#task force x oc

[drenix004]

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐘━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141

❝𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲︙She was an odd one, as was her obsession with daisies. But, that made her unique in the eyes of the herd… she became the treasure of TF 141.

warnings: mention of alcohol, drugs, death, obsession, among others, if you are not comfortable, don't read it !

rating: 18+

pairings: Task Force 141, Köning y Horangi x Oc female.

Summary: the hunt for jewels had begun, so Laswell decides to pass her off as a human and send her to the British military base under the command of a colleague, all this without him knowing her true identity to protect her (sorry, I don't know how to summarize).

¡English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me.!

wattapad -> here

INTRO | CH 1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4

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A tense silence filled the air as they watched the CIA operative, a colleague of their captain for years, through the screen. The woman had initiated a video call to discuss the new team member, which had made them nervous ever since they found out she was human and not a hybrid or monster.

For Ghost, this posed a problem that would affect the team in upcoming missions. Moreover, she was an outsider, and years of betrayal had made him deeply distrustful and more cautious than ever. Whenever they allied with others, he requested their files and scrutinized them thoroughly before gaining more information.

The matter of coexistence between hybrids, monsters, and humans remained complicated. Despite their high ranks in the military, they still faced looks of disdain, disgust, hatred, and cruel words for not being entirely human. Even though humans were cruel and ruthless, they treated them as the only beasts in their hypocrisy.

Kate sighed for the tenth time in what had been just an hour-long meeting.

"I understand you may have doubts and even rejection toward this new addition," Kate said, staring directly at Ghost through the camera, "but she is necessary this time. She'll be a great addition to the team."

"She’s human," the tallest one interjected, his voice slightly muffled by the balaclava. "She’ll only bring trouble."

"She won’t cause you any problems; you have my word." Laswell locked eyes with Price, the man who had remained silent. He had already discussed things with the woman privately and was now letting his pack weigh in. "She’s not just any human. She’ll help you, and she might even teach you a few things."

"Like what?" asked the Scot.

That was the cue for Price to step in, setting an open folder on the table. The five men moved closer to take a look. Ghost was the first to reach it, despite being farther from the table.

"She’s given permission for us to see the first two pages of her file." Price’s voice was calm, as always. "She’ll be supporting us in the medical field." He handed one page to Ghost while the other went to the only dark-skinned member of the group. "She’s a combat medic, specializing in emergency medical-surgical care."

"Aeris Williams, no photo," Soap mentioned, standing next to Ghost. The others crowded around to see the first page.

"It’s for her safety," Laswell replied, "and she’s worked for several private military contractors." Through the camera, they could see the woman drumming her fingers on the table. Price noticed she was nervous.

"She’s worked with the competition, Laswell," Gaz pointed out upon seeing KorTac’s name. "What assurance do we have that she won’t leak information about us?"

"She’s a professional, and as her file shows, she’s worked with more than just that contractor. If she’d leaked information, she would’ve been blacklisted and imprisoned for breaching contractual terms by now," the woman defended her. "She’s highly qualified to join the team."

"It also says she worked with the ghosts. That’s impossible." Ghost tossed the page back onto the table. Price pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it with fire that flared from deep in his throat. The attitude he was most concerned about was Simon’s.

"It’s true," the captain answered on behalf of Laswell, "and not just as a medic, but also as a soldier. She’s participated in counter-terrorist operations, rescue missions, infiltration, and reconnaissance; she’s highly experienced on the battlefield."

"She’s a veteran," Laswell added. "And as hard as it may be to believe, she’s even more experienced than Price." The men looked at their captain, who nodded as he took another drag from his cigar. "You could learn a thing or two from her, if you’re willing. And... there’s something about her that you might like." Price smiled, knowing what was coming.

"What’s that?" Gaz placed the other page back on the table, his black wings stretching slightly behind his back.

"She worked with the Shadows under Graves’ command." The room, except for Price and Kate, erupted in growls at the mention of the man they considered scum.

"She worked with that bastard? How could that please us?" Alejandro’s thick Mexican accent came through as he scowled at the mention of the man. Of them all, and especially the two Mexicans, Alejandro harbored the most resentment toward Phillip Graves. After all, the man had taken his base and his men during their time in Las Almas several years ago.

"That’s not the best part." Price approached the table with the cigar in his mouth, slipping the pages back into the folder. "There’s a very good reason why there’s no information in her file about working with the Shadows."

Soap raised an eyebrow, as did Alejandro. The men watched as a smile formed on their captain’s face and on the woman’s face through the screen.

"The reason is, she almost beat Graves to death with her bare fists." Surprise quickly spread across the faces of the group. Alejandro was the first to laugh, wearing his typical smile as his shoulders shook slightly from the laughter.

He was followed by Rodolfo, who chuckled lightly.

Gaz had his head tilted slightly, a small smile on his lips. Soap mirrored the expression, while Ghost remained silent.

"What was her excuse?" Rodolfo asked with curiosity after he stopped laughing.

Kate shrugged slightly before replying.

"She simply said he was an idiot."

"That’s a solid argument," Gaz commented.

"I’m already starting to like her," Soap said, flicking his tail.

"So, the lady almost killed him," Alejandro murmured beside Rodolfo. "Guess we should give her a chance, then."

Ghost looked at his pack before sighing.

"I’ll keep an eye on her."

"I appreciate your willingness," Kate clasped her hands on the desk. "Now, I’ll give you some recommendations to keep in mind for your safety."

●❯────────────────❮●

"We'll arrive in five minutes, Doc," the pilot announced over the communicators. "It was a pleasure flying with you."

She smiled as she took off her tactical helmet, just like Kamli and her other companion.

"Likewise, Jack. But this is more of a see you later than a goodbye," she replied before cutting off communication again. "Do you think the captain will be offended for not arriving yesterday?" She looked at the tallest of the three.

Kamli took off his helmet like she did, letting out a sigh.

"I don't think so. He knows beforehand that sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Besides, Laswell informed him we would be delayed." His piercing eyes landed on her. "Don't worry about the minor details. There are other things to be concerned about."

"Kamli is right," interjected the other accompanying them, a hybrid of Arctic hare; he was her assistant. "You should save your energy for the problems that exist at that base on a medical level; the anomalies in those records are troubling, boss."

She sighed as she saw the enormous base, spotting several people waiting in the landing area.

"Alright, let's do this."

The helicopter began its descent while the three prepared themselves. Kamli adjusted his gloves, she pulled her black Buff up to her nose, and her assistant grabbed the straps of one of the four military deployment bags they had brought, excluding the huge 25-kilogram first aid kit.

They felt evaluative gazes on them, especially on her and Kamli due to their height. They unbuckled their seatbelts and descended slightly hunched over as a precaution while the blades continued spinning powerfully.

She moved to the front and signaled to Jack to take off again.

Then she turned and made eye contact with the man in the hat and beard, who smiled politely at her. Kate had mentioned his appearance before they left.

"You must be Captain Price, right?" She approached the man and shook his hand. The scaly tail swayed slowly, but she held back her questions. "Aeris Williams," she introduced herself, "but I prefer to be called Harper."

Kamli and her assistant also approached, positioning themselves to her left and right.

Price nodded.

"Captain John Price." The man looked at her before addressing the two companions behind her. "Laswell mentioned that only two of you were coming."

From his tone, Aeris understood she needed to clarify things. Price was still an alpha, and as such, he liked to know who was coming in and out of his base. The arrival of another male without prior notice could be seen as an invasion of his territory.

Kamli was also an alpha, which could trigger an internal struggle to prove who had power over whom if they didn't communicate properly.

"I apologize for the last-minute surprise, Captain. We come from a small mission," she responded calmly. "The big guy next to me is Kamli Sharma, my partner in operations and missions." Kamli nodded at those present, looking at them neutrally with no signs of confrontation. "And he is Jim Parker, my right hand."

Parker also nodded; the man had noticed the gazes on his non-human limbs and ears but ignored them, as they merely indicated curiosity.

"No problem," Price stepped aside, revealing four members of his pack. "This is Gaz." The dark-skinned man stepped forward and shook her hand while slightly stretching his black wings; from the type and color of his wings, she deduced he was a hybrid of raven or harpy.

"Soap," the lighter-eyed one introduced himself with a smile; his accent revealed he was Scottish. His enthusiastic eyes and tail wagging behind him made it clear he was a wolf. "Two of us are missing who couldn't come; they'll show up later." He nodded towards the man in the skull-patterned balaclava. "And he is Ghost."

The one in the mask didn’t respond; his gaze was fixed on Kamli. The height difference between the two was evident, with Kamli being the taller at two meters.

Unlike the others, Ghost showed no indication of what kind of hybrid or monster he was.

"Kamli." His warning tone was enough to make the man stop staring him straight in the eyes.

The others had noticed the small confrontation between the two hybrids, so Price intervened.

"I'll give you a brief tour if you're not too tired." Aeris smiled through her buff.

"We're fine, Captain." She grabbed the first aid kit and slung it on her back before taking one of the bags, while Kamli grabbed the two remaining ones. "We can hold out a bit longer."

"Alright." Price turned halfway and began the tour, allowing Aeris to stay at his side and not behind him. That was a good sign; it meant he recognized her as an equal. "This base is larger than the others since we have more resources; I can give you a map while you get accustomed."

The base was undoubtedly big, just as Price had said, and the map would be useful for orientation in the first few days. Given her role as a combat medic, Aeris had certain privileges, such as the right to a room with its own bathroom, away from the dormitories for greater privacy, which she appreciated. She was also assigned an office at Kate's request for the tedious paperwork related to the anomalies in the medical processes of the base.

It was impressive that, despite being completely adapted for hybrids and monsters, there were more humans.

As they walked through the hallways and different recreation rooms, Aeris noticed small packs formed, all being cautious as they passed. She even observed some injured individuals with poorly placed bandages, suggesting that medical care for the non-humans was, at best, lacking in certain aspects.

She had a lot of work to do, but at least she wouldn't be bored.

However, she was sure she would face resistance from the medical staff if more of her suspicions turned out to be true, much to her dismay.

They returned to their room under the curious gaze of those present at seeing the three staying in the same space. Their excuse was that they had things to discuss, so the pack said no more, just nodded, and left them alone.

"They noticed your behavior, didn't they?"

"They must have a very poor relationship with the medical area; their bandages are poorly placed, and even one is not suitable for the type of injury," Jim remarked. "I think they did it themselves; someone trained wouldn't make such simple mistakes."

"It's clear they aren't being treated according to protocol," Kamli growled, "and yet, the miserable ones dare to ask for raises."

"Laswell suspects they are also smuggling medications, and I think so too," Aeris sighed as she took off her tactical vest. "For now, it would be better to rest, especially you; tomorrow you must return to the field." She lightly tapped the bed for them to climb up. That night, the three would sleep in the same bed; it was a custom they had adopted upon arriving in new places, as the protective instincts of the two hybrids were at their highest during the first two days.

●❯────────────────❮●

Let's start this adventure!

I'm sorry if there are spelling mistakes, I'm not good at English, but I do my best.

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likes and reblogs are very appreciated by this author !

[ksiondzkanexkiii]

MAYBE YOU'RE NOT A BAD PERSON | JOHN PRICE

Next chapter (16)

You can also find the story on Wattpad and Neobook

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

- Jinx get up - The captain's voice rang out from behind the door and his knuckles rattled against the wood of the door as he knocked gently on the door.

Jinx merely rolled over onto her other side hidden under the thick duvet she could still feel how cold she was. Cold chills still coursed through her body and her nose? She couldn't breathe, her runny nose didn't allow her to do so as much as she wanted to breathe through her nose she couldn't, she had to breathe through her mouth giving out wheezing breaths. Her forehead was burning, as were the rest of her muscles, she had no strength to stand up.

Her eyes also suffered they were swollen from crying and bloodshot, the bags under her eyes only told boisterously how much she had not slept that night - Jinx! - Cried the captain in the depths of the house. Most likely he was already calling from the kitchen, because she could smell the toast and hear his footsteps walking around the kitchen

She sighed she didn't have the strength to lift herself up to even sit down. Let alone to walk.

She forced every muscle in her body to sit up on the bed and put her legs down freely. However, the pain in her feet caused her to take a quick look back at her feet. Fucking splinters she thought she had successfully avoided them, but in her frantic running she must have bumped into a few. Positioned in such a way that walking would be uncomfortable

But she had to hide it

And then pull it out when she was in the bathroom

She hurried to the wardrobe, sank down on it with a quiet hiss. She was already getting tired her muscles were burning from the movement and her coughing was causing her to almost spit out her lungs, but it felt like she had spit out her lungs along with her heart, which was now beating like she had run a fucking marathon.

And she had only taken 5 steps.

And it was only the beginning of a long day

And she had already had enough

She had had enough

She groaned under her breath as she tried to pull herself together and scramble to move towards the kitchen. Her legs were staggering and her eyes could barely see through their congestion and swelling they were constantly tearing up demanding that Jinx close her eyes and drift off into dreamland where she would feel no pain.

- Jinx! - called out once again the Captain could already sense his slight annoyance that the teenager had not yet got up as scheduled and gone downstairs. Today was Saturday she had free from school, but she still didn't have free to relax like other teenagers she couldn't go to parties and have fun

Even if she could. She didn't get an invitation

- 'I'm coming... I'm coming,' Jinx hoarse quietly, her throat betraying her that something was wrong, because as she sat down at the table she could already sense Price's burning gaze watching her as she sat down at the table as if nothing had happened. But he knew better than she did

- Jinx? - He asked putting the pans down and putting his hands on his hips as he raised his eyebrows. Jinx merely did not look at him she avoided his gaze as if he could kill her with that look

Because he could

She put the eggs on her plate pretending that she was fine and that Price was just having a prediction

Because she has

He doesn't.

