#Gaz x Reader

[quarterlifekitty]

peacocking (how they show off. Maybe they're doing it to impress you, maybe not...)

König can reach the overhead bins on the plane so fucking easily. And he doesn't care how heavy your carry-on is, he's putting it up there for you. That's his flex.

Gaz is the guy who will take a picture for you and your friends at a tourist destination, and it will be perfect. Several angles, several orientations, and all taken at just the right moment. And when you tell him you made you look really good, he'll tell you he just has a way of making cameras tell the truth.

Soap smiles and he lifts shit for you. Simple as. Man is the king of carrying shit to your car for you in 1 trip.

Price speaks up on your behalf when you're clearly not going to say anything. When someone cuts you in line, or ignores your question, or gets your order completely wrong. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, really, but it makes it clear that he's paying attention.

Ghost is in the same group entering the haunted house as you. And he doesn't flinch once. So obviously he seems like the best person to cling to when you get scared. That's what he's desperately hoping.

Rudy is going to, by whatever miracle necessary, gets you what you want. Doesn't matter if you need a refund for something, or you need to get on a plane when the gate just closed, or you need a substitution made in your food-- he just has a way with people. He doesn't raise his voice at all, but he has this way about him that makes people more willing to bend the rules.

[chamomiletealeaf]

I humbly (desperately) beg you to keep writing fat pussy reader. Like actually. Ugh, We need more plushy reader representation 🛐 Your fic is absolutely divine

IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED ANON 😋 HERE'S SOME MORE MUAHAHA

They fucking love when you wear bikinis. You'd be in a hot tub and stand up to reach over and grab your drink from the side of the tub giving them the perfect view of your fat pussy covered by the tiny material of your bikini bottoms. The way it's so noticeable when you bend over in your little bikini is so fuckin' sexy to them they can't help but cup it in their hands to cop a feel of it. Even in cute little pajama shorts they can see your sweet plush pussy when you bend over. You best believe they're shoving their faces into it from behind licking at you through whatever you're wearing whether it be your panties, bikini bottoms, or little pajama shorts.

They love eating you out from behind the most because they get to not only bury their face in your pretty fat pussy, but also because they get to suffocate themselves in your thighs and ass cheeks. Never mind if they can breathe or not, they'll die the happiest man on the planet.

And if you have a piercing? They're done for. They didn't think such a perfect pussy could get even prettier. They'd play with it with their tongues or with their fingers while fucking you.

Would make it their life mission to get you to squirt. Seeing such a juicy pussy squelch and squirt around their cocks would make them cum inside you immediately.

Pussy slapping 100% They'd slap your fat pussy while fucking you with your knees to your ears to watch how your cute little clit twitches in response. And when they thigh fuck you? It's the best of both worlds because not only do they get to feel your thick thighs squeezing them, they feel your pussy rubbing against them trapping their cock between your pussy and thighs.

Please let them play with your pussy, they just love how fat and cute it is so much.

[ghouljams]

which of the 141 men do you think has the biggest dollification kink?

I think for turning their partner into a doll it feels like price and for being turned into a doll it's giving either soap or gaz but idk

thoughts?

Turning their partner into a doll: Gaz for sure.

Gaz craves control, but he knows how to disguise it, and he knows how to ration it. He'd absolutely adore dressing up his partner, pulling what they'll wear for the day or for date night, ordering for them at a restaurant and feeding them at home. He loves the feeling of ownership that he gets when he maneuvers you into sitting perfectly still and pretty on the couch so he can just... look at you. Unlike where Price wants to turn his partner into a perfect wife, Gaz wants a perfect toy. He wants that sweet doll that will take all his touching and care without a complaint because you enjoy it too. He wants to make you feel good but he also wants to control every step of that feeling. You want to do your nails? Gaz will set up the uv lamp and pull out his polishes. If only because it gives him a little thrill having you show off his work(which you let him do because you're his).

For becoming a doll, Oh god every atom in me wants to say: Ghost.

The man wants to be used. He wants to be a tool, a toy. He wants you to lay him on the bed and force him to take the care he can't ask for. Sinking into that heads pace of "can't move, can't speak, can only receive" is probably both incredibly scary and incredibly therapeutic for him. He cringes and tightens up in anticipation only to be met with gentle hands that ply his pleasure from him. He's a good doll, good control, won't buck, won't grab you if you give the order, he'll lay still and let you do whatever you want to him. Which is a huge amount of trust that he only gives to you, and you could break it so easily with just one punishment. So the relationship only works with the understanding that you won't be dealing out any. But I think he'd be a good doll, Gaz is pretty but doesn't need to get out of his head the same way, Price needs a different pampering as well, and Soap wants it too bad.

[cherie-doll]

Can I request COD Men dating a medic reader,??

I love your writing sm ^-^

Ofc!

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men x Medic!Reader

Price

Imagine being the new medic and you're nervous because it's your first time working there so you have to try your best to hold it together while patching people up

But one day Price comes in injured and you have to control your nerves as you clean his wound up, he's surprisingly nice and even makes small talk with you, it calms you down

After, you manage to keep thinking about that interaction, just how nice it felt to have a normal conversation, it took your mind off of things and honestly it kept you from a mini panic attack from happening

He wishes he could come see you more often, he liked how refreshing it felt to meet someone who seemed a little hesitant, too afraid to mess up, he likes how you smiled after speaking with him

Since he's busy most of the time he can't come to you as often, but I imagine he likes to invite you to just come and talk to him as you drink with him, it's comforting knowing you can bask in his company and he provides you a shoulder to rest on

Ghost

Believe it or not he trusts you a lot, he shows up to your office in his most vulnerable moments, when he's hurt you treat him and never mention anything of it, he knows it's just you doing your job but he can't help but feel like there is an underlying tone to it

He likes resting in your office or recovery room when he wants to get away from everyone else but can't find a quiet place to do so, he likes his alone time and if being in the medic's room where no one is to come in looking for him then he'll stay there during his free time

He secretly started growing a stronger liking to you when you covered for him and told his buddies they couldn't visit because he "needed to rest", not that he hates his friends he just likes his alone time

He often struggles to sleep so to get away from the other soldiers who snore loudly he'll come to you knowing you're almost always up late and drinking tea, like a cat who is content sitting without talking or doing anything next to you and eventually falls asleep

You tend to admire him silently, the features that you can see through his balaclava when he's not aware of it

Soap

Every time he comes to get checked up he likes making you laugh and telling you the worst jokes, but it makes you laugh lightly and honestly keeps you awake and sane from working overtime since you treat a lot of emergencies

He will be laughing as if he doesn't feel the alcohol you're using to disinfect his wound, he likes pretending like he doesn't feel pain when you push the needle in because he doesn't want to be weak in front of you, it's sort of turned into you trying to make him wince or show that it hurts but he tries grits his teeth and holds it in

Doesn't even know he likes you like that until others are teasing him about how often he talks about you and how he'll try to impress you, in his mind he hasn't come to that realization yet, not that he's denying it because he really enjoys your company

You probably get very nervous checking his eyes when you shine the flashlight on them because you notice the way his eyes crinkle, indicating he's smiling and you have to hold the grin before it shows on your face

As a boyfriend he'd be coming by every moment he can to just cling to you when you're on your breaks and you'll have a hard time getting him to leave you alone or give you some space

Gaz

I can imagine him already having a liking to you, he likes coming by every morning that he can to visit you before anyone else can bother you and just hanging around your office when he's in need of good company

You enjoy his company because he's not unnecessarily flirty like other the others are, he's respectful, caring about your mental health because you deal with so many people on the daily but with him it's different, you don't feel that obligation to smile or put on a fake act around him

Your tired eyes light up seeing him knowing you're going to be recharged emotionally and mentally, it's come to the point where you even seek him after your work is done hoping to spend more time with him

It's sort of hard finding time alone together when so many other people are friends with him yet the moment he sees you he'll pull away from everyone else to go to you

Roach

I have a hc that even if he survives the absolute worst situations no one else has he still deals with the aftermath of it and it's many complications and frequently getting checkups from you just to assure his health is good enough to keep getting sent out to missions

He ends up spending more time with you than he does with most of the other soldiers or members of the task force

He confides so much in you, things he'd never share with anyone else and yet you listen to him so attentively it honestly makes him develop an attachment to you and he'd look for any opportunity to reciprocate the attention you give him

