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#also I just enjoyed putting Kyle through it
1moreoffkeyanthem · 5 months
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌
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Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.
I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst
Word Count: 2.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.
He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.
Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.
It’s bloody fucking brilliant.
Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.
With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.
He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.
They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.
You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.
You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.
Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.
He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.
But he does. Because why not?
Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.
You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.
Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.
Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.
Your…son.
Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.
He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.
“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?
The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.
“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.
He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.
It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.
“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.
Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”
John Price
John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.
He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.
Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.
Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.
John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.
He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.
Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.
John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.
If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.
He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,
“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.
Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.
John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.
“You have the wrong number, bud.”
The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”
“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”
John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.
“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.
This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.
And each month is fucking agony.
When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.
But fuck it. He’s here.
Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.
John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.
The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.
“John,” you breathe.
He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.
“Is that—”
“Yours?”
Fuck.
John glances up into your eyes and swallows.
You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.
“It is,” you confirm.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.
But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.
He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.
Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.
But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.
Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.
In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.
It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.
You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.
You are fucking pregnant. With his child.
It’s growing in your belly.
Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.
It’s fucking painful watching you like this.
He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.
But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.
Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.
Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.
He has to play this right.
He has to.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”
Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.
The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.
Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.
He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.
That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.
Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.
But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.
Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.
He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.
It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.
Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.
Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.
“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”
Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.
Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”
Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”
The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.
Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.
Is that?
No. Can’t be.
His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.
There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.
But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.
You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.
“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.
“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.
You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.
“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.
“Is that?”
“It fucking is.”
“She’s fucking pregnant.”
Johnny swallows. “Aye.”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.
But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.
You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.
You’re staring right at Johnny.
And he’s staring back.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23
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soaps-mohawk · 6 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
NEXT ->
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wizzdot · 4 days
Text
*short fic alert* (fic under page break)
Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!
The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.
You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.
The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.
Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.
You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.
“Need to watch my weight, love”
“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”
“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”
They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.
Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.
So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.
You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.
Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.
Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.
That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.
The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.
You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”
“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”
The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.
“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.
“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.
“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.
“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.
“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.
“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.
Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.
………..
Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”
………
Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”
………
Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.
You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.
“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.
You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.
Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.
“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”
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mockerycrow · 1 year
Note
Hello Dearest!
May I request König (I love this man) and the 141 squad (separately) where fem! reader catches them staring at her joocy ass as she's slightly bent over a table, translating some papers for them, and when she turns to see if they're listening she catches the way their eyes panic and look elsewhere.
Please my lord, I'm on my knees
-juvia
Fem!Reader Catches The 141 + König Looking At Her Ass
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cod masterlist
I’m having a 400 follower celebration!
A/N: i hope you enjoy!! also this gets a bit dirtier than i intended,,,,
You’re standing up with your hands on the table, slightly bent over it with your eyes scanning the documents in front of you. The words that flood these pages hold valuable information and it’s a language none of the main members of the 141 understand. Your their main translator for any documents and prisoners as you’ve studied and have become fluent in a variety of languages. Your eyebrows furrow as you lift one of your hands and move the document a bit to the side to reveal the one underneath it, and then that hand hovers over the laptop you have set aside to type up your translations. Your back is arched in such a way where your ass is slightly bending outwards. “Hey, where did you guys say you got these document from?— What Country?” You pick the document up that caught your eye and your eyes scan every word, muttering quiet translations. You notice he doesn’t say anything, causing you to look back at him. “Hey, are you listening?—“ Suddenly his head looks the other way with a clear of his throat and you’re left confused. Did this topic make him nervous? Did something happen when they got these documents for this reaction to occur?—and then it hits you. He was staring at your ass. “Were.. were you looking at my ass?”
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-> John Price
He clears his throat and his fingers go to his chin, rubbing at it nervously. Price hoped you didn’t notice him staring; he couldn’t help it. The way your back is arched just puts your ass on the most perfect display, and the way your pants are hugging your ass?? God, it’s like you wore them to kill him.
He can’t deny it, not when you so clearly caught him red handed. “Guilty.” He responds, his eyes darting anywhere but you. He’s being careful, as he knows this could very well go a way he didn’t want. “I’m sorry.”
Price has always noticed you around base, always thought it was a pleasure working with you. Your skills and talents in quick translation always impressed him. Your quips and your remarks have always intrigued him as well. It’d be a lie to say this is his first time staring.
“I don’t mind.”
He nearly asks you to repeat yourself but the glint in your eye, combined with your eyelash batting and the way you’re sticking your ass out even further, openly letting him take it in.
You then turn back around to your work, purposely bending your leg to stick your ass out into such a glorious pose, causing him to swear under his breath.
-> Kyle Garrick
He laughs with a nervous hue, his hands behind his back, one hand gripping the wrist of the other. Kyle can feel his heart pounding through the pulse on his wrist. His face feels hot from embarrassment as he clicks his tongue and rocks on the balls of his feet for a second, avoiding any eye contact with you. “Nope.”
You smirk because you know he was, you saw that split second of enthrallment, admiring the way your pants hug your ass, curving in on the underside, folding in such a perfect way, showing off how grabbable it is, how the meat of it would sink under his fingers. His face begins to heat up as his fingers twitch, the want to squeeze filling his gut.
“Mhm, sure.” You didn’t sound mad, in fact you sound.. amused. You turn back to your work, but not before pulling your pants up even further, digging into the crevices of your muscle. You pretend you don’t hear the quiet, shocked “damn” come from his lips for his own sanity.
-> John MacTavish
His cheeks are red while his hand scratches the back of his head, which he does when he’s embarrassed. Soap hesitantly looks at you again after a second of not responding. You look back at him with a smirk curled on your face, tilting your head as you oh so innocently change poses by leaning your back more into a down position, arching your back ever so slightly more than before.
Okay, now he was definitely obvious with his staring. Soap has to admit that he’s glanced once or twice before, but he never stared when he thought there was a chance where he could get caught.
You hum and turn back to the documents below you, and Soap thought that was that for a moment—oh, how he was wrong. You begin to talk.
“I know you were,” You quip. “How long?” He jolts ever so slightly, offering a nervous chuckle. You note his accent seems to thicken and drip from his voice like thick honey now. “What d’ya mean?” You look at him with a raised brow, and he gives you a smile that shows his gums. You roll your eyes playfully.
“Y’know, if you just admitted it, I would’ve let you touch.” Wait, what?
