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tmartin0918 · 4 days ago

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CW: Use of ‘you’, no use of Y/n, Wife! Reader, tired and overworked Price, playful banter

Word count: 1542

~~~~~~~~~~

John Price sat across from you, his wife, a weary look about him. The weight of his job as captain of Task Force 141 showed in every crease and line on his face. His deep-set blue eyes were surrounded by dark circles and his usually rigid stance was slightly slumped, betraying his exhaustion. You watched him quietly, knowing full well the physical and emotional toll his career took on him. You reached out and placed a hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Rough day again?" you asked softly.

John sighed heavily, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Yeah," he said gruffly, his heavy British accent deepening with fatigue. "Just the usual bullshit. Terrorists planning attacks, paperwork piling up. Feels like it never ends."

You nodded sympathetically while your thumb gently tracing circles on the back of his hand. You had seen John like this before, countless times. "You need to take care of yourself, my love," You said softly. "You can't keep going at this pace forever. You're not superhuman."

He grunted in acknowledgment, his fingers automatically intertwining with yours. Despite the tough exterior, he craved your presence and comfort. John wasn't one to openly admit when things were getting to him, but he knew that his wife saw right through his facade. You had known him for too long to be fooled by his stoic demeanor. "I'll be fine," he said gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I've got you to look after me, don't I?"

You smiled at the rare glimpse of vulnerability from your usually stoic husband. "Of course you do," you said warmly. "But you can't push yourself to the brink of exhaustion every time, love. You need rest too. You're not a machine." You could practically hear his retort - something along the lines of "I've been through worse" or "I don't need coddling".

And as expected, John was about to protest, but the words died on his lips. The exhaustion in his eyes told you that he knew you were right. He sighed heavily, running a hand roughly through his short, dark brown hair. "I know," he murmured, his voice gravelly with fatigue. "God, I know. It's just... hard to switch off, you know?"

You nodded, understanding all too well. You had seen the toll his job took on him, not just mentally but physically as well. The sleepless nights, the constant stress and pressure, the scars both visible and invisible. You knew that John was a tough man, but even the toughest people needed rest.

"You've been pushing yourself nonstop for months," you said, your voice still soft and gentle. "When was the last time you had a break? When was the last time you even had a decent night's sleep? And I don't mean sleeping for a short time in your office or in an empty barracks room." She continued.

John winced at that. He knew he had a habit of working himself to the bone, often staying in his office all night, catching brief naps here and there. "It's just the nature of the job," he mumbled, trying to justify his actions. "We're short-staffed, and the workload is insane. I can't just drop everything and take a vacation."

"I'm not saying to drop everything, but I know that there are other task forces to help with what you're doing, and all I'm asking is to wrap up what you're working on and then let the boys and you have a break. I know Johnny and Kyle are in need of a little break."

John sighed, knowing you had a point. There were indeed other task forces who could help with the mission, and his men definitely deserved a break as well. "You're right," he admitted, running a hand through his hair again. "I've just been so focused on getting the job done that I've been neglecting the team. I'll talk to the higher-ups and see if I can arrange for a break. For all of us."

"I'm sure Laswell would agree to a break for all of you as well" You say offhandedly. John chuckled at that. "Yeah, Laswell's a tough one, but she's not heartless. She'd probably agree to the break just to get me off her back." He looked up at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know how to make me see sense, love. That's one of the things I love about you."

"I'm glad someone can make you see common sense" You retort. John chuckled again, appreciating the familiar banter between them. "You're the only one who can keep my stubborn ass in check," he said, a hint of fondness in his gruff voice. "If it weren't for you, I would've probably worked myself into an early grave by now."

You smirked, knowing full well how headstrong he could be. "Someone has to keep you in line," you said, a teasing glint in your eyes. "Otherwise, you'd drive yourself and your entire team to an early grave with your workaholic tendencies."

John couldn't argue with that. He knew damn well that he had a habit of pushing himself and his team to their limits, often neglecting his own well-being in the process. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, feigning annoyance but secretly appreciating her concern. "I get it, I'm a bit of a self-destructive idiot. You don't have to keep reminding me every time."

"You brung it up.” You say as John grunts, unable to argue with that. "Damn it, you have an answer for everything, don't you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. "You're a damn good debater, that's for sure. I don't know why I even try to argue with you half the time."

You simply smiled, clearly enjoying the banter. "You're just stubborn and thick-headed," you say, the teasing lilt in your voice obvious. "But I love you despite your flaws, you big idiot."

"Now what do you want for dinner?" You ask as John's eyes lit up slightly at the mention of food. His stomach growled in response, reminding him that he had skipped lunch in favor of drowning himself in paperwork. "Anything but a military ration meal," he said gruffly. "Those things taste like cardboard, and they're terrible for you. I'd kill for a proper homemade meal, love."

