#gaz au

[serialkilluh1996]

☠︎︎The Cause☠︎︎

Psychic-Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Dead-female-reader

When Kyle arrives on scene to investigate your suicide, he finds that he can't, and I mean cannot, drop your case.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

Warnings: suicide, gore, guns, angst, contact me if I need to add more.

It wasn't a pretty sight; the bright, flashing police lights, the yellow caution tape. It was pretty overwhelming and took quite a toll on his anxiety.

One could blame him by saying he shouldn't work a job he wasn't mentally equipped for, but only someone deeply desensitized is mentally equipped for the things one saw working on his task force, especially not this time.

For example, the sight of CSI showering you in camera flashes, leaned in close to get a good angle of your blown off head as you slouched in your seat.

It was bloody, messy, splattered across the enclosure of your vehicle, your brain scattered across the place. It wasn't for the weak stomached.

He winced as he watched them pull you out of the car, laying you on the stretcher. Your head gushed and oozed with the movement, leaking across the scene, your hand shriveled, tight around the gun you used to end your life. Even in death, you held it tight, your fingers locked tightly around the trigger.

"Gaz," Price snaps the man out of his trance. "You're doing it again." Gaz sighs at the Captain's words, knowing he was right. He had a bad habit of zoning out at scenes like this, but he did try his best to stay focused.

"You're one of my best men, Gaz. I need ta know you can handle this mission without havin' another episode." "Of course, I can. I've seen worse." His brows furrow, almost taking offensive. He wouldn't dare back out, but he couldn't tell him the real reason why.

"You've seen better and felt worse." Price counters, putting his hands in his pockets. "I know it looks...awful. But if you can't fulfill the job, I can find someone else to fill in for ya." He snorts, backing up as they passed them with your now covered corpse.

Gaz closes his eyes, his skull tingling at the sight of you hidden beneath the thin white sheet, blood seeping through around your head. Seeing you, what was left of your face, shielded by the blanket sent a certain urge through Gaz. Not a sexual urge or a violent urge. It didn't even feel like a human desire. It was something beyond that. A guilty urge. A soul-haggling requirement to make things right.

He felt numb yet prickly all over, weak in the stomach and full of adrenaline. Then suddenly, it was gone. The second they lifted you into the ambulance, the feeling was snatched away from him. Gaz breathes heavily.

"...I-...I can't drop this mission, Captain... It's meant for me." He expresses, watching the ambulance pull off. He couldn't help but want to follow it, even knowing exactly where the thing was headed. "Whateva ya say, Gaz."

12:03am

Gaz can't seem to get himself to sleep, even knowing how snarky he can get if he doesnt get enough rest. He sits elbows out against his computer desk, constantly rewatching the final video you recorded. He knows it's not healthy, but something about your face drew him in, like a sailor to a siren's song.

There was something about the look on your face as you rambled on and on about God knows what, a melancholy smile making it's way onto his face as he watched you prolong your death. For someone talking to themselves, you were a great conversationalist, ignoring all the stuttering and trailed off sentences.

Can't really expect a girl to be calm and collected while she's trying to kill herself, can you?

To Gaz, it didn't really seem like you wanted to die. It seemed like you needed someone to talk to. He felt bad. Guilty. Something was telling him that if he'd gotten to you sooner, he could've talked you out of it. But even with the guilt, he couldn't move past how absolutely gorgeous you were to him. Just...raw, natural, frantic. No facade.

Gaz had a thing for crazy unpredictable women. His whole life, he's been a calm, level-headed guy and he was raised to remain chill in even the most devastating situations, and to help others in need.

So, seeing girls who were always on the verge of a break down, just a second away from chaos, it made him feel...leveled. he felt like he could help them. He wanted to help them. Badly.

He had an awful "I can fix her" mentality, and anytime he finds himself in a situation that he knows he can solve somehow, he feels bad when he doesn't. And he knows he could've helped you. He just...didn't. There was something much he could've done for you.

Bang! He shudders, watching you commit the final act. He was on his third time watching this video and he jumped every. fucking. time. He just could NOT prepare himself to see you die.

