leebythegodsside

[leebythegodsside]

You and Ghost seducing Gaz, finally getting your pretty boy right where you want him, and the lieutenant is holding him back. Big, burly form pressed against Kyle, one large hand on his chest, the other stroking his dick; the teasing fuck smirking, whispering the dirtiest, filthiest shit, accent heavy, voice husky, trying Gaz's patience and sending your pretty baby into a tailspin. "Pretty sight, ain't it?" Ghost asks, smugness emanating off his question in droves. Of course it is. Of course you are.

Fuck yes is what Gaz wants to say.

But he's thisclose to fuckin' losing it and cracking his Lt.'s jaw. He's so pent up, the adrenaline's rushing, the nuance of morality is pissing him off like always, and the fact that you're both keeping him in place, preventing him from fucking your pretty mouth is the icing on the cake. Kyle can't speak for shit, the pleasure's too much, you two ain't stopping any time soon, and he doesn't know if he should be pissed off some more or just... let it happen. Shit.

It's you, eyes glossy, looking up at your boys, pretty lips shiny and swollen as you make love to Kyle's cock, as you kiss and suck on the head, never going too much further, relishing in that push and pull as he tries to buck into your mouth, and Simon, ready as always, holding Gaz back, making him come undone in your mouth as he feels his Lt.'s hard, clothed cock nestled comfortably against his ass.

Pretty sight, ain't it?

[leebythegodsside]

Gaz talking you through it because you’re too far gone to tell him how good he’s fucking you. He knows, baby. He knows. Feels it, too. You’re shaking, spasming around him, and you’re trying your hardest to get away from him, but he won’t let you, darling. Nah. You gotta see this through, beautiful.

Now cum on his dick.

[leebythegodsside]

get a guy who says "I know, baby" while you're cumming

[leebythegodsside]

hello hello, in the spirit of posting stuff even if I’m not gonna finish them, have this 🫡

this is violently medically inaccurate but pretend you don’t notice that haha

[leebythegodsside]

very good roomates manscaping together, stays together

alt:

[leebythegodsside]

I love your Gaz so much please anything with him

Man ive not written enough gaz😔 too focused on ghost...which ofc means the solution is to give gaz trauma

Gaz doesn't talk about his RTI training, prefers to leave that tucked away in his mind. But there's always that part of him that he can't shove down. It's subtle, hidden in the way he never turns down food, or how he gently situates himself to avoid casual touch in conversation.

No one on the team but Price knows about it, and even then the captain just knows that Kyle passed the course. He doesn't know that Kyle was the *only* one. He doesn't know the extreme methods the instructor used.

Then you come along, a fellow sergeant. Price respects his men's opinions, so he showed everyone your file and got their approval before bringing you on.

Of course kyle noticed it, of course he did.

The little star next to advanced RTI training, the note about which team you were coming from. The same team kyle was in when he took RTI. Its only because he lived it that kyle can see the signs in you.

Maybe thats why he goes out of his way to befriend you, maybe he wants to support you, maybe he just wants someone to understand him. Either way, the affect is the same. You grow close to kyle, almost always by his side when you can be, and he the same.

It's easier between you two, an understanding even if neither of you pointed it out. No need to, with the matching scars along your limbs and hips. You move into kyles barracks slowly, and he can actually sleep at night with the gentle presence you fill. Never quite touching, but occasionally your hands overlap, separated by sheets.

On mornings when kyle hardly feels like a person, like that concrete room is still around and inside him, you're there. A warm palm on his shoulder, gently guiding him to brush his teeth and get dressed. On nights when all you want to do is anything but sleep, kyle turns the lamplight on. He lets you hold his knife, isn't upset when you ask him to check his closet for the fourth time. Anything to make you feel safe.

No one can explain why, but kyle suddenly seems alot more alive with you around. Its...nice. sharing a part of himself that he for so long refused to aknowledge, shameful.

Kyle survived, you survived, and its only the fact you are both here that either of you are able to keep going.

[leebythegodsside]

Kyle is definitely the kind of dad who plays dad for a day whenever his kid has their friend along

Like I definitely imagine he raises a very emotionally intelligent, empathetic kid. The kind the can make friends with anyone, and they happen to make friends who don’t always want to go back to their own homes.

