#cod alone operator

[ghouldnight]

oouughh,,..submissive/bottom cerberus ghost has been on my mind for WEEKS

there's just something about seeing this big scary monster being submissive yknow?????

To be fair, it is a new body, new form. There's a lot of hands, triple the mouths, and a whole lot to learn to work and navigate. After all, having six hands isn't the easiest thing to coordinate in general.

Much when all three of your brains aren't working and you're only thinking with the head below ;)

He knows he can't help his appearance now but he's still worried about hurting you! There's a lot going on, a lot he hasn't figured out how to navigate. After all, its not like he really expected human contact again, much less someone so enthusiastic about everything he has.

Smut under the cut 18+ MDNI. Very tame but still suggestive enough :D

Also I'm SUPER sick right now sorry if this doesn't make any sense

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Never had he expected to feel the touch of another grace his skin, much less one so warm, so tender, caressing every little plane of his twisted, chimeric form.

No, he'd told himself after spending many nights alone and avoiding his reflection in the ripples of puddles and mirrors alike with a vengeance, the love of another wasn't something monsters got.

They were cast out, left to rot, driven away with ammunition and scorn brandished in a fist. Fingertips caressing their forms, skimming across skin that no longer fit their bodies as it frayed and tore, with great reverence wasn't befitting of such beasts.

Yet you didn't heed that warning. You didn't look at the common sense signs plastered, urging you to stay away from such things. The embers of your passion singed them until they smoldered into heaps of ash, crumbling away into the wind. No amount of words or warnings alike would go heeded, not even when he argued them himself.

His words fell upon deaf ears when he pleaded for you to leave him, a twisted monster like him had no life left to give, especially not a life that he could give you.

"A life without you is hardly living at all." Fell from your lips the second he tried pushing you away once again.

Now they were written on every inch of his skin with kiss-swollen lips in a silent promise, ceaseless worship poured over him in a way that he dared not protest anymore. Not that he had the mind to, not when your lips found the delicate skin on the base of his throat.

Two of his hands dug into the pillows above while the rest scrambled for purchase on the sheets. A low, rasping keen echoed from deep within his chest, blond lashes flutter as his eyes rolled back.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, the faint whisper of a small "Pretty boy," Sent yet another shiver down his spine, his whole body wracking with a tremor as his heart fluttered.

All of his tongues tied in that moment, caught like the noises in his throat as your nose traced up the column of his throat and those lips found his jaw. Nuzzling underneath, you scarcely let him catch his breath before you were trying to push it out again with the sinful swipe of a tongue that traced up his jaw.

At that point, he wasn't responsible for the noise he made or how his fingers twisted further, nails digging into the sheets, threatening to tear them apart with how hard he grasped and trembled.

Tracing your nose up to his, you leaned in, letting your breaths mingle as your warm weight pressed him down further into the plushness of the mattress. Hot breath mingled with his as he inhaled sharply, committing to memory every feeling he thought he'd never deserved. A feeling a monster like him shouldn't-

As if reading his mind, lingering kiss followed suit on all three lips, your hips rolling down onto the insistent warmth that had been pressed against you from the moment you pinned him down. You weren't going to let him think about such things, that much was clear. Not tonight and not ever for as long as you lived.

Your fingers never ceased their movement as they slipped lower and lower, raking through the swath of light curls blanketing his abdomen. Each centimeter further your hand swept was matched with yet another kiss, another taste, another silent plead for him to take the affection you gave.

The promise you made earlier echoed in his mind as you finally took ahold of his length, the last of his breath escaping him in a noise reminiscent of a faint moan. You weren't going to just show him how beautiful he was to you - you were going to make him feel it too.

[skauni]

It’s just Me, Myself, and I…

Alone.

[yawnderu]

I wanna nerd out a bit about the new operator (3-headed Ghost) because I just bought him and I can't stop looking at him.

While he is a bizarre combination of limbs from the TF141 members, he's listed as a member of KorTac, a private military contractor in the game known for having the bad guys, including Makarov, Graves, and some Konni soldiers. As of now, all the information of the operator appears as [REDACTED].

The masks he wears are arranged in chronological order following the events of the campaign, starting from the one on the right side, worn by Simon during Grave's betrayal. The mask in the middle is from the cinematic where Simon and Johnny meet up with Rodolfo again to rescue Alejandro, and the mask on the left side is from another cinematic, where Ghost's team eventually defeats Shadow Company.

He has five arms, two of which belong to Simon and are located on the right side of his body. On the left side of his body, two of the three arms are mutated together, and one of the arms belongs to Soap -easily recognizable by his SAS tattoo-, grasping Price's arm, while Gaz's arm is on the back.

Some of the accessories he wears include Gaz's cap,

Price's scarf,

and Farah's headband.

While he is listed as a KorTac operator, still attached to it can be seen a United Kingdom Special Forces patch on Ghost's arm.

Another curious fact is that the solitary arms on the back (belonging to Simon and Gaz) and Simon's head do not stop twitching, to the point it looks rather painful, as the head twitches force his entire body to move as well.

When you're in the selection screen, the Alone operator examines his mutated arm for a few seconds before moving on.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

WIP poopy sketch of the Alone Operator

shoutout to @ave661 for the reference!

I might regret drawing those hands in the future but hey, I'm insane.

[ghouldtime]

Alone. Truly Alone.

A fanfic based on the Alone Operator, for all the monster lovers out there Pairing is: Alone Operator (aka Simon Riley)/ Gender neutral Reader / John "Soap" MacTavish

Prologue/Drabble: Tomorrow

Chapter One: Going into an abandoned military facility for a quick job for some extra cash wasn't your best idea

Chapter Two: You go to collect your reward and end up with leaving with more than the money alone

Chapter Three: Johnny didn't want someone who asked questions - to him, anyways. That didn't mean you wouldn't try to get your own answers

Chapter Four: 20% done - You try to talk some sense into Johnny and get Ghost the one thing he wants

[omegapropaganda]

[manglechanbluh]

They were having a moment

[mrsunder]

Ever since I made that post about Alone with the little joke about him being Ghoap baby I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

Like imagine Soap (who isn't dead because fuck activision) finding this hulking monster while doing zombie clean up and thinking it's Ghost at first but Laswell swears up and down (and even shows him proof) that Ghost is safe. After he sees his own familiar tattoo and the unmoving arm he thought was just shadowed behind its back was actually darker skinned... he realizes what it is and is both SUPER PISSED and hesitant.