She raised her eyes only to meet his stern gaze. She immediately regretted it, her gaze dropping to the toast she had in her hand and spread with butter she continued to feel his gaze - Yes? - she finally spoke, but quietly to hide how much her throat was crying out for medicine to ease the pain, every swallow hurt her

Even eating

She had irritated her throat so much

In fact her whole body

- What's wrong with you? - He sat down in front of her and so had to wait for the toast on the other side to heat up so he could sit down for a while. His gaze studied Jinx seeing how miserable she looked he only fidgeted he knew the teenage girl wouldn't admit that she was in pain and that she was ill but he silently hoped she would tell him

- Nothing - she muttered

- If you're okay, you can call me Jesus - he sneered looking to the side shaking his head. She was supposed to be honest with him and she isn't and he didn't know how to bring her honesty to the surface I sensed how much she doesn't trust him and treats him harshly. She treats him the way she treated the guards, which is to blandly do what she has to do and walk away.

And yet he wanted that honesty

For which he worked badly

- I'm just tired," muttered the teenager after a moment, looking down at her hands. Price studied her with his eyes her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red and drops of sweat were on her forehead as if she had run a marathon in a snowstorm she was still shivering from the cold

- First of all, don't mumble under your breath - he reprimanded her gently - Secondly - he got up from the chair and with the back of his hand rubbed her forehead checking her temperature. Her forehead was burning as if it was a bonfire no wonder she was shivering from the cold and her forehead had sweat on it she was sick, but she would not admit it.

- This is not how tiredness manifests itself - he sighed and his voice continued to demand water as did hers, he was silent for a moment looking at her. She continued to avoid his gaze - And you are not looking at me - he whined

- I'm fine - she defended herself by stifling a cough that almost caused her to spit out her lungs

- Is that so? The cough says otherwise - giggled Price dryly, walking over to the pan again to flip the bread and egg over

- 'Are you going to admit it or are you going to keep playing that you're fine? - sneered Price looking over his shoulder at her with a raised eyebrow

She knew she was on the losing end. She merely sighed

- Okay. fine. Fine with you. - she muttered exasperatedly - I feel like shit and I probably look like shit - she said

- Immediately better - smiled Price sending her that familiar , "v" smile of his she wanted to despise that smile and yet her spirit wanted to reciprocate the smile as if her mind wanted to stop treating him like an enemy or a guard. But she couldn't

She had vowed her fidelity and loyalty to someone else for them had to be a friend for the rest of her life. Even if she didn't want it, she could only feel the ink on her back scorching her skin those nasty snakes that wriggled under her skin reminding her who she belonged to

And who better not to oppose

Even if they think you are already dead

Would they even care?

Probably not, they took her from Jack like she was a fucking rag doll and dragged her to a building she prayed she wouldn't find only then did she regain her freedom from her , "parents" although she would never call them that.

Did she ever have parents?

No.

Will that change?

Probably not.

She only remembered being locked in a room every time she panicked or something went wrong, psychological abuse was common then, she wanted to escape from it so badly, but she was scared herself. If Jack had been there she probably would have escaped after they appointed her to the cartel she didn't want that so badly, she wanted to live with Jack who at the time was like an older brother to her, a helper who would help her with the fears that haunted her every night at all hours.

She still felt like she was locked in that basement and her mother was chained to the wall, only the dilapidated teddy bear she still has and a few blocks kept her from being bored, but she still remembers his touch on her skin and how her mother screamed for him to stop as her red hair constantly covered her face including the green eyes that Jinx did not inherit from her.

- Jinx! - cried Price again in exasperation, she jumped slightly in her seat she felt the metal of his leg digging into her skin she squeezed it so hard she had marks in the middle of her palm from it. All she could do was curse herself under her breath - You didn't listen to me - he accused her by crossing his arms over his chest raising his eyebrow even more. How can a man raise his eyebrows so high?

- Perhaps I wasn't listening to you - muttered Jinx again, already eating her cold toast. She didn't know how many minutes she had been out of earshot and to what extent she had drifted off into the depths of her thoughts, she looked at Price his blue eyes expressed slight annoyance at the fact that she wasn't listening it was obvious, but the puzzlement in his eyes appeared even more so. The more he tried to understand her the more lost he became - But what were you saying? - she blinked several times looking at him

Price only sighed - I said I'd let you off today but now I wonder if it's the right decision - He said groggily looking at her turning his head to the side, he could see something was going through Jinx's head she was still looking at the tea cup most likely noticing her reflections he saw the death grip apply on the poor knife that did nothing to her

She looked as if she was replaying something with her head

Something she shouldn't be replaying

And she shouldn't be reliving

- What's the matter kid? - Said Price, already quieter, watching her. Her blue eyes dropped to the food and then to her hands as if she was looking for an answer to his question

- Nothing. - she growled moving away from the table in a quick movement, slightly losing her balance the quick movement made her head spin - I'm going to bed - she said and her steps quickly directed her towards her room. She didn't even care that her feet hurt because of the splinters driven deep into her feet she wouldn't even think of asking Price to help pull them out.

She would have managed on her own

As always

All by herself

And all she had to do was ask....

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

She lay deeply buried under the duvet, her body sweating and the constant rains from the cold began to irritate her. She kept looking at the window, she wanted to leave the flat and go to that deserted house again

But she couldn't

Just as she couldn't then, she couldn't now. Even if she had escaped then and the consequences had not yet befallen her it was only a matter of time until they came, but maybe Price would never know that she had escaped but had returned.

It had been a long time since the morning, Price hadn't entered her room since then even to fetch medicine or tea. Apparently he has decided that I don't need them, since she claims to be healthy

Because she is healthy

A cough ripped her lungs from her chest and her throat cried out for help begging for some drops of water to fall on the injured tissue in her throat. All she could think about was whether the cartel had discovered she was alive after all? Did her escape from the cartel fail and now they know she is London and they are looking for her?

Is she becoming paranoid?

There were so many unknowns and no answer she could find. The emptiness in her head did not help more it made life more miserable than necessary

She sat up on the bed causing the duvet to roll off her, her eyes barely conscious she could barely see out of her eyes she was tired and the swelling from her eyes still hadn't gone down. She got out of bed to go to the bathroom she had to keep limping to keep the splinters in her feet from digging in deeper than necessary.

She closed the bathroom door her eyes obsessively avoided the mirror she was afraid to look at them.

She was afraid she would see them again just as she had then in that abandoned house

She reached for the tweezers sat on the toilet flap putting one of her feet on her knee so she could see the splinters, she had to bite her tongue to keep from hissing in pain at each piece of wood she pulled out from under her skin. Small drops of blood appeared where the wood had been impaled

Jinx

A voice called out right next to her ear causing her to jump up. She looked around the bathroom she was alone it was obvious, but she heard that voice that familiar Spanish accent slightly her muscles tensed and her gaze surveyed the bathroom

She was alone

- Calm down stupid - she growled quietly to herself almost silently, she didn't want to alarm Price that something was going on. It was unlikely he knew she was in the bathroom at least now

She concentrated again on her feet to draw in the wood that wanted so badly to dig deeper into her skin, but she wouldn't allow it with some of the splinters she had to use more force through it with her fist hitting her thigh. At the same time it hurt her foot at the same time it tickled her

- Stupid tickling - she whined under her breath and her voice was distorted by the sickness that blocked her nose and hurt her throat.

She pulled fifteen fucking splinters out of one foot, I guess she really wasn't careful how she put her feet when she ran out of the abandoned building. She should have been more careful

Stupid

The voice rang out again causing her to jump up in her seat again, she got up from the toilet to look behind her. She could see her reflection in the tiles on the blank wall, which was only half filled with light blue tiles and the rest of the wall was painted white. Her muscles stiffened so much that she was afraid to take any step because it would herald a fall

Jinx!

A voice shouted straight from the mirror, she jumped up again in her seat in fear she looked at the mirror. This was a mistake, she saw her reflection but behind her were figures her imagination ran wild and the blood in her veins froze and her breathing which was already weak died

To her right stood a woman she barely remembered, but only the red hair the same as Jinx's told her who she was....

Those green eyes looking at her through the reflection of the mirror judging, criticising, demeaning. The woman's lean body malnourished, the blood on her wrists through the handcuffs with which she was always chained to the wall clothes frayed, dirty, with many holes barely covering her most intimate parts

- Why didn't you help me? - you watched me rot," the woman accused, Jinx opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She could only feel her lungs clamouring for a new portion of oxygen, but she couldn't get anything out of herself, couldn't do anything. Even breathing at the moment was causing her so much trouble

- I couldn't," Jinx barely squeezed out, her eyes glazing over under the threat of tears coming out

- Of course you couldn't you're too weak for that - Said an American voice, the woman turned into the man she wanted to forget but still haunted her mind. Those blonde hair pulled back the blue eyes that Jinx had inherited and she felt like scratching them out of her eye sockets to get rid of them.

Straight as ever and the officer's uniform fitted his muscular body perfectly, a uniform that was tainted with sins he'd never answer for. And he won't answer, justice is always on his side Jinx had no right to send him behind bars even if she wanted to

- You should have stayed there and accepted the fate you were born with - he croaked out his voice was broken from years of smoking cigarettes just like Price's only the Captain had a more pleasant maybe even friendlier voice - Ungrateful - he accused her

- I couldn't sit in this shit any longer - Jinx hissed out quietly, her hands clenched tightly into fists and her nails were digging into the middle of her palms probably already creating wounds there because of such a tight squeeze. She could almost strangle someone so tightly she clenched her fists

- 'You're crying like a crybaby,' the man accused, continuing with his hands behind his back, 'But I love to see you underneath me and crying,' he growled, raising his hand to touch the bare skin on her neck, Jinx closed her eyelids tightly afraid of his touch and her breath trembled as her hands tried obsessively to calm her down. Yet the touch didn't come she didn't feel those calloused hands on her she didn't feel them anywhere she opened one eye to see what was happening

She opened her eyes to meet the same brown eyes that had given her a feeling of warmth when she was in the biggest swamp and in the greatest darkness with no light of rescue - Why did you leave me? - the same Spanish accent rang out

- Jack - muttered the teenage girl looking at the same dishevelled brown hair one could say almost black - I - she started to speak but her voice broke off the lump in her throat did not allow her to speak

- Don't cry girl - This time the woman who also gave her warmth even if she was sometimes mean to her spoke up - Crying won't achieve anything - she went on and her black hair reached almost to her shoulders, but it was curled upwards to wrap her chin which looked as if she had hair slightly below her ear - You are stronger than all this - She came closer to her looking at the shorter girl

Brown eyes that looked at her with the same gleam as always rigorous but also with adoration - El sol. Mi querido sol* you know I don't like these tears - whispered the woman putting her hand on her shoulder, she felt the same warmth she let out a shuddering breath and her eyes didn't tear away from the mirror fearing that if she just blinked the woman would disappear

And her eyes demanded a wink

The woman smiled softly as she grew serious and her eyes looked menacingly at Jinx - I don't like the fact that you ran away - the woman confessed - Why did you do it? Was it bad for you? - accused the woman

- Why do you keep running away? - the woman continued to ask and her hand on Jinx's shoulder tightened - You belong to me - growled the woman as she touched her cartel tattoos she could almost feel the snakes on her skin crawling and forming a burning mark - Are you trying to get rid of us? Are you ashamed? - confessed the woman scratching Jinx's back hard directly into her knife scars, scars that were supposed to effectively cover up and get rid of the tattoo and yet did not. It was all a big deal to the teenager making her let out a pitiful cry of pain and her feet lost the strength to get her staggered backwards

With a small bang she fell to the ground and hot tears ran down her cheeks, when she tried to take a breath she felt her back burning and her eyes couldn't focus on one thing she was breathing fast she was practically not catching air

She was scared

Her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour

She wanted to cry but she couldn't here

- Jinx? - He called out Price had heard her collapse in the bathroom and wanted to know what was going on, he had managed to notice that the teenager was acting strangely. Strangely to his eye - Are you all right? - he knocked quietly on the bathroom door

Only silence met him - Jinx? - he called out again when the silence continued and Jinx was in no hurry to stop her - Open the door - he ordered and his patience was put to the test when he would lose it. And he was losing it rather quickly

Jinx merely opened the door their eyes met halfway they both stood like pillars of salt unable to utter a word. She couldn't speak because of the pain in her throat and because of her reluctance and he couldn't speak because of the shock he felt when he saw the state the teenager was in, she only made her way past him as quickly as she could and the slamming of the door to her room only told how quickly she locked herself in the room unwilling to see anyone.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked around the bathroom trying to find the source through which the teenage girl could bring out such deep emotions as crying. What wasn't obvious to him was that this one had suddenly started crying in the close up of the bathroom, of course he had heard her crying yesterday, but he thought it was because of the nightmares that kept plaguing her he was used to hearing her wriggling in bed restless, but it was something for him to

Well...

New

He noticed the amount of small wood on the paper towel next to the toilet where she was apparently sitting inferring from the fact that the flap from the toilet was down and the mobile trolley which usually has beard toiletries on it now had another different thing which is paper and on it were tweezers and a large amount of small wood which only heralded the splinters that had gotten into her wherever.