"Shepherd's pie?" You offered and John's eyes lit up while his mouth practically watered at the suggestion. "Shepherd's pie? Bloody hell, yes please," he said, practically drooling at the thought of a warm, hearty meal. "You make the best damn shepherd's pie, love. I swear, sometimes I think I married you for your cooking more than anything else."

You chuckled, amused at his obvious enthusiasm. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you love me or your stomach more," you teased, a smirk on your lips. "You get more excited about food than you do about me sometimes."

John grumbled, feigning offense at her teasing. "Hey, that's not true. I love you more than food..." He paused, considering his words for a moment. "Well, most of the time, at least. But you can't blame me for getting excited about your cooking. It's bloody delicious."

You rolled your eyes, clearly used to his antics by now. "Of course, it's always about the food with you," you said, your tone affectionate despite the mock annoyance. "One day, I'll get you to admit that you love me more than your stomach. Just you wait."

John chuckled, knowing that day was unlikely to ever come. "Fat chance, love," he said, a cocky grin on his face. "My love for food is like the sun shining on a clear day. Constant and unchanging. But my love for you... well, that's more like a rollercoaster. Up and down and all over the damn place."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "One minute, you're all gruff and tough, and the next, you're spewing cheesy romantic lines like you're a walking Hallmark card."

John shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk on his lips. "What can I say? I'm a man of many contradictions," he replied, his deep voice filled with mock pretentiousness. "I'm a rugged task force captain by day, and a sappy romantic by night. The perfect combination, don't you think?"

You rolled her eyes again, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "Keep telling yourself that, love," you said, your tone a mix of exasperation and affection. "Just don't expect me to swoon every time you drop a cheesy line. I'm immune to your charms by now."

"Now, let me go start making the shepherd's pie" John watched as you, his wife, rose from your seat and headed towards the kitchen. He couldn't help but appreciate the way you moved, the gentle sway of her hips and the soft rustle of your clothes. Despite the years they'd been together, he still found you irresistibly attractive.

"Alright, love," he said, his gruff voice tinged with affection. "I'll just sit here and impatiently wait for the deliciousness that is your cooking."

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tmartin0918 · 4 days ago

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Natural Instinct

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SUMMARY

John MacTavish discovers something about his Captain when he is in the throes of his own instincts.

PAIRINGS: omega!John MacTavish x omega! John Price

WORD COUNT: 3,151 words

WARNINGS: Fluff, shitty written omegaverse dynamics

◇ Notes: This is my first time writing anything omegaverse. If it’s shit, I’n sorry. I am learning the ways. Hopefully.

Shoutout to @lialucis @vinnierobot748 @cod-indulgences for letting me nom on their brain worms for this one. You guys are peak.

○●○ NAVIGATION MASTERLIST || COD MASTERLIST

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

JOHNNY MACTAVISH WAS IN A BAD MOOD.

He felt every little pin prick of air that went up his lower back, up his spine, and through the pulsating matter of his brain. His eyes were heavy in his skull, mouth dry, and an instinct to snap at the next person who even looked at him wrong.

It didn't help that he severely miscalculated how much of his suppressants he had left. When he went to take one this morning, the empty case taunted him. A deep mix of unease and anger bubbled in his stomach. It wasn't his fault the team had been on back-to-back operations the last four weeks.

They had just barely gotten home last night.

Now, the omega was wandering the base, attempting to get to the doctor before his sweet scent seeped into the walls. He didn't need alphas up his ass trying to see the new item on the menu. Didn't need the questions. The stares. Any of it.

As far as people were concerned, he could be a beta for Christ's sake.

Johnny's nose tingled as he caught another scent. Soft, sweet, yet still some strong musk he usually associated with alphas. He curled his lip for a moment, wondering if he should proceed with an alpha just around the corner. The doctor was right there. Maybe he’ll just speed pa-

“Sergeant…”

Johnny's feet stopped in their tracks, eyes blinking up to meet the gaze of his Captain. Already, his spine was burning as he naturally straightened up, nose tingling as soon as he realized what was happening.

His Captain was emitting the scent.

Confusion washed over him. He instinctively leaned closer, sniffing the air and analyzing every finer grain that came to him. He was acclimated to muted scents everywhere he went on base. Alphas and omegas were required to suppress.

There was a sweet flowery scent, maybe lavender-like. Or even a mint. There was a deep citrusy scent that reminded Johnny immediately of summertime in Scotland. When he used to curl up by the loch with his sisters–all omega. A twist of satisfaction gripped him when he smelt that, already wanting to dive deeper.

