#not because they were afraid of not having a bar of soap if they had to leave the house quick

[erisolkat]

maybe a lot of things would have been a lot clearer faster if we had already acknowledged the fact that it's odd that i've spent the entirety of my life extensively prepping for some nebulous disaster that would require me to jump out the window with just an easily grabbable container of essentials and the clothes on my back

[ghcstao3]

siren ghost and sailor soap?

sort of inspired by the pirates of the caribbean sirens scene because it’s one of my favourite things of that series. also i got a little carried away

-

Over the many, many years of traversing the Seven Seas for his life’s work, Soap has become intimately familiar with the abundant myths and legends about the ocean and what lies beneath.

Of course, most of these hold no truth. Most of these are only mere stories to quell the anxieties of sailors, or to provide reasoning to strange occurrences seemingly otherwise unexplainable.

Sirens are, unfortunately, the exception.

Ruthless, ravenous creatures—they’re the worst fear of any sailor who knows the worth of his own life, and like most things that make mortal men afraid, they’ve been transformed into weapons.

Soap only knows that sirens are real because of what happens to many prisoners at sea—from the brig they’re moved to rowboats without paddles, abandoned and forced to sing until the sirens appear to lure them into the water, where flesh would be torn from bone with razor sharp teeth.

It’s a terrifying sight. The creatures are like sharks called to blood with the way they appear, like piranhas with the way they feast.

It’s horrifying. Fascinating. And Soap has vowed to never let himself end up on one of those boats.

But alas. Fate has other plans for him.

Soap had been reluctant to join the crew of Captain Philip Graves when presented with the opportunity, but the pay promised had been good, the work simple, and the destination somewhere he’s never been.

But what Soap hadn’t realized is that Graves likes to take prisoners. He likes to engage in unfair combat with other ships, and operates almost like a pirate, though not explicitly enough to be considered one himself.

Soap realizes his mistake far too late when he wanders down to the brig one night, otherwise unable to sleep. They’re two weeks into their voyage by now, and Soap knows there’s people in the jail—but he hadn’t known the state of them.

Most already without a secure amount of food outside their makeshift cell, they’re emaciated, wasting away in the hull of the vessel. They’re barely responsive when Soap knocks on the bars of the hold and pokes someone’s damp shoulder. Someone weakly latches onto Soap’s sleeve and begs for nothing in particular, and he feels awful for not having known about this sooner.

So he begins sneaking them food, brings them drink. Squirrels away what extra he can without anyone noticing he’s stopped finishing his meals.

Except someone must notice. Because, nearing the end of their journey, Graves is waking him in the dead of night and pulling him into the Captain’s quarters.

Soap swallows the pounding heartbeat in his throat as Graves slowly crosses the room to take a seat at his desk. He’s never liked the man, not one bit—but this just feels unnecessary. Taunting.

“A little bird tells me you’ve been keeping our prisoners fed,” Graves drawls. “Even though, from what I recall, prisoners are the enemy. I don’t suppose you really have been helping them out, have you, MacTavish?”

It’s a trap, Soap knows. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell Graves’s question isn’t really a question at all. Graves has his answer, and waits on Soap’s response if only to entertain him with the idea of escape.

Soap knows just as well that there’s hardly a point in trying to lie.

He lifts his chin as he looks straight into Graves’s eyes to tell him, “I have been. They’re still people.”

Graves chuckles lowly, rising from his seat. He rounds the desk, sitting back on its edge with his arms folded across his chest.

It might be intimidating, if Soap were anyone else. If he were a lesser man.

“Well, then—since you like ‘em so much,” Graves says, “surely you won’t mind joining them.”

Soap supplies Graves with no visible reaction. He doesn’t fight as Graves calls for his men to throw Soap in the brig, doesn’t put up any fuss as they try to cajole him.

If Soap has to be imprisoned for doing what’s right, then he at least won’t let Graves have the satisfaction of knowing Soap’s internal panic.

Because Soap knows what Graves plans to do with his prisoners. He’s known all along.

He predicts they’re maybe a day from port when they’re shoved off the ship and ordered into the decaying rowboat, left to drift away—not too far, however, as they’re still tethered to the ship. Because once all prisoners have been drowned, the boat will be reeled back and used again the next time Graves and his crew venture out to terrorize the waters.

No one has the energy to sing, to lure their cruel punishment to them. Soap’s half-convinced some of the others might just jump into the water on their own.

But they have to sing. Especially when a bullet ricochets off the boat and splinters the wood as encouragement.

Despite his time spent out at sea, Soap isn’t overly familiar with many shanties. He just follows along with whatever is mumbled in a weak tune, dreading as the volume builds with a second bullet, and the water below begins to churn. Glancing over the edge, Soap swears he sees the flash of a tail.

The first one appears shortly, singing along to the song like she’s entirely familiar with the melody. Soap feels the pull, though perhaps not as strongly as he imagined he would, if ever he ended up in these circumstances.

He wonders, briefly and distantly, if it has to do with the fact that he’s not really all that into women.

Soap snorts. Wouldn’t that be something.

But as more sirens appear, the pull grows stronger. Soap begins to feel swayed by the song, gone from muttered and off-kilter to something beautiful, hypnotic. The boat bobs with the weight of their new company and the prisoners that rush to the sides to get a better look at the sirens as if they aren’t the dangerous creatures they’re known to be.

Still, though, Soap isn’t completely compelled to join them in the water. He stays put in the centre and grounds his teeth—though he does gasp and reach out when the first prisoner is pulled under, and red soon blossoms across the surface of the water.

Then he appears.

The whole world seems to disappear for just a moment, when Soap looks into big, brown eyes.

The siren’s voice is deeper than the rest, soothing, and though Soap’s hindbrain screams at him that hidden behind the enchanting exterior, the porcelain skin and the straw-blond hair, there lives evil—he can’t help but lean in.

As Soap gets closer, the boat continuing to rock as more prisoners fall victim, the siren’s singing pauses just long enough for him to offer Soap a smile, saccharine, close-lipped. He reaches out an arm to Soap, calloused fingers caressing Soap’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

Soap can’t help but melt into the touch, its simultaneous warmth and coolness, subconsciously chasing it as it retracts, eyes fluttering shut with a short, pleased sigh.

But with the singing fading from the others, Soap’s eyes suddenly snap open. The siren still holds him, still leads Soap with that gentle touch and deceptively kind gaze, but Soap resists. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten to leaning halfway over the edge of the boat, but he scrambles backward to the opposite side, as far as he can get from this siren.

Soap comes to the startling realization that he’s the only one left.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” the siren croons. He props himself up on the edge of the boat, arms thick with corded muscle to show the real power of this creature. He leans forward, the boat tilting with his added weight. “I don’t bite.”

Soap glances nervously about the empty rowboat, gaze accidentally straying the bloodstained waters that surround them.

“I beg to differ,” Soap says weakly.

The siren laughs softly before slowly sinking back into the water. The boat sways. Soap shakes.

Everything goes silent for a suspiciously long moment before there’s a disturbance in the water and the siren appears at the side of the boat where Soap has taken refuge. He’s singing quietly again and Soap feels that pull, so he moves away, screws his eyes shut, and jams his fingers in his ears in an attempt to block it out.

It doesn’t work, not when the singing gets louder, and Soap’s attempt is rendered useless.

“Shut up,” Soap growls. “Please just shut. Up.”

The singing does cease, though only to make way for a deep, full laughter that is somehow tugging on Soap’s conscience with more force than any melody so far.

When Soap blinks his eyes open, the siren is perched on the edge of the boat, arms splayed one on top of the other, his head resting over them. He’s smiling, even once his laughter has died down, a glint of something in his dark eyes—maybe not quite sinister, but certainly mischievous.

“They’re not letting you back on that ship, you know,” the siren says, as if it isn’t obvious. “So you can either come with me—“

“And what? Be drowned? Eaten?” Soap snaps. “Thanks, but I’d rather rot right here.”

“Suit yourself,” the siren hums.

To Soap’s surprise, he actually disappears back into the water. And despite the waves—the ocean seems to have finally calmed.

Maybe Soap did have the tiny, illogical hope that he’d be brought back to the ship. Maybe Soap did have the tiny, logical hope that this siren would just put him out of his misery.

Either way, now he just sits in silence, listening to waves lap up against the hull as the rowboat rocks lazily with the current. Though the peace surely only stretches on for a few minutes, it feels like hours.

Stupidly, Soap goes to inspect the depths. To make certain he’s really been left alone.

Because that’s when he’s pulled in.

Soap barely has time to yell out before his mouth is filled with the overwhelming, stinging taste of salt, unfamiliar arms wrapping securely around his frame so he can’t wriggle free. His shouts are muffled by the water, and he feels the cold soak into his bones as he’s dragged deeper and deeper. The light fades, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

The last thing Soap sees is the siren’s grin, all fangs and malice before everything goes black.

But then, after an unknown amount of time—Soap wakes up to the slow drip, drip, drip of water on a stone floor.

He’s in a cave.

He’s in a cave, and there’s a light source somewhere, and the siren is watching him.

Soap coughs, clearing water from his lungs. He chokes out, “Why… what did you—“

The siren shrugs. “I don’t eat people I like.”

Soap frowns, still coughing. “You…”

“Call me Ghost,” the siren says, then dives into the pool he’d been wading in at the entrance of the cave, and swims away—long, elegant tail flicking behind him as he leaves.

And while many, many thought swirl around Soap’s head as he gradually gathers his bearings about the situation, the clearest of them all is also the simplest; what the hell kind of a name is Ghost?

If only he could guess.

And if only he could know what’s meant to happen to him next.

[mrsparrasblog]

Speak now

You and Simon were an unusual pair, at least that's what everyone said about you. You remember how Gaz and Soap laughed for an hour straight when you told them the news that you and Simon were together. You saved people, he killed people; that’s what people saw.

But you saw something different in Simon. He wasn’t tough or aggressive or anything that people told you around the base. In fact, you never had a boyfriend who was so gentle towards you, always afraid to hurt you by accident.

His fear was what finally broke you apart all those years ago. He was afraid to hurt you, to corrupt you with his sins, or even worse, to get you killed like everyone else who cared about him. It was just over.

-----------------------------------------------------

Three years later...

The day finally came: your wedding day, the day you waited more than a decade for. You remembered how you always planned your wedding since you were four. Over the years, the planning became only more intense. You wanted a big wedding cake, peonies everywhere, and no roses in sight; that was too ordinary for you. A dress that embraced your body type instead of hiding it, and definitely a winter wedding since you hated summer; too hot for a wedding, imagine getting sunburned on your wedding day? Terrible.

Your ex-boyfriend Simon always laughed about it, telling you this was the most incredibly dumb thought when it came to a wedding. But he promised you if you tied the knot, you’d get a winter wedding, maybe even a few days before Christmas with a hot chocolate bar, a Christmas tree with signed ornaments from every guest, and a honeymoon in NYC to see Christmas and New Year's Eve there.

So, how did you end up here? It was July, 32 degrees Celsius, and you were sweating your makeup off, which was the worst case since you hid your sunburn under it. Simon would laugh at the irony; of course he would. Then he would tell you some stupid dad joke about sunburns, and you would roll your eyes at him, trying to hide your laughter because it was too embarrassing to admit that you loved every one of his jokes.

But you were here in the church right now, and Simon was only a guest, not your groom, and it was better this way. Simon wasn’t ready to settle down with you; he didn't want kids and everything you wanted, and he was always afraid of committing to you. You just never knew why.

