#Kyle garrick

[homeofthelonelywriter]

The boys still couldn’t believe it. They had just taken down Makarov, Johnny barely surviving it, and now they were somewhere in America, in a beach house with a strip of private beach. All curtesy of Kate, apparently it belonged to her family but was hardly used, so the boys using it was a welcome change.

They had been uncertain if they wanted to accept the (paid for) vacation, but after they all finally got released from the hospital, Price decided it was time for a break and some relaxation. So, they packed their bags and flew to the States. Kate had given them a brief introduction on what was where over the phone and the excitement grew, especially when she mentioned that there was scuba diving equipment.

So, the moment they arrived, after quickly dumping their stuff in the entry way and changing, they grabbed the equipment and set out into the waters. Even Simon couldn’t suppress a small smile or hide his excitement. At first, they stayed fairly close to the surface, but after Johnny saw a colorful fish he wanted to follow, they continued on into deeper waters. And that was when they heard it.

At first, it sounded like a wounded animal, but nothing like anything they had heard before. Either way, a sudden protectiveness coursed through them as they followed the sound to the source. And then they saw it. Or rather her. You.

Your tail had gotten stuck in an abandoned fishing net and you couldn’t get out. Originally, you had tried to reach your people with your cries, but no one came. Well, except for these four men suddenly in front of you. The few encounters you had with humans so far, had never ended well, so no one could blame you when you shrunk back in fear, reaching for the dagger that usually rested in its sheath on your hip, but you had lost it when you tried to free yourself earlier.

The men and you starred at each other for a few moments, before one of them approached. Immediately you tried to swim away, momentarily forgetting about the net, but you were immediately pulled back as the rope cut into your scales. A pained wail escaped you, as blood slowly seeped into the water. The man quickly raised his hands, before slowly gesturing to the net and then to his thigh, where you could see a small knife. You could see his eyebrows raise, as if asking for permission, and you slowly nodded, hoping that they would just let you go afterwards.

He mirrored your nod, before slowly approaching you and taking out his knife. With precision that was unknown to you, he cut through the rope until you were free. Out of reflex, you darted away, your tail swishing hard enough to send the man back a bit, making him loose his grip on the knife and you watched as it disappeared into the darkness. You glanced back at the four, before diving into the darkness, after the knife. Along with it, you found your dagger, which you put back in its place, before swimming back up, just to see the four still there, as if they hadn’t moved. Slowly, you swam up to the man who freed you and held out the knife with both hands, a small smile gracing your lips.

He took it from you, nodding in thanks. After one more glance over all of them, you turned around and swam back to your home, taking a few detours in case they were following you. But when you came to rest later that day, you mind stayed with the men. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. And little did you know that they had the exact same problem.

A/N: Inspired by a post by @beloveds-embrace. Should I continue this?

[mina-org]

part two to this!

warning for smut, 141 are panty sniffers! and more yanderery than the last! I have another part written but I just felt like was already dragged a lil so lmk if you want the next part! also not edited bc im lazy

“The birds just not fuckin’ into ya johnny. She never took this long to respond to me.” Simon smirks, truthfully he didn’t really remember but he was fucked off with this entire thing, not only was Johnny after his bird but texting you became a group sport, even the double text.

Simon seethes, usually you would've crawled back to him by now, you'd get drunk and call him sobbing from whatever pub you were at and you'd owe him, rinse and repeat.

At least if you were into Johnny he'd know what you were doing but now your absence started to eat at him, he just wondered your were like a deer fresh out the womb, learning to walk, how would you survive when Simon wasn't there to pick up your the pieces when you inevitably fell apart again.

simon couldnt take them fawning over you anymore so he returned to his bedroom, he had a little secret that he had to keep from those closest to him, your underwear. A collection really.

to start with, they were just tucked in his bag for when he was deployed, he’d push a pair around his cock, satin felt nice but the cream pair with little berries on? they were too cute and so you. He’d pump his cock until they were stick with his cum.

then when he was home more often and you were fucked too dumb to bounce on his cock, neglecting him after hes giving you so many? he'll remember that for next time. and really left him no choice but to scout out your discarded panties, maybe a fresh pair if you packed them, and he'd finish himself off before tugging them up your legs, his cum from earlier still leaking out your pretty pussy. something about you walking home in shame, carrying him with you, a sense of ownership simon loved.

now these panties were all he had, and he wasn't gonna share them. maybe with Johnny, if he was good.

after a week it just wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needed to see his girl but all his texts weren't sending:( and he hadn't seen you at the gym or the pilates class you spent so much money on. almost like your little temper tantrum was serious this time.

okay so it took simon a week or two to turn up begging, well demanding your forgiveness.

or he would've, if you answered the fucking door? after coming over and almost fighting your door guy a few times, he gets the hint, stealth is wealth and all that.

now here he is, staring at you through binoculars, on the rooftop opposite your building, like he's gathering intel or some shit. originally he was gonna keep this to himself, threes a crowd after all but it was chilly on the rooftop and simon is all about efficiency and your safety of course!

thing is, that pesky door man knows who simon is, and its doubtful a stick on moustache and boiler suit is gonna convince him that simon is also the buildings engineer!

through this process they've found out your building has a lot of security issues, nobody even thought about cyber security so when gaz sends out an email with a list of apartment numbers and a time, stating some maintenance was needed, no one bats an eye.

and of course you dont want any awkward conversations, like offering them tea or coffee 50 times while they try to focus but they'd think you rude if you dont and you can't ignore them, thats rude too. so you have to go out and stay out.

so you go shopping, you've been needing more underwear anyway!

soon enough John and gaz are in your apartment, putting up hidden cameras, slipping trackers into the linings of your most worn clothes, rifling through your belongings and testing out your perfume, trying to figure out which one you use daily from the memories of your scent lingering on simon and around the flat.

however gold is struck when they come across your laundry basket! feral is the best fitting word, Johnny will froth at the mouth once they tell him and of course share the bounty of their conquest.

taglist: @skeletonsucker @supernova2205 @wh0re4-alexademi @grr457

[gloomwitchwrites]

T141 with the TikTok ‘put your boyfriend on the counter’ prank? 😭

It doesn’t matter how many TikTok pranks y’all send in, I love them all. It’s always so fun for me to try and figure out what would happen and how the guys will react. I’ve only seen this prank a few times on the app, but I knew what you were talking about immediately! Thanks for sending it in!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): humor, swearing, shenanigans, domestic fluff, brief suggestive themes (Soap’s)

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John tolerates your shenanigans. Tolerate isn’t the right word. Sometimes he simply rolls his eyes and goes about his day. Other times, he’s laughing along with you, perplexed and impressed by your ingenuity.

And here you are, ready to startle him all over again. It’s a habit, and part of your personality. John married you after all. He knew exactly what he was getting when he said “I do.”

Finding the perfect angle, you go for it, sliding across the kitchen floor in your socks, nearly falling over when you try to stop yourself next to John.

He cocks an eyebrow. Starts to turn. “What—”

The question dies on his lips.

Your arms are around his thighs in seconds. Holding tight, you start to lift.

“No,” says John when he realizes what’s happening. “No!”

Knowing to lift with the knees and not the back, you do just that, and when John is up in the air, you wobble.

John stiffens as you plop him onto the counter. You stand back. Beam. Give him a wink.

He slides off the counter, shaking his head, eyes skyward. “I am happily married,” he says, voice strained. “I am happily married,” he repeats.

John "Soap" MacTavish

You need a running start. You won’t lift him otherwise.

It’s a brief forward charge with bent knees and arms outstretched. You look like a crab as you scuttle across the kitchen floor. Wrapping your arms around Johnny��s thighs, you retain your momentum, lifting him off the floor and onto the kitchen counter.

He stays still at first, all of his limbs locked into the same position as when you lifted him. He stares at you in disbelief.

Johnny places his hands on his knees. “You—” He pauses a moment, and then grins. “You fucking picked me up.”

“I did,” you confirm, proud of yourself.

“Lifted with your knees.”

“Just like you taught me.”

Johnny’s head tilts slightly, a flirtatious gleam in his eye. A familiar heat crawls up the back of your neck to ensnare your cheeks. He leans in, shifting his arm so that his elbow digs into his knee and his head rests in his hand.

“With your newfound strength I think we could switch it up in the bedroom.”

“Johnny!” you laugh, smacking his legs.

“What?” he chuckles. “Not interested in topping me?”

You cover your face with both hands, groaning loudly as he laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Can’t bloody believe this,” mutters Simon.

His back is to you as he stares down at the pile of mail on the kitchen counter. Spreading them out like a fan, Simon begins to organize the different envelopes, grumbling under his breath the entire time.

You don’t announce your arrival, but you don’t hide it either. With a casual hop to your step, you enter the kitchen, walking up behind Simon. He gives you a brief glance, and when you come to a stop directly behind him, Simon reaches for you, lightly tapping your hip before returning to his task.

Wrapping your arms around his middle, you connect your hands at his front. Simon places one hand over your clasped ones, but he doesn’t turn around to address you.

You don’t have his complete attention. And it’s attention you want. Simon’s attention.

Sliding down, you stop at his thighs. Putting all your strength in your legs, you lift.

And grunt.

And strain.

And huff.

And gasp for air.

You drop him, staggering back, unsuccessful in putting him on the counter.

Simon slowly turns. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Why are you so heavy?” you wheeze, collapsing to the floor.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle leans against the kitchen counter. He holds a mug and the morning newspaper. Taking a sip from the mug, Kyle is in his own little world, oblivious to you lurking just around the corner.

