#protective tf141

[other-fandoms-reblogs]

I need to know more. Would you write more?

Like why did they take them? Was it an assignment because of who they work for and the information they have? Like is the dude a bad guy, so the people pleaser reader tells them everything they want to know about their soon to be ex boss. They even give them access to their high tech laptop to get more information.

The people pleaser reader is really a good person, but a tad too trusting, so TF141 basically adopts them to protect them from the big bad world. They just tell them they’re moving in with them to protect them from their ex boss and never mention ever to move out.

They basically become a housewife and enjoy it since they tend to be a very service oriented person. The only downfall is they’re so focused on the guys that they don’t take care of themself and the guys don’t really know them. The guys begin to desire to know them better and why they’re such a people pleaser/trust too easily.

So, one night the guys come home early and they make dinner for the reader. They make the reader after much fussing from the reader to let the guys take care of them for the night. They don’t understand and get scared. They define themself by how they can provide and be of service to those round them. That’s where this self-worth is and they’re scared as dinner goes on with the typical dinner chatter that they’re going to be abandoned. That’s what everyone else has done.

When they did whatever it was the people wanted of them, they’re thrown out like trash and the reader doesn’t understand why. They always think they’re doing everything right and those in the past never say anything or criticize them.

So by the end of dinner, Gaz has started cooing at them and asking them to take a few more bites since they lost their appetite due to their anxiety (fear). Soap even tried to have a silly contest to see who can finish their plate first. It doesn’t happen. The reader breaks down and sobs.

The guys are stunned and don’t understand what they did wrong. They immediately crowd the reader and comfort them. They apologize and Soap points out how they wanted to take care of them, so they knew they appreciated the reader. John commands the team to move to the living room which has two couches and bigger open space so they aren’t crowding the reader. Ghost stays back and gets an ice cold glass of water for the reader and a wet hand towel with a dry one, and then comes to the living room. He grunts at Gaz to move who does. Ghost sits next to the reader, wiping their face off with the damp hand towel. Has them drink the water, and then pats their face and lips dry.

The team stays silent watching the affection and care that Ghost puts into the reader. Once the reader has drunk water and cleaned up, Ghost takes their bare hand in his bare hand, giving it a squeeze. He’s still in his balaclava.

Price, being the captain and face of the task force, explains their intentions to the reader; even though Soap already did. When the reader finds out they aren’t being kicked out and are still wanted, they’re so thankful that they even offer sex to repay them for their kindness.

So, this does two things: 1.) Makes it awkward since that is not where they were going with any of this and 2.) opens the team’s mind to view the reader differently. That’s for later.

Price denies this offer for the team. Soap just eyes the reader having found them adorable and cute with a nice ass before shrugging and nodding at his Captain. Ghost keeps their hand in his. Gaz chuckles under his breath. He already thought the reader was cute with nice legs.

The reader awkwardly accepts this as things move on. Price states they want to know more about the reader, like how did they start working for their ex boss. What was their childhood like? Did they have siblings or best friends? Are their parents still around and did they want to see them? He even offers to find them if they don’t.

It’s a lot of questions for the already overwhelmed reader. Price and Ghost easily see this. Price asks them to think about it but makes sure to explain in small words that the reader is here because the team wants them here. The team wants to take care of them and protect them for who they are, not what they can do. They’re very thankful for all they’ve done but tomorrow, they’re gonna sit down and see about rehashing a few things out to make it a bit more fair to the reader because they don’t want them overburdened. They don’t want them to worry like this ever again. They’re too important to the team.

All the guys nod and verbal agree, except Ghost who grunts. He doesn’t talk a ton, still getting used to the reader’s presence.

Insecure, people pleaser Reader being kidnapped by tf141….

“Wait! Where are we going? Did you put all this effort into taking ME?” Reader asks, shocked that four hot men want her….

The boys exchange concerned looks.

“Well, here let me help! No need to make it harder on you guys. Where are we going? I can walk if that helps.”

No one replies… everyone is speechless

[gomzdrawfr]

The first thing that came into my mind when I woke up this morning

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Soap

Johnny[Soap] MacTavish x AFAB!Reader | TF141 x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Gaz | Price | Ghost | Soap | Snake in the garden

MDNI!!

With the team back, you noticed you always had a shadow following you around base. Currently in the clinic you held back the smirk as you caught a glimpse of Johnny stepping in and leaning by your door to your office. Finishing up the last few stitches on the new recruits temple you turned around to clean up the bloody cotton swabs, "So, does a kiss come with the bandage?" Looking up to Johnny, you saw how his whole body tensed, face hardened, his sweet playful smile gone, he was glaring at the boys behind you.

"No, your buddy can give you one though if you really need it." You said taping a bandage over his stitches. Flinching a bit when one of the boys grabbed your right arm and tried pulling you more to them. "Owe, hey, let me go."

"Why you trying to be smart? Co-" The recruit was cut off as Johnny grabbed his collar and dragged him closer coming face to face.

"Let go of her right now." You shivered at his tone, following his hand, as he guided you gently behind him, "Bonnie, go back to the barracks, LT should be there."

"But Joh-"

"Go." He glanced at you, tone soft but warning, eyes holding his anger, not at you though, once he got a good look at you he softened slightly. "Go Bonnie."

"Okay." You were quiet as you turned and left following his order. Walking into the barracks, sure enough Simon was sitting on the couch leaned back flicking through the channels. "Hi."

"Hey luv, you okay?" You sat down beside him and fiddled with your fingers looking over to the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You'd said turning and looking at him trying to smile.

"What happened?" He'd asked, leaning forward onto his elbows on his knees, staring at you.

"I think Johnny might be killing some recruits in the clinic." Glancing to the corner of your peripheral at Simon, "They'd made something of an inappropriate comment and then grabbed me." And before your could say anything more the door to the barracks opened making you both look to it, and you shot up making your way around the coffee table. Johnny stepped in, blood all over his hands, and some on his cheek and on his shirt, "Oh my god, Johnny, baby, are you okay?"

"Aye, m' alright bonnie, not me to worry bout." His playful smile was back, eyes gleaming as he looked down at you while he made his way to the sink.

"Jesus, did you kill them?" You'd asked handing him soap and then finding a clothe to grab his wrists and take over helping him wipe the blood from his hands. "You didn't... did you?" His chuckle sent a cold chill down your spine and decided to stop any further questions on the recruits and after getting one hand cleaned, you pulled his hand up and kissed each of his knuckles and then turned his hand to kiss his palm. Drying it quickly, you then grabbed his other hand and repeated the process. Finishing you looked up at him just as he turned you around and sliding his arms around your waist and started guiding you to his room. Glancing back you saw as Simon was now talking with Kyle, where Kyle came from you had no clue but they both looked mad. Stepping into Johnny's room all you could think was that if Johnny hadn't killed them, the other guys were definitely going to based off their looks. "Johnny?"

"How's yer arm?" He asked after removing his shirt, grabbing your hips lightly, he pulled you between his legs as he sat down.

"I'm fine, really. I tried telling you that at the clinic." You cupped his cheeks, then started dragging your hands and fingers all over him, rubbing and squeezing. "Johnny, baby, what did you do?"

Looking up at you he smirked, "Ye know what I did bonnie, so does LT." That remark made you shiver, "I've no doubt he and the other two will take care of the rest if they are still sitting in there." Biting your lip you pouted pinching his chin and forcing him to look up into your eyes.

"Work is work, but not when it comes to this Johnny. I don't want you guys to do anything rash, especially because of me. You're such an amazing man and I appreciate you protecting me and standing up for me, but I would never get over it if anything happened to my bois." You kissed his forehead then littered kisses all over his face. "Please don't do anything rash because of me Johnny." You whispered against his lips before pushing into him, his back straightening into you, his hands fully wrapping around you and keeping you against him. "Promise me Johnny, I can't loose you guys."

Pulling you into his lap he kissed his cheeks and nose, "I promise bonnie."

Wrapping your left arm around his neck you pulled him back into a kiss, squeezing your thighs on either side of his hips. "Johnny." As he let kisses lightly trail down your neck and carefully graze over your collar being so delicate with you, you felt like glass. Shivering in his hands as he unbuttoned your shirt, ever so carefully sliding your shirt down and off of you. "So gentle with me, making me feel special." You said smiling as his eyes glinted up at you as his tongue dragged through your breasts. "Gentle but dirty." You giggled locking your lips with his, moaning as you sucked on his tongue when he slide it between your lips. Feeling him slowly grind your hips along him you started moving with him whining into his mouth as a hand dipped into your pants fingers teasing through your underwear. Gasping back as you both looked down, you undid your pants, and watched as he pushed your underwear aside and slide his middle finger between your folds before dipping it into you his thumb rubbing your clit just how you like. Johnny never teased you when you guys would start to get intimate, he loved getting on his knees for you and getting you straight to an orgasm, pleasing you and making you happy. In his eyes, you work more than hard enough, he is always happy to serve you, taking each word you tell him as a command and not hesitating to follow.

