#pricegaz

[axelnyx]

Trans Soap + Poly141 fic bc I can

Fic Name: Angry Again

Summary:

A surprise call from Soap's parents brings up old memories and buried emotions revolving around the sergeant's trans identity. He is left dealing with the aftermath alone, too afraid to seek support from his teammates (who he may or may not have feelings for), in fear of them rejecting him when they discover he's trans. Of course, his team is bound to eventually notice his change in behavior, especially when it continues to go downhill.

can also be read on ao3

Chapter 1: Disconnected

CW/TW: Transphobia, Manipulation

You would think that being in a military setting would make it near impossible to hide being trans. In truth, it’s not as hard as it seems. When changing in a locker room or taking a shower in the base bathrooms, everyone is usually too focused on their own tasks to pay any real attention to anyone else. That’s not to say that Soap still isn’t cautious. He still prefers to change with his back facing his team, and showers either early in the mornings or late at night when he knows it will be relatively empty. He changes the tape (a similar color to his skin to make it less noticeable) on his chest in the privacy of his own room, late at night and with only the brightness of his phone as a light source. Not the most efficient method, but it’s discrete. Soap doesn’t really have to worry when on long ops. His gear usually hides any semblance of his chest should the tape become loose and start to peel off. But what about medical situations? Lucky for Soap, Laswell had pulled some strings so medics knew to firmly keep their mouths shut.

Laswell is the only person Soap has told. He had done it when he first met her and had practically begged the woman not to put it in his file. She had agreed, somewhat, to Soap’s surprise. Laswell had even gone as far as to change all his documents to match with his identity. She did, legally, for medical reasons have to put that he was trans in his file, however she assured Soap that only necessary people (i.e. medical personnel) would have access to that information. To anyone else, the information would be redacted.

It wasn’t long after that Soap had begun to work with the 141. While Laswell had promised that the team was open minded and wouldn’t judge him, Soap had still been hesitant to tell them of his transition. He was grateful when Laswell accepted this without argument and let him decide on his own when, or if, he would tell them.

Which brings us to today. It’s been a few years since the formation of 141 and the team had only grown closer to each other. However, Soap still had yet to tell them he was trans, and his team had not found out on their own. He can’t decide if he’s happy about it or not. On one hand, him being trans is none of his team’s business and what they think about it shouldn’t matter. On the other, being trans has definitely had an effect on his life. Hell, he’s lost family and friends over it, and an anxious voice in the back of his mind is worried he’d lose his team as well if they ever found out. Even more of a reason not to tell them, right? Except, Soap wants to know how they will react. He wants to know if they would support him, or disown him like so many others before. It’s a terrifying thought, but Soap can’t see himself being friends with or trusting people who would be disgusted by his existence. Still…he can’t seem to build up the courage and no time ever seems right. So, Soap has said nothing, and prays his team won’t find out until he’s ready.

Currently, Soap is sitting at a booth in a bar, his teammates with him as they all nursed their respective drinks. They had recently come back from a week-long operation, one of the rare ones that went off without a hitch or any casualties. So, once back on base and after getting cleaned up, the four had decided to go out for a few celebratory drinks. Soap was sat on one side of the booth with Gaz leaning against his side, an arm over the Scot’s shoulders. Price was across from the two, recounting a story from his time as a recruit. It’s a tale the others had heard before, but they still laughed along the same way they did when they first heard it. Ghost sat next to Price, his balaclava rolled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, a small barely-there smile on his scarred lips.

Soap, who was entranced in Price’s story, was brought back to himself as he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. The Scot sets his drink down and reaches into his pocket to pull out the device, Gaz leaning back to make it easier for him to move. Soap looked down as a number with no caller ID lit up his screen. “Gonna answer that, Johnny?” Ghost asks from across the table, a small smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his whiskey. Soap rolled his eyes and flipped the lieutenant off as he pressed the answer button. “Hello?” He says as he brings his phone up to his ear.

“Joana?”

