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ink-n-shadow · 5 months ago

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Being knotted in John’s lap as he mumbles that he’s gonna breed you full of his babies right here in his office

(Or literally any of them bc 🫠🫠)

Or your boys rubbing their faces in your neck before they go to work in the morning bc they’ll be damned if they don’t go to work smelling like you

the second idea is so adorable heLLO???

SCENTING

𝜗𝜚 the one about how the pack!141 scents you (almost) every day

𝜗𝜚 pairing: packforce!141 x omega!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), scenting, kissing/sucking scent glands, fingering (reader!receiving), allusions to threesome at the end

it would become so routine and mundane for the five of you, something that came almost as natural to you as breathing.

the routine would begin at around 4 in the morning when john begins stirring in bed, mumbling out your name as his hands pat around the mattress and other bodies for you. once he found you (which was curled up with johnny, most of the time), he’d tug you against him, instinctively burying his face into the side of your throat and nudging your scent gland with the tip of his nose. he would lap at it, give it a bite or two, smother it in soft almost feathery kisses, anything to make your sugary sweet scent stick to his skin.

and once john’s had his fill and gets out of bed to amble downstairs for coffee and a cigar, simon’s coming up from behind, tugging your back against his chest and holding your throat in the palm of his hand as he immediately attaches himself to your gland. he’s more primal in his movements than john is, taking long (almost lewd) drawn out sniffs from your neck as he rubs his stubbled cheeks in the smell of you. (he may or may not dip his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, sliding through the wetness there before bringing his fingers up to lap at hungrily. but hey! at least he makes you come!)

seeing you whimpering and slack across the mattress is what makes kyle move over in bed, gathering your now jellied form into his arms and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. because kyle’s a beta, there is no scent gland for you to nuzzle into, but the smell of soap and lotion on his skin is enough to have you further relaxing in his arms, head still spinning and clit still throbbing beneath your underwear.

johnny only scoots over in the bed and cuddles up with you from behind when he notices the lack of body heat against him, making him whine sleepily and paw at the mattress until he finds you against kyle. by now, you’re drowning in the different scents covering your skin, not to mention the new scent of arousal and slick festering between your thighs. johnny finds comfort in them all, which immediately has his brain feeling dumbed and his cock twitching to attention.

if it’s not too late, johnny will let you ride him, with kyle in front of you and guiding your movements with his large hands pawing at your hips. if it is too late, then kyle’s drawing johnny out of bed with promises of a blowie in the shower

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

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darklordofthesimp · 25 days ago

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Anything IX

The 9th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I'm back for good this time cos I bailed out of my trash job of 6 years hello mferssss

Warning: Graphic Language, Graphic description of violence

You’d been thinking about your past more often than usual, especially on the nights that you lay staring at your ceiling. Saint told you that it was a sign that you’d begun to move on. The villain that had consumed your thoughts was now a tentative ally and you’d been left with history seeping through the cracks.

You were almost grateful.

Almost.

You thought about your career before the incident, about the missions that went impossibly wrong. Death, grief, sorrow, hatred, and guilt, they weren’t things that you experienced alone. Shared pain eased the blow- you weren’t the only one suffering and, in a way, that provided comfort.

However, the mission that truly plagued you was a mission so highly classified that there were only four people who still knew of it. There were only four people who survived it.

“You and me, Birdy.

We’re dead.”

You sat up in your bed, mind kicking into overdrive. The dim light on your wrist indicated that it was well past midnight but your blood was electrified.

You’d been so preoccupied with what had happened to you that you’d stopped thinking about what you’d done. Why had someone tried to kill you, you had to have done something. You had to have known something.

“We’re dead.”

You pulled your duvet from your body, the cool air washing against your skin to make it prickle. Winter was, by far, the worst month to live on base. The heating units in your block were terrible and outdated with the empty promise of upgrades. You slid into your slippers and ventured into the hallway, palms rubbing up and down the length of your arms.

Your feet were on auto-pilot as they led you to the door of the last person you’d expect to seek out. There was no light seeping out from beneath cracks and you couldn’t hear a sound from inside. He might not have even been home, it was a Saturday night after all- no one was in. Not even Simon, and that was saying something.

You shifted your weight on your heels, wincing when the floorboard creaked under the pressure. It couldn’t hurt to knock. Or it could, you supposed. You had no idea why you were here, knocking on his door at 2am in the morning was unhinged behaviour.

You took a step back from the door, another creak betraying your position. This was a dumb idea. You could talk to him in the morning like a normal, functioning human being would.

The door swung open suddenly, forcing your heart into your throat.

König’s hulking silhouette filled the frame, shadowed and imposing. He barely fit through the door as he stepped into the corridor, the dim warmth of the ceiling fixtures washing over his figure.

You quickly realised that he’d been asleep as you took in his visage. Sleep tousled hair, a vulnerable gaze, König stood before you shirtless in long tracksuit pants. You forced your eyes to remain fixed to his face as he looked you up and down.

“Birdy?” He rasped, scrubbing his face lazily with one hand, the other resting on his hip. “Why are you lurking at my door?”

Indignant heat crawled from your neck and into your cheeks. “I wasn’t lurking, I was about to knock.”

König narrowed his eyes, silently telling you that he knew you were lying. You changed the topic, crossing your arms defensively.

“I just wanted to talk about something, I didn’t realise how late it was.” You cast a glance down the hall where you’d come from. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, we can talk in the morning.”

As you turned to leave, hot with embarrassment, König sighed.

“Birdy.” He called.

You peeked at him tentatively from over your shoulder.

The man opened his door and gestured inside. Your breath hitched in your throat, the room behind him was dark. That jade gaze watched you tiredly but with intent. He wasn’t going anywhere with you, this time you would have to come to him.

“Are you sure?” You asked quietly.

You received a nod in reply.

With a sharp breath and squared shoulders, you wandered cautiously into the lion’s den. Your bare skin brushed against his waist as you passed him, sending a thrill down the length of your spine.

A floor lamp turned on behind you, flooding the room in a warm, sensual glow. You barely heard the door click shut, you were too busy taking in the room before you. It was nothing like you’d been expecting, furnished and decorated with a surprising attention to detail.

The room smelt lightly fragrant, as though incense was lit frequently enough to linger. You caught sight of candles on the desk to your left, ‘cedar wood and myrrh’. That would do it.

The corner of your lip quirked upward at his library/gaming corner. A dark wood shelving unit housed a plethora of his books and a gaming console, then a flat screen mounted in the centre. Bean bags were neatly organised atop a dark rug, you figured they would be more comfortable for him than an inevitably too small couch.

A game was still playing on the screen, the character standing inactive in their own world.

“Were you playing?” You turned to look at König, who seemed very suddenly uncomfortable.

“No,” he cleared his throat and cast his gaze to the floor. “No, I fell asleep while playing.��

Your eyes were drawn to the bed last.

“That’s a big bed.” You don’t know why you said it.

“I’m a big guy.” Was the reply.

The bed was tall, something you would have to climb onto if it were your own. There was a large, dark wooden headboard pressed against the back wall, framing the bed like it was the main feature of the room. Dark silk pillows adorned the matching silk bed sheets, and you could only imagine how comfortable they would be on your skin.

You turned to face König who had put a shirt on somewhere amidst your gawking at his home.