-> Ghost
He weighs his options and lets out a heavy sigh with an admission of guilt which you grin at; it’s not easy to get Ghost to admit to something like this. Admit to a mistake made on the field, sure, no problem, he’ll take full ownership but fuck, this is different.
You tread carefully, but you bite your lip, keeping your eyes on his. You notice the way his eyes are slightly wider than normal and he’s looking away; you guarantee that he’s blushing under that black grease and dark skull mask and you love how nervous he seems.
“It’s alright to look.” You murmur, and you turn your head back to the papers in front of you. As soon as he knows you look away, he looks back at you, and more specifically your ass. “I know these pants are tight, hm?” You can’t help but tease him about it, bending your spine so your ass is out more. “I beg your pardon?” His words are slow and connected in a swift sentence, his voice slightly tight.
You don’t respond verbally, but you shoot him a look over your shoulder that says it all, and he returns a lidded look that involuntarily pulls a grin from your lips.
-> König
“I apologize..!” He blurts out as he looks away, his fingers intertwining nervously. He did not mean to stare, really, but your pants are so tight and he’s usually really respectful and he doesn’t usually stare, and he can usually keep his eyes from wandering—
You tilt your head as you notice the man just lock up in place and you can’t help but bark out a laugh, causing him to glance at you before glancing away, pure shame radiating off of him. “König, it’s fine, I don’t care,” You begin, the corner of your lip lifting in amusement.
König keeps his eyes off of you even after you say you don’t mind as he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but that doesn’t stop his mind from wandering. He wondered if those pants fit you that tight everywhere? Did you own any pants that fit you tighter?
His eyes do end up on your ass again as he wonders if you own any tight leggings, the type that are sheer and and hug your legs and waist tight. The type that leave little to the imagination as it hugs the swell of your ass and the roundness of your cunt—
“König.” “Es tut mir Leid!!”
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 10 months
Text
Dad!Cod Scenarios
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I had thoughts on these racked up in my brain about CoD characters having kids and what type of parents they'd be in a scenario or drabble manner.
Tag list: @puff0o0, @simp4konig, @blingblong55, @azereus, @rustic-guitar-notes, @shadofireshinobi, @anonymuslydumb, @skeletalgoats, @icarustypicalfall, @ghosts-cyphera,@connorsui is at it again, making me blush over her words, AHHHHH I LOVE HER. Did I tag almost everyone I know here? Yes, yes I did 😭
Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
(Implied?? Wife!Reader, Parent!Reader. Not really specified, so gender neutral!Reader)
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❥ Dad!John Price is the type of dad who'd fondly tell your kids about how you met, tell them stories about his time in the army, his experiences with their uncles and aunts from 141. Enjoying how their little faces express something great, admiring how cool their dad was for being so brave to constantly and willingly put his life on the line in the means of saving people. They tried telling him that they want to follow in his footsteps but that is a big no no. The last thing he wants is them willingly throwing themselves in danger and the risk was far too much.
❥ Dad!Johnny MacTavish is the type of dad to make his kids laugh by blowing raspberries on whatever body part his kids are ticklish on, he enjoys hearing their laughter and giggles. Definitely is the man who grew up with quite a big family so he'd love to have a full house if you were up to having it with him. He's such a family man to the bone, knows how things work around and mostly knows what to say and do when it comes to the kids.
❥ Dad!Kyle Garrick is the type of dad to dance with his kids, letting them have their little feet on top of his, letting them pick the music and guiding the little one. Having them smile and look up at him, his little one thinking it was just the best thing in the world to spend quality time with their dad. Swaying them around while they call him giggling, letting out squeals after he spins them. (I NEED GIRL DAD!GAZ 🥺😭)
❥ Dad!Simon Riley is the type of dad who absolutely HATES it when his kids cry, always doing his best to console them, depending on what made them upset. Being the one to patch them up when it's because of a "boo-boo", god forbid it's because of another person, he'd either make that kid piss themselves or that adult will NEVER see the light of day again. Because of that, the little one always finds themselves looking for their dad's comfort.
❥ Dad!Gary Sanderson who is the type of dad who finds so many ways to make his kid feel appreciated, whether that'd be through letting them help out and make them feel needed, thanking them and returning the favor for handmade gifts on days like Father's day or Valentine's day. The little one is always so eagerly awaiting for their dad to come home, knowing he'd be bearing so meaningful gift that goes in the memory box.
❥ Dad!Alejandro Vargas who is the type of dad who's strict but also not at the same time. Safe to say he did not have fun when Soap taught his kid to curse in Spanish when he first met the kid, that was probably Alejandro's fault for teaching Soap Spanish curses anyway. That kid is going to be loved I tell you, Alejandro has taken them to work just so they can see what he does and safe to say they loved being around everyone that Alejandro works with. (More likely that they still do this together however Alejandro is VERY strict since it's dangerous for the kid to even be out there)
❥ Dad!Rodolfo Parra who is the type of dad whose domestic, he has many memorabilias and scrapbooks of his kid's milestones, even kept the teeth that fell out. Always finding ways to spend time with the kids, whether it'd be through something as simple but meaningful as teaching them Spanish or taking them out to eat. His kids love and adore him, finding that the best time they spend with him is when he lets them talk about their day, listening in and validating their thoughts.
❥ Dad!König who is the type of dad who finds himself absolutely terrified that he's responsible for such a tiny thing. He's extremely protective of them, seeing his little kid whimper and point at something that caused them pain (even if it was by their own accord), König finds himself comforting the little one by soothing their crying and kicking whatever inanimate object it was just to make them feel better. He already hurt himself once or twice doing that and it did make his kid laugh, anything that makes them happy right?
❥ Dad!Kim Hong-Jin who is the type of dad whose a bit irresponsible at times, he tends to roughhouse with his kid a lot. There's definitely a lot of physical and playful activities with him in the means of spending time. He doesn't mean anything by it, just quality time, his kid is one of the reasons behind him stopping his gambling addiction. He wanted to set an example for them. The last thing he wants is for his kid to remember him by something negative so he does his best to spend time with them a lot despite him getting deployed.
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Sidenote: I wrote this at 1 am and it was fun but my eyes hurt now, I have plans to go out tomorrow with a friend. Now regarding your guys' requests, ISTG I'm not ignoring you guys, I'm just not in the right headspace to write them except for a few I'm currently working on.
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midnightarcheress · 5 months
Text
another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?
cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. 2 | more casino!141
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you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.
at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 
however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 
you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.