Soap’s heart drops into his stomach as his mother’s voice greets him. His team must immediately sense something is wrong, because the booth suddenly goes silent. “Everything alright, Tav?” Gaz asks, his brows furrowed with concern. Soap plasters on a forced smile and waves his teammates’ concern away. “Gotta take this.” He says as he stands from the booth, quickly making his way out of the bar and out onto the quieter, late night street.

“Ma?” The sergeant murmurs into the phone in slight disbelief. He hadn’t heard from his parents in years. Not since he left home at sixteen to join the military (boy did that take a lot of lying that Laswell ended up seeing right through. But, hey, she helped him anyway so, a win is a win). “Joanna, sweetie!” His mother’s voice echoes through the phone, “It’s been so long! How are ye doin’?” Soap takes a moment to respond, still reeling from the sudden call. “Ah’m alright, but ye know I go by John n-.” She suddenly cuts him off. “That’s great, dear. Yer Da an’ I just wanted ta check in on ye. Ye never call us anymore.” She says, her voice sickly sweet. Soap feels a spark of guilt shoot through him.

“Aye,” Soap murmurs in reply, shifting his weight uncomfortably and rubbing the back of his neck, “Jus’ been busy wit’ missions an’ trainin’ an’ such.” “Too busy ta call yer own family?” The voice of his father cuts in. Soap visibly cringes, tensing where he stood. “Aye.” He responds weakly. He can hear his father scoff on the other side of the phone. “Ye shouldnae gone an’ run off, Joana. Shoulda stayed home wit’ yer folks and yer family. Now ye cannae even have the decency ta call once in awhile.” The older man huffs through the phone. Soap can feel his guilt growing, but anger comes along with it this time. “It’s John, and ye huvnae reached out all this time either.” He points out sharply.

“Ugh, yer still on tha’ bein’ a boy thing? Really, Joana, dinnae ye think it’s time ta move on from tha’ nonsense?” His mother’s voice spoke up. Soap clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to try and stop himself from saying anything too harsh. These were his parents and he felt he owed them some sort of respect, no matter home agitating they were. “Yer team even know about this? Dinnae tell me they’re encoragin’ ye.” His father grumbles. Soap froze and his silence must be answer enough because his father continues. “Ye dinnae tell them,” His father states like he knows for sure, “Ye know why ye dinnae tell ‘em, Joana, because ye know it ain’t real. This bein’ a boy thing is jus’ somethin’ ye made up ta upset us and get under our skin. Well, it worked. Now ye can quit pretendin’, we’ve figured ye out. Ye ain’t foolin’ nobody, Joana, and I bet yer team would agree. An’ if they dinnae, then they’re just as foolish as y-.” “Dinnae talk abou’ meh fuckin’ team.” Soap snaps before he can think better of it.

The phone is silent on the other end before his mother’s voice crackles through. “Joana, enough is enough, lass. It’s time to stop this nonsense an’ come home. We let ye go off on yer own in hopes ye’d eventually come ta yer senses. Clearly tha’ ain’t happenin’, so ye need to come home so we can help ye.” She says with thinly veiled agitation. Soap felt his anger growing. “Come home?” He asks with a bitter laugh, “Ah left for a reason, Ma. Ye an’ Da never accepted me and ye treated me like garbage because of who Ah was. Ah didnae ‘decide’ ta become trans jus’ ta piss ya off. Ah’ve explained this to ye over and over again. This is who Ah am.” “Yeah, well, ‘who ye are’ has ruined this family.” Soap’s father cuts in gruffly. “Yer bein’ selfish, Joana.” His mother adds on bitterly.

Soap felt a mix of intense anger, guilt and hurt build inside him. He knows how much damage him coming out had caused to his family. His parents and siblings would constantly get into argument about his parents misgendering him. Once Soap had left home, his siblings were quick to go their own ways as well, essentially cutting off contact with their parents. To his surprise, his grandparents had also cut contact with his mother and father after they found out how unsupportive they were of their son. While he was glad to have the support of some of his family members, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for breaking his family apart.

Before Soap could come up with a response, his attention was drawn by the sound of the bar door opening and closing. He instinctively turned to look and tensed when he saw Ghost standing near the entrance, lighting up a cigarette. He was far away that he couldn’t here Soap, but the sergeant knew Ghost was watching him closely. “Ah got ta go.” Soap says flatly into the phone, hanging up before his parents could respond.