A few months after your breakup, you met James. He was one of the lawyers working for the military and, finally a non-soldier, someone who wanted to settle down with you. He proposed only after a year, and it was magical, at least you thought so.

How didn’t you recognize the signs? How have you never gone out with Price, who was like a Dad to you since your engagement? How you stopped singing and dancing in the shower? How you lost weight only to please him, and how you were stuck in a nightmare wedding?

Well, you should cut him some slack, you thought. It wasn’t that horrible; it was only horrible for you. Other women would love the pile of roses, the tent of a dress you wore, the summer wedding; everything was fine just from a different perspective.

"This will be the happiest day of your life," you mumbled between your breaths as you looked into the mirror, finalizing the last bits of makeup.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," John hummed, giving you an approving look. You couldn’t contain yourself from hugging him. John was only 10 years older than you, but he grew into a father figure for you. He almost cried when you asked him to walk you down the aisle.

"Thank you, John."

"If you don’t want this, say the word, and I will drive you home."

"John, I want this."

The church was filled to the brim with his and your friends, well, mostly his friends and family. Most of your friends avoided you since your engagement. At least Kyle, Soap, and John were there. You asked Simon if he’d come too; he wasn’t sure at first, but he said he'd come. You needed him there; he was your best friend after all - well, he was before you broke up.

John took your hand, and with him, you walked towards James. Everyone looked at you, and despite everything you didn’t like, you were indeed the most beautiful bride there ever was. Your bridesmaids stood at the altar in their maroon-shaded dresses, smiling towards you. James smiled at you; he didn’t cry, but that's okay; you knew he was more than happy to be here today, with you. But your eyes searched for him; was Simon there?

As everyone stood up, you noticed him, looking down at you with a faint smile. He wore a suit, something you had never seen him wear before. The fabric was stretched across his broad shoulders; the suit trousers were too short for his full height, so his ankles were visible. But despite this, he looked incredible, and without a mask, just for you - he left it at home for you. He was the only one not smiling at you - not important right now. John gave you to James, being the best actor anyone had seen; he hid his despise towards James so well.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Th' bride looks absolutely bonny, dinnae ye think sae, Lt.?"

"Go fuck yourself, Johnny."

"Would dae it, bit it wid be a tad disrespectful oan a bridle," Johnny chuckled with a boyish grin while Garrick shot him a death stare, clearly annoyed by Johnny's unableness to behave.

Simon didn’t want to go to the fucking wedding, as if it wasn’t worse enough to know how much he fucked up by breaking up with you. No, he needed to watch that shit now; it was worse than all the torture he endured in his life. He would have said no; he really should have if you hadn’t looked at him with your dear eyes. How could he say no to you? He was just a man after all.

And now he was punished, watching the love of his life marry a bloody wanker. A lawyer, as if you would be happy with that suit-wearing superficial idiot. No, you always wanted and deserved a real man, someone who’d kill for you, someone like him, someone who wouldn’t mind getting dirty for you, someone who respected your wishes. Someone who knew how much you hated summer weddings, roses, and this dress.

Well, you still looked like the most beautiful woman on earth, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the thoughts away that this was not like you; this wasn’t you. That's not what he could give you if he hadn’t been such a bloody coward.

He looked at you and tried to smile; that's the least he could do after giving you up. "Dear friends, and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between the two of them. If you are willing to support the love between the two, then please answer, 'Yes, we will.'"

"Yes, we will," was chanted from the various people at the church, just not from him and Price, who looked more stern than usual.

-------------------------------------------------------------

(Three years ago...)

"Why do you think this is romantic? She left a poor bloke at the altar," Simon looked at you confused at your choice of movie for Netflix and chill.

"If you know, you know, Simon. Just thinking, if you love someone so much, you can be egotistical, you know."

"You’re weird, love," he chuckled while pulling you closer into his embrace.

"If I ever marry, I want a winter wedding with Christmas trees and hot cocoa and snow, lots of snow."

"You'll freeze to death in the dress, love."

"At least no sunburn."

"I've been taking Viagra for my sunburn. It doesn’t cure it, but it keeps the sheets off my legs."

"You're not funny, Simon Riley."

This is not right; everything feels wrong about this for him. And when he looked at you, noticing your eyes were focused on him instead of James, the doubt was gone. He stood up, ignoring the glances from everyone in the room; only you were important now. Who cares if he fucks up, as long as he has you back?

"I love you. I know I'm a fucking bastard for not telling you this ages ago, but I always loved you since the day you bloody screamed at me in the hospital. I love your craziness, your messy hair in the morning, and how you always sing in the shower even if you can't fucking sing. I love you, and I know this isn’t your thing; everything comes with me. Let me be the man you deserve."

Silence. Everyone in the room was torn between anger, silence, and somehow happiness. You knew what you were about to do was the most selfish thing in your life. You gave James an apologetic glance, and much to Simon's surprise, you ran towards him, or more of waddled, which made the whole situation awkward; you really should have trained to walk in your wedding heels. Of course, he scooped you up, running with you out of the church like a madman, putting you in the front seat of his trashy SUV.

"I didn't think you’d agree."

"Me neither."

"I'm glad you did."

"So what now, Simon?"

"Marry me, love; make an honest man out of me. I'll give you everything you want: kids, a corgi, even though shepherds are superior, and I'll build a damn house for you with a bloody wrap-around porch, everything for you, just be Mrs. Riley."

You couldn’t contain your happiness anymore, so you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. "Yes, yes, Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you too, always."

[tojisun]

Riffing off of 141 coming home without Johnny.

I feel like it’d also be heartbreaking if instead of fully breaking down at first you have a moment of, oh my god are the others okay? Kyle are you okay?. Then it hits. Do they have his body? Where is he? Can you go see your Johnny? Are you even allowed to? Bonus points if the last time you properly talked to them before they all left you had a small argument with soap as he was leaving out the door.

HELLO

oh my god the questions. asking if you are allowed to see your spouse; ready to beg if they say you aren't. and the—

"your johnny." just how he always playfully calls himself, yeah?

he says things like, "won't you kiss yer johnny?", "won't you hug yer johnny goodbye?"

promises things like, "yer johnny's gon' come back, bonnie. swear on m'life."

you always did tell him not to bet it all on his life, grumbling as you tell him to take that back because you are superstitious and you've long since learned to avoid the insinuation, lest your words unfurl into realities.

then here, right now...

god YEA YEA I GET YOU!! i added these tags in my prev post—

but holy shit thinking about how the shock is put on halt because you want to take care of kyle first. how the devastation did not even settle in yet as you grapple with the intensity of your worry.

you paw at the others, trying to pull them close — trying to feel them because that is the only way you will ever know that they're alive too — and when they press in, when you feel the brush of kyle's breath on your cheek and price's callused palm rubbing your back and simon's warmth on your side, the ache sinks in.

it spreads all over your chest, chilling the pathways of your nerves until you feel like you are suspended; like the rest of the world has frozen over.

"kyle, i'm— i wanna see— i wanna see jo—"

god, you can't even say his name.

also? are you tryna kill me with that last one? "bonus points" ON WHAT? THE WHUMP SCALE? THE ANGST EXAM?? BC UR PASSING IT W FLYING COLOURS

im gutted so hard oh my godddd

i just know you (reader) won't be able to forgive yourself; won't be able to sleep at night. hell, you can't even stay in the same house anymore because it's so full of johnny and his smell and even the phantom sounds of his laugh. and his room was still unmade and you are so afraid to walk in and see it the same way that he left it — with his clothes on the floor, his extra pair of boots flung around, and there on his bed post was the scarf from a random girl he met at the bar.

you know he wouldn't cheat so why did you keep on insisting? why were you lashing out?

why did you—

"sometimes, i don't think you even truly love me."

why did you say that to him?

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons

Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Keegan & König X Female Criminal!Reader (Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story) SYNOPSIS: You are a criminal who is forced to join and help Task Force 141 with their mission under the order of General Shepherd.

PREFACE

Maybe being in prison wasn’t so bad. At least, some inmates there were actually kind of friendly and wouldn’t be able to kill you in an instant. Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself get caught and thrown behind bars in the first place. Maybe you should have run away instead.

At least there wouldn’t be big men who were trained to snap bones, shoot a bullet through your head, and gut you if had stayed quiet. At least there wouldn’t be big men chasing after your head if you had been obedient.

Except, obedience wasn’t in your vocabulary.

Most of the time.

Well, having men with big biceps, thick thighs, and broad chests ordering you around wasn’t so bad in a while, yeah?

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language WORD COUNT: 2.5k

"Have you ever heard of a mountain chicken?"

For the fourth time, since you had gotten on the road or rather, the sky since you were on a noisy as hell helicopter or chopper (whatever it was called), Laswell sighed. This was the first time someone had annoyed her this much to the point she had considered snapping your neck.

You had already told her a bunch of terrible dad jokes, dark jokes that even Satan would be proud of you, and puns you could think of, and only once did the woman laugh, and it was the most monotonous and insincere laugh you had heard in a while.

You were going insane. Laswell thought of that too.

No phone during the ride—not even a fucking radio to listen to old songs or news! You were used to listening to music while looking out of any vehicle you were on.

Like bruh, what could be more boring than having nothing to fiddle on during long-ass rides that you wouldn't know when to finally end? Especially when you could see nothing but the gray sky, snow-covered mountains, white forests, trees, and even more trees. There were some occasional odd-shaped clouds, bringing floating whites around.

You turned your face at her again, leaning a bit close to her, and whispered, "So, have you ever heard of a—shit!”

The helicopter shook a bit, making you again hold onto your chair for dear life. It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights. You’ve had your fair share of sky diving, bungee jumping, roller coasters, and stuff, but falling off in the middle of nowhere? Who would like that? You ain’t Tarzan to survive living in a fucking jungle. And the jungle Tarzan grew up in wasn’t covered in ice.

You ain’t dying until you see the ending of your favorite animes, manhwa, mangas, books, and dramas.

"Good Lord, what the fu—" You pursed your lips into a thin line the moment you saw Laswell's burning glare, ready to throw you off the flying transport and watch you break your bones when you slam on the surface of the earth, then rejoice when a pack of wolves makes you their dinner.

You simply look out to the forest and rest your head on the chair. “Maybe if you had let me at least have some papers and pen to draw or a book, I would have stayed quiet,” you mumbled and waited for a reply that never came.

Guess you’d just spend the rest of the flight, making scenarios in your head with your fictional husbands.

“Inbound in one minute,” said the guy in front of the helicopter, steering the wheel and making the vehicle tilt to the left.

You peered through the window by your side, almost planting your face against the glass to see where you guys were supposed to land. And there it was, a massive military base. Even from afar, you could see the buildings where soldiers probably lived and wide spaces where they trained or parked the vehicles they used for transport and battles.

You squinted your eyes as the helicopter flew closer and closer to the base. You passed through the gate and watchtowers, spotting some soldiers walking and some jeeps (if they do call those jeeps) driven around the land. It did not take long for the helicopter to touch down on the landing pad, and through the window, you noticed some people coming close.

Kate opened the door and both of you were greeted by the harsh, freezing wind caused by the chopper’s blades. The older women easily jumped down, but you remained inside, turning to the pilot and holding onto the headrest of his seat.