You sometimes hate the way others treat him, despite being a chill guy to be around he's often a little out of orbit when it comes to socializing with the others, you'd think going through shit together would unite them but strangely enough he doesn't get enough dopamine from them like he does with you

It might be wrong to feel this way but you care more about him than all the others, you'll rush to attend his needs before the others

Alejandro

He is actually a very lousy patient, it takes you ages to try to get him to take medication or inject the needle into him despite him always teasing the other soldiers who have had medical procedures done to them

You have to be ready with a cloth and ice pack to instantly place on him or else he'll be wanting to bang his head against the wall for the dramatics, you let him hold your hand, anything to bring him comfort or some sort of relief at that point

To avoid getting to that level of pain he'll often drink before coming to you so he's not fully in his senses to actually feel or register anything you may be doing that would usually cause him to panic, you hate when he does this because you prefer him to be fully aware

Other than that he'll always try flirting with you or calling you something like "chula" in Spanish when passing by you and you simply roll your eyes and hide a smirk knowing he's nothing like that when you approach with a needle

Rudy

He's probably known you since before you were a medic, he's seen how much effort you've put into your training to be where you are today he respects you so much for it

He worries so much for you, probably more than you do for him which is funny because he has the "riskier" job, but he often worries about how you are being treated knowing some of the soldiers you treat have trauma and it can make you very stressed with them

He makes sure you get your much needed rest, especially during the breaks everyone else is gone and you still have to stay around "just in case"

There was this one time he was injured pretty badly and he had to be laid down as someone called the medic, he didn't know who would come but he felt his heart skip a beat seeing it was you running towards him, you knelt by his side and with a warm smile reassured him you wouldn't let him slip away from your grasp just yet

He didn't even need a painkiller when he held your hand to his chest so you could feel how much his heart beat showing you he was still alive and well

Phillip Graves

He could be dying on the bed, clutching a wound with blood gushing out and he'll still manage to give a smug smile and ask for your number, you want to suffocate him with a pillow sometimes but you'll most likely be blamed for medical malpractice, instead you just say "HIPPA" and that shuts him up for now

I like to think he brings his Shadows for checkups like a father bringing his children to the pediatrician, some of them aren't fond of it but he makes them go through it to ensure they are healthy and fit for their next mission or training

If one of his Shadows get severely injured he's rushing to see you with them in his arms (he can't actually carry them have you seen how big his Shadows are??) and begging you to help them, will literally be in tears hoping they heal up just fine and that nothing bad ends up happening

Afterwards, you just kinda have to give him that reassurance and he'll be eternally grateful to you for what you do for him and his team, and don't think that just because you aren't "that important" to his company because he makes sure you feel like a vital member of the family

Him and the Shadows will enjoy spending time with you outside of your work area just to show their appreciation

Makarov

You often worry about him, more than you should, he's always taking risks and needed to end up being brought into your office to have something done to him, you can only sigh and lecture him but he's never the type to take his injuries seriously, most of the time he takes bold decisions and that impacts his health

Most of the time he prefers having you go to him, so you have to pack your stuff up and go treat whatever he's dealing with, he often uses these opportunities as excuses to get to know you better and just overall toy with you

You hate when he does this as it wastes time and he's keeping you away from patients who could be needing treatment, whenever you hint at this he simply shrugs it off, clearly not caring about others

You carry so much responsibility on your shoulders to be carelessly leaving where you're stationed to treat a paper cut, but after all he always slips in something extra to keep you coming

Keegan

Loves to initiate arguments with you for the fun of it, you two will be bickering over him not wanting to take a prescription you've given him

You could be stressing over an infected cut and he's trying to act as if it were nothing, that being said the sounds he makes when he's injured and grunting and clutching his arm or side in pain and trying to control his breathing have me AKJERUJS-

He doesn't actually get to see you all that often as he wishes but you know he'll be coming to get "treated" when he comes back from a mission, he always thinks to come see you before anyone else can

And he knows you're often at risk too when you have to go along to treat sick and injured soldiers, he doesn't like to dwell too much on how you could be in danger so he just chooses to focus on his task knowing if he's not careful he won't be able to make it back to tease you again

König

He's the type to rarely go to the medic just because wounds on his body heal insanely fast but also because you will have to FORCE this man to enter your office

He was used to his the previous medic, an older man who took his time with each patient, could barely see which is why he often told the soldiers who came to him to read the medicine labels for him and such

But imagine his surprise when he walks into your office and sees a younger medic there instead of the old medic, he's completely silent as he sits in the chair waiting for you to clean a wound he only came because the pain got so bad he couldn't suppress it

Now he's considering saying he's fine and walking out, but you're already washing your hands and putting gloves on, going over to him and asking for him to show you the injury

He has to look away and his eyes roam the room, looking for something to focus on other than your focused stare, and gentle fingertips that hover over his skin as you inspect the wound that he could have ignored for a little longer

Horangi

He is a headache to deal with, comes in after every mission to get his injuries treated but will talk A LOT, mostly boasting and smug explaining how he got this bruise and those cuts

You're tired of hearing him but honestly you'll take whatever as a distraction, and you know he's BUILT like that man will be flexing his biceps and you can't help but stare at them, also his waist?!?

Before leaving he always jokes for you not to miss him incase he doesn't come back from the next mission, you just roll your eyes because you don't want to admit that he's grown on you and his absence is something you don't even want to think about

He likes sending you notes with flirty messages on them to show his growing interest in wanting to pursue a relationship with you because you never give in to letting him have your number, he always wants to take you out to some fancy restaurant or cook for you himself, anything to get you out of your office for a day and spend it with him alone

Nikto

You're often doing a million things at once, quickly treating a patient and ushering them out so you can see the next one who's grunting as they wait in line, that day Nikto has to get something treated and he just so happens to go on a busy day

You're in a rush to treat your patients in pain but he notices some of them aren't even in pain, they seem to have relaxed looks on their faces and they don't have any wounds that he can see, they even joke and laugh with one another

Turns out some of them are only there to chat with you, as happens most of the time with soldiers who are stationed in one place too long with little to no freedom to roam anywhere else, Nikto doesn't understand why they would waste your time when it's finally his turn to see you and you tenderly yet efficiently treat him

He likes the way you touched him, even if it was only you doing your job, he likes your pretty eyes, even if you barely looked at him, he thinks your voice is precious to hear, even if you only used it to direct a single question to him, now he understands those soldiers in line who don't mind waiting an hour just to be with you for a moment

[arannellahowlett]

How they kiss you (on the lips)

Kissing techniques of the 141 + König and Alejandro...with gifs!

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is all about the fun and spontinaity of it, you're on a drive? Oh he'll kiss you and watch the road. Little nips here and there, it wont take long for his mouth to go exploring...

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz is 100% sneaking up on you as you're doing the most mundane things and wrapping himself around you for a series of sweet kisses...this will rapidly spiral out of control and turn into a make out session, he has also been known to kiss you when you're lying on the couch or bed with your eyes closed, upside down Spiderman style...without hanging from the rafters.

Captain John Price

Listen, John is a passionate guy, he's going to literally envelop you in his arms, in a nice little, protective cocoon and kiss you with everything that he is. It's soft, its slow and he's going to savour it, now that's not to say that he doesn't get more rambunctious, but normal everyday kissing? Nice and slow.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Oh boy, strap yourself in because for Simon, you get 2, because I feel like Simon has two modes...

Okay, so mode 1: every day Simon. The man just wants to love you and feel you around him, he is straight up picking you up, wrapping those big strong arms around you and just...being,

So let's say he's been or is being deployed, hell, he's just having a bad day (and let's be honest here, he has a lot of those.). This man wants to full on consume you. He is pouring everything that he is into these kisses, with a good grip on you so you can't escape, hell, he's even biting a bit. You're his reason for breathing, the blood in his veins and why he does what he does and he's making it known.

König

Okay, so hear me out, König is a big boy, so much so that you're either not able to reach, or he's straining his back, so his solution? He's straight up picking you up and you're either against the wall or at the mercy of his arms, his actaualy kisses are slow, somewhat timid at first but once he's kissed you once, he can't get enough of you.

Alejandro

Okay, you look at Alejandro and tell me if you see anything but passion from the man? He is straight up pulling you into his lap, his hands going everywhere, he starts off slow and gentle but it doens't take long before the man is absolutely consuming you.