And he can clock it from a mile away. So he’s always inviting his kids friends along for outings— even if they worried they’re intruding on a “family” thing. Doesn’t matter if they can’t get money for an aquarium ticket— Kyle can handle that. And when it’s time for ice cream, everyone gets an ice cream. And what trip is really complete without a visit to the gift shop? His treat, yet again.

And if they’re a little younger, and someone needs a boost from him to see into an exhibit, he’s more than happy to lift them up.

His kid is never afraid to ask if a friend can sleep over, because his answer is always gonna be yes.

Always puts way too much stuff on the grill. Just in case someone wants to tag along. The kitchen drawers are full of Tupperware— when he’s in charge of the food, you take home as much as you want.

[leebythegodsside]

Whatever you do, do NOT think about how sad gender queer!price is....

Price has been married to you for nearly five years now, and all those five years have been misery. Not because he's married to you, no, it's because you're married to him. Or at least, the person you believe to be him.

Price doesn't like to think about himself these days, the man he is. Strong, masculine, a traditional husband in all rights. Usually he's able to ignore these...fantasies he has. Fantastical visions of a thick long skirt, or of a subtle shadow to his lids, or of a dazzling diamond sitting atop his finger just like the one he gave you.

It's a stupid desire, he knows. One that was born into him, that's always been with him. His mother made sure to stomp out the flame when she first discovered him. Four years old with powder-smudged fingers, his mother's eyeshadow palette on the floor, and his face done up in a child's imitation of his mother. He was so excited to show her how pretty he was, how his lips sparkled and his cheeks blushed just like hers when she laughed. He hadn't yet learned to be scared.

His mother called him sick.

From the ages of six to fourteen, John visited a psychiatrist twice a month. Sitting in the waiting room next to kids with violent tendencies and habits of self-mutilation. His psychiatrist was an older woman, with a stern face and cruel hands. It was under her care that John learned exactly what was wrong with him and how to fix it.

Her practice was shut down a few years after John left, detectives were finally able to get a testimony out of enough kids.

Then came the military, and with it the whirlwind of young men looking for their place in the world. John learned a lot there. How to blend in, how to throw back whiskey and talk to pretty birds in a low husk. Secretly, Price would pick out the women he saw a fragment of himself in. Blue eyes, dimples, brown hair. Price would watch them underneath him, writhing in pleasure, and pretend it was him who had taken their place. Him, a pretty girl with shiny makeup and silky hair, underneath a man or woman or someone who wanted to fuck a pretty girl.

Now he's here. Married, squared away as a respected captain with a loving wife. He should be happy. Why can't he be happy? It's that sickness in him. The same one he's been fighting for years, the one that tells him he isn't the man you think he is.

And it all comes spilling out one night, wrapped in your arms and delirious with how wrong he feels, how he hasn't fucked you in months, and yet you never so much as frown at him. He's crying, and you ask what's wrong, because you love him and he really wishes you didn't.

"Love, I'm not...im not the man you married. I'm...I'm sick–" he tries to explain, words choking up. This is the ugly part of him, the part he wishes desperately you didn't have to see.

"Sick?" You sound stricken, grabbing prices face to inspect him "Have you been to the doctors? Is it cancer? John are you–"

"No. No, love, not like that. This doesn't have a cure. I will always be like this."

He explains it to you in the same way his psychiatrist did all those years ago. A strange fascination with the feminine, a desire to change either socially or physically into a woman.

He has to bite down bile at the words, claw down the scared kid and brace for rejection once again. But instead of a biting hatred, John is met with a tender hand to his jaw. You lean down to kiss his forehead.

"I am not the same woman you married either, John. I'm scared of the dark now, I like to bake, I hate the ocean.

You are not the same man I married, either, are you? You don't smoke as much, you like to sing in the mornings, you laugh more. I fall in love with a new person every day, and it's always as electrifying and spectacular as the first time."

Price swallows thickly, a great wave of tenderness falling over him. It takes him a long time after that to really believe you, but the next time that dizzying wave of want comes over him, he doesn't have to fight it down. Gently brushing makeup on that you helped pick out, walking down into the kitchen where you greet him with a "there's my pretty wife! How are you, John?"