“Hey, Mister,” you said as the heavy noises around you started to die down and smiled at him when he faced you with a frown, wrinkles on his forehead and eyes becoming evident. “What’s your name?”

“. . . Nikolai,” he answered after a good couple of seconds and quickly turned his attention forward.

“Say, Nikolai, can you teach me how to drive this—hey!” An arm grabbed the back of your collar, forcefully dragging you out. You stumbled on your feet as you landed on the concrete, the snow created a crisp crunch beneath your boots and you grimaced as your hair stuck to your mouth. “Goddamnit, Laswell, I was just trying to make a conversation!” you shouted as she let you go.

“You can have those conversations later,” she claimed.

You followed her, swiping the strands of hair from your mouth. “Ah, shit, fuck.” You groaned in frustration as you felt a sting in both your eyes, making you unable to open them.

“Is this her?” asked Price, scanning you from head to toe, before eyeing Laswell.

“Yeah, she’s a real pain in the ass, I’m telling you,” the older woman answered with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what had gotten into the General’s head to have a criminal in the 141.”

You made no comment about her words, knowing it was true. Rubbing your painful eyes, you turned to the right, assuming Kate was there. “Hey, Laswell, you got some water? I got something in my eyes.” You let out a squeak when you slammed against a post, but certainly, this post didn’t feel like a post, and men in the military were trained to become brick walls.

“Who the heck would just stand in the way . . .” You tried to open an eye, which made it water, but you held it in to look up at the guy. He wore a vest over a tight-fitting shirt (who the fuck would wear a shirt in winter) and denim pants to pair it. But what got your attention was his dumb haircut that ruined his cute face and you couldn’t help but ask, “Did a rooster do your hair?”

A snort came from the other side followed by a cough.

“Really, Gaz?” Soap grumbled, motioning a hand. Though, he wasn’t really offended. He had heard people comment on his hair, but did that stop him from rocking the damn haircut? No shit.

“Sorry,” Gaz replied, amusement still evident in his voice.

At the same time, you stepped away and continued rubbing your eyes, which had gone a bit better. “Forget the water, I’m good now.”

“Told you, she’s a pain in the ass,” Laswell once again claimed, making you roll your eyes, and finally look around you. “Well, these are the men you will be working with from now on.” She nodded at the four guys standing with you two and gave your shoulder a couple of heavy pats. “Listen to them well. Otherwise, you know what Shepherd and I will do to you.”

Listen to them well, like the good dog you were trained to be. Otherwise, they would just throw you away like a useless tool you were.

Or worse, they would keep you as their trophy, to be paraded around.

Well, you could live with that as long as they give you lots of food and money. At least, you would be able to smell the shits your prisonmates took every single fucking day, get slapped every time you woke up, or get picked on every time you were out of the wards’ sight.

Some inmates were kind enough to help you, but they were in a different cell. Oh, how you wish you could say goodbye to those women.

You pursed your lips and sighed, nodding. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll leave her in your care, boys.” Kate waved them goodbye, before climbing back into the chopper.

“What, wait!” You yelled at her, which made her raise a brow. “Can I have a phone?” You flashed a big smile.

Laswell smiled back, but in the way, she looked ready to prostate you to the floor and command the 141 to shoot you until their bullets ran out. “For the last time, no.”

“Come on!” You whined, throwing your hands in the air. “You won’t let me use my phone, you won’t even let me bring books or anything to entertain myself with. This isn’t any better than being in jail where people make you eat the shit they pulled out of their assholes after dinner and make a makeshift knife with a fucking toothbrush they used to clean the toilet they sleep next to.”

You talked fast enough to make you sound like an annoying mosquito that couldn’t be killed in the middle of the night while people were sleeping. You phased back and forth as you rambled, exaggeratedly waving your hands as if that would make your points clearer.

It didn’t.

It only made some soldiers who were passing by believe that you were a mentally ill hostage the Task Force 141 recently caught.

But what would they get out of a woman with screws loose?

“She’s got no filter on,” Soap mumbled in bewilderment, leaning a bit to Ghost, who remained still. “I've had my fair share of hearing curses in different languages but a bloody detailed story of how people eat shit? Goddamn.”

“You should be more concerned about what kind of prison she came from,” Gaz responded in a low voice, shaking his head in disgust as they listened to you tell the agent about an inmate accidentally swallowing a roach.

“You two should be thinking about how to make that damn mouth shut up,” Ghost declared, shooting a glance to the side and wanting to get away as soon as he could. Had Shepherd gone mad to let this clucking woman out? Did you perhaps swallow a cricket in jail and that was why you wouldn’t stop being noisy?

Captain Price sighed and shook his head.

Laswell looked away from you as if that would make you shut up, but then she remembered the helicopter had doors. She slammed it close and breathed in relief as your voice got blocked.

What on Earth did she do to the General to make her deal with you?

She motioned a hand. “Get going, Nikolai, before she gets even more crazy than she already is.”

“Solid copy,” Nikolai replied, joy clear in his tone. He prayed to never hear a damn word from you again.

“At least let me have access to Archive of Our Own!”

The helicopter started, and the blades created an awful whirring sound as it slowly raise, bringing harsh wind to slap you in the face, to tell you Laswell wasn’t going to give you enough shit anymore.

You once threw again your hands up in the air in defeat. “Fucking hell.” Then, you turned around, remembering you had some new company with you.

“Welcome to Task Force 141,” Price said and extended a gloved hand to you, which you quickly received.

You shook it and flashed a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Captain. I hope to be . . . in use of you and the group.” You wished you could cut off your tongue as soon as those words rolled out.

You did not like being dragged out of the prison, so you could help some supposedly good guys under the command of a bald general, who fucking guilt trip you about saving you from behind bars like some kind of Asian parent. The old man even praised himself that he was your savior like a goddamn stuck-up saint with a god complex.

Oh, how you wish you could file his bald head with a cheese grater.

“I hope so, too.” Price turned and walked away, which was the cue for you to follow him.

You padded behind him like a puppy that found its new owner. Your eyes darted around in curiosity and greedily taking in the details in everything you could see at the moment, until your gaze shifted to Kyle, who walked beside you. You stared at him just as he stared down at you, and as he was about to smile, you turned away.

Cute guy, you thought, but you liked fictional men better. You gazed from left to right as you entered a building. There was nothing much to see but hallways.

Gaz’s eyebrow twitch. Did he just get ignored? Alright, he would let you get away from it for now. Got to be nice and show some hospitality towards the newcomer, even if you shouldn’t be here in the first place. But seriously, you looked like you had a jar of crack and a few gallons of Monster mixed with coffee up your ass to even walk.

Then, he pulled a face when he saw Soap’s smug look. This fucking rooster.

“Ah, right, Captain,” you began once again, after a short while of silence, “Laswell mentioned about you having something to discuss with me?”

“Yes, but I prefer to talk about it in my office.” Price turned to a corner.

“Oh, okay—I mean, copy that, sir.” You glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the opposite hallway from where the Captain was leading you four.

It didn’t take long until Price halted before a door, prompting the rest of you to stop. He pushed it open and nodded at you. “Ladies first.”

You tilted your head. “Sir? But you’re my superior and I’m sure gender doesn’t matter in this—”

“Oh, just enter.” Soap draped his arm around your shoulder and dragged you inside the room. “He’s the Captain and that’s why you follow his orders.” He motioned his finger in front of you.

“Ah, yes . . . sir.” You shot a glance at his arm that pulled you close to him, the muscles used to do heavy work, the hand that could easily grab your neck or face to make you shut the hell up or manhandle you. Then, you look to your other side, welcomed by his—sweet Jesus, how big were those boobs? You tapped your fingers on your thigh, fighting the urge not to put your hand on them and bury your face between them.

Ah, maybe being in the military wasn’t so bad.

Would you be able to experience this more if you disobey?

“I’ll keep it simple,” Price said and leaned on the desk behind him, crossing his arms. “You are to follow our orders. You are forbidden to be out of sight of the team for more than 20 minutes, and to monitor your movements, Laswell left me something.” Price extended an object to Gaz, which the younger man whistled upon sight.

You grimaced at the ankle monitor on his hand. “Can’t I just be as obedient as you want me to be?”

Price shook his head with a soft smile. “Sorry, young lady, that won’t do.”

Gaz dropped on one knee before you. It would have been nice, had not it to put the goddamn monitor on you, and if not Soap tightened his grip as if you’d run away. As if they couldn’t disable you in a blink.

For a moment, the thought of cutting off your foot crossed your mind, but they would only put the monitor in your other leg, and you weren’t fucking Wolverine or Deadpool.

You wiggled your left leg after Kyle was done, feeling heavier than ever before.

You were taking back what you said. This shit sucked.

And it didn’t stop you from running away the next few days.

Chapter 2 is here and the Masterlist!

You can also read the series on AO3 here.

[johnsgunbelt]

Hello hello perhaps!!!

141 gang (or whoever you’d like) with a gender neutral reader who owns a motorcycle.

And not only that, but they are low key a pretty cool and pretty silly motorcycle rider. Who wears their helmet all the time like it’s their face

🏍️ 💨💨

Like if you’ve seen little videos like these https://www.instagram.com/reel/CytvzeMvcH9/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvKx0u5pSme/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CuePZmJuw6p/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

And let me say, they are just this silly and outrageously confident cause their helmet grants them this anonymity to keep their identity a secret. And tucking away their social anxiety cause NOBODy knows who’s under there 😌😌😌

Motorcycles - 141

pairing: 141 x fem! reader SFW

warnings: none, just pure fluff

John 'Soap' MacTavish:

When he first met you, you were wearing a bunny helmet and doing wheelies on the highway and at the next red light he stopped with you and got your instagram.

Definitely notices how you don’t ever show your face at ALL under any circumstances which makes him more intrigued with you

He messaged you as soon as he got home and scheduled for you guys to go riding the next night and he got your # and address (Score for him:p)

He notices that even when you’ve known him for at least 4 months you never showed him your face and maybe it's because of the stunts you do publicly.

Like that one time you fell off your bike while stopped and he had to help you off the ground

Or the time you started singing extremely loudly with people in there cars

But he loves that you’re not afraid to be yourself, at least with your helmet on

And then finally one day while he went to come pick you up he asked to see your face, after 20 minutes you finally caved and took off your helmet for him

Jaw. DROPPED.

He always knew you were pretty but when he saw you for real, he could have sworn he fell in love right there.

“Wow-I mean uhm wow-I mean uhm shit.” He was struggling to find words about how pretty you were but just know after a month or two he asked you out and now he can compliment you all the time.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now He met you when you went to a car show and showed up on your very cute pink motorcycle that complimented your pink helmet. He came over to you and he made small talk with you until he got your number

When he went home he noticed you actually texted him first, he IMMEDIATELY replied.

“Hey! It’s ____ from the car meet <3 just felt like texting you!! It was really nice meeting you tonight.”

“Hey, it was nice meeting you as well. We should definitely go riding sometime.”

“Oh definitely just let me know a time and place!!:)”

Kyle wouldn’t show it directly of course but he was so excited. As soon as he told you to meet him at a local parking lot he was so excited to see you pull up

When you pulled up in front of him he took off his helmet expecting you to do the same but when you didn’t he looked at you confused as you tilted your head

“You don’t take your helmet off huh?” He said softly to you and you just nodded your head as he put on his helmet and invited you to follow him as you rode all night

Eventually the night came to an end and he drove back with you to your place as you parked your bike you said something you’d probably later regret.