"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?
for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 
the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?
thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.
your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 
the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 
"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.
the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.
John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 
you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.
you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?
his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 
"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"
"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 
through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.
the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 
you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."
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i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol
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soapsbaby · 1 year
Text
Bunch of Deviants II
Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader
Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)
Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation
Word Count: 1.3k-ish
Ghost - Primal
He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.
Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.
He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.
After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.
Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work
He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.
He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.
Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.
He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.
Price - Watching you Touch yourself
He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.
He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.
He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.
His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.
Gaz - Free Use
Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.
For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.
Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.
König - Thigh Riding
Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.
He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.
Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.
It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.
Graves - Pegging
It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.
Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.
You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.
Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.
Alejandro - Degradation
He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.
He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.
He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.
He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.
He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.
Rudy - Choking
The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.
His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.
He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.
He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.
Valeria - Strap-Ons
It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.
She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.
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twiixr4kidz · 1 year
Note
Hii can you do like reader sleeping on seven evil exes lap hehe I Also love ur writing!!♡
tysm!!! also apologies for how late this is i was on a hiatus ;^;
sleeping on the evil exes!!
matthew patel
he tears up a little bit
one second, you're awake and talking to him and the next, you're knocked out and drooling on his leg
he thinks you look adorable (he didn't take a picture of you what are you talking about)
he's also like, uncontrollably giggling and smiling over the fact that YOU!! FELL ASLEEP!! ON HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!
lucas lee
on the outside, he's like "hell yeah this is awesome" but you know DAMNNNN well he's screaming internally
lucas has this habit of acting like a badass on the outside but any time you do something, he's filled with an overwhelming amount of joy
he sits there with you sleeping on him for as long as he can
eventually his legs start falling asleep, so he sneakily moves your head off of his lap and onto a pillow
he also covers you up with a blanket or his jacket or whatever is around just so you don't get cold
todd ingram
treats you like a sleeping kitten
if only you were awake to see the smile on his face when he realize you were asleep, you probably would've melted
he'll run his fingers through your hair as he mumbles something under his breath about how he wishes this moment could last forever
eventually, he falls asleep sitting up
bro is hella dedicated to keep you nice and comfortable!!!
roxie richter
she honestly doesn't notice at first
she's just talking to you, telling you about her day or something that happened in this show that she's been watching, and you're not responding
at first she's like "what the heck, y/n?" and then when she realizes you're asleep, she's like "OHHHHHH" and then she's like "OH?? OH MY GOD???"
note, she's whisper-screaming to herself because she doesn't wanna wake you up
she's the kind of girl who can fall asleep anywhere, so she gets comfy next to you and crashes too
kyle katayanagi
very similarly to roxie, he's probably telling one of his crazy party stories when he realizes you're asleep
instead of stopping, he lowers his voice and keeps talking
he'll just keep telling stories until he falls asleep or until you wake up
his hand is resting on your arms as he draws circles with his thumb on it
he's really enjoying the fact that you trust him enough to just pass out on his lap like that
and you're definitely gonna get an earful of it when you wake up, because who is kyle if NOT a tease??
ken katayanagi
he's usually reading, so it takes him a moment to realize you're out
he smiles to himself, softly saying how you should've gone to bed when he said, but he still thinks it's cute
ken'll start reading to you too
he isn't sure why he does it
maybe it's something about the soothing, intimate nature of reading a book to somebody, or maybe it's just because he's ken and that's what he does
he'll bring you to bed when he's done with the chapter
he wants you to sleep well and NOT have a sore neck when you wake up, how sweet :))
gideon graves
he's a very busy guy, so this isn't new
actually it happens quite a lot
he'll get home late and you'll be falling asleep on the couch waiting for him
he greets you sweetly, sitting down next to you and putting on your favorite show to watch together
he knows that when you rest your head on his lap, you're going to fall asleep and he's more than okay with it
as much as he does love it, he tries not to get home so late that it happens in the first place
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cumikering · 2 months
Text
F1 John Price x reader
2.7k | fluff Price raced for Mclaren. You didn’t know that (part 2)
No human body was made for this: jetting across continents and time zones for nine months out of twelve.
Even after the years, John Price hadn’t got used to it. Neither was he used to flying from Las Vegas to London for a photoshoot only to hop on another plane the day after for his next race in Qatar.
He groaned internally, his body aching as he plopped down onto the backseat of the cab before taking his black surgical mask and cap off. He didn’t get a proper rest with how turbulent his flight was.
“Oh, I’ve seen ya mate!” the middle-aged driver exclaimed, eyeing him from the rear-view mirror. “You’re famous- you’re the F1 bloke, innit?”
John gave him a polite smile.
“Could you sign something of mine?” He popped open his glovebox. “Wait, this wouldn’t sell so high…” he muttered as he rummaged through it.
The cars behind started a cacophony of honks.
“Am in the way.” He chuckled sheepishly as he pulled away. “You better not run off before I find something!"
Downtown London was packed at the hour. The driver had plenty of time to look through every nook and cranny of his car, but cursing when he could only come up with a yellowing notepad and a drying pen. John made do.
“Could you also put your name down, please?” He held the pad over his shoulder after he’d inspected it. “So we know who you are.”
And he did, with another rehearsed smile.
“Cheers, mate.” With a pleased grin, he tossed the pad onto the passenger seat, not even bothering to make eye contact amidst the traffic.
At the red light around the corner of the magazine HQ, the taxi halted in front of a coffee shop. He glanced at his watch - he was 20 minutes early and he desperately needed caffeine.
John pulled his mask and cap back on before exiting the car. The cap was still stiff, one with a French flag patch he grabbed at random at the airport with a grumble. He’d misplaced the plain one he liked.
He kept his head down as he stood in the short queue.
“Hot Americano, double shot, please.”
His phone chimed when he waved it over the payment terminal. He was going to regret this. He wasn’t a big coffee drinker.
“Can I get a name for that?” You looked up from the cup you scribbled on.
“JP.”
You smiled, glancing at his cap and wrote his name down. “Like Jean Pierre?”
He chuckled, only now making eye contact with you. It was a joke between him and his teammate, Kyle, or Gaz as the fans called him. You must be one of those well-meaning people pretending to not recognise him, giving him a slice of normalcy.
He always appreciated the gesture, especially the more years passed. As glamorous as life had been since F1, John discovered he wasn’t about all the glitz and glam.