“I didn’t think your room would be so…” You trailed off, gesturing at the space around you.

“Delicate?” He offered, self deprecation ringing through his tone.

“Nice,” you finished. “I was going to say nice.”

A small smile finally graced his lips, the first one you’d seen all night. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought he sounded self-conscious about the space he’d designed.

“I spend a lot of time here,” he shrugged as he offered you a beanbag. “I wanted it to be… nice.”

You took a seat, sighing as the tension in your body dissipated instantly. König stretched those long legs out as he got comfortable atop his own bag across from you.

“Why don’t you get out more, there’s plenty to do around here,” you mused.

König chuckled darkly, “people don’t like me very much around here, Birdy.”

The mood dampened at that, the energy in the room shifting. His green gaze had lost the softness that you’d almost grown accustomed to, becoming guarded instead. You wish you’d just held your tongue.

“What did you want to talk about?” König asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You swallowed thickly, bracing yourself for another shift of his attitude- this time to anger. You weren’t afraid of his frustration, not anymore. God knows that you’d seen enough of it directed at you to know that you were physically safe. Despite that knowledge you still hated seeing it with every fiber of your being.

“I want to tell you about a mission I did a while back,” you said shakily. “Then I want you to help me figure out whether it might be connected to everything that’s… happened.”

König’s eyes narrowed, darting to the door and back. He stood to his feet quickly and you flinched as he brushed past you. You turned to look over your shoulder at him, surely he wasn’t walking out of his own room.

“I thought we agreed to drop it,” he growled beneath his breath and you weren’t sure whether he was talking to himself or you. He was rummaging through his desk irritatedly, muttering as he worked. “Of course you didn’t drop it. Why would you? Let’s all die together!”

Soft music began to play and you raised your eyebrows as he placed a speaker against the door.

“What, are you setting the mood?” You snarked, settling back into your bag as he returned to his. He shot you a withering glare.

“It’s so that no one hears us as you, once again, try to get us killed by talking about this on base.” He hissed, propping himself up.

You rolled your eyes at him but you knew he was right. It would be more suspicious if the both of you had gone on an excursion into town together, you’d have all eyes on you. There weren’t many places for you to approach him about information but it seems all the places you have were wrong.

“Tell me about the mission,” he sighed though his nose. The frown lines on his forehead softening as you nodded.

“This mission was, and is, highly classified. You cannot tell a soul about this.” You warned, watching him earnestly. It was König’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Yes, I will try my hardest to not tell all of my best friends in the 141.”

You shot him a withering glare.

“Fine,” he groaned. “Obviously I will not tell anybody, Birdy.”

You nodded, satisfied with his response, before launching into the details of the mission.

“Alpha 1-1 to Bravo 1, SITREP, over.”

“Bravo 1 in position, green status, over.”

“Bravo 1, maintain position. Payload incoming. Alpha 1-1 out.

You drew a deep breath, taking in the view a final time beyond the scope of your rifle. You’d perched up on the high ground, neatly hidden between wiry bushes and dirt mounds. The U.S forward operating base, its entrance, and the arterial road in, were all at your mercy.

Your mission was to provide cover for a high value payload and offer additional defense to the U.S FOB while it received. For a black bag operation it was deceptively simple. Then again, you had no idea what the payload was. You’d been told that the objective was to protect a Shadow Company squad while they “delivered the milk.”

You weren’t important enough to be privy to more than that.

A dust trail in the distance indicated the payload’s approach and you set to work. Thermal imaging provided you a clear picture of the incoming convoy as it cleared the crest. To your alarm there were only three vehicles before you, for such precious cargo you thought that there’d be a larger security detail.

There was a civilian blocking the route ahead of them that you’d raised concern about prior. U.S soldiers had been dispatched from the base to remove him but were thus far unsuccessful. Your stomach tightened as the convoy slowed to a halt 350 yards from your position.

As one of the Shadow members dismounted their vehicle you couldn’t shake your rising paranoia. You felt the hairs on your arms raise and your skin prickle- a sniper’s sixth sense. You turned your sights to the crest the convoy had appeared from.

There was something very, very wrong.

You watched the crest carefully, praying that you were paranoid.

But, you never were.

“Sierra 1, contact rear, near ambush!”

No sooner than the callout had left your lips, the incoming vehicles opened fire.

Chaos erupted the way it usually did in war. The screams, the callouts falling on deaf ears, the gunfire- it all blurred, really. The only thing you could truly hear was your own breath. Every inhale was steady and your heart followed in suit, a steadfast sniper was the most accurate.

And there was a reason that you were the best.

One by one they fell. Amidst the cloud of moon dust and the flurried movements you could see everything, and everyone, as clear as day. The floor was littered with bodies, men from both sides ironically meeting the same end.

A blinding flash forced your eyes shut as your scope lit up. The explosion rocked the earth beneath your stomach and you knew then that the fight was lost. An RPG blast had ended it all in an instant, obliterating the men you were protecting. Limbs, shrapnel, and wreckage were all that remained of Shadow Squad.

Your teeth were clenched tight enough to cramp your jaw. You couldn’t get a shot with the enemy operators hidden behind the cargo.

“Bravo 1, don’t let them take that fucking payload!”

Shepherd's voice was desperate, a growing hysteria that you’d never heard from him before.

“I don’t have a shot,” you ground out through your teeth.

Between Graves and Shepherd barking half-baked orders down the line, there was little coherency.

The mission objective was a monumental failure and an unjustifiable amount of lives had been lost that day, along with the payload. There was only one survivor of the ground assault, a blessing in itself. Dipaolo had been knocked unconscious in his vehicle after the RPG explosion and assumed dead by the enemy.

You had tried to talk to Dipaolo briefly while waiting for your transport home. He’d been mumbling to himself dazedly in the back corner of the medical room for hours when you approached him.

“Dipaolo?...” You trailed off. The man had lost his entire squad in one hit, he’d woken up to their blood on his face and their limbs scattered across the dirt. No amount of experience can give you the right words to say to a man like that.

His hazel gaze met yours, distant and tired.

“What have we done?” He whispered.

Your tongue dried in your mouth and you could only stare at him in response. You’d failed is what you’d done. You’d failed this man and his men and you couldn’t protect them.

“We’re so fucked,” he shook his head. “We are so fucked.”

“What-” you’d barely choked out the word before he grabbed your wrist roughly. You yelped as Dipaolo pulled you in close, the smell of sweat and blood on his skin. He reeked of death.

“Do you know what we’ve fucking done, Birdy?” The Shadow hissed through gritted teeth as you tugged uselessly against his grip. “Do you know what we just fucking gave them?”

“Let go,” you rasped. Panic began to rise in your chest when his gaze turned hysterical.

The door behind you flung open but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man before you. His grip tightened as he flicked his sights to the medics entering the room.

“Do you know what we’ve done, Birdy? Do you know what we gave them?” His words blurred together desperately. “We’re fucked! You hear me?”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Relief flooded your chest as the returning medic inserted himself between you and the crumbling soldier. “Let’s just back up for a second.”

You ripped your arm from his grip and immediately turned to leave, your skin burning where you’d been detained. You tried to tune out Dipaolo's screams as you left the room but this wasn’t a battlefield and you had no rifle- you heard it all.

“We are dead!” The Shadow’s voice broke from behind you. “You and me, Birdy, we’re dead!”