He knows what these monsters can do… but he can't bring himself to kill Ghost even if it's not actually him. He'd never sleep again if he had to put a bullet between Ghost's eyes himself. (he didn't think about the arms, didn't want to think too hard about what they were trying to do that resulted in a three headed monster and signs of the entire 141 on its body) So he just sits down in the room he found it in, stays close and lets the thing engage first while trying to be as little of a threat as possible. (It's the STUPIDEST thing he's ever done and Ghost absolutely tell him that as loudly as possible when they eventually meet up again) It takes a while, but when it sees his tattoo and realizes they share a mark on their skin Alone decides that Soap is clearly Like Him and now Soap has his very own Giant Murder Child. He goes back to the 141 because he can't keep doing what he's doing while also trying to care for Alone with just the hands off help Laswell can provide and the only reason they have a Calm Discussion and they don't all throttle him for faking his death is because said murder child doesn't quite understand different levels of violence and would just assume they're attacking him. It obviously takes a while for them to really get behind having Alone around (especially Ghost for REALLY OBVIOUS REASONS) but eventually they all realize he's got some kind of humanity in him. He was able to be taught to use a gun and doesn't just run around killing everyone he gets his hands on like the other monsters they were shown after Soap's return. While he has issues speaking because of damage to his body and how the side heads attach to the main one, they're able to teach him to read, write, and how to use BSL. It's slow going, but they make progress. Soap retires to a nice secluded place after a while so he can dedicate more time to helping Alone. Ghost follows along behind him because he's not going to let Johnny out of his sight ever again. (Price and Gaz visit often because Ghost wasn't the only one waking up from nightmares of Soap's "death") Alone will be as close to a fully functional person as he can be (what with the multiple heads, arms, random body jerking, and being a literal monster making it a bit hard to just go get a normal 9 to 5). He just needs to be taught what he missed because he was "born" fully grown. He'd probably either take up Soap's place with Laswell and get to go happily rip zombie heads off or join Kortac because they make a him a damn good offer (and if he threatens to tear out the throat of anyone that so much as looks at the 141 wrong, well that's just between him and his fellow operators).

[redstatic-art]

i didn't end up rendering it, but just added more details and clearned it up :0 Happy spook season y'all

[ariesterartist]

I decided to quickly draw Alone, I really liked this variation of the Ghost

[concernedgravy]

Won’t you let him in, Johnny? 💀🖤

[karlachismylife]

Hello again! I really really loved all your ideas, i might have been a bit expectant of what you will respond for my last ask so i might have check your profile from time to time mostly because i had read the posts that came after i asked that and i was worried that you were overworking yourself, and sorry if you didn't understand some parts of what i wrote, my first language isn't english (I actually have Spanish as my first language) and i tend to write fast and some words come without the proper grammar and about the merman themes i love both ideas, it even came to my mind the creature called leviathan! Which is said that it lurks in the deepest part of the oceans, I'm stay for the long run so, expect some messages from time to time! Take care of yourself and don't overdo it! With love and care

~🐰❄️

ghasp HELLOOOOO I'm so excited to see you again!! I was a bit worried I lost you because of how long it took me to reply last time 💔 you are so sweet, thank you for your concern, I am trying to keep myself balanced so I don't just burn out <3 and I understand you perfectly fine! That tritons thingy was just my brain going funny route on its own.

Damn I gotta learn Spanish finally.

Oooh Leviathan is a good one too! He has sooo many different depictions, one actually has several heads, so... Ghost Alone Skin Leviathan anyone? A creature of the depths, inexplainable, apocaliptic beast that would bow to no man or god, willingly going pliant and docile for you? God's spear couldn't stop its relentless rage, but your touch on the scaly skin soothes the tortured mind of a lonely, blind, creature, lurking aimlessly as it awaits the end of all times.

There's also a theme of saints and righteous people feasting on Leviathan's flesh after the beast is defeated. But what if we make it (you guessed it) a sex thing. A pure soul tasting the flesh of the beast and trailing on the border (oh how I love this often used duality) between gaining enlightment and getting corrupted. And yes, by that I mean sucking him off. Did I intertwine cannibalism and oral sex again? Well, whoopsie.

Honestly, I'm so glad you liked what ideas I threw out there. I love exchanging ideas with you. They just get me going, damn. And yupeeee I'm so glad you're staying!!! I hope I'll get to work on some of those ideas in the near future ehehehe.

Love you back three times more! You take care of yourself too <3

[jourquet]

it's so odd on the twt english rp cod verse, i think i'm the only writer who writes horangi with a vengeance against 141. because i can't see KORTAC and SPECGRU being friendly toward each other?? at best is a friendly rivalry or downright enemies. like they're opposite PMCs here.

and trust me, they won't cozy each other up. is a lot of nuance those new fans are completely ignoring because they want their "fluffy" and "defenseless" canon characters (which if they actually cared to study cod lore and irl military, is anything but that).

[ghouldtime]

Alone. Truly Alone.

I know I’m not the only one who took one singular, inquisitive glance at the new Alone Operator skin for the upcoming season and went “Would”. I need need need content on him

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

If you had to rank all the terrible decisions you’ve made in your life, this would certainly be in the top ten. Breaking into an abandoned place was a bad idea on its own. Now multiply the magnitude of that by twenty, considering it was supposedly some kind of military facility at one point in time before it was left to rot. Then add in the factors that you were alone, without a map, and no cell service. Yeah, definitely not your smartest decision. 

Dozens of garish yellow and red signs marked with a variety of warnings used everything under the sun (and law) telling you not to proceed decorated the corroding chain link fences that lined the property like it was going out of style. The crumbling facade of iron and concrete that made up the walls were made out to match. Everywhere you looked there was yet another warning, another thing telling you to turn back now. That should've been a sign, right?

Well, it wasn't the sign you were listening to. That one, the only sign you cared about right now, you had spotted stapled to a telephone pole as you were waiting to cross the street to go to your favorite grocery store. The crumpled, salmon pink flier hastily crammed in your backpack was your savior and your curse that brought you here.

The reason being a whole whopping $500. Something that would greatly benefit you and cause a whole less of a headache this month - and allow you a chance to breathe. It was a chance you couldn't pass up. And it's not like it was complicated. All you had to do was: get into the desolate fort, get proof of evidence of being inside there (photographic AND physical), and get out. Simple. Easy money. A task that even you could manage in maybe an hour or two, tops. You'd be an idiot not to do it.

Why anyone would pay that kind of money for you to go in there was beyond you. Quite frankly, you didn’t care. Money was money. Everyone had their reasons and if they were paying that much for a task that was that simple, then you weren't going to pry. All they had to do was pay up when the time was done, you'd never think about it again, and you'd be on your merry way a whole lot better off and a little bit richer.

Just to be certain that this wasn't a prank or someone trying to harass their ex with a pathetic attempt to get their number out there, you called the number scrawled hastily on the rain-soaked, faded poster. A harried Scottish accent confirmed without a doubt that this wasn't fake and was real as real could be. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said aside from “Aye”, which was close enough. He seemed to be talking at a million miles an hour in a near frantic tone. Surely, that was a red flag. But right now you were colorblind to everything except green.

It was enough motivation for you to throw some gear into a backpack and head out late in the night to the address of the once-important fort. The promise of cash and having it soon in your hand was plenty to get you moving.

Against your best instinct, against your gut screaming at you and telling you to turn back, and against all common sense - you went forwards anyways and decided today was the day when you’re going to pretend that you’re illiterate and those warnings meant nothing to you anyways.

Stale, stagnant air filtered through the respirator that hung snug on your face. If you breathed in a lungful of whatever was in here without it, it's likely you would’ve ended up with some new kind of respiratory disease previously unheard of - you're sure of it. Algae and lichen clung to some damp crevices, decorated with splotches of black mold the darkened the corners even more along the outskirts of the inky, lingering shadows.

