#Johnny soap MacTavish x reader

[chamomiletealeaf]

Johnny would roughly suck on your nipples to feel your piercings on his tongue acting all dominant and then become really subby feeling mommy's tits in his mouth.

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[haven-1307]

I can’t get puppy play with soap and ghost out of my head, I mean Simon (let’s be real he’s more Ghost during a ‘scene’) being the rough and tough dom he is, and Johnny being the most needy, pathetic bitch begging for any attention he can pry out of reader. He’s desperate, he’s grinding on anything he can and leaking everywhere, Ghost completely ignores his presence and reader conflicted because on one hand, needy and desperate Johnny is her wet dream, on the other Ghost is so hard on him it scares her.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

[crestapex]

Price: What kind of girl do you prefer?

Ghost: My wife.

Price: Now what kind of girl do you prefer?

Soap: Ghost’s wife.

[moongreenlight]

Johnny is the kind of guy that you hook up with when you’re on a girls trip and fully expect to never see him again.

But it turns out he was on deployment so when you go home and start seeing him at the grocery store you think there’s no way it could be him. Has to be a trick of the light.

It’s not. When he sees you in the frozen aisle he’ll come straight up behind you and grope your ass like he has the right.

“Knew it was ye. Know you better from this angle than the front, anyhow.”

[reveluving]

Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤

LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 

And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.

“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.

And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?

Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.

And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 

With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.

You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 

Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.

But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 

In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”

And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.

It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.

Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.

Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.

‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).

But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.

Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?

“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.

But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.

A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 

Oh, the seats.

John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 

Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 

Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 

Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!

“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Sounds like a keeper to me.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 20: The New Normal

Summary: Your pack settles into a routine as you learn to adapt to the shifting relationships between all of you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count:

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threesome, BDSM elements, dry humping, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, smoking, Gaz being the prettiest boy alive.

A/N: Not much to say about this one. Hope it's worth a two week wait...

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A yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your body hitting the floor rather ungracefully. You roll from the force of the impact, stopping flat on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch the breath that was forced from your lungs from your impact with the floor. 

“You left yourself too open again.” 

“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You say, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit as you catch your breath. 

“You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.” 

You stare at Simon’s shoes as he stops a foot away from you. The laces are pulled to the exact same tension on both sides, double knotted to avoid them coming undone and becoming a tripping hazard. Even the way his crew socks are pulled up over the legs of his sweatpants speaks volumes of how on guard he is. Always ready for a fight, always ready so that nothing can get in his way and put him at risk. 

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”

Your gaze finally leaves his shoes, trailing up his legs to his arms where they rest on his knees. You follow the lines of his tattoos until you reach where his shirt sleeve covers the rest. You work your way up until you reach his mask-covered face, finally meeting his brown eyes. There's a softness to them now you've never noticed before, something you might not have taken notice of now had you not become brave enough to look that deep. 

“Better,” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”

This morning had started with you shaking in Johnny's hold, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear. The nightmares haven't gone away since your confession, nor have they even really lessened, but at least now you aren’t suffering alone when they wake you from your sleep. At least now your pack knows how to best comfort you when your mind insists on silently torturing you. 

You still haven’t slept alone since they returned, nor have you spent any great length of time in your room. There’s still a lingering feeling of someone watching, of something staring at you from inside the walls. You’ve checked while they were at training for any cameras you might have missed, but you’ve come up empty handed. Maybe it was just the knowledge that your safe space had been invaded causing that paranoid itching in the back of your mind to linger. None of the guys have complained about you staying with them at night, though perhaps you have your confession about your nightmares to thank for that.  

“The nightmares?” Ghost asks, snapping you from your thoughts. 

You nod. “Yeah.”

The risk of them finding out about your nightmares has made you less afraid to sleep, but still the fear of what horrible scene your mind will come up with keeps you awake. You pull your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you sit in front of him. He’s just so big, so broad and bulky, truly the ideal specimen of a perfect alpha. He’s the kind of alpha your fellow omegas at the institute would whisper about. Some big, strong protector who would provide for them and keep them safe and satisfied. 

If only they could see you now. 

Despite the shift in your relationship with Simon, things haven’t changed much. He’s still the quiet, looming figure behind you, posing a silent threat to anyone who might think about approaching you. He still places a hand on your back to steer you, still stands closer behind you than he used to, still looks at you with a softer look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before. Sometimes you’re tempted to push that boundary first, to lean in and rest your head on his broad chest, feel the muscle under his shirt again. You want to press up against his back while he sleeps and let his warmth seep into your bones. Sometimes when you’re alone and your thoughts begin to run rampant, you think about how you have nothing to fear because Simon would rip the face off anyone who tried anything. 