You watch like a predator hunting prey, waiting until the perfect moment to move in. You’re always surprising him, and this will be no different.

As you step into the kitchen, Kyle briefly glances up from the newspaper. “Morning, love,” he says, voice full of sweetness.

When he glances back, you come up in front of him. Bending at the knees, you wrap your arms around his thighs. It’s difficult but you manage. And with all of your strength. You lift, and plot him onto the kitchen counter.

Kyle blinks, his arms outstretched like a scarecrow.

“Did—did you just pick me up and put me on the counter?” he asks, baffled.

You place your hands on your hips, beaming. “Sure did. Like it was hard.”

Shaking his head, guffaws, and then begins to laugh in earnest.

“What?” you prompt, suddenly confused.

Kyle places the tea mug down. “You can lift me but you couldn’t help move the dining table the other day.”

“Listen—"

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3

[the-californicationist]

when guys flex their cocks to make them bounce up and down to make it feel like a heartbeat?

gaz does it on purpose. he'll be spooning you in bed, naked and pressed up against your back, and he'll wake you up with it, making his cock throb and pump against your thighs like he's knocking on the door. something something "lemme in, babes..." when he's finally inside of you, he'll keep the head right at your rim, flexing his cock there, taunting you until you're desperate enough to rock yourself back against him, needing him. and he'll rib you for it, calling you such a dirty fuckin' slag, and saying "i knew you wanted this cock. all you had to do was ask me, baby..."

simon does it exclusively to torture you. right before he slips inside of your hole, he'll clench his muscles and pop himself out of alignment, making you squirm and beg and cry for it. chuckling and chiding you, laughing and saying shit like "oops, sorry, love. got too bloody eager, dinnit i?" or when you've got your hands tied behind your back and he's put you on your knees, his favorite way to have you, he'll make you chase him with your mouth, frustrating you beyond measure. or maybe, when you finally catch him, he'll pump it again, choking you deep inside your throat.

soap can't help it. and it happens all the time. coming home from the shops late at night, last train home, hiding in the back car together, he grabs your hand and puts it on his crotch so you can feel how hard he is. as soon as you touch him, even through the layers of fabric, he'll pulse beneath your touch, breathing hard and sighing in a high-pitched whine. grabbing your hair and dragging you closer so he can whisper in your ear, "holy shite, bonnie. cannae wait til we get home. need ya now, lass. please, please, please." all the while, his cock is leaping up at you like a rabid dog, trying to get a bite.

john doesn't even know he's doing it. while you're trapped in his grip, being made to sit on his bearded face, your hole absolutely tongue-fucked out of your mind, you get to watch it. his cock will throb, hard and heavy, slapping the hairy skin of his belly, pulsing every time you grind out another orgasm on his lips. and when he's finally deep inside of you, stretching you in ways that you're not entirely sure are even possible, filling you up to a concerning degree, and he starts to come, he goes absolutely stock-still. then, the only thing moving is his prick. you can actually feel his girth pounding inside of you, banging against your fucked out hole like a hammer, dumping hot, sticky loads of his cream deep inside of your body.

[goatgoesmbe]

He hangin

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 6 - The Price of Love

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, torture, descriptions of injuries, use of weapons, blood, suicidal thoughts, all hurt very little comfort, angst.

Previous parts - masterlist- next

AO3

Enjoy <3

Johnny regretted his decision as soon as he gets out the window. He can already hear Price’s voice ringing in his head, he can deal with Price though he’s been in trouble before. It’s not Price he’s worried about, it's Simon, the cold stare, the low authoritative voice that only comes out once in a blue moon. It sends shivers up his spine just thinking about it. 

At least he has the makeup sex to look forward to. If he makes it out alive, and Simon doesn’t kill him.

He can’t let you do this alone, he can’t let them keep hurting you. They’re so fuckin’ close and they have to sit around waiting for what? Red tape bullshit? For Price to decide now is the time while you suffer more?

He looks out at the guards on the gate to the compound, he has no idea what he’s going to say. Maybe they’ll kill him on site? No, he’s useful, if anything he can take some of the torture off you.

He just needs to see you, hold you in his arms again, even if it means him getting hurt. He steps out from behind the broken wall he’s using to scout the base. The place seems emptier than they thought it was, maybe not hundreds of people a couple of dozen, he counted maybe 30, less than that during the day.

He sucks up a breath, it’s now or never. He walks over to the gate raising his hands as they point their weapons and shout at him. Another person comes out as he’s forced to his knees. Hands grip his wrists pulling them shapely against his back. 

“Easy, you’ve got to work on your greeting.” He says. There’s a shout and someone hits him over the head with the butt of their weapon. It makes his head ring, there’s buzzing in his ears and his vision is blurred. 

The next thing he knows he’s being dragged into the building.

…

Sayyid walks into your cell. Fuck him. You’re not going to say a word to him. 

He throws a bandage at you. 

“You need to change the one on your arm.” He says. He’s not wrong, you’re not going to do anything under his orders though. “Change it. I have something for you.” 

Fuck him. 

“Another innocent person to kill?” You spit at him. He doesn’t say anything, you watch him clench his jaw. 

“Look, change it yourself or I will. I’m giving you a choice.” He snaps. You get up to your feet rushing over to him. 

“Like you gave Naajiya a fucking choice.” You push him, it sends a shooting pain down your arm. He pushes you back and you fall on your ass. You don’t even care, there’s no embarrassment, you're just mad and upset. 

“Last chance. I’ll make them pin you down if I have to.” He says. You huff reaching over and ripping the bandage off in one swift movement. You grit your teeth, it hurts. You look over at it the best that you can. It burns, it’s swollen and sore. Most likely infected, you pick the bandage up off the floor shaking the sand off. 

“Looks infected.” He says. 

“Fuck off.” You say ripping the packaging with your teeth. You press it on the wound, you can feel the heat through the bandage, it needs stitches, too late now. When you’re done you stand up. 

“I’m not saving anymore people for you.” You say. He scoffs knocking on the door. You wait letting the guard grab your upper arm and pull you out of the room. You’re following Sayyid, he seems more important than you first thought. 

You reach a door with a guard outside. You’re not in the ward, you're in a new place. Sayyid hands you another bandage. The door is opened and you’re shoved in. You stumble but you manage to keep your balance as the door is slammed close behind you.

When you look up your heart sinks. It’s Johnny, his head slumped forward, tied to a chair. 

“No, no. no.” you whisper going over to him. You drop the bandage and press your hands on his face. His head comes up and you look at him. Tears cloud your vision. What is he doing here, your fingers run through his hair.

He’s hurt, now he’s tied up, he’s here. 

“Hey love.” He says smiling. He’s actually smiling. 

“What the hell Johnny.” You say quietly trying to keep your voice level. 

“Had to see you. Don’t want you to be alone.” He says. You look at the wound on his head sniffling. 

“What did they hit you with?” You say. You feel sick, your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re not even thinking straight, you’re not listening to his answer. Your hands are shaking as you hold his face. You want nothing more than to untie him from the chair. 

The door to the room opens and you turn watching 2 people come in. One dragging a chair with them. Your hands leave Johnny, you want to protect him but you can’t, you’re in no position to protect him. 

“Sit.” The taller man says, the other man puts the chair down facing Johnny. You swallow and nod moving over to the chair. Johnny’s eyes scan round the room, you watch as the men walk round you both. You’re trying to stop the tears coming down your face but it’s too late. You’re too tired, you didn’t think you would have to worry about Johnny being here. 

You didn’t expect him to be here, or even be rescued. You can’t let them hurt Johnny though, you’re used to this you can take the blame. There’s no point in you both getting hurt. 

“Where are the rest of your team?” The man asks from behind Johnny. You both look at each other but you don’t say anything. You don’t even know, they must be close though. The man lets out a long sigh, this can’t be good. Hands land on your shoulders. 

“I need information and now I have two of you. So who wants to go first?” 

“Me.” You call before Johnny gets a chance. He starts to protest, you dig your eyes into him. He shouldn’t have come. This is not his burden to hold, it’s yours.

The man behind you picks up your hand, he holds it in his. You don’t try to fight him, if you fight him they’ll hurt Johnny. You can’t let them do that. 

“What we do to her, we’ll then do to you. So maybe it’s best if you start talking.” The other man says looking at Johnny who hasn’t taken his eyes off you. The man takes something out of his back pocket, it looks like pliers. 

“Medic’s need their hands right?” He says taking your hand from the other man. You feel ill, you don’t want to lose your hands, if you don’t have your hands you cant work. You watch as the pliers are pressed on your finger gripping the nail. 

You feel sad, whatever they do to you, they’re going to do to Johnny. 

“Tell us where they are?” The man asks again, you can already feel him pulling on your nail.

Johnny better keep his mouth shut, you’re not going through this for nothing. There’s a few seconds of silence. You can’t look at Johnny when they do it. It will only make it worse, for both of you. They ask the question again and neither of you say anything. 

There’s a sigh, you squeeze your eyes closed and scream as the nail is pulled off your finger. 

…

“You sure this is a good idea?” Gaz asks. 

“No. This is not a good idea, we need help.” Price says as he opens the program on the laptop. 

“Captain Price.” Shepherd says as the call connects. 

“General.” Price replies, Gaz can almost hear him gritting his teeth. 

“Laswell briefed me on what happened. I told you running after her was a bad idea. We have protocols in place for a reason.” He says then sits down in a chair. 

“Lucky for you Shadow Company are already on their way. I’m sure commander Graves is capable of getting the hostages back.” Shepherd says. Price is still gritting his teeth. 