He could only sigh

She won't tell him what happened. She will tell him when she trusts him and will that ever come? Probably not, he wasn't even sure she should trust him still Laswell's words played in his head when Jinx arrived

He growled quietly under his breath and walked to the teenager's door. He put his ear to the door but heard nothing... the silence in that room was so deadly it even looked like the teenager was afraid to breathe, he raised his hand to knock on the door but... He didn't do it he hesitated his hand was still hanging in the air and his doubts were growing

He closed his eyes lowered his head, he should give her time clearly she was taking her period of illness hard and he didn't want to add new worries because she wouldn't recover yet. And he would not want that

His footsteps retreated towards the kitchen and Jinx let out a breath, when she heard Price moving away she knew he was waiting at the door and maybe she would even like him to open the door? Or maybe she expects too much she's too... she's too expectant, it's always others who are supposed to try for her but she never tries for others

Come on that is not the case.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Jinx fell asleep not long after she locked herself in her room again, Price went to the door every now and then still hesitating to knock. Eventually he made himself some tea, but his mind was elsewhere that he didn't even notice when he poured a second mug of tea and his muscles automatically worked adding lemon and two tablespoons of sugar to the tea. He contorted his face slightly when he realised that he had made tea not only for himself, but also for a teenage girl

Maybe it's for the better

He hadn't seen her drink for a long time and a warm drink might help her with her illness. He sighed under his breath and moved towards her room he still didn't hear any movement in her room and yet he heard her quiet breathing

She was asleep

He opened the door quietly and entered the room, careful not to let the light from the corridor into the room wake the sleeping teenager, he put the steaming tea down on her bedside table and was about to leave when his legs refused to obey him. He stood over her watching her sleep peacefully, he hadn't seen her this peaceful, ever since she arrived she always had her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes were always going everywhere and her mind was working at high speed on how to fuck up someone's life here

And yet she slept peacefully here. Not even a nightmare attacked her, Price's attention was drawn to the journal that lay on her bed apparently she had fallen asleep writing something in the journal because the pen was still in her hand, she quietly giggled to herself. He gently took the pen out of her hand and picked up the notebook so that it wouldn't be damaged while she was moving around upset by the nightmare his attention was drawn to a page in the notebook he had never been in favour of looking through someone's things but the drawing in the notebook was interesting

The teenager drawn with dishevelled hair and freckles on his face was probably wearing his shirt open, as he could see the collar, but nothing else was drawn. He could only guess that it was someone she had grown up with on the streets, he closed the notebook to avoid going through her notes and the rest of the optional drawings she might have had.

He sat down on the edge of the bed as he noticed the teen's eyebrows crinkle and the quiet words leave her lips, he gently lifted his hand and slid a stray hair over her face. The teen gently stiffened at his touch, but after a second she relaxed he played momentarily with her long red hair as if to reassure her and tell her there was nothing to worry about, that there was someone here to fend off her nightmares.

When he sensed that the teen had calmed down he looked at the wall in front of him further his hand rested on the side of the teen's face stroking her cheek in a reassuring way. Maybe she would at least spend this night without nightmares, after a moment he moved his hand away to use the palm of his hand to check the teen's temperature on her forehead she still had drops of sweat and her forehead didn't even cool down it was still burning

At this point Price just couldn't let it go, he left her room and after a while came back with the medicine he had left on her bedside table next to the tea, sure the teenager would only wake up in the morning when the tea was cold, but she would have something to drink the medicine with. He took one last look at her withdrew again into the living room and his steps were quiet so as not to wake the sleeping teenager also with a quiet click he closed the door from her room

Unaware that the teen was awake, a gentle smile adorned her cheeks but she quickly grew serious and closed her eyes to return to sleep.

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

something I do a lot without even meaning to is call people babe, honey, sweetheart, etc, but it's usually in a context that's a joke not like just in passing etc. it's the southern or the whore in me, idk. it's not even flirty, I just do it for the silliness. but when someone does something especially nice for me I occasionally go "you're the love of my life" or "we're getting married." no idea why I chose to express myself this way, but usually it gets a blush or a giggle (very rarely do I do this to a man).

however, I would do it to simon riley.

it's some small task that would only take ten minutes max. he brought you a sandwich from the mess or he finished up a bit of paperwork for you. so you forget yourself in glee and it slips out.

"Riley, we're getting married"

he freezes as you chirp out a "thanks babe!" as an afterthought and munch while filling out a health survey.

he just stares at you, nods, and heads off. you thought that'd be the end of it until he turns up an hour later with a bountonniere and a bouquet. he shoves the later at you.

"heard you say you liked these once" he mumbles as he sits down beside you. you look up confused at him.

"Riley, what are these for?" you say with a little grin. you've never got flowers from anyone before.

"my wife gets what she wants. always." he says, placing a hand on your thigh. "c'mon. not open much longer."

your eyes widen at his words. he tugs you up and out, asking if you have anything you want to wear or should you guys stop somewhere to pick up a dress. he swears he won't look beforehand, he'll just see you at the courthouse in it. he'll pay and he's got a dinner reservation afterward, sorry it's not before! do you want to take his last name?

please, doll, call him simon.

gaz is going to do pictures and price and soap will be witnesses. he's sorry it's rushed bird, but the quicker it's official the quicker he can start his husbandly duties.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

⚔️ Task Force 141 - NFL AU 🏈

by me (sleepyconfusedpotato) and @alypink ! This AU will include some Original Characters made by us both!

---

New Hampshire 141s, a new rising american football team whose players dominantly came from the United Kingdom, is ready to face the NFL season!

As the previous Head Coach, Herschel von Shepherd got fired by the General Manager MacMillan, John Price (who has roots in rugby) got chosen by MacMillan to bring the team to victory. Let us see which players caught Coach Price's eyes!

John Price (HC)

John Price was born in Liverpool, England, but moved to America when he was still very young due to his father being deployed from the military to an American base. Although his father retired a couple of years later, they decided to stay in America. He grew up loving sports as a child but American football always piqued his interest more than any other sports. He played safety in middle and high school, but in his junior year, he had Meniscal tears that prevented him from ever playing again. John was heavily depressed after his injury, one day one of his close friends, Nikolai, who was also one of his fellow teammates on his high school team, told him to cheer him up to go watch the team play or to attend the training camps, John agreed and started assisting to the games and eventually started to think about becoming a head coach. He was recommended by his former high school head coach to take the job as a defensive coordinator for the New Hampshire Wildcats, a college football team. His performance and playbook were impressive, leading the Wildcats to reach a bowl and winning it twice. He proved to be fit and ready for a professional football team in the NFL and was hired as a defensive coordinator by the New Hampshire 141’s, by the HC at that time, Herschel von Shepherd. His first two seasons were disastrous as there was friction between the players and their head coach, most of the players disagreed with Shepherd's decisions and playmaking. To add to that, he seemed to never care about the player's input or needs. Although in those seasons they held a record of 4 wins and 12 losses, the General Manager of the team noticed his defense was the best in the league for both points and yards, and also noticed that a good portion of his defense players were selected on the all-pro team of those two seasons. After the owner and GM fired Shepherd as a Head Coach, John took his place.  In his first seasons with the 141s, he restructured the team and went to playoffs and one NFC championship. As he wanted to improve his team, he started attending college football games, he attended once a college game in which he met the offensive coordinator at the time, Aly, and after the game he met her to ask about some players he was interested in on her actual team, for QB and WR positions, they became acquaintance since that day and kept communication for some time, as she sent some prospects his way. She also requested his help every now and then, making him attend her games and inviting her over to watch the 141s too. After spending time together and sharing the same interests and love for football, they started to date but kept it low as two months later, John hired her as his new offensive coordinator.

#26 Kyle Garrick (WR)

the most responsible and reliable player of the team. Kyle’s dad was an ex-WR and a former head coach out of a college football team. His father is a very hardworking man and disciplines his son like a football player, and with that, comes a great expectation for Kyle since his high school years. Kyle is extremely reliable, responsible, and respected on and off the field. He is HC John Price's favorite due to his work ethic. Kyle believes in having discipline in everything he does to be one of the best. He keeps a picture of his girlfriend, Eleanor Graham (Ladybug) everywhere, especially in his locker room as he says she brings him good luck for catching the hail mary’s from Alex.  Kyle and Alex met in Baylor University, where they played together and won many games, including several bowl games. They became best friends in and out of the football field, supporting each other infinitely. “You've got friends nearby.” On Alex’s quote, “I can throw the ball like ‘fuck it, he’s over there somewhere’ and Kyle would magically appear and catch the ball. He’s always at the right place.”

One day during practice Alex was throwing the ball too far to the left, which headed straight towards her head. On instinct and in an attempt to catch the ball, Kyle collided with Eleanor, which bruised her arms. Instead of being upset like how Kyle would expect her to react, she laughed loudly at him, saying that she chose to sit there. She knew the hazard of studying near a football field. Even though Eleanor said she can take care of her bruises, Kyle insisted on nursing her. (Alex SMILED ear to ear). They both met from time to time. Every practice, Kyle always looks for Eleanor on the side of the field. Eleanor’s laid-back personality often bothers Kyle as she's a damn med school student, but through her, Kyle learns how to slow down and live in the moment. Love bloomed between them and they became a couple midway through freshman year. 

When Kyle was drafted to the NFL to be with Alex for New Hampshire 141s, Eleanor was there with him when he received the call from HC Price. Though Eleanor has to stay in Texas to continue her studies, Eleanor travels to New Hampshire often to visit Kyle.

#31 Alex Keller (QB)

Alex is the quarterback of the 141s, second draft pick and first QB of his university. He is very skilled and hard-working, he is in love with water girl Farah Karim and aspires to be like Tom Brady. He and Kyle Garrick (WR) met in their first year of freshman in University and they played since their first year as the duo of QB and WR (Burrow and Chase vibes) and were drafted together in the NFL draft by the same team. Young duo but very effective especially during the regular season. Alex Keller met Farah Karim in his rookie season during training camp in his first year and has been infatuated with her. Since then, he has tried to score ASAP or reach 4th down so he can sit on the bench and talk with her. Whenever he can, he visits and picks her up from University and helps her out whenever he can in anything she would need.

#70 Simon Riley (TE)

Simon Riley used to be a rugby player in England. He joined the rugby team during his college days and met Price as one of his coaches, who trained and guided him to become one of the most dominant flankers in college rugby. Unfortunately, though he’s always dependable whenever he’s on the field, Simon was often riddled with injuries. His quiet personality didn’t help his case either, bearing the pain in his left leg in silence, until one day, he tore his ACL during an important game which cost the team their winning chances. Simon rested for a whole year to heal his knee. Together with his familial struggle, he contemplated quitting being an athlete. That was until Coach Price offered him a fresh start in the USA. As a flanker is equivalent to the Tight End position in American football, Price told him that he would be perfect for the role. Simon was adamant at first as he was still injured and how he’d be able to completely heal from this devastating injury. But when he said that in America they could find him a good physiotherapist to help him heal his knee, he reluctantly accepted the offer.  Simon got into the draft and was a first-round pick due to how much of a good player he was in rugby. On his first day on the team, he met the other players who got drafted, but the most important and the most fateful meeting was when he got introduced to Charlotte Le Jardin (nickname Jade to simplify her last name), a physiotherapist that Laswell had promised help him to heal his ACL and help him regain his top form. It was a rough road, but with every step he took, Jade was there to help him.  Now, every injury he has he doesn’t stay on the sidelines but goes inside the tent or the stadium so he can be checked by her. Whenever Jade’s out watching the game, he scores more than usual or gets distracted. He often carries the team, especially during the conference championship games. 

#71 Johnny MacTavish (RB)

Johnny MacTavish was born and raised in Scotland. After high school, he was offered an academic and sports scholarship to a prominent university in the USA. He began his football career when he was a freshman at University as a very talented runner, which elevated him as the starter RB on his fifth game. In his senior year he was  awarded the Heisman Trophy winner at college, but due to a shoulder injury, he missed being the top pick at the draft. He was later selected by the New Hampshire 141s and got put in as a starter as soon as he got drafted. He has good chemistry with his team but gets injured by overdoing himself or trying to tackle defensive players on the other team. He is also constantly with Jade for treatment and often misses important playoff games. Johnny is a very talented running back and that is why HC Price can’t get rid of him no matter how he misses practices and meetings and how his personal life affects his performance on the field. He always tries to take his friend Simon Riley to social gatherings and social media, but he completely shuts him down every time. That's different on the field though, as whenever Johnny's going to play a run, Simon will always be there in front of him to push the tacklers away, making way for Johnny to score a first down or a touch down. They're an unstoppable duo together. Johnny is very popular among female fans, making his jersey the one with the most sales every year. His dating story is pretty large and his games are always attended by the women he dates (which constantly changes).

some memes I made 😭

Here's the Hereford 141S' Logo and jersey design! The logo is heavily inspired by the Task Force 141's logo, so it's pretty much just a sporty twist of the logo!

More characters underneath the cut!

#11 Alejandro Vargas (MLB) and #22 Rodolfo Parra (OLB)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Alejandro and Rudy both moved to El Paso, Texas when they started high school at the age of 14 years old. They were avid football (soccer) players during their time in Mexico, but when they started High School they began to play football. Both Alejandro and Rodolfo played as Linebackers, Ale being MLB and Rodolfo being OLB. They did amazing in High School then they both received a scholarship to attend the university in Dallas, Texas. Both of them were later selected to do the NFL Pathway program, for both of them. Being together since their childhood years, high school and university they were a packaged deal and were both selected on the same team, same position on the NFL draft.  Alejandro is especially hyped when playing against Philip Graves, QB of the Dallas Shadows. They have had beef with each other on and off the field since they played against each other for the first time. Ale’s average sack during a game against Dallas is approximately 5 per game, he sometimes is way too harsh while tackling making him get a couple of flags whenever he blitzes and sacks. He’s often scolded by his friend Rudy, but he does not care as long as he can sack Graves.