Deeper.

There was a scent Johnny didn’t like. It sweltered with unease, making Johnny's alarm bells ring yet again. It reminded him of sour meat, just starting to reap the consequences of being left out in the sun for too long.

Rotten.

A grumble of discontent hit his chest. Why did his-

“Sergeant.”

A warning. His Captain's gravelly voice demanded attention, and Johnny snapped into place. His blue eyes were wide open when he came back to reality and realized where he was. His nose was dangerously close to the delicate flesh of his superiors' neck.

He never had this blackout before. Where hIs omega chanted for him to keep going. To break that barrier set forth by societal norms. He hadn't smelled natural scents in so long. That must've been it.

Made him long for the comforting vanilla scent his mother had. It wafted throughout his childhood home, easing him and his siblings into a state of contentment. They were safe in their mama's nest, and that had always been true.

“John…”

Johnny had zoned out again.

“Sorry, sir,” Johnny awkwardly pulled back, teeth aching as he gave his Captain space.

When he looked up, Price was watching him intently. His blue eyes were no doubt sizing him up, making an air of caution float around him. He hated being watched. He tried so hard to slip under the radar. To be recognized only as a soldier. A damn good one.

Price was no doubt smelling the omega that he hid in the deep burrows of its den.

He noticed the faint tinge of heat on Price’s cheeks. He parted his lips, eyebrows knitting together at the display. Had he flustered his superior?

It hit him all at once. The barrage of scents entwined to Price like a thick vine. The sweet, docile scents were similar with what he always had been surrounded by. Comfort, submission, home.

Price was an omega like him.

His eyes widened, and Price grew rigid. He pushed Johnny up against the wall and locked his eyes on him. It was intense. Price was evidently no alpha, but it still made Johnny want to tilt his stupid head and bare his neck.

He forgot all about why he was in a turmoil of emotions himself. Too focused on the way his core screamed when Price pinned him like that.

“Not a word…” Price hissed. “You copy, Sergeant?”

Johnny nodded, blinking dumbly at whatever he was looking at. Deep pools of blue. Fuck, why was he reacting to Price this way? He was told it was only alphas that ignited the desire to roll like some brainless mutt. Only alphas possessed the ability to dominate an omega.

Right?

Wrong.

Johnny was hit by the distressed smell yet again, and his omega whined. Part of his pack was in distress. He had to fix it. To make it all filled with contentment. To wash away his own fury. Two Omegas put in a situation he wasn't anticipating when he woke up this morning.

“Sergeant?” Price repeated. “You copy?”

Johnny swallowed down the beast that was clawing up his esophagus, just enough to answer. “Aye, cap. Ah hear ye. Loud and clear.”

Johnny was more focused on how he wanted to rid Price of that stress. Heave it from his bone and squash it like a puny little bug. He had always been protective. But now he could feel those mute instincts bubbling up like acid yet again.

Price observed him again. It made him want to bear his teeth and question the motive. Hiss and spit because he wasn’t used to feeling like this. Like he wanted Price to ask him what was wrong. Wanted to put his nose right up-

No.

“Steamin’ Jesus," Johnny breathed in exasperation. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. He ran a hand over his face and tried to breathe. And this was exactly why he needed his suppressants. “Ah, feck. Ma ‘ead is killin’ meh.”

Price let Johnny go, only to immediately put his hand against his forehead. Johnny waved his hand away, but Price kept it firm. Johnny looked up just in time to see Price’s lips pulling into a bitter frown. His scent… it changed to more of that revolting scent.

Price was reacting to him.

“Ye forget yer pills tae?” Johnny choked out. He was trying to ignore the new symptom that presented itself. A prickle of heat, like a hot flash, overcoming his body. Oh, fuck, was he already dropping into a preheat? No, he couldn’t afford that right now. Not now.

It had been so long he had forgotten what it was like. The insatiable need to be knotted. To exhaust himself on a few days' worth of back and forth hyperactivity. He always hated his heats, and he didn’t have them for long before he was forced into suppression after joining the military.

Price let out a deep sigh. “I’m not the one stinkin’ up the whole block,” he said. His eyes softened, something sympathetic like he knew the pain well. He did. He was an omega fighting to be the top of the food chain like him.

“Ah’m fine,” Johnny brushed off.

Price just planted a gentle hand to his lower back and pushed him forward. “C’mon, sunshine. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Johnny’s brain was hazy. He didn’t know what was worse. Price’s hand idling in the divots of his back, a place he normally protected. Or the way the lack of suppressants made him feel. It was awful. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to hack up his stomach acid and smidgen of digested food, or just roll over and rest.