“Let me tell you though Captain, this is not your mission. You have let yourself get into this mess and now it is my responsibility to fix it. We are not in the position to lose 2 SAS soldiers.” 

“But one was okay.” Gaz mutters. Ghost looks over at him. 

“You caused this mess. Lets hope there are no further complications. I will make sure Graves is kept up to date. He should be with you in the next few hours.” Shepherd says. Price nods and the call ends. 

Gaz can see the tension in his shoulders, he can tell how much he hates doing this. Running back to Shepherd to ask for help with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. 

“We’re not going to have a medevac.” Ghost says, Price stands up. 

“Based on what we’ve seen we have to assume she’s in a worse state than Soap.” Price says standing up.

“Graves will have medics right?” Gaz asks, Price looks over at him. 

“We have to hope so.” 

“She’s still alive, that's what matters. We’re going to get them both out. With or without Grave’s help.” Ghost says. Price nods, looking between them both. 

…

Your fingers throb, your arm is shaking. It didn’t help that they did this on your already injured arm. Johnny didn’t talk, you didn’t talk. That's all that matters. 

They seemed mad, leaving the room when they were done pulling each nail off your hand. You can’t even bare to look at Johnny, you can’t do this. You can’t hear him go through what you just went through. You tried not to scream, you tried so hard to keep it together at least for Johnny’s sake.  

“Love?” Johnny asks, you can hear the break in his voice, the pain. He shouldn't be here. 

“Don’t-” The words catch in your throat. All you can feel is pain pulsing through your arm. Nails grow back, just like hair nails grow back. Right? You can’t remember, all you can think about is pain. You feel cold, you’re in the desert inside a windowless room with no ventilation but you’re cold, there’s a shiver running through you. 

You look up at Johnny, your head is swimming. If this gets any worse you might break. If they hurt Johnny you might break. 

“Johnny. Don’t tell them anything.” You say watching his face. He looks worried, his eyes look glassy through your foggy vision. 

“I won’t.” He says. You drop your head again as tears come. You feel sick but there's nothing in your stomach, you haven’t eaten in days. You need to keep it together, at least until this is over, you’re not sure how long this is going to last though.  

You hear the door open behind you again. There’s only one person now, you can only hear one pair of feet on the floor. Hands land on your shoulders, it makes you sit up straight, whoever it is they bend down by your face, you can feel their breath on your neck. 

They don’t have their face covered. The only person you’ve seen without that has been Sayyid, and the patients you’ve treated. 

“It’s a shame it had to end like this.” You watch as Sayyid walks around you. 

“Who are you?” You ask, he’s definitely more connected to Khalid than you thought. He would stress over Khalid’s associates being injured, he knew people, he stopped your execution. He’s not just a random soldier. 

“Does it matter?” He asks. 

No it doesn’t.

“They want to make sure you don’t die.” He says morbidly. You must look worse than you feel if they’re worried about you dying. He comes over to you and you shoot up out the chair. You can’t keep your balance though and you’re on the floor before you can stop yourself. 

You can hear Johnny shouting at him, you can hear the anger in his voice. This is not his fight, it's yours. 

“Touch me and i’ll break your fucking wrists.” You shout.

“Good luck with that.” He says bending over and hauling you to your feet. You try to fight him, you don’t want him to help you.

“Fuck you!” You shout as you squirm from his grip. You manage to get away and press yourself into the corner of the room. He stops coming to you, for a second you have the upper hand. 

“Do no harm.” You say, it comes off with a sob.

“I fucking helped you save the lives of people who would rather see me dead. That is what I took the hippocratic oath for.” You’re almost screaming at him, you don’t care how loud you’re being. “Do no harm.”

He sighs walking round the chair.

“You’re the enemy.” He says. “Your friend here has killed so many of us.” Your legs wobble as he gets closer to you. Whatever advantage you thought you had you’ve lost. 

“I’ve killed so many of you.” You say. Your whole body silvers as your adrenaline wains, you look over at Johnny his body is leaned forward almost like he’s trying to throw himself out the chair. He looks worried, confused, he doesn’t know about the people you helped. Maybe he’ll hate you. 

“I’ve saved just as many. Do no fucking harm.” You spit, he sighs, stepping back and calling something in arabic. The door to the room opens and two men walk in, they both stand there looking at Sayyid. 

Something clicks in your brain. Who else would let you treat the people so freely, who else would let you work on people unless he knew he could kill you if things go wrong. You’ve let yourself fall into a trap. 

“Sayyid Al-Asad? That's your name right?” You ask, he doesn’t even need to nod, you can tell from the look in his eyes, the clench of his jaw. He’s Khaled’s brother, this is his base. You don’t know what to say. You feel sick, and you rub your stomach as tears form in your eyes. Hands grab you, pulling your arms behind your back as your walked back over to the chair. 

It’s kicked out of the way and you’re just stood facing Johnny. Sayyid reaches over taking a weapon from the man behind you. 

“Sayyid!” You call, it’s like your body already knows what is about to happen. He pulls the barrel back on the weapon walking over to Johnny. He looks over at you quickly then his eyes switch to Sayyid. 

“Please! Sayyid!” you beg fighting the grip of the people behind you, you’re not going to go down without a fight. You’re not going to let him hurt Johnny, your body throbs as the guards hands grip you tighter. You end up on your knees, your feet kicking into the sand. 

“Baby.” Johnny calls, can barely see him through the tears and the fuzziness in your head. He’s calling you baby, he knows what's going to happen and it breaks your heart. You sob your head drops. A second later someone grips your hair painfully pulling your head up so you’re forced to look at him. 

“Please. I’ll tell you anything, just don’t hurt him.” You beg, you’re begging. It’s pathetic what a mess you must look. This is what it took to break you, Johnny sitting there seemingly accepting his fate. That feels worse, it’s almost like he knew this would happen. 

“It’s too late.” Sayyid says. It doesn’t feel real when the weapon goes off. The sound is so loud it makes your ears ring. You fight with the people holding you screaming trying to get to Johnny. 

They drag you out the room though. You fight them the whole way, screaming and crying out for Johnny.

They killed him. They actually killed him.

...

You haven’t moved since they threw you back in your cell. All you can smell is blood, all you can think about is the sound of the weapon. They didn’t shoot his head, they’re going to make him suffer, let him bleed out slowly while they torture him for intel.

Why does it feel like this is all your fault? You can’t stop crying, the sobbing has given way to shivers and silent tears. He's dead, you don’t care what happens now. You don’t care about a rescue, how are you supposed to move on without him?

How will you tell the others what happened-if you ever see them again. How would you break it to Simon, he’s going to take it the worse. It’ll ruin him, he’ll never be the same again, maybe he’ll never forgive you. 

You hear shouting, you look down at your hand, the bloody emptied nail beds throb with pain. Another shout some banging. They’re coming for you again. They’re going to take you and hurt you, maybe even kill you. You go over to the corner of the room digging in the sand. You don’t care anymore, you’re going to kill whoever comes into your cell. You don’t care who it is. 

You raise the blade standing by the door, as it’s kicked open. Someone in full combat gear walks in with a weapon raised. 

You almost don’t believe your eyes, you recognise that gear. You recognise the hair sticking out from under the helmet, the o-positive blood patch. He turns towards you, you drop the scalpel from your hand. 

“John?” You ask. He straightens up looking at you, he lowers his weapon and you watch as his eyes widen. You feel relief, you reach out for him but instead of going into a hug your body goes limp and you fall against him. 

“John.” You call again, it almost doesn't feel real he arms wrap round you as he guides you to the floor. 

“Yeah, I'm here. I got you.” He says pulling you tight against his chest. 

“Ghost, I’ve got her. What about Soap?” Hearing his name makes you panic. You watched him get shot. You won’t be able to hear a reply but you look up at him. You never thought you would see him again, now he’s here rescuing you. It almost doesn’t feel real 

“I need-” You fight John’s grip. “-Johnny, I need to help. They fucking shot him!” you can hear the desperation in your voice. 

“It’s okay, you’ve helped enough.” Price says fighting your grip and pulling you tighter against him. 

“Johnny.” You say again, you need to find him. 

“We’ve got him. Ghost’s got him, you're both okay.” Price says. You move your hand up his chest, looking in his eyes. “We’ve got you. I got you.” 

You feel round hus vest trying to ground yourself, you blink trying to focus on him as your head throbs. He calls something into his radio as he helps you up to your feet. You slump against him your whole body shaking. As soon as you’re taken out the room you see Kyle coming towards you. 

“Kyle.” You sob reaching out for him, you need to feel him, you need to know it’s real. 

“Holy shit.” He calls as you fall into his embrace. John’s hand is on your back.

“You two over here!” John shouts. It makes you jump. What two? “Get her out of here Gaz.”

“John!” You call as he tries to walk away from you. You grip his arm. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. Gaz’ll get you out of here. I’m going to help Ghost.” He explains. It takes all the energy you have to turn to John. 

“He needs me. He’s hurt.” 

“You’re in no position to help right now we’ve got this. Graves has medics here.” Kyle says almost having to drag you down the halls. 

“Graves?” You see more people now, more shadows. Shadow Company are here. You’re led out the building. The sun makes you squint, you lose your balance stumbling against Kyle. Black spots flash across your vision. 

“Kyle.” You call out for him, gripping his vest tighter. This is a horrible place to pass out. You hear him shout something then there are more hands on you, holding you up. Pain shoots through your body, it feels like the first time you’ve relaxed in days. 