[codnasties]

gaz is synonym of messy makeout. just full passion and neediness, teeth clattering and you sloppily kiss. his hand cupping your cheek, a cheeky thumb slipping to your throat, feeling your rapid pulse. your hand playing with his hair as he pushes his tongue inside of your mouth, like a starved man. he's definitely the type to use one of his feet to urge your legs slightly apart, pushing one of strong thighs between them, and light pushing it against your weeping needy cunt. oh and when he pulls away to catch a breath... a small thread of spit connecting the two of you as those pretty honeyd eyes clash with yours.

[quarterlifekitty]

why they started that sugar daddy life lol

Like the rest of them, Gaz's career doesn't budget for consistent availability. He'd feel bad if he was always keeping a girl at home waiting for him to come back. Solution? Pay a girl. It's like having a girlfriend on retainer.

We've discussed this. Soap's too fucking weird to pick up women who don't have some sort of monetary incentive. He has too many weird preferences about what you're gonna smell like when you meet up with him. Normal girlfriends don't like that.

Ghost fucking hates dating. he doesn't wanna have to sit through an interview just to get pussy on a consistent basis. And he's also pretty possessive so he realizes that falling in love with a regular prostitute would probably end badly. He also doesn't want a girlfriend that can get mad at him for being emotionally closed off.

Price is too damned controlling. Wants to know where you are all the time, wants you to answer right away when he calls you, wants to know who you're talking to in your spare time. And money can buy any privilege, including a right to your privacy.

König is terrified of rejection, and of a breakup. Paying you is like his insurance against that. And he can't be broken up with if it isn't a real relationship, right?

Nikolai just wants the dependency from the get-go. He wants to be your world, and for you to need him. What better way to do that than funding your lifestyle?

Rudy is too particular about style. He's even met a good amount of prospective sugar babies that wouldn't yield on this area. Nail and lip color has to be red. Wants you in pumps when he takes you out to dinner. Wants matching lingerie sets, garters, and stockings.

[silkenwinger]

before i crash out i just want to declare my favorite generic plots for 141 reader inserts.

ghost and fraternization... name a more iconic duo. something about romancing a man who so obviously "lives" for his job at said job. someone is sweating bullets about being found out (you) someone is contemplating doing even worse things to you in front of everyone (ghost). a je ne sais quoi of tension mmmm

being hit by soap manic pixie dream boyness... you're just off minding your business he rocks your world he pivots the order of your life so much you're never ever getting over him even after he mysteriously disappears... only to pop up years later even more pumped up. it's so over for you

being meticulously selected by price himself. yeah he's knocking you up. no i don't why you precisely but get the house and bag and ring. better than wage slaving no? don't worry about the cameras. just a security thing. yeah in the walk in wardrobe too.

to no one's surprise but yours, gaz, your older brother's friend, reveals himself to not be prince charming himself but just a man after all... by drinking a beer or so? you were like eleven and it was a very shocking sight. cue ten years of him trying to redeem himself in your eyes

[khlilsstuff]

@dirhwangdaseul @b0nkcreat @tamamita @chokulit @3000s @apas-95 @pitbolshevik @ot3 @punkitt-is-here @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @paper-mario-wiki @valtsv @omegaversereloaded @i-am-a-fish @catsgifsarefun @spongebobssquarepants @postanagramgenerator @feluka @nyancrimew @90-ghost @beserkerjewel @neechees @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako @spacebeyonce @skipppppy @beetledrink @fools-and-perverts2 @dailyquests @evillesbianvillain @wolfertinger666 @taffybuns @ankle-beez @sabertoothwalrus @meshugenist @isuggestforcefem @hotvampireadjacent @marxism-transgenderism

this fundraiser is extremely low on funds and has only received one donation in two days

Amina is a 28 year old mother of three: Nasser (8), Bara (4) and Adam (2). She’s fundraising in hopes of saving her children from this genocide and getting the money to feed them and give them a safe future. They’ve already been displaced five times and are struggling very badly to find food and water and everything they need to survive, and even when they find it it’s extremely expensive. It’s every parents worst nightmare to see their children suffering but not have the means to give them food and get them to safety. These children deserve to live healthy and safe, not have to hear the sounds of bombs every day. Amina is not asking for much, only whatever you can give to save her children. If you have any money to give today, please consider helping Amina or at least share this post so it can reach people who will. They only have €2,288 raised, which is only 5% of their goal and have only received €5 in the past three days. we can change that!

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[ghouljams]

I wanna bite Kyle’s thighs, stomach, biceps, and pecs. Simon may be the King of biting but I WILL come for that title when it comes to Kyle. I think Kyle would get my bitemark tattooed on him just cause he knows I’m a possessive bastard

Biting his thighs and biting his thighs and biting his thighs.

Kyle coming home from the gym, freshly pumped up and glowing, and you just can't keep your hands off him. He fully indulges you too, flexes so you can bite at his bicep, rolls up his shorts so you can nibble on his thighs, pushes the elastic waistband of said shorts down so you can suck his cock when you're done with all your chomping. No sense wasting the adrenaline of a good workout by heading straight to the shower when he's got you already on your knees, right?

[thechaoticcheese]

TW: Numbness, Mentions of Bruises, Yelling, Waterboarding, Torture, Lack of Care for the Reader

Wrongfully Accused - Chapter 4 - The Truth

Gaz had followed his lover and Price until the interrogation room. He watched the two enter and he stopped. His mind pounded with thoughts and his heart screaming at him that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He cursed underneath his breath before he turned back and stalked his way to the barracks. His mind was milling on who would frame the person he loved so much. There was just no way you could do something like this. And god damnit he was going to prove you innocent, or do his best trying. First things first, he has to see who knows. Soap was first. He was the closest, or at least his room was and he’d assumed that Ghost was probably still in the commons room, or somewhere farther away from Soap’s location. Gaz noticed his Scottish friend starting to make his way towards the interrogation rooms and he interacted with the Brit first. Soap seemed a bit disheveled, his brows furrowing and a concerned look plastered on his face. “Aye, Gaz, ya’know wha’ happened b’tween Price an’ Y/N? He took’em away in cuffs.” Soap sounded distressed, in a friend kind of way, worried about your safety and whatever conflict the Captain had with you. “Yeah. He suspects ‘em of bein’ the spy on the base.” Gaz said with slightly gritted teeth, the thought made his fist tighten. “I don’t believe ‘im.” “You don’t believe the Cap’n?” Soap sounded a tad surprised, knowing that Gaz and Price went on a majority of missions together when it was just a two man job. Though he also knew Gaz’s unwavering loyalty to people he heavily cared about. There must’ve been a war inside Gaz, but to Gaz, the answer was clear who was on top. “Not with this. Somethin’ is up. Imma talk to Ghost next. Can you get in contact with Laswell for me?” Gaz requested from Soap, who nodded. “Aye. You think Simon knows som’tin’?” The Scotsman asked curiously. “No tellin’. If not, I have a few more people to ask.” Gaz said, crossing his arms over his chest. His mind flashing back to the burn that was on your face. He shivered as he watched the nurse start to carve out your flesh and you just didn’t move. Soap’s gentle pat on his shoulder brought Gaz back, the mohawked man offering a comforting smile. “Good luck.” “You too.” With that, the two headed in opposite directions. Gaz had a look of determination on his face as he marched through the halls towards the commons room. His mind whirled with what he’d say when he saw Ghost. A lot of it was yelling, but he knew he’d have to approach his friend carefully. The thought of Ghost doing nothing hurt more than he thinks it should’ve. Maybe because the team was so tight knit, hearing that one of his good friends did nothing to help his significant other boiled his blood. When he reached the room, it looked like Ghost had just finished cleaning up the table. He was now standing by the sink, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the mug you were drinking from. His eyes locked onto it before they glanced over at Gaz, who was beelining it towards the taller male. “Gaz.” Ghost gruffly greeted the male before putting the cup gently in the sink. “I should hit you. Ya know.” Gaz greeted back with a growl, taking in a deep breath to calm down the anger that had been bubbling inside him as Ghost glanced a humorous look at the shorter male. While Gaz was known to jump to the extremes quite quickly, the glare Gaz was returning to the masked soldier told Ghost how much he was willing to back up the claim.