Nest.

Johnny didn’t pay attention to where he was being guided. He trusted Price. His omega trusted Price. Omega looking out for omega.

He could smell it now. Price’s scent was thicker. Bolder. The vines of the wonderful scent pulled taunt around his ribs. He wanted to be smothered by it. Wanted to lay where it was most prominent.

God, he liked when his omega was pushed down. He was loud and irritating.

Price stopped in front of a door. This was not Johnny’s door. It wasn’t a door he recognized. He looked over at Price, a questioning look in his eyes.

“My room,” he answered. “Not leaving you alone if you’re droppin’ into heat.”

This was wrong. So many things wrong with this. He should turn and keep a distance. It felt so forbidden to breach his Captain’s personal space. It was forbidden. Omega spaces were sacred to their maker. Not just anyone could come in.

Price opened the door, herding the young sergeant inside.

Johnny blinked.

Then he closed his eyes for 3 seconds before opening them again. He wasn’t smacked in the face by the blissful barrage of what he had already discovered. No, there was hardly a dust spec in this room. Hardly breathable air in this room. It was quiet in all the wrong ways.

“Where’s yer nest?” Johnny breathed. “Yer…”

“Never made one…” Price answered. It wasn’t a bashful answer. It was matter-of-fact. Like Price had long accepted a reality that shouldn’t exist.

It made Johnny sad. Even tampered down, he still let himself nest in the comfort of his own privacy. He still exhibited the desire. It was just more docile in nature. It was the only piece of his omega status that he didn’t outright destroy. So, he hated the way that admission stroked the fires of his frustration.

“Nae…” Johnny was suddenly springing into action. “Ye need a nest, ya dafty.”

He found a kicked off blanket on the other side of the bed. It was thicker, more padded, and he was delighted. He picked it up and flipped it out to drape over the bed.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” Price asked incredulously. He didn’t sound mad, more caught off guard. Far too perplexed to even think of scolding his inferior.

“Yer nest is shite, cap,” Johnny proclaimed. He was stressed. He needed to do something with his hands before he keeled over. He was feeling hotter, shifting uncomfortably, and trying to ignore the steadily growing burn in his core. “Nae gonnae leave ‘til ye ‘ave somethin’.”

He should’ve really been heading back to his own room. Calling on a specialist to open up a private room for him to spend the next few days in. He could grab one of his favorite knotted toys and go to town. Be all exhausted and turned around afterward. Before he took time to get all his lost liquids back and hit the ground running again. This time, with enough suppressants.

Yet, he kept himself stiffly grounded in the center of Price’s living quarters.

He mumbled to himself as he worked. Situating the small supply of pillows to fit the long blanket. It wasn’t the best, but he was making the most out of what little he had. He was one man on a mission, helping his fellow soldier sleep a little more comfortably.

“This why ye been holdin’ yer back and fallin’ asleep?” Johnny glared over at Price, fixing him with an intense stare. He pouted, judging the man slightly. “Poor excuse o’ a nest.”

“Wouldn’t have indulged you if I knew you were going to insult my interior decorating skills.”

Johnny grinned. It was lopsided and not fully formed, with big, blue eyes opened wide. He pulled at his shirt’s neckline, clearing his throat awkwardly. He was shit outta luck today. Sweat collected at the back of his neck and dampened his hairline.

“Clothes…” Johnny mumbled.

He looked at Price’s wardrobe, thinking for a long moment. He bit his lip, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he contemplated. That was Price’s own scent. Would that bring comfort? But Price also didn’t have an alpha mate to ripen the nest with.

This was sad.

Had Price ever nested? He didn’t even seem to have the trait at all. Johnny still retained some of the drive despite being on medicine for years. He wondered why Price was different. Maybe it was his age. Being on suppressants longer worsened the effects on his body. That was his only conclusion.

With a deep sigh, Johnny crossed the room and opened the wardrobe. That was when Price intervened. “Oi. This isn’t your playpen, MacTavish.”

“Ah’m makin’ it mah busines,” Johnny declared. “Ye ken ah was gonnae be in mah instincts when ye invited meh. Tha’s on ye.”

Johnny wasn’t afraid of his Captain. Which was why when be was fixed with a glare, he didn’t recoil. Didn’t falter.

Price just chuckled dryly. “Bloody hell, eh. Keep going then.”

Johnny could preen. But he gritted his teeth and shook his head. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be nesting his Captain’s room. Shouldn’t be anywhere near him, relishing in the scent his unsuppressed glands were giving off. It was heavenly.

