#Kyle Gaz Garrick x reader

[beloveds-embrace]

(Lavender Marriage au: Poly 141 x married reader where they don’t know you and your gay bestfriend married just for the Benefits and they see your husband/bestfriend “cheating” on you)

Your parents are traditional and are pressing you for marriage. Your bestfriend, on the other hand, is gay and in a secret relationship and the heir of a successful family business, but his parents are homophobic.

In hindsight, it’s extremely easy for the both of you to decide to get married and move far away, buying a nice plot of land and a big enough house to have rooms for you, for your husband and his boyfriend, and for you and your husband for whenever the parents decide to visit.

Honestly, the townspeople suck; you don’t trust any of them not to snitch or to not be spies, so unfortunately you keep yourself happy with toys you order with your happy bestfriend’s money and flash that ring on your finger often enough no one ever questions your husband’s many, many trips.

You don’t mind much; a big, comfy house where you have everything you could want, no worried, far away from your parents. All you have to do is keep up the pretense of being a dutiful, happy wife, and everything will be well.

Until the abandoned house next to yours is bought by four of the most handsome military men you think you’ve ever seen. You don’t know they’ve bought it and are renovating it themselves until Kyle comes over to ask for a few glasses of water-

“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am. We’ve just begun renovations and the plumbing’s not fixed it.”

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to call him handsome while you fetch him some icy cold water.

The other men are just as handsome too- calling you Ma’am, bonnie, sweetheart in those sexy british and scottish accents. Too bad, they are very respectful. For once, that ring on your finger is getting in your way.

So unfortunately, you resign yourself to waving to them whenever you see them, and spying on them from your porch, lemonade in hand and ogling those handy muscles glistening from sweat and working hard.

(They like you, too. So much. You look fucking gorgeous to them, all pretty sundresses and delicate jewelry and so sweetly fussing over them while they work, bringing them cookies and sandwiches and drinks and your pretty eyes just glancing at them through your lashes. You make the renovations so much harder because they have to take breaks.

But you are taken, the ring a proof of that, and you seem quite content with your life. They meet your husband too and for all that they wish he wasn’t there, they can see that you two are happy.

Until they see your husband kissing another man. In your home. Cheating on you.

And suddenly, they know they have a chance.)

[quarterlifekitty]

Weaknesses

Note: this is just a silly headcanon! Please don’t take it too seriously!

Gaz: goth/spiritual bitches. I said it. The amount of secondhand knowledge he has about tarot reading is getting weird. And don’t get him started on dark makeup and piercings.

Soap: cozy bitches. I think he’s gotten so much pornrot in his brain that his interests have gone from sexy outfits and circled back to full, comfortable coverage. Man loves you in the big t shirt, hoodie, sweats, blankets. One of his like top 5 favorite kinds of sex is the early morning quickie, so he’s like pavlov’d himself into getting hard for sleep clothes.

Simon: Girls that leave trails. He likes when you leave a lot of evidence of your presence in his life. Text messages, notes, jewelry and clothes you forget in his car and in his flat. He likes that it’s like there’s a constant tether, like the line separating your lives keeps getting blurry with all the crossover.

Price: Girls that cook. Like you don’t have to even be remotely good at it, if you made it for him, he’s not leaving a speck behind. You could feed this man a plain, boiled chicken breast and he’d still be so so happy. Something something joke about British cuisine.

König: clingy girls. He’s got that anxiety, he won’t always initiate contact, so he melts around anyone who touches him willingly and without prompting (bar is in the ground for him ok). He will never ever complain about you clinging to his arm, playing with his hands, sitting in his lap. That goes for emotionally clingy bitches too. You know he has to physically hold back from quadruple texting you (failed on holding back the first 2 times) so if you’re messaging him a lot?? Marriage.

[ghostsforghosts]

The 141 boys with a partner who isn't what people expect. Because they love you regardless of how you are, damn what society thinks.