Ghost leaned onto the counter, hands gripping the edge as his fingers went into the sink, along with his gaze. It was as if he was ashamed for doing nothing, refusing to look Gaz in his eyes again, or at least for now. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “My significant other is being tortured by Price, got burned in front of you and you did nothing, and you’re ‘sorry’?” Gaz practically lectured the older male before he took another deep breath closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists. He so wanted to drill Ghost’s head into the sink with one blow, but he had to keep things professional, as professional it was to yell at your friend in the commons room where people could see the two of you arguing.

“Yeah.” Ghost replied, his monotonous voice not changing. This was the closest that Gaz was going to get to a proper apology and he knew it. Though the thought of Ghost doing nothing to stop Price didn’t stop itching at his brain. “Did… Did you even try?” Gaz spoke softer, a soft crack in his voice. He tried to figure out what Ghost did. The silence spoke volumes as Ghost recalled the incident from earlier this morning. Gaz had never seen the bloke wince, but he did, making the shorter soldier wonder if Ghost watched you get burned. “No… Price…” Ghost was trying to speak, trying to explain the situation, but anything past the ‘No’, Gaz didn’t register. “You watched Price burn my partner and dragged them away and you didn’t do anything!” Gaz was ready to explode, his voice indicating that he was already there at such a loud tone. “They were hurt and you couldn’t stand up to Price to get them any bloody treatment! Did his accusation of them being the spy really change your mind that much?!” He continued to spit fire at the tall man. Ghost’s hands gripped tighter against the counter and sink. Gaz swore if he gripped it any tighter it would break. The masked man sharply turned to Gaz and jabbed his finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. Ghost being quick wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it happened. “I do not have a soft spot for traitors. If they are proven innocent I will apologize. Until then they are the enemy.” Ghost growled. The two were ready to fight there in the commons. It was just up to who would swing first. “What ‘appened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Gaz growled back, the air thickening as he leaned into the masked man’s finger. He was challenging the taller bloke. Ghost’s brown eyes flashed in some sort of angry emotion before he sighed and moved away. While Gaz knew it wasn’t because Ghost wanted to back down, he knew that Ghost knew that it would be the best move at this point. If the taller man swung, the commons room would quickly turn into a battle ground, and that would just make everything worse. “Nothin’.” He replied in a quieter tone. Hearing the reply made Gaz chuckle softly, a quip at the tip of his tongue, but he reminded himself to stay calm. Or well, to cool down to not have a fight in the commons room. He already made Ghost get close to boiling over. “Fuckin’ right. Now follow it. I have Soap contactin’ Laswell. I need to ask Price who he got ‘is information from. Though I have a feelin’ it’s one of the blokes that came in with Y/N when they first star’ed to work here. You wanna see what you can find out?” Gaz suggested, his voice determined and calm, but that was a contrast to how he felt. He’d definitely would need a round with Ghost in the ring after all of this is over. He knew he would more than likely lose, but a chance to hone skills and hopefully make some blows, would be worth it.

“Yea. I’ll make ‘em talk.” Ghost responded standing up fully now. “Good. Imma go talk to Price then. Meet ya back here later.” Gaz said with a small smile, gently punching Ghost’s arm, “You awe me a round after this blows over.” Ghost only replied with a half-amused grunt before going to talk to the other three. Gaz felt good about himself, puffing out his chest slightly in a mini victory before pivoting back to the interrogation room. He paused at your barrack’s door. Gaz’s mind filled with apologies that he could only wish to tell you at the moment. Price had to be wrong in this situation. He usually wasn’t, but everyone slips up sometimes. Then he felt bad for lashing out at Ghost, knowing his real anger wasn't at him, nor Price, but the asshole who accused you of being the spy. Whoever it was had to be the one that’s sabotaging everything. He must’ve been there for quite some time because a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced over to see Price. He seemed slightly defeated and tired, but still angry. The blood on his gloves made Gaz want to shiver, but he held his stance. “Gaz. This… This is a ‘ard ask… But Imma need you in a few hours to ‘elp with interrogation’ Y/N-” “You fuckin’ crazy, mate?” Gaz interrupted his Captain, absolutely shocked at how easily Price let the obscene request leave his mouth. Though part of him noticed how Price winced, as if he had known what Gaz’s reaction would be. How long had the Captain been stewing on the question? “They’ll crack faster seeing that there’s no hope.” Price responded coldly. Then Gaz realized something. Price had completely put on his mission mask. One of those masks that isn’t seen, but it’s like a mental block so they could do their work. This was too hard for him to mentally handle and so he hid instead of asking questions. Gaz’s blood started to boil again, but he silently started to reason with himself. This would for sure hurt your relationship, but if you don’t do it, the others would do it just as roughly as Price. At least in this way he could make sure you don’t get it too rough and keep Price from dishing out harder punishments. Though he wasn’t going to agree without bargaining. “Aight… On two conditions.” Gaz said, Prices seemed a bit surprised. “One, you get yourself a nap, you look worse for wear. Two, you tell me who informed ya.” Price’s eyes narrowed at the Sergeant, clearly seeing the bargain, but being too tired to argue he nodded and huffed, “Nikolai… and fine. No more than two hours. In the meantime fetch me a bucket. When I wake up, fill it up with ice cold water.” Gaz nodded, and as soon as Price turned around and sulked to his room to sleep, he shivered. His mind raced. Nikolai? Nik? No… Nikolai wouldn’t… Was… Was it written? There was no way Nikolai could be the spy, everyone knew the Russian too well. Something was amiss.

Gaz quickly jogged to the commons room, or well, he tried. He almost sprinted in, looking for Soap or Ghost, his mind whirling. He spotted the two quietly conversing in the corner. Soap was in front of Ghost, pressed up against him, teasing the Brit with something or other. Gaz couldn’t entirely care what it was at this moment. He quickly headed over, watching as Ghost’s eyes went from Soap’s to his, nodding slightly in a silent greeting. Soap, seeing the nod, shifted away and turned towards Gaz with a big smile, blue eyes shining happily before he caught Gaz’s furrowed brows. The two men knew something went amiss in the plan, or unexpected at least. “We have a problem.” Gaz breathed out as soon as he had both of their attention. “The intel is from Nikolai.” “No fukin’ way.” Soap whispered out. “Yea… I’m wondering if someone forged his handwriting… As illegible as it is…” Gaz put forth his thoughts, Ghost nodded in agreement. “Do we know if he was ‘ere today, or recently?”

“No…” Ghost shook his head slightly, the mask above his eyes moving, no doubt furrowing his brows. “No, he couldn’t be. ‘im an’ Laswell have been on a mission the pas’ few days.” Soap interjected, his eyes narrowing, “We go’ a right proper rat.” He growled out.

Gaz’s fists tightened again, he wanted to find who it was and put them in the dirt now, “What else did you find out?” “Well, Laswell an’ Nik will be ova’ere as soon as they can… Mission complications… Laswell an’ Nik don’t think Y/N is the spy, though they did warn me that they’d lose all communication soon so we’ll have ta wait wit’ baited breath for their return.” “Fuck. Ghost?” “Only one I could find was Tree… Drunk out of ‘is mind. Not suitable for interrogation.” The Brit gruffly responded, anger hinted at the edge of his tone. “God damnit.” Gaz cursed under his breath, despite how much he craved to yell it. “So we have someone framing Nik, who in turn is framing Y/N, and until Nik comes back we’re sitting ducks…” “Aye…” Soap confirmed softly, offering a gently squeeze of Gaz’s shoulder. “We will ge’em out, don’ worry Gaz.” “Yeah but how soon?” He grumbled. Gaz wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel his fist hit whoever got you in this situation. For now, he had about an hour and a half to figure things out.

…

Now here he is. Gripping your hair and forcing you into the water that felt cold. He had iced it earlier, but then scrapped the ice and put some hotter water in so it wouldn’t be freezing like Price wanted. He wasn’t about to confront his Captain in these circumstances. He gently pulled your head out of the water as you gasped for air, spitting water out of your mouth as your lungs demanded air. “You gon’ talk now? Or are we gonna take it up a notch?” Price asked, his face getting close to yours as his eyes narrowed. You looked at Price through somewhat closed eyes. “Fuck off.” You manage to murmur out through your sore throat. “Dunk ‘em.”