"Yer amazing bonnie, so lucky." He said sliding another finger into you groaning with you as he started pumping his fingers into you, feeling your silky walls clasp around him.

"You're going to drive me crazy Johnny, always knowing how to make me happy baby. You ne-shit-never disappoint me. Oh, right there Johnny." Focused on his fingers you whimpered, the sound of your pussy squishing around his fingers filling both yours and Johnny head. Eager to hear you some more, Johnny used his other hand to slide your tank top up your body and fondle your breasts, before then unclasping your bra. Moaning when he started flicking your one nipple and sucking your other nipple between his lips, suckling and flicking the bud you arched up to his mouth cupping the back of his head holding him to you, grinding your hips more into his hand. Trying to spread your legs a little further your breath stuttered in your throat as your clit throbbed under his thumb, the pressure fogging your mind making you delirious, mindlessly humping his hand aimless praise and pleas falling from your lips.

Grunting around your nipple he smiled looking up to you as he felt your arousal gushing and spilling around his fingers, your walls flutter, trying to suck his fingers deeper, all while you came, "FuCK! Yes, Johnny, fuck." Still moving your hips over his fingers you road out your orgasm, the warm tingling in your stomach only growing when he released your nipple with a pop, his saliva connecting his bottom lip to your breast, "Like a babe." You giggled as you relaxed into his lap smiling as he spun the both of you, trapping you under him making sure to lay your head into his pillows.

"Aye, if ye keep letin us fuck ye unprotected, ye'll have a real one soon nough. Might s'well get yer pretty nipples ready, ya?" You couldn't help the blush that dusted your cheeks or the way that your cunt continued to clench around nothing. Slightly embarrassed you grabbed his shoulders.

"Who said I wasn't using protection?" You said noticing as he halted his movements and stopped kissing down your stomach to look at you.

"Ye uses protection with the others?"

"With all of you. I take birth control every morning and if I feel after a time with any of you that I could be or get pregnant...I take... a pill." It was quiet for a moment, felt too long considering this was Johnny. You couldn't get a read on if hearing this mad him upset or not, although you don't lay with anyone else but them, or entertain talking to anyone, you know how intimately they own you, and you know that none of them sleep or talk to anyone else either, they believing that they belong to you just as much. But any thought to your personal lives, at home, away from all this work and blood shed, how your relationship from deployment would actually be you had no clue, none of you had ever talked of it. "Johnny?"

"Hm." He'd only hummed, but his lips didn't return to your skin as he looked into your eyes. "Would it make ye that unhappy... to get pregnant by us?"

Your eyes widened, this conversation truly felt like a group discussion, an important one at that, "It's not that it would make me... I don't feel... I just didn't know what you guys would think if I came forward one morning...telling you all that I was pregnant." You traced his jaw with light fingers, "This is something for everyone to be apart of, other matters to discuss and figure out."

"Are you no longer in the mood?"

"Are you?"

The smirk that reclaimed it's place on his face eased your heavy heart, "Whenever I can get ye in my arms and especially in my bed I'll always be in the mood bonnie." Continuing his decent down your stomach, you shivered as he started working your pants and underwear down your legs, nipping and kissing to your ankles and then back up. Slotting himself between your legs, "We can have that chat with the others, but I want ye to know, I'm going to bend ye in half all night, fillin ye womb to the brim with everything I have. I don't want ye to take any extra precaution in the morning either. If ye get pregnant, mine or the others, I will take care of ye and the babe. Always and forever bonnie." His soft kisses to the apex of your thighs, pelvic and finally cunt whispering of a house, kids, dog you've always wanted and cat that he could stand, his mother loving you, you always round with his babes. While his tongue worked your clit, fingers continuing to fill you till he's felt content with the amount of times you've cum on his fingers you took the time to take over his foretelling of what the future could hold for the two of you. Excitedly mentioning the other men, for every time you mention bedding one of the others, carrying their babes, them also at that sweet picture dream home he would suckle a little harder on your clit, moan louder against your cunt, fingers scissoring and curling abusing that sensational spot that curls your toes.

Huffing through another orgasm you drowsily watched as he worked back up, stopping momentarily at your stomach rubbing his thumbs on the sides, kisses all over your stomach, and again around your breasts. Cupping your cheek, he kissed you, slowly, while the taste of you on his tongue and feel of his wet chin made you moan with him, wiggling under him, fumbling with his belt and pants. Working them down he sat up and removed them himself, pulling your leg to his hip before bringing his tip to rest at your entrance, kissing you deeply he eased himself in both of you moaning and whimpering. Tongues intertwining just like your bodies, you raised your legs a little higher onto his hips arching up as his cock reached to your cervix you clawed his shoulders and back, falling over the edge when his whimpers and silent pleas for you to take everything he had.

Feeling as his cock twitched inside of you before pushing his hips into you, you pushed back against him. Pulling your knees up and against your chest he held himself into you, playing your clit, using that little pearl to bring you to another orgasm, one that felt hot and piercing, taking your breath away as he started pounding himself into you through the middle of it, making you practically scream writhing and twisting from the stimulation.

Nearing morning the two of you, covered in sweat, his cum filled you to the brink, slowly spilling and pooling at your ass, groaning at the sit he turned to his side pushing his fingers back into you, trying to pump all back to its home. "Don't waste it bonnie."

"I'm still on birth control Johnny, this is more or less just practice." You giggled, also turning to him, throwing your leg over his him, the both of you scooting impossibly closer to each other.

"Fine, practice, amazing as it is, we'll perfect everything." He said laughing against your neck. Shaking your head you closed your eyes and tucked yourself around him falling asleep, your light snores lulling him to sleep.

---

Waking up some hours later, you untwined from Johnny making your way to the shower before too long Johnny had awoken and joined you, helping you wash the soap off your body and giving you an early morning orgasm that had the both of you almost slipping and falling, laughing as he tried to refill your emptying womb.

Making your way into the rec room, you noticed the rest of the guys sitting around quiet, "Good morning." You said walking in, John reached his arm out, slipping it around your waist while you were walking past him, pulling you to his lap.

"Two of you kept us up all night." He said, voice rough, and his cock twitching against your thigh.

"Sorry." You said stifling a laugh as Johnny chuckled making the two of you coffee.

"Sure you are gorgeous." Kyle said smirking at you.

Taking your cup from Johnny you sipped while he sat by Simon, quiet settling over all of you again. Although it was comfortable, your mind wander to last night, the small chat of pregnancy and your guys relationship out side of deployment heavy on your mind. How were you supposed to bring that up? Biting your tongue you decided to wait, there will be a time, you just don't want to bother them. Rolling your shoulders, pushing that tension aside, you melted into John's chest slowly looking over all of them.

"So, what did you guys do to the recruits?"

Snake in the Garden Love a dark twisted Johnny, beat the shit out of some creeps and breed the shit out of his girl.🥵 He'll do all that he can to make his girl happy, and make her cum.🫠 A real good man.🫡

[charliemwrites]

Omegas are the best for the military. Everyone knows that, it’s just common sense.

Omegas are notoriously level-headed and calm, protective without the tendency towards aggression and territorial possessiveness that characterizes their Alpha counterparts. They’re cooperative and adaptable, with heightened senses that at one evolutionary time kept them safe from rabid Alphas.

Now, it’s best suited to sniffing out potential threats, communicating sub-vocally, and noticing the smallest changes in their environment. The military finds them much more economical for combat, special ops, and even espionage compared to Alphas, who are pheromone sensitive, hard-headed, and generally indelicate.

That said, they’re not without their uses. Alphas tend to be lean, fast, and vicious. That aggression makes them both sword and shield in a fight, filing their sense of pain and fatigue down to almost nothing until the threat is neutralized.

Still, having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.

Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Four specialist Omegas with a metric ton of trauma per team member has the unfortunate consequence of hormonal imbalance. One thing feeds into another, a heat is put on hold for a mission because they can’t spare the manpower - it stacks and stacks and stacks until sleep is scarce and their usually well-maintained instincts are bursting at the seams. Compound that with the near loss of one of their team members…

The new Alpha is already there when the team returns from their latest assignment.

Laswell is waiting on the tarmac and an operative in black gear is standing a polite distance (plus one step more) from her elbow. Well within peripheral, but deferent. Their hands are clasped behind their back, shoulders straight but loose.

As TF141 approaches, Price expects the Alpha pheromones to waft his way any moment. It’s normal, expected even. A new environment, meeting strange Omegas, Alphas usually burn through their neutralizers quickly. Perhaps a vestigial instinct to carve a space for themselves in the world. Not necessarily their fault, but it happens.