You're not conventionally attractive? Beauty is subjective and Soap is happily kissing each and every part of yourself that you are insecure about. He will tell you all of the ways you make him feral for you.

You're not skinny/not physically fit? Gaz loves the extra fat you have, loves to grip your love handles when you two are having sex. He loves your curves and how your body is unique to you.

You're not a woman (could be a man or nonbinary)? Price doesn't give a shit about what society says about him for dating someone who is not a woman. Love is love and he's still the same soldier he is at the end of the day, regardless of your gender.

You have a disability (physical or mental)? Ghost will gladly accommodate to your needs because he loves you for you, which includes whatever disability you have. He will shut down any thoughts of you being a burden on him, whether you say you are or if someone else says it.

Just... the 141 boys and them defending you from what society thinks.

Requests are open!

[briarscreek]

141 as different elementary teachers

i’ve been on an abbot elementary binge for a while so let me get this brain rot out rq

141 members eventually retire and they all decide to become elementary teachers so they’re still making an impact on the world.

Price is easy to say that he’d be the principal but I don’t think he would ever do that bc of the amount of stress involved. I think he’d be a really great 1st/2nd grade history teacher. that man can be the strict history teacher but doesn’t sugar coat any of the actual material, like ‘yea this person created x but they were also a horrible person’. Idk man, the vibes are just there.

Gaz is the 7th grade english/language arts teacher that all the other teachers have crushes on. he’s the only one who restocks the coffee creamer in the teachers lounge and makes sure to celebrate everyone’s birthday with a card or cake.

Simon acts like a tough guy but will literally melt for all of the kids in his kindergarten class. you cannot tell me that he would be a great first teacher but also help correct behavior without being cruel. he would also protect those kindergartners with his life if need be. if he sees any signs of hurtful homes for the kids, he immediately reports it first but if it doesn’t stop, he’ll visit that kids home and threaten the parent with ‘don’t ever let it happen again’ and it immediately stops right after that

Johnny has to be that one really cool PE teacher who gets along with everyone, even the lunch cooks. for his classes with the kids, he makes sure that picking teams is randomized so that no kid will ever feel left out or picked last. he also sneaks away some extra lunch food in case any of the kids forgot to bring lunch or cant afford it (the lunch cooks never tell anybody so that their budget doesn’t get cut short)

Imagine how quickly the amount of kids get sent to the nurse’s office after the new school nurse is hired. ‘this is a record high for our school in just this year alone. all from the same 4 teachers. weird.’ says principal Laswell

[heavensdollface]

I fear I started giggling and twirling my hijab

Flowers on Your Scarf

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick X Hijabi!Reader

WC: 300±

You were lying on your back on the picnic blanket. The sky was vast above you, shaded partially with a big tree you were nesting under. Your head was on Kyle’s lap.

As for this moment, Kyle had been trying to get a flower into your scarf, close to where your ear supposed to be. It was staying in place at some point, but it was never on the right position.

At some point, Kyle was failing enough that he was stabbing your face.

“Ow,” you pushed his hand away. “You poked me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyle opened his hands in surrender.

“It won’t work,” you said, pulling the flower out of your scarf.

As you did so, there was a strand of hair getting pulled at the same time. Kyle slipped a finger into the hem of your scarf, tucking your hair in.

“I’ll keep trying,” Kyle said. “You just… look so pretty with flowers on your scarf.”

“You don’t think I look pretty without it?” you asked.

“You do,” Kyle insisted. “You just look impeccable glorious with the flowers.”

The smile on your face was not being held back anymore.

“Just this once, can we make it possible? I just need one photo,” Kyle reasoned.

“One photo?” you asked.

“Yeah, so I can print it and put it in my wallet,” Kyle answered.

“In your wallet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, under your ass when you sit?”

“Well, now you put it like that—”

“I’m joking,” you chuckled.

“No it’s a fair point,” Kyle stated. “What if I put it in my phone case instead?”

“Most people put their significant other’s face on their lockscreen,” you pointed out.