[leebythegodsside]

Rommy i am hungry for more of that yummy yummy abused shifter reader and it cannot be satisfied by anything else

You got it boss🫡👍 [part one here]

Kyle doesn't know what to do with you. He's interacted with plenty of shifters in his life, many of them dogs, but none like you. Ghost prefers to stay in his dog form, lounging around and occasionally indulging in some pets. Soap shifts pretty fluidly between both, but is more often in his human form.

With them, it's pretty easy to know what they want. Common etiquette states to treat shifters as humans, talking with them as equals, unless explicitly asked otherwise. Ghost pretty early on made his preference known by shifting into his dog form and climbing all over Gaz after he suffered a nasty injury. He likes getting pets and being left alone, but hates baby talk. Soap, on the other hand, hates being pet unless it's after a very rough mission, and expects to be treated like a person no matter the form.

Then there's you. A shifter, obviously, but Kyle has yet to ever even see your shifted form. No, you're always a human. Even when you seem to tense up and shrink away when anyone touches you, and you growl nervously in crowds.

You obviously act more like a dog than person, so why don't you shift? Isn't it uncomfortable making those growls and whines without the proper vocal chords? You fold in on yourself so often, like you want to be smaller, so what's stopping you?

So he asks you one day. Lying on one of the couches in the rec room, you sitting stiffly right on the edge of another. "Hey, question for you," he waits until you look at him, "I don't mean to be rude but uh- is there a reason you don't shift?"

You're quiet for a long moment, face blank. Finally, you ask "...am I allowed to?"

Kyle has to shove down his knee-jerk reaction to 'allowed', remind himself that you're from America, and there's probably social context he's missing. So instead of telling you this isn't the fucking 1800s Kyle just nods.

You smile the first smile he's seen since you arrived, and in the blink of an eye, a German shepherd lies where you once were. You're a big dog by shifter standards, but a bit on the smaller side compared to the anomalies that are ghost and soap, fur scruffy and teeth sharp.

You hop down from the couch and shuffle under the low coffee table, dead silent as you do. Your claws don't even clack against the linoleum. Kyle can't really see you, but the barest tuft of your tail is thumping against the leg of the table in a slow wag.

He leans back to his resting position, wondering what exactly the social customs are for shifters in the US. Maybe it's rude to shift in company with humans, because of the language barrier? Or maybe it's more of a personal thing?

He decides he'll research it later, dozing off on the couch while you hunker down under the table.

[leebythegodsside]

Thinking about German shepherd shifter!reader?? Who was a previous member of the shadow company experiencing culture shock with the 141??

Meeting price and feeling so confused when he doesn't so much as reach for your collar beyond giving it a raised brow. It feels odd not having his dominance reasserted, and it leaves you feeling off-kilter. Sure, you know implicitly that price is in charge, but you also feel like an outsider without him claiming ownership.

Then you meet soap and ghost, and truly feel as though you've fallen into some twisted reality. Both of them are undoubtedly shifters by the smell alone, but they greet you in human form. Not only that, they greet you like shifters while in human form, reaching out their wrists for you to scent them.

And god, don't they realize that price is right there? your nerves raise as he watches passively. Is this a test? Surely, it's a test. So you gently pull away, subtly turn your head in a rejection that has soap's lips curling. Still, when you hold out a hand for a human greeting, they accept.

But it doesn't stop there. Every interaction for the weeks following just feels...wrong. Like everyone was in one some ruleset that you were left to figure out. Ghost spent a lot of his time shifted, but you hardly ever saw Soap shift? And even in their dog forms, Gaz and Price talked to them like humans?

Eating is horrible, because they all seem to agree on team meals. Eating at a table always made you nervous, especially when everyone was familiar. The few times you joined your peers in the mess back with the shadows, people were constantly stealing food off each other's plates and laughing around. Except you weren't allowed to take food back because that's rude and it leaves your gums aching whenever a hand strays too close to your plate even if they never grab.