König’s face was stony as he leaned back into his seat.

The silence following your story was heavy and your mouth was dry. You couldn’t remember the last time that you’d spoken so much in one sitting.

“Birdy,” König mused, “when was that mission?”

“A while back, a few months I’d say,” it was a rough estimate. “I’d have to check my dates.”

König shook his head, green eyes flashing with alarm. “How long did it happen before our… incident?”

You blinked slowly, taking in a deep breath. Your heart dropped to your stomach and it was as though König knew what you were going to say before you said it.

“It was the last mission I had…” you trailed off shakily. You felt like you were going to vomit.

König’s eyes hardened as he voiced the realization that you had both come to.

“It was the last mission you did before I was sent to kill you, Birdy.”

#konig x reader #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #König #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig cod #modern warfare 2 #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #anything verse #anything cod

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lostintransist · 15 days ago

Text

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 4

… -.-. —- .-. .—. .. —- / … - .. .-.. .-.. / .- -.-. - .. …- .

Part 1 found here | AO3

CW: restraints, shots (medicine), disassociation, unresolved sexual needs

Waking comes slowly. The scent of rut and pancakes oozes from under the door. For the sourness of your own scent, you had always been able to use your nose better than most people you met. Within two minutes of all the men coming down the stairs you knew the tallest one who glared at you, Simon they called him, would be starting his rut.

Realizing you could smell it coming you tried to warn betas if they were going into rut or heat. You stopped doing that when Sarah mentioned some of the betas requesting suppressants instead of dealing with their oncoming cycle.

“Something interesting happened today, I want to run it by you.”

Bitch smiled down at you where you lay strapped to the table, bit firmly wedged between your teeth. You had taken the tip of her finger the last time she had you on the table and didn’t seem keen to repeat the experience. Sarah had not let you brush your teeth for four days, ‘to teach you a lesson about biting the hand that feeds’ or some other bullshit. All you had learned is to love the taste of blood in your mouth.

“Seems some of our guests have decided that they are going into rut and would rather not deal with that,” Sarah uncapped a needle, drawing air into it before plunging it into a vial marked only with a serial number.

Squirming did nothing to put distance between you and the evils held in the tiny clear vial. Replacing the air for liquid Sarah set the vial down gently before swiveling to you. You hated those small stools with no backs and the stupid mint green painted along the walls. When you finally died from Sarah’s ‘care’ this is what hell would look like.

“They were bunking in your room, and they aren’t the first beta to request this after spending time with you,” she grabbed your arm, pinching up the muscle between her finger and thumb. “Seems like we need a bit more information about your brain.”

A sound from beyond the locked door to your room pulls you from the memory. Covered in sweat and panting you scramble off your bed and peer underneath it to confirm you were alone. Once your room confirmed its emptiness you stripped your night clothes off. You hated buttons on your sleeping outfits but you didn’t trust these men yet and refused to tell them anything if you could help it. Using the pant leg to wipe off as much of the fear sweat from your body as you could you then dress in a matching set of loose beige sweats. They reminded you of what Scorpio provided.

Opening your door you scan what you can of the room before sliding through the smallest space you could. The door is shut tight behind you. Stepping silently from years of practice sneaking around the various buildings you were housed in you find John asleep on the couch. He is passed out with only a pair of boxers on, bite marks littering his skin. The faintest smell of slick clings to him, you would have missed it at this distance if your nose weren’t so strong. Biting your tongue you force back the cries of your beta to join them in the nest upstairs. You were not invited.

A small fire burns in the stove, lifting the temperature of the room. A stack of pancakes sits on the counter covered with plastic cling. Glancing up the stairs you can hear small noises and grunts that would send you into a spiral if you listened for too long.

Making a decision you drift into the kitchen. Eating the pancakes dry is a choice. The number of times you have to pause chewing to release the bolus from the roof of your mouth? Annoying, but these were free pancakes. When your stomach begins to groan, a ship sinking too heavy under a load, you pause. A pancake and a half are left. Covering them back up with the cling warp you look around the kitchen. A bowl, several measuring cups, a pan, and a used plate and fork are all tossed in the sink.

This you could handle. One of your main duties for a long time had been cleaning dishes after meals. Finding the soap and a clean towel you set to work. Humming a song you had learned before going to Scorpio the sink is cleared and cleaned in no time.

John is still asleep on the couch when you finish. The fire is starting to burn down. The wood stacked near the stove tells you that the flames can be fed. Studying the black surface doesn’t give you any clue how you are supposed to add it without burning yourself. Waiting had become the option. Glancing around the couch you found a blanket laid neatly over the back of the couch tucked under John’s body. The idea of getting close enough to be touched sent shivers rolling down your back. Freezing it was then.

A flutter of movement at the back door drew you to the pocket of cold air lifting off the glass. Two crows, you think they are crows as you could never remember how to tell crows and ravens apart, are playing on the back porch. Calling it play seemed best. They both would pick up a small stick before waving it about, dropping it, and hopping about.

You must shift, or move in some way because they fly away in a flurry of caws. Their departure hits you in the chest. Birds had been something you missed the most. Outside time at Scorpio had been strictly regulated and no trees were ever allowed to grow tall or full enough to be welcoming for a family of birds or squirrels. Wishing had been your one way out; you always wished you had been born with wings. Pressing your fingertips to the glass you ignore the chill of the heat being stolen.

Stolen. That word rings through your brain, a dirge of a funeral march. Something changes, like the clang of the mausoleum gates slamming shut and a jubilee begins. You can go outside. No one is here to stop you. John is dead to the world and the others are busy. Nearly dancing on light toes you retrieve your outside wear from where you had stored it in your dresser yesterday.

Boots on you are reaching for your coat when you remember the shawl from Johnny, tucked between the mattress and the bed frame. He had tried to make you laugh yesterday. Telling you stories of his sister’s antics when they were kids or lining up jokes he would knock down like bowling pins the most he got from you had been a smile you couldn’t stop. The man looked like you had gifted him his wildest dreams when he caught sight of it. Another one hadn’t slipped out after that.

He was too damn nice to you. Nice only led to pain. Gods, you wanted this to be different than Scorpio. No one there who had any power had given you a gift though. That’s what he called it, a gift.

“Noticed you admiring it in the store lass. Figured if you ended up with us your life before must have been shite and a splash of color would bring a light to your eyes.” He had explained after dropping it over your shoulders and standing in the bite of the wind to look at the stars.

Staring at him for a few breaths as he grinned at you had been a surreal experience. Any care you had received in the last decade had been stolen in passing or shared under the watchful eye of staff. The open, blatant, outright loud acknowledgment hung from your shoulders in the dark. He had turned to the stars after you clutched the gift in your hand, worried he might take the soft shawl back.

The two of you finally worked your way back inside when you couldn’t feel the fingers anymore. Johnny had parted with a soft goodnight and disappeared up the stairs in the dim light that illuminated from the stove. The click of the door shutting upstairs had broken the spell over you. The lock thrown and the gift was tucked under the bed to keep it safe from a cursory glance.

Making a decision you pull it cautiously from below the mattress curling it around your body before hiding it below your coat. Sneaking out of your room once more you find yourself in the kitchen. Taking the plate you leave the cling wrap in a ball on the counter. No alarm rings when you slide open the back door, the crunch of the snow beneath your boots the only sound that breaks the perfect silence.