He closes his laptop, leaning down into his hands and rubbing his face. "Damn..." he cursed, sighing. "...why'd you do that?..." he asks in a whisper, almost angry that you didn't get the help you needed.

"... I'm sorry..."

His head lifts immediately, heart instantly palpitating. "Breathe, Kyle, Breathe" He tells himself, resetting his breathing patterns slowly but surely. He turns around to see a girl sitting at the edge of his bed. Not just any girl. You.

Your head was in...better condition. It was still put together of not for the smoke coming from the cracks around your eye, resembling the areas that had blown off.

"Oh, ☆☆☆." He turns out of his chair, pulling you close into his arms. "It's okay, baby, its alright." He cradles you against his chest. "It's okay, ☆☆☆...damn, you shoulda called me, girl....you shoulda called me..." He sniffles, clinging onto you like a little girl holding her broken porcelain doll.

"I forgot your number..."

Your voice was blank, monotone, with only a hint of emotion; shame. "I know, honey, I know...that's my fault. I shoulda kept in contact with you...uh, how much do you remember? Do you know who you are? Who I am?"

"..Kyle.."

"That's...that's right. Kyle. That's good. You're not far gone. What am I to you, ☆☆☆? What's our relationship?" He tries gage how much you remember after death. It would determine if you could still stay with him.

"My boyfriend..."

He sighs. You must not remember the breakup. He didn't want you to either. It made him feel awful. Gaz felt he shouldn't have left you during your worse. He knew you were going through so much and he just abandoned you. "Yeah, that's right, angel..."

Oh, his poor baby didn't even know... just dead and clueless. But he'd much wrather you not remember the breakup, knowing damn well that's probably what triggered your suicide in the first place. He wouldn't dare remind you that he was the cause.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

Banner credits go to @ghoulbloggerrr!

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

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

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

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

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

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

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[thybreadmolds]

More of my lovely little monster Au. Gaz was fun. :0)

I need to draw them more.

[bluegiragi]

easy pickings.

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[tame-the-lion-writes]

reader x dog shifter 141 [pt.2]

(If you haven't seen it yet, here's part one.)

It’s been a couple weeks, and you’re starting to catch on to just how smart your dogs are.

Not that you know what they actually are—but they’ve got this weirdly human intelligence behind their eyes, and weirdly human personalities. The Great Dane likes to sit on the recliner in your living room, regal and commanding, often watching your front yard whenever the gardener would come over. The gardener’s son replaced him once for a job, leaving grass cuttings in the driveway, and he was all huffy about it. It amused you at first, but then you realized his judgement wasn’t reserved for strangers. He was even more huffy the time you accidentally burned a steak. (Jeez, since when was he a dad?) Not to mention the empty whiskey glasses he likes to keep around, but that's not right—dogs can't have alcohol, can they?

The German Shepherd, on the other hand, is surprisingly clingy—but not in a bump-into-your-leg or overtly cuddly kind of way. Instead, he follows you while never begging for attention, attentive and patient as though a soldier awaiting orders. You’ve been jump-scared one too many times by his presence, when you think you’re alone and he appears out of thing air. A massive giant of a dog, with paws as silent as a shadow. And he’s stubborn—doesn’t initiate contact, but you swear you’ve caught a subtle bashful glance. Especially when you scratch behind his ears and along the scar of his cheek and chin.

But what the Shepherd lacks in open affection, the Labrador makes up tenfold. He doesn't pester about it, though, simply hopping up to your side on the couch to curl up or placing his muzzle on top of your knees. Still, while probably the most obedient out of the four, you’ve seen him get roped into food heists with the Foxhound, or stalking as closely and silently as the Shepherd. Very much the little brother who tags along with whatever. But you can't stay mad at him for long, either—not when he knows how to apologize—bringing you a freshly chomped-off flower from the backyard whenever you get mad. Then he'll sit at your heels with a faint tail wag, whining 'til you're settled and appeased.