“I want a physical thing, too,” Kyle said. “Something to hold when you’re not with me. Oldschool people do that.”

“Old people, you mean? Your captain doesn’t even do that,” you replied.

Kyle lightly shrugged and let out an awkward hum.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” you sat up, taking the flower from the ground and the bouquet from the basket.

“Tell me,” Kyle said.

“We scatter these flowers that you bought on the ground and I lie down in the middle of them. You take your photos, then you’re the one lying down in the middle of the flowers. I get to take my photos, then,” you explained.

“Deal,” Kyle said.

A/N: I don't do requests, but always down to write muslim/hijabi!reader. Let me know if you want more.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Shadow And Paws

Chapter 5: Shared Vulnerabilities

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff and bonding, vulnerabilities shared

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I’m trying to progress the relationship with them so this is pretty much a filler I’m sorry-

Word Count: 888

Masterlist | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The sanctuary’s night was still, save for the faint crackle of the fire and the occasional chirp of crickets. The group had settled around the flames, each in their own way. Foxy sat closest to the fire, the light dancing across their features, their tail curling comfortably around their legs. Price leaned against a log, methodically sharpening his knife. Soap sprawled out on his back, his eyes lazily tracing constellations above. Gaz perched on a low-hanging branch, as if ready to take flight at any moment, while Ghost lingered in the shadows, silent but present.

The stillness wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with unspoken things. Finally, Foxy broke the silence, their tone light but curious. “So, how’d you all end up together? Doesn’t exactly seem like a natural fit.”

Soap chuckled, his tail wagging slightly as he tilted his head to glance at Price. “Aye, we’re not exactly what you’d call conventional, are we, Cap?”

Price’s lip twitched in what could have been a smile. “Conventional doesn’t get the job done.” He set his knife down, leaning back against the log. “It’s not about where you come from. It’s about what you bring to the table.”

Foxy arched a brow, their gaze playful. “And what do you bring, Price? Besides bossing everyone around, of course.”

The group broke into laughter. Even Ghost let out a low huff of amusement.

“Discipline,” Price replied simply, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

“Now that,” Soap chimed in, “is a fancy way of sayin’ ‘he barks orders.’”

Gaz smirked from his perch. “Sounds about right to me.”

The conversation carried on, lighter now, the group easing into the moment. But then Soap turned to Foxy, his expression softening. “What about you? How’d you end up out here, takin’ on all this by yourself?”

Foxy hesitated, their fingers idly brushing against the scars on their arms. The firelight glinted in their eyes as they looked away. “Someone has to protect this place. If I don’t, who will?” Their voice was quiet but steady, though the weight of the words hung heavy in the air.

Gaz’s voice broke the silence, warm and sincere. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Foxy’s gaze flicked to him, then to the others. Price gave a firm nod, Soap offered a reassuring grin, and even Ghost’s unreadable stare seemed softer. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a step closer to trust.

Soap stretched dramatically, breaking the tension with a groan. “Right, since we’re all gettin’ deep and meaningful, how about we share somethin’ a bit more fun? Like the most embarrassin’ thing that’s ever happened to us.”

Foxy blinked, caught off guard. “That’s quite the pivot.”

“I’ll start,” Soap said, grinning. “I once climbed a tree to impress a lass. Got stuck up there for hours ‘cause I was too stubborn to ask for help.”

The group erupted into laughter, Foxy clutching their sides as Soap held up his hands in mock surrender.

Gaz leaned forward, still chuckling. “That’s nothing. I fell out of a tree during a recon mission once—landed right in the middle of an enemy patrol. Played it off like I meant to be there, but Price wasn’t too happy about having to pull me out.”

Price shook his head, his mustache twitching. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck, mate.”

Foxy smirked, their tail flicking. “You guys really have a thing with trees, huh?”

Gaz shot them a playful glare. “What about you? Got an embarrassing story to share?”