Soap pocketed his phone and took a deep breath to try and quell the emotions rising inside of him. After a moment, he stood straighter and put on a small smile before turning to make his way over ta Ghost. “Those things will kill ye, ye know.” He says lightheartedly as he goes to stand beside the lieutenant. He plucks the cigarette from between Ghost’s fingers and brings it up to his own lips to take a drag. “We all die one day, Johnny.” Ghost replies simply, his eyes searching Soap’s expression. “Who called?” He asks the sergeant. Soap shrugged his shoulders and waved a dismissive hand as he passed the cigarette back over to Ghost. “Auld friend, jus’ wanted ta catch up.” He lies easily. Ghost hums in acknowledgement, clearly not fully believing the sergeant, as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

The two stand in silence for a while, passing the cigarette between each other until it burns down. Ghost blows out a last plume of smoke before stamping out the cigarette bud and disposing of it. “Comin’ back in?” He questions as he pulls his balaclava back down over the bottom half of his face. Soap shook his head before replying, “Nah, Ah’m knackered. Imma head back ta base an’ call it a night.” Ghost paused, seemingly wanting to say something. However, after a moment, the lieutenant simply nodded. “Alright, I’ll let Price and Kyle know. Goodnight, Johnny.” He responds. A much more genuine smile forms on Soap’s face. “Night, Si.” The sergeant says, waiting for Ghost to go back inside before starting to make his own way back to base.

[vozart]

SAY GOOD MORNING TO OUR TROOPS

[bluegiragi]

charmed.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[s3rrrpentine]

old men amirite

[vic-draws-sometimes]

Who's your starter?

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalyptic Omegaverse AU

Summary - You missed the end of the world. Fine by you. You thrived in your new surroundings, content to be on your own. Until something happens during your third winter.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. Uh... This came to me in a fever dream. Consider this a prologue. 141 x reader

You think you're pretty lucky all things considered. You had always been self sufficient and your childhood gave you skills you were able to call on after the entire world shat itself. To be honest, you hadn't even noticed the world had completely gone to ruin until you tried to call your pharmacy to refill your heat and scent suppressants.

The line was dead. So you called the grocery store. Dead. The movie theater, the diner, the post office. Dead dead dead. Panic seized you by the throat and you dropped your home phone onto the ground. You splashed cold water onto your face and looked into the mirror with puffy eyes and shaking hands.

What were you going to do? The world couldn't have ended. Right? You should have noticed sooner. "Fuck," you said, pulling on your shoes and grabbed your car keys, you got into your car, "fuck!"

As it turns out, you did in fact miss the ending of the world. You yelled obscenities and banged on your steering wheel. The entire small town you lived near was deserted. Windows were boarded up and cars were parked by the road with tires missing or windows smashed in.

You missed the entire end of the world.

As it turns out, the end of the world wasn't that bad. Nothing really changed. Well besides the rarity of getting your hands on heat suppressants and scent blockers. The first week after you finally got caught up on the whole "the world has ended" thing you raided.

You avoided using your car after you got a mild scare that someone else had been attracted to the noise. Hiding in the very smelly gas station bathroom while you listened to the sound of boots crunching on glass was enough to teach you that lesson.

You tore apart the pharmacy the first week, finding what had to be at least four months worth of scent blockers and nine months of heat suppressants. You took everything you deemed useful and stuffed it into your backpack before hiking back home.

You set up a routine, patrol the forest edge twice a day, care for your garden and check any trap for animals to eat. Self sufficiency had never been such a blessing.

It was the middle of winter three years later when you first saw them.

Men. No, not just men. Alphas. Their scent almost made your knees buckle when you smelt it down wind. For a moment your mind went hazy as their smells flooded your mind until that part of your brain that had been responsible for your survival kicked back in.

Alphas. In your territory. Your territory. It felt like a crime and you felt your inner omegas turmoil. As you watched the four men walk down the road that led into town through your binoculars you debated on what you should do. Run, flee while you are down wind. With shaky hands, whether from the cold or fear you didn't know, you climbed down from the perch you were on and sprinted back home while doing your best to cover your own tracks.