Tucked in the corner under a tarp you see what looks like a stack of chairs. Glancing from the could-be chairs to the corner railing where you had seen the crows playing. Making a decision, you tear off two small-ish chunks of pancake and clear the snow from a portion of the wide railing top. Setting your offerings down you set about freeing a chair for yourself.

Waiting had been a skill you cultivated at Scorpio. You could leave your body behind and fly with wings longer than the cabin you stayed in. Sat as far from the railing as you could be time slips by as you wait for the possibility of them returning. A sound draws you from your internal world. Focusing your eyes on the sound without moving your body you find them. Swallowing down your offering the crows eye you.

Moving with exaggerated slowness you tear off two more morsels and toss them to the crows. The aim is off and they land in the snow on the floor of the porch. Beyond returning your hand to your lap you practice stillness. They take the offering. This continues, you tossing pancakes across the distance and them accepting. One of them offers a loud caw which causes you to jump. Both birds take flight at your sudden movement.

Cursing under your breath at your carelessness you stand. Taking the plate in hand you turn and scream, the plate flying out of your hands and into the deep drifts of snow next to the porch. John is watching you through the back door, blanket cocooned around his body. Two fingers wiggle from between the folds, motioning you in.

He steps back after opening the sliding door for you. He waits until you have stomped the snow off your boots on the rug set up for that purpose to ask you anything.

“Did that help?”

Pausing, a hand on the wall as you step on the back of one boot you send him a look.

He points with his chin toward the little crow prints in the snow.

“The birds. Did they help?”

Help? Help what? You feel less like you were dying? Help this place feel less like a prison and more like a hospice?

You study his face, attempting to parse out what question he asked below the one he spoke. In time you would see the him that harmed. It happened with every member of staff at Scorpio. Never trust their smiles, always trust their eyes had been the mantra, creed passed to each new beta. John’s eyes held only neutral curiosity. Nodding once, you focused on removing your boots.

“I’ll get you bird food for them the next time we are in town,” John nodded once and wandered away to the bathroom most likely from where he headed.

Setting your coat on a hook next to the door you trailed him with your eyes. You wondered once again what Kate had been thinking when she dropped you off here.

Before you could decide on her motives Johnny appeared at the top of the stairs. With a pair of sweats and a pullover hoodie, he had much more clothes on than the last man to leave that room. His hand gripped the railing tight as he gingerly worked his body down each step. Simon must be a rough lover through his ruts. Shuddering with memories veiled under the cast of drugs you didn’t notice Johnny getting closer until the smell of sex washed through your nose.

“You’re wearing it,” he sighed as if you had lifted a burden from him by doing so.

Folding your arms across it you glare at him.

“It was a gift,” you reply tersely.

A hand is lifted, finger crooked as if to brush down your arm. Johnny pulls back before touching you. Mixed feelings rise. You would have bit him if he tried to touch you but a part of you screamed to the point of vomiting when he didn’t connect.

A gentle smile breaks over his face, dawn over the desert, as his gaze finds yours.

“It is a gift. I’m glad you like it.”

Your stomach flipped over in its limited space in your body. Squeezing yourself tight you fight down the beta urge to lick him, to suck the scent of sex from his gland and into yourself.

Movement from behind him has you glancing at John who had returned settled a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and a kiss to his temple.

“Leave her be, we need to get food ready for lunch. Can you show her how to load the stove? The latch is being tricky again.”

Johnny leaned into the touch, clearly comforted by the contact. His eyes drifted lazily along the wall as he listened.

It didn’t make any sense to you. John and Johnny were both omegas, their scents confirmed it again and again, but they never acted like any of the omegas you had dealt with. Acting as equals often, even to their alpha counterparts, it confused you why they all allowed John to lead them. They broke every rule that had been beaten into you.

Nodding, Johnny turned and dropped a kiss on John’s lips before heading to the stove. John shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cupboards and pulling out various items.

“Hey Sprinkles, come on over. The stove needs fed.”

Looking around the room you try and figure out who Johnny might be talking to. When you lift a brow at him he grins, wide and mischievous.

“Yes, you. The shawl makes you look like a bowl of rainbow sprinkles. Now come on, let’s get this done and then you can tell me what you enjoy doing so we can find you something to fill your day with.”

Joining Johnny at the stove you learn how to open, feed, clean, and start a fire to warm the house up. The explanations he gave were clear and concise. You fed a few pieces in, confidence growing with each word of praise from his lips.

When the door is closed and the living spaces much warmer you follow Johnny into the kitchen. A pot with a lid not sitting fully on simmered away and a bowl with a towel sat in the corner. On the main part of the counter, a large platter of meats, cheeses, nuts, fruits, and vegetables drew in the eye.

John shoveled food into his mouth before disappearing with a nod. Kyle appeared next, smelling of sex too. He ate with the same ravenous hunger Johnny and John showed. You picked at your food, slipping pieces of cheese and cured meats into your pockets to hide for later.

After both men had gorged themselves on a meal they showed you where the TV and their collections of shows and movies lived. The newest one you recognized had been from nine years ago. Ads had been playing for it before you ended up with Scorpio. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you detour to place your extras in your pillow. After the men go to sleep tonight you would find a safer way of storing the food.

Curling into the corner of the couch to watch a show that looked interesting the men gave you a cushion as space as they twined around one another. Sometime later John replaced Johnny on the couch and you drifted in a half-awake state ignoring the throbbing need between your legs that spiked with each heady draft that reached your nose when the men took their shifts with Simon.

This routine went on for two days. They were such long days.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

@lucienofthelakes @gg-trini @talia-the-gemini @thriving-n-jiving @z-wantstowrite @asialovesyou09 @literallegendicon @canthavetoomuchchaos @reinekoya @jsptmoche @demothers-empty-blog @hbaasaad @sun-daddy-yoriichi @wiciclesatmidnight @kaoyamamegami @little-mini-me-world @corvid007 @skeletonsucker @feyresqueen

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teletubbyinlipstick · 6 months ago

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Kiss Me More, Please.

Artemis. R.

Guys, idk what to say lmao, I've been obsessed with these men mostly thanks to @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts , the ultimate legend. This one's for the hoes fr

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a balmy Sunday, grey clouds hanging low, creating a dense fog. You had just been transferred from the states to an elite task force in Europe. Delightful. At 24, you had made a name for yourself as a sniper, over 20 kills with 6 badges of honor to show for it it was no wonder you eventually got sent to higher rankings.

You just didn't realize those rankings would be in a pack with 2 alphas and 2 betas. As an omega, it puts you on edge a bit to share such intimate spaces with alphas. But, being completely honest with yourself, you can't deny they smell heavenly. John Price, the pack alpha, had a woodsy pine, undertones of cigar, and mint made a head spinning concoction, and you embarrassingly whined high in your throat when scenting him for the first time.

The other alpha, Simon Riley, was a bit…harder to gauge a reaction. He was never mean, if a bit standoffish, at the dining hall he always made your tray and carried it for you. He held doors open, a protective hand on your back when guiding you places. He smells of cedar and eucalyptus, a faint patchouli pulling through.

God, why did these alphas smell so fucking addicting.