He had meant plenty of alphas before. Ones too cocky and crazy. He never had any interest in any of them. Didn’t want to be some prize to parade around or keep house. He wanted to be out on the field. Respected solely for what he produced and not what his glands secreted.

And all it took was one whiff of Price’s scent and he was bordering on begging like a damn mutt.

“Ye’re not… ye’re not slippin’ intae heat like meh…” Johnny stated gruffly as he eyed Price.

“Eh? Maybe I’m just broken, sunshine,” Price responded.

Johnny’s frown deepened. He was silently contemplating, and Price rubbed a hand over his head to break the awkwardness. Right, this was very awkward. Johnny couldn’t deny that. In fact, come the end of this heat, he would refuse to look Price in the eye for some time.

How many other people knew Price was an Omega?

“Right…” Johnny muttered before grabbing several articles of clothing. “Will fix ye then…”

He threw Price’s clothes onto the nest, arranging them in a way that screamed perfect to him. His heart rate was faster as he worked, sweat coagulating on his hairline. He honestly feared what would happen when he fully slipped. He hadn’t been in this position in so long. He hated feeling vulnerable. Like some helpless lamb trying to find his legs.

He didn’t want pain. He always hated his omega because of how artificial it felt. He acted so much like an alpha that he wondered if a mixup happened when it came time to present. He despised being a victim to his stupid little brain that needed to be submitted.

His eye twitched as he peeled back from the bed. It was still wrong. Everything was wrong. He could bash his head against the wall. Why was it still wrong?

Scent.

He turned only his upper body, eyes narrowing on Price. The older man’s arms were crossed over his chest, and he was watching Johnny’s whole display. He seemed curious more than anything, his own brain pissing off to where he had to pick himself back up when he must’ve felt Johnny’s eyes.

His entire form screamed “get me out of here.” That rotten distressed undertone of scent still existed. Still needed to be snuffed out. That was the biggest concern now.

Without a word, Johnny herded Price into the nest on his bed. Price obviously was on the defense right away, muttering something about minding his own when Johnny found the audacity to order him around.

Johnny had tunnel vision at this point. He needed to do this. It was a beast gnawing at its enclosure, looking for sustenance. It drooled and snapped as it looked for pliable flesh to sink into. It was overwhelming, this attack on his own carefully crafted repression system.

He couldn’t outrun it. That was the shitty thing. No matter what, the omega always won. He was far more persistent than Johnny could ever hope to be.

“Bloody hell, sergeant!” Price exclaimed when the smaller omega pushed him down into the nest. Johnny let out a low, disapproving growl and projected more of his scent. It was unconscious at this point, Johnny slipping further into his heat.

“Stay…” Johnny grumbled.

The Scot put all his body weight onto Price, trapping him beneath a full muscled body. This could be seen as highly problematic if anyone else walked in on them. Yet, he knew Price would never report him for some weird fraternizing rule. Price was not one that indulged the higher-ups. Nor would he want to explain the nature of why Johnny felt he needed a nest in the first place.

The deep stuttery rumble spooked Johnny at first. He raised his eyebrows and pinned his sights on Price. The Captain looked to be a mixture of peeved and resigned, maybe a bit flustered. In the right mind, Johnny would understand him.

“Ye rumblin’?” Johnny questioned stiffly.

“That’s you, you sod,” Price said.

“Meh?” Johnny repeated. He slackened. Had he really made a noise?

Price just sighed again. “You reek,” he stated.

“So do ye,” Johnny retorted. “Stinkin’ right up in mah nose.”

It went silent again after that.

Until the broken sound started again. Like an engine spluttering its way into life. It was a pitiful sound. Nothing sweet or to beg for more of. It was not some docile omega sitting all proper and pretty for his alpha. It was an omega that was buried deep beneath the cresting waves and was now drowning. One that revolted the societal expectations set forth from the very second he presented.

He was everything an omega wasn’t. He had a temper, played in a field that had a ‘no trespassing’ sign, wanted to advance his career instead of sitting at home with pups, he was cocky, and he didn’t know a damn thing about himself.

The purr vibrated against Price’s chest. The older omega froze, confusion washing over him. He shifted, and Johnny just pressed himself down more. Both of their legs were dangling off the already too small bed. It couldn’t have been the slightest bit comfortable for Price.

But did Johnny care? No.

A raspy, breath-like purr followed his splutter. Johnny’s heart jolted as his head lifted immediately. His pupils dilated naturally in response to the call as his gaze flickered down to Price. If he had dog ears, they would be pinned straight up towards the roof.

He sniffed again and noticed Price’s rotten scent was dwindling. He had done that. He had helped his captain.