Kate Laswell (Defensive Coordinator)

(Drawing to be posted!)

was raised in Virginia, USA. Both her parents and brothers loved football and so did she. Since elementary, she watched and never missed a game during weekends, she always had a fascination for the Chicago Bears and their ‘85 team. Her father told her about how that defense, without an extraordinary QB or offense made them win the superbowl and also made them the best defense of all time. After witnessing that season and that Superbowl, she fell in love with how the defense scheme in football works. Unfortunately professional football for women wasn’t an option, so she studied a lot to become a defensive coordinator. She studied day and night, memorizing the plays, analyzing games and creating new playbooks since she was young. She struggled a lot to have an opportunity since it was a male-dominated team. One of her childhood friends made it to the roster to become a defensive coordinator for the Colorado Buffaloes College Football Team, he was a good coach but not “impressive”. She supported him by attending his games but couldn't help but try to talk to him whenever she thought he could do better, often interrupting his play callings during his games to make him change the play, and it always worked. She and his friend attended a College Bowl, and met John Price at that game, the three of them watched the game and she started to tell both of them what adjustment she would do for both teams, and that piqued John’s interests as she was awfully right, he was impressed by how well she read offense’s routes and how she was able to change from a 3-4 or 4-3 to a hybrid defense. He decided to give her a chance and hired her as his new defensive coordinator for the 141’s and established a very good partnership and friendship with her ever since.

Farah Karim (Intern Physical Therapy Student - Watergirl)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Farah Karim is a university medical student who got an internship in his junior year of college to be the water girl and help around the New Hampshire  141s team. She comes from an immigrant family and is the pride and joy of her parents. She struggled so much in her younger years to pursue an education and get into a good college in the USA, she managed to get a scholarship due to her great school performance and was given the chance to work with a professional football team. She met Alex Keller after his rookie season and developed a close friendship with them that later turned into a romantic interest. She is grateful for his help and also supports him during games. Her classmates usually bug her by asking Farah to let them meet Alex or to set them up with him, which she dislikes very much.

(OC) Alyssa Martinez (Offensive Coordinator)

Aly was born in Mexico and moved to the USA thanks to a scholarship she received when she graduated from High School and moved to Texas to attend college. As soon as she graduated from Texas A&M holding a Bachelor of Science in Sport Management, she started working as an offensive coordinator at a local highschool. She then escalated to being an offensive coordinator for the College she attended. Aly managed to take the team to a College Bowl where she met 141s Head Coach John Price and became acquaintances after that game, they kept communication after that game, as Aly asked for suggestions for her playbook and she helped Price on suggesting him prospects for the upcoming draft selection and also players on free agency.  She was later hired by Price as his offensive coordinator and they began to have a low key romantic  relationship. She specializes in West Coast offense, having her team play the Air Coryell scheme. She suggested Price to draft Alex Keller as he was the perfect pocket passer that would fit their offense perfectly. She’s an avid Tom Brady fan.

(OC) Charlotte Le Jardin (Physical Therapist)

Originally from England, Jade was adopted by an American couple and moved with them to the United States at an early age. Her parents, Eli and Gracie, worked at Bravo Stadium, home of the 141s, and Jade became a constant presence on the sidelines. As time went by, the Bravo Stadium became her home. Jade started helping around the sidelines bringing water, towels, medical kits, and even helping out in the blue tent, all the while completing her college in biological science and doctor of physical therapy (DPT), and of course, licensing in Physical Therapy. When she got her license, her experience was already on par with the other physiotherapists since she had been jumping from senior to seniors, learning and practicing all she could. Kate Laswell who has been seeing Jade there since she was a teenager, hired Jade as one of the many physiotherapists for 141s, and with that came a fateful challenge: a newcomer Tight End with a torn ACL from his rugby days, who’s trying to get back to his top form in order to play in the NFL.

---

PHEW so there you have it! If you've read it this far, oh my LORD me and Aly love you so much! This is a pretty severe brainrot that we had, so hope you like it!

And let's enjoy the 2024 NFL Season 🏈🏈🏈

Hope you like it! 🥰🥰

[simonriley09]

Experienced!Johnny x Virgin!Reader.

Johnny always had eyes for you, no matter who you were with or what you were doing. Your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend was with you? his focus was only on you. You were simply just doing paperwork? he's watching. So when he woke up at night to the sounds of moaning and skin slapping noises coming from your room? he's creeping up to the door and peeking into the keyhole, Watching your boyfriend try to take your virginity but your moans are clearly faked... he's not even rubbing your clit... just a razor burn on your labia.

Your boyfriend didn't even last long.. just 10 minutes and he was walking to the door, leaving you there, cum filled and unsatisfied. Johnny hid as your boyfriend walked out before sneaking in your room. He crawled ontop of you and you froze, looking up at him. "Johnny...?" you whispered. "M'here love. Saw yr' boyfriend leave. Bet he didn't make you cum." He said quietly, staring into your eyes. "But we didn't-" "Shhh... i saw." "... No.. he didn't make me cum.. he only came in me and left." Johnny's hand slowly crept up your thigh, leaving goosebumps. His thumb dragged tight, slow circles on your clit making you squirm and whimper. His other hand unbuckles his belt, pulling it off before is jeans come off too, leaving him in just a shirt and boxers. "Gonna eat tis pretty pussy... yr' gonna cum on my face even if you don't want to, yea?" "But-" He cut you off. "No buts, just relax m'luv." He then layed down on his belly and put your legs over his shoulder, getting comfy before starting to lap at your pussy, getting it wet since your boyfriend didn't have the decency to make you wet. You gasp and paw at his mohawk, toes curling and heels digging into his lower back as he suckles on your clit.

You've never felt pleasure like this, the coil in your belly tightens incredibly fast before you can even warn him you're arching and shaking, letting out a loud squeal as you cum on his tongue. He pulls away before stripping his shirt and boxers off, his fat veiny cock slapping against his abs, leaving a small trail of pre-cum. "Johnny i can't take that! it's fucking huge!" "Y' can. And y' will." He slowly inserted the bulbous tip into your dripping cunt with a squelch, making you let out a soft gasp and clench. He hissed as you clenched, patting your thigh as if to tell you to loosen up. After a while of clenching you relaxed and let him slide the full thing in, he finally bottoms out and stays there for a few seconds before letting out a sharp, slow thrust, hitting your cervix slowly. you let out a soft whine, grabbing his sides as he slowly starts thrusting... it got a bit faster after a while, leaving you moaning uncontrollably. He kept thrusting into you when he suddenly pushed your knees to your chest, ramming his cock so deep into you that you throw your head back and scream out in pleasure, toes curling so hard you swear you can't feel them anymore. Johnny groans, drool coming down from his mouth onto his chin, dripping onto the bed while his brain goes to mush with how good your pussy feels. He's acting on instincts, like a dog in heat, just humping and ramming his cock into your pussy until he cums. You're practically on your 12th orgasm as he continues to ram his cock into your pussy, you've lost all feeling in your legs, they're just shaking and shaking with each thrust. Despite it being 45 minutes in... Johnny still hasn't cum. You squeal and scream in pleasure as his cock slips past your cervix and keeps thrusting straight into your womb, the bulbous head splitting you open on his veiny cock wider than ever. Your brain goes fuzzy as you get cock drunk on the feeling of him splitting you open over and over again. Your back and thighs are aching from the position but it feels so good. Your gushing with each thrust, squirt going everywhere but Johnny doesn't care, he's just humping his cock into the warm hole he has infront of him. Finally after what feels like forever, he finally blows his load straight into your hole, his hips stuttering and stopping after a while as he whimpers. He slowly pulls his softening cock out, watching your gaping hole leak cum and blood. He's panting, he finally lets go of your legs too, letting them fall next to him before he lays down behind you, pulling you into him so he's spooning you. His hand softly rubs circles on your tummy. "Stuffed full?" You nod, still panting as he snuggles his head into your nape, breathing in the faint scent of shampoo, skincare and pheromones you give off. He's now just kissing your nape softly, falling asleep with you. The next day let's just say.. he woke up n broke up with your boyfriend over text. <3

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Summary: When the god of the Winter needed a messenger, he had chosen you. Yet your elders wanted you dead. But John Price, the god of the Winter, had other plans for his devotee. Eventual Poly 141.

A/N: Leaving this here, then backing away slowly. If you like, please comment and reblog. Special thanks to @itsagrimm for editing, even though you aren't into the type of writing. Thank you to @ethereal-night-fairy and @wildflower-and-honey for feeding my brain worms. I love you three and cannot thank y'all enough <3 Thank you, @saradika, for your beautiful dividers that I use in literally everything.

CW: (18+) Children begone! PIV smut, swearing, a Dyslexic wrote this, Religious Kinks, brief mention of suicide, brief mention of hypothetical pregnancy because what is John Price without a breeding kink? Voyeurism, exhibitionism, praise kink, elements of paranoia, and mindreader elements.

NO AI

Leave a comment and reblog!

You had been abandoned. Sent aimlessly into the east by your deceiving elders to find the oh-so-benevolent god of Winter. Your people had discarded you, and perhaps, you had now been forsaken by the Holy One. Under the new winter moon, you had no bearing in these strange woods. You were lost and without hope. Stumbling into a thicket, you paused, catching your breath. Once your village elders cut your binds and removed the blade from your still bleeding throat, you ran. You had three options now: find the Winter God John Price and beg for mercy, return home to your village to die by your elder’s blade, or finally, die by a frozen death.

 

Yanking down the sleeves of your dress, you shivered. Only a fool would think the thin lace would be enough to fight the cold. You hadn’t bothered to ask for a cape when you would be dead come dawn by the blade of your elders or the mercy of winter’s chill. Besides, if the elders thought it could help entice the winter god closer to you, you welcomed the possibility. The god liked fine things- the fragility of ice coating sleeping trees, the nuanced tendrils that composed a snowflake, the finespun embroidery on an altar cloth. Perhaps the gossamer lace of your gown would make you look as alluring as snow?

 

Your village worshiped the god of the East along with his three other seasonal counterparts. In the winter, the altar faced east for John. In the spring, it faced north for Kyle. In the summer, the altar faced west for Johnny, followed by facing south in the Autumn for the one they called Ghost. You traversed the mezzanine of the aged temple as if it was your birthing ground, dedicating yourself to the unknown and to what divine vexed within. 

 

A creature howled in the far distance, three more joining in the call. You wished you had a blade for protection, but the foolish  elders would not allow it after the last messenger sent to find the God of Winter killed himself. He died from fear of the gods with his body left for the animals starved for winter scraps according to the elders. The collapsed skull and bloodied rock meant otherwise. You would become like the warrior- murdered- if you didn’t keep moving.

 

At least you’d be dead if you stopped moving, and wasn’t that something to rejoice over for the elders? They wanted you gone the moment you opened your mouth, defending the holy temples in a burning righteousness against their infidelity. The elders mocked your faith, staging a spectacle to rejoice in their perceived standings with the holy gods, to enshroud their continued greed of village resources, and holy temple offerings while preventing you from stepping foot inside the sacred temple. 

 

All you wanted was to worship your gods in peace and for your village to know that peace. 

 

A branch snapped in the distance. Setting your foot down ever so quietly, you glared into the darkness of the night. In your chest, your lungs froze as if a tiny breath could lead starving beasts toward you, but your heart tapped a wild rhythm against your bones like a war drum urging warriors forward in battle. Between the bones of the trees, a figure raised from the ground. Dirt quaked in its path, fearing the disturbance as flashes of odd whites and black wove into a tall, hulking beast emerging like smoke. The vaporous monster inhaled. It was as if he sucked the forest in with his expanding breath, the conductor of the skeletal structure of the land. The one who assembled appendages of bone like armor and crown, marking his distinct otherness to any creature known before. Opening his eyes, bright gold light flared from its eye sockets, a perpetual fire, locked on burning you alive.

 

You ran. Barreling through the underbrush, thorns cut and tore at your dress, slowing you down. Pushing deeper into the woods, you dared not glimpse back at the monstrous shape. The gods, you prayed, would give one last indulgence by sparing your life. Dodging fallen trees and saplings, you heaved for a breath. Your toe caught on something sending you tumbling forward, down the hill, to be stopped by a mangled stump. There was little to be felt from the roar in your mind and blood careening to endure, to run, to survive.

 

Looking up, the terrifying haint peered down at you with its head tilted to the side, lazily biding his time hunting you. Fleeing, you made way towards the river that supplied the village with water. The monsters couldn’t cross the running water at the bottom of the ravine. Everybody knew that. Your breath created puffs of smoke with each gasp of air, streaming from your lips like a dragon’s purr.

 

Down at the river, you paused, cursing at your luck. The river was frozen over, but how deep the ice went was beyond you. You had to cross, fighting for a chance at life and to find John Price to appeal for assistance proving your claims. Taking a deep breath, you ventured on the ice, straining your ears for cracking and shifting sounds. Freedom sang like a siren from the other side of the waters with the promise of faith delivering you into her hands. On the other side was an assurance of one more day in your beloved temples with the beloved gods, of life, and of being free from the elders.

 

Without the freedom to roam the holy grounds of faith, what would be left for you?

 

You slipped with a screech, flailing until you caught your balance. Your hands trembled as breath fogged the air. Crossing was the only option, regardless of death prowling down to find you. The thought of the being sent shivers down your spine, and you squeezed your eyes shut as if it would banish the evil and push you across the waters.

 

“Stop!” A man bellowed like thunder echoing in the ravine. You jumped, slipping on the ice. With an assured crack, the ice broke, plunging you into the icy waters.

 

You gasped, choking on river water. Kicking to the surface, you were met with a ceiling of ice. You hit the ice with your hand to no prevail until the bubbles from your nose dissipated and a film of darkness descended upon your peripherals. In the gloom, eyes of golden fire shimmered at you, refracted by the ice, illuminated by the flash of lightning. 

It smelled like oak and spices as you inhaled. The bed you laid in was spacious, a soft luxury you sunk greedily into. Moments of time slowly returned to you as you stirred, until a tapestry unfolded, painting what had occurred in the woods to you. How you had survived drowning or hypothermia was beyond you, feeling none of it, now. Cocooned tightly in thick blankets, albeit naked as the day you were born, sleep still called in the comfort of the home. A warm crackle of a fireplace and the deep mutterings of men speaking filled your ears as you blinked. In your nest, you buried further in, savoring the needed heat with a sigh with your eyes peeking over the cover.