Price is surprised that he smells nothing from the Alpha at all. Just the scents of detergent and soap, clean and standard. A quick glance at Simon confirms their most-sensitive nose doesn’t detect anything either.

Laswell introduces them, an Alpha that she’s personally worked with before and can verify is solid both on and off the field.

The Alpha’s muzzle is heavy duty but long-wear design. Hard-case and rigid instead of the more popular soft and flexible ones. Cushioned but firm at the bridge of the nose, chin, and corners of the jaw. Buckled tight at the back of the head, steel grid pattern across the front.

Price doesn’t arch his eyebrows at it but it’s a near thing.

They duck their head in greeting when Laswell introduces them as Saint, eyes flicking up briefly to each team member, eye-shine reflecting green in the bright runway lights.

Soap whistles, impressed.

“Yer a big ‘un, tha’s fer damn sure. Didnae ken they make ‘em like ye,” he drawls. Ghost cuffs him upside the head, reminding him to behave.

Saint blinks and doesn’t say anything. Curious.

“Let’s do proper introductions inside,” Price decides.

It goes much the same way in the 141’s den as it did out on the tarmac. Saint stands quiet and still while the Omegas take their turns.

There’s no scent to familiarize themselves with, so it’s mostly offering theirs to the Alpha. Except Saint doesn’t duck down to the neck Gaz offers. Instead, they pluck up his hand and bring his wrist to their muzzle. Inhale so quietly that only the swell of their chest indicates that they’re breathing him in.

They chuff softly, hold so loose that Gaz’s hand nearly drops from theirs. It’s approval, it can’t be anything else, but it sounds so… detached.

Still, Gaz chuffs in return, and makes way for the others. Saint does the same to Soap and by the time Simon steps up, he’s already tugging his sleeve up and his glove down.

Simon, to his own surprise, receives the same polite huff as the two sergeants. Most Alphas have found his direct scent to be unpleasant - too sharp and savory, bordering on Alpha. But Saint doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

When it’s finally Price’s turn, the only difference is that Saint swipes their own wrist along his. Scent claim. Not marking the 141 as theirs, but rather Saint as belonging with them.

Laswell, suspiciously amused, takes her leave soon after.

The 141 has an Alpha. A permanent one.

Living with an Alpha would have been a learning curve on its own. Living with SAINT is something else entirely.

For one, they apply clinical-strength neutralizer religiously. They have spares stashed everywhere. In their go-bag, their combat gear, the den, the lockers - even one in Price’s office. It’s better than the ones with fragrance, but if not for their ever-present muzzle, no one would be able to tell that they’re an Alpha.

And speaking of the muzzle.

It goes beyond common courtesy and public conduct. Even in the den, they keep the thing tightly pressed to their face, and don’t remove it for anything. They eat in their room and drink through straws when necessary.

When Price tells them that the team wouldn’t mind if they used a bite guard in the den, they just chuff softly and brush a hand along his shoulder. The muzzle stayed.

It’s not to say they don’t seem comfortable. Day by day, little signs of trust and ease seep into their Alpha’s mannerisms if they know where to look for it. A brush of skin here, a sub-vocal purr there. Spending hours upon hours in the den, available for any of the Omegas to sit with or cuddle or chat to. As much as teammate as an Alpha in the traditional sense.

It doesn’t take Soap and Gaz long at all to start hanging all over them, but Saint takes it with all the patience of their namesake. Price finds Soap lounging in their lap most times that they’re sitting, or leaning hard into their side while they watch recruits.

The muzzle is a no-touch zone, but they don’t get even growl the first time Soap discovers that. They just redirect him with a quiet click of their tongue, and let him nuzzle in when he apologizes.

Gaz is hardly any better, scent marking Saint like some bad Alpha stereotype. Poor thing goes around smelling overwhelmingly of bergamot and honey sometimes, but they never mind, never stop him from pressing his face to their chest or their back or even into their hands. Rubbing his face over any bit of skin or fabric available, even their jugular, despite the vulnerability of such a spot.

Still, Saint is aloof.

They’re perfectly responsive to their Omegas, head tilting at the slightest vocalization, quick to offer physical comfort when asked. They hardly ever seek it out for themself though, and show none of the near-obsessive behaviors associated with even the most mild of Alphas on the spectrum.

“I dinnae think Alpha likes us,” Soap whines one evening.

Saint is eating in their room, leaving the Omegas to a cuddle pile while they wait for their return.

He’s been lamenting it for a while now, repressing the rejected pang in his gut any time Saint doesn’t vocalize back, or reach for them first.

They work out in the Alpha-Only gym on base and do their laundry in the designated Alpha wash. Neither of those are regulations, it’s a choice they make. And it hurts a bit.

Saint is sweet, but their politeness goes past the point of old-fashioned.

“Course they do,” Simon grunts, dismissive. “They probably like us too much.”

“How do you reckon?” Gaz asks.

“Alpha didn’ go t’ eat ‘til we were all fed,” he replies, shrugging.

And it’s true. Saint doesn’t collect a scrap of nutrition until every one of their Omegas has had something to eat. Even Price, stubborn and work-focused as he can be, is gently urged to eat before Saint fills their own belly.

It doesn’t stop there.

Saint is always the last one on or off a transport, and quick to notice if any of them are injured. They’re always present around large groups of other Alphas, especially recruits.

The sheer amount of time they spend available is unusual, preferring the den to rest in their off hours - even sleeping there on occasion.

Then Gaz’s heat is due. A week out and he’s already feeling it descending - it’s been well over six months since his last one. His skin feels itchy, his senses on overdrive. Thirsty and hungry and generally feeling restless beneath the skin.

“Alpha,” he calls.

Saint’s eyes are on him instantly, one-sided conversation with some other, non-Pack Omega forgotten. Gaz purrs, pleased.

“I want something of yours.”

They tilt their head, a silent question.

“A shirt or something,” he specifies.

And something in their gaze flickers. Gaz isn’t sure what it means, but it definitely looks positive.

Saint brings him something better - a blanket. It’s intimate; it’s perfect. It smells incredible, if… oddly faded. From his most reserved Pack member, it means the world.

Gaz balls himself up with it in the nest he assembles over the next day and a half, until he wakes up one morning with the knowledge that his heat will l well and truly have taken hold before midday.

He puts in his notice and calls his Pack.

Saint is the last to enter his barrack, a huge bag of supplies in their arms. Not just for Gaz, but for the rest of them. No one will be leaving unless duty calls.

And it’s perfect. The best heat Gaz has ever had. Surrounded by Pack and protected by his Alpha, who stays on watch while Price and Ghost and Soap fuck him through the dregs of preheat and well into Heat proper.

Half of him purrs at his Alpha’s dedication to protecting them, to providing for them. The other half protests the Alpha’s attention being anywhere but on him.

“Alpha,” he calls. And when that only earns him Saint’s eyes and not his affection, he barks, sharper, “Alpha.”

They come to him instantly, settled in between his legs, smooth their thumbs along the glands at the base of his neck. He curls into them trilling and chirping and needing more than just social acceptability right now.

And finally, finally, a low rumble sounds through his Alpha’s chest. It’s deep and rich, hits the subharmonics in a way that has all the Omegas going still and quiet. Their voice purrs out a moment later, practically vibrating their skulls.

“Easy, Omega.”

Gaz bares his neck, whispering, “Saint.”

They lean in, breathing loud and deep, warm hands soothing an ache in his lower back. “I’m here, Kyle.”

They fuck well into sundown, Kyle so wound up that he can’t bear to be parted from Saint to even let them breathe. Any space between them is whined or growled or bitten out of existence, the ever-indulgent Alpha soothing their Omega with their body, with the newly discovered vocalizations that he just can’t get enough of.

Ghost and Price have to feed and hydrate him between rounds, working together to manage his clingy limbs and careless (but sharp) teeth. In the meantime, Soap helps to do the same for Saint, who is far more cooperative.

“How’re you still goin’?” Soap wonders, amazed, slipping bites of granola between the bars of their muzzle. Saint is sitting upright with Gaz collected against their chest, sweaty but already breathing evenly again.

Saint licks a bit of chocolate off their lip and meets his eyes easy as anything, serene for how blown out their pupils are.

“I’m your Alpha. I go until you need me to stop.”

Which just sets them all off, each taking (needing) a turn with their Alpha.

By then, their neutralizer has begun to wear off, friction and sweat and fabric thinning the chemical deodorant to nothing. The scent is intoxicating, unlike anything any of them have ever smelled before. It’s overwhelmingly Alpha, overwhelmingly good. Even Ghost and Price, rare to bend the knee to anyone, find themselves weak for that scent.