Foxy hesitated, a sly smile tugging at their lips. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. Like the time I tried to outsmart a bear to get some honey. Let’s just say I ran faster than I ever thought I could.”

Soap burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “A bear? You’re braver than I thought, Foxy.”

“Or dumber,” Foxy countered, grinning.

The group’s laughter filled the night, the fire crackling warmly in the background. Even Ghost shared a quiet story—one about mistaking a cat for an enemy in the dead of night, which earned a round of chuckles and a rare, self-deprecating smirk.

As the laughter died down, a thoughtful silence settled over the group. Price leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. “We’ve been through a lot together, but I don’t think we’ve ever properly introduced ourselves.”

The others glanced at one another, hesitant. Price looked at Foxy, his expression encouraging.

Foxy shifted, their gaze dropping to the fire. After a moment of silence, their name slipped from their lips, soft but clear.

The boys looked at them curiously. Soap tilted his head, his voice gentle. “Come again, love?”

Foxy swallowed, their voice steadier this time. “My name. That’s what it is.” They repeated it, their tone quieter but sure.

The group exchanged glances before Price nodded. “Fair enough.”

Soap grinned. “Guess it’s only fair we return the favor. Name’s Johnny.”

Gaz followed, his falcon-like gaze warm. “Kyle.”

Ghost hesitated, his voice low. “Simon.”

Finally, Price spoke, his tone firm. “John.”

Foxy’s gaze swept over them, something warm settling in their chest. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Properly.”

Soap smirked, his tail flicking. “Guess we’re not just strangers anymore, eh?”

The group fell into an easy silence, the firelight reflecting the beginnings of something deeper—something that felt a little like home.

——

End of Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[justmywriting1313]

Kyle Garricks favourite phrases when he is pounding your insides…

“yeah baby? yeah just like that mhmmm I know darling I know”

“Un-huh yeah that’s the spot isn’t it doll? Yeah sweetie but use your words… want to hear how dumb cock makes you”

“ Ah fuck doll… so fucking tight pretty pussy doesn’t want to let my cock go does it?”

“I just love when you get that blank look in your eyes. Are you even hearing a word I say? Love when you get all dumb and subby doll”

“Not going to let you cum till you use your words doll! Come on doll tell me where my finger is! Tell me how my finger is deep in that tight little ass and I’ll let you make a mess”

“Doing so well for me bird….so so fucking good come on keep going you can take more!”

“Need me to go faster? Yeah baby mhmm yeah I know need me to make you dumb don’t you baby girl”

"god, your pussy is just sucking in my fingers, what if i add more, hm? oh, someone likes that idea."

[the-sweet-hibiscus]

I want more stalker!Gaz.

Let that man be so charming when you meet at a bookstore.

Let him make you swoon when you happen to bump into him again at the coffee shop! Accidental drink mix up? That's alright doll, he'll give you his latte in exchange for your number.

Let him pretend he didn't notice you at the bar that weekend conveniently about one day after your nerves make you ghost him.

Let him be the one to help when your Uber gets a flat on the way home – you just got into walking distance? What luck, he'll walk you home.

Oh, you're scared bc you keep hearing noises at night? Well he's always available for a call.

And if you call someone else? Unfortunately they won't answer the next time. Or the time after that. He's patient. He'll let you go through your entire rolladex until he's the only one you think to call.

Don't worry how he got to your house so fast.

Don't worry when he seems to be able to lead you directly to your room with ease.

Don't worry when he insists on sleeping in the room with you. You can trust him. How else would he have kept you safe all this time?