Price caught his gaze and made a pained, resigned downturn of his lips. “Not a word of this, Sergeant.”

Oh, Johnny was more than happy to keep this their little secret.

°•○●○•°

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tmartin0918 · 5 days ago

Text

Butterflies in Blood

Originally posted here. AO3 | Part 1

18 Months Prior

You and Maria had been assigned, offered? to the 141 on the same day. Arriving at your room and finding a bunk bed had you turning around and finding the base commander. His secretary, a battle ax in the truest of senses, took one look at your stormy expression and sighed. Janice loved you already, said she had a grandkid like you when you had first sought her out.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we don’t have the space, and it’s tradition to bunk new task members together. Helps encourage bonding,” she continued, muttering under her breath as she pushed away from the desk and huffed to her feet, “and it’s not like I can beat Captain Price until he stops acting like an ass.”

Janice, may any god that existed bless her with health and warm days filled with visits from her grandchildren and friends, introduced you to the base commander. Luis—he insisted you call him by his first name behind closed doors—had listened to his secretary with the air of a man who feared women for good reason. You also feared the wrath of women. Ancient man would have been better off leaving them in charge.

Once everyone understood what the situation was and what problems you expected to arise, Luis offered you a handshake. The simple gesture should not have been so rare as to clog your throat with tears.

Returning to your room, you found Maria. The two of you sized each other up.

“Into men?” was the first thing she said to you.

Sighing, your shoulders dropped.

“Unfortunately. You?”

Her gaze shifted to the corner of the room, “Same. I agree with the sigh of resignation.”

The two of you had shared a laugh. It became the tone of the tenure of friendship.

Maria, with her dark, expressive eyes and zero tolerance for bullshit, fell in step neatly with Lieutenant Ghost. Not you, though. He had grunted ‘You smile too much’ as you had been introduced around the room. Everyone from Price to Gaz treated you slightly differently after the pronouncement. On your first day, too.

Fucker.

Your continued joy was an act of resistance. It always had been. They called you Chuckles from then on. Fucking hated it. Better than what they would end up calling you: Tales. Because ‘dead men tell no tales’, but we aren’t there yet. That wouldn’t happen for another six months.

Years in the military, and sliding between expectations and realities, had taught you to find hiding spots on every base you found yourself on. Bunking with Maria would give you a solid place to retreat, but sometimes being near anyone would be too much. That is where you first ran into Lieutenant Sanderson. He was on loan to SAS from the States. Something about that, and finding him up a fire ladder and hidden from sight lines from the concrete, really struck a chord for you.

Slipping over the edge of the roof, gravel crunches beneath your boots. It pulls a near-silent breath of relief from your lungs. The advantage of the gravel is that you can practice all the silent steps you had been training and watching Captain Price and L.T. Ghost do. Men as big as that should shake the ground like earthquakes. Since they didn’t, you watched. Price moved more interestingly than L.T. did. Could have been his age or his past injuries, but even as he swaggered around, his muscles were always slightly engaged.

It took some testing to find a near-silent step. The mental calculations nearly spent more energy than tightening your muscles before your foot touched down. Twenty minutes you traipsed around. The peculiar sound of gravel shifting to your left stilled your movements.

Silence.

The air conditioning kicking on surprised you. It slithered across your nerves, paired neatly with the feeling of being watched. Crouching, you wait.

It couldn’t be an exterior enemy, not this far into the base. Lord knows you have enough people sniffing for your blood on base that your letter to your grandmother in case of friendly fire sat sealed in your file. Plucking the small blade strapped to your ankle, you crab walk forward. Aware of the knife pointing down, you angle it outside of your thigh. The practice of silent steps is put to the test.

A flicker of motion in the side of your vision has you standing, and your instincts taking full effect. The man is tall. Taller than you, at least. His brows go up over the top of his dark wrap-around glasses. His hands are close to his chest but raised. You wouldn’t call it submission, more wary observation.

“Interesting.” He glances up and down your body. “Form is good, hold a weapon like you know how to use it, and expect threats where others find safety. You must be SAS.”

“That’s a lot of assumptions on a visual inspection,” you reply evenly.

He grins then. Your heart flips in your chest, the organ betrayed you with such regularity that you would cut it from your chest if it would help. He was cute, dammit. The front two top teeth overlapped to the point of notice upon inspection, but the irregularity gave a sense of realness.

“It helps that I’ve seen your file. I’m the transfer from the US. I’ve worked with SAS before, and when they brought me back in to play lieutenant, I got a peek at the new faces.” He holds out a hand before offering his name, “I’m Gary, call sign Roach.”

Narrowing your eyes, you tuck your blade back into your ankle holster.