“I’m here.” You hear him say but you can’t see him in the low sun shining in your eyes and the people surrounding you. You’re laid onto something soft, you try to roll over to reach out for Kyle. You just need to feel him. His fingers find yours, you look up at him letting your eyes adjust to the shade, people start talking and pressing around your body. 

“Don’t leave.” You say, he comes round to bend down by your head. 

“Never.” 

[gothghostiie]

oh my GOSH need more ab the guys having small dicks liiiikeeeee

I think so much about this tbh bc ughhhh bdhdhd mh. yea. yea

cw: overstim if you squint, frotting(?), dom!reader for simon, humiliation/degrading, afab & amab version for soap, otherwise fully gn!reader

Price is absolutely not ashamed about it, not one bit. he was when he was younger, but that just lead him to making sure he can satisfy with his hands and mouth, and God does he deliver. rips at least 2 or 3 orgasms from

soap is a freaky little thing, he likes being bullied for it, he likes being praised for it, whatever rows your boat is good with him. but his favourite pastime? rubbing his little cock against your clit. the feeling of both of your hard nubs, your cunt coating both in your slick while you essentially scissor?? has him cumming so fast. if you have a cock it's the same, rubbing up against your hard length and seeing the size difference, no matter how big or small, has him fucking drooling all over it.

Gaz isn't insecure about it, rather cocky actually. takes pride in making you feel good, especially if you have your doubts about it. cocks an eyebrow with a smirk when he sees the surprised expression on your face when you pull down his boxers but doesn't say anything, actions speak louder than words (the actions being fucking you senseless).

ghost is a fucking huge guy. his partners usually expect that to apply to every part of his body - which it doesn't. has definitely had some pretty bird he took home from the bar tell him that they were disappointed. but you know what? he gets off on that shit. simon fucking lives for being ridiculed and humiliated - especially if you actively 'try' to pleasure yourself with it and tell him how useless it is.

[laswells-ashtray]

May I humbly request some more SoapGaz? I do not care what, just go wild. I love how they match each others freak

Is that because of the cock piercing post because that was supposed to appeal to maybe three people but it broke out of its bounds and now far too many people have seen it.

Johnny shaves his bush and goes bare because he decides to get a tattoo above his cock that says "it won't suck itself". He's a little sleazy and it's a lot funny, sue him.

But it hurts and he could really use someone's help rubbing balm on it when he's freshly out of the shower. So, why not ask one of his closest friends.

He's in pain and it hurts too much to do it himself, maybe Kyle could just help him. Maybe, out of the kindness of his heart.

Kyle's hand spends longer on Johnny's cock than it does rubbing balm on his tattoo.

The Scotsman isn't so ungrateful that he wouldn't offer to suck his friend's cock for all the help he provided. Though he does resent having to go back in the shower to wash the cum out of his hair but Kyle did insist that if he took the time out of his day to help a friend in need then he also deserved to cum on that friend's face.

[nerdygirlramblings]

the pups come home!

an: it's another long one. sorry?

cw: poorly executed accents, omegaverse biology, m/m anal sex (including knotting)

previous

Quiet but not quite. Still but reatless. Nervous energy crackles in the air. Excited tension. The house holds its breath, waiting. Your parents and the new pups are on their way home.

Every passing car causes a cascade of glances before the eventual, "Not them," from Ben, positioned at the front window until the gentle rumble of the engine in the drive sets everyone in motion.

Surprisingly, it's Davy who beats everyone to the door, opening it, revealing Mum mid-reach. From the sofa, you watch first as surprise then love chase away her momentary shock. Shaky arms come up as she enfolds Davy in a hug, murmuring softly to him. He returns the embrace, the muscles in his arms tensing as he squeezes her back. Michael and Helen drop quick kisses on her cheeks before slipping past her into the front garden. The three of you decided last night how you'd help when everyone came home from the birth centre. Their job is to help the moms bring Dad and the new pups in. You job is to get everyone fed and settled. There's soup for Dad, full plates for Mama and Mum, and two bottles ready.

While the elder twins bring in the younger twins, you let the triplets greet Mum and then Mama and Dad as they come through the door. All three adults give all three teens the same treatment: whispered words and tender hugs and kisses. It's a much more joyous return from the birthing centre than the triplets have seen your parents have before. All they've known is the litters Dad lost. You want them to be able to celebrate this miracle.

Though the elder twins bring the new ones in, it's the triplets who are officially introduced to them first, lifting each baby into the crook of their neck for just a moment to let the baby smell them, imprint their scent, and know this is family. Watching the ritual your parents established when the first twins were born, telling the triplets, "They aren't our babies, they're your babies too. You'll be here to love them and guide them. To look out for them. And one day, when we're gone, you'll be there for each other. Family."

Hearing it again, you realize your parents always stressed family, but they never said pack. You know many people see them as synonymous terms, but Mama was a literature major at uni, and you were raised with the importance of using the right words. You know there is a reason they use family instead of pack. You wish you understood what it was.

When you finally have a chance to be introduced, you take each baby from Michael, Grant first then Amelia, holding their little heads close, whispering the same thing you've only said five times, "You are more than my sibling. You are part of me, and that will never change. I will love you and support you and care for you always." Each reverent phrase accompanied by a kiss to the baby's temple before passing the child off to one of your parents.

Michael and Helen swing through the kitchen and pick up the bottles to feed the babies. You all remember how tired Dad is after a delivery, so you wrap an arm around his waist in the guise of holding him close after the successful delivery, Mum and Mama slowly trailing after you. You settle them all at the table, then join them to catch them up on how the household has fared in their absence.

You hadn't had a chance to talk with them when you first arrived, and now they ask why you're home. "Clearly you couldn't have expected this," Mum huffs a laugh.

"No," you smile indulgently at first her then Dad, "this was a pleasant surprise."

The question of why you're here, now, is tied up in feelings about your team you don't quite understand and aren't sure how to process, so you don't answer it. Hopefully your parents are too fatigued to notice, but it feels like Dad is watching you pick at your fingers even though his eyes are on his food and the doorway through which you can hear Michael and Helen teaching the triplets how to hold and feed the pups. Mum and Mama must catch on something too - your avoidance, your nervous tic - and blatantly watch you over their plates. "Did something happen with your team?" Mum whispers, keeping this conversation to the kitchen.

A shoulder rises and falls. Your lips twist for a moment. Small movements there and gone belie the mess of emotions you don't know how to name.

Mama's hand on yours, a warm weight tethering you. "I think we need to talk when the rest are in the nest and the pups are sleeping." You can only nod.

"Dunno if ye heard, but the lass's Da had his pups," Soap whispers into the quiet evening. All he receives is a grunt in response. He's wrapped in Ghost's arms, Ghost's knot slowly deflating in his ass. A cock in the ass is one thing. Heat and stretch. The burn pleasant, a successful workout. An alpha's knot is an altogether different experience. Heat hot enough to scorch if you're unlucky. A stretch too far to be comfortable for either party, despite biology at play. Micro tears and burst capillaries. But he and Gaz do this for Ghost and will do it for Price in a few months if you aren't pack by then. It's one way they help the pack with balance.

Soap keeps up his running commentary in these stolen moments when Ghost is lucid, unconsumed by his instincts. "Price said 'e thinks she may be open ta courtin' when we get back." The arm around his waist grips tighter, and Ghost's scent goes briney with his arousal, a perfect compliment to Soap's own marine notes. "Ye like tha', huh, havin' Ren as oor own 'mega?" He knows the other man wants you. They all want you. And Ghost has been vocal this rut, calling out your name. Soap overhead Price's side of yesterday's call with you. Could hear a tinny version of you voice through the phone. The sadness there unmistakable. He knows Price is playing the long game. He only wished he knew how it will all play out.

Things are dark, closed, safe by the time your parents pull you from the nest. The pups and triplets are fast asleep, but Helen startles from half-slumber and Michael turns from his screen. "Just need to chat with your sister before she heads back to base," Dad tells them. "Can ya watch the pups? We'll be in the kitchen, yeah?" Michael nods, back to scrolling through his phone in the dim room. Helen scoots into the space Mama left next to the new pups, her body a gentle barrier to the nest's edge.

In the kitchen, the quiet feels oppressive. The lights don't make the room warm and inviting, instead you're on the wrong side of an interrogation, like when your parents caught you sneaking in from a party when you were in Lower Sixth. A butterfly under glass. Pinned by the weight of their knowing gazes.

The air takes on weight. There's some silent conversation between the moms and Dad. You remember the looks they shared when you told them about being on the boards on base. Finally, you crack. "What?" you ask, nervous and unsure of your footing.

"Baby," Dad starts, "why are you here?"

You avoided the question earlier but know they won't let you deflect now. "We'll, the team had leave, so I came home." The omission is deafening.

"Ya didn't want to take leave with yer team?" Mum asks. "Get ta know them without all the trainin' ya do?"

Somehow they've mastered the art of seeing past your artifice, and if you don't start telling them now, Mama will cut through your bullshit faster than a dog can lick a dish. You shift uncomfortably. This is somehow worse than the conversations you had in your teens about sex and consent and your heats and an alpha's ruts. Your jaw clenches briefly before you force yourself to relax. "Well, I'm here cause it isn't really leave fer the others. One of the pack alphas has his rut, and the whole pack takes a week to handle it together." You don't rush because if you go too fast and have to repeat yourself, you will self-immolate.

Mama blinks while Mum stares at Dad. Clear whatever planned conversation they had, this is not the information they expected you to share. "Er," Mama says, "that's very... progressive of them, yeah?" She recovers quickly because she asks, "Aren't they on suppressants?"