No wonder Saint keeps it on lock, it’s practically a weapon in itself, not demanding submission but expecting it. A foregone conclusion. In a social setting it would be a brutal domination, rude wouldn’t even be the right word for it.

Saint isn’t just an Alpha, they’re on the extreme end of the spectrum.

The kind that comes with counseling and desensitizing therapies. Etiquette schools and specialized doctors.

The kind of Alpha that can not only manage four chaotic Omegas, but give them what they need.

With types like Saint, Alpha isn’t just a designation, it’s a title. And the 141 is proud that it’s theirs.

[paint-the-walls-white]

I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive, settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[tojisun]

my baby swingin’ — simon (ghost) riley

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

> a bunch of snapshots of simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures.

!! suggestive - minors dni; canon divergence; no chronological order (basically a bunch of loosely-tied worldbuilding); subtle and hinted age difference; reader gets princess treatment because she deserves it so!!

: im the one who’s the most confused as to how my obsession with biker!simon started but im stringing u along anyway so pls have fun!! my inbox is open for brainworms <33

for all posts, pls click on biker!simon tag <33

part 01 - intro post; headcanons

part 02 - simon can’t wait to come home to you

part 03 - getting over your fear of riding a bike

part 04 - lap sitting (a visual); ask

part 05 - simon and your first meeting; ask // extra 01

part 06 - little donuts at the park <;33

part 07 - simon’s instagram account (includes visuals); ask

part 08 - teasin’ each other on their way home; ask; suggestive

part 09 - body worship (a visual); ask; suggestive

part 10 - getting over your fear of riding a bike sequel! (a visual); ask

part 11 - mutual desperation spilling over; smut

part 12 - burning from all these messages; smut

part 13 - scary mask!! (a visual); ask

part 14 - of prince charming and care packages

part 15 - scary ghost? yes. protective ghost? yes <;33; ask

part 16 - safe drive!; ask

part 17 - simon and your first meeting cont.; ask; smut

part 18 - fun times on his bike; ask; smut

-

extra 02 - your nephew’s new favourite adult (a visual); ask

extra 03 - biker!konig makes an appearance!!! (a visual); ask

extra 04 - smack! smack! smack! (a visual); ask

extra 05 - picking up the backpack (a visual); ask

extra 06 - you don’t use it, you lose it; ask

extra 07 - price on a harley; ask

extra 08 - helmet kiss (a visual); ask

extra 09 - ‘girls cum first’ sweater (a visual); ask; smut

extra 10 - tf141 and their shared backpack princess; ask

extra 11 - period cramps and cuddling; ask

extra 12 - of checkpoint videos & dashing men (a visual); ask

extra 13 - no backpacks allowed (a visual); ask

extra 14 - he slipped!! (a visual); ask

extra 15 - her famous luvr; ask (a visual)

extra 16 - keys and kisses; ask

extra 17 - simon announcing his girl (includes visual!); ask

extra 18 - careful now (a visual); ask

extra 19 - they’re friends??

extra 20 - pretty blue lace; ask; smut

extra 21 - dad!simon (a visual); ask

extra 22 - lil smut (a visual); ask

extra 23 - riding on the rain (a visual); ask

extra 24 - girl dad simon; ask

extra 25 - gorgeous and protective (a visual); ask

extra 26 - zip that shit up (a visual); ask | recent!

-

dear john - dbf!simon

↳ for all toxic/dbf simon pls click on dbf!simon tag!!

toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + smut

‘dear john’: cont. of toxic dad’s best friend biker!simon au; ask; angst + suggestive

mini cont of dear john; ask

dear john (but it’s john price); ask

dear john (how he fucks); smut

dear john (as illicit affairs); ask; angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origin); angst + smut

dear john (illicit affairs origins but as reader); ask; angst + suggestive

dear john (reader moving on); ask | recent!

-

subset 01 - best friend n biker!simon au; ask

subset 02 - best friend n biker!simon au cont.

subset 03 - bimbo!reader

unofficial extra - baker!simon

-

i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist

(updated: 16 march 2024)

[certifiedfreec]

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that ghost took an interest in you…

- one time you were showing him something on the computer, and he took that massive 6’4” body of his and leaned it right over your shoulder to read the screen. as if that wasn’t close enough, he rested one of his big ‘ol calloused hands on the desk beside you, effectively caging you into your seat. you could practically feel the warmth that radiated off of him when he did that. (he really likes the smell of your shampoo, by the way.)

- he watched you make your coffee one morning, memorizing your order down to the number of sugar packets you used. after that, you’d head down to make your morning cup and all the exact ingredients would mysteriously be laid out on the counter for you. he’d pick on you later about drinking coffee instead of tea, though. maybe he’ll make you a cup for you to try- back in his own office, of course ;)

- everyone in tf141 knows you’re a perfectly capable soldier, so they think it’s odd that ghost always finds ways to provide extra backup for you during missions. guarding you from danger, making sure your area is clear of threats…he can’t help but want to protect and take care of his fellow teammate, though he has a list of other ways he’d like to take care of you :’)

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that keegan took an interest in you…

- he saw your phone screen after training one day, immediately zeroing in on the artist you were listening to. later that evening he casually brings up the exact same band/person, because he’s coincidentally one of their biggest fans! maybe he’ll ask you to go to one of their shows when you’re off duty… looks like you’ve found yourself a concert buddy ;)

- he bullies you, but it’s with the best intentions. it’s more like him relentlessly nagging at you until you match his snarky energy and give him some sass back, which he loves to provoke from you. you always have the best comebacks when he uses his dry humor on you, and he thinks it’s adorable. he definitely likes to push your buttons, but he’d like to undo them even more <3

- ever since he revealed your “shared love” for your favorite artist, he sends you music recommendations for you to listen to (that will hopefully make you think of him whenever you hear them!). pay attention to the lyrics, because he might be trying to tell you something with them… :))

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that graves took an interest in you…

- if you have any snacks or candy on you, he’s nonchalantly stepping right beside you and doing that “underhand-behind-the-back” gesture for you to shake some into his palm. (sometimes he imagines that’s what your lips taste like- omg who said that???)

- he let you wear his jacket during an operation where you were in the freezing cold outside for an extensive amount of time. he watched you shiver through your orders, trying your best to be a good soldier for him :( he walked up to you and draped his shadow company jacket over your shoulders (which smelled deliciously like him) and flashed you that toothy grin. “you look like you’re ‘bout to get frostbite, soldier. take this.” (he was definitely thinking of some other ways that he could warm you up…)

- he took his time when he read through your file, and wow, it looks like your city’s professional football team rivals his. it’s the perfect way to initiate banter with you. he’ll be giving you a hard time about it for sure, and maybe he’ll make some interesting bets with you depending on how well the season’s going ;)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 + cars

SOAP is a car guy in the sense that he drives a junker manufactured the same year he was born (the significance of which, he says, speaks for itself). 

refers to the car as she and loves bringing up how sexy she is when she chugs to life. you think it's a weird flex until you realize he's not talking to you; he's talking to the car. 

often tells her he's gonna get her all fixed up as soon as he has the money.

GAZ is a car guy in the sense that he drives a sleek, sporty, low-ass car. a convertible. keeps it pristine enough that he can keep whitewall tires on his baby and they stay clean.

cream interior. all the bells and whistles because if he's gonna cruise around london when he's off-duty, he's damn sure gonna do it comfortably. 

pays to keep it protected in covered parking while he's gone on leave.

side-eyes Soap's mismatched aftermarket parts; can't help but respect his dedication.

PRICE is a car guy in the sense that he's had his since Gaz was in diapers. the thing can't possibly have any resale value anymore but it's the first and only new car he's ever bought.

uninterested in getting her fixed up because she's no ship of theseus. no sir. he fixes only what need fixing when it needs fixing. the rest is original parts. no need to fix what ain't broken and all that.

she's almost come back into vogue as a classic car. wasn't his intent, but he's glad to see so-called collectors putting respect on her name again.

GHOST is a car guy in the sense that he's a motorcycle guy.

scoffs at Soap and Gaz preening over their rides. they don't know what it is to love their rides until they've squeezed their legs around it while it purrs.

[galaxy-stardust]

💀 "TF141: Absolute Professionals" Group Chat 💀

🦅Gaz: If we got turned into animals, what would we be?

🔥Soap: I’d be a wolf.

💀Ghost: Chihuahua.

🔥Soap: Fuck off, man.

🧢Price: Gaz is a fox.

🦅Gaz: I’ll take it.

💀Ghost: Price is a grizzly bear.

🔥Soap: Big, protective, and growls when woken up. Checks out.

🦅Gaz: Ghost is a black panther.