Kyle Garrick was a sweet beta, with kind eyes, strong wide shoulders, and, in your professional opinion, one of the finest asses known to man. He was so sweet and open, he helped you put up tapestries in your room (with explicit permission as invading an omegas den could end badly) , always gave you extra snacks during training, Kyle was a true man through and through. He smelled of vetiver and amber noir. When you shoved your nose into his neck to get more, you picked up a tang…citrus.

It wasn't your fault you usually ended up having to change your panties after hanging with him.

Johnny MacTavish was the last one you met, a strong level-headed beta with a feisty sense of humor and a very good shoulder to cry on. He might've been the last to meet you but certainly the one you bonded to the quickest. He liked to sling you over his shoulder and take off through the training post your delighted giggles chiming through the wind. He was your go-to movie cuddle buddy, and he always had an open space on his lap for you. He smelled so fucking divine bonsai, cloves and an allspice lavender, anytime youre within his vicinity it usually ends with you in his lap, drunk of his scent and purring loudly. The smell of lilies, cinnamon, and chamomile wafted from you; it was soothing and the answering rumble from the betas chest had your omega preening.

It's hard not to crush on him.

It's been almost 2 and a half months since you arrived. Tf141 made it very clear their intentions on you by week 3, declaring they wanted you as their pack omega. They wanted to spoil you, protect you, and provide for you. The sudden declaration was sprang up by Johnny over a random breakfast at the table. You had gazed wide-eyed at all of them, almost like a deer in headlights.

“I...um…I need to think about it…” Truthfully, you really didn't. You knew you wanted them. All of them. It was nerve-wracking you were younger, a bit more inexperienced in life and romance. What if they ended up hating you? Or being annoyed at your unknowing? What if you gave them your heart so beautifully beating, and they gave it right back, stabbed through with 4 shiny knives.

You're unsure if you could live with that.

So going on week 6 of being on task force, week 3 of confession, you have yet to give them an answer. It was crude of you, you knew it. But it was hard to form the words, hard to speak when your heart swelled to your throat and lodged itself there. Leaving you breathless and fumbling; spewing out nonsense in hopes of adoration.

Right now was one of those moments you were sitting across from Price, fiddling with your fingers as you both gazed at each other in silence. You knew why you were called in here. You knew they wanted-deserved- an answer.

"Come here, y/n." Your breath hitched, oh god, his voice. Deep, barretoned words woven with an authoritative spike. You felt too hot, too seen under his intense gaze. Swallowing the lump forming, you gathered what small ounces of courage you could. Straightening your spine under the alpha's eyes.

"No." It came out more steady than you expected, and if the raised eyebrow of John was anything to go by, he wasn't expecting the answer. It emboldened you, made you feel taller, bigger than the man in front of you almost.

"No?"

"No. You come to me…please” And oh boy, did he take it as the invitation it was, eyes twinkling in amusement, something darker brewing in them. He pushed himself up from the chair, walking round the desk to stand directly in front of you. Your head tilted back to stare up at him, mouth parted as the courage left you in a swoop.

John's hand grazed across your jaw, thumb trailing down your throat before cupping your cheek. It was nerve-wracking, being in the presence of a God with nothing but mortal thoughts to shield you.

"The last time I was told no, I tore the man's throat out where he stood." A gasp left you, tensing just slightly under his palm. Was it a threat? Was it even true?? Maybe you read the room wrong. Maybe he was sizing you up. It's not like you had to wonder long. He tutted, pulling you from your thoughts as his other hand swept stray hair from your face.

"I find you enrapturing, Y/N we all do. You have bewitched us. And I would let you say anything to me. Anything. And now I'm asking you to please say how you feel. You know we want you, we see you as our omega. But we want you to want us. Do you?” You didn't know what to say, speechless in the hands of a prophet. The way he spoke was hypnotizing, and you leaned into his touch, hands grazing up his muscular chest until you cupped his jaw on both sides. Tugging him down, and my my my did he bend to your whims. Noses bumped together, breaths mingling, and you looked into his eyes.

"I-I…want you guys too. I want to be the pack omega” A stuttered breath in from the alpha in front of you had that flame of courage coming back full force. You gripped him harder, tilting your child up.

“Kiss me, please." A huff of air, and he was on you, kissing you so sensually, so sweetly you wondered if you would drown in its bliss. It was as cliche as every romance book ever said, wanton and needy with touch of his lips on yours. And God wasn't it unfair? To have euphoria in human form, holding you, kissing you like you hung the stars.

And when he finally pulled back, both of you panting, foreheads pressing against each other. You only had one thought.

"Kiss me more, please."

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ficsiwanttoreadyesterday · 24 days ago

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I just can't today. I genuinely cannot understand girls or women who think it's okay to bully male cosplayers. And all because they're cosplaying from books. When I asked one of them why, it's because apparently men aren't allowed to as it's a predominantly female space. I'm sorry but when the fuck did reading become a female only thing. It's like saying girls can't cosplay as their favourite anime character or their favourite video game character because it's from predominantly male spaces. I'm sorry, but please explain to me how that doesn't just make you a bully.

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bigassmoonchild · 2 years ago

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The Aftermath

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2k

The first part does give context, but isn’t required for this read.

Summary: You knew the difficulty the process of being a mated Omega in the military. You understood how much you would lose, but you never thought about the difficulty in your normal life. Never thought about the panic you would have, or how much it would effect you and Ghost's personal relationship.

Content Tags: Hospitals, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I was not expecting such a good response to Maple Syrup, and since y'all seemed to like it so much here's basically the next part. Let me know if you want anything specific, my asks should be open. <3 I'm adding a 'keep reading' link to make sure you can scroll on if you want.

Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Everything felt wrong. Ghost wasn't injured, but he was being held overnight in the medbay. The Maple Syrup had run its course through him, but he could hear chatter echoing in the room. He could smell you, you weren't too far from him but he wasn't allowed to see you. Price had come in not too long after the doctors had checked him over and cleared him, arms crossed as he sat in the chair next to the bed Ghost was in.

"We'll need to talk, you know," was the only thing Price had said, leaning back and relaxing in the chair.

"Is the Doc okay?" Ghost asked, looking in the direction your scent was coming from. The sickly sweet smell of heat was becoming stale, but you were on lock and key just in case any Alpha soldiers tried to come in. Price looked in the same direction, giving a faint shrug.

"I'm going to be updated once she's steady enough for the doctors to leave her alone," Price said. "Gaz is on watch outside her room," Ghost nodded. Gaz was a Beta, so it would be fine for him to be that close. Ghost still didn't like it, he didn't know how his pack was, where everyone was, if everyone was safe.

It took a few hours, it was well past midnight before any movement came from the direction of your room. The curtains surrounding Ghosts bed was moved, the Doctor gesturing for Price to follow him. Ghost had tried to listen in, but it wasn't worth it. He was still in mild pain from the mission, the place where the tranq had stabbed him still throbbed every so often.

Price walked back in some time later, looking at Ghost with a sigh. That didn't make him feel good, panic started to flow through him, thoughts of you dying flashed in his mind for a few moments.

"She's gonna be fine," Price started. "They got her heat back under control, they're just waiting for it to finish cycling through her. Outside of that, she's fine," Price sat next to Ghost. "I can't ask you about what happened. I can only tell you what will happen," he looked away.