…

It’s been weeks. You’re weaker than you’ve ever felt in your life. Between being beaten and starved, your will to even consider forgiving anyone on 141 was slipping. The last thread that you held onto tightly was Gaz’s. You wrapped his thread around your hand tightly until it started to cut your fingers, your blood making the thread slippery, each drop from when he’d hurt you. Eventually. He did stop coming. Your grip on his thread was slowly loosening. It had been 21 days, 3 weeks, since you were brought here. You’ve gone numb to so many things, Price’s words, the cold cement, the aches and pains in your body. The way Gaz would sneak you small rations. It hurt you. Having to be secretly fed and begging every single time Gaz had to leave you to not go.

Three weeks of being interrogated to the point that it didn’t matter what happened after this. You were resigning. You wouldn’t sue, though the thought has crossed your mind multiple times. Worst part is, you found who it was. Price just wouldn’t believe you. By day 15, you shut up. Not a word had left your mouth for 6 days. Gaz had been gone for a day and that’s when you found out. It was Quail. Fucking Tree. He let you in on all of his little secrets as he toyed with you, adding to the bruises that decorated your skin as he tried to ‘beat the information’ out of you. You hope he’d burn in hell. You now knew, or well, used to know what was happening. He planted a letter for Price, claiming it to be Nik, but due to the secrecy had to use newspaper clippings, and it was because he and Laswell found sensitive information on their mission about said spy. They just sent Tree to collect it after they sent it to a burner address that everyone knew of, it was just his day to check it. And Price fell for the bait. You couldn’t say a damn thing about their plans though. If you did, you’d be the spy, but if you didn’t, you’d be a traitor after being proven innocent. It fits in your mind, a traitor in a group of traitors.

Soon, someone gripped by your hair, your eyes focusing on the oh so familiar boots of your beloved Captain. Your weak body was limp as Price pulled you from the corner he left you in just hours before, dragging your body across the floor. He then set you up in the chair in the center of the room. “I got a real treat for ya later. Someone’s coming to visit.” Price growled out, looking into your defeated eyes, “You best hope they don’t keep this up.”

You refused to respond. He huffed, gripping the chair and staring into you with hatred, “You’ve been a thorn in my side these past few weeks.If you weren’t so damn important, you would be dead by now” The words were supposed to phase you. They did, but only a little, mainly because being dead sounded like a nice relief. Seeing how ineffective his words were, he growled, winding his arm back to punch you square in the jaw before the door busted open, causing both you and Price to look at the open door that swung open with so much force that it bounced off of the wall it hit. “Enough, John.” Laswell’s voice loudly cracked through the room, seeing Laswell holding Tree by his hair and wrist. “We’ve got the actual traitor, release them.” Your heart fluttered, seeing Nikolai and Gaz right behind her, as if two guards guiding someone, who didn’t need to be guarded mind you, and their dangerous captive. Though, you were only glad to see Nikolai and Laswell. Your heart couldn’t decide if Gaz earned that right in the fuzziness in your chest after everything. After all, your limp hand barely held the string.

Price’s eyes widened, stepping away as his mind turned. You could tell that he was processing the information as Laswell pushed Tree inside the room, Gaz and Nikolai both following immediately. Nik went straight for Price, consoling the man and quickly ushering out of the room. His voice was too soft for you to pick up any semblance of words, that, and you were barely paying attention. You knew Price’s world must’ve been rocked considering what Tree had already told you. You could barely register Gaz taking off your cuffs and tightening around the traitorous male’s wrist, not caring if he complained that it was too tight.

Good. You sickly thought as you heard the clicking of the cuffs.

Gaz brought you up off of the chair, wrapping your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to let you walk, but your body refused. Your mind was still numb to everything, trying to figure out if it could even walk. When you crumbled towards the floor, Gaz scooped you up in his arms. Gaz’s soft and sweet voice softly murmuring apologies. How he tried to get there sooner, but they were waiting on Nikolai and Laswell, but they had to be rescued after weeks of no contact. Price was stuck here and just took his anger out on you since he assumed you were a part of it. You didn’t respond. Part of you didn’t believe him.

The look of dread was sinking into Gaz as he made glances down to your body. While Price didn’t break anything, he dislocated so many things, only relocating them when he got pissed enough. It felt like some might’ve been broken then, but you weren’t sure. Gaz had sped up his walk as you barely recognize Soap’s worried blue eyes as Gaz bulldozed past the Scot.

The amount of care you felt for the world around you was non-existence and it worried Gaz. Every fiber of his being convinced that he was way too late, but he’d try. He’d try so damn hard to get his little angel back.

You heard words exchanged between a different medic than the one before and Gaz. Though as soon as your body felt the softer feeling of the cot, you passed out. Welcoming any softer feeling of an object compared to the cold feeling of the concrete you’d spent the previous nights on. When you woke up, you were covered in bandaids, wrappings, and a few splints on your fingers. You glanced down to see an IV in your arm, and, moving past your better judgement, you ripped it out with nothing more than a soft grunt. It alerted the new medic who swiftly came over, mumbling to themself as you stood up on shaky legs. “Hey! Hey! Sit back down. You need to rest.” He instructed, gently trying to keep you on the bed, but you refused. You still had strength in your body, more than you realized. Perhaps it was just your mental will power that was dead. “No…” Your raspy voice spoke, startling the medic. “I want to return to my room.” He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “If you let me and my colleagues check in on you every hour on the hour… F-Fine.” You knew this wasn’t allowed, but the lacking care in your body showed, cause the medic seemed absolutely scared shitless by your gaze. You must’ve given him one hell of a glare.

He helped you to your room, always there for your stumbles as you partly wondered where the hell Gaz was. You would’ve sworn he’d be by your side after all of this, but he wasn’t there when you woke. The question soon answered itself as the medic flicked on the light to your room. Your bed was covered with new bedding, stuffed animals, flowers, pillows, anything and everything a lover could do to comfy up the military beds. Though no Gaz. Was he hoping to do a big reveal once you were better? It didn’t matter now. The surprise was ruined and you couldn’t care how nice it looked. Not like you’d choose to remember.

The scene in front of you didn’t affect the deadness in your heart. You just wanted to sleep somewhere more familiar than the medical bay. You stumbled over with the medic’s help. He was about to help you to the side of the bed before you took your arm and wiped off as much as you could, dumping a good chunk of it onto the floor. The only thing that remained was a brown stuffed teddy bear and the new pillows. The teddy bear was holding a heart that you only noticed after grabbing it to huck it onto the ground. You assumed that what it said on the heart was something cheap, before you paused. You noticed how the message was hand-sewn into a heart, that was a bit-lopsided, but also hand made. ‘To my Angel. You will forever be in my heart. No matter where we are.’ It read. Was it still sappy? Sewn in a bit sloppily? Absolutely, but you settled into bed with it. The stuffed bear held tightly against your chest as the medic carefully tucked you in.

“See you in an hour.” He said softly, carefully nudging the gifts on the ground towards the wall to be picked up later, before turning off the light to the room and leaving you alone. The darkness made your mind scream in fear, but the tiredness in your body gagged it as you finally closed your eyes to sleep against the mattress that felt so soft. Your arms had a death grip on the teddy bear. Its soft fur brushed against the bandages on your arms and chest. You wish you could feel how soft its fur was, but your body was being held together by the medical fabric. Soon, you were able to drift off to sleep with a soft warmness towards Gaz once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed glances at word count 4,027 words of this! I was debating on putting it in two parts, but.... Nah. You guys just get one BIG chapter. Y'all get two more chapters of angst and fluff until it ends. Not sure when it'll be posted cause my mind be everywhere lol. Inspire by this post.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Lover and Love

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

CW: Discussion of suicide and ideation

You had a friend that had three cats. Well, she said she had three cats. You had only ever met two of them, her third little floof lived in the basement bathroom. Phoebe, as she was called, needed a lot of space and appreciated a warm sunbeam that she didn’t have to share. Simon reminded you a lot of Phoebe.

He had taken the room closest to the back, poised best for dusk light to illuminate his space. Hiding away became, or maybe had always been, a strong tendency when he got overwhelmed. The poly-q, by unspoken agreement, would take turns visiting with him in his room when he tried to self-isolate.