You went in circles, outside in the cold long past when your hands and feet had gone cold. But you were sure they couldn't follow. You were sure they didn't even know you were there.

Three years. You had been off of heat suppressants and scent blockers for years. After a while your heats had stopped coming, whether it was from lack of sleep or stress or some evolutionary thing that happened when no one to mate was around, the bottom line was that you were unprepared.

You boarded up your door and threw water on your fire. You grabbed every blanket in the house and ran into your bedroom. At first you did it for warmth. If you were going to hide you couldn't have fire to give out smoke and you needed to be warm.

Then you continued to mess with the blankets and pillows. You huffed, growing increasingly frustrated at your inability to get it right. You grabbed your laundry and threw it in too, arranged and rearranged until it felt right. It wasn't until you took a step back that you realized what you had done. Something you haven't in years. Before you was a nest. Large enough to fit many in it. Maybe even five. You swallowed hard as your fingers dug into your stomach. It was going to be a long winter.

[bashi-splashy]

HEATSTROKE!

[arualthefirst]

Resting place

[ramvur]

got your six

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

Introduction: the universe is never on your side.

wake up, go to work, eat, read, and go to sleep.

that had been your routine for the last couple months ever since you moved in to your new place. your new home.

it really didn’t bother you at all. the solitude, the quietness, the undeniable lack of socialization you had, it was okay with you even if might have looked like the most miserable life to others.

it was a great place to the say the least. your last resort to finally getting the fuck out of the apartment you had shared with your now ex-roommate. you couldn’t bare living there another day hearing her constant sexual acts with every guy she brought in like they were some kind of rabid animals. gross.

there was really no need to say goodbye either. jumping out of your bed in excitement when you got the message from the real estate agent that the place was ready for you to move in.

finally, finally after so many years of busting your ass and saving just enough, you had your own place. not hesitating to pack your things that same day and shove everything into your old but still functional car.

you were free.

the moving was tedious and exhausting, working your muscles out when your furniture finally arrived and giving an awkward smile to your next door neighbor which you later got to find out that her name was charlotte, but insisted on you calling her just auntie lottie. she was a nice old lady, mid 70s who frequently brought you some of her delicious homemade baking with every new recipe she came across. who were you to reject free food?

auntie lottie was probably the only person you had actually talk to ever since moving in, occasionally sitting on her porch just to chat or helping her out with her garden at times.

it was one friday afternoon where the weather was a bit too cold to sit outside and found yourself sitting on auntie lotties couch as she talked about her children, grandchildren, or just the latest gossip. you were more on the listening end of the spectrum, at times putting in your two cents when she asked of your families whereabouts and pointed out ‘how such a young lady shouldn’t be living by herself! you ought to have a husband by now.’

you knew she didn’t mean it with bad intentions but it made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment with the reminder that you were truly utterly unsuccessful when it came to relationships. sure, you had your fair share of partners and they never lasted longer than a few months before they were heading out the door when they realized your lack of intimacy.

it just never felt right and you really couldn’t blame them, despite it leaving an ache in your chest. you really don’t quite remember how the topic of conversation was brought up but she had mentioned that your other neighbors just across from you would be here soon.

“really? I thought no one lived there..” furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you brought the cup of tea up to your lips. it had been empty ever since you got here. no visible cars or sign of life making itself known for you to determine if someone actually lived there. you just figured it was empty.

“they’re an odd bunch but they’re sweet and handsome. most of the time they’re gone. no worries though, I’ll introduce you to them, dear.” you really weren’t fond of that idea and by the way her eyes wrinkled with that sly look she gave you, a worried chuckle made its way past your lips.