He didn’t care about looking immaculate all the time, scripted speech in designer clothing or driving expensive cars. Have you seen the state of London’s streets? Everything was PR, PR, PR - like this wasn’t even his life he was living anymore. He wanted to be home on his racing simulator or get the neighbourhood takeaway in his thick hoodies without anyone shoving a camera in his face. He just wanted his old, quiet life.
You worked the coffee machine, your back to him, and his gaze wondered to the pastry display as he leaned on the counter. The cookies were massive, thick in the middle, probably chewy too. They would be perfect with his coffee.
He glanced at the line which had grown longer, and at you at the register now, scribbling another customer’s order onto a cup with a smile. It was odd that no one else was in sight to help you at the busy time.
A quick peek at his watch: he didn’t have the time to queue again. He’d just have to come back later after his business.
“Enjoy.” You flashed him a smile as you placed his order on the counter.
It didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.
Sure enough, hours later after a photoshoot and an interview, caffeine still buzzed in John’s veins. He could only imagine how long he’d be up later that night, but it was worth it. At least he didn’t look like a zombie in the footage.
His mask didn’t hold off the gust of wind - cold against his cheeks as he stepped out of the building. His stomach rumbled. While pubs had started to fill up with people in work attire, the lights were still on in your shop. He crossed the street only for the sign to read ‘closed’, the last couple exiting the door.
His shoulders sagged, but he pushed the door open anyway.
You looked up from the tablet you fumbled with, your smile apologetic. “Hiya, we’re closed. Sorry.”
He glanced at the display, empty safe for two remaining cookies. He pointed at them. “Hi, so sorry to bother, but I just wanted those, please. I didn’t get the chance earlier.”
Recognition flashed in your eyes. “Oh, I remember you. Jean-Pierre.”
“It’s me.” He laughed.
You slid the bag of two cookies across the counter. “On the house.”
“No, no. You’re doing me a favour already. Have one with me at least?”
You hummed. “Why not.”
At the nearest table, he had taken his cap and mask off. You set down a mug of milk.
“You’re spoiling me.” He chuckled, taking a bite of the cookie. “Oh my god, it’s spot on,” he groaned.
You smiled. “I’m glad you like it. It took me a while to come up with the perfect recipe.”
“I’d thought about this for hours and it doesn’t disappoint, but I bet it tastes even better warm.” His gaze couldn’t help but fall to your untouched cookie.
You laughed, pushing the paperbag across the table.
“I’m sorry, this is so, so shameless.” He gave you a sheepish grin. “But it’s wonderful, really. I’ll be back. Definitely.”
“You’re very welcome to.”
“Can I place an order? For my team. Three dozens for tomorrow morning, or is that a bit last minute?”
“Yeah, no, I can do that.” You smiled. “If I may ask, what do you do, JP? Sounds like a big team.”
He frowned. “I thought you knew?”
You tilted your head. “Sorry, I don’t think you told me?”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. Heat crept up his neck from the presumption. “I work with cars.”
“Like a mechanic?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, that’s impressive. You must have steady hands.”
“I do, I suppose.” He held your gaze for a moment. “Oh, sorry, you were about to close. I’ll just finish this-“
You waved your hand. “Do take you time. I hadn’t had the chance to sit down.”
“Busy day?”
“Very. One of my girls is sick so I worked alone today.”
“I can stay a bit, if you don’t mind.” He smiled. “Actually, would you like dinner? I’m famished. I can get something for us?”
“That sounds fantastic.”
“I saw a kebab shop a block away. Are they stingy with their chips?”
“Of course not. They wouldn’t be my favourite otherwise.”
He dashed out the door with a grin.
When John returned with dinner, you called out from the kitchen as you put away the cookie dough you’d just prepped for his order.
“I make the dough at least 12 hours ahead. That way the flavours have a chance to mingle.” You sat across him.
“Is that why they’re so good?”
You shrugged, smiling, as you unwrapped your dinner.
“I’ll be back for this too.” He nodded approvingly at the kebab, bursting at the seams with chips.
“They’ve got great food around here.”
“All the more reason I’ll have to be back.”
You chatted over the meal, about the area and its hidden gems. He was convinced he didn’t even know half of the city even after living there for many years.
“Thanks for dinner, Jean-Pierre. You can go now if you want.” You put away the wrappings. “I don’t want to bore you with all the cleaning I’m going to be doing.”
“It’s John, and I can do the dishes.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You said you were tired, and look how long I held you up.” He gestured at the dark sky outside.
You chuckled as you shook your head.
“Come on, let’s get to work,” he said over his shoulder as he sauntered to the kitchen.
You wiped down the counters and did the floor as John helped with the dishes, asking about you and your shop. While he didn’t like doing chores, doing them with you didn’t feel troublesome.
In fact, it was nice to spend some time out, not cooped up all alone in his apartment. It was refreshing to not be talking about racing or cars, to get away from it all. You laughed so heartily, so bright at his jokes. Within these four walls, maskless, he didn’t have to pretend.
He wore his mask as you locked up, but not before sliding in a few bills into the tip jar when you weren’t looking.
“So.” He turned to you, hands jammed in his pockets.
“I’m taking the bus.”
If he had his car he’d have offered to drive, but it was just as well he wasn’t driving. What if he wouldn’t want to leave?
So he walked you to the bus stop before calling a taxi for himself, back to his own reality.
While John was away for a Grand Prix weekend, between media day, qualifying and other preparations, he didn’t have the chance to be alone with his thoughts. However, as soon as he lay in his hotel bed that Sunday night, adrenaline still pumping in his blood from the race hours before, his mind drifted to you. He wondered what you were up to, if you’d thought about him since Wednesday morning when he picked up his order.
See, his problem wasn’t that he didn’t ask, but that he asked too easily and often came off too strong. He didn’t want that, especially not to you, someone the slightest bit more than an acquaintance now, a funny and pretty one at that.
But he should have asked for your number. He had so many chances to: during dinner, while walking you to the bus stop, or when he swung by the day after. You would have loved to know how everyone flocked to him when he walked into the room, oohing and aahing over your cookies.
He’d just have to wait until the next day.
Monday was his favourite day of the week because it was his day off, allowing him to not even leave his penthouse apartment if he so wished. But in the afternoon when he arrived back in London, he had somewhere else to be. On his way home from the factory, he took a detour, parking around the corner from your shop.