“Well, come on then, Bugs. Let’s confirm your story. If you’ve been here before, lead me to Price’s office.” Your heart thuds a little harder at his warm grin, even though it is pointed at the gravel.

“Bugs, I like that. Well, let’s go then.” Roach started for the ladder, glancing over his shoulder, “What do they call you? That wasn’t listed in your file.”

The disbelieving huff of air comes through your nose.

“Chuckles. L.T. said I smile too much.”

Roach laughs, loud and honest, as he starts down the side of the building.

“Ah, Simon. Good to know he hasn’t lost his asshole-ish tendencies.”

When his head disappears beyond the edge, you swing over to follow him, muttering to yourself.

“Sure would be nice if he tried.”

Roach laughed again, as if your words had drifted down to him. It made your chest feel tight. You couldn’t afford a crush here, not with a lieutenant that would likely be in charge of you and would never return your affections. There had to be someone easier to rest your affections on.

His laughter haunted your dreams.

Part 4

Masterlist | Taglist

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tmartin0918 · 7 days ago

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Baconavacado

Hooked nose. Ghost. Hooked nose. Ghost with a hooked nose.

Simon Riley has a hooked nose.

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tmartin0918 · 10 days ago

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Feeling like a kid on friggin CHRISTMAS rn!

STORE OPENING ON JULY 20TH - PLEASE READ!!

after taking a break from the online store for a while, i'm happy to say that it'll reopen with LIMITED STOCK on July 20th 8:25AM AEST and will stay open until I run out of stock.

Currently my online store is locked down so that I can safely work on the store functionalities behind the scenes, but on the day it will open to the public.

This store update includes prints! After some thought, I've decided to close my INPRNT store and start directly selling prints from my own store. Currently, all designs only come in A5 sizing, but from convention experience it seems like that's the most popular option with people anyway.

To prepare for this, I've also been revamping a couple of old designs for print.

Disclaimer: If you've already purchased prints from my INPRNT, your order will still be properly fulfilled. However, I've now archived all my designs and will be closing the store once I receive my final earnings.

(PRICES AND SHIPPING INFO UNDER THE CUT)

SHIPPING:

Shipping costs will largely be the same with the US and Europe, varying between $13-$18 USD depending on weight, while Oceania and Asia will vary between $10-12 USD. As all the stock is already here, packages should be able to start getting sent out much faster than the last two times, and you should expect your package within 1-3 weeks from placing your order, depending on where you live. Thank you in advance for your understanding!

PRICES (ALL PRICES IN USD):

A5 PRINTS: $10 each (1 free print for every $65 USD spent)

MONSTER AU CHARMS: $15 each

SLASHER AU CHARMS: $15 each

SUBTLE CHARMS: $13 each

DOGTAGS CHARM: $13

KONIG (DOUBLE-SIDED): $13

INDIVIDUAL STICKERS: $3

STICKERSHEETS: $12

DARK STANDEE: $30

DESERT STANDEE: $33

If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

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tmartin0918 · 10 days ago

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The Ghoap Artbook is here!! 💀🧼💜

🌟Containing 70 pieces of artwork featuring Johnny and Simon 🌟

The book is softcover, and costs US $29.15 (plus shipping) There's a 20% sale at the moment too! (at the time of this posting, use code:TRAVELBOOK20)

Seeing as I've used blurb, the book is print on demand, and will be available indefinitely!

Here is a link to purchase the physical copy--https://www.blurb.com/b/12490970-perfect-shot

I will be honest and say that the print quality is a little bit lacking, but it's still nice to have a physical collection of all of my lovely ghoap arts~

There's a PDF version on the site as well, which I've made available for free to all of my patreon members (consider joining here) :33

This book was very special for me to make; I'm so proud of all the pieces I've done for these characters, so it feels like I'm giving back to them in a way. It definitely felt like a trip down memory lane getting to revisit these artworks and see them all in one place. Plus, it means a lot to get to share it with the fandom <3

I hope you all enjoy!

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tmartin0918 · 13 days ago

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King Simon Riley sharing his Queen with his Knight. CW : threesome, cunnilingus, cum, PiV, biting.

Simon was no fool. He could recognise the gaze of desire in your eyes, you were his wife. Of course he could tell.

Recently, he'd noticed your eyes lingering on not only him when you come to watch his training sessions. But also his guard, Johnny. Your gaze full of hunger, thighs clenching together under your gown.

And Johnny had been staring at you, too. Especially when you would curtsey in front of him, his eyes immediately going to the bust of your gown. His mouth practically salivating.