 

The two men, seated in the corner, had stopped conversing to stare at you. One was slim but muscular, with dark skin and shining brown eyes. He wore a grin both authentic and sly as if mischief personified, waiting for his time to strike and laugh at your mild misfortune. 

 

The other man was a bear. Thick, burly, legs with sizable thighs spread to consume room; it seemed all he did was call attention to himself. The cocky spread of his legs to the icy blues of his eyes; your neck burned as he smirked, having caught you staring.

 

“Hello, Fawn,” The bear rumbled, intentionally softening his voice and leaning down as if afraid to spook you like the little deer.

 

“Ghost found you,” injected the younger one. “It took him and Soap to pull you from the ice and bring you home. That was pretty stupid; getting on the ice like that. Haven’t people told you not to do that?”

 

Getting on the ice was stupid, but letting yourself get consumed and murdered by a beast was even worse. You had half a mind to tell the younger man your thoughts on the matter, but here you were, naked in a stranger's bed… alive. While grateful, you needed to leave. The task to find John and plead for his assistance in clearing the village of your awful elders still loomed, as did the precarious nature of being nude in a room of two strong men. 

 

“I’m looking for someone,” You mumbled. “I had no choice.”

 

“I know,” The older man hummed before speaking your name like a whisper of wind on your ear. 

 

The God of Winter . Your spine went straight before you bolted upright, clinging the blankets to your chest. These men were not men at all but your four holy gods. There was half a mind to shuck off the blankets and fall to your knees in reverence. You had offered prayers while bathing before; was this any different? As you shifted, apologized, and begged for pardons on the tip of your lips, John shook his head and stood.

 

“Gaz, go let Soap and Ghost know our fawn is all right,” John said, clasping Gaz on the shoulder. Gaz promptly left the room, closing the wooden door behind him, not before offering you one final comforting grin.

 

“I am sorry. I had to find you. The elders sent me to the woods to murder me. And… I didn’t know what else to do but to seek your help. I’m so sorry, please forgive me. The elders are murdering anyone who dares question them. Nobody believes me even though I have proof! The village will not survive the winter because of our elder’s theft from them and of the temple and I need your help. I have done nothing wrong except be loyal to you, John,” You rushed out in a single breath. “Please, help me. Help us .”

 

John set his hand on your cheek, running his thumb over your warming cheeks. A violent shiver sprung through your body, encouraging you closer to the god. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his palm, lulled by the smell of spices and the alluringness of being physically held by him. Finally, you had removed the burden of secrecy and responsibility and John took it lightly with his hands soothing the ache from your skin with the glide of his fingers. 

 

“Love, you’re being too harsh. There is no reason to apologize,” He reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “The fault lies with your elders. You have done all I have asked of you and more. Do not agonize yourself over the stubbornness of others. It will get you nowhere.”

 

You closed your mouth and held his wrist, keeping him to you. You thought of all your nights spent praying to the god of Winter when sleep evaded you. When you screamed or cried your prayers in agony, begging the divine god of winter to make himself known to you so that your faith was not in vain and your people could be free from the elders. 

 

But what of your people? What choice would they make? The old gods were worshiped only in tradition and the elders had slowly pushed your people further from the gods as the temple began to deteriorate. 

 

You were always dedicated to the divine in odd ways. Observant gifts of John’s favorite flowers and drinks were left on your homemade altar—prayers written on little papers in a box. Spare time spent tending to the aged temple and cleaning it, preparing it for worship. Devotion in wearing John’s favorite color as a ribbon around your wrist, bearing his color like a mark of ownership over you. 

 

It was… your stomach clenched as you remembered bathing in his favorite fragrances, the soap trailing between your breasts, water falling as gracefully as the curves of your skin, for his solstice day. Later that night, deciding to offer John an orgasm on a lust-induced whim. When you came down from your high, you swore you could feel the divine by your knees, looking down at the mess you had made, dribbling into the sheets. The idea of him voyeuring into your bedroom made you leak, reaching a bold hand down to part your lips for him to see your swollen clit.

 

“What you want from us, little Fawn,” John tilted his chin to look you in the eyes as his warm toned voice dipped between your thighs to make them clench. “Comes at a high cost for you.”

 

“And let my people suffer from the elder’s greed? Surely, you understand how harsh winter can be! And to let the gods lay waste when this is proof you still are near has to be blasphemy. I don’t want to die, but I’d rather try dying than be left bystanding in silence, rotting away-”

 

John took your neck in hand and hulled you to your feet. Your words died on your tongue as his nose pressed into your cheek. Chests pressed together, his human form radiated heat and softness protecting layers of muscle and power. You wondered briefly if his divine form would look more bear or beast, unleashing the thrum of calculated energy pulsing inside the god.

 

“Fawn, martyrdom is for suicidal fools. Not even the martyrs ask for their portion, they stumble upon it trying to uphold the will of the gods which threatens the portions and powers that be in your mortal world,” John shook your head ever so slightly, pressing closer until you gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. Dark as ice, they pierced into you flickering from your eyes to your mouth, the urgency he held you with inching into territories you were unsure of but eager to explore. His eyes flickered down for a moment, and you shivered at your exposure, pressing your face into his neck as if to hide. “You will stay the night but come dawn, you must return home to live for us.” John instructed, pushing your hair from your neck. Leaning down, he nipped the bottom of your ear playfully, kissing along your neck.

 

You hummed, offering your neck to his lips. It didn’t matter if you had laid with a million other people before or none at all. You yearned for the assured solidity of the gods, and now you had it. They could have your body, the works of your hands, the words of your mouth, the paths of your feet. You only wanted to be near John, safe, nestled into his side, even if for a little while. To be welcomed into the god of winter’s bed for even a night? The idea made your thighs slickened with want, heat pooling in your stomach.

 

Everything in your bones wanted to please him, to let him have his fill of you, to honor him with the best of your skin and body. You’d get on your knees for him. Suck his cock until you are panting, with his cum on your tongue. You wanted to be good . You let out a little whine, a soft vibration in your throat. John chuckled, coming up from your throat to kiss you properly, all while moving you on the bed.

 

He kissed down your throat, gently touching your chest with the hints of friction making you squirm, tangling your fingers in his hair.

 

“I want you to soak my fingers and cock with this pretty cunt tonight, Fawn” John decidedly spoke. You eagerly nodded, humming as his hand squeezed the fat of your stomach. 

 

You opened your thighs as he descended between them, grinning as he knelt before you. You could have laughed at his eagerness if it wasn’t for the gentle, inquiring sweep of his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. A sigh fell from your lips as he played with your cunt, a pleasant warmth filling your mind as your legs found a home on his shoulders, your hand on the back of his neck, scratching the short hairs there.

    

“Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy since you showed her to me,” John growled, thumb swirling on your clit just as you had when you played yourself for him. Your knees bent, pushing your pelvis to catch the angle just right . “Offered me use of your body, a delicacy, to use as I please. Perfect little human for me to fuck whenever,” He growled before putting his mouth to work, sucking on your clit.

 

You keened, bucking your cunt into his face. John devoured you whole, feasted on you, your head in the clouds, floating with nothing to tether you but his mouth. The god of winter’s fingers prodded your entrance, slipping in with a slight stretch. His fucking hands, reaching depths you could never achieve on your own, made you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. From below your stomach, John was fully committed, eyes closed, grunting against your cunt.

 

John fought against your legs, drawing out the pulsing waves of pleasure until your ears were ringing, vision white, cresting into a beautiful brainless hum as your body went limp. 

 

“Fuck, John, I can’t,” You whimpered, pushing his forehead back. Your chest heaved, hands grasping for anything you could reach until he slid his hand in yours, anchoring you to him. He moved, and you closed your sticky thighs, clenching at the slick dribbling down. John reverently kissed your collarbone, hands brushing over your scalp, lulling you from the cloudy space.

 

His lips kissed along your neck and chest as his hands wandered along your hips and thighs, rough fingers tickling the sensitive skin of your ass. Your eyes opened, greeted by his gentle gaze as he hovered over you. His mouth had been pinkened by your cunt, hair mused by your thighs and hands. 

 

Grabbing his hand, you kissed his palm before licking the fingers that had been inside of you moments before. Something was intoxicating about the way you tasted, strong and delicious. Taking his fingers in your mouth, you hummed, thinking about how much thicker his cock would feel. John swore, pushing his fingers against your tongue, stilling your control. You moaned, letting your eyes close and legs fall open. Holding his arm, you could feel how your tits were pressed together by your biceps, making you not only a sight but a spectacle .

 

“Want my cock that bad, little fawn?” John teased. Opening your eyes, you nodded, nudging him closer with your foot. Removing his fingers, he drug his hand down your centerline, leaving a cold trail of your spit down your body. He slowly entered you, grunting with his eyes glued to the way you sucked him in.

 

“Fuck, John,” You whimpered, panting at the fullness pressing you open. His thumb rubbed your clit, lulling you back to another orgasm. Spreading your legs, he placed a knee on the bed as he began to thrust, covering his cock in your frothy slick.

 

It was hot and so, so full as he reached parts of you that had you gasping for air and tearing up. There was no pinch, only a subtle burn from the stretch, soothed by his cooing in your ear and thumb working wonders on your clit. Shifting his hips, he fed you more of his cock, making your vision go frayed around the edges. If your brain could leak away, it would slowly leak out with the wetness of your cunt.

 

“Just like that, fawn,” John encouraged, making you clench around him. “My little offering to take as I want, letting me use you like a good girl,” John grunted as you clenched around him, his hands falling to your stomach and hip, selfishly grasping at the plush skin to pull and drag you off his cock with.

 

“I’m,” You whined, clawing at the god’s massive arms, rippling with movement. “Please, John! Feels so good, filled up,” You babbled, trying to run closer and further with each thrust.

 

His other hand laid over the base of your throat, curling possessively around, forcing your eyes to his, forehead to forehead, as he pressed and pressed into your cunt, stretching you wide and filling you perfectly.

 

“Pretty wet cunt, dripping for me,” John’s lips brushed your ear, moaning into it. He reached a hand to gently pinch your nipple, making you gasp. “Rub yourself for me. Let me see you soak my cock.”

 

You slid a hand between your thighs and rubbed your clit, spreading your lips wider, feeling fully exposed, unable to help the moan and the chasing buck of your hips, humping the tight heat pooling in your stomach.

 

“Cum, love. Cum for me.”

 

You listened, you always did, a perfect little offering for him to use. You fought to keep your eyes open as you came, body convulsing, to show him what he had made you into. But when your fingers became too sharp, the pleasant hum of blood in your head turning into a sharp ringing, you went limp, thighs covered in slick cum as John took his final thrusts. Ropes filled you as his hand lovingly smoothed over your lower stomach. He rested his forehead on yours, panting as he lazily kissed you, his cock twitching as you warmed him. 

 

“You okay?” John whispered from his place between your breasts as you scratched the back of his head.

 

“Sore,” You hissed as he slipped from you but was quickly scooped into his arms and laid across his chest. “M’tired,” You confessed, closing your eyes with a soft sigh.

 

You would be content to lie on his chest for the rest of time, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, wrapped in the warmth of his broad arms. Everything about you felt small compared to him; the way his hands engulfed yours, the way your calves had laid over his shoulder, the ripple of muscles and fat as he had fucked you. 

 

“I need to clean up,” You mumbled, fingers following the lines of his pectorals. 

 

“In a moment, darling. We’ll both clean up.” John kissed the top of your head, reaching for a glass of water for you to drink from before he took a few sips.

 

The god of Winter leaned down and kissed you so gently, soothing the aches with gentle hands against your thighs. Though, you felt it was more an excuse to touch your thighs more, but you didn’t mind. After cleaning up, you fell asleep swiftly, draped over his chest as his fingers traced dainty traces of snowflakes along your spine, tended to and protected. 

In the morning, you woke in your own bed, dressed in the robes of a high priestess, as someone pounded on your door. As you rose, you felt the phantom aches of the previous night between your thighs. Quickly hiding the robes, you caught the white scars of John’s handprint over your womb, etched like silver ice into your skin.

 

“One second!” You yelled, dressing. Once you were decent, you threw open your door and gawked.

 

“There’s been a war party! They burnt the elder’s homes and the wheat stores! We need help!” The man took you by the arm and pulled you into the fray of dark smoke against the blooming pink winter sky. It was snowing, melting into water that slid down your arm and into the frosted grounds.

[lieutenantfloyd]

[gomzdrawfr]

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

[hunterbunter3000]

Can't stop thinking about an all woman Task Force coming to SAS and helping Task Force 141 + Kortac for a mission

Can't stop thinking about the male team waiting for the women to get here, expectations all different for each of them

Can't stop thinking about a huge, futuristic transport plane coming down to land, and Soap wondering why they don't have one that cool (And Ghost telling him to shut up)

Can't stop thinking about two women jumping out of the jet and play fighting, chasing each other and one pinning the other one down in a chokehold

Can't stop thinking about the absolute shock the men have on their faces when they see how fast they are, and how tall and big and pretty these two women are

Can't stop thinking about the giggling women standing up but get pushed forward by another girl, even taller and bigger than the other two, frowning at them and snapping at them to 'keep the line moving'

Can't stop thinking about more of the female team coming out of the plane, some with headphones on, some talking to each other, and some straight up ignoring the male team as they carry heavy cargo like it weights nothing

Can't stop thinking about how there's a K9 handler on the team and brought out these big ass wolf-dogs with spiked collars and one of them scares the shit out of Soap because it barked at him and she apologizes to him with a nervous smile (he's already in love)

Can't stop thinking about how the males can't stop goggling at these absolute beautiful women that pass them by who look like they're from the fucking island of Themyscira

Can't stop thinking about how Capitan Price and Ghost almost pass the hell out when they see the last two women get out of the plane, the tallest person they've ever seen in the front and a bit shorter one in the back

Can't stop thinking about how all the women have to bend down to go through the doors

Can't stop thinking about all the women finally introducing themselves with their call signs and the tallest one in the team (who almost broke their doors because she cant get through them) is the Capitan and her second in command is behind her

Can't stop thinking about the second in command giving Ghost a small nod with a soft smile, sending him in a spiral

Can't stop thinking about some of the girls crowding the men, cooing down at them about how cute they are and how muscular they are, pinching their flustered cheeks and curiously groping their overwhelmed bodies

Definitely can't stop thinking about how the men know they're absolutely fucked for these few months.