You shake your head. "Captain Price said they only use 'em during missions. Keeps 'em from throwin' anyone off valance for too long." Dad nods, and you hope he's remembering your bad reactions.

He's the one who breaks the silence next. "How do ya feel about them doin' that? Takin' off together, without you, to handle their alpha's rut?"

You think he's asking about you, but he could be asking about your omega, and you hate that you don't know which one answers when you say, honestly, "I miss them."

Mum hums and Mama nods along, but it's still Dad who speaks. "Have ya given any more thought to the other half of yer Captain's offer?"

There's no denying now this is about you being 141's omega, being more than teammates. Your hands fiddle in your lap. The longer you wait, the more obvious your answer seems to be, to them and to yourself. "I don't want things to change," you finally whisper, sounding so much younger. Vulnerable in a way you haven't let yourself be in too many years to count.

"Hey, pretty girl," Dad croons. You can't help but look at him. "Captain Price seems like a good alpha. We know he's a good Captain and a good man. From what you've told us, the whole team supports you and wants you to be a successful soldier. They're already looking out for you in their way."

Your parents let you sit with that truth for a few quiet minutes before Mama tells you, "Seems like they've shown interest. And it looks like your omega is interested. You deserve a pack of your own, honey. You've already put so much faith in these men. Maybe it's time to take that last leap, yeah?"

Mum chimes in with, "You'll always be our sweet girl, but you deserve a pack who will love you in a way we can't." There are tears lining her eyes, but she blinks them away before they fall. "We want you happy."

When they head back to the nest, you don't immediately follow. You sit in the stillness and listen, really listen, to your omega. How the team makes her feel safe, desired, cared for. How she wants what your parents have: the love and support and eventual family.

You know the 141 wouldn't make you retire. They'll support your career, and in that way, they're already better than most packs you could find. If rumors spread about you sleeping your way into the team because you're their omega, you know the pack would have your back. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To be seen as who you are, not what you are?

Isn't it worth it to try?

next

~~

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed @honestlymassivetrash @thebumbqueen @maliamaiden @mordacioust @bina-passion-fruit @kittygonap

[girlfromflor]

everybody loves kyle, he's the best😫😫

Kyle Garrick who is quite literally the definition of a perfect man. Handsome. Endearing. Charming. Every other imaginable enchanting word in the book. Friends with everyone; admired by everyone.

Smiles like the fucking sun.

Talks with a certain cadence that makes anyone warm, curls each syllable in a way that washes over you and settles thick in your veins.

Sweeter than anyone you’ve ever known; tender, thoughtful. The type of man to help an old lady cross the street, in the most cliche way. Looks out for anyone, places his hand on the small of your back to maneuver you safely out of people’s way. Walks on the side of the street closest to the road, covers sharp edges of tables with his palms, so you don’t run into them.

Listens to every word you say, and remembers it all, despite how mundane it is. Seems to know little details about people’s lives, asks about it like he really cares. ‘How’s the little princess?’ he asks the local grocery store cashier, like he fucking knew their daughter.

Or asks ‘How’s your shoulder feeling?’ to the local butcher, apparently he knew that the butcher threw his shoulder out, brought him ointment to put on his sore muscles.

Smarter than anyone you’ve ever known, knowledge seems to come naturally to him. Solves stressful situations on assignments without a second thought, handles your insignificant civilian problems for you in seconds. Does everything in his power to make your life easier.

On top of it all he’s strong, resilient, stalwart. Power radiated off his form, curved over him with each dip and ridge of his muscles. An unrecognizable strength that most people couldn’t obtain. Disciplined. Seasoned.

Kyle Garrick who is the face of respect, hasn’t ever made a sexual remark towards you, honors your boundaries.

Kyle Garrick who is the complete opposite in bed.

Harsh. Unforgiving. Perverted.

You’re utterly surprised the first you find yourself pressed against his bedroom wall, his hands meaty, possessive, claiming against any flesh he can get his hands on. Squeezing your body so tightly in his palms it hurts, leaves your skin aching and burning in leave of his touch. Bites at your skin with strong teeth, intends to leave the imprint of his molars on you for days.

You’re not entirely sure how you expected sex with him would be like, but you didn’t think you would be crying into the sheets, his chest pressed to your back, thighs shaking weakly under you almost going limp from his torment. Hadn’t even fucked his cock into you yet, your previous orgasms coaxed out of you from his rough fingers and smooth tongue.

Slammed his fingers into you repeatedly, curved then inside of you like he was trying to map out each ridge of your sopping pussy. Lapped and sucked at your cunt and throbbing clit until you were screaming from overstimulation and one too many orgasms.

When he finally split you in half, spread you wide over his fat cock you couldn’t even think, couldn’t even say anything more but babble. Brain mush, melted, and ruined.

And he was entirely too smug, whispered cocky words into yours ears. It would’ve pissed you off, but you couldn’t do anything but whine, eyes teary and blurry.

“Shh, gotta be quiet, love,” He rasped against your ear, grinding his hips against your cervix, “Don’t want the neighbors to know how much you love my cock, huh?”

Your fingers were fisted tight against the sheets, opened your mouth to retaliate, but he slammed his hips just in time, your voice ripped from your chest.

“She’s takin’ it so well, makin’ so many pretty noises, desperate for me to fuck you this whole time, pretty bird?” He mused, chuckling dark against your back.

“Kyle— shut up.” You whimpered.

“Shh, I’m not talkin’ to you.” His thumb stamped against your clit, like he was talking to your fucking pussy, “She needed me bad, didn’t she?”

[quillcraftconquer]

Simon X Reader

(K9 Series, from reader perspective)

TW: mentions of animal death, Abuse, emotional Distress/Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Violence, Sexism.

_______________________________________________________

Another dog trotted past the window—a spaniel, I think—its tail wagging like a banner as it practically dragged its owner along.

Panzer had never been one for leashes. The one time I tried, he gnawed through it in minutes. Despite his wild streak, he never strayed far. He slept curled between my legs, his head resting on my thigh, always close, always mine.

Or at least, he used to.

My lips thinned as I leaned my head against the cool glass of the hotel lobby window. Simon had still been asleep when I woke. I’d taken his keys, packed up my things, and loaded the car before making my way downstairs.

The lobby had been bustling earlier, but now, with breakfast service over, it had emptied out. I considered grabbing something to eat—until I caught sight of the ground breakfast meat. My stomach twisted.

The first meal they gave me after I was captured was meat. I had already taken a few bites before I noticed the familiar tan fur clinging to it.

I haven’t touched it since. I can’t. 

I checked my watch again. Our flight was in a few hours, and Simon was still nowhere in sight. I couldn’t blame him. If I could sleep that soundly, I would have.

I wanted to ask him how he did it.

Price had let me read his file. I knew what he’d been through—how Roba had used him, broken him. I knew about his home life, his father, how his mother and brother were killed.

And yet, somehow, he slept.

I never could. Restless nights drove me to rooms with locking doors—Price’s office, the bathrooms, even a supply closet. Something about having the power to keep them out made sleep come easier.

The memory of Simon’s face when the door clicked shut flickered through my mind. I wanted to open it again, to tell him it wasn’t his fault. I wanted to say, Surely, you understand.

But maybe he didn’t.

Maybe he was stronger than me. Maybe he didn’t need a locked door.

Sleep had been just another thing Panzer helped me with. His presence was a comfort—always watching, always guarding.

Before I could dwell on it, Simon rounded the corner. His phone was clenched in his hand, duffel bag in the other, his jaw tight, anger flickering in his eyes.

He wasn’t wearing his mask.

I didn’t know why he wore it in the first place, and I knew my confusion showed. Johnny had noticed once, chuckling as he toyed with a tangle of wiring.

“Nothing special underneath there. You get used to it,” he’d said.

Lately, that seemed to be everyone’s answer. The base psychologist. Johnny. Even Gaz, after I flinched at his touch.

You’ll get used to it. It’ll get better. It takes time.

But what if I didn’t?

What if no amount of time could fix the year and a half I’d lost? What if I never got used to it? What if, ten years from now, I still missed Panzer just as much?

Would that be okay?

I wanted someone to tell me it would. That it was okay if it never got better. That I didn’t have to move on, or heal, or let go.

That I could just be, and that would be enough.

Simon scooped up the keys from the table, letting out a relieved sigh as he sank into the booth.

“Thought you left,” he mumbled, head tilting back against the seat.

His words caught me off guard, though they shouldn’t have. Maybe it was the way he said it.

I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t have left. I wanted to ask Why would I? Where would I even go? But the thoughts tangled in my head, stuck somewhere between my mind and my mouth. Every time I opened it, nothing came out. It was like my body had made the decision for me—Don’t say it. Just let it go.

I hated that. I hated that silence had become second nature. That it always felt easier to swallow things down than to let them out.

Simon shifted beside me, head rolling to the side until his gaze met mine. He didn’t say anything. Neither did I.

There were things I wanted to ask—questions that had been sitting on my tongue for weeks, maybe longer. About him. About the mask. About how he could just close his eyes and sleep while my mind never let me.

But I couldn’t form the words.

So I did the only thing I could.

I lifted a finger to my cheek, tapping it lightly. A quiet gesture, but it was enough.

Simon’s brows pulled together in confusion. His gaze flicked between my face and my hand like he wasn’t sure what I was getting at.

I hesitated, then reached out, gently tapping his cheek. The contact was brief, barely there, but his eyes sharpened with recognition.

“In the bag,” he said after a moment. “Can’t wear it through the terminal.”

That was it. No further explanation.