Something had happened on their last job. No one would tell you about it but John moved with a slowness that hadn’t been there when he had left. Simon disappeared after a hello kiss and hadn’t been seen since. That was yesterday.

Worrying over your guys had become as intrinsic as breathing. You knew that by Johnny spending the night in your bed, Simon had asked for space. Flicking on the kettle you readied a mug for Simon. Tea steeped with milk and sugar added, you went in search of him.

Simon sat mired in memories. Christmas was coming again, and they had nearly lost John on their last mission. The near miss boiled up in his mind until every other near miss, and person he’d lost ringed him like ghosts with reprimand and disgust on their faces.

Lost to the dregs of death in his mind Simon did not hear you come in.

Simon’s room always smelled of him and faintly of the pillow spray Kyle had bought him a few months back. He stared into the middle distance, somewhere you couldn’t reach or follow. Setting his mug on the nightstand you climb onto the bed. His back is against the headboard with his legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. You match his positioning, resting your knees against his shins.

In an offhanded comment, Simon once mentioned he thought he might develop arthritis in his hands with how badly they could ache sometimes. Thinking over that comment now you lift one of his hands and begin to gently massaging it. The limb is heavy without his will behind it.

Humming to yourself you work up his hand, into his wrist, and over part of his forearm before gently setting it back and repeating the process with his second hand. Flexion from his fingers as you work on his wrist warns you that he has joined you in the room.

“Almost done, can you stay relaxed for me, Simon?” Keeping your focus on his arm you work at the muscles under your fingers.

By way of an answer, he lets a deep breath slip out through his nose and shifts his head to watch you better. Both of you enjoy the quiet presence of the other. When you set his hand down in his lap and look at his face tears rim his eyes.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

His lip quivers the barest hint as he asks, “Lay with me?”

Pushing your hands into the mattress you shift to one side, stretching out as you wait for Simon to get settled. It takes some maneuvering but soon enough you are both laid out comfortably. Simon curls behind you, knees tucked tight to yours and his bicep cushioning your head. You interlace fingers with the hand draped over your waist.

“Do you remember,” he started slowly. “The day you came through the ceiling?”

The snort is involuntary. “Yes. I remember going through the floor and landing on your lap after I gave you a bloody nose.”

Simon laughs through his nose before sobering.

“I was contemplating suicide that day.”

His arms tighten around as if he was expecting you to try and roll over and look at him. You tried to move to look at him anyway.

“Can’t keep telling you if you look at me,” he murmurs, shame lacing his words.

That settles you, a deep shuddering breath and you let the tension melt back into your bones.

“Contemplating or planning?” You question him carefully.

“Contemplating, but had you not come through the ceiling when you did it might have turned into an executed plan.”

You take a slow, deep breath ensuring that your ribs expand fully before replying.

“Are you feeling that way again?” Probing gently with your words.

He pulls you closer even as his head shakes back and forth.

“No, no, nothing like that. The holidays are getting closer and it brings a lot of bad to the surface. With nearly losing John, the melancholy, it hit a bit harder than normal.”

“We all love you, Simon. You don’t have to banish yourself to the demons and ghosts to deal with your pain. Any, all of us would drop anything to come and fight them back with you,” you say tearfully. Blinking rapidly a few tears land on Simon’s arm beneath your head.

“I know. Sometimes…sometimes I forget how loved I am. I don’t deserve it.” He whispers this as if you don’t know this is how he thinks of himself.

A knock at the door draws both your gazes to it as Johnny appears. The softest of smiles plays at his lips as he looks over you and Simon.

“Got room for a third?”

“Always room for you Johnny,” you wipe your eyes as you sit up and scoot to allow for room.

Simon shifted to his back, you settling on one shoulder and Johnny on the other. Interlacing fingers over Simon’s stomach you challenge Johnny to a thumb war. He wins, again and again, but you laugh each time.

The mug of tea had gone cold by the time you remembered to tell Simon about it. He thanked you for it anyway and pressed a kiss to your forehead, saying all his thanks in that single point of connection.

“Are you feeling better Simon?”

“Yeah, I think all I needed was some time with my lover and my love.”

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[lay-z]

🎀 Day 16 – Driving home for Christmas

A continuation of 🍷 Day 8 – Dinner time, which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: When Christmas comes around again, it’s Kyle this time around who asks his Captain if he can come over for dinner.

Pairing: husband!John Price x wife!Reader x Kyle Gaz Garrick Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | Kyle's POV; curvy!pregnant!Reader (some physical descriptions); dom!Price; hurt/comfort; breeding kink; pregnant sex/pregnancy kink; objectification; threesome; unprotected sex; choking; fluff/aftercare

Word count: 3.2k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Kyle feels like he’s having a very vivid déjà-vu. 

When he raises his fist and knocks on the heavy cedar wood door, flashbacks of last year’s Christmas Eve are triggered and playing in front of his inner eye as he glances up at the Christmas lights and decorations adorning Price's large house.  

Flashbacks and memories that leave his face burning despite the biting cold nipping at his skin and, admittedly, his cock stirring hotly in his chic beige pants. 

He hasn’t seen you since the summer, roughly five months ago, when Price had invited the team and Laswell for a barbecue in his backyard. The moment you'd stolen him away for a quick make out session in the laundry room after the Captain, standing by the grill, had given his blessing with a curt nod, was the last time someone else had touched him intimately.  

And now, Kyle still catches himself having a desperate wank to the phantom feeling of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing prick and your wonderful lips against  his sensitive neck, whispering sweet praises into his ear like you did way back in the laundry room in your perfect house all while your husband (and his boss) knew what was happening. And every time, Kyle spills his load all over his own calloused knuckles with a pathetic whine, wishing they were yours instead.

Oh, bloody fucking hell, he’s such a goner for you. 

His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth, swallowing thickly; dark eyes zeroed in on the front door while his other fist tightens around the expensive bottle of red wine he brought for you. 

Kyle checks the time on his Rolex. 17:56 p.m., punctual as always. 

He tugs on his winter coat before adjusting the front of his pants once more; uncomfortable to stand in front of the threshold of another man’s house, obviously bricked up for said man’s wife before he even gets the chance to say his greetings. 

When the door opens eventually, Kyle’s heart is already thudding harshly against his ribcage with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, though it stutters briefly when he is greeted by Captain Price’s mug instead of yours. 

“Garrick,” the older man greets curtly, steel blue eyes flickering to glance past the Sergeant briefly.

And Kyle knows that look too well, knows his Captain is being extra vigilant for some reason, sweeping the perimeter, even though it’s his own estate and if someone else were to be around, his security system would surely pick up on it. Still, due to their jobs and shared experiences, both men know to never get too comfortable.

Eventually, Price opens the front door wider and steps aside in a non-verbal invitation, “Good to see you, Sergeant.” 

“Thank you, sir. Likewise,” Kyle replies, straightening his shoulders as he walks into the entry hallway past his Captain, who immediately closes and locks the front door behind them once more. 

The house smells heavenly, like freshly baked cookies, spices and some kind of roasted meat, mixed with the natural smells of your home. It's a concoction of scents that nearly leaves Kyle feeling both nostalgic and yearning. 

“Bird’s in the living room, lad,” Price says with his usual gruffness yet underlying care as Kyle hangs up his coat on the vintage rack. “I know she’s been looking forward to seeing you again.” 

And Kyle has been looking forward to see you, too. More than he’s comfortable to admit. 

“Here,” Kyle says, offering the bottle of red wine for the other man to take with his chest puffed out proudly, because he remembered that like a good, obedient soldier would. “You told me she prefers red.”  

He watches in confusion as his Captain’s eyes crinkle in the corners, crow’s feet appearing as he looks at the bottle in the Sergeant's hands in what can only be described as amusement before accepting it eventually with a gruff chuckle and a firm clap on the younger man's shoulder. 

“Aye, lad, that’s very thoughtful of ya.” 

Kyle does find you in the living room, wearing a tight black knitted dress, curled up in the loveseat in the corner next to the old bookshelf that looks quite Cold War-esque and the large, classically decorated Christmas tree, with a pale blue hardcover book in your lap and a steaming cuppa on the small side table next to the sofa. 

Even without the fairy lights illuminating you from behind, you look radiant, like you’re glowing from the inside out, and something in his heart aches, deep behind his chest – something dangerous and exhilarating that takes his breath away momentarily. 