The Foxhound is perhaps the most talkative, in both a noisy and conversational way. His joy is unrelenting around you, and he greats you like you’d expect any other dog. Still, he’s awfully communicative. It’s how you’ve learned their names—with you wandering aloud what to call them, and him making faces at every suggestion. He eventually settled for playing retriever: playing charades by bringing you back bottles and bars of soap. For the Great Dane, he grabbed an old receipt from the trash. For the Shepherd, he threw on a sheet. He seemed awfully confused on what to do for the Labrador, though, and just kept whining as if in apology.

“So Soap, Price, Ghost, and…,” you trail off, glancing at the Labrador with a slight pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I really don’t know what to call you. And Soap here seems like he’s run out of braincells.”

Ghost snorts in amusement, which is returned by Soap’s unfettered glare.

The next morning, though, there really is no explanation as to how Soap learned the alphabet, how to write, or to arrange your bedsheets in the following name: GAZ.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

"Aha... what the fuck."

Price has face-palmed (face-pawed?) and Ghost just walks over and calmly almost slapstick-esque baps Soap on the head. Meanwhile, Gaz looks dejected, pressing his forehead to the front door, like he's expecting you to kick them out in the next five seconds.

Not that you would, of course—but we can queue the mild horror and existential questioning of what the hell these dogs actually are. You call your friend to rant about your theory—that they could be escapees from a top secret government laboratory, or spies from another country. She just says to enter them into a dog show, or make ‘em celebrities on social media.

[heymurada]

CoD Baseball AU: Ghost and Soap relationship speedrun edition, featuring respective hairstyle criticism and exasperated teammates

[mindie-arts]

More cod ponies✨

With pony ghost lore drop🫡✨ + Laswell

[bunnys-kisses]

house sitter au

while they serve their country, you serve them! *salute*

task force 141 are good at what they do. their ranks and medals are impressive, but it's hard coming home. home for them for a long time was a mediocre flat in central london that was vacant most of the year. it didn't help with the loneliness and disconnect the men felt after time abroad.

that's where you came in. an impressive resume and a bit of confidence that if you could handle toddlers, then you could handle four grown men!

when they were home, you helped clean and made meals. when they were away, you got free reign of the entire house. it didn't help that the paycheck every month was impressive.

the one thing they didn't tell you about the job was the lingering gazes of the men who you lived with. they never did anything, they wouldn't do anything without your consent. but when you were in the garden pulling out weeds (when was the last time the lawn was taken care of) you saw price by the doorway with a cup of tea in hand, watching you grumble to yourself. then when you were cooking lunch for yourself, you felt the hot gaze of johnny against your backside as you reached to the top shelf to grab some salt (who put this so high?). then it was simon's eyes on your lips as you enjoyed some ice cream after a long day dusting (how were these guys not sneezing from all the dust!). finally it was gaz who made a comment about how you looked nice when you were scrubbing the floors. he laughed it off as a joke, but the way he looked at you was a little more heated.

four pairs of eyes lingered on every part of your body, even the parts that you were insecure about. to end up in bed with them wasn't hard. it first started with the captain, then you made your way through the ranks.

price was burly and strong, he had you pinned under him on his large bed. his hands on your hips as he buried his cock into you. your ass in the air but your upper half was flat against the mattress, price soon interwove his fingers with yours as he thrusted into your sweet cunt. you realized soon after that he really liked when you called him captain. or better yet, daddy. you didn't know that you reeked of daddy issues, but price could smell it from a mile away. but don't worry, daddy's got ya. when he was finished fucking you, he'd play with your overstimulated clit while he smoked. he made sure to exhale away from you. he was the first however to punish you when you were being a 'bad' girl. sometimes it was shining his boots, other times you were the one getting his boots dirty. (hope you like rough laces against your soaked clit!)

johnny was a wild card. he liked to bite. and it wasn't like his teeth were too blunt to cause any damage. after the first time you were with him, you made him go to the drug store to buy you concealer to cover the jackson pollock-esque hickeys on your neck! he offered to buy you a collar to wear inside and you narrowed your eyes at him. "if anyone here needs a collar it's you, mactavish." but he could also be so sweet. while he liked it fast and rough, he always made sure his number one girl got to finish as well. usually before him. his kisses were sloppy, he was like a dog sometimes. his favourite place to fuck you however was in the yard outside. he usually have to shove his thick fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. no one needed to know just how NEEDY you were for his cock. the number of times the other men caught him just pounding your sweet cock, using that strength of his to his advantage was something else. and of course, when they caught you, they hung around. three other men watching you face down in the grass with johnny having you by the hips. his praise his filthy, almost degrading. you were his special girl, but you were also a massive whore. but don't worry, bonnie, johnny will happily fuck any hole you have open.