I missed Johnny’s ramblings, the way he could fill a room with words without needing anyone else to speak. I missed Gaz’s patience. I missed the space Price gave me—no questions, no pressure, just the offer of room to breathe.

I leaned my head back against the window as I watched the world move beyond it. People passed in a blur—couples dragging suitcases, parents corralling restless children, business travelers walking with purpose. Lives moving forward, unburdened.

I envied them.

Minutes passed, maybe more, before Simon finally spoke.

“We need to go.”

I didn’t move right away, lingering in the moment, as if staying just a little longer might change something. But it didn’t.

With a quiet exhale, I pushed myself upright and followed him out.

The car ride to the airport was as silent as the first time. The plane ride even more so. No conversation, no questions, just the steady hum of the engine and the occasional shift of Simon in his seat. I stared out the window, watching the world stretch out below, shrinking into something distant.

By the time we landed and made our way back to base, Price was waiting for us.

He stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his stance stiff with displeasure.

Not at me.

At Simon.

Price didn’t say a word as he turned on his heel and led us inside. The walk to his office felt longer than it was, the echo of our boots against the floor filling the silence..

Simon stepped inside, and Price gestured towards the chair next to the door.

“Sit,” he ordered.

I did. Price shut the door behind him with more force than necessary, but it did nothing to block the sound.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked. “Putting your hands on a superior officer?”

Simon's answer was calm. “He had it coming.”

Price exhaled sharply, “You don’t get to decide that.”

“They call her K9, Price. You know why?”

There was a long pause.

Simon’s voice dropped lower, more bitter now. “They don’t call her K9 because of the goddamn dog, Price. They call her K9 because they think she’s a bitch. That’s how they see her. That’s how they treat her. I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was some dumbass joke, some stupid fucking reference, but now I know.” His voice rose angrily.  “I know what they really mean. And I’m not just gonna let them walk all over her.”

There was a long pause.

Price finally spoke, his voice hard again. “She didn’t need you to fight for her, Simon.”

“I’m not fighting for her,” Simon shot back, “I’m just not standing by and letting them treat her like shit.

“If you think you know best,” Price said, his tone almost resigned, “then fine. You want to take responsibility for her? Congratulations. You’ll be the one to bring her along on the next mission. You’ll train with her, run missions with her—everything. She’s your responsibility now, Simon.”

Finally, the door to the office creaked open. Simon’s frustration was palpable as he stalked out, his brow furrowed in irritation. Without a word, I grabbed my bag and followed him into the barracks.

Johnny was in the middle of tossing a small ball in the air when he spotted us. His grin was wide, eyes lighting up.

“Welcome back, K9.”

Simon whirled around, voice sharp. “Don’t call her that.”

Johnny blinked, his smile faltering in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I said so. Pick a different damn callsign if you want to call her something.”

Johnny didn’t miss a beat. “Hushpuppy.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed, and he growled low, “No.”

I couldn’t help it—my lips twitched into a small smile as Johnny winked at me, his focus returning to the ball as he sent it spinning in the air.

__

Tags: (Sorry if I missed you!)

@skeletonsucker, @trulovekay, @enfppuff, @cqerrz

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Your obsession with the four men kept growing inside you and two days later, you found yourself once again close to the surface. It was easy to spot them, the water around you and them was deserted otherwise. Well, at least if you didn’t count the fish and other sea creatures.

Always keeping out of sight, you watched as they enjoyed their time in the water. Whether they were swimming, diving, snorkeling or just playing around, you stayed nearby. One on hand, you wanted to keep them safe. The sea was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, having to fight against bigger predators daily. But…there was something pulling you to them as well. When you first saw them, you were scared. After all, every time you met humans before, they tried to take you. Wrapped their hands around you, sometimes even used nets. But you always got away somehow.

“Oi! Johnny! Come back here!” You peeked out from behind the rock you were using to hide and saw one of the men on a floating thingy, slowly drifting out to sea. He was fast asleep, not realizing how far off he had gotten. Suddenly, your heart started to beat faster as you realized that he began to drift out to an area that was known for its strong currents.

Not thinking, you dove under the water and swam to him as quickly as you could. By the time you reached him, he seemed to have woken up, but he had also been caught by a current. Although he wasn’t threshing around, you could sense the panic boiling inside him.

You breached the surface right next to him and could immediately hear the others yelling at him to stay calm. But when the man caught the movement next to him and saw you, he shrieked and tumbled off the weird thing. The moment, he hit the water, he was pulled away by the current. You quickly grabbed him under his arms and pulled him back up, using your fin to keep you both afloat. “Wha-” He sputtered, looking at you with wide eyes.

You looked right back, still holding him, before motioning for him to hold his breath. The moment he did, you dove back under and pulled him along, using the strength of your fin to navigate the both of you out of the current and back towards the beach, where the others were still waiting.

As soon as it was shallow enough, you let go of the man and turned around, about to swim away, when someone else called out. “Wait!” You hesitated, glancing back to see an older man with a beard, slowly walking toward you. His hands were raised and you quickly realized that he was the man that freed you. When he noticed that you weren’t about to bolt away, he lowered his hands again and smiled at you so sweetly. “Thank you. For saving that idiot.” He pointed to the still gasping individual, who, even though he looked as if he had just swam an atlantisthon, still managed to grin at you and send you a wink. “Aye, thank you bonnie.”

You were quickly joined by the other two, but the one that spoke first, made sure they didn’t get too close, so they wouldn’t spook you. “Do you…Can you understand us?” You slowly nodded, and the man chuckled, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “That’s good. My name’s John. These are Johnny, Simon, and Kyle.” You took all of them in. They looked like warriors, well built and covered in scars - some more than others - but they also looked so…nice. Not something you ever thought of the mer-warriors. Quietly, almost too quiet, you whispered your own name back, your voice breaking, not used to you speaking. The man repeated it just as quietly, almost as if trying how it sounded from his lips and you couldn’t help but smile at all of them.

And so, an unlikely friendship began. Every day, you would join them on the beach, show them tricks, win breath-holding contests and play with them. At some point, late at night, you found yourself sitting in the shallow water with the silent one of the group. Both of you so still, that fish had started to swim around you. With a smile, you started to play with it, not noticing Simon staring at you. “You’re beautiful.” Wide-eyed, you turned to look at him, surprised to see him smiling softly at you. Your mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say, but he just leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, before getting to his feet and trudging back to the building on the beach. “See you tomorrow.”

The next day, you noticed them growing more affectionate. Their touches more intent and lingering for longer. Their bodies were suddenly much closer to yours and their eyes were constantly on you. But when John gently cupped your face while the others were getting food from inside, you pulled back, fear in your eyes. He looked surprised, stunned, and confused. “I-I’m sorry if that was too much. I promise I would never do anything without your permission.” Your chest heaved as you breathed quickly, fear clawing at your heart. “W-When humans kiss us…we…we become human too.” John’s eyes widened and he stumbled back, stuttering further apologies, but you just turned around and swam away, still scared. But at the same time, there was a small voice in the back of your head, asking if it truly would be so bad to be a human. To be with them.

A/N: Still inspired by @beloveds-embrace. I love you!!

@totalapathy @soniiyi @littleindulgences @terrifiedanimegirl @harmonysonata @dotmistbird @z-wantstowrite @small-mean-dwarf @kthehoeforfictionalmen @limeleag

[quietnpleasant]

i think tf141 cuddle pile (either platonic or not) would be wonderful

you’re cuddled up on just one at first, mister johnny soap mactavish himself. ever the touchy one, he begged to nap with you in the rec room. he whined about being tired, the both of you having nothing as far as you knew for the rest of the day but dinner, and he said his back was ‘right killin’ him’ and he thought that if he was able to snuggle with someone it’d make him relax enough to sleep. you asked if it would be better to go in a private room, but he just wiggled his eyebrows and tried to make a snarky comment. of course, the pillow flying at his face at mach speed didn’t allow for him to get it out. after making a pile of spare blankets and stiff throw pillows, johnny even went to his and your rooms to grab your sleeping pillows. you wondered out loud in fear if simon or john would get mad at the mess, but johnny brushed it off with a nonchalant “they’ll get in on it or get over it, lass!” you sighed, and gave in to it as you began to settle in the messy pillow nest he made.

kyle was the first to discover you and johnny. he had been walking by to head to the mess hall for a late lunch, having gotten caught up in the gym doing extra reps with one of his teammates, and stumbled upon the messy collapsed-pillow-fort-looking pile with you two in the center. johnny’s head pressed on your chest with a protective clutch around your waist as he snored, and if you weren’t fast asleep yourself you’d be beating him with a hard pillow for drooling on your uniform. kyle watched for a moment in curiosity before shrugging, deciding to crawl under the blanket with you both. he looked for an open spot for a moment before he settled his head on johnny’s back. the scot barely moved, but mumbled a “hi garrick” in his sleepy tone before returning to his dreamy state.

simon is next, reports on the last mission in hand to be turned in. he was just coming from his room, and had to pass the rec room on the way to the office, and was shocked to see three bodies snoozing on the floor. he was about to shout as soon as he saw the boots sticking out under the blanket, but he noticed the familiar mohawk, and then noticed it was you under johnny and kyle lounged on him. and then he began to grin like a kid finding a candy stash. taking off silently, he raced to grab his own pillows and came back, whispering to wake you up to let him hold you. everyone grumbled for a second at having time readjust, but once you all were back in your familiar postions—with the addition of a warm body under you instead of the cold floor—you were all content.

john had been looking for all of you for an hour by the time he found you, and he was almost ready to fly off the handle because of it. when he rounded the hall with stomping boots, ready to rip you all a new one when he was told what was going on by a shithead newbie, his feet stuttered when he came upon the scene before him. you’d all shifted by then to mold together easier. simon was still under you, but johnny had slid to the side of you two to hold both of you, and kyle had taken to holding you and simon from the other side. john is a tough man, but he doesn’t consider himself a cold one. he noticed the reports simon had failed to turn in, the original mission of his, and he decided with a sigh to quietly take the folders and return them to the office himself. of course, though, he made his journey quick and returned to you all in record time. knowing he’s a furnace of a man, he stayed on top of the blanket as he crawled to replace where johnny once laid.

you stirred awake as the fourth pair of arms surrounded you, and the sight of your captain had your eyes popping wide with fear. “c-captain, i’m so sorry—“ you began to babble, hurrying to sit up, but john’s arms held you down tight. “lay down lass, s’alright,” he mumbled, his own voice quiet with sleepiness. you hesitantly settled back in, glancing over to see kyle’s eyes cracked and a soft smile on his lips. johnny and simon’s hands rubbed soothing circles on you as john shifted to get more comfortable. you shifted a moment, before finally settling back down once more, soothed.

a moment of silence spread over you all as sleep began to take over again, before you heard john mumble, “‘sides, i know it’s johnny to blame. he’ll run everyone’s laps in the morning.”