“sure, that would be nice.”

true to her word, they arrived the very next day.

the engine of a black SUV waking you up from your three-hour nap that had your joints popping back in place after stretching your limbs out of their locked positions with how long you had been lying down on the couch.

that wasn’t really what caught your attention though, fighting off the idea of just going back to sleep before your ears caught on the multitude of voices from outside. reluctantly, you get yourself out from the confines of your soft blanket and sit up on your knees to open one of the blinds with your fingers.

your eyes widened at the sight before you. four big men, all of them carrying a variety of duffle bags make their way out of the car. some of them stretching after what you presume a long drive.

you can’t quite get a good look at them but you could tell they were all pretty good-looking even from the distance. starting with the one who probably had better hair days with the way his mohawk was a total mess, leaning against the tallest man you have ever seen as he rubs the sleep off his eyes. skull mask doesn’t seem to be bothered by the shorter man’s tactics. an arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling face first on the pavement as they make their way to the front door.

flicking your eyes towards the other side of the car, you zero in on probably the most gorgeous guy you have ever seen. he wears a cap, the UK flag displayed on it and you almost gasp when he turns just enough for you to see how smooth his skin looks. totally not jealous. the last of the group finally gets out from the drivers seat. he looks older than the other three but his stance screams authority and respect once he adjusts himself. these were the neighbors lottie was talking about?

but before you could ponder the fact that you were living across four big scary men, mutton chops turns around towards your direction and makes eye contact with you.

you flinch away from the window a little too hard, tumbling your way over the couch and down onto the floor.

“shit!” you quickly cover your mouth, lying on the ground in defeat and your pride more broken than it already is for at least a few minutes before you slowly get yourself up and warily open the blinds again only to find that they had already headed inside.

letting out a small sigh of relief, you sit down on the cold floor. tilting your head back to rest against the cushion of your couch as you beg to any god out there that they didn’t catch you basically eyeing them down.

auntie lottie will definitely hear about this on your next ‘girls night’.

a/n: this is me forgiving myself after not uploading something for 2-3 months.? I’m sorry ;-;

[yakowo]

lovely Pirate AU commission for redhairedmuses7 on twt 🫶

[g8se]

One-Frog-One 🐸

[vozart]

first post is a pile of men

[bluegiragi]

wing thing

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[red5tars]

cw: cheating (against reader)

imagine being kyle’s partner. met him at some bar a few months back, the one night stand turning into two. then four. then more.

it’s jarring to see how where you two are now. sure, he was a good fuck, but he’s an even better boyfriend. everyone you know loves him, and everyone he knows loves you.

well, except price.

and it would be so much easier to ignore him if he wasn’t so significant to kyle. boss, captain, father figure. if kyle puts you on a pedestal, he has built a shrine for price.

fondness that teeters on obsession.

still, it’s not your place to say anything. he’s probably just looking out for him! after all, you’ve heard about his nasty divorce (it was kyle who told you. you can count the amount of conversations you’ve had with price on one hand), and that he just wants the best for his sergeant. his son.

so you leave it. whatever is between them is none of your business. besides, the worst thing price has done is send you a sharp glare. there’s absolutely nothing to be worried about.

until you catch your boyfriend on his knees for his captain, face pressed right into john’s pubic hair. his adam’s apple is more pronounced, thanks to the thick cock jammed in his throat.

it seems his adoration leaned more towards affection then.

[konigsblog]

TW/CW: RELIGIOUS THEMES, NON-CON/DUB-CON, BLACKMAIL. READ THE WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ ⛪

Priest!Price who forces you to repent for your lustful and wicked sins, for rebelling against the beliefs of your religion. The sight of you before him is hypnotising; on your knees, tears streaming down your gleaming, shining cheeks with your eyes tightly closed, murmuring a prayer beneath your breath while trembling anxiously.

Fuck, he could take advantage of you like this, blackmail you to get exactly what he craves. You wouldn't dare tell anyone. Y’know, he could easily pry your jaw open and force his meaty, sweaty cock down your tight, strained throat for the blasphemous bullshit you've been spewing behind his back. You wouldn't want your loved ones finding out, would you?

He'll force you to memorise specific verses and apologise for your sins, leaving you vulnerable and helpless before him. You'll stumble over your words, desperately attempting to string a coherent sentence together, with his broad hips driving against your plush rear and his hung, hefty dick stuffing your tight, drooling hole. You memorise these verses to mumble them out between broken sobs and muffled whines, apologising profusely for your sinful actions.