You woke up, head foggy and throbbing with a headache. You could see a form moving next to you, checking your vitals. You gave a soft groan, your neck throbbing alongside your core. Everything hurt, but you weren't able to tell if it was everything.

"You finally waking up?" The voice asked, and you could recognize it. "You've been out for a few days, you've even had Ghost trying to get in," she giggled a little. Amanda. That was her name, she was one of the nurses you'd been working with prior to the mission that went south.

At the mention of Ghost, you sat upright, vision spinning before righting itself.

"It was a really bad heat you were sent into, y'know. Took us a few hours to stabilize you, but you're doing good for yourself," she smiled, trying to lay you back down but you pushed her off of you.

"I need to talk to him," god even your throat hurt. She nodded slowly, sticking her head out of the door. You rubbed your head, headache now making you feel sick. It took a few moments, but you heard footsteps come in the room, a figure standing next to you. When you looked up, it was Price.

"There are some procedures we need to go through. I've already got some officers in, but we still need to talk about what happened," Price started, moving to sit in the chair near you. "Ghost has already spoken with them, so it'll be you, me and the officers. I think Laswell has flown in as well," you stared at Price.

With a few blinks, you looked down to think. Ghost had already spoken with the officers? You knew what the rules were like, and you knew that your career was now in his hands. It pissed you off, if you could really focus on feeling much outside of pain.

"The officers are trying to get him to make a decision on your career. I can't let you two talk about anything yet, the Adjutant Officers still need to figure things out before you'll be allowed near each other," Price looked away, your jaw tensing. You really had no rights anymore, did you?

It took another few days before you were released. The second you had clothes of your own to wear, you were gone off into your room.

Someone had been here. You could smell a stale scent, but you weren't able to place it. It was too distant to be able to decipher, but your room was exactly the same as it had been left before you were hospitalized. You didn't feel comfortable in your room, knowing someone had been here.

A knock on the door made you spin, nerves set tight. As you opened the door, a large figure came into view.

"Doc," Ghost started, before being yanked into your room and having the door slammed behind him. You turned on him, staring at him sharply. You pointed, opening your mouth before shutting it and groaning, running hands through your hair.

You kept trying to start talking before you stopped yourself, eventually kicking at the wall in irritation.

"What did you say to them?" You hissed, back still turned and facing the wall. You could hear him shift behind you, boots scuffing against the ground. You turned, storming up to him, chest to chest. "What the hell did you tell them? You gonna dismantle my career? Make me some fucking house-omega?" You were growling now, you could feel your muscles tensing.

When he didn't respond, you groaned, tossing your hands up in defeat and walking away from him. You turned, hand on your hip, waiting for a response.

"I don't want to take your career away," he whispered, finally. You barked a laugh, rubbing your wrist against your bitten gland. His hand reached out to grab you, but you moved away from him. "I don't want to make decisions for you," he added, voice growing more desperate.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from your gland and shaking them out. Ghost reached out to you again, hand catching your shoulder before you shrugged him off.

"I don't know what to do," you whispered. "I'm terrified, because now I'm outed to so many people, and there's quite literally nothing I can do to save myself," you turned to look at Ghost.

He scoffed. "You think I'm going to ruin things for you? I've already told you, I don't want that kind of control over you," he looked away, crossing his arms. You could smell the distress on him.

"You have done shit to make me trust you!" Your voice raised before dropping, a hand running down your face. "I have zero control left, you know how many rights I have as a mated Omega?" He shook his head. "None," you glared at him.

Ghost glanced at you before looking away again. He shook his head, moving to leave before you blocked the door from him.

"You don't get to walk out when we're talking," you growled at him and he growled back.

"This isn't a conversation, this is you getting all pissy on me," he loomed over you, forcing you to take a step back. "I didn't want this to happen, I would have chosen any other way to save us, but we didn't get a choice, did we?" You looked away.

"Get out,"

He could smell the distress on you the second he spoke. Your scent left him spiraling, he was panicking. His Omega was distressed, and he was the cause. He wanted to fix it, correct the problem and make you happy again.

Ghost could do nothing when you repeated yourself.

"Get the hell out," you glared at him. Ghost opened his mouth to give you a retort, but you had turned away. He bit his tongue, turning to stare at the door.

"You know that's not what I meant," he whispered, opening the door and leaving.

Even after walking aimlessly for ten minutes, he could still smell your distress on your scent, the sour taste stuck on the back of his throat. This wasn't how he had intended to talk to you, he wanted to make a plan for when they asked him more questions regarding your career.

Ghost was pissed off, more so with himself than you, but he wanted to comfort you. Fix what he had said, take it back.

But he had a meeting to attend, and he needed to make sure he didn't say anything wrong.

You sat in the conference room, Price, Laswell and an Adjutant officer sitting across from you. This was the third time you'd gone over what had happened.

"So you say this 'Maple Syrup' is what caused Ghost to go into a feral rut?"

"Yes," you deadpanned, glaring through the Adjutant. "We've already been through all of this, there is literally nothing else that I haven't told you," the Adjutant hummed.

"We need to make sure everything is covered," he told you, looking at the paper he had been writing on for the past hour and a half.

You looked at Price, hoping he would help you in any way. He looked away, leaning further back into his seat.

"What about my career?" The room went silent, the Adjutant stopped reading, glancing over at Price who had finally looked at you. "I want to know what's happening," you whispered. The last few days had left you unsure of yourself. You wanted to confront Ghost, you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, you wanted to fix what you'd said.

None of them spoke, Laswell had opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers tapped on the table, looking at Price and the Adjutant.

She looked back at you. "You aren't allowed to make any decisions regarding that, you know," your head dropped back with a groan, wrist rubbing against your bitten gland roughly. You were terrified, you didn't know what the future was going to hold.

You had so little control and it was getting worse. You stood abruptly, going to walk out the door before Price spoke.

"Would you like to speak with Ghost?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. With people around, you wouldn't snap on him, but you also didn't want to see him since his last remarks. You really needed to know if you still worked here, or if he was going to force you to become a house-omega.

You nodded, turning around and sitting back down while staring Price down as he made a phone-call. A few moments later, Ghost walked in and sat beside you, but you still couldn't look at him. It was silent for a few minutes, everyone looking at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

"You still have a job here," Ghost spoke up. "I didn't let them remove you, but they won't allow you on missions anymore," he added the last part quietly. You nodded.

You could hear Price and Laswell ushering the Adjutant Officer out of the room, the door closing with a click behind them. Neither you nor Ghost talked for a few minutes, you could smell a certain level of stress on him.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing quickly at him. He was staring at you, eyes watching your every twitch and shudder. "I'm... sorry, for the other day," you fiddled with your fingers. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ghost shook his head, hesitating before grabbing your hand, pulling it close to him and in turn tugging you towards him. You finally turned to look at him, and his eyes visibly softened.

He looked down, then back up to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. Not in the way I did," he tugged you even closer to him, nuzzling into your gland. "I don't regret having you as my mate now, but if I could've changed what I did, you wouldn't be stuck with me making decisions for you now," you leaned in to him, pressing your face into his chest.

It relaxed you, his scent, and allowed you to think much clearer.