He wasn’t supposed to think so much about you, let alone miss you, but he did against his better judgement. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face when you greeted him as he approached the counter.
“Hiya, what can I get you?”
“I’d like to place another order for tomorrow. Everyone loved your cookies.”
“Sure.” You smiled. “You know, you could just give us a ring, yeah?”
“Right, about that. I was wondering if you fancy dinner with me tonight?”
“Oh, I’ll have to prep for the cookies-“
Behind you, a young lady at the coffee machine quipped over her shoulder with a stifled smile. “I can handle that.”
You turned and mouthed ‘thank you’ to her. “Where to?”
“Anywhere you want. I’m driving.”
When you sent him to wait at a table with a cup of hot chocolate, his smile faltered. He didn’t think this through. He was driving his Mclaren. Shephard, the boss, made up this silly clause in the contract for him and Gaz to drive their own McLaren to and from the factory. Good for PR, he said.
 He hurried outside as he dialled.
“Kate? Kate, I’m at that coffee shop.”
There was a beat. “Okay?”
“Would you please drive my GTI over?”
“Why, did your car break?” She chuckled. “A towed Mclaren isn’t a good look. Shephard won’t be impr-”
“No, I need my GTI in-“ he glanced at his watch. ”Exactly 52 minutes.”
“What? John, I’m your manager, not your errand boy.”
“Please! I’ve got no time to explain, just do it.”
“Or what?” she said dryly.
“I’ll tell your wife in Qatar there was a lighter in your coat pocket which smelled an awful lot like smoke.”
There was a pause followed by a huff. “Fine. Text me the address.”
Kate rolled up in his Golf GTI in time for your shop to close. You picked a place not too far from your flat, and he was thankful it wasn’t packed. You sat at the table in the corner and kept his cap on.
It was evident you were less tired that night, more playful with your jokes. He could listen to your laugh and look into your eyes all day. But before it was too late, much to his chagrin, you called it a night.
He pulled up at your flat. “I promise no more last-minute orders.”
“Just give us a call next time.”
“Rather call you.”
John Sloane, he typed into your phone.
You smiled, sliding your phone back in your pocket. “See you soon, John.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You held his gaze for another moment before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. His heart soared, but before he could react, you’d shut the door behind you with a supressed smile.
He grinned to himself as he drove home.
“Gaz!” Soap bellowed at the door. “Sorry am late. My alarm didnae go off.” The engineer hurried to the table to see Kyle munching happily. “Och, did ye get more cookies, Cap? I’m starvin’.”
Everyone on the team wore a cap, but Price was the only one who couldn’t be caught without one, therefore the curious nickname. That, and he often swore up a storm on team radio, like a bossy sailor. Simon, his engineer, could only remain silent witnessing the outbursts like he wasn’t even there. He earned his moniker Ghost that way.
John chuckled. “Help yourself, mate.”
He popped open the box, groaning after a bite. “Aye, that’s the one.”
“You sure you don’t want one, Ghost?” Gaz teased as he grabbed his third cookie. “You’ve been staring.”
“Alright, just one.”
“Oh, that didn’t take a lot of convincing,” Soap quipped between bites.
Ghost gave him the side eye. “Would you rather I eat the whole box, Johnny?”
Soap pouted and took his seat next to Gaz, and the team meeting for the upcoming race commenced.
As always, the crew flew out on Thursday, but this time, he had you to text. And he did, between the press conferences and briefs, or work, as he simply told you. If he was home, he would ask you out again in a heartbeat. Texting couldn’t compare to seeing that smile in real life, but it would have to do for now.
Abu Dhabi was the last race of the season. He was very much looking forward to winter break, even more so this time, because for the first time in years, he had someone to come home to. Okay, maybe that was too generous a statement. There was someone he would very much want to see, to say the least.
John landed in London Monday evening, still thrumming from his P1 win and finishing second for the season. He went straight home to switch cars before picking you up at work for dinner with a giddy smile.
He had a few days to himself before leaving for Liverpool for Christmas, which hopefully meant one more time of seeing you, if you let him, that was. But when you gave him another peck on his cheek when he opened the car door for you, he decided it was impossible to stay away from you.
I’ve missed you too much.
Ex boyfriend Price Masterlist
@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @keegansshark @kyletogaz @footyandformula
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ohmygraves · 3 months
Text
what the 141 guys would eat in an all you can eat buffet
price
price is the one grilling the meat most of the time if they're in like a kbbq where you cook the meat yourself
he tells the boys to grab whatever they want cuz it should be fun rather than trying to get their money's worth
still though he will make sure that everyone finishes their plate bcz no wasting food here people it's an extra 10 pounds for like 100g of food you wasted get your head in the game-
honestly probably wouldn't be that hard, his boys eats a lot in general
keeping it simple with series of meats and booze, though might indulge in some pastries if something catches his fancy
tends to pick something he's familiar with and one that looks good, will be disappointed if the one he picked doesn't taste as good as it looks :(
oh also will definitely go ham at the crabs, kinda shows off how to crack it open and get the most meat from it hehe
i feel like the buffet he feels more comfortable with are the ones that offer him familiar sights and lots of meat. and maybe some veggies too to cut the cholesterol out of his body a little
he might enjoyed k-bbq, cuz they eat lots of veggies while going hard on the meat too
"see you just do this and this and..." *a log of crab leg meat pops out of its shell* "now it's all out"
gaz
oh he gets distracted by the fancy stuff
his plates has a few oysters and somehow lobster tails?? is that a caviar??
his palaté is more adventurous, i think he'd be willing to try out things that he hadn't seen or tried before
still he wants to maximize his stomach space to try out everything that the place has to offer
looks around the selection a few times before grabbing a plate and picking the things he wants (apparently this is the way to go?)
i feel like kyle would be into buffets that offers interesting dishes and unlike the ones that are in common buffets with their ham and mass produced scrambled eggs or something
he has standards
he's a fancy boy, he wants some good drinks while he eats through the entire place
indulges in desserts, but only at the end where he knows that he's had enough of the main dishes (the dessert ruins his appetite so he keeps it towards the end)
soap
picky boy #1 in the squad
cannot handle a single lick of spicy and heat so his options are limited if he goes somewhere "interesting" or wherever kyle takes him
that being said he likes carbs
lots of them
grabs bread and toast and the meats from the meat section and just makes himself some sandwiches
doesn't really take the salads bcz he doesn't like the veggies in it, will end up picking most of the stuff out (he doesn't like raw onions and raw carrots :c)
loves the sweets though
will accidentally eat too much sweets that he couldn't eat anything else because his appetite gets ruined
still though if he goes to a buffet he's gonna make sure he stays until the end, kept going either way until the last seconds.