simon was difficult. he only found out that your legs were open for business after he heard you and johnny going at it. the sound of the bed creaking and the scottsman's filthy tongue. but unlike johnny, simon was a little too big for you. while your sexual encounters started with oral and fingering. he managed to get just the tip in. but it wasn't enough, he eventually sank every last inch. the feeling took the wind out of you and you couldn't sit right for days after. his pace was slow, methodical. he watched you with a keen eye. the rise and fall of your chest, the noises you made. he knew he was selfish for taking so much of you, but you were unlike anyone else. after that, he started to take his mask off more. if you saw (and felt) his cock, you might as well see what was under the mask. cue a lot of worship from you, kissing at his heavily scarred body. he'd just hold you in his arms while you were in his lap.

kyle was the sweetest which compared to the other hulking men you were living with. it wasn't a hard bar to clear. all of them complimented you, but kyle was the one who'd bring you flowers when he returned from a mission. he mostly liked to keep his intimate time with you in his bedroom. his favourite position was to take you on your side. him spooning you as he thrusted his cock into your tight pussy. his nose in your hair as he moved against you. he knew the other men were taking your pussy for a joy ride, so he wanted to make love to you. flowers, candles, sweet nothings. the only problem was, instead him wanting to jump your bones. you wanted to jump HIS bones. you got loads of body worship from him, lots of praise to. he also liked when you called him by his rank, while not AS impressive as captain or lieutenant, it was still something he was proud of. he'd take you missionary style but a lot of the time, loved having you on top. with the afternoon light bathing your body in golden rays. he rarely left marks or bruises. no one needed to see what you two did in your off time. it was a secret for him and him alone. regardless of how you two fucked, he was the king of after care, letting you rest as he would read to you. either the book he had picked up while away or an article on his phone. he chuckled when he heard you snoring.

but sometimes, it was hard to choose between two of them at a time. so you ended up with both johnny and simon's cock pushed inside of you. your mouth hung open and your mind drawing a blank. but don't worry, they're worshiping your cunt. cooing about how sweet it is that you can take BOTH of them. of course you could! you were made for them. your stomach feels dense after they cum inside you about three times. the feeling of their cum in your gut makes your lethargic and just curl up after they get their fill.

other times its kyle and price. while they aren't pushing your pussy to its absolute limit. it still takes a lot out of you. you were on the floor of price's bedroom, riding the captain while facing kyle who had his cock in your face. as you moved your hips against the older man, your mouth and hand were on the sergeant's cock. you found out that both men liked it when you were covered in their cum, not push it inside of you as deep as they could.

when those who hired you asked how the job was going after a few months. you meekly asked what the health insurance policy was and did it cover birth control *hides face*

(you'd find out within a year that no amount of pills, iuds, rings or implants could stop one of those boys from giving you a baby)

<3

[screamingviridianforest]

Smth smth thinking about reader being an escaped shifter experiment, escaped from the US to hide in Britain

You try to act like a normal civilian, but the urge to shift is building to be intolerable. So why fight it? It's easier to live as a cat anyway, maybe someone could take you in.

What you didn't expect was for 4 giant, bulky, military men to find you. They'd found you in an alleyway near a fish restaurant, searching for scraps. The one wearing the weird mask had been the one to pick you up.

Then, the other 3 rushed over after hearing your yowling. The damn masked bastard had you scruffed!

"I found a cat."

Wow. Brilliant observation.

"Simon, it's a stray."

"I was a stray."

There was a snort, "C'mon Cap, it's kinda cute, isn't it?"

You hiss indignantly, you were not an it! The one with a mohawk reaches out to you, letting you sniff his fingers.

"We do not need a cat, Soap don't touch it. Who knows what it has."

"It's too clean to be a stray, ah doubt it's a stray. Give 'er here, LT."