🔥Soap: Nah, he’s a damn bat. Sleeps upside down and lurks in the shadows.

💀Ghost: You’re all idiots.

[burner141]

Love the idea of zombie apocalypse au with retired tf141

Like, they'd revert back to their military ways so quickly. Maybe even become a little more demented. And there are so many ways reader can be implemented.

Reader who was about to get eaten by a zombie, so John takes her under their wings and protects her. She almost died once, so of course, the most sensible thing to do is keep her soft, sweet self in their cabin.

Reader who they were friendly with - maybe a neighbor or a familiar store clerk - and they claim her as theirs, slowly warping their prior relationship into something unrecognizable and overwhelming.

Reader who survived on her own without anybody and fought them like a stray alley cat. Johnny would ask to keep her, and John would utilize her feralness against other survivors while keeping her purring only for (and under) them.

[cherie-doll]

:3c hiii, if it's not a bother, could you write more headcanon's for the cod men as parents? I think I might have died from cuteness overload while reading that one.

ahh ofc!! i've been wanting to write more so this is perfect, thank you <333

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents #3

ʚĭɞ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He adjusted to being a father a lot easier than he thought he would, somehow his kids are a lot easier to keep in line than the tf141

He's constantly announcing every little thing or accomplishment the kid has done, and he forces everyone to listen and they kinda have to because what else are they going to do? Say no? Wouldn't even think or dare to do that

He's just so happy to carry his chunky babies around, and loves it especially when you're feeding them, he smiles endearingly and you're like "what're you smiling for?" "I love seeing my babies growing"

Omg and imagine your babies having that same heartwarming smile he has, awwwww-

Ghost

He knew taking care of kids would be... something

But he sees how hard you work, how late you stay up trying to get the whiny baby to sleep, but he just won't stop fussing and moving and you don't want to wake Simon because he's supposed to be resting from just having come back

But he hears your tired sighs and pleading to the baby to please sleep, so he comes up behind you and gently takes the baby while telling you to go rest, that you need it

And hearing his low, smoky voice gives you such relief you almost cry because you've been sleep deprived

Soap

He taught the boys to show respect and love to you all the time, it's almost overwhelming!

Once a neighbor encountered this scene where Johnny had just gotten back from picking up the kids from school and he ran out the car yelling "Whoever gets to mom first gets to kiss and hug her!"

All three of them practically bolted inside the house and tackled you

And even if they play roughly, getting muddy and dirty they make sure to rinse off with the hose and wait before entering to dry off, they wouldn't want to ruin the effort you do to keep the house spotless, and guests who come over are always surprised at how you manage to keep the place so clean when there's two- well technically three boys with Johnny who hasn't lost his playfulness

Gaz

Can't help but imagine how Kyle would be like with his teen daughter

He loves her to death and would do anything for her, he's interested in whatever she's into and loves going along with her to go out and stuff

Especially if she's a little more on the loner side and doesn't have many friends :(, he'll throw in all his free time to make sure she gets out and has fun

And he's especially protective when someone is interested in dating her, he doesn't take kindly to them especially if he senses some underlying intentions

Closes up, clams up and his kindness and hospitality is gone, only the stone cold faced sergeant

Roach

He's never been a father before, what's he even supposed to do? The most he's taken care of is a hamster and the bug collection that's on display

Probably doesn't really hit him until you really start to show, like he's excited but constantly jumpy at any sign of pain you show, you wince? Should he get the car started? Feel a kick? The baby must be coming, right?

You've had to calm him down, tell him you appreciate his enthusiasm but that he needs to be the one to calm down, probably getting more sentimental than you are right now

Omg and the moment he saw you give birth and hold the baby he was shaking and crying, he couldn't believe he witnessed that, he's staring down at his baby girl and he's thanking you by pressing kisses to your forehead

She's definitely a daddy's girl, always sticking close to him and developing an interest for his same hobbies

Alejandro

I can see this man turning into mother the minute the child is born, like you've already given birth to his kids you've done enough now let him take over

He can cook pretty well actually and loves sneaking up out of bed to prepare the kids breakfast and surprise you by the time you wake up with breakfast in bed

Also, he has to stop his habit of swearing around the kids, most of the time it's in Spanish but your kids will still pick up on it and try using it sentences when it's certainly not appropriate

He's also telling the kids stories of when he was their age that are blown out of proportion, very common for him to exaggerate and add details just to make them gasp and believe it, thinks it's funny because they're so gullible and you're just standing there listening to his nonsense shaking your head

Rudy

He practically melted when you told him you wanted to try for a baby

He's over the moon daydreaming about it, having a mini you and him

The type to be wanting to set up for the nursery as soon as he finds out you're expecting, also he just loves doing things around the house like the malewife he is that you almost suggested he carry to term instead

He'd love a daughter and would be the one singing lullabies, cradling her little body gently in his arms as he practically twirls around the room

Just watching that angelic little face that smiles when she wakes up and sees his loving face, he's the happiest man there could ever be

Practically living life through rose-colored glasses taking care of his princesita

Phillip Graves

He was made to father children

Those great genes of him make beautiful, cute babies that get fawned over everywhere you go

Showing off his offspring like if they were his greatest life achievement

He's so proud to have you too, he's bragging how you managed to give him kids and how well you do caring for them and him <3

He loves loves buying them toys of which you constantly scold him for, they've got so many!

Also, refuses to pay for a nanny or babysitter, even for dates you to go off on he'd rather a close family friend if it's ABSOLUTELY necessary, but he's trained and educated his kids so well you two could go to a fancy dinner and they would keep still

Makarov

He's probably always thinking about having more and more kids

Like he can't ever get tired of them, once his first child was nearing teen years and his second and third were already well past their toddler stage he just wouldn't stop bringing the conversation up

Until it's past midnight and kid one will come in saying they don't feel well and ask for medicine, then kid two comes crying because they've just had a nightmare and kid three threw up and kid four made a mess and won't go to sleep-

He's constantly buying them toys when you tell him they had more fun playing with a box and bubble wrap than the expensive playset he bought them, still he doesn't mind letting his money fly when it comes to you or his kids, for that he has no limit

Just shrugs and hands the kid money when they ask for it (wouldn't that be useful?)

Keegan

He wanted one kid only and that's because according to him "kids are too much work", but he pisses you off probably more than the kid

He also gives terrible life advice, telling the kid how to get away with stuff when he thinks you're not listening but suddenly you come around the corner giving him a glare and reminding him if he keeps this up he'll be the one dealing with it because it's his fault

You're surprised your kid doesn't come back seriously injured when they're out with Keegan, not that he's reckless but he tends to show the kid to do things that they aren't exactly ready for... like those huge, sharp pliers you saw barely being held by small, tender hands, you were clutching your chest the entire time scared while Keegan told you he'd be fine, only doing some yard work

König

König as a father is such a common thought in my head, like he becomes 10x more daddy material

Just seeing him come home tired but still clean up and throw on some sweatpants to play with his toddlers who have a ton of energy

And also carry the baby who's less than a year old while sitting on the living room couch watching the others play has you going feral

Just seeing him like that makes you want to birth more babies for him, you're literally begging him to put more babies in you while he softly goes "no"

It's not that he doesn't want more but he sees how hard you work taking care of them and he doesn't want to stress you out :(

Horangi

Poor Horangi finds himself in the absolute weirdest predicaments, one of the girls lost her favorite stuffed toy, last she remembers she had been playing with it outside in the rain

Now he has to spend over an hour outside looking for it in the dark with a flashlight in hand as he searches for the damn thing because otherwise she won't go to sleep, you're inside holding her while she sobs about her plushie

After who knows how long he finds the old thing, it's covered in mud, the fur matted and not to say... foul smelling, definitely needs a good wash, so there he is inside scrubbing it and using a hair dryer because the drying machine would take too long

Until finally, he can hand it over and watch her turn in bed happily snuggling with the stuffed animal

God is it hard to be a parents but it's rewarding and so worth every moment

Nikto

This man gets drunk off the thought of having children with you despite he's always put off whenever you brought the possibility up

Still, he likes to think about it, the chubby hands reaching out for him, a soft voice calling for him, oh and how you'd look... all caring and nurturing towards the little thing

Yeah screw it he wants one or two or-

He just wants it to be his turn, his one chance at a haven

Oh and he's turned into the softest most gentlest creature that there could ever be, he'll silently observe as you feed her, just admiring this beautiful scenery like a painting

One night, Nikto insists on putting the baby to sleep, you let him while you go get ready for bed and when you come back to check on him he's singing in soft tones while placing the already sleeping baby in the crib, you lean on the doorframe careful not to make noise and just enjoy the moment

[forsinnersandsaintsalike]

Them missing the birth. TF141 + Graves

Captain John Price

The door creaked open, and you looked up, holding the tiny bundle in your arms. John stood there, his weathered face etched with

exhaustion, his eyes widening when he saw the baby. He froze, as if afraid to move closer.