Each cautious step forward onto the rubble and gravel covered ground ricocheted off the dilapidated walls of the corridor, fading into the abyss of black that stretched on far beyond what you could see. Though you doubted the protective eye ware helped you see better - it was probably more of a hindrance but you didn't want to take any more risks than necessary. The last thing you needed was a hospital bill.

The pathetic beam of warm, yellow light your flashlight provided scarcely illuminated the void that swallowed the hallway whole. What little you could see did nothing to motivate you forward. More disintegrating ceiling and rubble-buried winding halls greeted you with the same unwavering stillness as the rest of the place.

Crumbling, bleak, cold passages decorated with mildew, mold, and umber mystery stains you really didn’t want to think about alike stretched in a winding labyrinth you tried your best to navigate. Sparse nearly-disintegrated warning signs served as place markers to guide you through the otherwise directionless building, offering you the smallest sense of navigation and a sense of knowing where you were going.

One foot in front of the other, step by slow step, you made your way through the place untouched by light and people alike.

It shouldn't be that hard, you mused as you kept on walking. Whether it was just to reassure yourself with a steady mantra or confidence was left up to debate, but the fact remained: it was simple. Get an object that irrefutably proved you were here, take a picture - and that was it. That was all.

Now, that still left the question of what to take and what to get a picture of up for debate. Scouring the building hadn’t turned up anything worthwhile so far, except maybe some signage. But they were all too… generic. They were all something that could easily be faked and pulled from elsewhere. And a picture of them or another dimly lit, basic hallway wouldn’t do you any good. It would get you a door slammed in your face, a laugh if you’re lucky, and certainly no $500 which was the whole reason you were here in the first place.

Maybe you should’ve asked specifically what he wanted you to bring and a picture of….

Who are you kidding? You wouldn’t be able to understand a lick of what he said if you did. Maybe his accent was better in person, maybe he had told you in the hurried, almost anxious tone and you weren't remembering - but trying to talk to him again through the phone was a hopeless endeavor. Unless they were keeping a spare brain in here and translating software, you doubt you'd be able to even begin to try and understand the guy. All you could do was silently curse yourself for not asking, curse him for not being more coherent, and try your best to find something unique, snap a picture, and get out of there before you regretted stepping foot in this place even further.

With grumbled curse, knowing very well that you had to go further in the hopes that something actually substantial would greet you, you kept on going. There was no turning back now, no. You'd come too far. One more step forwards got you closer to that money and being out of here.

Yet lady luck wasn't making this easy, nor was she on your side today. A majority of doors you came across had been locked - barricaded, and certainly not something you could open. Their heavy, unyielding steel frames stood impassive, unmoving, and scarcely caring of your plight or any force used against them. It's almost like they stood there, mocking you silently for even trying. It was a waste of energy to even try with another one when the first twelve hadn't done anything more than groan slightly, giving the tiniest shudder before stilling in their frame.

Rounding what must’ve been the hundredth corner, you braced for yet another blank hallway and another unmovable door, but what greeted you was something different enough to cause you to halt in your tracks. An open door. A single, open door marked with a flickering, old bulb dangling above as if it were on its last legs, trying to stay alight. A wave of relief washed over you as you couldn’t help but to sprint forward, closing in on the hope that you could be done and out of here - and you’d have your money before you knew it! It was almost over. This aimless wandering with a stuffy mask and glasses to match was almost over.

Ignoring all common sense, you chased that feeling - quite literally. Caution was thrown to the wind as you darted into the room, your eyes flickered all over the first true, non-vacant room you’d found in here. Empty hospital beds with yellowed, stained linens haphazardly jumbled across their tops lined the walls. It wasn't a pretty sight but right now, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Panning your flashlight around, the warm, washed-out beam glinted off the dusty metal IV stands and carts littered about. Cobwebs spidered the corners of the walls and the rest of the surfaces alike, though their inhabitants seem to have left long ago.

Scanning the room, a few seconds ticked by before you finally found just what you needed, dangling off the foot of the bed by a worn hook. There it was, your holy grail: a brown piece of hardboard and rusted metal alike holding down frayed, yellowed pages. It's the only time you can officially say that you've been happy to see a clipboard - much less, elated and overjoyed to see such a simple piece of office ware. You could practically kiss it and taste sweet, sweet money right about now.

Swiping it from its place, your eyes flitted over the blotched, inky text scrawled on it, silently praying that it would have just what you’d need. The smallest corner of a logo stood in the top right corner, while the rest of the patient information seemed to have been rubbed at or swiped away. And your heart nearly sank in short-lived disappointment. Water stains distorted and warped the paper but your saving grace came in the form of a date and the name of the complex, officially signed at the top of the paper. 

The warm, giddy feeling that had been so fleeting earlier came back with a vengeance that lit up your heart and face alike. This was it! This was just what you needed. Placing it down, you fumbled with the camera clipped onto your belt, the tremble of excitement in your hands doing little to aid you. Snapping a picture of the clipboard with a quick click and a flash of light, you stuffed your saving grace into the weathered backpack you had donned. 

Task one - done. Now to get a good picture of the place and you'd be done. One simple click, one move, and one terribly annoying walk through the forever expansive hallways, and you would be out of here and back in your comfy bed before you knew it. Maybe you'd even get to catch up on a single episode of your favorite show.

Stepping back into a corner where you could find a vantage point, you held onto that flickering flame of hope as you pointed your camera and flashlight alike in the same direction to snap a quick picture of the room. With a simple click and a flash of blinding light, the deed was done. You could finally be out of here. 

Or so you thought. 

A sparse glint caught your eye as the bright flash ebbed away, the shadows returning full force aside from the gleaming, round lights that turned towards you. Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, your breath hitching as a wave of fear sunk the beginning of its talons into you.

No, no. Not a glint, you realized with horror. Six. Six luminous, reflective lenses glowed in the dark as they turned to look right at you. Staring. 

Your heart sank even further into your stomach, your blood running cold, as the corner went dark once again for a fraction of a second before all six glowing dots were back and all were looking right at you.

With a trembling hand, you kept your flashlight lowered. You don’t think you wanted to know what that was. No creature - no living being that big would have six eyes. 

You took a step back. 

Then another.

Another.

The ice-cold sensation of your blood coursing through your veins, your heart erratically beating against your chest harder and harder, kept you from screaming. A creak of the protest from the old hospital bed sounded like a gunshot in the otherwise too-still room as the thing stood and started moving towards you with footsteps that were all too quiet, all too soft for a thing of that caliber.

Whatever breath you had been holding escaped you as it lumbered out of the shadows. An unearthly, sickening gurgle spewed from its maw as if it were choking on its own saliva.

Even through the respirator, the scent of putrid rot and decay wafted from it as it drew closer and closer, your stomach tensed as you gagged, the bile threatened to rise from your stomach as the urge to puke took you by surprise. If you weren’t wearing the respirator, you’re sure you would have - and maybe you would have noticed it in the room sooner if you could've picked up the stench of death.

The urge to run, all instincts screaming at you, pleading and begging you to run for your life simply didn’t work as you stood rooted to the spot as it finally stepped into the trembling, watery beam of light that cut through the speckles of floating dust. A scream of horror caught in your throat as you finally stared up at the abomination's mangled form with wide eyes.