Can't. Stop. Thinkinnggggg.

[rorylovesangst]

A Burning Hill

construction worker/underground fighter simon riley x waitress

mood board

song of the chapter is Pretend by Alex G

tws: sh injury, physical discomfort, violence

previous chapter → chapter 4 -> next chapter

word count: ~3.5k

You’re sick as a dog. Panting and slimy in your creaky bed, blanket kicked and crumpled to the footboard. The burn on your chest is swollen, angry, and oozing under the makeshift bandages Olive swathed you in days ago. Ronny has called you at least five times, each ring prising you from the fragile cocoon of restless sleep you’ve managed to weave. Your phone buzzes now, taunting you from the dresser. Just a mere few feet away. A short reach.

You stretch out your hand, your fingers twitching, aching for just one more inch of reach, hoping—praying—that your arm might suddenly grow longer. Long enough to brush the phone. Long enough to silence it. But every attempt leaves you with a limp hand dangling over the side of your bed and a hollow, wheezy sigh  escaping your lips.

Olive sent you home yesterday. She took one look at your sunken eyes, pale complexion, the way you swayed on your feet as you knotted your apron, and didn’t give you a choice. “I’ll cover your shifts,” she said, her tone tolerating no argument. “Until you’re looking more like a human being than a ghost.”

The thought comes to you slowly, sluggishly, like a heavy tide creeping in: Maybe this is an easy way out. Just stay here. Let the fever do its work. Let the infection take over, creeping through your veins like rust on old pipes. Rot away in your bed until the light above drinks you up. 

How pathetic. Dying of an infection from a self-inflicted burn. Too scared to do the job yourself, so you let the elements finish it for you. Let them break you down, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to recognize.

Suddenly, a knock rattles through the silence, edged and obstinate, pulsing in your skull like a drumbeat. Your breath hitches, shallow and ragged, as if the sound itself has stolen the air from your lungs. Frozen in place, you don’t answer. You can’t. The weight of the fever presses down on you, but it’s the icy prickle of panic that locks your body in place. Your mind spins: Did someone find you? How? Each knock feels denser than the last, and a thousand explanations churn in your head.

The phone on the dresser buzzes again—another call from Ronny—and for a moment, you wonder if it’s connected, if somehow he’s sent someone here to lug you back to a life you’ve worked so hard to enshroud. Your pulse croons in your ears, every nerve on edge, waiting for what comes next.

Then, a voice muzzled by the door: “Blue, it’s Riley.”

You almost laugh—if you could find the strength. Riley. You think about his crooked nose, the way he speaks without hurry, like the world will wait for him to finish. A construction jacket and a coffee order. That’s all you know.

Another knock. Blairing this time. “I know you’re in there. Olive told me.” 

Olive. That traitor.

Your hand sags off the side of the bed, fingers twitching toward the phone that buzzes again, its vibrations rattling the chipped wood of your nightstand. You try to form words, but they deteriorate before they leave your tongue.

And then you hear it: the soft click of the front door. The scuffle of boots on your entryway floor. He’s inside.

“Blue?” His voice moves through the house like it belongs there, moored but heedful, as though he’s navigating a minefield. You want to yell, to tell him to leave, but all you manage is a puny groan that catches in your throat.

It doesn’t take him long to find you.

“Jesus Christ.”

He’s a haze in the doorway of your room, framed by peeling paint and sagging drywall. His shadow stretches across the floor, falling just short of your bed. You squint, trying to push away the fog in your eyes, and there he is. Tall, broad, the hem of his faded green jacket brushing his thighs. The material strains slightly at the shoulders when he crosses his arms, the soft crinkle of the paper bag in one hand breaking the tense silence.         

“Olive said you ‘aven’t been answerin’ her texts. Sent me to check on you,” he grumbles, stepping further into the room. His gaze sweeps over you—hair slick to your forehead, barely clothed, glowering—before landing on the burn. Raw. Oozing. Pleading. His lips press into a thinner line.

“She said you weren’t takin’ care o’ yourself. Thought maybe she was exaggeratin’,” he mutters, setting the bag on your nightstand. The red of the burn cream box catches your eye. “Lemme see it.”

Your head shakes feebly against the pillow. “No.”

“Fine. I’ll jus’ call Olive. Get ‘er over here.”

“No, no!” You want to sound flinty, but your voice is crazing and brambly. “You can’t tell her. She’ll hate herself—hate herself for not noticing. Please, please don’t.” You’re out of breath, your hand that was limply hanging over the bed now holding onto the fabric of his jeans.

He sighs, dragging his hand down his face. “I won’ tell her. But you hav’ to show me. I don’t believe that its fine.”

“The fuck would you know? I am fine.” You screw your eyes shut, wishing that when you open them, he is gone.

“Sure,” he drawls, squatting beside the bed. His presence is overwhelming, the scent of cedar and smoke luxuriant in the close space. “Sweatin’ like it’s a thousand degrees in ‘ere. Burnin’ up.” His hand moves, wiping the damp hair from your forehead, palm sultry against your molten skin. “Not to mention I can smell it. But yeah, let’s pretend you’re just peachy.”

“Fuck you,” you carp, turning your face away.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, his dark eyes scintillating with something like amusement. “Now sit up. If you can.”

You glare at him, a mix of dissent and exhaustion guttering in your fevered eyes, but you don’t argue. Not verbally, anyway. Instead, you brace your quavering arms against the mattress and push. The muscles in your shoulders scream in protest, your elbows wobbling under the weight of your own body. It’s a pitiful attempt, and you hate how much of that struggle he sees.

Before you can slumping back, his large hands are on you—steady, firm. His arms slink under yours, lifting you with ease, as if you weigh nothing more than the blanket tangled around your legs. His chest skims yours as he sets you against the headboard, and for a moment, you feel the surprising gentleness beneath the bulk of his strength, that faint cushion of chub that makes his size even more intimidating. His heat lingers even after he steps back.

“You’re not gonna yell at me for doin’ it myself?” His voice is low, imbued with dry humor as he glances at you.

“Shut up,” you mutter blandly, bending further into the headboard. The cool wood presses against your spine, a stark contrast to the fire licking at your chest.

Simon doesn’t press further. He reaches for the roll of bandages wrapped haphazardly around your chest, the adhesive tainted with sweat and… something worse. His thick fingers, marked with scars and nicks, work carefully to peel them away.

“Gonna sting,” he warns, glancing up at you, his dark eyes searching your face as if gauging how much you can take.

“No shit,” you sneer, though your voice lacks its bite.

The first pull makes you flinch, your head snapping forward on instinct. His free hand pinions gently against your shoulder, keeping you in place without force.

“Easy,” he murmurs, his voice softening in a way that almost makes you wince more than the pain. “I got you.”

You don’t respond. Can’t. The adhesive wrenches at your raw skin, ripping a low hiss from your lips. Simon pauses, glancing at you again, but you wave him on. The quicker it’s over, the better.

The bandage finally comes free, leaving your burn displayed to the cool air. A fresh wave of pain flourishes in its wake, sudden and throbbing, making you gasp. Simon grimaces, his lips pressing into a hard line as he takes in the furious, provoked wound.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, his brow furrowing deeply. “That’s worse than I thought.”

Your stomach froths at his tone. “It’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his voice sharper now. He tosses the stained bandages into the paper bag before pulling out the burn cream and gauze. “You need more than this shit,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking the cream tube. “You need a fuckin’ doctor.”

“I said no hospital,” you snap, though the words come out weaker than you want. “No doctors. No Olive.”

He leans back on his heels, staring at you like he’s trying to decide whether to argue. Up close, his crooked nose casts a slight shadow on his face, and his lips part, only for him to close them again in frustration. His fingers tap against his thigh, the faint smell of cedarwood and smoke mixing with the metallic tang of your wound.

“Fine,” he says finally, the word heavy. “But you’re gonna let me clean this up proper. No arguing, no whining, no tellin’ me to fuck off. Got it?”

You nod, too jaded to fight.

“Good,” he mutters, leaning closer as he unscrews the cap of the cream. He scoops a dollop onto his finger and pauses, his eyes flickering to yours. “This is gonna hurt.”

“It already hurts,” you reply hoarsely, your voice more resigned than bold now.

His hand, warm and steady, presses against your skin, the cool cream a sharp contrast to the burning heat radiating from the infection. The pain grinds for a moment, making you wince and fist the sheets, but his touch is oddly precise, methodical. You feel every callous on his fingers as he works, but his hands never falter, never shake.

“Still breathin’?” he asks after a long moment, his voice lighter, almost playful.

“Barely,” you manage, earning a faint grin from him.

When he’s done, he wraps fresh gauze around your chest, his fingers unexpectedly gentle as they secure it in place. He steps back, surveying his work with a critical eye, his broad shoulders blocking the dim light of your bedroom.

“There,” he says, standing to his full height, his presence towering over you again. “Better than it was, but you need to keep it clean. No more half-assin’ it.” His voice relaxes slightly, though his words remain compressed. “And you’re gonna eat somethin’. I’ll grab somethin’ from the kitchen.”

“Bossy,” you gabble, letting your head fall back against the headboard.

“Someone’s gotta be,” he counters, the faintest hint of a smirk jerking at his lips as he turns and heads toward the door, the floorboards creaking under his heavy boots. The scent of cedarwood and smoke lingers behind him, a faint reminder of the storm of a man who’s somehow decided to fix you.

Simon returns less than ten minutes later, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he steps back into the room. In one hand, he’s holding a steaming bowl of soup; in the other, a plate with a single piece of buttered toast balanced precariously on the edge.

“Had to scrape together somethin’,” he mutters, setting the plate and bowl on your nightstand with a clatter. His dark eyes narrow as they flick over you, still slumped against the headboard. “You’ve got nothin’ in that fridge. I mean nothin’. How the hell are you not starvin’ to death?”

You don’t answer immediately, too busy concentrating on the smoke wafting off the soup. It smells faintly like chicken, or maybe just broth—nothing elaborate, but it stirs a hollow ache in your stomach you’d ignored was there in the first place.

Simon doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I found a half-empty jar of pickles, a loaf of bread that’s probably older than I am, and some butter that looks like it’s seen better days.” He crosses his arms, his bulk looming over you like a scolding parent. “You expect to live off that? What, you just sittin’ here waitin’ to waste away?”

You glare up at him weakly. “Wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, though even you don’t believe it. Your body practically wobbles with the need for sustenance.

“Bullshit,” he snaps, grabbing the plate and holding it in front of you. “Eat.”

You stare at the toast, mulishness flaring despite the gnawing in your gut. “I’m not a child.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he quips. “Only difference is, kids don’t usually try to kill themselves by neglectin’ a fuckin’ infection.”

With a sigh, you reach for the toast, your fingers trembling as you bring it to your mouth. The butter has melted unevenly, pooling in one corner, but it doesn’t matter. The first bite is bliss, the saltiness grounding you in a way that feels almost humiliating.

Satisfied, Simon turns to the soup. He dips the spoon in and holds it out to you. “Come on.”

“I can do it,” you say, but your attempt to take the bowl from him is so poor it barely counts.

“Sure you can,” he replies sarcastically, keeping a steady grip on it. “Open your mouth.”

You scowl but comply, taking the spoonful of broth he offers. It’s warm, salty, and comforting, soothing some of the ache in your chest that isn’t from the burn. He feeds you spoonful by spoonful, his patience unexpected given the size of his frame and the frankness of his demeanor.

“You’re a terrible patient,” he grumbles between bites. “Makin’ me play nurse ‘cause you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

“You volunteered,” you point out weakly, though the retort lacks bane. The warmth of the food is lulling you into a foggy calm, and your eyelids start to feel heavy.

He shakes his head, scoffing softly. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

By the time the bowl is empty, you’re slinking lower into the mattress, the exhaustion from your fever pulling at you more demandingly now. Simon notices, his gaze softening slightly as he sets the empty bowl and plate aside. He stands, brushing his hands off on his jeans, and pulls the blanket up over you.

“You’re a bloody mess,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Gotta figure out how to keep you alive long enough to fix that.”

His scent—cedarwood and smoke—lingers as he adjusts the blanket, making sure it covers you properly. You mumble something incoherent, your voice fading as sleep pulls you under.

When you finally drift off, your breathing slow and even, Simon lingers for a moment, watching. His broad shoulders sag slightly, the weight of something unspoken heavy in the air. Then, as silently as a man his size can manage, he slips out of the room with a quiet Pain in my ass. The front door clicks softly shut behind him, leaving behind only the faint traces of his scent and the warmth of his presence in the empty house.

He’s a shaken can of soda. Bottled up and eager to bubble and fizz over the edge at the first snap. His knuckles aren’t just bloody—they’re raw, split, and sparkling under the yellow warehouse lights. The wraps are long gone, shredded after the first round, leaving his bare hands to meet flesh and bone with nothing to soften the impact.  

The air down here is suffocating—thick with the stink of sweat, blood, and desperation. It clings to Simon’s skin like a reminder of where he belongs. Around him, the crowd churns, their voices a discordant purr of bets and roars, urging him forward like he’s nothing more than an animal in a pit.