"John," you whispered, your voice cracking. "You're home."

He stepped forward, dropping his bag, his hands trembling as he knelt beside you. "I missed it," he said, his voice thick with guilt. "I wasn't here for you... or them."

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers against his scruffy beard.

"You're here now. That's all that matters."

His eyes locked onto the baby, who stirred slightly in your arms. "Can I...?"

Carefully, you placed the baby in his arms. John's breath hitched as he cradled the tiny life he helped create.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, a tear slipping down his cheek. "They're perfect."

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon entered the room silently, his mask off for once, revealing a face full of emotion. He paused when he saw you, the baby bundled in a soft blanket on your chest.

"You're late," you teased, your voice tired but warm.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed his regret. "I tried to get back. I-"

"Simon," you interrupted, reaching out to take his hand. "We're okay. Come meet your son."

He hesitated before sitting beside you, his large hands hovering uncertainly over the baby. "He's so... small," Simon whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"He's been waiting for his dad," you said, guiding his hand to rest on the baby's back. Simon let out a shaky breath, his fingers tracing the tiny frame.

"I'll protect him," he vowed, his voice low and steady. "Both of you. Always."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

The front door slammed open, and Johnny's voice echoed through the house. "Lass! Where are ya?"

"In here," you called from the nursery, rocking the baby in your arms.

Johnny burst into the room, his eyes immediately locking onto you and the little one. "I missed it, didn't I?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"You did," you said softly, watching as his expression fell. "But come meet your daughter."

His face lit up, and he practically sprinted to your side, dropping to his knees. "A girl?" he whispered, his Scottish accent thick with emotion.

Carefully, you handed her over, and Johnny held her as if she were made of glass. "Look at you, wee lass," he cooed, tears streaming down his face.

"Yer da's here now. And I'll never leave again, I swear."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling as he took in the sight of you and the baby. His brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, stepping into the room.

"Kyle, don't," you said, smiling through your exhaustion. "You're here now."

He crossed the room in three long strides, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I should've been here," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt.

"You couldn't help it," you replied, guiding his hand to the baby's soft head. "She's perfect, isn't she?"

Kyle let out a soft laugh, tears finally spilling over. "She's beautiful. Just like her mum."As he held her for the first time, he whispered promises to always be there for you both, his voice filled with love and determination.

Phillip Graves

Graves walked into the house, his boots clicking softly against the hardwood floor. He found you in the living room, sitting in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms.

"Phillip," you said, relief flooding your voice.

His eyes locked onto the baby, and he froze, his usually confident demeanor faltering. "Is that...?"

"Your son," you confirmed, tears welling in your eyes.

He dropped his gear and crossed the room, crouching beside you. "I missed it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You're here now," you assured him, placing the baby in his arms. Graves stared down at his son, his hands steady despite the whirlwind of emotions in his chest. "Hey there, little man," he said softly, his Southern drawl warmer than ever. "Your dad's got you now."

He glanced up at you, his blue eyes shining. "I'll make it up to you. To both of you."

[mrsparrasblog]

Tf141 x Introducing your Boyfriend after they fucked up.

So I was thinking about a reader who kinda fell in love with her whole squad. You didn't want to.

At first, you fell in love with Johnny, the obvious choice. He was always flirting with you, calling you all these cute Scottish pet names like "hen" and "bonnie", and taking you on dates.

It was perfect until your feelings grew for the stoic, fatherly captain. He was mature, so much more mature than Johnny. He fixed your half-house when you were on leave, always checking if you were safe and making sure you drank enough. It was the perfect combination between Johnny's golden retriever behavior and his strong personality. It was okay in your books to fall in love with two men. It wasn't the first time it happened to someone, right?

You thought you were crazy when the scary lieutenant found his way into your overcrowded heart. He was like a guard dog for you, protecting you from all the creeps on base. And how couldn't you fall in love after he protected you from two men at the bar? Many men said, "I'd burn the world down for you", but the fact about Simon was he really would.

You thought you finally lost it when you were cuddling with your best friend Kyle again, like always. He grew up to be your safe space after a while. You never thought there would be more than platonic love. He was your platonic soulmate until you were pinned under him, getting fucked, with slow thrusts while he repeated over and over again how he loved you since day one. Yes, you're in a fucked up situation.

How could you approach this? After overthinking for straight months, you finally managed to tell them. "You can't love us all, that's batshit crazy," they mumbled, and god, it broke your heart as much as theirs. They never thought about a poly relationship before, but they all loved you and none of them wanted to give up their spot in your heart.

it took you several months to get over this embarrassment. The feelings never left, but you found a new boyfriend who was completely different from all of them. That was good, right? After a while, they got you to introduce your boyfriend to them after a deployment in an overpriced bar your lawyer boyfriend picked in Canary Wharf - The first mistake in their books. Of course, John fit in there with his neat whiskey but come on, this wasn't the place for you guys.

Johnny was the nicest of all of them; he at least had the courtesy to greet your boyfriend and be nice to him. You just didn't realize how he pulled as many jokes as possible, making you laugh for hours, how James couldn't. He was just nice, nothing to worry about, James, you said to him all over again.

Simon took his hand and almost broke it while shaking it, his 6'4" frame towering against your 5'6" boyfriend. He always had a grip on James, whispering in his ears, "And how is a twig like you able to protect my girl?"

By accident, your tires were slashed. "No, James, why should John have done this?" you rolled your eyes. Even worse, your boyfriend didn't know how to change a tire, so you stood there in the rain changing that damn tire while James stood under the umbrella until John came up, "Lovely, go sit in the car, I'll change it." He pulled his sleeves up, flexing his muscular arms while he fixed your problems like always. He was your husband after all, at least in his books.

Kyle hit it off when he walked towards James and whispered in his ear, "I bet you don't satisfy her, does she still taste sweeter than cinnamon there? Does she still get the whole bed soaked in squirt? Does she beg for you?" You didn't believe James when he told you Kyle said that, your Kyle, your best friend? The nicest man on earth ever.

"You're paranoid, James. I think it's better if we call it off," he accused all of your friends of things they never would even do. How could you be with someone so jealous?

"Mhm, broke up with James," you said.

"Was too boring for you, Bonnie",

"was too short for you and couldn't even throw a proper punch",

"couldn't fix a damn tire",

"you deserve someone better, not some jealous loser, what do you even want from a lawyer?"

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; going back to the coven is anything but comforting. meanwhile, the pack finally face the truth, consumed by shame and grief as they finally grasp the depth of their betrayal—and what it’s cost them.

⚠️ warnings; none

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

The trip home stretched endlessly, the hum of magic-infused machinery barely masking the heavy silence that filled the car. You sat in the back seat next to your Mother, her gaze remained fixed out the window, unyielding and distant, while Cath Palug purred softly in her lap, seemingly impervious to the tension.

Up front, König drove in complete silence, his focus locked on the road. His stillness was matched by Sybil, who had climbed into the back with you, pressing herself against your side. Her warmth and steady breaths anchored you.

The landscape shifted as the car veered off the main road, winding deeper into the countryside. The town near the coven came into view, a picture of quiet prosperity nestled among the trees. Its flourishing streets and bustling community reflected your Mother’s fierce protection and the coven’s watchful eye. People paused as the sleek black car passed, bowing deeply or offering respectful nods. Despite your Mother’s cold and exacting nature, her loyalty and strength ensured the people's safety and growth.

The car rolled through the wrought iron gates of the estate, the sprawling grounds of the coven’s domain stretching out before you. The old English-style mansion rose ahead, a commanding presence surrounded by lush gardens and shadowed paths. Across the grounds, women in training moved purposefully, their whispered conversations halting when they caught sight of the car. They too bowed deeply, their expressions a mix of admiration and caution. Others, bolder, whispered amongst themselves, their gazes darting away when you glanced toward them through the window.

As the car slowed to a stop, your other mother emerged from the grand entrance, her wheelchair gliding forward with its graceful, hand-like appendages navigating the uneven stones effortlessly. Horangi walked steadily behind her, his presence as sharp and watchful as ever. At her side, her sleek, pitch-black Borzoi, Barghest, padded with a measured elegance.

Your Mom’s face lit up at the sight of you, though her eyes quickly darted to Sybil’s slight limp and the exhaustion etched into your features. Concern softened her expression, and her lips parted to speak, but her gaze shifted to your Mother first. She extended a hand, and your Mother leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

“I missed you,” your Mom murmured softly, her hand lingering on your Mother’s cheek.

Your Mother, though ever composed and aloof, allowed the faintest softening of her features. “As did I,” she replied, her voice low and steady.