“WOT THE FOCK?!” johnny yelled up as he sat straight up to look down at a grinning price. three angry voices hissed a “SHHHHHHHH” at him, and he stared with wide-eyed shock at his traitorous snuggle buddies before he begrudgingly settled back down. you just barely heard him mumble, “dinnae know snugglin’ was insubordination, keep my fockin’ ideas for relaxin’ to meself next time.”

despite john’s threat, cuddle piles became way more frequent between you all and everyone was always welcome to join :)

[write-by-night222]

Cherry Coke & Whiskey: Hospital Visit

TF141 x Fem!Injured!Reader

Warnings: female reader, poly!TF141, hospitals, mentions of trauma, anxiety, comfort, mild smut (no sex, just groping), pda, I think that's it?

had an the second mri on my shoulder today. got me thinking while I was laying there.

(Reader) had to go to a civilian hospital to get some MRI done on her injured shoulder. The team, knowing damn well how anxious she gets in the general public after having been in the binds of the military for so long, decide to go with her.

(Reader) had to be there early in the afternoon. Two hours before she had to be there, Price pulled Soap's jeep around and made sure she was ready to go.

"'Ey, come on, we gotta go." Price tells her, finding her in the common room, messing with her phone. Her hair was down, something somewhat unusual for her. Sweatpants covered her legs, a loose t-shirt covering her torso.

"Price, it's two hours before my appointment. I can get there in an hour."

"Yeah, speeding in your Mustang. I'm drivin' you. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz are already in the car." (Reader) rolls her eyes a little before grabbing her jacket off the back of the couch and pulling it on.

When they finally made it to the hospital, everyone could see the tension in her body. She was uncomfortable, even just in the parking lot.

"Shit, why's no one know how to park around here? Everyone's taking up two damn spots, there isn't even snow on the pavement." Price grunts out, driving around the parking lot, looking for a spot.

"You might need to go to the parking garage. Looks like these are full." Gaz speaks up, pointing to the four story parking garage. Price sighs, reluctantly turning on the turn signal to pull into the parking garage.

"How freaked out do you think people are gonna be when you guys walk in?" (Reader) mumbles sarcastically.

"We're in street clothes, lass." Soap reminds her, acting like he's stating the obvious. Price was wearing a pair of jeans and an old army t-shirt with an army green hoodie pulled over it. For once, he left the boonie hat in his office, longer brown buzz cut on full display. Gaz has on a pair of black sweatpants, a navy blue t-shirt with a black zip-up hoodie over top of it. Soap's dark wash jeans cling to him, the blue hoodie doing nothing to conceal the fact he was well built. Ghost looked like some stalker, his ghost mask being replaced with a black disposable mask covering the lower half of his face, black jeans, and just a black t-shirt, the sleeves stretching over his biceps.

"I can pass as just a very athletic civilian, it's blantly obvious that you four are military. If nothing else the boots give it away." (Reader) has on a pair of slip on shoes, knowing she'll have to take them off for the MRI.

"Ah whatever, love." Ghost mumbles and Price finally pulls into a parking spot.

"Use our first names in the hospital, yeah sweetheart?" John Price tells her, patting her thigh softly. She nods, John putting the vehicle into park.

After the walk to the hospital, they arrive at the front desk, the receptionist staring for a couple seconds at the well-build women in front of her, and then the four tall, muscular men standing behind her.

"(Reader) (Last Name), 'm here for an MRI."

"Uhm, are these men with you?" The receptionist, her name tag says Mary, was an older women with thick glasses, wearing a knit sweater looks up from the women to the men behind her.

"Yeah, they're my uhm... team mates." (Reader)'s gaze flickers behind her, not quite knowing how to introduce or adress the four men behind her. Mary clicks away at the keyboard, John and Simon's heads on swivel, checking out the main entrance of the hospital. Johnny softly pats (Reader) on her uninjured shoulder, reassuring her. Kyle give the receptionist a look, he knows that the hospital will probably label her as a possible trafficking situation until they see her file says military.

"Ah! You're military, that makes more sense now." (Reader) simply just nods her head, dread crawling up her throat. Mary hands her the paperwork she had printed and gives her instructions to the radiology department.

Paperwork was filled out, the team now sits in the main radiology department waiting room. Simon's arm drapped across the back of the bench he and (Reader) are sitting down. Simon hasn't said much, but he knows what she needs right now isn't words from him, it's just knowing he's here. The muscles of her body are still pulled tight.

Johnny's hand interlocks with her, squeezing it softly. John paces the waiting room, Kyle just sits in a chair near Johnny's. They had been getting weird looks the entire time, yet none of them even paid the other patients any mind.

A big male nurse come out of a locked door and calls (Reader)'s name. All three of the men sitting stood up, John walking to stand behind (Reader).

"They're my teammates." (Reader) grunts out, the anxiety in her obvious to the four men behind her. She hands the clipboard to the nurse, Johnny brushing up against her uninjured shoulder, trying to relax her.

"Guess it's good the MRI department is slow today." The nurse motions for them to follow. (Reader) hands the nurse the clipboard with paperwork on it, he takes it and leads them to a smaller waiting room. "My name is Jason. I need you to go into one of these changing rooms, remove all of your clothing other then your underwear on the bottom, change into these pants and this gown, it ties in the back. I'll be out to get you in a little bit." (Reader) nods, and takes the clothing from him the nurse disappearing into a backroom, locked with a keycard.

"You need help gettin' changed sweetheart?" John asks, his voice soft and smooth. (Reader) nods and John takes the clothing out of her hands, motioning her to the closest changing room. The other three men sit down in the waiting room.

John locks the changing room door, before setting the clothing down on the bench before putting his hands on (Reader)'s jacket.

"I know your anxious n I don't blame you." He keeps his voice soft, gentle. His hands slide the jacket off her shoulders. "You've been in the military a long time. Joined the army fresh outta highschool." He sets jacket down before moving to the hem of her shirt. "Somehow, made your way to our team." Her shirt drops to the bench too. "It's been a long time since you've been in a place like this. But you're safe, alright?" He presses a gentle kiss to her neck, noticing all the scars and marks on her back and shoulders but not saying anything about them. He undoes her bra, sliding it off. "We won't let anything happen to you." He grabs the gown, opening it and sliding it on her body, tying it at the base of her neck and again right around the curve of her waist. His hands slide under, untying her sweatpants. He hears her let out a small whine.

(Reader) wasn't weak or frail, not by any means. Just as capable as any of them on the field and on base, but she struggled being in normal civilian life a lot more then the others. She was used to the structure of the military, she craved it. She had a rough past, joining the military to escape. He knew part of her trauma made her anxious in hospitals. She needed a stable, steady hand right now, and John was completely willing to be that.

"Be good n strong through this and the team will have a treat for you, Sargent." She nods her head, slipping back into her more military mindset. John pushes her sweatpants off her legs and pulls off her socks, replacing them with the hospital standard grippy socks and then sliding the canvas pants on her, tying them in the front. "There you go, (Reader). You're safe, ok?"

She nods her head as John gathers up her clothes and puts them in the bag the nurse provided and carries them out to the small waiting room. She follows behind him, sitting down next to Johnny. Sure he was usually energetic, eager, excited. But right now his main focus was in getting (Reader) through this. He interlocked his fingers with hers, Kyle giving her a soft pat on the cheek, Simon squeezing her thigh before returning his hand to his lap. The sound of running water makes her turn her head, John pulling the lever on the water cooler that releases hot water into a disposable cup. He drops a tea bag in it and comes to sit next to all of them.

"You took out all your piercings, right love?" Simon's voice cuts through the silent room and she nods her head.

Only a little while later, Jason returns.

"Ok, (Reader), we're ready for you back in the room. You guys have to stay here, she'll be out in roughly 45 minutes." Johnny presses a desperate kiss to her lips, lasting a few seconds longer then necessary. Gaz simply squeezes her side when she stands up, giving her a reassuring grin. John steals a kiss to her hand, Ghost only nods to her. It's all she needs from them. She was no child, she didn't need to be coddled, but the men weren't about to let her go through something they know she hated without a little affection. She follows Jason, disappearing between behind the door.

"Alright, no metal right?"

"Right."