[tempfrangit]

saw @pricetagged 's post (to be entirely transparent) and immediately overcome with the idea of hunter!141 x reader who like to do a little hunt to find a partner, and if you happen to be the partner of the person their ex left them for? all the better.

they get close to you, naturally. you bumped into each other in public and kind of just click - they're like an old friend you just met! when they're not busy with work, they're chatting about the book you just read, or the show you just watched, or maybe your work drama, because you don't like to gossip but it's like some people never learn! they even get along with your favorite friends and family.

when you start to realize you have feelings for them, your partner just happens to seem more distant. it's only right to tell you, your partner is kind of a serial cheater, right? you're friends. and when your fears are so neatly confirmed (he claims he has no idea who those messages are from, but you're not blind.)

they're there for you. it'll all be okay. maybe a nice cuppa and your comfort movie? you're the sweetest prize they've ever gotten.

[beloveds-embrace]

Sooo much angstttttttttttt 😭

I need the boys to wake up and do whatever it takes to fix it, please, I can't take the angst 😭😭😭

Does this count as fix-it? 🤔 hope you enjoy, anon! Also this turned out far longer than i thought it would lol

First Part

Another shift slowly happens within the duchy, palpable. The whispers of servants echo louder than ever, growing sharp and cutting in the empty halls you once used to frequent. They still avoid you, but now they wonder and whisper of your health. It’s not just them; the men you’d once hoped you’d at least be on an amicable basis with slowly change as well, the longer your absence haunts the halls and galas.

John is the first to act. It’s hesitant at first, awkward even, as though he can’t figure out how to approach the shattered remains of what he’s ignored for so long. He stands outside your door one evening, his shadow stretching under the flickering candlelight, fist raised to knock. But he doesn’t. Not at first. He falters, as if the weight of his guilt roots him to the spot.

When he finally does knock, it’s tentative, barely audible.

“…Are you awake?” His voice carries a softness you’ve never heard before, but it grates against your numbness.

You don’t answer. Your eyes barely flick towards the door, not moving from where you are curled on your side.

He lingers, sighs, and leaves.

You had intended to let yourself waste away, in all honesty. Only your mother doesn’t let you; she bursts into your room one day, sneers at the miserable sight you make, and insults you to the high heavens. Nothing new, even if her digs hurt, even if she says she isn’t surprised by no one loving you when you are like this, but she forces you to eat some nibbles and then into a shower; she doesn’t care. She is simply tired of having you be an embarrassment and hiding away from the public eye.

Thus, you no longer stay in your room. You don’t bother with jewelry, with heavy gowns or complicated hair styles or even clearing the layer of dust off your furniture, you just leave your room. Thankfully,

Unfortunately, that means passing by the maids and servants. It means passing by them. It means interacting with them again, though no longer initiated by you.

Simon is the second, and less direct. He lingers in places you begin to re-frequent; the library, the gardens, the corridors near your room. He doesn’t speak, just watches from the periphery, eyes heavy and intense. Once, when you brush past him without acknowledging his presence, he mutters something under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. But he doesn’t try to stop you and you don ask what he said.

He probably didn’t mean you, anyways. You doubt he wants to speak to you, the obstacle.

Johnny falters the most. Though your interactions with him were few, you’d occasionally hear from the servants about how fun he is in general. His smiles, though they’ve never been aimed at you, look quite fake to you, jokes half-hearted and dying on his lips whenever you pass on rare occasions.

One day, he brings a tray of food to your room himself, hoping to coax you into eating with something he’s cooked just for you. You answer the door, see him holding it, and shake your head without a word. Even if it looks delectable, like the dishes John would get.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “I- just try a bit, hen.”

But you close the door before he can say more. He will try again and often, sometimes just leaving the tray, but you never touch it. You’ve lost weight, you know, and the only reason you are getting some nutrients at this point is because you occasionally sneak into the kitchens late at night for tiny snacks to tide you over. If Johnny knows it’s you, he’s never said anything.

Kyle is quieter, yet more present. The guilt eats away at him the most; he knows that his lack of care and respect had a part in the way the rest of the maids and staff treated you. He spends his evenings pacing the hall outside your room, his head bowed, mumbling apologies that you’ll never hear, wondering which one is best.

Once, he catches you in the garden alone, his mouth opening as if to speak, but you pass him without so much as a glance; you already know he won’t care for you have to say or ask for, he’ll just say he is busy, so you just don’t bother.