The worst part has to be sleeping, though. You're used to a crate, or maybe a small space under another shadow's bed, but now you have a whole room? And it feels so empty. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you pacing anxious circles into the floor. The space is so big, and your bed is too low to the ground to fit under it, but you don't want to move anything in case Price gets mad and– you end up not really sleeping at all.

Every single day, while you run laps in the morning before breakfast, the guys gather around and worry. Worry about you, about what they're doing wrong. How the hell they can even begin to help you when you reject them at every turn.

While you feel like all your bids for attention are being ignored, they wait desperately for you to reach out.

[Part 2 if u want]

[leebythegodsside]

Gender queer ghost??? Yes please!!

You find ghost one morning sitting at your vanity, makeup bag open and lipstick clumsily applied.

He's staring at his reflection, for once in his life unaware of any other soul in the room. The lipstick jumps and drags over the scar that splits his lip, but Ghost hardly notices it. He notices the way it brings out the blush in his cheeks, the warm glow of his eyes. He's looking at himself like he's never truly seen his reflection before.

Then you make the mistake of stepping further into the room, shifting the air just slightly and ghost whips around. Hes frozen in place, eyes locked with yours and completely silent. Silence rolls through him.

He quickly tries to smudge the lipstick off, voice stuttering over an excuse you don't listen to. Instead you cross the room and kneel so ghost may see you. He has tears clinging to blonde lashes. His cheek is warm under your palm, "hey, hey baby, don't cry. Im not upset okay?"

You attempt to soothe, cooing reassurance that you dont mind, that you aren't upset or angry. Ghost only nods, voiceless. He refuses to meet your eyes when you gently ask what he was doing with the lipstick. Memories flashing behind his eyelids, angry father and a disgusted mother.

The feeling sloshes around in his gut, thick gelatinous shame. Thats what it is, shame that he could not possibly give voice to. How would he even begin to describe it? The way his heart picks up at rosy cheeks and long lashes, how he watches soap and kyle style themselves and wishes he could do the same?

So he keeps stubbornly silent, long enough for you to get the message. Giving simon a nod, a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. You leave him alone, close the door behind him.

You don't comment when a small eyeshadow kit and lip gloss appear on his bed later that week, and neither does she.

[leebythegodsside]

Healer!ghost who is not nice.

His healing hurts. Broken skin, torn muscles, split fat, all sewn back together in an agonizing moment. The price to pay for the defiance against nature, pain.

Ghost doesn't care, what's a bit of pain when the alternative is death? He shoves soldiers down to stop their struggling, has others help restrain them if needed. The best people get out of him is a gruff don't shoot me before pain overtakes their being. It's not like he goes out of his way to hurt his men, but when there's organs spilling onto the floor he doesn't have much choice. He only heals the fatal wounds.

People glare at him in the hallways, some are bold enough to tell him he needs to be nicer, that the healing isn't worth it. Ghost just shrugs "They should be happy to be alive or kill themselves before I get there."

Then he meets you, a new recruit who hasn't learned to flinch away from him.

Being the guy who puts people through hell on the field, it's impossible for people to remain neutral about him. Some go so far as to avoid him in the hallways. He once placed a hand on a soldier's bicep to get them to move and they had a full-blown panic attack.

So. He only talks to the sergeants, his captain, and now you. It's...nice? It's different, having someone who actively chooses to sit and eat with him, who smiles and searches for approval after every training exercise. Slowly, tentatively, he accepts you. Shares snacks and quiet moments. One day he even agrees to watch a movie on your shitty laptop, snuggled under blankets, and eating popcorn.

Of course, nothing good ever stays that way for ghost.

Another mission, wet grass, gunfire, you. You, spilling blood over the morning dew with a foggy look in your eyes. When ghost kneels down next to you, you instinctively smile and slur "hey big guy! I'm...I'm uh not feeling too...too great.... can't we just wait a moment?"

Dread claws at the back of his throat, steals his voice. He just nods, peels off the velcro of his gloves. Two other soldiers come to press your arms and legs firmly to the dirt.

He doesn't give you a warning.

You scream and scream. Voice bloody and raw, tears streaming down your face. You beg for him to stop, and when that doesn't work you plead for the soldiers to let you go. They don't. He doesn't.

Ghost never stays long after, and today that won't change. Running forward to help push back fire. Someone else helps you put your mind back together, and as planned you both take different Humvees back.