The masked man hands you over, and you're quick to scramble onto the mohawk man's shoulder, wrapping around his neck. You growl a little in your displeasure, but don't swat.

"See! Docile, little thing, aren't ya!"

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt.2)

As the weeks went on, Gaz and Soap would constantly try to pull you into the walk-in. But Simon's stare made you stop dead in your tracks every time. You've resorted to going over to their place, it's always a surprise who's gonna end up on top of who. During breaks between rounds, you'll catch up on a show you were all watching or playing video games and eating snacks. It's light, fun, young, energetic.

"The boys keeping you satisfied?"

Price asks during one of your smoke breaks, he's leaning against the railing again. Your eyes dart to the floor, embarrassed.

"I could take proper care of you."

The words drip from his mouth and run up your legs, making you squirm. He chuckles, a deep rumble from his broad chest.

"I'll pick you up 7 tonight."

Flicks the butt of his cigar onto the wet cement before walking back into the kitchen. Your hand shakes as you finish your cigarette.

The outing was nice, he took you out on a real date. You wore a tasteful dress that he was obsessed with the moment he saw you in it.

Made you order something expensive from the menu.

"Gotta keep you well fed, hm?"

You couldn't argue with him, he held an air of authority even outside of the kitchen. Conversation was pleasant, he kept it appropriate. Actually, that whole time he was an absolute gentleman. Walked you up to your flat. You gave him an anxious kiss that made him laugh softly and you quickly slipped into your studio. You pressed your back to the door, heart pounding. You squinted through the peephole and watched as he turned around, walking away. As soon as you swung your door open, he was stepping inside your place and scooping you up. He gripped your ass while holding you up, his hands positioned in a way that allowed him to rub your folds through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Already wet? Knew you'd be a good girl for me."

You melted in his arms at those words. Gently laid you right on the bed, pulling back to slip off your heels and left kisses from your ankle to inner thigh. He moaned when you giggled from his beard brushing against your soft thighs.

"Fuckin dogs, markin you up like your theirs."

His lips grazed over the hickeys Gaz and Soap left on your hips and thighs. He pulled the dress up and over your shoulders.

"Those sexy fuckin eyes of yours, Christ."

He kneeled over you, taking you in. Your moans, touch, smell, all that was left was your taste. He sunk back down between your legs and had you coming faster and harder than Soap or Gaz. He was down there for hours, only coming up to briefly cram his thick dick into your tight hole just long enough to leave you being for more when he pulled out. So much restraint he had. Only reason he finally finished was because he had to get up early tomorrow. Painted your sore walls with thick ropes of his spend,

"G'na take it all like a good girl, yeah?"

He held your face to muffle your moans with his mouth while he finished pumping into you. Wouldn't even clean you up, just gently pushed whatever leaked out of you back inside. Then he held you close and fell asleep, effectively trapping you in his arms. He ends up driving you to work the next day, taking you in early so he can prep with Ghost. Simon seems more grumpy than usual (it's because he's the one who's supposed to drive you to work, creature of habit he is).

"I'll let you pick her up next time. Don't get mad at me for being a gentleman."

Price sighs while portioning out meat. You swear you see Simon huff.

The drive home was silent as usual, but there was a tension that wasn't present before. Sure, there's been an uneasy or awkward air in the car before, but this was different. You needed it to stop being quiet.

"...sorry for not telling you about John taking me today."

You sat on your hands, staring at the veiny hand gripping the gear lever.

"S'alright, he told me."

His tone was unreadable as ever. He parked in front of your building, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes. You shifted uncomfortably, about to open your mouth to say something.

"G'night."

He interrupted, you nod and step out of his car to your door. You fumble with your keys and turn around to invite him in, he's already locking his car door and headed towards you. Oh fuck.

He doesn't even let you take your shoes off, just flops you onto the edge of the bed and haphazardly pulls down your jeans and underwear, folding you in half.

"Open."

He grunts, shoving two fingers into your mouth, getting them slick with your spit. He roughly fingers your sweet spot until you are overwhelmed with pleasure, then he undoes his pants. You gasp. Literally gasp at the sight of his length.