Once you notice the familiar, young man standing frozen in place in the open doorway to the living room, your eyes light up, a breath-taking smile spreading on your lips. “Hello, soldier,” you chirp and bookmark the page you’re on before closing the book.  

“Hello, princess.” He replies softly, cheeks heating up even more at the sound of your voice greeting him so happily.

And while Kyle tries and fails to catch the cover and title of the book as you put it aside, he does notice the way you untuck your tight-clad legs from under yourself with a soft groan before heaving yourself up and out of the loveseat with a sudden struggle which he doesn’t quite understand. 

His brows furrow in concern, attentive eyes scanning your body as you adjust your dress around your shoulders. “How have you been?” He asks, taking a few measured steps towards you. 

“Oh,” you giggle softly, eyes twinkling with mirth and that familiar gentleness as you watch Kyle approach, “I’ve been… well.” 

Then, you make a tiny gesture that makes everything click into place for the Sergeant at once. You caress the top of your belly lovingly while supporting it with the other, and suddenly, Kyle notices the prominent bump that was initially concealed by the black fabric of your dress and the veil of his metaphorical rose-coloured glasses. 

His heart nearly stops in his chest, auburn eyes widening comically and he stops dead in his tracks while something strange starts happening in his brain, like its most primal and savage parts are being stimulated for the first time in his life.

“Congratulations,” Kyle manages to say, cracking a smile, though his voice is too rough, too breathless for his own liking. “You look lovely, sweetheart.” Breathtakingly beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. He could go on, but chooses not to.

You’re pregnant. Pregnant. Very, very pregnant, and fertile.  

And it is all Kyle can focus on for the rest of the evening. He’s embarrassingly hard during dinner, while he watches his rough and tough, stoic Captain dote on you like the loving husband he is. Everything makes so much sense now, too; why Price had taken more leave in the past couple of months than he ever has in his whole bloody career, giving up more responsibilities to Ghost, his second-in-command, and being even more secretive and guarded about his personal life. 

The longer he stays and is forced to watch the happy couple, the more envious he becomes.

It’s a mean feeling that takes root in his heart, poisoning it slowly like the black plague; squeezing and mocking all while he can simply blame himself, because he was the one who’d asked to come over this time.

He wasn’t invited which makes him he’s an intruder, and it’s starting to show in the way Price keeps whispering sweet nothing’s into your ear while he sits next to you on the loveseat in the living room, after moving back there once dinner was finished and the table was cleared. Now, Kyle can only watch how his Captain coddles his gorgeous wife; kissing your temple and rubbing his big hand over the swell of your pregnant belly possessively, as if his Sergeant isn’t currently sitting in the armchair right across from you.

Kyle realizes begrudgingly and with a stabbing ache in his heart that the times, when his Captain would let him have a small taste of heaven, of you, are over. It’s too sudden, too soul-crushing, like a band aid ripped away too swiftly and taking bits of hair and scabs with it, though it should have been foreseeable from the beginning.

It wasn’t supposed to last, anyway.

His heart clenches painfully as he makes the rash decision to simply slip away, leave you two be while he will go on his merry way to drown his sorrows and loneliness in some cheap liquor. And when Kyle catches the sound of your soft giggles once more, elicited by Price who nuzzles into your neck affectionately in a way that has Kyle’s cock chuffing even worse, his legs start developing a mind of their own and he stands up from his seat at once.

Of course, it only catches their attention and an awkward silence ensues. 

The Sergeant clears his dry throat, shifting on his feet uncharacteristically insecure. “I should head out,” he announces, glancing down at his expensive watch. It’s barely past 8 p.m. “–while I can still drive.” He adds with a forced chuckle. Kyle made the conscious decision not to drink as much as last year in case you–No, no he really shouldn’t go there. 

However, before Kyle can say his thanks and bid his goodbyes, you and Price share a look that the younger man has seen before, and then the Captain gets out of the loveseat with an old-manly grunt.  

“Nonsense, Garrick,” he objects gruffly, making a dismissive hand gesture as he walks past Kyle over to his vintage liquor cabinet. “We’re having another drink.” 

Then, there is the distinct sound of clinking glasses, the unscrewing of a bottle and the gluck gluck gluck of liquid as said glasses are filled while Kyle furrows his brows, glancing over his shoulder at his Captain’s broad back before his eyes shift back over to you, sitting oh so prettily as you blink up at him with your beautifully bright doe-eyes and another tooth-achingly sweet smile before you shift and go on to push yourself up from your seat. 

And right when Kyle wants to rush to your aid, Price stops him by clasping a hand over his broad shoulder, offering a glass full of strong, amber liquor as he leans in to murmur into Kyle’s ear in a way that makes his skin pebble with goose bumps: “Isn’t she gorgeous, lad?”

Yes, yes, you’re gorgeous. Bloody perfect.

Especially now, sprawled out on your marital bed in the master bedroom while Kyle watches you get eaten out by your husband as if the latter is feasting on his last meal.

Your radiant body arches and stretches on the mattress; all soft lines and feminine curves while your round baby bump keeps drawing his gaze in like the most beautiful sight Kyle has ever been allowed to see. Your breasts are larger; your nipples and areolas a shade darker in contrasts to your glowing skin, and he can’t wait to trail his fingertips along the faint stretch marks along your hips and up your belly. It’s mesmerising. You are mesmerising, absolutely breath-taking.

The whole situation feels much more intimate than the first time last year, too, when the Captain had talked you into fucking the stress and sadness out of his Sergeant’s system, and then the stolen moments of sweet passion that had followed in between whenever he was lucky enough to see you. Always just you and Kyle while Price had given his blessings upfront. Now, though, now the latter is actively participating, and Kyle is trying to figure out his role in this. Less an intruder, but still not wholly part of it all, he figures.

The cries of pleasure which your husband is eliciting from you, eventually pull Kyle out of his stupor and he watches as you shudder and tremble with another intense climax before you mewl and paw at Price’s shoulders with panting breaths, trying to either nudge him away or get him even closer, and the latter pushes himself up on his elbows before sitting back on his haunches, still fully clothed while Kyle was ordered to strip down to his underwear.

“Please–” You whimper and hiccup breathlessly in a way that makes Kyle wince when his cock throbs and twitches painfully in his boxer briefs.

Price chuckles as he licks your arousal from his lips before bringing his hand up to wipe at his mouth. “Use your words, m’love. We’ve already been through this so many times, no?”

You nod eagerly as you swallow thickly, and Kyle can see the gloss of tears in your eyes. He wants to kiss them away, needs to keep overstimulating you all the same to coax more of those saccharine sounds from you, determined to make more memories he can feed on to get him through another year, most likely longer (perhaps forever), of withdrawal from you.

“Garrick,” Price barks and makes a sharp gesture with his hand before scooting away from between your legs, creating more space. “You’re going to fuck my pregnant wife now.”

Kyle’s stomach drops into an open pit for a split second, though the clear order given by his superior does make his heart rate exhilarate and his cock leak even worse in his underwear. His eyes flicker nervously between Price and you, until you reach your hand out to him with half-lidded eyes, a sweet smile and small nod.

And it’s all the encouragement Kyle needs, before he answers with a curt, determined: “Yes, sir.”

However, when Kyle reaches for the condom he’d placed on the nightstand buoyantly, Price clicks his tongue in disdain. “No need for that, lad,” he assures him, “not this time.”

Then, you chime in so sweetly, telling him that it’s okay, that you want to feel him without any barrier, and Kyle’s brain blanks as he positions himself on his knees between your legs; caressing and groping your supple thighs, a full-body shudder wrecking through him at the first touch of your skin after months of being deprived of it.

He grasps his cock at the base, drags his weeping cockhead through your pretty, glistening folds, coating his length in your syrupy slick while gripping your hip with his other hand before guiding his thick tip to your entrance and pushing in slowly, feeling your velvety walls clench and squeeze around him while he sinks his cock deeper, and then, all the air rushes from his lungs with a drawn-out, breathless groan as Kyle finally comes home again.

“That’s it.” Price’s voice coos gruffly, and Kyle can feel the mattress shift behind him before warm, calloused palms trail along his toned sides and settling on his waist with a tight hold, and his dark eyes widen in surprise as he stares down at you, gorgeously spread open and taking his cock like you were made for him, too.