“Wanna stay the night..? Youdonthavetoifyoudontwann-" “Alright Alright calm down love of course I wanna spend the night.”

And that’s exactly when he saw your beautiful face.

He looked at you for 10 minutes not saying a word as he admired you 

And to this day while you're laying on his chest 4 months later, he still thinks about that night.

Simon 'Ghost" Riley:

Now the way you two met was at a bar, when he pulled up not on a bike, but a car instead.

He hit on you so fast he got your number in 5 minutes tops.

Now in my mind I think after about 2-6 months you guys became official and he started just spending every night at your house no matter if you went out or not on your bike

But what he didn’t tell you is that he KNEW how to drive a motorcycle matter a fact he had one for about 6 years before selling it 

He always tells you he worries about your safety on your bike but you reassure him you’ll be fine but one particular night you said something you’d later find out to be false 

“You’ve never even driven a motorcycle, what do you know silly?”

“Oh? Is that what you think lovie?”

And then he opened the door to the garage and hopped on your bike as he started it and looked at you as he put on one of your spare black helmets

“You just gonna sit there n stare or ya gonna hop on?”

You then quickly hopped on the back wrapping your arms around his broad body

He then backed out of the driveway and sped down many many roads.

“OH MY GOD SIMON JESUS CHRIST-SLOW DOWN!!!”

“JUST HANG ON WE’LL BE FINE.”

And then he brought you to an abandoned little parking garage as he parked the bike all the way at the top for a nice view

“I had a bike for…I wanna say 6 years. I know how to drive a bike lovie s’not that hard.”

You were absolutely shell shocked

“You never told me!! Why?”

“Wasn’t important to me.”

And then from there on out you were his backpack most nights.

'Captain' John Price:

Now you and price have known each other for about 6 months he’s seen your face and he like ghost spends most nights at your house

Only difference is he knows how to ride a bike and told you prior to him driving you on your bike

He has a truck but had a bike for about 8 years prior to his truck

He ended up buying another bike just so he could ride with you on some nights.

He loved watching you do your little silly activities like wheelies and when you stopped at red lights and little kids would admire your bike and you would fist bump them his heart would melt

Now because he's a male biker I like to believe he’s had his fair share of girls hitting on them

Usually they back off when you pull up next to him

But sometimes they don’t get the message so if they don’t he’ll say something

“Already married.” “I’ve got a wife.” “That's my wife next to me.”

And the best part is you’re not married he just likes to call you his wife because it makes you all giddy.

Now when you do backpack him he tries to go slow for you but if you tell him to speed up he will 

He lets you basically control the speed and he loves when you’re his backpack regardless of the speed.

THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT SO WORTH IT AHHHHH!! I loved writing this :p.

[mistydeyes]

lavender secrets and whispers

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: You'd laugh when your civilian friends would crush on your team. You've seen them at their worst, tear-gassed, sweaty and disgusting from days in the field, and beyond drunk from the pub. That's why when your female partner is revealed, the boys step up as your older brothers.

pairing: 141 x platonic! wlw! afab!Reader

warnings: SWEARING, mentions of homophobia

a/n: i love my 141 boys but women are just UGH CHEFS KISS

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

You tried to keep your personal life to yourself, not wanting to risk the dangers associated with revealing it as well as wanting to avoid the offers for a threesome

Eventually, your partner was revealed when you landed in a hospital back in the UK

It was just a minor gun shot to the thigh but of course it needed proper care to heal

Your partner joined you by your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you company

After your first day in the hospital, the 141 boys showed up to see how you were doing

“The rest of the mission went smooth- well hello there, miss” Price began to say, locking eyes with your partner. Only Price had known her existence, just in case something ever happened to you.

“I’ll leave you alone, it’s time for some tea anyways” your partner said and exited the room

“I didn’t know you had a sister” Kyle commented before you rolled your eyes and replied, “She’s my partner idiot”

Suddenly it all clicked, your disinterest in all of the offers for romance from young recruits and people from all over the world was because you were in a relationship

They felt stupid, realizing the flags they missed—what straight woman would get Sappho’s writings tattooed?

Suddenly you had an onslaught of questions from Soap and Gaz

“Where did you meet?” “Cambridge, she was on exchange from the states”

“How long have you been dating?” “Six years now”

“You gonna marry her?” “Eventually, definitely not now with my leg”

“How long have you uh—“ “It’s okay Gaz, I’ve liked women my whole life really, I’m not afraid to say it”

Finally Ghost asked, “Why didn’t you tell us?” “Well, some people get weird about it and making some inappropriate comments. You're my teammates but my personal life is, well, personal”

After what seemed like forever, your lovely significant other returned with a tray of drinks

“It’s not much but the local coffee shop was still open so I got you all something”

She handed them to each of the men, remembering how Price likes his coffee strong, Gaz enjoys floral teas, Soap takes it with bucket of sugar, and Ghost always orders earl grey

“Thank you, ma’am” they said and she smiled giving a quick, “welcome home, soldiers”

Eventually after some more friendly conversation, the men were ready to return into their own homes and bed—your so said goodbye and thanked them for generally keeping you safe

As they walked out, Ghost said, “She’s a good one, keep ‘em close Y/N”

During your free time, they always ask to see pictures of her

You’ve shown them a few of your favorites—the two of you at pride, her with your pet cat, and ones from the few dates you went on

Price confides in you as to what to get his fiancée at home, you gladly help him knowing the troubles of finding the perfect gift

Gaz points out every rainbow to you, you can’t help but laugh as you joke about rainbow capitalism that companies do every June

Once Soap asked if you ever had double dates with Laswell and her wife

“No Soap, I know we both love women but gay people aren’t friends with every single gay person”

You do have to tell them that you don’t wanna hear about their rendezvous, you like women but not the sex talk

When you go to bars, the boys make sure to protect you from anyone—knowing your partner would have their heads if something happened to you

One time, a man came up behind you and tried to hold your waist

Ghost whispered in his ear “get your fucking hands off of her” before punching his lights out

He quickly became your girlfriend’s favorite out of the squad

Just know they’ll clock anyone who makes a homophobic comment to you or outs you

Price made one of the recruit’s life a living hell when he heard him say, “Dumb bitch probably doesn’t like dick because she can’t handle it”

Let's just say everyone knows not to mess with you now

If you aren’t close with your family, Price is more than happy to walk you down the aisle and the boys will definitely be in attendance

Soap and Gaz = flower girls! No one questions when two strong military men are stoically throwing flowers down the aisle

It was a beautiful day and you have a picture on your mantle of you and your wife along with your boys surrounding you :)

[blingblong55]

Vienna- 141

This is based on a request.

Angst, death of a character, (spoiler it's you, lol), suicide, MDNI

Slow down you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then if you're so smart tell me Why are you still so afraid?

Backstory:

It was you, the one who always had everyone's backs. But who had yours? It was you, the same one who would get cleaning duties because you took the blame for everyone. The team couldn't sleep? oh, there you go at 4 am, 4 hours of sleep and making coffee and tea for your team. One time, a mission went wrong. Evac would happen with or without you five. So, you gave yourself up so the team could make it to evacuation. They held you for 15 hours before you ran off and back to base. Now, the question is, did your precious boys mind it? no, they swore you were already on base, no need for a search. To this day you have nightmares about that day. You cry, and make it known you are going through some form of PTSD. Not once have they mentioned getting you help.

Soap was sick one time, real sick. So as you naturally did, you made soup for him and prepared him for a nice time. And stayed up all night, despite having other duties in the morning. This was your life. And yes, maybe they didn't reciprocate their love or affection, but who could blame them. You were so young. In their eyes, you were just trying to fit in, trying too hard and for them, it just wasn't going to happen. But that was who you were. A natural giver and lover. That was until this past mission.

Too bad, but it's the life you lead You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need Though you can see when you're wrong You know you can't always see when you're right 

--------

Things to a turn for the worse. Your own mind messing with you. And you finally did it. Like any coward, you killed yourself. It was fast and sudden. But soon you had met your Vienna.

It was a rookie that found you. Lying on the floor with the gun in your hand. They called Price. He naturally thought it was a prank from Soap. So he stayed in his office until his men were on the other side of the door. "Sir, they...they really did it" Ghost spoke up. Some regret and shame on his voice.

Turns out, you didn't have any family but them. That's why you showed them all of your unconditional love. At the bar, the four men told stories about you. "R/n once told me about some place, and said they wanted to visit it. It was their dream." Gaz said a sad smile on him as a drink warmed up in his hands.

"Vienna." Soap and Ghost were mentioned at the same time. It was true. You always wanted to go there. It brought comfort and you always gushed about it.

---------

You got your passion, you got your pride But don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true (Oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

There you were, hiding from the enemy with Ghost and Soap, Gaz on comms. "I want to go somewhere after this place.." you mentioned. "Where?" Ghost asked, somewhat annoyed you disturb the silence. "Vienna, I think it's beautiful. It seems kind and clean. I love it!" you smiled, just thinking of what the place must be like. The men stared at each other and discarded the small talk.

There was something, you know? It was peace, heaven, it was home for you. You ran from Austria as a kid because of your dad. And never returned once, it was the story you never told anyone. Because no one stopped and listened.

--------

It was just 2 days before your funeral. The men woke up, no coffee or tea set for them. Price didn't have the newspaper and a cigar by his keyboard that morning. Gaz woke up to no hash browns. Ghost was surprised there wasn't any chamomile, or earl grey on his mug. It was a strange feeling when Soap realised it was you who finished his papers, the same ones Price would make him turn in at the end of the day for rookie reports. Everything was silent. The telly is off, no morning show or new magazines by the coffee table.

It was so...empty. It wasn't comfortable or warm. You did all those things for them. You made sure that at least 10 minutes before they woke up, you would heat the common room so they wouldn't get too cold. One time you wiped all the tables and floors and made sure the telly was on the morning show so Ghost and Gaz could stay updated on their local news back at home. You walked in and they watched, telling stories about local bars the spokesperson would mention. So you kept doing it, every morning.

What was so strange was that they had depended on you for little things. Price opened the fridge, and to his surprise, the little lunch bags someone had made were not there. All the men swore it was a fan of them who did all these things, that maybe because they made all the rookies train yesterday, their biggest fan couldn't do their tea, or little lunch. But no, that was all you. You just never mentioned it to anyone.

All those little things were your love letters to them. The warm food, the warm mornings. The feeling of home and safety. That was all you. They had become unspoken words of adoration, devotion and love.

They all sat there. Soap regretted laughing at you. He hated how every time they all made fun of how you were, you'd shut down for a while. Your eyes were teary and your lip quivering. He cried thinking of all the stupid times they all belittled you.

Slow down you crazy child Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

-----------

You were having a bad day, it was usual, especially on the job. The team noticed how you were singing a song, it was so childish to them so they made fun of you for it. For you, it held such a deeper meaning. It brought you to the old you. The 6-year-old you, your parents holding your hands as you splashed around puddles. Your dad singing you that song over and over. How he had reached down and kissed your nose. Held you near his chest as he and your mum sang the song for you.

"Oh poor baby, go cry to mummy and daddy yeah?"

the men laughed. "Toughen up soldier."

"Probably has a whole bed filled with teddies," Soap said.