might end up very sick and in a food comma, someone has to roll him out of the place later
his favorite buffets are those cheap ones where the dishes are something he knows and he just cycles through like five dishes through his one hour time limit
he gets made fun of by ghost because his plate is always full of beige
ghost
i still stand by ghost being a big boy that likes eating
so he lives for these buffets
he doesn't really like the ones where you cook yourself, he feels like its a lot of waiting for the cooking and not enough time eating
also doesn't really go for the soups, cuz he soups take a lot of space in your stomach. will probably indulge in a small bowl or two though just to try.
he likes a lot of things and doesn't really have anything he hates or turn away, keeps going somewhere where he knows where he could eat his fill in the cheap
he might put the place in the red though, he can certainly eat a lot
meat? sure. salad? put it on the plate. toast and eggs? why not. seafood? no need to ask.
his side of the table is always full of dishes and cluttered. you won't even be able to see the table underneath.
also the vacuum cleaner and the savior for price's wallet from paying the fee for leaving uneaten food
kyle always gets him to try interesting food, and ghost just doesn't really comment on it and puts it in his mouth
he likes anywhere where he could eat for the cheap, isn't very picky on the cuisine. as long as he's not the one cooking the food himself he's fine with it lol
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corroded-hellfire · 5 months
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Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️
We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: mentions of smut
Words: 2.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind. 
A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.
“White? You sure about that?” 
You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”
You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.
Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.
“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”
The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.
“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”
“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”
“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”
“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”
The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.
“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”
Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.
“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”
As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye. 
“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”
You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.
“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.
“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.
Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.
“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”
The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.
“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”
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Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains. 
Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her. 
First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.
“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”
With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces. 
“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
“It’s less than a month away.”
“But still.”
“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.
“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”
“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”
You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.
“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”
Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.
“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”
“Teach me your ways.”
Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.
“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”
You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.
Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.
“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says. 
You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.
“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.
“Hell yes,” Jess agrees. 
“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”
It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.
“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.
“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.
“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”
Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.
“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.
“In a good way?” Jess asks.
“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”
“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.
You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.
“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.
“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.
New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.
“I love you so much,” you say.
“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”
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When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.
“Whatcha got?”
“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”
Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.
“Did you have fun?” he asks.
“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”
“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.
“Where are the boys?” you ask.
“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.
“How long ago did they pick them up?”
A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.
“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”
“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.
“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”
Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed. 
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hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!
from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!
but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?
sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.
(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)
(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)
apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!
Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!
And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.
I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.
But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.
Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 1 year
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Task Force 141 with a Small/Flat Chested Reader
[Task Force 141 x F!Reader]
[Warnings: I mean, I talk about tits what more can you expect? It's pretty NSFW, so MINORS GET OUT.]
[AN: iykyk, yk? Anyways. Love the IBTC just bc I think that's cute and I'm in a mood to show this community love <3]
Reblogs are appreciated!
Captain John Price
I think he has a slight size kink, not too big but small tits play into it. Yes ofc he loves all tits but small tits just look so lovely to him. If you wear any bras or whatever, he's staring for the outline. The same thing if you don't wear anything, he might catch a glimpse of your nipples poking through and he likes that. Won't outright say it though.
Loves whenever you wear low necklines, like v necks, scoops, things that show off your chest.
If you wear long necklaces that dip in between? ohohoh. He can't help but stare and whisper the dirtiest things in your ear.
I think he really liked to hug you from behind and playfully rub his hands upwards from your stomach to your chest.
Isn't it cute how his whole hand can envelop them? He really likes to grope you. Especially laying in bed and he spoons you, hands come up? Boom, gotta grab the titty.
Absolutely feral over them. Any insecurities get washed away by how much he wants to touch you and how he compliments you.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
I feel like he's a huge thigh guy but your tits are pretty hot to him. Thinks they're super elegant with the way they fit in certain clothes.
He stares. He cannot stop staring. He's feel his face heat whenever you catch him and he covers it in the dorkiest ways possible.
Idk I feel like he's really,,,, silly? With the way he loves your tits. Can't really explain it but just know he's kinda silly.
I think he loves to rest his head on your chest and take naps. But he'll also start kissing just to get you flustered.
He gets pretty sad if you get sad or feel any self doubt over your tits. He really loves how they fit you and how they look once clothes come off.
He has a special love for whenever you wear cute bras or bralettes, whatever makes you happiest I guarantee he's in love with.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
He's super immature about the way he loves your tits. Like, wolf whistles whenever you wear something a little more revealing, makes raunchy comments, it's gotta make you bashful because he thinks that's cute.
Love love loves to suck on your nipples. Like, I don't know he strikes me as a strong titty guy and small tits make him feral.
He'll bite gently because his bitemarks on your tits make him blush. Big on squeezing and generally worshipping that part of your body. And like Gaz, he just LOVES to stare.
Though I think he doesn't actually like the long necklaces? And it's not that he doesn't like that but rather he thinks they detract from your chest just a bit.
He's the world's best hype man. Feeling insecure? Societal standards telling you that you need more? No worries, he's gonna squash all of that in a heartbeat.
You ever see that one vine that was like, 'take them titties out bc I'm trying to see them?' He's,,, the embodiment of that. Good luck ever wearing a shirt for more than a few hours around him when you're relaxing together at home.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
yeah idk about you guys but I think Ghost has HUGE size kink. And to be fair, he kinda looms over everyone but your small tits really put his size kink into high gear.
He's always going to be cupping, rubbing and sucking your tits or at least dreaming about the moment he can again. Loves having you underneath him so he can watch your chest rise and fall, see every part of you but focus on your nipples especially.
He likes how you look in outfits as well, they accentuate your body and make you look gorgeous to him. Also a big fan of necklines that go low. But he also enjoys knowing he's the only man who can touch you there.
Loves when you lay on top of him to cuddle. Something about your chests pressed together is intimate and romantic to him? He wouldn't call it romantic, more like relaxing. He likes physical touch but it takes a while to get there.
Thinks aesthetically, that you're gorgeous. I think he sketches in his spare time, I can't actually remember if that was,,, confirmed or not? maybe I'm hallucinating but he sketches in his spare time and he's drawn your chest before.