"I'm just so scared,"

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noisydelusionlove · 5 months ago

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Masterlist

Pairings: Poly141xOriginal Character, GhostxOriginal Character, GhostXSoap, GhostXGaz, SoapxOriginal Character, GazxOrginal Character, PricexOriginal Character, PricexGaz, PricexSoap, SoapxGaz

Warnings: Medical inaccuracies, military inacuracies, smut, violence, A/B/O Dynamics

To be added to the tag list please comment on this post linked HERE.

This post is where the idea stemmed from, my little brain worm if you will.

Also on AO3 now.

🔥= Contains Smut

Chapter 1: We Need a Medic

Chapter 2: Meeting the Pack🔥

Chapter 3: Settling In🔥

Chapter 4: Another Day

Chapter 5: Exams pt1

Chapter 6: Exams pt2

Chapter 7: Exams pt3

Chapter 8: The Mission

Chapter 9: Night Out

Chapter 10: Aftermath (Ghoap)🔥

Chapter 11: Incoming Heat and an Apex

Chapter 12: Getting Closer

Chapter 13: Kneeling

Chapter 14: A Date With Gaz

Chapter 15: 2 Betas and 1 Omega🔥

Chapter 16: Sparring

Chapter 17: A Date With Soap🔥

Chapter 18: A Date With Ghost pt1

Chapter 19: A Date With Ghost pt2 🔥

Chapter 20:Incoming Heat Problems

Chapter 21: Heat pt 1 🔥

Chapter 22: Heat pt 2 🔥

Chapter 23: Heat pt 3 🔥

Silver heart knot divider by @tsunami-of-tears

MDNI divider by @arlerts-angel

Header by me

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spitbullets · 9 months ago

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@soapfcrce said... wanna see what i have on underneath? ( rip simon)

In a word... yes. Yes, he absolutely did want to see. He had heard that the proper thing to wear under a kilt was actually to wear nothing at all but that seemed almost too good to be true. Besides, the Scots were always talking a big talk. Heritage, masculinity, that sort of bullshit. But right now he so hoped it was true. He'd been staring all evening, watching the hem of Johnny's kilt flirt with just barely covering his knees. The tightly wound muscles of his legs peeking out here and there. Ghost had never considered himself a 'thigh guy' until this very moment.

He licked his lips slowly under his mask, trying to think of something to say that didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit curious. You offering me a peek, eh Johnny?"

#soapfcrce #Haunted; Ghost #verse; call of duty

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ink-n-shadow · 5 months ago

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*keysmash* ABO pack!141 is chef's kiss amazing! I especially love how you made Johnny the Omega. Maybe reader is the good girl Omega to counteract Johnny's brattiness? (I would love you forever if you wrote that pretty pretty please)

don't mind me, just leaving another slightly self-indulgent a/b/o smut

BAD DOG

𝜗𝜚 the one where omega!johnny's been bad

𝜗𝜚 pairing: pack!141 x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), brat!johnny, punishments, fingering (reader!receiving), oral (reader!receiving), johnny referred to as a dog, leash/collar use, you're being rewarded

johnny (just like reader) has his good days and bad days. some days he’s the sweetest and most patient boy, like sometimes simon doesn’t even have to breathe a word for johnny to do what he’s told—simon just gives him a slight quirk of the brow, and johnny’s scrambling to be at his side. these are the days johnny’s rewarded handsomely, bundled up against simon’s side or nuzzled in price’s lap and practically melting at the feeling of blunt nails scratching at his scalp and the gruff sounds of praise dripping from one of his alphas lips. sometimes when he’s been this good, he gets to either fill you up without consequence or play with you to his heart’s content.

but these good days (at least for johnny) are usually few and far between because lets face it: johnny’s a masochistic brat, especially when he’s in heat. he acts like a feral mutt whenever the muzzle comes out, but the second it’s as secured around his mouth as the cage around his cock is, he’s sitting pretty and trying not to drool at the way his sensitive tip presses against the metal with each throb of his cock. he secretly loves how quickly his brain shuts off, eyes growing heavy and tongue lapping at his chapped lips with every heavy pant of breath.

the only punishment johnny doesn’t like is when he’s slotted between simon’s thigh, tethered to the alpha’s large hand with a chain leash and collar and forced to face forward towards one of the beds in your shared bedrooms. price has you splayed out with your back against his chest, your thighs wrenched apart by his own and his hand stuffing three fingers inside of your slick hole. there’s a creamy froth surrounding where your arousal ended and price’s fingers began, the only evidence of johnny’s misdeed. with each twist and roll of price’s fingers deeper and deeper inside of you, a silky mixture of your slick and johnny’s cum drips from between your thighs, and if it wasn’t for kyle’s tongue lapping earnestly at both your slick skin and price’s drenched fingers, the sheets beneath you would be more ruined than they currently are.

johnny hates having to sit there and watch, held in place by the leash and simon’s heated gaze on the back of his neck. he can’t help himself sometimes and tries to inch himself closer to the footboard, only for simon to pull harder on the leash and send him fumbling backwards into the alpha’s lap.

“the fuck you think you’re doin’, mutt? been a bad dog today, ‘member? bad dogs don’t get treats, so sit,” and the gravel to simon’s words have johnny sitting up straighter, keeping his sniveling to a minimum as he watches you fall apart around price’s fingers and against kyle’s tongue.

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

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miss-vanta-likes-to-write · 2 months ago

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The Book of Yemoja

18+ mdni, please check master list for the content warnings

Master list

Chapter 1: Noctilucous - shining at night.

I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime

Tell them, tell 'em, tell them the truth

I hope you find some paradise (tell them, tell 'em the truth)

Tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em, tell them your-

“Captain Price, I'm afraid that if you try to separate them too soon, Kyle may go into shock.” The psychiatrist tries to gently explain. “Not to mention the young woman that is with him.”

John stares at his pack's omega and he feels like a failure. They thought he was killed in action. Gone from them for good. He's ashamed that he was ready to write it all off despite Soap saying he could feel it in his soul that Kyle wasn't lost. He doesn't even try to pretend to be concerned about anyone else other than his Kyle. Yeah, it's nice that this woman managed to save him. What's not nice is the unhealthy codependency. They orbit each other, always within arms reach, growling whenever someone gets too close. When one sleeps, the other keeps watch. They never eat at the same time or even eat the same food. John can't imagine what kind of hellish abuse happened to where neither of them will eat together.

Right now, both of them are lying on the bed. There are soft whispered words between the two of them. They lay in each other's arms, tracing soothing patterns on each other. Kyle has his back facing the observation window. He's hiding her. While Kyle was worse for wear when they found him, the girl was feral and extremely violent. It's clear that she's not all there, but there are moments where John swears she's clairvoyant and is always three steps ahead of the staff that has been tasked with watching them.

She counts a lot. She counts the amount of grapes in the bowl from their lunch. She counts the number of tiles on the ceiling and walls. She counts how many staff members pass the doorway window. John is sure she is keeping count of time, but he isn't sure how because there's no clock in the room, but she always makes sure she is up at each shift change.

“I guess she's stuck with us for now.” John sighs, turning away from the two way mirror.

I've been goin' through somethin'

One thousand, eight hundred and 55 days

I've been goin' through somethin'

Be afraid

Heat. Blistering itchy heat. Kyle wants to crawl out of his skin. It's so bad. The cold stone floor does little to give him relief. He imagines in his mind that Johnny will tease him. Nip at the bond mark on his neck, finger him open, and then slowly push himself into him. A sweet joining of flesh to prepare him for John and Simon. It would then be a week of non-stop fucking, and at the end he would he would be pleasantly sore.