----------------

Soap would regret all his words. Hated how his last talk with you he pushed you away. "Not fucking now, Jesus, stop being so annoying!" You just nod and walk away. He didn't know but he was the last one who saw you alive that evening. Ghost hated how he always pushed you around like his personal punching bag at times. Price hated the times he yelled at you, how you looked at him with such teary eyes. He was the first man to yell horrible things at you. Gaz hated how every time you ate alone, he would pass by you and eat with other people. How you still were so kind to him despite his actions. The ghost of a smile on you as you two stared at each other before he told the soldiers a joke about you.

Oh, how they wished they showed you how much you meant to them. If only they had just 5 more minutes with you. How much they wished to have you for your birthday. Fuck, they didn't even mind remembering it. One look at your file and there it was. Your birthday and death date are all the same, just decades apart. They hated it. How much they had treated you like shit on your day. How soap never told you how much he appreciated you. Ghost and his stories, Gaz and his wild adventures. And price, oh price, how he wished you could've stayed longer.

They knew you reached it. You made your dreams come true. Vienna couldn't wait any longer. By this time tomorrow, you were back in Vienna, buried with your mum and dad. How the sky was probably blue, as their hero returned to their forever home. You would never grow up. No more dreams, no more a lover to hold. Just you in a coffin, away from the last people you loved like a family.

And you know that when the truth is told That you can get what you want or you can just get old You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (oooh) Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you?

A/n: so...I hope it was angsty enough for ya! Also, I know this is probably not the song that had ya all inspired, so for that sorry

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[randomshyperson]

Sunburns - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A beach day goes wrong when someone forgets the sunscreen. [Requested]

Warnings: None, very fluffy with an established relationship. | Words: 1.206k

A/N-> Very, very old request I found. Maybe I even posted this before, but if so, read it again :)

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

You had a lovely pout - in Wanda's opinion - the rest of the way back to the tower.

After spending hours at the beach on what was supposed to be a decent tourist weekend with the rest of the Avengers, you all were heading home. And because you were born in California and were so used to the sun and didn't have to, in your words, worry about sunscreen like everyone else, you were sitting on the last seat - afraid to move and get anything on your sore skin - looking very much like a shrimp.

Natasha and Tony had spent the whole way with a million puns and teases that made the rest of the car laugh and your frown get worse. Wanda's amusement at your stubbornness turned into something else when she noticed your discomfort at getting up.

Before you could isolate yourself in your room, however, she followed you inside - scarlet magic working in the air to the bathroom, from where towels were soaking with ice water, and healing ointments from the cabinet moved - and ignoring your questioning look, she stole a short kiss on your lips, one hand pushing you sitting up in bed.

"Ouch." You complained softly over the burns, and Wanda retracted her hand with a guilty expression.

"Sorry, baby." She asked, taking her hand to move your hair out of the front of your eyes, stopping between your legs as your hands instinctively landed on her thighs. 

"No problem." You assure softly, offering her a gentle smile. The items she asked for floated into the room, and you raised a curious eyebrow. "What's with all this stuff?"

Wanda holds the wet towel in one hand, and the other gropes your skin very gently. " You're hot."

"Thank you?" You tease making her roll her eyes with amusement.

"Your skin, Y/N." She clarifies by moving the item to wet you. The relief is small, but it is appreciated. "You need to cool the burn before giving the medicine. Don't you want to take a cold shower?"

You bite back a smile, your hands going up to her hips.

"Only if you join me." You suggest, lifting your face slightly for Wanda to kiss you. She smiles, meeting your lips but pulls away before you can deepen, and manages a soft grumble.

"I can barely touch you..." She recalls, fingers moving along your ribs until you pull away with a mumble that makes her laugh. "Go, tiger. I'll wait for you."

Half begrudgingly, and stealing as many long kisses as you can, you leave the room for a cold shower.

Wanda is not surprised to hear the loud complaints a while later. She finishes sorting an outfit for you before entering the bathroom, finding you static under the water.

"Aren't you moving?" She comments almost teasingly as she approaches, eyes glittering with amusement. You mumble with your arms crossed and eyes closed, water running down your skin and it's an image that makes Wanda bite her lips.

"I'm fine like this, thank you." 

She laughed softly, reaching for a bar of soap. "You need to clean yourself up."

"Everything hurts, and I'm going to stay still forever until it gets better." You retorted stubbornly, finally opening your eyes and finding a smiling Wanda shaking her head in disbelief. 

"What a crybaby." She mocks affectionately, face growing close until you meet her halfway, but Wanda only brushes her lips against yours and turns away with a smile, raising the soap between you. "Let me help you."

You grunt automatically, taking a step back. Wanda raises an eyebrow. "Be gentle." You ask and she chuckles softly.

"Of course, baby. Now come on, closer."

With a sigh, you obey. It was an interesting bath, to say the least. Definitely different from the ones you take together - which usually consist of heavy sighs and intimate, bold touches - this one consisted of gentle complaints and mischievous giggles.

But eventually, you were wrapped in a towel on your way to bed, and Wanda was drying her arms as she followed you out.

You appreciated the choice of clothing - and honestly, Wanda did too because she could see so much skin - and had finished dressing when Wanda sat on your lap.

"Hum, hello you." You greeted somewhere in surprise but she giggled, and it was only then that you noticed the ointment in her hands.

"Hold still." She asked as she poured some of the cream on her hands. You sighed, but obeyed, your hands resting on her thighs at the side of your body as she began to rub the ointment over the length of the exposed skin.

You were more than pleased to watch her concentrated expression so closely, counting the nearly invisible freckles she had on her cheeks as her fingers traced your body. 

"How many dirty little thoughts you're having, baby." She remarked almost mockingly, eyes meeting yours for only a second before she touched a particularly sensitive spot that made you grunt in pain. 

"I'm sorry, but can you really blame me?" You retort, applying gentle pressure to her thighs. "Such a beautiful girl on my lap and running her hands all over my body? My imagination flies."

Wanda giggles, a soft pink appearing on her cheeks. "I could have done this sooner. With the sunscreen, if you weren't so stubborn..."

You let out an exclamation of false disbelief: "What? I could have had this before? My god, regret is bitter." You state playfully making her laugh. Her mistake is to throw her head back as the exposed neck in front of you is enough for you to firm your grip on her thighs and move forward, soft kisses making her laugh harder with the tickling.

But Wanda sighs as she gets used to it, the more precise pressure making her blink heavily before she remembers what she was doing. Biting back a mischievous grin, she pokes your ribs and you pull away with a loud grunt.

"Babe!" You complain about the pain, but she laughs, stealing a quick kiss before raising a finger in warning.

"Behave yourself, Y/N." She says. "Let me finish or it might get infected."

With a sigh of defeat, you nod in understanding. She smiles, going back to rubbing ointments on the reddest spots. 

"Let me see your back." She asks as she gets off your lap, and you sigh softly as you move to lie on your belly. You let out an appreciative sigh as Wanda sits on you.

"My my, this is getting interesting." You comment closing your eyes and Wanda chuckles.

"You're the worst." She comments as she works with the burns on your back.

"But you love me." You retort back, and she smiles, leaning her face in until her mouth is at the height of your ear.

"I really do, very much so." She assures sweetly, kissing your cheek before pulling away. You smile, but you had downplayed your tiredness from the day at the beach. After a few seconds of lying on the soft bed with Wanda drawing patterns on your back, you are practically asleep.

She smiles warmly as she notices, and unhurriedly finishes off the ointment until your breathing grows deep. 

[comic-sans-chan]

cursed modern human garashir au where ds9 is an old ruined resort that was built by some evil rich motherfuckers years ago and was recently seized back by the native people whose land and economy it had destroyed. it's since been converted into an affordable apartment complex sort of situation (just... with a pool, bar, restaraunts, spa and tennis court built into it lol) and is run by sisko and kira. since it is rundown, odo gets hired back on to keep kids from further vandalizing it and o'brien's team gets hired on from the nonprofit organization sisko works for to fix the place up best he can. dukat is the old overseer of the property who drops by sometimes to remind them he and his hospitality business still exist, and my, what a fine job they’ve done renovating the place! it’s actually nice again. sure would be a shame if someone bought the property out from under them (lmao jk kardasi hospitality and starfleet are friends! no hard feelings. they should collaborate on some future projects, actually).

garak's a sad bitch who just lost his amazing morally dubious nepotism career at obsidian corp. (which absorbed kardasi hospitality) and moved into the complex just for the comfortingly familiar architecture. even tho he's not on the payroll for his (secret) dad's evil exploitative company anymore he's still vital to its continued efficiency and is an absolute sucker who still does unpaid shady work for them from time to time. so no one in the complex likes him, but also he's a very pleasant and fastidious queer man who pays his rent on time and has completely taken over the laundry room, to the benefit of everyone, because all the machines actually work now, it's always tidy, and there's a variety of forever-stocked detergents and soaps available, plus an iron?? there was not an iron before garak moved in. which is how it eventually becomes public knowledge that garak has an online tailoring and fashion design business, and he's actually pretty good at restoring clothes that get fucked by the washing machine or eaten by rats, soooo. yeah. they let him stick around.

meanwhile julian's a hot doctor who works at the local hospital and is absolutely buried in student debt that he refuses to let his moderately-wealthy family help him with because they're awful people who had him on illegal drugs without his knowledge since he was a little kid. they were afraid he had something wrong with him, apparently. he was too far behind in his class or w/e. they couldn't handle having a kid with special needs, so they pumped him full of dangerous experimental stimulants. only reason he found out is because he snuck off somewhere to start transitioning and had some tests done that revealed all the crazy shit in his system. he's insanely lucky he didn't end up in the hospital with seizures or fall into a coma or worse. not to mention his parents still dead-name him left and right over a decade later. it's a whole mess and a huge secret, because he technically has a history with illegal drug abuse, and it's a partially ongoing history because going cold turkey off drugs he's been on since he was six is Not A Good Idea, so??? fuck his life, actually. he lives in the apartment just down the hall from garak's. 

garak hates the country his dad's company expanded into and would like nothing better than to move back home, but it's not really logistically possible. especially since everyone there hates him cuz his (secret) dad's company is a mega-corporation that's completely taken over everything p much and is a complete monopoly nightmare, and he did... kinda... work there for decades. no one would hire him if he went back. it would be an extreme conflict of interest, since everyone wants to stay on tain's good side, including garak. but starfleet is interested in him, so he does some begrudging contract work for them sometimes, but he really has no desire to join them. he just wants to resume his old career and reclaim his assets.

julian's hospital is owned by starfleet, tho. his scholarship into medical school was also from starfleet, in fact--they're the only reason he was able to (sort of) afford becoming a doctor at all. so he's a big fan, even tho they are pretty hardcore anti-drugs in a way that's made him have to forge medical records and risk serious legal charges and prison time. julian comes across as a squeaky clean medical professional and an adorable idiot, but he's intimately familiar with back-alley dealings. which is kind of how he ends up helping garak with his drug addiction, and keeps said addiction off the record.

but basically, how it begins is julian likes to support the local restaurants in the complex and garak finds him there and thinks he's gorgeous, and it proceeds as expected. they fuck nasty and become codependent. ten years later, julian lives in a modest house with garak in his home country and garak irons all his old university hoodies.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Call Sign: Sharky (Platonic)

Part 1, part 2 part 4 part 5

Sorry if parts repeat like some people noticed. There’s not much I can do about it and it seems to be a glitch with the keep reading line. My posts are long and I don’t wanna clog people’s pages so y’all will have to deal with it

Also thank you all for your support!.