"You don't need any contrast for this one, so just walk through this metal detector here to make sure you're good." No sound arises from the metal detector as she walks through it. "Good, good. What kinda music you want while you're in there?"

She thinks for a second, her mind going to the nights at base. The common room filled with the warm sound of on old country vinyl spinning on John's record player. Only the lamps on, bathing the room in a warm, soft light. John sitting in his leather arm chair like it was a thrown, glass of whiskey in his hand, cigar smoking between his lips, one leg resting on the other. His gaze heavy on the scene in front of him. Johnny making a drink, making sure the record was spinning right. Kyle's eyes following Simon's hands running over my body as he spun me around in the center of the common room.

"Country please. Classic country."

"You bet."

Soon she was positioned on the MRI table how they wanted her, earplugs in, headphones over top of them. Emergency ball in her uninjured arm, heavy fabric covered plastic cage over her injured shoulder. Jason presses the button to make the table slide into the tube. The MRI started, clicks, beeps, and hums swirling around her as the slow sound of classic country soothing her mind. Eyes growing heavy, the scene of late nights in the common room playing behind her eyes.

Her body jolts awake, feeling the table moving underneath her.

'Holy hell, I fell asleep.' (Reader) thinks to herself as the table is fully slid out of the machine. Jason takes the cage off her shoulder, she sets the emergency ball down. Headphones off, she pulls the ear plugs out of her ears, as he lowers the table.

"Ok, you're free to go as soon as you get get dressed. Your doctor should call you in a few days with the results." She nods as she pushes herself to stand on the floor, following him out. She reaches the waiting room, her men still the only ones there. Johnny and Simon's hands were interlaced, Kyle's head resting on John's shoulder as the older captian watched the news on the small TV.

"'Ey bonnie, you survived!" Johnny says, standing up fron the chair and pulling her into a hug.

"C'mon I'll help ya change." Simon grunts, throwing away the paper cup as he leads her to the changing room. The door locks with a click, Simon settinf the bag of her belongings down on the bench. Large fingers make quick work of untying the knots holding the gown together.

"Did *kiss*, such a *kiss*, good *kiss* fucking job." He pressed sloppy kisses to the back of her neck, right along the spin, hands sliding the gown off her shoulders. His large hands come up to her chest, squeezing her tits in his hands.

"I mmmhm, fell asleep in the machine." She admits, her voice breathy.

"Atta fuckin' girl." He mumbles, pressing one more messy sloppy kiss to the back of her neck, right where her shoulder curves up into his neck. His hands still rubbing her tits. M'kay, jus' a little taste of what's coming to ya later." He pulls away, sliding her bra on her shoulders, buckling it in the back. Then he pulls om her shirt, tugging off the hospital pants and socks before replacing them with hers. As he pulls her jacket over her shoulders, he kisses her on the lips. "There ya go love." He tosses the used clothing into the hamper. Simon leads her out of the changing room.

"Let's get outta here, sweet girl." Kyle tells her as he presses a kiss on her lips after standing up from the chair. They all make their way out of the hospital and into the parking garage. When they get to the jeep, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon sitting in the back, John sitting in the driver seat and (Reader) sitting in the passenger seat. The jeep roars to life as John pushes the key to turn in the ignition. He leans over, his large calloused hand catching (Reader)'s chin, tilting her face towards him, catching her lips with his own in a messy, sloppy, teeth clashing kiss. When he finally breaks away, both their lips are pink, (Reader)'s face flushed red. John backs the jeep out of the parking spot, getting out of the parking garage before pulling out of the parking lot. He makes his way to the highway, turning the opposite way they came from.

"Base is the other way, John." (Reader)'s voice is confused, wondering how in the world John forgot which way on the highway to go. He just chuckles, Simon speaking up from right behind her.

"We ain't going to base, love. We're going to my cabin. It's about 10 miles in the woods, no one will hear ya scream, pretty girl."

part two?

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

House of Shadows

Pairing: Task Force 141 x DiplomatsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Task force 141 breaks into your father's house looking for intel on Makarov, but instead of the diplomat in question they find you, his overly helpful daughter.

The morning air was crisp against the grand windows of the dining hall, the golden light filtering through sheer curtains. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as you made your way downstairs, dressed for the day, unaware that your quiet morning was about to be violently interrupted.

As you stepped into the dining room, you froze.

The air was heavy, charged with something electric and unseen. It took half a second for your eyes to register the men standing in the room—armored, masked, their weapons raised but silent. The kind of silent that made your heartbeat slam against your ribs. They moved like shadows, precise and calculated.

Your hands shot up instinctively, eyes flicking from one soldier to the next. They were good. The best. You recognized their tactical gear, the deadly efficiency of their stance. Task Force 141. You weren’t naive to what your father did. You knew the weight of his dealings, the kind of enemies he made.

And yet, despite the very real danger, you couldn’t help but notice them. The sharp blue eyes of the one with the mohawk—Soap, you thought. The way Gaz’s jaw was set, smooth but firm. Price, commanding with an effortless authority. And Ghost, the mystery wrapped in black and bone, unreadable behind his mask. It was maddening that in a moment like this, you found them attractive—though you weren’t stupid enough to dwell on it.

"He’s not here," you said, voice steady despite the way your breath hitched.

A figure stepped forward. Captain Price. His gaze was sharp beneath the brim of his hat, assessing you as if peeling back layers of pretense. "That so?" His tone was skeptical, unreadable.

"Yes. He left last night. I don’t know where he went."

Another man, taller, broader—Ghost. His skull mask made it impossible to read his expression, but the way he shifted his weight told you they weren’t buying it.

"We’ll be the judge of that," Ghost muttered, his voice a low, gravelly warning.

"I’m telling you the truth," you said, lowering your hands slightly. "I know what my father does. I know who he associates with, but I don’t have the kind of information you’re looking for."

Soap exchanged a glance with Gaz, then turned his attention back to you. "No offense, but that’s not good enough for us."

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay calm. "I might not have what you need, but I can show you something that does."

A flicker of interest passed through them.

"Go on," Price urged.

You nodded toward the study. "My father’s safe. He keeps files there—transactions, contacts. If he’s working with Makarov, there will be something."

Ghost’s eyes narrowed. "And why would you help us?"

You looked at him, unflinching. "Because I might not be like my father, but I know what kind of man Makarov is. If he’s involved, you need all the help you can get."

Price studied you for a beat longer before nodding. "Lead the way. But know this—if you try anything, we’ll know."

"I’m not an idiot," you muttered, turning on your heel as they fell into step behind you.

As you passed by Soap, you felt it—a ghost of a touch against the small of your back. Barely there, but enough for your skin to prickle. You turned your head slightly, only to find him smirking, eyes glinting in a way that made your stomach dip.

You led them down the hallway, your steps careful, aware that any sudden movement could be misinterpreted as a threat. Ghost trailed a few steps behind you, his presence silent but looming. Soap stayed closer, almost too close, but you weren’t in a position to complain.

Pushing open the door to your father’s study, you stepped aside to let them in. The room was immaculate—rich mahogany shelves lined with books, an old-fashioned globe sitting in the corner, and a desk that looked more like a museum piece than a workspace.

"The safe’s behind the painting," you said, gesturing toward a framed landscape above the fireplace.

Gaz moved first, lifting the painting off the wall to reveal a sleek, modern safe embedded into the paneling. He gave a low whistle. "Fancy."

Price turned to you. "Code?"

You hesitated. "I don’t—"

Before you could finish, Ghost had already moved, producing a small device from his tactical belt. He knelt by the safe, attaching the device to the keypad.

"Give me a sec," he murmured, fingers tapping a few commands. The device beeped, numbers flickering across its small screen as it worked its way through possible combinations.

Soap leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "So, what? You just happen to know your dear old dad is funding Makarov and didn’t think that was worth mentioning before now?"

You shot him a sharp look. "I said I wasn’t naive. Doesn’t mean I had proof. He never told me anything outright, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to demand answers."

"You live in the same house," Gaz pointed out.

"And that means what? That I automatically know every secret he’s keeping?" You scoffed. "You think people like him just leave classified documents lying around the dining table? He kept things compartmentalized. All I had were suspicions."

Ghost’s device beeped again, and the safe clicked open. He pulled the door back, revealing stacks of neatly arranged files, a few USB drives, and bundles of foreign currency. Price stepped forward, flipping through one of the files.

"Bingo," he muttered. "Transfers, offshore accounts, direct links to Makarov’s network."

Gaz exhaled. "Looks like we just hit the jackpot."

Soap gave a low chuckle. "Maybe she’s not as useless as we thought."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, you caught Ghost watching you, his gaze lingering a second too long before he turned back to the safe.

Price snapped the file shut. "We’re taking everything. But we’re not done here yet." He leveled you with a look. "Where does your father go when he doesn’t come home?"

You swallowed. "I don’t know exactly. But there’s one place he always talks about. A private estate outside Prague. I’ve never been, but… if he’s hiding, it’d be there."

Price nodded. "That’s our next move."

Ghost shut the safe, standing to his full height. "And what do we do with her?"

A tense silence followed. You suddenly felt very aware of how exposed you were. Price exchanged a look with Soap, then Ghost.

"We can’t leave her here," Gaz pointed out. "If her father comes back and finds the place torn apart, she’ll take the fall."

Soap smirked. "Guess she’s coming with us, then."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You said you wanted to help," Price reminded you. "Congratulations. You just enlisted."

Ghost’s voice was quieter, but sharper. "That means you do exactly as we say. No questions."

You crossed your arms. "I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I?"

Soap grinned. "Smart girl."

You exhaled, heart pounding. There was no turning back now.