He stays frozen in place, his hand half-raised, the words stuck in his throat.

The servants, per Kyle and John’s orders, begin to change. Their guilt is slower to manifest, but it’s there and it’s evident in the way they rush to fulfill your needs despite your reluctance. They clean your room with quiet efficiency, no longer treating you like a burden, even though you hadn’t asked it of them. They leave fresh flowers on your desk and vanity, extra blankets on your bed, and freshly pressed gowns in your wardrobe.

You ignore all of it. It’s a waste of everyone’s time snd effort. You aren’t worth it.

Yet despite their heavy guilt, they return to and continue serving you.

But nothing changes the heaviness in your chest, the emptiness that refuses to leave.

One day, closer to the date of the annual winter gala hosted by the emperial family, you step into the dining room unannounced, your presence startling them all. It’s the first time you’ve joined them in weeks. You move slowly, your posture rigid and tired, your expression unreadable.

“Duchess,” John starts, his voice uncertain, rising from his seat.

“…John,” You sit without meeting his eyes, your movements slow and deliberate. The table is silent, the tension suffocating as John, Simon, and Kyle exchange uncertain glances.

John clears his throat. “It’s good to see you, wife.”

You don’t respond.

The meal is awkward, stilted, but it’s necessary for you; you need to get reused to John for your eventual reappearance in high society. Johnny offers you dishes with a hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes, and Kyle pours your wine with an unsteady grip. John and Simon try to start a conversation, but their words falter and fade when you don’t reply.

Still, they try. Over the following weeks, their efforts grow.

John begins carving out time to spend with you, awkwardly hovering near your door, waiting for even a crumb of acknowledgment. He starts leaving small notes for you- apologies and quiet promises to be better. They pile up on your desk, untouched but not thrown away. You want to believe, but you feel jaded and tired.

Simon offers you quiet companionship, instead. Standing at your side in the garden or library, saying nothing but ensuring you’re not alone. He speaks softly when he does talk, a one-sided conversation with only the occasional hum or noise from you, but he’s undeterred.

Johnny keeps cooking for you, leaving trays of food outside your door with little notes attached: Eat a bit, bonnie. Just for me. You don’t eat much, still have very little appetite, but you do start taking bites here and there, and it’s enough to keep him trying.

Kyle offers small acts of service- holding doors open for you, keeping anything you might need available at hanf, ensuring your rooms are kept warm and comfortable. His words are rare, but his actions speak of endless guilt and the quiet hope that he can earn even a sliver of forgiveness.

The maids and butlers follow suit, their movements quieter, their service more thoughtful. They stop muttering, their eyes full of remorse whenever they see you. They bow in respect, and no longer treat you as if you aren’t a part of the duchy.

But you keep them all at arm’s length. Their guilt is evident, their efforts genuine, but the wounds they’ve left on your heart are deep. Forgiveness, if it ever comes, will not be easily earned. For now, you let them try, watching their clumsy attempts with a mixture of numbness and quiet satisfaction (that you do feel guilty over, but truly can’t help).

Several weeks before the gala, John comes to your office. He sits down, and waits until you are finished with your paperwork before he speaks. You are in a beautiful dress- Simon’s gift- and your hair is in a delicate style, done by your maids. You look pretty. You feel nice, even if the numbness remains. These days, it’s less.

“Duchess, I was thinking,” he began, voice soft and patient. “it might do you some good to get away for a while. A change of scenery.”

You turned to look at him, the suggestion pulling you from your numb reverie. His blue eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no coldness, no distance. “Somewhere quiet,” he continued, “where you can rest… away from all of this.”

The idea of leaving the suffocating walls of the manor, and the heavy tension of the duchy was tempting. And yet, you hesitated, unsure if you could trust the gesture or if it was just another attempt to smooth over appearances.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he added quickly, as if sensing your doubt. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. You can choose who you’d like to go with, or even if you want to go alone. It’s entirely up to you, Duchess.”