Three heads, all fused together in a webbing of crimson, sinewy membranes moved in sync. Six eyes - six, now unblinking, cloudy eyes settled on you. Despite the milky, glassy sheen to the eyes settled and sunken deep into the heads (or in the raw membranous flesh in the case of one eye on the head to its left) - it tracked every single movement and breath, focused on you with near predatory ease. Five arms hung loose by its side, with two of them being partially fused together in a sick amalgamation. Bits of pallid skin had long ago sloughed off, exposing muscle that had blackened with exposure but somehow not rotted away.

Skull masks and balaclavas covered most of their faces - and you supposed that was a good thing. If the distended, broken jaws of the heads were indication of how it would look underneath, you’re happy declining on seeing what lay below. Drool spilled onto the fabric, or some mystery liquid, bubbling up as it made yet another noise. The motion caused your have to fly up to your covered mouth, your heart and stomach alike retching.

Torn tactical gear adorned the twisted cerberus, blackened with fluids, almost as if it had once had a purpose - to protect. But your mind wasn't there, it was on its existence. The abomination, the chimera, the thing that shouldn’t exist and went against all aspects of nature stood in front of you unmoving for a moment until you took a single step back.

It took a step forward.

Ever so slowly, as if moving through molasses, it drew three scarred hands up, reaching for you.

That was all you needed to take off. Up and out through the hall where you came, your legs strained as you sprinted. Each footstep echoed louder and louder down the void of black and gray you came from, flooding out the sputtered groan from it but you didn’t care. Consequences be damned, you didn't care how loud you were or how much attention you drew. You were better off getting caught by a guard or hell even the police - at least they’d have guns. 

Every inhale scorched your lungs, the fire of fatigue seared deep into every strand of your muscles as you kept on pushing, but you didn’t stop - you couldn’t. Not until you cleared the hallways, skirting through the piles of debris and around the same desolate corridors you had meandered through prior. Not until the crisp, chilled night air finally greeted you as the stars twinkled above, oblivious to the sheer horrors below. 

Not until you finally jammed yourself through the cut hole in the chain link fence, any pain of the metal scraping at your skin dulled out by the adrenaline flowing through your veins, empowering each sprinting step forwards until you were far, far away and back in the safety of your car.

Note to self: Don’t ever trust fliers you find on telephone poles.

This guy better be ready as soon as the sun graced the land again to hand over those five Benjamins. Hopefully he likes his mornings started with pounding knocks to his door and a middle finger to the face. 

જ⁀➴

The darkness echoed with the patter of fading footsteps as the mystery person sprinted away, completely aghast with a look of sheer primal fear painted on their limited, exposed features. 

They didn’t see how his fingers flexed, hands still outstretched in the air, twitching once again at the loss of something warm, something human that he came so close to grasping.

They didn’t see how he stared at where they were, not moving from the spot he stood. Nor did they see his clouded, hazy eyes downturn as he dragged his form back to the bed with great reluctance. 

Nor did they hear the drowned out, garbled words that took all his energy to choke out and force his broken jaws to move. 

“Don’t…. go….”

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Thinking of maybe making this a series! Any feedback is welcome and appreciated! It's been a while since I've written so forgive any mistakes,,,,

Edit: part two has been posted!

[diejager]

omegaverse anon here, could you do the cod group with a beta reader? Like, they stay really out of the way, not really used to getting any attention from alphas or omegas

Unusual Attraction Cw: omegaverse, awkward!reader, ell me if I missed any.

You were an oddity of a beta, your stronger nose made interacting with people harder than other betas, it made you stand out from your peers, they deemed you a beta stronger than the usual beta and that made you feel isolated and alone. You were used to alphas ordering you around and moving you from team to team for your nose and clear mind, you were a asset to have on certain teams where they needed a buffer that wasn’t an heat-prone omega. And despite your constant entourage of omegas and alphas, you never stopped flinching or wincing when someone’s scent became too strong, the musk burning your nose in an enclosed area like the mess hall, the training areas, or even public spaces. 

You preferred keeping to yourself, to alleviate the growing headache pounding at your head, to find a calmer corner of the base you were permanently moved to. You knew the people you worked with from prior assignments, a few times on month long covert operation and others on week long clandestine missions offshore, but you liked your silence when you could afford to find it. Even outside, their scents clung to your clothes, the strong smell of Price’s smoke and Ghost’s bourbon, the distinct notes of strength and dominance that screamed Alpha, Soap’s sweeter and softer citrus that you could pick up despite the scent blockers and Gaz’s gentle vanilla, a soothing calmness that reminded you that you weren’t the only buffer to the team, that you were the only beta.

“Found ye, Hound!” You liked the way Soap said your callsign, his accent coming into play to make it sound different —special. 

He swung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side, your nose twitching from how close you were to his scent glands. You felt like he did it with intention, always finding a way to have you smelling like him and filling your mind with his scent, it was near addictive —so much so that you would’ve succumbed to it if you were an alpha, mind shutting off and body acting on it’s own volition. You wouldn’t blame anyone for it, Soap smelled so good, a sinful delight that people were deprived of, and when he wasn’t using the patches, it numbed your mind, made you slow and sloppy with your thoughts and acts. He knew the effect he had on you and he loved it from his constant hazing, flashing his gland in your face and drowning you in it whenever he could. Perhaps it was his claim on you, you never truly understood the whole dynamic, you were a buffer with a better nose, nothing more and nothing less.

“We were lookin’ fer ye,” he walked back in, still holding you in his grasp, “We’re going tae the pub. Thought ah’d come and get ye.”

They, on multiple occasions, had invited you to go drink with them, extending that olive branch your way with smiles and encouraging nods. You were tempted to accept, but you didn’t do well in enclosed and crowed spaces, so you declined over and over, but they never stopped asking you. It got to a point where you were waiting for them to stop asking, to tire themselves of befriended you, and yet, they never did, going so far as to pull you along despite your grumbling and exhaustion, promising a night of rest and relaxation at the pub. 

And fortunately, their words rang true, it was a blessing to your nose that the owners burned an overpowering but gentle incense that blocked all types of scents, a relief you rarely got. The only thing you could smell was the comforting scents of your new pack, the oil-packed burgers and fries, and the strong burn of alcohol, all thing that you didn’t mind as long as it came in moderation to your nose. After your first drunken and giggling visit to the pub with them, basking in their attention, Soap throwing himself over Ghost’s lap and grinning at you cheekily, Gaz leaning against your side, nuzzling the crook of your shoulder, Ghost’s big and warm hand grasping your thigh and Price looking on with so much pride. 

“The occasion?” You followed him blindly, blinking lazily at him.

“Yer third month with us,” he smiled widely, something carnal and wild, befitting more an alpha than the omega he was. Maybe that’s why he could easily pass as an alpha, with all his bravado and broadness, either way, he was a dangerous man alone, but as a Task Force, they were a menace.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

[justtwofriendsinmyhondacivic]

IT tech reader x poly 141

Chapter four (Unedited)

a/n: hey yallllllll, so i'm going to be going through and editing the chapters that I have put out. There will hopefully be a few more, and then I'll post moments from this story that you can request. 

18+ MDNI!!

Cw: afab reader, inaccurate military descriptions, female anatomy and pronouns, dry humping, talk of shooting and weapon handling, minor angst, mentions of teammate death

…

The weeks after your first training session with task force 141 was nothing short of exhausting.