“Suppressants aren't-” a voice says through the thick fog of his concussion and heat addled brain.

There's growling coming from above his body. A weight presses down on him, and it feels like when Simon lays on him. A weighted blanket that's growling and hissing. There's a clang and the sound of glass shattering. Pained grunts and muffled shouts.

“Fuck! Sedate-” another voice is yelling and it makes his head hurt. Then it's all quiet or he thinks it's quiet.

“You're okay.” A soft voice that sounds like it has swallowed rocks says to him. A warm hand touches him, and he hisses. “We'll get through this.”

He opens his eyes, and the splitting headache he has only gets worse. Her eyes are wild like a caged animal, hair a matted mess. Despite this, she gives the visage of a bright light shining dimly in the dark of night (he is delirious with pain and heat). He's about to close his eyes again, but she taps him on the cheek.

“Hey, stay up. You have to stay up.” She moves him and holds him close to her breast. “Are you in heat? How long does it last?”

“Six or seven days.” He manages to croak out. Promptly after everything becomes a blur and haze.

His body doesn't feel like it's his own, but his inner omega feels good. The heat in his body is still blistering, but right now, the edge is being taken off. He grips at the flesh of her hips as he rocks into her body. He almost never is on top. His own dick never really enters any of his alphas. It's always him on the bottom, so this feels different. She's got the smooth column of her neck bared, submitting to him fully. His body bends over her, and his hips work into her, trying to desperately find relief. His dick is covered in an obscene amount of her slick, and it's mixing with his own.

He whines, a guttural sound coming from his chest. He pants when he kisses her, bites at her lips, and shoves his tongue into her mouth. She sucks on his tongue and moans into the kiss. Her nails are bitten to the quick drag along his skin, and there won't be any scratches or welts on him. He still likes the feeling all the same. Somewhere in his mind he knows this isn't what his body of craving, he craves a knot, he desires to be ruined in the only way Simon can, to be choked and have his Captain’s beard leave a tingling feeling across his skin, to feel the jackhammer of Johnny's hips against his own.

This. Two omegas fucking. It feels like too needy pups that just discovered what sex was and didn't want to commit to the act with an alpha.

But fuck if it doesn't feel good. It feels wet. It feels hot. It feels like the frayed edges of his mind are being cooled. It feels good to dominate her body and flesh.

When his heat breaks on the last day, he finally is lucid. The two of them are in a tangle of limbs. Sweaty bodies pressed close together at the far side of their cell. They don't bother with clothes. The thin, scratchy blanket that covers them is enough for now. She keeps her back towards the cell door, and he faintly realizes she is trying to hide him.

“What's your name?” His eyes feel heavy with sleep. Voice raw from voicing his pleasure. “My name is Kyle.”

She is quiet as she stares back at him. He is a little unnerved by how she doesn't answer right away. Instead, a small smile graces her cracked lips, and he thinks about the dangers of dehydration. She has not, to his memory, drank enough water, and she certainly only allows him a few sips here and there. Her fingers trace over his cheekbones and lips. Hands cupping his face with reverence, almost like she can't believe that someone else is in here with her.

It's a long moment of silence, and he is drifting off to sleep now. “How many days has it been?” He asks. He is trying to get her to talk. One of the first things to go as a POW is sanity. Maybe hers is already gone?

“It's been two weeks.” She tells him. “They put it in the air…I'm sorry.”

“Hm?” He cracked open his eyes, “I just got here.”

“No. The suppressants and sedatives were put in the air when I wouldn't let them inject you.”

He lost time. A big mistake, a rookie one at that. He can already hear Captain scolding him. He takes a deep breath. The come down from his heat is pulling him under into sleep. He needs it so that he can figure out with a clear head on how to escape and get back to his pack.

Before his fitful sleep finds him, he hears her speak again.

“Call me Yemoja.”

Everybody grieves different.

I grieve different.

Huh.

a.n: hello everyone. I plan on making you all hurt in this one. Love you. 😘

Song: United in grief. Kendrick Lamar

Tag list: @uraeus56 @littlelovebug98 @mochroialainn @gazsluckyhat @chickennuggetuwu @beloveds-embrace @leahnicole1219 @curiouslittleprincess

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resident-idiot-simp · 4 months ago

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😇

👉👈

#memes #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #poolverine #wade x logan #deadclaw #deadclaws #ghost x soap #ghope #wendi!verse

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cyanidedrinkers · 9 months ago

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Omega!Ghost fic?? Maybe??

Concept: Omega!Ghost who worked his ass off to get to his rank Omega!Ghost who refused to be a 'pack Omega' Omega!Ghost who clawed at his scent glands so much his scent is disturbing to others and almost sickening. He finds it hard to keep it under control and has to wear blockers just to keep others from having panic attacks or vomiting when around him. Omega!Ghost who got the name 'Ghost' from how pale people turned when around him. "It's almost as if they've seen a ghost" Alpha!Soap who finds Ghosts scent pleasant and comforting. Alpha!Gaz who's been trying to get close to Ghost and get him to open up since he joined the 141 only to be pushed away and snapped at. Alpha!Price who is the only one that can get close enough to Ghost without being yelled at. Omega!Ghost who has to wear a collar to keep his instincts intact. Due to his damaged scent glands he has to wear a collar made for Feral!Omega's so he doesnt attack anyone he smells. 141 not realizing that Ghost doesnt have a scent gland, or at least a very damaged one, and assumes Ghost just covers his scent up very well. Omega!Ghost being used as a weapon since Roba and who's gotten so used to just being used as a killing machine he's forgotten what it's like to be loved and cared for. The 141 who needs Ghost. It kills them all how distant their Omega is but they respect it and find ways around their brains screaming at them to protect and coddle him. Omega!Ghost who doesnt realize that he needs the others intel it's to late and they've all given up on trying to bond with him. Omega!Ghost who steals things with their scents on it to keep himself company as he nests during heat. Omega!Ghost who watches as the others try to find another Omega to bond too and just cries silently behind his balaclava. Who desperately wants to let them know. Omega!Ghost Simon Riley who wants to scent each and everyone of them. Omega!Ghost who refuses to co-operate with any new Omega they bring in to replace him so they all just leave 141 getting upset with Ghost every single time Simon Riley who, After a fight with the others, Rips off his collar and locks himself in his room. His scent, Pouring out the doors making everyone sick. Simon Riley, Who when found is bloody and crying. His attempt to rip out his scent gland for the second time failing leaving him a cold and bloody mess on his bathroom floor. Omega!Ghost who ends up getting his Scent glands fixed finally realizing how much he needs his pack and, Slowly, Scenting each one of them. Domestic 141 who have long since retired watching as their little pups run around and play fight with each other.

Is this a yay or a nah in the A/B/O COD community??

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saltykoalamusic · 2 months ago

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Someone willl be like "this is the worst character ever, I hate them, most of the fandom hates them, they are hideous, awful, I pray on their downfall, make hate posts about them" and then 8/10 times proceed to show either a woman, a child/teenager or a minority.

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

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Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #no use of y/n #canon typical violence #fights #Protective Ghost #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #reader insert #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #i got to season 4 #i hope you guys like it #Maple Syrup

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