Johnny and Kyle appeared in the doorway then, Kyle holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea, Johnny with a small, hopeful smile and a plate of your favorite biscuits. Even Simon lingered near the threshold, his gaze steady but tinged with something softer than usual.

They were all waiting for your answer, their expressions almost pleading. You could feel the weight of their guilt and the sincerity of their offer. It wasn’t much- not enough to erase everything that had passed- but it was something. A step forward.

“…I’ll think about it.” you said at last, your voice quiet but firm. And for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of relief in their eyes.

[ghouljams]

Absolutely cannot have fresh shaved/waxed pussy around the 141 boys.

Soap will cry over it, mourning the loss of your bush and "talking his girl(your pussy) through the loss" ie fingering you until you're soaked and sore as punishment.

Price will make it his mission to give you beard burn, shaking his head like a damn dog while he's eating you out, scratching the hell out of your pussy and thighs with his beard. He's trying to bleach the damn thing you just know it.

Ghost is the worst. Taking the opportunity to leave his dental imprint in the soft flesh surrounding your clit. He's going to bite until you're sobbing just to see the dimpled marks he's left.

At least Gaz is sweet. Pressing little kisses over the newly shaved/waxed skin, giving your clit soft little licks and pulling back to rub his fingers against your clit with gentle praises. Until you realize he's been doing that for the last hour, giving you just enough to keep you making those nice breathy noises but never giving you more. Maybe you should try Soap again...

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

bear hybrid! price who stalks around your house at night, protecting you from whatever else might be lurking in the woods. you don't know that he is of course, but you should be more thankful when he shuts and locks your windows when you're asleep. occasionally you see him lumber on the edge of the forest, minding his own. he doesn't want to scare you, but he wants you to admire him, too.

wolf hybrid! simon that follows you everywhere (from a distance and he rarely lets you touch him). you were frightened at first of the big bad wolf, but when he takes you away from snakes and other dangers in the woods you learn to leave out some scraps for him. (he sleeps on your front step. won't enter the house yet.)

fox hybrid! johnny who regularly sneaks into your house to play in your blankets. the wildlife here is so friendly you're shocked, shouldn't they be frightened of you? however he sleeps under your bed and he's fine unless you try to kick him out. red fur is on everything, he seems unusually close to the wolf that looms around. loves scratches to the ears!

falcon hybrid! kyle who hovers in air around your house. he finds little trinkets for you and leaves them on your porch. he mostly hangs around price, but he will chirp greetings and steal bird feed from your feeders.

they protect you in different ways, trying to worm their way to your affections before they bed down in your abode for winter.

[chamomiletealeaf]

Being so sensitive to squirting that the 141 make fun of your for it and have little competitions to see who can make you squirt the fastest :(

Johnny holds the record of 37 seconds from fingering you so fast you couldn’t tell when his fingers were inside or out of you.

After their little competition your poor pussy was so swollen and sensitive that all it took was a few rough spanks to your pussy from Price to make you squirt again.

“Oh well look at that? Seems we got a new record holder hm?” Price teases you and Johnny.

“That doesn’t count the competition is over!” Johnny exclaims angrily at Price.

Meanwhile Simon and Gaz are fucking rock hard from watching you squirt again so quickly.

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that, when his kids are driving him up the fucking wall, pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks to himself “I should’ve pulled out.”

Gaz is the type of dad that, when his kids are giving him attitude, drops them off at Nana’s house because he knows she’ll teach them a thing or two about respect.

Soap is the type of dad that, when his kids are being ungrateful little shits, takes all of the batteries/cables/chargers out of their devices and buries them somewhere in the yard.

Price is the type of dad that, when his kids are getting on his very last nerve, threatens to drop them off outside the nearest animal shelter like a box of unwanted puppies.

[forsworned]

Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.

[slaughter-kin]

YEAH? AND?