This definitely never happened before, Price joining in like this, but when you continue to mewl for more while nudging the heel of your bare foot into Kyle’s backside urgently, he’s too far gone to think properly; all reason and restraint melting away like candle wax, leaving nothing but pleasure rather than the pain he’d endured for the past year.

“She feels incredible, doesn’t she, Sergeant?”

It’s a rhetorical question, because Kyle is already gritting his teeth, muscles coiling, trying not to cum already as he bottoms out inside your gummy channel. You do feel different. Hotter, slicker, sweeter, utterly intoxicating, and Kyle doesn’t know if it’s the fact he’s not wearing protection or if it’s your pregnancy making your pussy even more addictive.

He nods anyway, holding eye-contact with you. “Yes, s-sir. Fuck–!”

And then, Price pushes Kyle’s hips forward at once, thrusting the younger man’s cock deeper into your fluttering cunt, making you and the Sergeant moan and yelp obscenely in unison while your plump tits jiggle tantalisingly. “Then fuck her properly, Sergeant. She needs it… and so do you.” He growls into Kyle’s ear; rough beard scratching over heated, sensitive skin.

Price tells Kyle to fuck you, but it’s obviously the Captain who’s setting the pace here; guiding and pushing his Sergeant’s hips as the latter fucks you desperately yet carefully while his own clothed and throbbing cock ruts against the younger man’s bare, plump ass.

Kyle can barely hold himself together after months of loneliness and touch-starvation, and the absolute overwhelming feeling of being buried inside you now, hearing you moan and cry out his name while the full weight of his Captain’s powerful body is pressed flush against him; he’s heating up, front to back, sweat trickling down his neck as one of Price’s mammoth hands snakes up his chest, squeezing his pec harshly before curling around Kyle’s throat, putting pressure on his Adam’s apple. 

“Oh, fuck, – Cap–” Kyle gasps and pants, and his head lolls back against Price’s broad shoulder, short-circuiting with new sensations while his dark lashes flutter; hips still grinding deeply and fast-paced into your dripping cunt until your gummy walls convulse and squeeze him rhythmically as your climax seizes you, making you cry out in ecstasy in a way Kyle hasn’t witnessed before while his own pleasure boils over, and he grips you feverishly with both hands, long fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while Price’s hot breath ghosts over his sweat-slicked skin.

“That’s it, Gaz,” he murmurs, squeezing Kyle’s throat tighter and cutting off more of his airflow, “–fill her up, lad. Breed her good.” 

And Kyle does as he’s ordered; eyes rolling back into his skull, crying out despite the pressure around his neck as his cock pulses and shoots several thick ropes of cum into your eager cunt; vision blurring as he comes harder than he has in what feels like forever.

Much to his surprise, once his mind has come off its post-orgasmic high, the aftermath isn’t as strange as Kyle anticipated as soon as Price had gotten involved.

His eyes are closed, his cheek resting above your naked chest, mindful to not put any unnecessary pressure on your sore breasts, while he listens to your steady heartbeat, his warm palm resting on your baby bump, stroking his thumb over your skin absentmindedly.

“Did it kick yet?” Kyle asks curiously, his voice slurred with exhaustion. “The uh… baby, I mean.”

“Yes,” you answer, laughing softly as you continue to scratch your fingernails along the curve of Kyle’s shoulder blades, feeling his skin pebble with gooseflesh. “I think he’s sleeping now after all the commotion,” you giggle, “– just like his daddy.”

As if on cue, Price’s snore cuts through the tranquillity, curled around you on your other side protectively. Kyle snorts softly before letting out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He's always dreamed of having a boy.

[masonmace]

Why does it take me eons to write porn 😊

Anyways - head canons on 141 boys and how they EAT YA PRIVATES

cw: cunnilingus, oral (m! And f! Receiving), rimming, fingering, spit, throat fuck, m!reader and f!reader

Order: afab then amab

Price

Captain's a hungry man. A hungry, noisy man. Doesn't matter if he's got you on your back or ass up, he's eating. Face buried between your legs as he eats your pretty cunt. Slurping and groaning against your clit. Even better when you squeeze your thighs around his head. He doesn't stop, he just growls and mouth breathes between those ferocious sucks on your lower lips. Thick tongue lolling out and licking at your hole before pressing a meaty finger in.

Sucking your dick? Shit, this man glares up in your eyes and sucks. He likes to focus at the tip and give head more than he does deep throat. Hand at the base and his lips around the tip. Cradling the under side with his tongue and trying to suck your soul out. He surely doesn't forget your hole, though, thick hand holding one thigh down as he laps at your rim and sucks. Teasing you with a pointed tongue before he sucks his way back up your taint and goes back to your poor, weeping cock.

Ghost

He's a little more gentle with you. Slowly and surely suckling your clit, licking along your cunt before latching on. His eyes catching your face. Hands running up and down your waist. People say he's rough and ruthless, but he handles you so sweetly and gently. Slowly putting two fingers into you and ever so sweetly twisting them in and out of you, curling into that sweet, spongy little spot. His mouth taking turns giving slow laps at your clit and circling it.

He's a little more rough with your cock. Jaw loose but lips tight as he takes you all the way. Same thing - one hand holding your thighs open, the other fucking his fingers into you at the same pace he sucks. His eyes nailed to your face and the way it twists up, marred lips treating your dick so, so very sweetly. Tongue curled along the underside and cheeks hallowed. MH.

Soap

Wild animal. He's moaning and sucking and spitting. Pulling back to spit onto your cunt before diving his face right back in. A grin on his face as he furiously flicks his tongue onto your swollen clit. Face nuzzling between your legs as he plunges his tongue in and out of you. Giving an actual growl as he slots his fingers in after. He knows how to make you squirt, and he definitely does utilize it. Sometimes he drinks it up like a hungry dog, other times he pulls back, laughing boastfully and swiping his hand back and forth on your clit, giving it little smacks and watching you squirt all over his dick and thighs.

Now, with your cock? Throat goat. He's much subbier with men. As messy as with women though. Spitting hard on your cock and diving back down. His back all arched to show off his back end. Choking and gagging on your member, his eyes watery and half rolled back. Pulling up and jerking you off hard and fast, showing off the down-spout of spit connecting your cock to his used mouth. He loves making you cum across his face. Eyes closed and tongue lolled out as you rope out your seed. Making you see the way it catches in his eyelashes and drips down his face.

Gaz

PLEASE SIT ON HIS FACE

Definitely more sub-aligned. Gaz wraps his arms around your hips and keeps you on his face. Eating you out like his life depends on it. He does what he knows you like best. He's a mix of Price and Ghost. A medium pace between sucking and tongue fucking you. Eats you slow then fast and faster and then moans and slows down. Switching between em and whining pretty for you. Slotting his tongue into your cunny and letting you cum on his face - and just so-eagerly waiting for it to be on his needy cock.

Sucks NICE AND GOOOD deep throating you and keeping his head down on him. Really likes to be face-fucked, too. His plump lips so perfect. Sucking on his way up and choking his way down. His eyes all watery and stuck on your face as he works you to orgasm. (Learned well from his Captain).

Roach

Likes to eat you out from the back. Definitely fucks with rimming. While not doing so, he's slurping. Like Price but more rough and like that of a starved man. His eyes closed in bliss and eyebrows furrowed together. His hands groping the fat of yours thighs, massaging your back end and sucking at your hole. Tucking his tongue into your hole and thrusting before licking up to your rim and focusing there for only a little before going back to sucking on your clit until you cum.

Sucking dick? Sixty nine. He's on top, thrusting into your mouth. Your thighs held up under his arms as he goes crazy on your cock. Sucking down and up. His hand between your legs and fingering you open as he gives you some of the sloppiest head you can receive

[itsnotjulia]

Looking for a fanfic about task force 141 x plus-size!reader

Hi, I’m trying to find a fanfic about Call of Duty. In the scene, there’s a plus-size woman at a bar with her friends. Her friends bring up the topic of what they’d do if someone tried to kidnap them, and they all joke about it. At some point, the 141 team joins in on the conversation and adds their own comments about it.

Later, when the reader is leaving the bar to head home, she gets ambushed and cornered in an alley—but it’s actually the 141 team who is there to kidnap her.

I’m not sure if I explained the story clearly, but if this sounds familiar to anyone, please let me know! I’d really love to find it.