And when you sometimes got snippy with Johnny for being in the wrong area of the palace? Simon would see Johnny nod, then rush off to a nearby bathroom or closet.

See, Simon wasn't angry at his wife and knight craving to get their hands over one another. He'd felt both you and Johnny quiver underneath him. Though, he hadn't fucked Johnny since his early twenties. But he has no doubts Johnny was still as insatiable as he was back then.

And Simon sometimes got busy, too busy to fuck you the way he knew you craved. He'd only have five or ten minutes to fuck you, when you both knew you needed far longer to be fully satisfied.

Simon told Johnny to stay after a meeting to discuss battle tactics, and had your lady-in-waiting tell you to join them.

Then, Simon confronted you two on your obvious desire for one another, both of you obviously denied it as he expected. Frantically attempting to prove your innocence. Though Simon saw right through it.

Simon silenced you by lifting you up onto the long table, making you gasp as he shoved your gown up, both men realising you were going without panties.

"Simon likes having easy access" You admit sheepishly, Simon smiling wolfishly at you. Pulling your thighs apart, then turning to Johnny, who couldn't take his eyes off your cunt. Simon snapping his fingers at him, grabbing his attention.

"Go on" Simon tells Johnny, "Get on your knees and eat her pussy"

The two of you looked horrified, Johnny opening his mouth hesitantly before Simon grabs the back of his neck and forces him on his knees in front of you, the sound of his leg plates hitting the stone floor echoing in the room.

"Mate...Yer serious?" Johnny asked, eyes flickering between your glistening heat and Simons dark eyes. While it seemed Johnny was being a good friend by making sure Simon was okay with this, he was really just waiting for permission. Because the moment Simon gives a nod, Johnny shoved his face between your legs. Groaning at the scent and taste of you, his hips bucking up against nothing as you grab his hair and pull.

Simon could see the guilt and shame intertwining with the pleasure his Knight was giving you. He knew that would prohibit you from coming, which he wouldn't allow.

Simon stepped closer to the table, leaning in and biting down gently on your collarbone. "'S alrigh' love, want to watch you get fucked by my Knight" Simon whispered against the hollow of your throat, sucking the skin there for a moment. And you nod breathlessly at his words.

Simon smirked and bit you one more time before turning to Johnny and barking orders at him. The knight hurriedly getting up from his knees and unclasping some of his armour, his cock leaking pre cum, your mouth salivating at the sight. But before either you or Johnny could do anything, Simon grasped Johnnys cock and nudged the tip between your swollen folds. Making you whine and buck your hips.

You grabbed Johnnys shoulder tightly as Simon let him thrust into you. He wasn't as thick as Simon, but by the Gods, he was long.

Simon asked you a silent question, if you were ready for Johnny to fuck you, if you were adjusted to his size. And once you nod, Simon looked at Johnny.

"Fuck your Queen the way she deserves. Prove your worth, Knight" Simon growled, his tone when using Johnnys title mocking. Yet you swore you saw Johnnys pupils dilate.

Johnny grabbed your left leg and pushed it up against your chest, his hips immediately setting an unforgiving pace. Which had you moaning loudly, echoing within the room.

"O-Oh fuck- oh by the Gods!" you cry out, Johnny panting like a dog above you.

"Yer so fucking tight Bonnie" Johnny groaned, his hand moving between you to rub at your clit, Making you arch against him.

"Feel good, Birdie?" Simon asked, and you nod dumbly, your chin being roughly grabbed. "Words" your husband growled.

"It's good, it's so so good, Si. Fuck I'm close! Gonna come!" you gasp, thighs tensing and trembling.

"Never heard a pretty Royal like yerself speak so dirty, lass" Johnny grinned, angling his hips until you nearly screamed under him. Your release flooding you, head tilting back as your gummy walls clench down on Johnnys cock so tightly he can barely move. But it was enough, Johnny getting close, Simon could tell.

Simon grabbed Johnny by his grown out mohawk, "Don't you dare come in her, I don't need an illegitimate heir because of you" he threatened. You wanted to protest, to tell your husband to be kinder to his Knight, but from the look on Johnnys face and the small whine he let out, you realise he enjoyed when Simon was mean. An unsurprising revelation, to say the least.

You huff and whimper at the sudden emptiness when Johnny pulled out, but your eyes don't leave his cock as he tugged it furiously, your stomach soon being covered in milky ropes.

Simon chuckled and carefully shoved Johnny to the side, fishing out his own cock despite your tired glazed over eyes and trembling legs, smirking down at you when he grabs your hips and manhandled you to his liking.

"Come on now, love. Let's show Johnny how a King fucks his wife"

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

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