He thinks you're beautiful. No part of you needs to change or bend to societal pressures. Insecurity tends to melt away when you're with him because he just... gets you. Knows what to say and how to say it in such a way that it's comforting and sweet.
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lemoniiiiiii · 15 days
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chances
(frat!kyle spencer x fem!reader)
content: fluff, angst (if you squint?), mentioned sexual harassment (by frat members)
a/n: not proofread, short drabble inspired by this post, wrote it really fast so sorry if it's not the best (it's my first time writing for kyle too so)! also, the last line is sick I'm aware I'M SORRY RYAN MURPHY POSSESSED ME
when your boyfriend kyle told you that he was joining the fraternity kappa lambda gamma you seriously thought he was joking. kyle was caring, hard-working, kind. yeah, he liked to joke around, but he was nothing like those greek alphabet degenerates you associated frats with. you told him this earnestly. it wasn't just a passing judgment, it was a genuine concern for him. trapped in a house with all those guys? kyle could handle himself well growing up in the 9th ward, but these frat guys were different to the types of people he was used to dealing with. you didn't want to see him to get hurt, or worse... start becoming like them.
when you expressed your feelings to him, kyle (of course politely) brushed your concerns off.
"give em' a chance..." he told you, caressing your head in his lap. "they're not all as bad as ya think. and even some of em' that are a bit.. y'know.. they're good people at heart, i can tell. they just hafta be put in the right direction."
"and is that why you're gonna try and become president?"
"yep! kappa lambda gamma has the potential to be one of the best chapters tulane has ever seen. that, and it gets ya some pretty awesome connections"
he was right.. a lot of past frat members had become pretty successful and kyle could use that to his advantage.
"okay fair... just, be safe okay? stick to what you know- who you are"
"oh i f'sure will" he flashed a knowing smile, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your lips. your hands found their way into his golden curls, drawing him closer for a deeper connection.
as if on cue, the moment kyle pulled away, his phone began to ring. he glanced at the screen, and an apologetic smile appeared on his lips as he answered the call, shifting slightly as if bracing for what was coming.
"whoa, whoa, whoa, ma, slow down. what's going on? i’m at a—" he hesitated, casting a quick glance your way, "—at a friend’s, i told ya already... yeah, i’ll be home soon... what? right now?" there was a brief pause before he sighed. "okay, ma. love you too."
as kyle lowered the phone, you let out a soft sigh, already knowing what was coming. "gotta go, huh?"
"yeah, i’m sorry, baby..." he took your hand gently, lifting it to his lips in one smooth motion, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin before his lips brushed your knuckles. his fingers slid between yours, intertwining, and then he leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "i’ll see you on campus, okay?"
you nodded, trying to mask the disappointment tugging at your chest. "mhm… see you," you murmured, sitting up and watching him leave.
--
"oh my god" your jaw dropped as kyle stepped out of the bathroom. you had gone to surprise him after move-in day, wanting to see how he was adjusting to the frat life. and oh boy did he adjust. he had the blue embroidered polo with the collar obnoxiously flipped up, a white long sleeve underneath it, rolled up to the elbows, even-
"your hair!" you gasped. kyle's once luscious curls you loved to run your hands through had now become flat and side-swept. you silently cursed yourself for ever teaching him how to use a flat iron so he could help you do your hair.
"well y'know you could say hi-" he chuckled, enjoying your reaction to his new look. "like it?"
to be honest, you didn't hate it, as much as you wanted to. kyle had a way of making anything look good. it was more what it represented that made your stomach churn.
"you certainly look the part" you said, forcing a half-smile. "all you need now is a backwards cap and a blood alcohol content of .12%"
he laughed, walking over and nudging your arm. "c'mon babe. open mind, remember?"
you sighed. "right... open mind" you glanced over him again, noticing how the fabric of his clothes hugged his frame in a way that accentuated his muscles. "okay.. you do look really hot i'm just wor-"
"gonna stop ya right there." he gently placed a hand on your arm, giving you a warm smile. "thank you. i'm happy ya came."
"i'm... happy i'm here- well, with you anyway" you couldn’t help but let the corners of your mouth lift. kyle just had that effect on you.
"..seriously though," you started again, looking into his eyes with a hint of concern.
kyle’s expression softened as he wrapped an arm around your lower back. "i promise it's stoppin' here, alright? all this… it's just surface level. you still have me." he gestured vaguely to his clothes and hair. "this is still the same me."
you held his gaze, trying to believe him, though a small part of you still worried that he may fall in too deep.
"please baby, give em' a chance..."
"what kind of chance?" you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "because i was violated like three different ways just walking up to your room." the words came out half-joking, but there was an edge to your tone that kyle didn’t miss.
he straightened up, eyes narrowing, and his brow furrowed with a fierce protectiveness. "what happened?"
"i'm kidding... kinda. nothing crazy just a few wandering eyes" you waved it off, though the memory of being looked up and down like that made your skin crawl for a second.
"i'll talk to em' about it. if they say or do anything else, tell me. i'll cut their fuckin' balls off" his voice was serious, and though he didn't mean it literally, you knew he would go to war for the people he cared about.
"as long as i get to watch," you giggled, leaning into him a little more.
"...any chance you’ll stop using that flat iron, though?" you asked, giving his new hairstyle a gentle tease, still missing the curls that used to frame his face.
"when i'm dead." he chuckled with a cocky grin.
"we’ll see about that."
--
tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @heartz4peter
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bearieio · 1 year
Text
too hot for you...
cod guys during a heatwave
characters: simon "ghost" riley, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish, alejandro vargas, rudolfo perra, könig
warnings: fluff! gn!reader
a/n: the weather has been UNBEARABLE down here in the south.. send help! thanks a lot global warming! (thanks a lot industrial revolution!) (¬_¬;) i also plan on doing a cold weather version once the weather calms down, so expect a pt. 2 in the fall/winter! also this isn't proofread bc it's 23:49 on a school night...
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gaz quite literally RADIATES heat... so he is NOT having a good time during this heatwave. he's never gotten to the hotter climates on missions that took place in the hotter side of the hemisphere. 
he definitely adores the cold. which is why his electric bill is so high..
  one hot days like this one, he makes sure to plan out the day accordingly because he knows that no one, especially you, wants to go out in the blistering heat. 
  he’d be a little weary about touching you for too long, knowing how it makes you feel uncomfortable to be hot and sticky (wink wink) for too long.
  kyle would most likely make one of those forts that have a fan running through it (cuz he crafty like that) to keep the both of you cool while laying down together, both of you in starfish positions.