The almost daily training sessions were hard on your body, between your morning exercise and you being thrown around during sparring the soreness was bone deep. The nightly work on the servers and helping John with paperwork, sleep was also something you don't see very often. 

The nightmares of your last deployment made sure of that. 

But what was truly exhausting was the thick heavy blanket of sexual tension that won't let up, no matter how many times you've tried to find some relief. 

The heated hands on your sweaty body during sparring, the eyes you can feel creep up your neck, the thought of them being together just down the hall. 

You've tried to keep it down, as your relationship with Soap and Gaz has grown to being friends, and you didn't want to mess that up. You and Soap started lifting together having a competitive edge which left you guys sore for days to come. 

You bonded to Kyle quick as you both shared interest in coding and video games. On nights there was nothing to be done you found yourself in the common room yelling at each other while playing COD. 

Ghost took time sparring you personally, he told you that you need to be able to fend off anyone bigger than you if you were ever alone. 

 John is someone you look up to, helping you with settling into your new role. 

You tried to keep your mind in check reminding you that these men were in a relationship together, but fuck that was hard.

Sighing, you locked your computer and began the now familiar walk to John's office. Rapping your knuckles on the door before hearing him beckon you inside. 

Peeking through the door before smiling at him, “Hi, Captain.” Striding over and taking a seat on the dark leather couch on the wall of his office. Making yourself comfortable in your usual spot on the couch. 

“Told you, love, call me John.” He said turning his chair to look at you, giving you access to the welcome sight of him leaning back with a cigar hanging from his lip. 

The handsome lazy look in his eye, smoke billowing around his head with the lamp light behind him took your breath away. He looked heavenly. The spread of his thick thighs looked like the perfect seat. 

Clearing your throat and hoping he didnt catch on your shameless eye fucking of him, “M’sorry Ca- John, hows paperwork?” You asked, fixing your mistake, pulling your legs up and hugging them to your chest.

He always noticed no matter how comfortable you were getting with him and his team you had a habit of making yourself as small as possible, almost trying to be hidden, a hand wrapped around your scarred shoulder. It was a tell that John hadn't been able to stop thinking about, which was worse after he read your file and got information about how you obtained the scar. 

“Taxing as always, got more coming soon-” He said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, after putting the cigar out on the dirty ashtray that lived on his desk. 

“We're heading out for an operation in two days, gotta go help get some intel. I want you on the op.” Feeling excitement and anxiousness, you sat forward hanging on every word. 

“Are you alright with that?” He asked, tilting his head, showing concern for how you were feeling in the group.

“Of course, John, anything the team needs.” You nodded. 

He felt his chest warm at your eagerness to prove yourself to him and his boys.

“I've read your file, I know how your last operation went before you moved to IT.” He watched as some of the light left your eyes, seeming to stare right through him, “Are you still with me, love?” 

The tone of his voice brought you out of your staring, running a shaky hand through your hair, then to rest on the scar around your shoulder, the reminder of what happened always seemed to set the skin on fire.  

All you could think about was the bright smile of your teammate, Cowboy, you lost three years ago, on an infiltrate operation.

The compound was supposed to be lightly guarded that night, but once you breached it was guns blazing. You guys almost made it to getting evac, but once entering the office that you needed to pull apart for information, four men with machetes surprised you. 

Shooting two before one dug his machete over your shoulder and back, the other stabbing Cowboy through the chest. Back up arriving before the men could finish you off, your partner wasn't so lucky. 

All of that due to a mishap with intel, something that you vowed not to let happen again, transferring to the IT department as soon as you were back to work. 

You felt the couch dip next to you as John's warm thigh pressed against your hip. 

Warm tears clung to your lash line, begging to fall over.

“Hey-” he grabbed your chin between his rough fingers bringing your gaze up to meet his, “S’alright, I just needed to know if you need more time or not, I don't want to rush into it, you can sleep on it. The briefing is at 0600 tomorrow.” 

You felt the warmth of his breath on your face, the addicting smell of the cigar and his woody oak smell wrapping its warm embrace around you.  

Your eyes met his light blue eyes, a tear broke through running down your cheek. 

John's hand met your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the fresh trail that the tear left, his eyebrows furrowing. The warmth of his palm sunk into you, instinctually leaning your face into the feeling of his skin. 

“I'm okay, it's not something I like to think about.” You sniffled out, trying to contain the wobble of your bottom lip. 

“I know, if you want to sit out you can, Gaz knows enough to get the intel. Might not be as smart as you are with the computers, but we can manage.” He said, his hand unmoving, keeping your eyes on him.

Not that you wanted to or could look away, you were too entranced in how warm his presence is. 

“I can do it.” You said, noting the unsure look on his face. 

“I promise I'm okay to do it-” you said, leaning forward, feeling determined. 

As you leaned toward John he could feel his resolve slip, the way the light warmed your skin, highlighting the rosy tint to your cheeks. He couldn't deny his attraction to you, the easy going and quiet nature was something he admired. 

He knew his partners felt the same way. Soap couldn't have hid it if he tried, everytime he came back from your now joined lifting session, he pounced on anyone in his path. 

Gaz sported a sweet smile on his face when he was in bed talking to his captain about how you beat him in an intense match, giggling as he swore you cheated.

Ghost would never say it out loud but John knew the look he was giving you as you got better in sparring. The quiet man was hard to please, but you were trying your best. And he could tell.

 His eyes fell looking at your plush lips, then back up to your eyes. The hesitation was slipping away after your smell filled his nose and the smooth feel of your skin. 

Your wet eyelashes parted wider as John closed the gap in between you and enveloped your lips in a soft kiss. The pretty gasp you let out went straight down to his half hard cock. 

Your fingers gripped the front of his shirt, unintentionally pulling him closer. 

After a moment, John pulled away gazing into your wide eyes, feeling your warm breath on his face. He trailed a burning hand from your cheek to your shoulder prepared to push away and apologize for his actions. 

That was before your lust clouded mind convinced you to pounce. 

He felt your hand push him back to lean on the arm of the couch. He watched as you perched yourself on his wide lap like you were made to be there, feeling the heat of your core flowing over his lap he groaned. 

The deep sound from his chest vibrated through your bones as you dove back in eagerly, biting at his lower lip. Opening his mouth allowing both of your tongues to explore each other. His rough hands trailed down your sides before they found a home on your plush hips. 

The rough pads dug into your skin, anchoring your willing body to his. A hand running up to tangle its way into your hair, he yanked back exposing the skin of your throat. He ran his tongue up from the peak of your shoulder up to your jaw. 

Your hands found their way to rest on his shoulders, digging in until your nails left crescent indents in his skin. 

He pulled you down to provide friction you both so desperately needed. 

The sweet hiccuping moan you let out was mirrored by John as you felt the thick cock underneath you. John's beard was scratching against your wet mouth so deliciously. 

As the kiss heated up, John's hand slipped underneath your shirt feeling the skin of your tummy and running up to cup your breast. Running his thumb over the pierced skin of your nipple, groaning as he pinched it between his fingers making your body jolt.. He bit at your ear, letting you hear his heavy breath. 

As you ran a hand through his hair, you started to rock on his lap, the fog in your brain finding it hard to stop. Wanting nothing more than to let all of them have their way. 