He exhales slow, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his opponent looming like a freight train. The guy’s face is a mess—a swollen eye, split lip, blood streaking down his neck. Good. Simon’s done his work. But the man’s still standing, fists tight, chest heaving. Another swing could end it for either of them.

Simon feels the ache in his ribs. A rib is cracked—maybe two—but he pushes past it, lets it fuel the fire under his skin. Pain’s a language he knows better than most, and tonight he’s fluent.

But through the haze of bloodlust and adrenaline, a thought cuts through. You. The memory flickers, uninvited but sharp: you, curled up on that worn mattress, sweat gluing strands of hair to your temples, your voice small and tired when you said It doesn’t matter. I'm fine.

He hadn’t answered you then—hadn’t trusted himself to say something that wouldn’t make you retreat further into yourself. You’d looked so fragile, so wary of being seen like that. Vulnerable. Human. And yet, there was something in the way your eyes softened when he stayed, when he didn’t push too hard.

He adjusts his stance, shaking the thought loose. There’s no room for you here—not in this ring, not in this fight. But your image lingers, shadowing his movements like an echo of something he can’t quite name.

The signal comes—just a nod from Price—and Simon thrusts forward, fists flying, every ounce of pent-up rage and guilt exploding in raw, ruthless force. He lands a right hook that rocks his opponent back, the crunch of bone reverberating up his arm.

The guy swings back, wild and reckless, his fist grazing Simon’s jaw. It’s enough to make his ears ring, but he recovers fast, dodging low and countering with an uppercut that lands hard. The man stumbles, spit and blood spraying from his mouth as the crowd howls their approval.

For a moment, Simon falters—not physically, but somewhere deeper. He hears your voice again: It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. A lie so thin it was nearly transparent. How many times had he said the same thing to himself?

His opponent surges forward, and instinct takes over. Simon plants his feet, pivots, and throws everything he has into one last punch. His knuckles connect with the man’s temple, and it’s over.

The guy crumples to the ground, and the crowd erupts, a cacophony of cheers and stomping boots. Price is there almost immediately, clapping Simon on the back, his voice low and approving. “Good work,” he says, already turning away. “Now clean up and get outta here, I need you early tomorrow morning. New buildings and shit.”

Simon stands there, chest heaving, his vision swimming. The blood on his hands feels stickier than usual tonight. He doesn’t know why.

As he stumbles toward the shadows to catch his breath, your face drifts back to him again. Fragile, guarded, but alive in a way that this place never will be.

What the hell am I doing here?

The thought lingers, just long enough to sting. Then he shakes it off and sinks back into the noise.

[valscodblog]

•❣•୨୧ "𝙊𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨" 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ୨୧•❣•

SEASON ONE TEASER

Warnings: 18+ MINORS, BE GONE OR BE BLOCKED! I will be checking the blogs who like this post. THIS IS VERY MDNI! I REPEAT MDNI! Why, you ask? Drinking, smoking, cheater!Simon, Bully!Gaz, Lapdog!Soap, and CEO!Price, SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT!, cheating (Obvi-Simon), vulgar language, and adult jokes. (these warnings are warnings for the series as a whole. The teaser is pretty clean-but still MDNI pls and thx)

Remember! Reblogging is a form of liking too!

"Sir-you called?"

"I did. Come in, Y/n."

"Yes, Sir."

if only you knew how much you affected him. He tensed slightly and then said, "Call me, John." to which you nodded. "Of course...John." Huh...sounded pretty coming from your mouth...wonder what else would.

"So...your new, you dont know much of well...anything, Love, so ill give you the run down."

you gulped, "If i may ask before we start sir, what did i do wrong?" "Oh its not what you did wrong! It's what one of my...lowers did wrong, more so." "Oh..." "But you too are...semi at fault here-you entertained a certain...thought. Even acted upon it with a certain, Simon Riley?" you quirked a brow up. "Yeah...i went a date-" "Well let me tell you-you missed work with the excuse that you were sick...lying to me isn't a good idea, swee'eart." you gulped. "Uhm...I uhh, didn't call off, Sir-" "Oh really? I hope you know we, for legal reasons, record every phone call we get at this company, Y/n."

you were in huge trouble...

Tags <3

@cafekitsune (Her dividers) @seconds-over-first @thebunnednun @writing-with-moss @staytrueblue (I think you'll like this series) @needa-sum-luvn and whoever else wants a tag, just lmk!

[drenix004]

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐘━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141

❝𝐃𝐚��𝐬𝐲︙She was an odd one, as was her obsession with daisies. But, that made her unique in the eyes of the herd… she became the treasure of TF 141.

warnings: mention of alcohol, drugs, death, obsession, among others, if you are not comfortable, don't read it !

rating: 18+

pairings: Task Force 141, Köning y Horangi x Oc female.

Summary: the hunt for jewels had begun, so Laswell decides to pass her off as a human and send her to the British military base under the command of a colleague, all this without him knowing her true identity to protect her (sorry, I don't know how to summarize).

¡English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me.!

wattapad -> here

●❯────────────────❮●

His footsteps echoed through the gray tiled hallways, he ignored whoever greeted him for wanting to get to the office where the woman works.

She even earned strange looks for not returning greetings as this was unusual for her.

Behind her came someone on her heels, also needing to get to the same office for the same reason she did.

He did get looked at with contempt and hatred for his nature, after all he was not human and those who were not, ended up being marginalized, despised or hated in whatever facility they went to.

She arrived at the woman's office and entered without warning, being followed by the man.

-Tell me it's not true, Laswell," she said as she set the letter, which she had crumpled in her hands on the way there, down on the table with a thump - "all that thinking for missions made you crazy?

The short-haired woman looked at her before answering after a sigh left her lips.

-The base in that place needs medical help, and you have it, besides, you are also a second lieutenant , you have combat training," she answered, "you are qualified for the transfer.

-Do you really think so? You are not only transferring me to the medical bay, you are also transferring their team, and alone," replied the woman, disgusted by the situation, "they are a gang, they will see me as an intruder, in the worst case scenario they could attack me. I'm a damned prey, I'm a human.

Laswell raised one of his eyebrows as he listened to her, glanced at the man next to her, who remained silent, before reconnecting gazes.

-We both know better than that, Harper. Nothing's going to happen to you over there, let alone with the team. Price knows how to control his boys, they're not monsters like the rest of them make them out to be, you have my word-when she wanted to protest, he stopped her-there are rumors that they're starting with the jewel hunt… again.

Harper froze in place, trying to process the last words.

-Hadn't that already been listed as a crime?" the man asked at last, as he placed his hands on his companion and made her sit down.

-That's not stopping them, there are more reports of disappearances-Laswell looked at the woman, who felt dejected by the new information-that's also why I sent you there, you'll be safer than here-he grabbed her hands and squeezed them carefully-this I'm telling you as a friend, I don't want anything to happen to you.

She sighed before nodding, if it was for her safety she would do it.

-Why can't Kamli come? He's my spirit familiar," the man squeezed her shoulders in comfort.

-I need him here, his ability to hide in the shadows can help me find information. We have to make sure there are no rats.

-She looked at her spirit familiar, kamli nodded determinedly.

Yes, as long as I'm connected to you I can visit you at night and re-establish the connection so it doesn't weaken.

-You see it's no problem? It will all be temporary, unless you tamper with the pack-Laswell smiled-and I'll reinforce the magic of the collar so nothing happens, just don't go near the water.

-Ugh, damn Banshee. You always get away with it-Harper held out the necklace with a daisy-shaped crystal charm he had to Laswell.

-This is the best Banshee you'll ever meet in your life," the short-haired woman floated the necklace and filled the flower with her magic, "That will do, you leave tonight.

-I won't even have time to pack everything-Harper sighed as he put the necklace back on.

-Kamli can help you later," she said simply.

-Witch.

-always-Laswell smiled at her before returning to his report, he had to finish it by today-closing it carefully.

-I heard you," Kamli helped her to stop and they both left the office, completely ignoring the woman's inner prayers that everything would go smoothly and without mishap.

That the dark forces would protect and take care of the little flower she had for a friend.

chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...coming soon

[noisydelusionlove]

Chapter 1: We Need a Medic

Not edited or beta read or anything, just getting my idea out I guess.

Pairing: Poly141xOriginal Character (I might turn it into a reader but I don’t know)

Warnings: military inaccuracies, medical inaccuracies, COD inaccuracies, A/B/O dynamics

John Price looks up from his stack of papers as a frantic knock sounds on his door. “Enter” he calls out, the door flying open almost immediately. Gavin, the most recent Beta medic comes in, his moves frantic as he stares at the head Alpha of Pack 141. “I quit, I’m done. I’ve met a lot of crazy Alpha’s but he tried to rip my throat out!” Gavin yells as he stares at John. John gives a sigh as he nods.

“I’ll have your papers sent by the end of day.” He says as the Beta leaves quickly, the scent of fear and panic permeates the office causing John to crinkle his nose.

John stands from his desk with a groan as he makes his way to the side of the barracks that houses the medical office.

When he enters the medical office the smell of burning rubber hits his nose, angry Alpha. John’s nose crinkles as he breathes it in, followed by a calming smell of rain. When he enters the room completely he sees Simon sitting on the medical bed with Johnny pressed to his chest, in an attempt to calm him.

“Scared another one away huh Ghost?” John sighs as he meets the angry eyes of Simon behind his black balaclava. “Trying to poke around when I told him I was fine.” Simon grunts out, causing John to shake his head. “How copy?” John sighs as he runs a hand through his beard. “Solid cap, it was just a scratch.” Simon responds as he motions with his chin to the wound on his arm where a bullet grazed him on the last mission. John nods as he turns and heads back to his office. John shuts the door behind him and sits at his desk with a sigh. He reaches for the cigar box on his desk, quick to light one to attempt to calm his nerves.

The shrill sound of his office phone takes his attention as he sighs again and reaches for it. “Price” he says only as he places the receiver to his ear. “Trouble in paradise I see.” A female voice comes from the other end. “Hi Kate” John grunts as he leans back in his chair. “Ghost chased away another medic I see.” Kate sighs as John grunts in affirmation. “Word travels fast, poor pup just quit.” John says as he ashes the cigar into the tray on his desk. “I have a suggestion.” Kate says, her tone serious. “and that would be?” John groans as he rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You’ll see when I land ETA 15 minutes.” Kate simply says before the line goes silent. John places the phone back on the receiver and lets out a loud huff.

John sighs as he stands at the hangar watching at the helicopter descends to the landing pad. Once the helicopter is stopped the door open and out steps Kate Laswell. “Good to see you old man.” Kate calls, causing John to roll his eyes as he takes her hand in greeting. The two of them head off of the air field and into the cart to take them to his office. “I hope this suggestion of yours is going to solve my medic problem.” John states as he glances at Kate. Kate gives a small nod as the cart stops and they step out, heading to his office.

Once the door is closed Kate pulls a file out and drops it on John’s desk. “Former sniper, marine trained medic, more than capable of handling all of your men especially Simon. Feral gives just as much as they take. I guarantee they’ll survive here.” Kate says matter of factly. John eyes the file suspiciously. He opens it and notices the first page, the profile page is missing. “Kate-“ he starts but is silenced as Kate shakes her head. “Read it first before I give you the profile. Make your decision based on skill before anything else.” Kate says, her tone shifting, her inner Alpha coming out. John sighs as he reads through the file, his eyebrows raising at the scores and recommendations this medic has received.

“Sniper to medic huh?” John says as he eyes Kate curiously. “Wanted a change of pace.” Kate says, but it’s obvious there’s something she isn’t saying. “Look, this medic seems great but I know there’s more to it. I can’t have another Alpha here. It’s already difficult with me and Ghost. Ghost is an apex, his instincts are stronger than even mine, a third Alpha could be dangerous.” John says as he stares at her. Kate shakes her head. “Not an Alpha, I promise.” She responds. “Would you hire them?” Kate watches as John nods. “They look like a dream come true but I know you’re not telling me the whole story.” John leans back as Kate nods. “So, feral, Sargent Lee, will be here tomorrow to start her new job.” Kate says, causing John to nod. “Here’s the profile.” Kate smirks as she tosses a paper down causing John’s eyes to widen. The profile shows a young woman, barely 30, the name Aurora Lee underneath and in bold letters it states ‘Classification : OMEGA’. John’s eyes shoot to Kate as she stands there smirking. “Your new medic is an Omega and I promise you she isn’t like an Omega you have met before.” Kate states, causing John to growl slightly. “This won’t end well.” He says as he shakes his head. “I think it will end perfectly.” Kate smiles as she turns to leave his office. “I’ll see you tomorrow when she arrives.” Kate calls as the door shuts. John stares at the picture of his new medic, his new omega medic with a sigh. “The boys are going to flip.” He mutters to himself.

Next Chapter>>>

Masterlist>>>

Silver heart knot divider by @tsunami-of-tears

MDNI divider by @arlerts-angel

Header by me

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

going to a singles meetup and mistakeningly thinking simon riley is there for the same reason.

to be fair, he was sitting at one of the tables being used for dates. however, that was because the event staff were too intimidated to ask him to move. they assumed no one would approach him, but unlucky for them you did.

simon doesnt know what's going on around him with all these stupid couples- that's probably why this pretty bird is sitting across from him. no other seats. it doesn't explain why you're asking him all these questions about himself, though. mutters through it, thinking he's going to scare you off. simon's surprised when you respond with interest and seem charmed by his aloofness, not put off.

eventually he puts down his phone (ignoring johnny's stream of tiktoks) and starts being more receptive. offers to buy you another coffee or fruity little drink from the barista up front. compliments you for being so dressed up just to get coffee. he's surprised at his own interest in someone beyond work, let alone their cat's names. simon's ready to ask you for your number when a bell rings from the other side of the room.

he's confused (and disappointed) when you get up with your clipboard and tell him you hope to see him soon. where are you going? why are you leaving him to sit with that guy over there? simon pouts for a second before deciding he's not going to take this shit. he's imprinted on you like a stray animal.

he then takes stock of all the clipboarded couples.

simon steals a clipboard by startling an organizer. ranks you as his one and only pick. proceeds to scare any other man you talk to into giving you up.

pleasantly happy to discover you ranked him number one as well- but you're confused when a staff member said there wasn't a simon riley on file. good thing he was there to remind him of their mistake. he fucking blushes when you smile at him to ask for his number.

come on bird, there's a tjmaxx and a courthouse down the road. he'll buy you flowers while you pick out your pretty white dress.