"That's not going in me."

You blink at him. He looks at you, stroking himself.

"Alright."

He shrugs before slapping his shaft on your wet folds, then rubbing himself against you. He goes at this for what seems like forever, occasionally his tip catches in your entrance before he slides out and continues to grind against you. It's maddening. Finally, you break and beg for him to slide himself in. He does so with no hesitation or concern for your poor walls. Bullies his way inside you until you physically can't take anymore and pounds into you ruthlessly. He covers your mouth with a rough hand while the other toys with your nub. You squeal, yelp, moan. It's all muffled; only to be heard by his ears.

"Atta girl, takin it like a champ."

You were barely keeping it together, each hit to your cervix made you see stars. It hurt. It was heaven. Your eyes rolled back.

"Don't look away from me."

He grabbed your face, making you stare right into his brown eyes. That's what pushed you over the edge, he rode out your orgasm before reaching his. Your heavy breaths filled the room. That's when he finally decides to pull off your shoes and pants. He was surprisingly good at aftercare, made you both some tea (why did he know where everything was?), wiped you down, and put on some cooking competition show. He was into it. Very into it.

"How do you fuck up beurre monté?"

He says to himself, shaking his head while the contestant on TV cried about messing up a sauce. It goes on like this for a while, shitting on chefs choices and mistakes. Your stomach rumbles, he looks at you. Offers to make something. You remember how the food at the restaurant gets sent back. A lot. Decline politely. He walks to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. You'd say something, but you know you can't stop him. Twenty minutes later he hands you a plate,

"Shakshuka."

It looks...edible. He sits at the end of your bed, eating and watching his show. You take a spoonful into your mouth. Fucking delicious.

"Best I could do with what you had."

He made himself home, slept like he paid the bills, splayed out and snored louder than a Harley. Pinned you right under his arm, mouth right next to your ear. You barely get any sleep.

The next day you drag your feet back and forth from the kitchen.

"Fuckin hell Simon, you kept her up all night?"

John shook his head, burning another steak. Simon grunted, plating the meat and placing it on the window. You served the food to the customer and walked back to the kitchen.

"That's my hoodie."

Soap pointed at Ghost. It was obviously Soap's, they were both well built but Simon's arms and chest stretched the fabric.

"So?"

Simon shrugged, sweeping the floor.

"So? I gave it to her."

"S'fine, she has enough of your shit."

Soap looked at you, betrayed. You shrug, you were too tired to even notice what Simon was wearing.

"Didnae ye notice yer favorite hoodie was gone?"

He looked at you, eyes sad and blindingly blue.

"Give it a rest Johnny."

"'But it's 'er favorite. Right bonnie?"

You nod (you don't have a favorite, but obviously he needs this) and he sighs in relief, smile plastered on his face. Pesters Simon to give him back the hoodie.

"Keep it somewhere safe, aye?"

He hands it to you, holding it like it was a damn fabergé egg.

While Simon and you were walking to his car, Kyle and Johnny run after you, insisting on seeing your place,

"What, only they get to see your flat? It's not fair."

So puerile, Ghost rolled his eyes.

They oohed and aahed at your flat, fawning over your decor. You're thankful for splurging on a king sized mattress. Gaz slept like an angel, but Johnny? Even in his sleep he was restless, kicking and talking. You make a note not to have Ghost and him over at the same time.

Two days later, Johnny almost drops to his knees when he sees Simon in your 'favorite hoodie' again.

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

as a cheeky birthday treat to price, the force makes the drive to the nearest hooters. they're in the states for a mission and the restaurants dot many of the towns they drive through. sure there are a few back home, but it's an experience. one they want to enjoy thoroughly.

when their waitress comes up, they stare wayyyy to long for her comfort. which is how you get swapped with her. you're known for being able to handle customers like this. you don't balk when they stare down your shirt, just turn and ask if you can get them anything else. they're pieces of work tonight, but they're polite and keep their hands to themselves.

they become regulars after that. they have to after seeing you smile wide (although not at them) during the birthday song for price. they always ask for your section and make small talk while flirting. one of them usually leaves their number on the receipt with a healthy tip, but you don't budge.