Ghost gets caught up in meetings, doesn't see you in the debrief or the medbay when he finally drops by. But when he steps into his barracks, all of the personal effects you carelessly leave amongst his items are gone. Every trace of you removed. He knows what that means. He doesn't go looking for you. Goes to bed and wakes up, eats alone and smiles at no one.

He doesn't look for you.

[leebythegodsside]

Werewolf!soap who loses any and all intelligence he has in his human form. Literally becomes a big idiot wolf who loves belly rubs and raw steak.

Which ofc means your neighbors get to wake up at midnight to you shouting "soap! Drop it! Spit that out right now soap I swear to god!" While you grab at his muzzle and desperately try to pry his teeth from your favourite pair of lingerie. Poor boy got too excited and you know he'll choke on that $90 piece if he doesn't spit it out

[leebythegodsside]

How B squad met their father

[leebythegodsside]

poly 141 where simon makes you squirt ONCE while fingering you and licking your clit and then boom new kink collective unlocked, suddenly john, kyle and johnny are constantly making sure that you’re hydrated and coordinate distractions or fling paperwork at you to prevent you from going to the bathroom for long as possible before trapping you somewhere and shoving fingers down your pants and make a competition out of who can make the most mess of you while the others watch (it’s still simon, his fingers always get juuuuuust the right angle but he like watching them try, watching you writhe, and the smug satisfaction that it was him that started all of this) - 🔪 anon

squealing this is amazing

Simon and his damn magic fingers. Sitting across the room from you while you sat on Kyle's lap. Messily kissing him while two of his fingers piston in and out of you. It felt good, great even. You were close to cumming. But thats not what Gaz wanted. He wanted you to squirt. Wanted you to gush all over him in front of the whole team.

But when your climax hit there was no rush of wetness. Just your body tensing as you writhed in pleasure. Clenching down on his fingers while your moans filled the room. There was a disappointed grumble from Price, who had his money on Kyle being the most successful

Johnny ignored Gaz's pout and pulled you off him and onto his own lap, your back to his chest. Jamming his fingers into your slick cunt before you had the chance to catch your breath. You gripped his forearm as he drew a loud groan from your lips. Too much too suddenly. Only moment before you were barreling into your next orgasm. But still no squirt.

Finally Ghost rose from his seat. Slapping Johnny's hands away. Reaching forward even as you started to shake your head. Knowing you were far too sensitive for him.

"Yer doin' it all wrong. Like this."

Two fingers were knuckle deep inside you before you could stop him. You whined weakly, trying to shove him away. Then one curl of his stupidly long fingers had you jolting. Arching back against Johnny as you came hard. So hard you saw stars. So hard you were even aware of the gush of slick that coated Johnny's jeans and Ghost's fingers.

[leebythegodsside]

Thinkn’ bout Ghost who everyone thought would have a sweet, shy, and overly kind affectionate partner .

Oh they were shocked when you walked in with a takeout bag and drink in hand , exact opposite of what they thought, you look like you want to rip out everyone’s throat out, the meanest Rbf they’ve ever seen (their still not completely sure your not pissed ) you walk to Ghost dropping the bag in his lap and drink it almost spilling.

Ghost doesn’t say a word “don’t forget you lunch next time” your voice sounds more like a threat than a reminder but Ghost nods “didn’t ‘ave to” but still taking the food thanking her with a nod

“I know” you sound like a bitch “I won’t next time” leaving the rest of the team shocked thinking you’re disrespecting Ghost and he’s just taking it??

But after you leave Ghost sighs “ain’t they perfect” more of a statement then a question.

After a few times of seeing you around the team starts to put two and two together, that you just just have a major resting bitch face and natural attitude.

“y’know what? They are perfect for him” Soap muttered to Gaz while the two watched you an Ghost stare at each other like they hate each other “copy n pasted mate” Gaz replied

[leebythegodsside]

"Get ready, we're going out."

"Ye taking me on a date? Whiskin me away somewhere? Romantic bugger."

"We're going to big Tesco, not bloody Paris."

"Yer mare likely to get yer hole takin me tae big Tesco than Paris tae be fair."