[ltash]

Pest Control 141

Taskforcexfemalereader

You were ready for anything—armed combat, hostile extractions, stealth missions. But what Ghost just called you for? Well, it wasn’t in the job description.

“Oi, get to the common area,” Ghost’s voice crackled through your comms. “We’ve got a... situation.”

You rush in, ready to face some unknown terror. Turns out, the "situation" is an eight-legged monstrosity clinging to the wall, looking like it’s planning world domination. Ghost is standing in the corner, arms crossed, keeping a good six-foot distance between him and the spider.

“You serious?” you say, trying not to laugh. “Ghost, the guy who can take down a platoon single-handed, is afraid of a little spider?”

“It’s not little. Look at the size of it!” Ghost says, nodding toward the creature. It’s huge. You’ll give him that. But still, the irony is too rich to ignore.

“Fine,” you sigh, grabbing a broom like a true warrior. “I’ll take care of it. Stay back, tough guy.”

You inch closer, broom in hand, ready for the mission. Ghost watches closely, clearly not trusting the spider to stay put. With the grace of a seasoned soldier, you raise the broom and swipe—only to miss entirely. Instead of falling to the floor, the spider launches itself… straight onto Ghost’s chest.

The next few seconds are pure chaos.

Ghost lets out a noise you’d never expect from him—half a growl, half a yelp. His hands flail as he tries to bat the spider away, but it’s too late. The thing is clinging to him like a special ops agent on a stealth mission.

“Get it off! Get it off me!” Ghost shouts, running around like he’s under enemy fire.

“Hold still!” you yell, trying to catch up to him with the broom.

“Hold still?!” Ghost snaps, dodging your first broom swing as you chase him around the room like a scene from a slapstick comedy.

In the middle of the commotion, Soap walks in, immediately bursting into laughter. “What the hell is going on in here?”

You barely glance at him, still in hot pursuit of Ghost. “Spider. On Ghost. Stand clear!”

“On Ghost?” Soap is doubled over now, laughing so hard he’s struggling to breathe.

Ghost is still running in circles, arms flailing. “For the love of—just hit it already!”

You aim another swing at Ghost’s chest, but he dodges, and the broom whacks him in the shoulder instead.

“That’s me, you bloody idiot!” he shouts.

“Stop moving, and I’ll hit the spider, not you!”

In one desperate move, Ghost trips over the couch, falls backward, and lands flat on the floor, the spider still crawling around like it owns him.

“Now’s your chance!” Soap shouts, cheering you on like it’s a championship match.

You raise the broom like a gladiator about to strike the final blow and bring it down. This time, you hit the target. The spider goes flying across the room, landing on the window with a satisfying *splat*.

Ghost lies on the floor, panting. “You hit me at least three times, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I got the spider, didn’t I?” you grin, offering a hand to help him up.

He swats it away, muttering, “I’d rather face a whole squad of enemies than deal with that thing again.”

Soap is practically on the floor laughing at this point, tears streaming down his face. “Oh, mate, this is the best day of my life. Ghost, scared of a little spider!”

Ghost pulls himself up, glaring at you both. “Say one more word about this, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Soap wipes a tear away. “Noted. But I’m definitely telling Price.”

You shake your head, trying to contain your laughter as Ghost storms out. Mission accomplished, but you’ll never let him live this one down.

[brokenpieces-72]

Monster!141 x wendigo/jackalope reader

Continuation of this one

Sizes

Inspired by @bluegiragi hybrid au and @diejager Only Human Series

Over time you get to see the two newcomers at work and while everyone was busy being possessive and protective over Hunter, you were more curious. However because the team was equally protective over you -seeing you as their young when you’re human- it’s a bit like watching a kid as they play in a non child proof area.

Gaz is watching over both you and Hunter constantly, sticking close to see what you guys are up to while Horangi or König is in the room. Alejandro and Rudy feel like your uncles as they make sure to stop and ask how you are in the hallway, regardless if the KorTac members are nearby. Soap continues his older brother role and has yet to bring up his family getting legal custody over you. The time isn’t right, and he needs to talk to you about it more. His constant presence while sparring is him showing off, like, “this is my pup, proceed with caution”.

You on the other hand, from the teams perspective it’s like watching a kid play on an empty road, they keep an eye on you, but let you do your thing. And your “thing” is watching KorTac. Horangi’s haetae form is different from the two shifters you’re most familiar with, because while it’s mostly tiger there are features you don’t expect. When he finishes a round of sparring with Alejandro you ask him what exactly he is and then ask if you can spar with him next. Alejandro isn’t surprised by your request. He chuckles when Horangi gives you a look.

“You’re sure you want to do that?”

“She’s sure hombre, get back on the mat.” Alejandro says, crossing his arms. Horangi doesn’t like taking orders but gets up and indulges you. He’s actually thrown off by your agility as your strikes move pretty quickly even for him. At first all he does it guard but he soon catches your fist, spins you around and pulls you on to the mat. It knocks the wind out of you, it’s so fast. Alejandro is about to get confrontational when you start laughing.

“That was fun.” You say getting the air back in. Yes you have a tendency to giggle when you go down in training, and smile when you’re exhausted. Horangi can’t help but smile a little before helping you up.

“Can you show me how to do that?” You ask. He may not have signed up for this, but screw it teaching you some tricks couldn’t hurt.

“Colonel, you going to assist?” Horangi taunts to Alejandro.

König watches you from afar for the most part. It isn’t until a tracking session with Rudy and Gaz that he sees you’re not some innocent jackalope who could be snatched up in seconds. The terrain is one you’re used to at this point, with plenty of large trees, small cliffs, and loose ground. There were even some old ruins of previous cabins and shelters nearby which you knew would make for excellent cover.

König is nervous about shifting around you too, worried he might scare you and with two protective hybrids nearby, his mind goes to worst case scenario.

“Do you want me to shift first or do you want to find me as a human?” You ask. König’s thinking comes to a halt hearing you say that, while Gaz and Rudy both look at him waiting for an answer. He didn’t realize you were the one they were tracking. At first he thought he would be the target, larger, easier to find, less stealth. But you?Gaz or Rudy he could expect, but you? You were small sure but not that small. He scratches the back of his head.

“Sh-shifted.” He answers. At least it gives you more of a fighting chance. Then he sees you shift. As a human you’re half his size, looking like a kid next to him but shifted, you’re almost the same size as his Percht form, if only a little smaller. König looks up at you in awe and surprise. You tilt your head at him, while Gaz gets his attention with a pat on his back.

“Come on big guy. Eyes up.” Gaz says teasingly.

“Ve a esconderte, cabo.” Rudy orders and you run off. Despite your size you move quickly, climbs and jumping from tree to tree and ducking behind bushes and over growth, your form fading into the thick forestry. All while moving softly like you’re a part of breeze.

“Geist.” König said. Rudy and Gaz looked at him.

“Say again?” Gaz asked. König realized he had said it out loud.

“Ah…she makes me think of an earth geist.” König said.

The other two hybrids contemplated the idea. Not a bad call sign.

“You’ll have to tell her when you find her.” Rudolfo comments.

“If we find her.” Gaz adds.

They got to work after half an hour, with Gaz sending you a warning of your pursuers. You change the channel on your radio so they couldn’t use it to locate you not that they would. The radios work on one channel so they can find each other better and still be able to communicate over the distance. If they couldn’t find you or there was an emergency the channel would switch accordingly.

König joins alongside Rudy and the cadejos.

“Not changing? Your choice.” Rudy commented.

“I shift when I need to. And I don’t need it for training. I find it exhausting after some time.” König says.

“Gaz how copy.” Rudy radios.

“Still no visual. She’s going hard on this one.” Gaz responds.

“She’s getting better.” Rudy says.

“You usually track children?” König asks. Rudy gives him a look, and König notices how poorly he phrased his question. “Her I mean…o-or uh…apologies.”

Rudy pats him on the shoulder. “Since she became more comfortable around us, si. She became the one we tracked. A good tracker herself but we found she was better at hiding.”

“I see.” König says. There’s a slight jealousy wishing it was as easy for him to hide.

Rudy continues requesting visual updates from Gaz who has little luck.

“I don’t like it but you two may need to split up, cover more ground.” He suggests.

“Copy. The cadejos have different directions.”

“She’s getting smarter.” Gaz comments as he lands to try and look around for you. Rudolfo and König split off searching for you. König thinks for a moment after going for an hour by himself.

“Gaz, any visual?” He asks.

“Negative. At this rate we’ll have to trap her.” Gaz admitted.

“How far can she be ahead of us?” König asks.

“Say about 1 click.”

As if on cue he hears clicking, and his fight or flight reflexes kick in.

“König going dark.” Gaz hears. He can’t get König to respond to him and he starts getting nervous. Training exersices are taken seriously but this may have gone too far. Gaz flies lower to find Rudy, and thankfully he does easily enough. Before he can say anything they both hear loud screeches.

They take towards the noise with the cadejos running up ahead and find you wrestling with a Percht. You’re staying calm, but the Percht is raging at you. It’s only backing off to build up its next strike at you, scratching at your exposed muscles and gnawing at the bark of your limbs. The veil over the monsters face tells you who it is, and all you can do is hold your own. You can smell Gaz and Rudolfo close by and so can König. Your priority is to keep the other two safe. When König tries to turn around and go for them, they both move, taking cover just before König sees them. You move too, and brutally. You’re tired from the hard hits König has dealt, but Kyle and Rudolfo are your friends. Doesn’t matter who it was, you’re ready to defend and protect them the same as they’ve protected and helped you. As the Percht turns away you yank it back by the shoulder. You ram into him, getting your antlers under him and rear up, sending him tumbling behind you. You screech at it. A warning to back off and a challenge to try again. It goes for you and you lock him against you, trying to scratch at its neck, hoping it would get the hint. When König is shifted, he doesn’t have control, his only mindset is kill. As you toss him he tosses you. You claw him he claws you. But if it bites you bite back.

His attacks only continue to get violent even when you try to be defensive. The cadejos try to slow him down, acting as distractions or flanking it with their own bites but it’s proving fruitless. Rudy’s head is starting to ache from it, and Gaz takes to air throwing hardened feathers as projectiles. The thing just screams loud, making everyone’s ears hurt and ring, before you whack him hard, shutting him up. You grip him by the skull tearing off the veil and twisting his neck until the rest of his body follows, getting on top of him. You hold his jaw closed and force him to look at you before screeching yourself, trying to keep him still. If fighting wasn’t going to work, then exhausting him would have to do.

Gaz dives for Rudolfo who is holding his head behind a tree, and lifting him to higher ground. You struggle to keep the Percht still but its movements become fewer and weaker. It doesn’t matter though, you keep him still and don’t loosen until you see dark whisps coming off of him as he passes out beneath you, returning to his human form and you turn to yours. You’re still on top of him when you check his pulse, both of your clothes and gear basically shredded to shit. But you don’t care, panting on top of a passed out König. Gaz and Rudolfo come back down to help you up and help König back to base, with Gaz calling for Hunter to be prepped.

König of course is in a lot of shit because of this. Horangi is being questioned about his hybrid partner and why he would do that. You didn’t encounter König until after he had shifted and you repeated this multiple times that you don’t know what happened. Horangi could only try to side with you as he explained that König wouldn’t shift on a training run. Rudolfo being a the good man he is, mentions König had said the same while they were together.

Despite him giving you multiple injuries you’re still worried about him, and stay by him while he’s resting. Soap is worried about you and the injuries you sustained. Mending broken bones and self healing were a benefit but your healing factors were not instant. Hunter tends to him when she can and makes sure you keep eating.

When König wakes, Horangi tells you right away, and drop whatever you’re doing to go see him. When he sees you though he looks ashamed. He knows what happened and he can’t explain it. He barely remembers shifting. He does remember hurting you though. You insist you’re okay and give him a half a smile. Gaz and Rudolfo aren’t far behind, wanting to check in on König as well. The guy had proven to be a strong asset and your insistence on his character made it hard to argue.

He rests for a couple more days with you checking in on him and seeing how he’s doing. At one point you come over and sit with him and ask why he doesn’t shift. When he mentions losing control and becoming a mindless rampager you think about the night you lost control.

“I become nothing but a monster.” He says, starting to put a new veil on.

“I do too.” He stops and looks at you.

“But you did not.”

“But I have. I’ve lost control and gone on violent binges. I’ve been uncontrolled before…it’s normal.”

There is silence between you two, and he wonders.

“May I see the wendigo? P-please?” He asks. You smile. You enjoy showing people, and shift carefully in the room, not wanting to break something. You lower yourself to all fours, and look at him curiously. König is nervous but hesitantly reaches out to touch your head, with you meeting it halfway. You look back at him while he examines you with his eyes. You make soft clicking noises.

“You really are an earth spirit.” He comments and you make an odd sort of cooing sound mixed with happy clicks. For the first time you see König give a small smile. It’s one you don’t see often, friendly and soft.

König gives his own report saying something had attacked him during their training session, but he was unfortunate enough to not see who or what. Price gives him a warning to be more careful, but you offer to help König train and get more used to the Percht.

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