“Just like that, take what you need.” His words sink in as you move faster, becoming more erratic as your body heats up. 

“Good girl.” he chuckled deep and dark, pulling you down to meet his lips again. 

A sharp loud knock startled you as you jumped off of John, heaving as you tried to catch your breath. 

The sobering sound knocked some sense into you, as you realized what was happening. 

“Fuck, im so sorry Captain.” You said rushing towards the door. 

“Love dont-” He tried to catch you before you ripped the door open, almost running into a surprised Ghost. Pushing passed him, John sighed as he watched you scurry toward the barracks.

Ghost watched you run away before looking back confused at his lover. Taking in the kiss swollen lips, and crumpled clothes he put two and two together quickly.

“Think ya scared ‘er” The deep voice of Ghost filled the now silent room, pushing the door closed as he entered. John sat back down on the couch where your warmth and smell still lingered. 

His head hung low as he rubbed the skin of his neck. 

Ghost came and stood in front of him. 

“I feel like a goddamn teenager, Si.” He said, finally looking up at him. 

“Maybe bringing another person onboard was a mistake-” John shook his head, chuckling dryly, knowing that Ghost was blowing smoke. He had the same feelings around you as he did.

“Don't start. You forget that I know you well, love.” he shook his head, Ghost rolled his eyes before dropping himself next to the older man. 

He started picking at the stitching on one of the pillows on the couch, suddenly finding it more interesting than the conversation on hand. 

“She’s under your skin now too, under all of our skin.” John spoke, telling Simon what he already knows. He ran a hand over Ghost's knee pulling his attention back to him. 

“I know. Soap won't shut up about ‘er” He smirked. 

“Nor Kyle, filthy mutts the lot of us.” John sighed. 

“We're taking her on an assignment with us, we leave in two days.” John rubbed his forehead leaning back, “The briefing is at 0600, hopefully I didnt fuck anything up too bad,” 

Ghost nodded before leaning back to snuggle onto John's shoulder, looking up with a suggestive glint in his eye, “We should head to bed then.” 

John nodded.

…

Sleep again was not something that was easy for you to obtain that night. All you could think about was the kiss you shared with the Captain. Shame settling deep in your mind. How are you even supposed to look at him in the morning? You felt like you've ruined everything. 

How would the other guys react? 

You think they'd be mad, or maybe they would ask for your immediate resignation from the team. 

All you could do is wallow in the heavy feelings while staring up at the gray ceiling until your alarm goes off. 

Dragging yourself to get ready, deciding to avoid everyone as much as you could, you got ready for a run instead of the joint lifting session you had with Soap. 

Shoving your headphones in you walked towards the outside entrance to the training courses. Showing your badge to the man at the door, the sky was still dark and gloomy as it has been the past few days. 

You turned up the volume before you started the run, deciding to go out past the track and towards the wide forest that surrounded the perimeter. Hoping the run would distract you from the turmoil in your head. 

It didn't. Before you knew it, you were already deep in the woods out of breath against a tree. Looking down at your watch you cursed, you've lost track of time. You only had fifteen minutes to get back before the meeting started, you'd have to run straight there without getting ready. 

You took off, your feet hitting the pavement hard as you raced time to get there in time. Out of breath you gave your badge back to the man at the door before sprinting down the halls until you made it outside of the meeting room. 

Busting through the doors before bending down with your hands on your knees trying to calm your breathing. 

Looking up you find the eyes of the team looking at you concerned and confused, “Was someone chasing you?” Gaz asked, his handsome face furrowed at you. All eyes were on you. John was wondering the same thing as you were the first one at the meeting getting the presentation started. 

Panting, “No- just lost track of time during my run, my apologies, Captain.” You said avoiding the concerned look in his eyes, you wiped off some sweat from your forehead and headed to the empty seat by Soap. 

“No worries, love.” He said, eyeing the purple bags under your eyes. 

As you sit down, Soap leans over, “Skipping lifting for cardio?” He grins. 

You gave a half smile that did not reach your eyes, and nodded before looking up at John. Leaving Soap even more confused as you would have just asked him to join you for the run. 

“The mission is an infiltrate and obtain mission.” John began pointing at the screen as a picture of a man popped up on screen, “This is Antonio Gutierez, he is said to have intel about nuclear assets.”

Everyone took note of how the muscular dark skinned man looked. 

“This is a joint op with Los Vaqueros”

“He's having a party coming up, which we will be sending you in, you'll have a member of their team with you,” The boys didn't like this idea, you've finally started to get used to them and they wanted to be there in case something happens. 

Soap stood up looking upset but before he got a word in, John cut him off, “We will be right outside of the compound if they need backup support.” The look on his face told Soap that he also didn't feel comfortable with this but Laswell was the superior officer that made the plan. 

“So what is my cover?” You asked, the look of determination clear. 

“You're Jenny Amana, wife of Rafael Amana.” He said handing over a manilla folder, you opened it and found your identification and passport. 

“Were wheels up tonight at 1800, the party is tomorrow at 2000.” The team nodded as John continued to brief the team on the specs of the job.

Coming to an end he dismissed everyone as they exited, Soap sent a long look in your direction when Price asked you to stay behind. When everyone filed out of the door, John took a seat next to you. 

“Are you sure you're comfortable with the job?” He asked, his thick brows knitting themselves together. 

You leaned back to give him more space so as to not cross any boundaries, remembering last night. He frowned 

“Yes, Captain. I have off duty clothes that will work for this.” You said, fiddling with your fingers so you could avoid eye contact. 

John shook his head, “Kate has a kit in Mexico for you, the dress code is quite extravagant.” 

You nodded before feeling the air of the room turn heavy with the uncomfortable silence. 

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.” He said. Simple words were enough to knock the wind out of you. Finally looking up to see him gazing at you. 

“I should be the one apologizing, I should have never done that. You're my captain and you're in relationship’s, I don't want to come between that.” You said, shaking your head as the shame tugs at you, “I understand if you want me to step down from my position.” 

Sighing out, he ran a hand down his face and through his beard. 

“I don't want you to leave, didn't want you to leave last night.” He said, placing a hand on yours to stop you from picking at your nails. 

“You're not upset?” You asked, confusion clearly pulling at your face. 

“Far from it, doll.” The sweet small smile he gave you warmed his war worn face, running a finger over the apple of your cheek. Reminding you of the night before. His praises and dominating actions still had your skin buzzing. 

“How-” He cut you off before you could go any farther with a small kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll talk after the operation, go pack up and have some down time.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. Starring deep in eachothers eyes you gave a slow nod as you pushed up from the chair. 

You gave him a glance before pulling the door open and heading to your barracks. 

… 

Packing and trying to have down time was hard when your mind was racing. All of the thoughts about the men on the other side of the hall.

You tried to occupy your mind before the plane ride, making sure you had everything you needed. 

You walked to the bathroom to grab toiletries, when the light illuminated the sterile bathroom you looked at the picture you stuck to the mirror. Two sets of happy gleaming eyes look back at you. 

It was a younger you, hair not quite as long, eyes that shone so bright even as mud caked your body with the arm of your teammate around your shoulders. It was a picture that was taken of you and Andre a couple weeks before his death. His dark skin was dirty from the particularly muddy obstacle course you both had just run. 