they show you how good and capable they are for taking care of you. they know its wrong to solicit someone during their work, but it's just this once (they've decided to not approach you elsewhere, no matter how much johnny pouts. doesnt mean they arent watching). simon breaks the fingers of the man who groped you saturday night, kyle knifed the fucker hiding around the side of your car, and johnny slashed your touchy manager's tires. you don't really know about these things, but john's tips alone should show you how well they can take care of you!

you slowly warm up to them. you learn their names and where they're from. they don't come on as strong anymore, but its obvious they're still interested when one of them walks you to your car. sometimes you'll wear their jacket and an arm will be around your waist. possessive glare on any another man who dares to look your direction.

when they come in after longer than normal time away, they see you with a little crown with pink fuzz around the bottom and "birthday girl" written in diamonds on it. youre obviously unhappy about the kid's crown so they don't say anything, yet their smirks tell it all. price buys you a dessert when you're finished with your shift. to their surprise you squish in beside price. you let them call you "love" and "doll." johnny even feeds you a spoonful and gaz wipes your chin when you get a crumb.

it's about time you come around to their affection. they've been waiting so long and so faithfully. they have everything you need in their flat, so why don't you quit on the way out the door. call your landlord and tell him that you're moving out soon. you're truly theirs now. happy birthday, darling.

[yakowo]

(Biker AU) don't think they heard him at all

[beloveds-embrace]

part two of dukedom!141 . please dont ask why johnny and simon aren't in it and why itss end is so abrupt bc tumblr fucked me over twice while trying to save it 😭😭

You could have never expected this. When you had come to your darling husband with your request, you hadn’t known what to expect at all. But you could have never expected this.

“Are you awake, my Duchess?”

My Duchess. Such a simple thing, even used before, but now it rang so differently in your ears. You don’t want to turn around and face John, but he doesn’t give you the choice.

The hands on your waist, on the hand-shaped bruises lining your hips, gently turn you around on the bed so that your bare chest is pressed against John’s. You believe the quilts on top of the both of you are unnecessary, because you, yourself, are already running hotter than a furnace and you wonder if he feels it.

“John…”

“My Duchess.” He sighs again, leaning down to kiss your neck, the soft skin littered with hickeys. Distantly, you make note of the fact that you are clean and wearing fresh undergarments, as is John. He must have cleaned the both of you after last night…

Last night. Just thinking about it is making you feel even warmer, burying your face in John’s broad shoulders even as he hums and continues to trail kisses up your jaw.

How were you supposed to know that your husband is one, big, jealous bastard who is simply too good at hiding it?

“…I feel as if there has been a misunderstanding, darling,” John had said to you, after Kyle had silently dismissed himself and John had rounded the table to kneel in front of your shocked self. Taking your hands in his, he had stared at you with his full attention. “You have been unsatisfied, and I failed to see it. I apologize, wife.”

“John, what-“

“I feel as if I’ve failed you in general, truthfully,”

“You haven’t! John-“

He kisses the back of your hands, and that silences you. “Wife, have I ever made you feel as if I would not honor your wants and needs?” This time, he waits for you to reply and it takes you a second, blinking down at him.

“…no.”

John’s face twists just so slightly, though you still can’t understand what he’s feeling or thinking. “Then, have I ever made you feel as if I would withhold anything from you?”

“…no, John.”

“Then why go to Graves?” John’s voice lowers to a grumble, his brows furrowing. Such an expression isn’t one you are so used to seeing on him, and you dislike it.

His question makes you pause, biting your lips. You want to close your eyes, ignore the warmth in your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him for long before you are sighing softly.

“I feel so… bereft, John.” You admit softly, squeezing his hands back. “Bereft of love. You treat me so well, all of you do, but it’s just-… I want to feel love, John.”

John observes you for a little longer, then he speaks. “And you believe Graves loves you?”

“…no.” Though it hurt to admit, you were never one to lie or blind yourself. “He doesn’t, even if he says he can. But he is willing to give me affection and that is far more than I could ever possibly ask of you, John.”