Their connection, brief but undeniable, reminded you of the rare moments when their love shone through the icy expectations that so often consumed your Mother.

Turning her attention back to you, your Mom’s warm expression returned, though concern shadowed her gaze. “You look dreadful,” she said gently, her tone laced with worry. Her eyes flicking down to Sybil. “Not just tired. Injured. Both of you.”

Barghest tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she approached Sybil. There was a moment of stillness, a silent assessment passing between the two dogs. Then, the larger Borzoi lowered her head, greeting Sybil like a mother would her pup. Sybil, though hesitant at first, leaned into the touch, her tail giving a faint, tentative wag.

Your Mother remained silent, her cool poise unshaken, though you caught the faintest flicker of tension in her jaw—a rare tell. Without a word, she turned sharply on her heel, her movements precise and deliberate as if to shield any hint of unease. Cath Palug, ever her shadow, padded gracefully beside her, the flick of her tail echoed the unspoken dismissal left behind.

Your Mom sighed, shaking her head gently. “Inside. Now,” she said, her tone firm but kind.

König stepped out of the car without a word, his quiet efficiency undisturbed as he moved to the trunk. “I’ll handle everything,” he said, his voice low and steady. It was both a reassurance and a dismissal, leaving no room for argument as he began gathering your things.

Too drained to muster much else, you nodded faintly and followed your Mom’s gesture toward the house. Her wheelchair, its enchanted appendages moving with fluid precision, moved alongside you, the faint whir of magic lacing the air. Sybil kept close, her steps tentative as she walked beside you.

The familiar halls of the mansion unfolded around you, the heavy drapes and intricate carvings exuding an air of both history and expectation. The scent of aged wood and faint herbs lingered, familiar and oppressive.

In the sunlit sitting room, your Mom gestured for you to sit. “Horangi,” she said, her voice firm, “fetch tea and something to eat. They’ve been through enough already.”

Horangi hesitated for the briefest moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he turned on his heel and disappeared toward the kitchen without a word.

As you sank into the plush chair she indicated, Sybil curled at your feet, her head resting on your ankle. Barghest lingered near the doorway, before settling herself a short distance away, her gaze never straying far.

Your Mom clicked her tongue softly, a mix of concern and affection coloring her voice. “Put your feet up, darling,” she instructed gently, and with a graceful flick of her wrist, an ottoman slid effortlessly into place in front of you, gliding as if carried on an invisible current. “You’ve had a long enough journey, and I’m not having you sit there like some tensed-up statue.”

You hesitated for a moment, but her expectant gaze left no room for argument. Sighing, you shifted slightly and rested your feet on the plush surface, instantly feeling a sense of relief from the aching tension in your legs, especially your ankle. Sybil lifted her head slightly, her gaze flicking to your Mom with quiet, watchful curiosity.

“Good,” your Mom said, her tone softening further as she leaned forward, her sharp eyes sweeping over you with maternal precision. Her hands moved deftly as she checked your ankle, her touch light yet methodical. When she saw the faint marks left behind by your injuries, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her expression quickly morphed into one of quiet pride.

“These have already begun to heal,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Quick thinking, and your technique was flawless. If nothing else, I can see you took my lessons to heart.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her obvious gloating. “I didn’t have much choice,” you replied lightly. “It was that or worse.”

“That,” she said with a knowing smile, “is exactly what I taught you. You’ve made me proud, my darling. Even your binding work on these wounds is excellent, though it’s high time they were changed.”

With practiced ease, she removed the bandages, inspecting each mark carefully before conjuring a soft glow around her hands. The warmth of her magic soothed the lingering aches as she worked. Fresh bandages appeared at her side, summoned with a flick of her fingers, and she replaced the old ones with an efficiency that spoke to years of experience.

Satisfied with her work, she turned her attention to Sybil, who watched the proceedings with quiet patience. “Now, let’s see about you,” she murmured, crouching slightly as she reached out toward her.

Sybil tilted her head, her large, intelligent eyes locking onto your Mom’s. After a moment’s hesitation, she allowed the inspection. “Remarkable resilience,” she remarked, her voice tinged with admiration. “She’s a true reflection of her master’s skill. But even she needs rest.”

Barghest lifted her head slightly at the remark, her ears flicking forward as if to assess Sybil once more before settling back down again.

With Sybil’s examination complete, your Mom nodded in satisfaction. “There we are. Now, no arguments—you’ll have tea and something to eat before I let you do anything else.”

As if on cue, Horangi returned, carrying a tray laden with steaming tea, biscuits, and small plates of fruit. His expression was as cool as he set it down on the low table before you. “Tea,” he announced curtly.

“Thank you, Horangi,” your Mom said warmly, her tone cutting through his frostiness like sunlight through mist. “We’ll manage from here.”

You poured yourself a cup, the warm aroma calming your frayed nerves as you leaned back into the chair. Sybil sniffed at the tray, her nose twitching curiously as you passed her a small piece of biscuit. When Horangi offered her another, she snorted, turning her head with a pointedly disdainful flick of her tail.

Your Mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “She’s as particular as her mistress.”

With the tea and bandages sorted, your Mom clapped her hands, signaling the end of your brief respite. Her gaze softened as it rested on you, though the warmth didn’t mask the firmness in her tone. “That’s enough for now, darling. Go to your room. It’s been prepared and left untouched since the day you left.”

The words landed with an unmistakable weight, unspoken tension crackling faintly in the air between you. For a moment, you considered saying something, but the words died on your tongue. Instead, you gave a curt nod, rising to your feet as Sybil stretched and followed close at your side. Barghest didn't move from her place, but you could feel her watching the two of you go.

The door opened before you could reach it, and there stood König, his towering presence filling the doorway. His gaze immediately dropped to you, scanning your face for any sign of distress . Still, he said nothing, but his intent was clear as he stepped aside, waiting to escort you.

“König,” you started, exhaling sharply, “I don’t need—”

“Upstairs,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Your room.”

You frowned but knew better than to argue further. He didn’t push; he simply waited, his quiet resolve enough to make you give in with a sigh. His hand hovered near your lower back, not touching but close enough to guide you as you left the sitting room.

The climb up the grand staircase was heavier than it should have been. As you ascended, the apprentices of the coven—a mix of young women in training and those tending to the estate—moved about their tasks. Some bowed their heads respectfully, their gazes averted as they murmured greetings. Others, less acquainted with you, whispered amongst themselves, their curiosity poorly hidden.

“Is that her?” one murmured, her voice barely audible but sharp enough to reach your ears. “The young lady who ran away?”

“She is,” another replied, her tone hushed with a mix of awe and skepticism. “The heir.”

The words pricked at your composure, but you forced your expression to remain neutral, your stride steady. König, however, shot them a sharp glance over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes silencing the whispers instantly. His imposing presence alone was enough to scatter their murmurs, leaving only the faint shuffle of their footsteps.

“You didn't have to—” you started again, but König interrupted with a quiet, unyielding tone. “I do.”

When you reached your room, he stepped ahead of you, opening the door with a slow push. The air inside was still and heavy, thick with the weight of time passed. Everything was exactly as you’d left it—the furniture untouched, the books neatly stacked, and the faint scent of your perfume lingering as though it had waited for you to return.

Sybil padded inside first, hopping onto the bed and curling up in its center with an air of practiced ease, as if reclaiming her territory. You lingered in the doorway, your gaze sweeping the room. What should have been comforting instead felt stifling, the untouched state of the room more of a reminder than a reprieve.

König stepped aside to let you enter fully, his eyes following your every movement. “It’s the same,” he said softly, almost as though the words were for himself.

“It’s suffocating,” you admitted quietly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk. The room, with all its familiarity, felt like a cage—one you’d thought you’d escaped.

König frowned slightly but said nothing, his expression under his mask unreadable as always. After a moment, he reached down and gently picked up your bag from where he’d set it near the doorway, placing it on the bed beside Sybil.

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” he said finally, his tone softer than before. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you as if searching for something, but then he gave a small nod. “I’ll be close if you need anything.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, his heavy steps retreating down the hall. You sighed, closing the door behind him, and leaned back against it. The stillness of the room pressed down on you, and though Sybil’s steady presence was a comfort, the weight of the past seemed to close in.

Crossing to the window, you pushed it open, letting the cool evening air sweep into the room. It helped—if only a little.

As you moved around the room, a soft knock came at the door. Sybil, ever vigilant, lifted her head from her paws, her ears perking. Before you could say anything, the door creaked open, revealing a young girl you didn’t recognize. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, her wide eyes hesitant as she stepped inside, balancing a neatly folded pile of clothes in her arms.

“These are for you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a nervous edge. “Lady Le Fay picked them out herself.”