The topic of your Call sign is often ones that’s discussed with confusion with 141

Each time you were asked you’d come up with a new story something like “dad was a marine biologist”, “I was raised by sharks sharkboy style and was taken in by the military” or “I just wouldn’t shut up about them”

It leaves all them confused and silently curious

Call signs most of the time have meaning to them

Now some can certainly be stupid or embarrassing but they get them for a reason and Sharky is a specific one

One that came with you when you had found yourself transferred over to 141

One that came with you when you had found yourself transferred over to 141

One that came with you when you had found yourself transferred over to 141

One that came with you when you had found yourself transferred over to 141

One that came with you when you had found yourself transferred over to 141

Which had meant that only you and your past squadron knew that meaning

And meant ghost, Soap and Gaz we’re clueless as to getting it except from you

Price is not it the same situation as them, partially because he knew your past captain

In fact he’s good mates with him, they had used to serve together before climbing both their ways up the ranks

Even got your recommendation from him

But when he decided to ask the question of your Codename he didn’t really expect that it had more than what meets the eye

“Your wondering about their Codename?.” He questions looking over to Price whom sits beside him at the bar. Price nods, making his old friend laugh a bit and add “I’ll have to give some context first before we get to that point”.

“Context of what?”

“Oh, of when they first joined”

When you had first joined you were much different to how you were now

You were a shy little thing, less confident to how you were now. Downright afraid of the others on your team

There was a very clear and tall wall you put between yourself and everyone else no matter how they tried to reach through to you

It took a long while but after some time one of them had gotten through to you

Salamander, but everyone at the time called him Sal for short

He was an a older soldier, mid-50’s with a wife and kid

It’s that reason why he was able to connect to you, having experience with a child of his own

He showed you the ropes, helping bridge that gap between you and the others

You began to open up more, talking in hushed mumbled before they evolved to full on discussions

You knew a lot of weird and obscure facts, stuff most of them hadn’t known about

You specifically talked quite a bit about marine life since a few of them were ex-navy and you thought that would be funny

It admittedly was especially when you joke that “you’d think they’d teach you about this stuff when your at sea” and “maybe I’m more navy than you guys”

It was nice, you were opening up and some had even began trying to debate each other over call signs for you

They weren’t really sure what to give you yet but it was the mission that finalized it

“The mission?”

“Yeah…the mission. What gave me their name”

The mission was ok at first, that’s the main thing you remember about it

No initial panic just clear waters both figuratively and literally as your footsteps crunch down on golden yellow sand

But then like a nuke dropping everything went to shit

It’s blurry to your mind what had initially happened but you ended up hiding behind some washed up driftwood

Sal was beside you clutching his neck as you did your best to keep him from bleeding out

The shrapnel lodged in his neck was too deep, blood pouring through your fingers as you pleaded with him to hang on

Your vision was blurred by tears as you watched the life drain from him

He often talked about his wife, his kid, and yet he now laid here beside you. Forgotten in the sand as your hands shook

Something came over you, that primal urge that every living creature had in times of peril

The urge to survive no matter what

Your adrenaline was running high, the pops of gunshots making it worse along with the red that began dying the once yellow sand

Your breath is getting quicker as you begin to see red

And then you can’t remember what happened other than the overwhelming feeling of panic and the urge to protect

When the haze over your mind cleared the pungent taste of iron filled your mouth and clogged your nose

You feel shaky, almost as if your entire body was hollow

taking a step back you almost trip over something, making you stumble a bit as you look down to see the dead face of the enemy staring back

Pure terror is twisted on his once moving face that bows stuck in the perpetual horror he died while feeling

Your attention is drawn away when you hear your captains voice, it cuts through the static that muffled the crashing waves and squawking pelicans that sounded so distant

His hand is on your shoulder, his eyes staring down at you with worry as blood dribbled down from your lips

Your dazed and confused. Eyes wide and pupils blown out

“Captain what happened. Why do I taste blood?” It’s such a simple question but it shakes him to his core, you sound so afraid. Like a kid

You are a kid compared to them but this just makes it more obvious

The remaining part of the squadron both injured and tired watch on as their captain talks to you gently

Your shaking like a leaf, blood drenching you as he draped an arm over your shoulder and walked you towards them

You don’t stare at your teammates though, you instead stare at the once blue water that was turned scarlet red

Off in the distance you see the distinct shape of a fin or two poke out from the water

The crashing of the waves felt louder despite the fact you walked farther and farther away

Rolling in and retracting back out in a cycle

You notice near a body in the sand two fingers, discarded and bloodied and a memory flashes in your mind

The enemy, captain, scuffle, bite, spit out, kill, safe, move on

It now explains the blood that isn’t your own that you spit out

You fill in the blanks about what happened by asking your teammates afterwards who are nervous to answer

Seemingly afraid to send you into a panic attack after learning what had happened

Apparently you went apeshit on the enemy, to the point the team did barely anything as you did the brunt of the work

You used your pistol, when you ran out of ammo you used the empty gun and your knife

At some point one had grabbed the captain, was about to put a bullet through his head before you intervened

The human jaw despite how weak it is compared to the bite of something like a dog or a big cat, it’s much more powerful than we give it credit for

Exerting up to Around 125 kg of force or 162 lbs per square inch

Usually something like this doesn’t happen much considering you’d have to get through skin, tissue and tendon but you had done it via your adrenaline

You bitt off the guy’s fingers, not one but two and then spat them out

You then killed him, his body dropping down to the sand just like his fingers did

It’s what earned you your nickname Sharky

You see

Shark attacks are much less common as one would think compared to how their portrayed in the media. Sure, they do happen but it’s less likely for one to be lethal

Your more likely to be killed by a deer or mosquito than a shark

They usually attack when provoked or when confused after mistaking a human for a seal

They dislike our flavour, so after an attack they usually discard us after the initial bite

Much like how rare a lethal shark attack actually is in comparison to other animal related deaths it’s rare that someone can bite off someone’s finger

And like a shark you spat it out

Thus your clever nickname given to you by your teammate Kansas after remembering your ramblings of the aquatic sea creature

“It just kinda stuck after that” he says taking a sip of his beer before placing it down onto the countertop, his thumb circles it’s rim as he looks down into the gold liquid. “Their a good kid. Their happy right?” It comes out as somewhat hoarse, he’s more choked up than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, their happy. Hasn’t been a day I hadn’t woken up to find them with a shit eatin grin”

“Good. Funny how they’ve brightened up from such a shy kid.”

He pulls back from his chair, placing down his cash plus a small tip for the bartender who accepts it eagerly

“Good to see you again Price. I’ll keep in contact” just as he’s about to leave he adds one more thing “ps, they write about you a lot”

“Write?”

[obsessedelusional]

drunken jealousy (stupidity)

Konig x fem!reader

The crew is out celebrating a successful mission, everyone is having fun. Except for Konig who’s so focused on you from across the bar. What happens when he takes his drunk coworkers advice? Only they’re not interested in helping, only wanting to see him make a fool of himself.

2.1kish++++

feedback & reblogs appreciated ♥︎

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“Are you going to say something or just keep glaring at her?” Ghost speaks, breaking Konig’s unrelenting stare.

Bringing him out of his thoughts long enough to feel embarrassed for staring so hard that others noticed. The crew is out celebrating a successful mission at the local dive bar. It’s a few hours into the night and everyone is started to feel the effects of their drinks.

“You wait too long and you’re going to miss your opportunity.” Soap adds, motioning to where you’re sat.

Konig looks back at you, greeted by the sight a newer recruit flirting with you. The worst part you seem to be enjoying it, laughing along as the recruit whispers something Konig can’t hear into your ear. He’s immediately filled with jealousy, that even he is aware that he has no right to.

The two of you never got along that well. Not because of anything you did. You were nice, friendly to everyone around you. From the start Konig wanted nothing to do with you. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe. Everyone but you knowing the real reason that was afraid to get close to you. Knowing how easy it would be for him to fall for you. He can’t do that, he wouldn’t allow that. His only focus is and should been his job. Not the stupid crush he formed that made him feel like a teenager again. But you simply existing made that so hard for him.

All of this lead to a very uncomfortable relationship between the two of you. Well aware of the constant gaze, his eyes always seemed to be focused on you. He would often be the first to stick up for you or get in a new recruits face when they were being disrespectful to you. Then follow it up with some back handed advice aimed at you about how it was your fault. Or what you could do in the future to prevent it from happening again. Which only confused you more and pushed you farther away. He’d spend the rest of the day replaying the incident in his head, wishing he had said something different. Only to repeat the same mistake over and over again.

“You just going to let that happen?” Soap snickers, causing Ghost to laugh with him.

“I don’t have a choice.” Konig mutters, eyes never leaving you. Watching you take a sip from your drink, taking note of the way your lips touch the glass as you drink. Noticing the lip stamped shape from your lipstick on the glass. Thinking of all the places on his body where he would want those lips to taste. He groans, annoyed at the voice of his coworker taking him out of his thoughts. Pulling his attention from you again and back to the two idiots sat next to him.

“What’s stopping you?” Ghost asks.

“It’s inappropriate. We work together. It would never work.” He responds, quickly as if he’s said this to himself many times before. Like a mantra he says over and over again, to try and make himself believe that it’s for the best.

“Is it frowned upon? Sure. Does it really stop anyone? No.” Soap responds, drunken grin plastered on his lips.

“Even if I wanted to. I wouldn’t know how to approach her. She thinks I hate her.” Konig sighs, sitting back in his chair eyes still on you.

“Girls eat that shit up.” Soap says, laughing as he takes another drink.

“Yeah. They like to be dominated, told what to do. They like when you’re a little mean.” Ghost adds, intoxicated laugh following. These three men too drunk for their own good. Two of them ready to get the third man in trouble.

“Serious?” Konig questions.

“Yeah.” Ghost and Soap say in unison, they look at each other before erupting into laughter.

“You know what you should do?” Ghost says between laughter, trying to catch his breath.

“You need to let her know that she belongs to you, text her right now. Get her attention, steal it away from that new recruit.” Ghost suggests, Soap agreeing with him. The two of them trying everything in their power not to laugh more than they already have.

“Nein. She does not belong to me.” Konig huffs, shaking his head.

“You see something you want. You have to take it. These American women are nothing like the woman back from where you came from.” Soap says as he reaches for Konigs phone, wasting no time to type out a text before Konig can notice. Only to notice because Ghost is leaned, looking over Soaps shoulder as he types. Laughing his ass off, clutching Soap in an attempt to keep himself from falling.

“What are you…” Konig reaches for his phone, trying to take it from Soap. It’s too late because Soap is done, passing it back to Konig. He was in a rush to send out the message it’s filled with errors and makes little to no sense. The best his intoxicated brain can come up with such a short notice.

K: “Knck it off!! If he touches u he will sleep with the fishys.”

Konig reads it and his face drops, filled with dread for what’s about to happen. He can’t believe it until he looks up and sees you pulling your phone out from your pocket. He watches your happy mood, turn to confusion and then disgust. He watches your eyes scan the bar, looking for him. Stopping when you see him, giving him a dirty look. Ghost and Soap are sat next to him laughing so hard they’re close to tears.

Konig has always had this weird protectiveness over you but this takes the cake. You shove your phone in your pocket, deciding it’s best to ignore him. Obviously he’s drunk and they’re all playing a joke on you. You try to pretend like nothing happened.