You smiled sadly at it, caressing it as the memories of him flew in your mind. 

How he took you in when assigned to his unit, helping you find your feet in the hard reality of the marines, never letting you fall deep into the pits of PTSD and depression.

You giggled remembering the story of how he earned the call sign Cowboy. While on a mission in the USA he was found staying up all night watching old reruns of westerns, speaking the lingo he picked up from them over comms.

You remembered him introducing you to his wife, Ella, over a video call, the warm smile of the woman over the screen made you feel comfortable instantly. 

She had invited you to come and stay with them during the long breaks, the breaks that you had nowhere to go, no family to go home to. They turned into home, staying up with Ella as she braided her hair as you both listened to music together. 

She had just broken the news about their pregnancy before we went back into deployment. As soon as he found out he put in papers to be discharged, refusing to be away from his family during the growth of his baby. 

He didn't make it to meet his baby.  

The survivors' guilt wouldnt allow you to look Ella in the eyes, knowing that it should have been her husband that made it back. Not you. 

You felt your legs shake before sinking to the cold tile floor clutching the photo securely to your chest. Your vision blurred as the tears flowed freely down your skin. 

Join the marines they said, it'll be fun they said.

…

As 1800 quickly approached you loaded the gear into the military airplane along with the boys, you could feel their eyes on your puffy eyes and flushed skin. 

The plane was quiet as the team started buckling in, the hum of the engines beginning to get louder before the door closed. Looking across the plane seeing Price, Soap, and Gaz getting comfortable in preparation for the long flight. Soap wrapped his arm behind the two men on either side of him, smiling at something Gaz said to him. 

Ghost sat to your right, choosing to buckle in right next to you even with the open space next to him, you were too tired to care. You felt eyes on the side of your face, looking over to meet his, you gave a silent nod. 

Before you knew it the plane was on the runway gearing up to take flight, the bounce in your leg grew faster as the feelings of being exhausted and anxious battled against each other. As the plane started to gain speed, a cool hand reached over and gripped your thigh, seeming to dwarf the muscle, quieting the tapping of your foot. 

Looking back up gazing at the sharp hooded eyes. He looked down where his gloves hand was connected to the taught muscle of your thigh, the fat of your thigh slightly pillowing over his large fingers. 

Your breath quickened as the plane took air, his hand unmoving until the plane was settled in the sky. He looked away reading the file that was on his other side. Clearly ignoring the bulge of your eyes and the gape of your mouth. 

You composed yourself, feeling your eyes dry and droop as the nights of no sleep caught up with you. 

…

About six hours into the flight, most of them were asleep including you. Ghost and John awake, making sure every detail of the plan was correct and accurate. 

Simon swore his hand still warmed from where it touched your thigh. Making it hard to focus. He laid his head back, turning it to the left, running grey eyes over the soft skin of your throat. The veins in your neck were out due to the odd posture. Eyes dilating at the small movements of your pulse. 

Grinding his teeth together at the idea of biting the sensitive flesh. 

When your head tilts and a small whimper makes its way to his ears he sits forward slowly. The furrow of your brow was enough to tell him that the dream you were having wasn't pleasant. He didn't want to startle you out of your sleep, deciding it was better to grab your hand. Applying enough pressure so your nervous system could focus on something else. 

It was enough to stop the whimpering as you leaned slightly towards his warm body. John chuckled at him. 

…

“C’mon birdie, we're here.” Gaz’s voice pulled you from the less than comfortable feeling in your body. You realize your head was slightly leaning on the lieutenant's shoulder. 

You pulled away muttering a small apology to him. The plane was still in air but slowly coming closer to the ground as details on the ground were much easier to see. You hang your head to rub at the stiff muscles in your neck, groaning as you feel some relief. 

The plane hit the pavement of the runway, the bustling army base was in full action. Recruits were running around the strip on the dusty ground. Pilots were checking their air crafts and filling their fuels. The plane stopped. Slowly lowering the hanger door as you unbuckled. The boys stood in front of you, walking down to the ground. 

“Alejandro!” Soap yelled, as he and a tall man joined each other in a brotherly hug. The handsome man's face cracked into a wide grin, greeting the familiar team. 

The sun had just come up, lighting the whole airstrip in a pretty orange color.

“Amigos! S’good to have you back in the city of souls.” He said before seeing you tucked in the back behind the taller men, he moved through them to present you with a welcoming hand. The beard on his face was clean and neatly trimmed, same with the cut of his hair.

“So youre the new soldier, I'm Alejandro, I'm the leader of los vaqueros.” Your hand embraced him as you smiled at him, introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, sir.” 

“Just Alejandro is fine, amiga-” He said before turning back to the group, “Follow me, we got you set up in a hangar over here.” 

Walking into the aircraft free hangar, taking in the small kitchen to your left and the makeshift common room to your right. They were worn in leather couches surrounding a TV, you saw five cots set up behind the TV, tucked together too close for comfort. 

They already had food prepared and waiting for your arrival. The scent of meat filled the air, your stomach growled excited to eat something different. 

Everyone went and threw their gear on the cots already grabbing the end beds, leaving you on the one between Ghost and Gaz, silently cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. 

Soap was already running over to the food and loading up a plate full of meat and veggies, shoving a full fork in his mouth and chewing loud while Alejandro starts speaking. 

“Jesus Soap, the food’s not gonna run away.” He laughs, watching Soap shrug his shoulders and shovel another full fork full of food into his already puffed up cheeks. Ghost rolled his eyes and smacked the back of his head. 

Soap sputtered trying to regain his breath as you guys laughed at him.

Everyone sat on the couches, besides a female officer who stood at the entrance of the hangar, a few members of Los Vaqueros filed in to take seats leaving no seats for you. As Gaz started to stand to offer you a spot, you started to sink to the floor in front of him and Soap. Before you could be fully seated two strong arms hauled you off of the floor, bringing you to sit in between Soap and Gaz.

The guys were talking amongst themselves so they couldn't see the flustered look on your face, because of the lack of space on the couch you were practically sitting on both Gaz and Soap’s laps. Gaz had an arm over the back of the couch running a hand over Soaps shoulder, the rubbing of his hand caused his warm hand to run over the top of your shoulder.

Soaps arm locked around your waist, the warmth of his hairy arms sinking in your shirt and to your skin. The plate is on his other leg, he was looking to his Captain and Alejandro continued to shovel food in his mouth, acting as if sitting you on his lap was completely normal. 

Wiggling against the hold on your waist, Kyle moved his hand around your shoulder to keep you in place. In the midst of you squirming your ass rubbed against his crotch, if he was able to make it through this briefing he needed you to be still. 

Accepting your fate you leaned against Kyle's chest, too tired to argue, your legs curled into Soap's thigh as the meeting began. 

It was mainly just covering all of the details you already knew. 

“There is a hill on the west of the compound, that's where we will set up in case of a hot extraction.” Alejandro said,pointing to the map that was on the TV, “I will be going under Rafael Amana, with my ‘wife’ Jenny Amana.” He gestured at you, nodding at him.

The arm around your waist tightened as Soap stopped shoving food down his throat, the look in his eye was dark. It was a new look to you, compared to the happy expression he almost always has on his face. 