-
price is the exact OPPOSITE of gaz. he likes the heat.. but not when it’s like this.
  “todays high is… 103 DEGREES? FAHRENHEIT? CELSIUS?!” 
  “yeah… let’s stay inside today, sweetheart.. the mall can wait.”
  unlike gaz, he’s immune to most amounts of heat, but in SOUTHERN WEATHER? this man gets RED when he even takes a quick look outside. the sun is this mans only enemy. 
  he makes a MEAN smoothie. filled with both veggies and fruits to make sure you take in as many vitamins and minerals as humanly possible. he loves taking care of you wherever and whenever he can :')
  definitely hosts the world’s best barbecues and invites everyone. he’s also one HELL of a cook. he gets the grill goin’ and he can make some shit happen. 
  ++ he also own those silly aprons that have like “kiss the cook,” “my wife loves my meat,’ “real men like their pork PULLED,” "bearded cooks are way better"
  +++ he takes ice baths in the backyard.. a cigar in his mouth, news paper in one hand, ice cold beer in the other.  idk it just seemed like something he'd be doing.
-
soap loves to cuddle and refuses to let go when you tell him that you’re getting sweaty.
  “ugh! c’mon, you know i love your hot n’ sweaty scent!” 
  “..ew johnny.”
  makes a KILLER lemonade. idk what he puts in it but oh my god it’s amazing. not too tart but also not too sweet. brings it to every one of price’s bbqs. 
  his tolerance to heat it quite moderate, and he doesn’t mind the heat. but naturally he’ll be outside until he’s about to collapse because of the sweltering heat.  
  he literally tries to fight heat stroke back. he strokes the heat stroke.
  when you complain about being hot he’ll fan you with anything, for however long. you always feel bad about letting him fan you for an extended period of time, but he reassures you that he doesn’t mind.
  “it's fine, baby. don't worry about me." he says with a slight smile, watching you lie there, enjoying the fanning johnny provides you with.
-
ghost is always cold to the touch, even when he’s been outside, going through drills with his other teammates. 
“how are your hands so cold?!”
he gazes over at you, breathing hard, a thin layer of sweat atop his skin, “what? i’m dripping with sweat. i been outside for the past 2 hours!?”
can and will drink piping hot tea while it’s 99191099 degrees outside. 
  “sweetheart can you get me a cup of tea?”
  “…what? in this weather?!” you reply, confused and kinda terrified.
  he returns the confused look, “um… yea?”
  i don’t think he likes dresses according to the weather.. like he will wear 4 layers of clothing + his trusty balaclava, and seem completely fine (he’s not). 
  ++ in winter he’ll be like one of those middle school kids who wears shorts and a short sleeve shirts, without a jacket.
  +++ i think he secretly hates the heat and prefers to live in colder places, since it was usually cooler where he grew up. 
-
 unfortunately, rudy's love language is physical touch and CANNOT keep his hands off of you. even when the A/C goes out and the both of you're left to fend for yourselves in the sun-drenched heat.
  “r-RUDY GET OFF OF MEE!” 
  “mi amor, PLEASE!-“
  hosts the best carne asadas with alejandro and invites everyone (mostly to one up price’s bbqs). serves the best horchata, limonada, and other agua frescas. 
  picks the hottest days to invite people over and spend hours with you in the kitchen, cookin up a STORM! most DEFINITELY loves teaching you new cooking techniques and ways to improve the flavor, texture, and presentation of your food.
  with having grown up in las almas, he’s pretty used to the heat. he enjoys the hotter months out of the year because thats when his family came together the most.
  ++ i actually think rudy is a really good cook… like his skills are literally otherworldly. and tamales de puerco are his specialty ^^
-
alejandro loves hot weather as much as rudy does. in fact, its the time of the year when they hang out the most. hosting parties, gatherings, and other events in the sweltering heat… but it’s okay because everyone leaves with new memories and smiles on their faces (and maybe a lil bitta heat stroke).
  the days where he isn’t hanging out with rudy or the rest of the guys, he’s at home with you. playing all kinds of games that he grew up playing with his friends and family. he beats everyone in loteria EVERY time. luckily he doesn’t make you bet like he does when he’s with the guys.
  ale stays outside more than the average person when it’s hot. you’d be on the couch, binge-watching a show you promised your friends that you’d catch up on, when you actually get to watching the show, ale heads outside. by the time you’re done with the first season, he’s coming back in, slightly red and covered in sweat. 
  “where did you go?”
  “around the block… why do you ask?”
“yOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR 3 HOURS?"
++ when the weathers nice and hot, he likes to get away and go on roadtrips with you. of course he's usually the one driving, but he loves when you offer to drive.
+++ he LOVES being by the pool. whether it's the one that you guys have, one of his buddies' pools, or the one located inside his base, he cannot stay out of the water. he also has MULTIPLE pairs of swimming trunks... for every occasion.
++++ he most likely keeps up the summer tan he has goin' on.
"it's not a skin color, it's a lifestyle [name]- see you wouldn't know that because you’re-"
-
könig doesn’t have any particular opinions about how hot it is. he notices it but it doesn’t bother him. not like how the cold bothers him.
  during the hotter months i think he doesn’t mind staying inside but he’d also love to be out n’ about, with you by his side. 
  the days end up being long and peaceful. especially because all the two of you do is nap and watch TV together. he thinks it’s nice to be with you, but he’d rather be outside. 
  the only time that the two of you would go out is during the evening when the sun decides to be less aggressive with the earth.
++ i just have a feeling that könig loves to be outside and “one with nature.” he loves how calm everything seemed when he takes hikes in the forest or atop a mountain. 
+++ i also think that könig would be the best bartender EVER. idk i feel like he knows his way around a martini glass or whatever. he puts those skills to use whenever you guys have date night/a night in, concocting drinks with flavors you don’t think you’ve ever tasted before.
“schatz, what will you be having to drink tonight?”
“surprise me” you chirp back at him, winking. 
he looks down at you, sitting on the stool at the island located in your guys’ kitchen “coming right up!” 
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a/n pt2: alejandro's tan will never be better than mine (i'm black)
ANYWAYS! constructive criticism is appreciated !!!
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