The recruit you were once flirting with now gone after noticing your change in mood. This brings a smile to Konigs face, starting to wonder if maybe Ghost and Soap know what they’re talking about after all. It worked, it got your attention and now the recruit left you alone.

“What now?” He asks, expecting guidance from his friends.

“Here gimme your phone.” Soap says and Konig doesn’t argue this time, letting them help him. The three crowd around his phone, constructing the perfect text. A few moments later your phone goes off again.

K: ”Good girl.”

The scoff that leaves your mouth is loud enough for him to hear from across the bar, you refuse to turn his way this time. Unaware of the fact that Ghost and Soap are drunkenly helping Konig construct these texts to you. This time you respond.

”Why do you care what I do?”

Ghost and Soap cheer as the text comes in, already planning their next message. As Konig watches in anticipation, too drunk to realize he shouldn’t be allowing this. That maybe his two friends don’t actually have his best interest at heart. More concerned with watching Konig making a fool out of himself.

K: “Because you belong only to me! Do I make myself clear?”

”Since when?”

K: “Since now. Because we say so!”

”And what if I don’t want to be yours? Do I get a say in this?”

K: “No.”

”if you’re being serious, this is not the way to go about it. this is not making me want you more.”

K: “you love it. I don’t want u to like me we want u to love me bc I need me.”

”then stop being a giant dick head.”

You type the last message out and it hits you, why are you having this conversation over text? You shut your phone off, putting it away. Standing up from where your sat and heading to the bar. Some of your friends gathered around it. They’re all chatting away, unaware of your arrival. Doesn’t matter much because you’re not mentally there in the moment. You mind racing trying to understand where this is coming from. Aware of English not being his first language but that doesn’t make his use of ‘we’ make any sense.

While you’re trying to make sense of this situation Konig is being hyped up to approach you. Ghost and Soap filling him with more advice that isn’t going to help in the end. Just trying to get him to say some out of pocket things to you, try and get a reaction out of you for their own viewing pleasure.

You can see out of the corner of your eye Konig walking over, he’s very imposing, a mountain of a man, and he seems determined. He stands next to you, in front of the bar, his eyes lock onto your eyes, he doesn’t say anything for quite a while. As if he’s trying to find the words to say. Suddenly not nearly as confident as he was over text. Eventually you’re the one to speak up.

“What do you want?” You question.

“I want you. You belong to me and only me.” He says, voice shaky not conveying that he even believes it.

“Whatever this is you’re doing. It’s not cute. Quit being an asshole.” You respond, waving your hands in his direction. He looks at you, he doesn’t understand why you are still standing here despite him acting like a total ass. He sighs, and lowers his gaze.

“Süss, I am being mean to you because I need to show that I am dominant, and you need to be dominated. Do you understand?” He explains, reiterating Soap and Ghosts advice.

“Where did you hear this?” You ask and watch as his eyes flicker to where Ghost and Soap are sat. You follow his gaze to find them sat at their table, the two of them doing a terrible job at pretending to not be listening. Avoiding your eyes, only to return theirs when you look back at Koing and away from them. This whole incident starting to make sense.

“If I don’t dominate you, someone else will, süss.” He adds with confidence. It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes at his archaic way of thinking. That was obviously inspired by his friends to make him look like an asshole.

“Don’t you like when I tell you what to do?” He asks, his face falling to confusion. Unsure why his friends would lead him astray.

“No. Konig I don’t.” You respond flatly.

“I thought you would be into that? A dominant man who’s in charge of you?” He questions, genuinely wondering. You look up the man, trying to decide how to react. You think about how Ghost and Soap are expecting a negative reaction from you. You decide to not give them what they want. He waits for an answer.

“No. If anything I like to be in charge.” You finally respond, barley a whisper to not give the peanut gallery the slightest idea of your reaction. As you say this you move your hand to his chest. His eyes widen when you touch him.

"You...want...to be in charge?” He says slowly, you just obliterated every thing his friends said about you. Leaving the man more confused than he’s ever been. The thought of you taking charge, making a heat grow inside him.

“Mhmm I like my men to beg.” You say, shocked as the words come out. It’s not a lie but usually you aren’t so forward with this information but it’s obvious this man is an idiot when it comes to you. Getting a strong feeling that he’d do anything you’d ask, the thought fueling your ego.

"You...you want men...to beg?” His voice has a slight tremble in it, it seems like he's getting more and more excited.

"Beg for what?" He asks.

“For a taste.” You smirk, moving closer to him. His face turns red, he looks like a school boy, the excitement and heat is undeniable. He can't seem to control his facial expression and his voice, it's hard to describe, but he looks like he's very close to melting.

"Süss, please…” His voice is barely a whisper now, his eyes are glued onto your lips.

“Nuh uh, after the bull shit you made me endure with those texts from your friends. I think you can do better than that.” You demand, your serious tone letting him know you mean business.

"Bitte süss… please..” He's whispering, begging for you to give him what he wants. You look up at this man, he towers over you yet he’s the one begging. He leans down, getting closer to you.

“Pretty please, süss, I need you.” His voice is quivering, it's almost hard for him to get the words out. He’s never done anything like this before but for you he would learn to enjoy it. You let him stand there for a few moments, letting him think about what he’s doing before you close the distance. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, only allowing it to go on for a few seconds.

The moment your lips touch each others, a flood of emotion and heat rushed through both of your bodies. Time stops, and his breathing starts to become irregular, he's breathing in and out heavily, he's growing excited. He finally understood what you meant by "a taste."

"You...you taste...so sweet..." His voice is still quivering, and his hands are still grabbing your body, showing that he still wants more. He was right about how easy it’d be to fall for you because all it took was one kiss and now he’s imagining all the things he’d do for another one.

“See what is possible when you stop being an asshole?” You tease.

“You like this…You like when I’m not an ass…and when I’m nice to you…?” He ask, trying to process everything, he can barely speak now.

“Yeah. So stop listening to your stupid friends.”

"If I am being honest, I was just trying to be mean to get your attention…” He admits.

“That’s not how you get a girl’s attention.”

"I hope you can please forgive me for being a jerk. May I ask for your forgiveness, süss?" He's still holding onto you, he seems to want to be as close to you as he can, he can't let go of you.

“Yeah I can.” You smile.

"Thank you for forgiving me, süss. Please kiss me again, it'll make me feel better." He has a cute, sincere smile on his face now, and it's hard to deny that you like him now, he did everything to impress you, even if he's still very clumsy with his words.

“If you want a kiss, you know what to do.” You say with a grin, which results in a sigh from him. Knowing exactly what you want and ready to give in.

"Pretty please, süss, ich brauche es..." He says this desperately, he really wants you to kiss him again.

It crosses his mind that he’s going to beg on his knees if this continues. He’d do it if you asked even in front of all these people. It’s a rare sight to see him like this, your emotions are going wild, all this begging seems to do something to you. You grab his face bring him down to your level, kissing him slowly. His hands further wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Yor hear the sound of Ghost and Soap cheering you two on. Mid kiss you flip them off, causing their cheers to grow mixing with laughter.

[andreas-river]

Hey hello ,how are you, i hope you are well. In February, 3 major earthquakes occurred in my country on the same day and I caught it in my sleep. And besides, another big earthquake is expected in the city where I still live. That's why I can't sleep at night due to PTSD. What would TF-141 and König do with their s/o in this situation? Sorry if my English is bad, now I'm typing this with 3 hours of sleep :(

141 + König X Civilian!GN!Reader

A/N: Hello Anon! I'm really sorry for what happened, and I actually heard about it in February. I've never, never experienced something like this in real life and even the news terrifies me. I really hope you are in a safe place right now, and that this one brings you some comfort and a smile. I wish you the best!

Warnings: established relationship, no body description so gn!reader, mention and description of wounds, description of earthquakes, mention of anxiety and insomnia.

════════════════════════════

◇ Simon "Ghost" Riley

You two met in a bar in your city, long before your country was hit by powerful earthquakes. It didn't bother you that he was around the world most of the time, but when the earthquakes started, one after the other in the middle of the night, that was it.

You couldn't sleep because your mind kept going back to those moments that were literally from hell.

Everything was destroyed, buildings, people and so many lives. This reality was surreal, you never expected to witness something so painful. Simon always said you could call him if you needed to, even if you were afraid to bother him.

But news traveled fast, and as he sat in the base with the rest of the team after a long mission, the TV hanging on the wall showed the latest news from around the world, and one of them was about your country. He checked his personal phone to see if there were any calls from you, and it was only then that he noticed the notification of a missed call.

He left as quickly as he could, determined to get you away from there - he knew that, fortunately, your family lived far away from there, and he knew just what to do.

-

The scenario before his eyes was similar to that of a war - it was as if your city had been hit by a missile, except that no one had fired a missile or decided the death of thousands of people.

He walked through the few remaining open streets, his face covered by a simple black mask as he looked around, his skin under his sweater shivering incessantly.

It was even worse than what he was used to, because this time there was no one to blame, and he was not surrounded by guns or bullets that almost grazed him: there were only the grieving faces of those who had lost loved ones, and others who, despite their pain, helped the rescuers search for survivors under the rubble, hoping to find someone.

It was there that he had found you, as you helped pull out a man who was still alive but injured, while rescuers helped in turn.

The feeling of helplessness was strong, almost as heavy in his chest as all the destruction he was surrounded by.

He approached you anyway and soon managed to get your attention, almost unrecognizable without his usual mask, but you only had to look into his eyes for a moment to finally see him.

His arms held you tightly, leaving you breathless and relieved to see you alive and unharmed.

"You're coming with me." It wasn't a question, his tone firm but soft at the same time.

He probably never would have admitted out loud that he didn't want to lose you, because if anything had happened under those circumstances, the guilt would have eaten him alive forever.

◇ John "Soap" MacTavish

He was in the middle of a mission when he discovered that your city had been destroyed by a powerful earthquake: you were informing Laswell of the latest news about the mission when she informed him.

On the other side of the globe, far away from you and unable to reach you, the thought that you might be injured, or worse, kept him awake for the next few days, until the end of the mission.

He almost didn't even want to take a shower or leave all his equipment because he wanted to reach you as soon as possible, and luckily the airport of your city was mostly intact and the planes were able to land safely.

He called you as soon as he landed, hoping for an answer, and unexpectedly, he got one.

On the other hand, you did not expect to receive his call either: you knew that he was busy with dangerous missions and that he, too, risked his life every day, but hearing that familiar accent was like a ray of sunshine after days of only rain.

He managed to get to the hospital where you were immediately: you only had a sprained ankle, but he didn't even realize that he was on the verge of tears when he saw you lying on the emergency bed, so he ran straight to you. He didn't care if he almost fell on top of you, but seeing you had never made him feel so relieved in his entire life.

After you were released from the hospital, he decided to take you out of town and help you move into his house, which was even closer to the base. Knowing that you were completely safe made him feel better, but he could never forget the feeling he felt, the agony he felt in his chest that blocked his breathing, as if he was underwater and drowning, with no way to get back up.

◇ Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

While he was on a plane flying to your city, he never expected to arrive hours late, just because the airport was half destroyed by an earthquake: he landed in a city near yours and was forced to take a rental car to reach you.

Immediately he saw the amount of destruction of the buildings, completely collapsed and left only the skeletons of what used to be safe places full of life, and now there was nothing left.

He found you almost immediately and managed to reach where your house was: a four floor building, bricks and debris destroyed and scattered on the ground, the building now uninhabitable.