You could tell that Graves saw you simply as an ends to a means he never thought he’d have the opportunity to have. But you were desperate, and you didn’t want to bother John, or cause a controversy that couldn’t be easily hidden. You wanted affection, love, fake as it may be.

The way he viewed you was nothing new to you, of course. You were a tool from the moment you were born; a glorified breeding stock, just one fortunate enough to be born rich. You weren’t meant to be anything more than that but here, you had it all. Almost. What little else you lacked you were sure Graves could give, even if you wished it was-

“But it’s not.”

Eyes widening, you look at him and wait for him to elaborate, thoughts drifting away.

“It’s not far more than you could ask of me, wife.” John tells you. He moves your hands open, kissing your palms. “I understand how you see it now. Did you truly believe that I don’t love you? That Kyle, Johnny, and Simon don’t love you?”

On top of your wide eyes, your jaw now slackens, staring at him in silence. But he is truthful; that much you can easily tell.

“Duchess, you are my Duchess.” John breathes out, now pecking the ring adorning your ring finger. “My wife. I adore you far more than that fool could ever hope to adore you. Had I known this was how you felt, I would have fixed it in a heartbeat so much sooner.”

“What do you mean-“ because surely he doesn’t mean that. Surely he doesn’t mean what you think he means, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to even hope for. No, no, you are misunderstanding it-

“Duchess,” John sighs your name so fondly it leaves you breathless, left stunned in front of him. “If it’s love you want, I will give it to you. If it’s affection and intimacy you want, I will give it to you. Not just me- all of us, my Duchess. But should you still truly want Graves,” and here, John’s face twitches again though this time you can see that it practically pains him to say the words. “Then I will personally make sure no matter what happens, he will not hurt you or besmirch your reputation.”

Silnce follows his words as he waits for you. Your hands are now trembling in his grasp, stomach twisting painfully. You don’t dare to hope, to reach out even if he’s offering what you want and more on a silver platter.

“John…” you whisper out, afraid that speaking any louder will shatter this moment. “John. Do you- do you truly mean it? Please, John-“

“I do, I do. I always will.” He says, again and again and again, hands cupping your face now so you can see the absolute truth in his eyes. At last, he stands up. John doesn’t give you a moment to think before he is scooping you into his embrace, a wicked grin now on his face.

“Now,” he practically purrs, squeezing you close to the hard muscles of his body. Your cheeks are warm anew, unable to look away from your husband. “My wife said she is unsatisfied, no? I ought to fix that, don’t you agree, Duchess?”

“O- oh, but you work-“

“Wife comes first, of course. And perhaps we can consider talking about the little baby name list you’ve been hiding, my dear.”

“John!”

"I have so many meetings today," John groans softly, one hand raising your chin so he can kiss you once, and then twice afterwards. He leans down, burying his face right between your breasts, and after a few seconds of contemplation you begin scratching your nails across his scalp ever so lightly.

The sound he lets out alone is enough to reignite heat in your belly. To think such a handsome man now is yours... several handsome men...

"So many meetings," John repeats with a sigh, his beard pleasantly tickling your skin. Big, warm hands slide down your waist, caressing where your thighs meet your ass, squeezing the soft plush. "I won't have time for lunch today with you, my dear. But my boys will take such good care of you, promise."

You just let him caress you as he pleases; there's something so inherently admiring, devoted, in the way he touched you then and now. You feel so loved under his touch, whyever would you pull away?

Still, you do look down at him. "Are you sure they don't mind... me, John?" You can't help but ask, such a nervous and worrisome thing. John wishes you'd put yourself first just once, but they have plenty of time to show you each how much they love you.

"Yes." He replies easily, chuckling. "Darling, I'm afraid you'll have a harder time prying them off. Now up, I believe Kyle has already prepared a bath for you. He just went to get you an outfit for today. He'll be the one helping you today, if you'd let him, of course."

And oh, what a bath he's prepared for you; candles alight, rose petals delicately strewn around and in the warm, oil-scented steaming water, and Kyle's fingers crooked deep in you while he murmurs of what a lovely, perfect wife you are for them <33

dukedom au masterlist

[bluegiragi]

wing thing

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[cicadabeats]

Pikmin TF 141