Your gaze flicked to the clothes—exquisitely made, as always. Their elegance spoke of your Mother’s impeccable standards, her expectations woven into every stitch. You nodded, a simple acknowledgment, and reached for the garments, but the girl hesitated, her hands tightening on the fabric for just a moment before releasing it.

“I’ll help you,” she offered quickly, setting the pile down on the bed. She busied herself with smoothing the wrinkles, her nervous energy filling the room. As she worked, she glanced up at you, her expression uncertain. “I—I know it’s not my place, but… I wanted to say something.”

You arched a brow, motioning for her to continue as you picked up the blouse, the material cool against your fingertips.

“I think… what you did—leaving, I mean—was brave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words hung in the air, heavy with risk. “I know most of the others don’t see it that way, but I do.”

Her admission caught you off guard. You paused, meeting her gaze, and she flushed under your scrutiny, her hands wringing nervously. “I just think that… if more of us thought like you, maybe this place wouldn’t feel so—” She hesitated, her words catching on the edge of something unspoken. “So oppressive.”

A bitter smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to suppress it. “Oppressive,” you repeated softly, the word tasting both foreign and familiar on your tongue.

The girl straightened, her expression shifting as if she regretted her honesty. “Not that I’m ungrateful,” she added quickly. “Our lives are good. Better than most. It’s just…” She trailed off, shaking her head as if the rest of the sentence was too dangerous to utter.

You turned toward her fully, folding the blouse carefully in your hands. “You’re not wrong,” you said after a beat. “But you’re also not ready to say it out loud. Not here.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. Instead, she nodded, a faint look of understanding passing over her features. “Thank you,” she whispered, dipping her head respectfully. “I’ll leave you to finish.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, the door clicking softly behind her. You stared at the closed door for a moment, the tension in your chest knotting tighter. Sybil padded closer, her head nudging your leg.

“Brave,” you murmured to yourself as you began dressing, the word echoing in your mind. It wasn’t how you’d ever seen it. Foolish, reckless, selfish—all those had been easier to accept. But brave? It felt foreign, like a coat you weren’t sure how to wear.

As you fastened the final button, Sybil huffed softly. You knelt to scratch behind her ears, her steady gaze meeting yours as if she, too, approved of the sentiment. “Maybe,” you said quietly, “just maybe.”

. . .

The silence after Alejandro and Rudy’s revelations was suffocating, a tangible weight pressing down on the room. Laswell had gone upstairs to deal with Leah, leaving the pack to sit with the unbearable truth laid out before them.

At the centre of the table sat the nail, sealed in a small glass flask. It was a stark reminder of everything they had ignored, every warning they had missed. Alejandro and Rudy had placed it there when they began their explanation, a silent indictment of the pack’s failure to see what had been festering under their noses.

Price sat at the head of the table, his expression was unreadable, but the lines around his mouth and the set of his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. He’d barely spoken during their explanation, his hand resting heavily on the table, fingers occasionally twitching as if itching to grip something—anything.

Gaz sat at the table, his face buried in his hands, silent tears slipping through his fingers. His knee, usually bouncing with nervous energy, was still for once, the tension in his body radiating a quiet devastation. The guilt tore through him like claws—how had they let it get this far? How had they hurt you so deeply, so irreparably?

Johnny, unable to bear it, had bolted from the room. His overgrown hair whipped behind him as he fled, his footsteps heavy and uneven. The door slammed somewhere in the distance, and they all knew he was headed back to the woods, a place he’d always gone to hide when the world became too much.

Price’s gaze moved to Ghost, who hadn’t uttered a word since the conversation began. “Simon,” he said, his voice firm but quieter.

Ghost didn’t move. His hands were still planted on the table, his head bowed, his broad shoulders tense. Price’s tone softened, though the weight of his words remained. “You’ve got to say something. Anything.”

Still, he said nothing, his mind an unrelenting whirlwind of fragmented memories, half-formed regrets, and the crushing realisation of what he’d done. He’d been the one who brought Leah into their lives. But worst of all, he’d hurt you. Attacked you and Sybil.

The reality had settled over him like a lead cloak, immobilising him.

Alejandro, standing by the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed. “What’s the point of talking? He knows what he did.” His sharp gaze cut to Price. “But don’t think for a second that any of you are off the hook. You all failed her.”

“Enough,” Price said sharply, his tone commanding. “We know. Don’t you think we bloody know?”

Alejandro smirked coldly, his gaze unwavering. “Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.”

Rudy, standing nearby, placed a calming hand on Alejandro’s arm. “Ale, we’ve said what we came to say. Let them deal with it.”

“Fine,” he muttered, but his eyes burned with disdain as he looked at them.

Gaz swallowed hard, “But who… who did this? Who’s responsible?”

Alejandro shrugged, brow furrowed. “We don’t know exactly, yet at least. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing.”

Price exhaled heavily, his hand running over his face as if trying to push back the weight of the truth. “You’re saying this was all to isolate her?”

Rudy nodded solemnly. “That’s how these curses work. They isolate, divide, and weaken. She was the target from the start. You? You were just tools. Puppets.”

Alejandro crossed his arms, his gaze hard. “So don’t sit here wallowing in your own self-pity. Whatever guilt you’re feeling, it’s deserved. But the real question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Gaz let out a choked sound. “How… how do we fix this? How do we even begin to fix this?”

Price stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he walked to the window. His broad shoulders were rigid, as he stared out at the darkening horizon. “For now,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute, “we leave her alone. Like I said, we need to fix ourselves first, we have no right to even think about going after her.”

Alejandro and Rudy exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Rudy sighed, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “We’ll keep looking,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the broken pack. “Whoever’s responsible for this won’t get away with it. When we know, we’ll keep you posted.”

Alejandro gave a firm nod, his expression unyielding. “But don’t expect miracles from us,” he added sharply.

They turned toward the door, the weight of their words settling like ash in the room. Rudy paused briefly, glancing back at the pack with a flicker of hesitation. But before they could leave, Ghost finally spoke.

His voice was low, gravelly, like the sound of rocks grinding together. “Is she… okay?”

Alejandro stopped, his hand resting on the doorframe. Rudy looked at him, eyebrows furrowing, but Alejandro didn’t move.

“You should know the answer to that, shouldn’t you?” he said flatly. “You know her best.”

Ghost stayed silent, his head bowing ever so slightly. Deep down, he already knew. The part of him that loved you with every fiber of his being—despite feeling unworthy of it—knew that you were okay, wherever you were. But that knowledge didn’t ease the hollow ache inside him.

With that, the front door closed with a heavy thud, leaving the pack alone once again.

Price stood at the window, unmoving, the faint glow of his nth cigar's ember casting a dim light in the darkening room. His shoulders were tense, the weight of his failures settling heavily on him, but his voice was steady when he finally spoke.

“Get it together,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. “We’ve all failed her. But if she’s still out there, we owe it to her to fix this.”

Ghost remained at the table, his eyes fixed on the cursed nail. The silence that followed was more damning than anything that had been said.

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[callsignpxnguin]

TF141 with their Pregnant Partners

I’d say it’s pretty obvious already, but Price would treat you like a fucking queen the minute he found out. Undressing? He’ll do it for you — warm, calloused hands ravishing your body in the process. Making breakfast? Sit down, he already bought bacon and eggs last night, and found a new recipe online he wanted to try out for you. Walking? No, he’ll carry you. What else were you expecting? You’re pregnant, and carrying his very own child, you need to be pampered.

Ghost would show you a yandere-type of affection. He won’t talk about it much, but you’ll notice that ever since you broke the news he was definitely more physical. A hand on your stomach to keep you against him at all times, a sudden desire to rest his head on your chest, and then silent acts of service. Buying you new pregnancy clothes, always stocking the fridge with your cravings, and just doing everything he can possible do without having to vocalise anything. Because that’s just how he is.

Soap will address the baby in literally anything he does. ‘How’s my little one doing, hmm?’, ‘Not giving mum too much trouble, yeah?’, and ‘Just you want until you can speak, I’m teachin’ you everything about Scotland there is to know’ are all phrases that are fondly told to your stomach constantly. He’ll also show you off to the rest of the force constantly because of how insanely proud he is of you. One time, though, he was messing around with you and accidentally made you cry, so his jokes and pranks are put on hold for the time being until you feel better and your hormones have calmed down because he felt so bad.

Gaz doesn’t really know how to properly take care of you, but tries his hardest anyway. He absolutely has one of those chef’s hats/aprons saying ‘World’s Best Dad’, and the most eager out of all of them to be a dad. He goes in the complete opposite direction from Price and actually listens to your request to not be treated like glass, but of course he instinctually becomes a bit more protective, and will get nervous if you ever do something strenuous — ‘Just be careful, yeah? Real careful…’