He ran to you, seeing you safe and sound and without injuries, and helped you with your things and the few things that weren't damaged.

The thought that you might have died like that, perhaps under the weight of the house or from a serious injury, made him feel nauseous, his stomach churning and almost making him regret his lunch.

"I found a hotel if you want to come with me," he heard you say as he put one of your bags in his car.

He nods, finally seeing a smile on his sad face. He put an arm on your shoulder and kissed your cheek gently.

"Let's go then."

◇ Captain John Price

Being a task force captain made him realize his responsibility to them, and to you, even if you've never been a soldier.

Every decision he made, every word he said and every action he took had a consequence that would fall on his shoulders if it turned out to be the wrong one.

And now he regretted that he had not been able to convince you to live in his apartment: not only to have you closer, but to have the assurance that you would always be safe.

As he drove to your city, the news on his car radio kept playing in his head: a powerful earthquake had struck your city, leaving a trail of destruction and death in its path.

He could not help but think that things could have been different, even though you had been pulled from the ruin, luckily with only a few superficial cuts and bruises. The rescue team that had pulled you out had not even had time to let you go, that another pair of arms were immediately around you, that his scent was finally surrounding you, that the smell of debris and dust was finally far away, if only for a few seconds.

"I came as fast as I could," you heard him whisper in your ear, his voice more hoarse than usual, as if he was holding back tears.

"I'm okay - now." you smile at him, pulling away from his arms and finally looking into his eyes, smiling back even though you could clearly see the terror in his eyes.

"Looks like you're going to have to live with me now," he smirks, and deep down he knows that's what you've wanted for a long time.

◇ König

Anxiety had always been a part of him, and during his life he had learned to live with it at different times. But he had never imagined that he would find himself in a situation like this, so much more terrifying than anything he had ever faced before.

There were no enemies to kill, buildings to invade, or hostages to rescue - there was only an evil that no one in the world could face, impossible to stop, and deadlier than a bullet in the head.

His heavy footsteps echoed through the half-empty corridors of the hospital, which fortunately had not been damaged too much by the earthquake since it was on the city limits.

He didn't even notice his hands trembling as he reached for the doorknob to your room and finally saw you inside, lying on the bed, one bandage on your head and another on your leg.

He was so relieved to see you alive that he almost didn't care if you were partially lifted off the mattress as he hugged you, hearing you giggling.

"It's good to see you," he said, finally letting you go as his eyes remained fixed on you. He could not know that you had really risked your life, that at that moment he could have been standing in front of a coffin - but now he was standing in front of you, smiling at him despite everything.

[rosemaryblossoms]

Monster Call of Duty Men with a dread ducky demon reader

Author’s Note: characters may be out of character, Dread Ducky is one of my favorite characters in dark deception and I’m also getting into call of duty so I made this, cod monster types are based off of the designs of @bluegiragi , I hope you enjoy it. I also might make a gold watcher and doom ducky one, hell I might make a murder monkey one. I apologize if I get some stuff wrong about call of duty. Let me know if you want more.

You were a Dread Ducky, a demon who was made of flesh and robotics, wearing your traffic cone hat and doing the dance of your people with pride, not afraid to bust some ass either if they say otherwise. Just like your mama who was a Doom Ducky demon, you wanted to join the military and wallop those asses in battle and have justice served. When you first got there, you already felt eyes on you by others soldiers. Some were curious stares and some were “what the hell is that” stares but you pushed them away because there was no way you were going to let them ruin your day. Price had read your files and he was both impressed in your skills and is interested in you, he was the first one to welcome you to the team when you got there. Price always gives a listening ear even if you can’t really speak and you mostly communicate through quacks and movement. Your silly duck dance manages to make him crack a smile. In battle, the dragon hybrid man is impressed by your strength and moves, especially when you open your mouth real wide only to reveal another head coming out with a swift movement to bite and drag your opponent back to your mouth like a cuckoo clock. In the background of the battle field fighting and watching you kick ass like “that’s my boy/girl/Ducky”.

Ghost was suspicious of you when he first met you, he observes you from a far, when he finally opens up to you more he will tell the most cheesy dad jokes. “Hey what do you call a bear that has no teeth?”. . . . . “A gummy bear” (sorry I had too, my bad 😂💀) “what did the duck say to the bar tender?”. . . . . “Put it on my bill.” (Ok fine I’ll stop)

He enjoys just sitting down with you, there’s a smile behind his mask when you do your ducky dance, he doesn’t know why but he manages to crack a smile and let out a snort when you do it. He also can’t help but to crack a smile behind his mask when you make quacks to say “hey ghost how are you doing?” And “what up Lt.” as for Soap, he loves you, Johnny loves you, from your traffic cone hat to your ducky dance and to your cute little waddles when you walk or run. He was always curious about your monster type and he finds you both cool and adorable. He hypes you up when you ducky dance, he will also make an attempt to try to do your ducky dance as well with a funky beat in the background. It always blows a circuit in his mind when you sit down because it looks like your legs completely disappeared without a trace. He also asks if he can ride you (Ayo? Not like that, he means like a piggy or more like ducky back ride) Gaz like soap, loves you, he also hypes up your sweet dance moves. he might attempt on trying to do your ducky dance. He runs around with you on free time. He in enjoys roof top talks with you and goofing off with you.

You and Alejandro get along, you two are dance buddies, you two joke around and laugh a lot. You love helping Rudy, Soap, and Gaz play pranks then act a fool when you are questioned by it.

In the end they love you, you are their chaotic ball of sunshine.

[callsign-bunnie]

Hi, will you still make abo soap x ghost?

Where a drunk someone starts to get close to soap and ghost had to intervene.

ABO has such a special place in my heart, because I just... it's so fascinating and I could talk about it for hours.

--

Their relationship was fairly new. Maybe that worried Soap. He'd picked up on Ghost's hesitancies in courting Soap, but... he was trying not to dwell on them. Despite the false confidence he projected to everyone else, he was fairly insecure.

He was afraid he wouldn't be exciting enough for the alpha, which was a silly thought, he knew. He didn't even mean sexually, either. Ghost had expressed that he'd gotten used to a violent, never slow lifestyle and that had immediately went to Soap's head, making him nervous he'd never be enough.

Why was he even thinking about this? Well, Soap was watching another omega make attempt after attempt to Ghost. Ghost was turning every single try down but... well, Soap was insecure, what could he say?

Soap tried to push the thoughts out of his head, instead turning to the bar and ordering another drink. He both heralded and cursed his high alcohol tolerance, since his mind couldn't quite decide if he wanted to get drunk or not that night.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Soap's eyes instinctively rolled. Before Ghost, the attention from a random alpha would have had him excited, immediately but... well, one person took up all of his thoughts, lately, it seemed. He didn't want anyone else's attention, he just wanted Ghost's.

Soap did try to be polite. "Sorry, I'm not interested." He told the alpha, glancing to them. They weren't even his type. Smaller, but looked like they tried too hard to be big and scary. No, he didn't have a thing for try-hards.

"Are you sure? I could make you interested." The alpha leaned against the bar, drinking from his own glass.

Soap made a face and again looked at the alpha, able to tell, immediately, that they were drunk. The alpha's scent made him uncomfortable, smelling like honeydew melon, which was actually scent he liked... but this smelled sour. Rotten. He could almost taste the slime of fermentation dripping from it. "I don't think you could." He chuckled.

The alpha paused and then he looked irritated. "You could just give me a chance, you know." He huffed. "God, you omegas are all the same."

Soap took everything in himself not to just strangle the alpha right there. He was on thin ice with Price, as it was, and he doubted getting in a random barfight would lend anything good to his case. He took a breath, deciding to settle on just telling him off. "Listen-"

A presence grew at his back, and he watched the alpha's eyes travel up above Soap's head. "Fuck off." It was a simple order, but the sound of it made Soap's whole body shiver. An arm went around his middle and he smugly grinned at the alpha.

The alpha didn't even try to fight it, just quickly nodded. "Yes sir." Then, he was leaving.

Soap turned to look at Ghost, about to thank him, when he was suddenly being half dragged across the bar. Ghost dropped cash on it, grumbling that he wanted their IDs back.

Soap blinked. "Why?" He asked as the bartender quickly handed them back. It appeared no one wanted to mess with Ghost.

"Because we're going home." Ghost barely glanced at him, shoving their IDs in the pockets of his jeans, black which Soap would admit to thinking fit his ass just a little too well.

"Why?" Soap was slightly disappointed.

Ghost looked at him, his eyes dark. Oh. Soap shivered and then he was grinning when Ghost grabbed his wrist and practically yanked him out of the bar, having no problem following.

[blingblong55]

To drive or not to drive- 141

Based on a request:

can you imagine medic!reader where she's like super tiny and young like 141 was her third assignment and if anything she's like only 3 years younger than johnny but by GOD she looks like a kid. and everyone thinks she's like this poor little private O-1 who got shoved in here. and then one night she got invited with the group to go out and as they're sitting at the bar, Johnny's like...are you even old enough to be here? and shes like if im old enough to stick everyone here with vaccines, i think i can drink a fruity cocktail and everyone's like but you can't even drive and readers like i never learnt how and basically the whole team just realized that reader's age and experience does not match up. like they don't know how to drive a car but damnit they just drove a humvee to amputate a man's leg in the field??

F!Reader, Medic!Reader

As the current youngest member of Task Force 141 and the only one who isn't as tall as the men you work with, always get asked, 'How the hell did they think you'd be a great match?'. And with all honesty, you don't even know that yourself. Tonight, as part of them trying to get to know you, they invited you to have some drinks with them. To the better judgement of Laswell, you accepted.

"I tell ya, lass 'ere is such a wee 'ittle thing, I bet she can't even down a drink."

"False, I can...I'm old enough to do as I please, a matter of fact." You look at the men, and all amused you finally speak up. Soap was always the one to make the most comments on who you are, your knowledge and your age. "Yeah? 're yer sure yer can even be in'ere?"

"Yes...I may not be the strongest of the bunch or the fact I am no tall man with abs and weird veiny arms..but if I can make the decision whether or not you to inject morphine in your body is enough proof. To decide if I should ease the pain of a wound inflicted by the enemy should be enough to tell you I am not defined by my appearance." You take a sip from your drink.

Ghost is impressed by your words but will never admit that to you or anyone. Gaz never took your knowledge and the way you spoke for granted rather he licked it so much he could listen to you day after day. "Couldn't even work a car if asked.." his thick Scottish accent hinting at the defeat, he loved to mess with you because you were such an easy target for his jokes. "That is true, never cared to learn." You don't deny the fact you never learnt which only fed into Soap's jokes for the future.

The other men then understood that although you weren't as they were, tall, strong and dangerous men..you, in your own ways, medical-wise, were just like them. One thing did matter here though, your age and knowledge were so far off the other, 23-year-olds are so different from medics, with the precision enough to inflict pain if needed only to gain a soldier more time to live. You might not drive or be tall and have veiny arms that look like they'll just burst at any given moment, but you were one thing..split in two. A medic, capable of anything to save a life and a human...not afraid to tell others you didn't and haven't mastered or even dare learn to drive.

It was 2 o'clock, Soap in the med bay and you with a small smirk, satisfied he had to seek you after the injury he gave himself while walking back from the pub. Maybe if he learned to close wounds and you'd learn to drive, things would be different.

A/N: Pointless ig...but it's something I suppose.