“You're going to go with Officer Saldana to get ready, you need to be wired up, and you'll be running through your cover with her.” You nodded, looking at the pretty officer waiting for you to come with her. Greeting her with a small nod.

You sat up pushing out of Soaps hold, feeling his finger tips linger on your hip as long as he could. All eyes of your team watched you go with dark gazes, feeling possessive after having you all to themselves. You rounded the corner of the building giving them a quick backwards glance before you were out of their sight. 

…

Time passed by as you and Officer Saldana started to get to work, she and another female officer hovered around you helping with your hair and make up while quizzing you on the cover. 

“Who are you?” She asked, her face merely inches from yours as she was fiddling with your eyeshadow. 

“Im Jenny Amana, my husband and I, Jorge, are investors from Jalisco. We've been married for three years, celebrating our fourth anniversary in two months.” She nodded, sitting back to admire her work as the other officer, Linda, brushed through your hair. 

“You need to claim the room, women from these lifestyles are proud. Treat Alejandro like he is yours, hang off of him. Even when you think no one is looking.” You nodded, thinking it'd be easy with the amount of sexual tension you had in you..

“You speak spanish, correct?” You nodded once more, her hand coming up to blend at your smokey shadow. 

“Only speak to men when spoken too, introduce yourself to the women. Try to overhear any gossip, the wives have loose lips.” Linda said behind you, her fingers running through your hair made your scalp tingle. 

“Got it.” 

“So, which one are you dating?” Saldana asks, smirking at your bulging eyes, “None of them.” you insisted. 

“Dont lie, they all looked like they would kill for a bite of you. Plus you were practically lying over top of two of them.” Linda gasps at the piece of gossip, coming around to face you. 

“Are more than one of them yours?” You felt the heat over your neck as they prodded, they giggled as they watched your reaction. You smiled at them shaking your head. 

You missed the feminine energy of having lady teammates, they go through the same things as you, it's easier to connect.  

“Okay, okay you don't have to tell-” She chuckled with Linda, “The dress is in the bathroom.” You got up and headed into the small military bathroom that you suddenly felt out of place in. 

Looking in the mirror at the great job these women have done. You almost didn't recognize yourself. 

Your hair was pinned into a low bun, soft waves framing your face. Smokey makeup makes your eyes look lusty and sharp.

It's been a while since you've felt this pretty. 

Looking over to the dress bag that was hanging off of the towel rack, unzipping it your jaw fell open. You probably couldn't have afforded something like this even with your life savings. 

The silk black fabric was soft like butter under your rough hands, as you picked it up. Reeling as you noticed it had no back. 

You opened the door, seeing the girls looking back at you expectantly. 

“How do you even put this on?” 

They looked back at each other laughing, Saldana got up and entered the bathroom. 

She helped you dress, admiring her work. 

“Are you sure this is appropriate?” Suddenly feeling shy, the dress was fully open all the way past your lower back. 

“Yes, wear it with pride. Like the dress was made for you.” She said, grabbing your shoulders.

“Now let's get you wired up.”

…

The team began to place their gear on, Alejandro joined them already in his perfectly tailored suit. The gold metal pieces decorating his sleeves and wrist, complimenting his bronze skin. 

Outside the hangar two black SUVs waited, under the pink glaze of the sunset. 

“Don’ like this, cap.” Johnny said, he felt trigger happy just with the thought of you going into the compound, surrounded by bad men. 

“None of us do. This is an order sent down by Laswell.” He sighed adjusting his hat, “Can't be helped.” 

They loaded the gear into the back of one of the cars, now just waiting for you to get moving to the target. They talked amongst themselves, Ghost triple checking the ammo and gear, coping with the same discomfort of sending you in. 

“There she is.” Alejandro said, looking over towards the building doors. 

All heads snapped to you, unable to speak. Unable to move as the breath was knocked out of the room.

They watched the way you walked as if this was your second nature. 

Your dress hugged every curve seamlessly, the material slinking around you grabbing at your waist sinfully. The dress came up over your scarred shoulder, hiding it from prying eyes. Hair pulled up exposing the glowing skin of your collarbone and shoulder. 

Your tits sat naturally on your chest, no bra constricting your chest as they bounced against the weight of your steps. Your pierced nipples budding against the fabric, with the slight breeze. 

They were entranced. 

Heat seared through them as you gave them a small shy smile, before turning to talk to the men who were connecting to the feed of your coms and tracker that were hidden in your earrings and the small pendant that dangled above your breasts. 

Ghost wanted to dump a fresh mag into the men as they fussed with the pendant, hands finding their way too close to your tits.

You took a seat at the table typing away on the computer, all of them couldn't take their gaze away from the glowing dewy skin of your back. Gaz almost lost his mind that you were going into a compound looking like that. 

“Gaz, c’mere.” You said, looking over your shoulder, he dropped what he was doing and walked over to you. He would never deny a pretty woman, especially you in that dress.

They tried to memorize the way your spine bent before it met your hips, the pretty dimples in your lower back, and the way your skin looked as the light highlighted all the alluring curves. 

Gaz stood over your shoulder entrance by how soft your skin looked, “So I got into the compound's camera system, you'll have eyes everywhere-” He nodded watching as your freshly painted hands type. 

“Alright comms are up, you're good to go.” The tech called to Alejandro, he nodded before walking over to you. He grabbed your hand pulling you to stand in front of him, and slid a boastful and loud ring on your ring finger. He looked up and nodded, “You ready, wife?” 

Hearing a deep noise from Ghost's chest as he appeared over your shoulder, announcing his displeasure at the nickname. Looking over your shoulder, linking a pinky with his gloved one, trying to assure the large man. Alejandro chuckled, knowing he was setting them on edge.

He looked down, eyes dilated from the rich smell coming from you, calming slightly.

You pulled away as Alejandro entered the back of the sleek SUV, he extended a hand helping you up into the vehicle. Ghost raked his eyes over the sight of your back as you bent over, clenching his fists to fight the urge to grab the back of your neck and pull you back to him. 

“Be safe.” you said before pulling the door shut, meeting the longing eyes of your team.

…

The team settled into their position on the hill, Ghost setting up his sniper rifle and peering through it. The rest of the team piled around Gaz as he pulled up the live feed from your camera. 

“They're ‘ere.” Ghost called out, training his weapon on the SUV as he watched Alejandro step out before offering a hand to you. 

He watched the way you switched into a different person, the confident smile and siren like eyes you gave Alejandro as you clutched his arm. He couldn't fight the scowl that was carved into his skin. 

“Making contact.” Alejandro leaned in and whispered into the comm in your ear, a deceitful giggle fell from you. 

As you made your way, you swayed up the stairs as your ‘husband’ held your hand, helping you. You gave a confident smile to the juiced up guard, standing tall as he began to pat you both down. 

As he moved down to feel your legs Alejandro growled, “Watch your hands.” The deep sound in his voice as he spoke in Spanish hurried the man along. As the guard finished with him, he came over and layed a arm low over the skin of your hips. 

He pulled you close playing the part of a possessive husband. 

Ghost watched, his sniper trained on the back of Alejandro's head trying to keep his finger off of the trigger. 

“Fuck this mission.” 

…