed to get after breaking his nose a few years back.
The sound of the door swinging open doesn't disrupt you and Simon from your shared moment of peace, John coming out with one of his cigars hanging between his lips, free hand snaking around your waist as he leans against the porch. Quickly you notice the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, and his expression focussed intently on what the person on the other end is saying. John puffs away at his cigar, fidgeting absently with the waistband of your shorts whilst you and Simon chat away about nothing, careful not to let your voices be heard by whoever John's on the phone to.
Growing sick of the cold, you give Simon and John kisses respectively before retreating inside where Kyle and Johnny have settled on the couch, playstation controllers in hand and a video game shown on the large flatscreen Johnny'd insisted you all bought when you moved in together. You're quick to shimmy up beside Johnny, settling your head on his lap, soothed by the sound of he and Kyle talking about the game, John and Simon soon joining the three of you. Simon squishes between Kyle and Johnny in order to play with your hair and chat to you about your day, whilst John gathers your legs up and plops them into his lap, tracing patterns across the bare skin of your calves as he reads something on his phone.
You eventually find yourself dozing off in spite of the ruckus around you, only waking at midday when you're coaxed off of the couch by Kyle who carries your tired body to the simple dining room where the others are laying the table, diligently having taken the large piece of meat you'd been slow roasting all morning from the oven, placed in the middle of the table.
The boys thank you as you all tuck into the hearty, late lunch you'd prepared, laughter and chatter filling the cozy room, gratitude palpable amongst you.
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