Of course, he has to be here in order to do that. 

You won’t have to be alone again. John had promised you that much. He’d fight harder to make sure you’re not alone again. Not, at least, for a while if it can be avoided. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” Simon says, pulling you from your thoughts for a second time. 

You stare at him, suddenly realizing he’s moved closer to you. You’re not sure when he did, too caught up in your own thoughts to be aware of your surroundings. It’s dangerous, your ability to sink into your mind and get lost there. You know it and they know it. Yet you can’t help it. It’s safer in your head, easier to exist in a place where you’re in control, where you can predict what’s going to happen next. 

Simon’s hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer to him. You fall flat on your back on the mat, body sliding partially under his. He looms over you, settling his weight across your thighs as his hands come to rest on either side of your head. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as it usually does when you’re in this position.  

“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks, the sharpness back in his gaze as he stares down at you. 

Lay here and don’t move, or at least that’s what you want to do currently. He’s just so big and warm, and the way he makes you feel so small under him has your head spinning. How you wish he’d press his body into yours, let you feel him completely. The scents in the air begin to thicken as you find your head tilting back on instinct, baring your throat to him in submission. 

His hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze back on his. “Focus.” He says, projecting his scent more to try and cover yours. It goes straight to your head, your gaze sharpening just slightly as you stare up at him. The scent of alpha around you has your mind racing in several different directions. You know you should be afraid, but it’s Simon. You know him, you trust him. He’d never hurt you intentionally, but he’s still an alpha. 

The strong musky scent has something in the back of your head prickling, your instincts teetering on the edge of safety and danger. You know the alpha over you, but what if it was someone else? That was the point of all of this, right? You won’t be fighting off Simon or John. It will be someone unfamiliar, someone who wants to hurt you. 

Simon’s fingers leave your chin, trailing down your neck. Your pulse thrums faster as his fingers near the base of your throat. The scent of alpha is strong in your nose. How easily he could slip his hand around the back of your neck and squeeze, rendering you brainless and under his control. 

Your mind goes blank and you move without even thinking. Your fist slams into his side right where he’d taught you to hit. He buckles at the sudden attack and you use his moment of surprise and disorientation to free one of your legs and drive your knee right into his stomach. You push him off of you, scrambling back a couple feet before your mind begins to clear. Simon lays on the mat, almost wheezing as he tries to get the air back into his lungs. 

You flounder there for a moment, watching the giant alpha you had just incapacitated. You don’t know where that came from or how you’d managed it. No, that’s not totally true. You know where the fear had come from, but you also know Simon would never do something like that to you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, shifting onto your knees in case Simon retaliates, in case he gets angry at you for attacking him. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.” 

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his response. “What?” 

“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He says, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.” 

You continue to stare at him, not quite sure how to process the sort-of praise from him. He had asked you what you should do if you were pinned, and you had done what you were supposed to do. It hadn’t quite been for the right reasons, but you did do something correctly. You managed to incapacitate him enough to get out from underneath him, and without him going easy on you. 

Maybe the training is working after all. 

“Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.” 

You continue to stare at him as he passes you, heading to the bench where your belongings sit. You’re still kneeling there on the mat in surprise. You hadn’t expected such genuine praise from him. But why not? He’s doing this to train you, to teach you how to defend yourself against anyone who might want to hurt you. Anyone who’s stupid enough to try something when they’re not here to defend and protect you. 

Something that’s already happened. 

You’ve finally managed to defend yourself, to apply the things he’s spent weeks teaching you successfully. Why shouldn’t he be proud of you for that? 

You’re still getting used to this new side of him, this accepting side, the softness that he’s showing you in his own way. It’s what you wanted, what you’ve been trying to achieve for weeks now, and now that you have it...you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Where does the boundary lie? What if you push too far? Will things go back to the way they were before? Will he shut you out completely? 

Hands slip under your arms, lifting you to your feet. You turn, your head tilting back to stare up at Simon. He’s wearing that emotionless mask on his face, or at least that’s what you picture as you stare up at his eyes. It’s the look he carries the most, giving away nothing and effectively hiding what he’s feeling. You wish you could see his face. You’ve tried to draw up images of what he might look like, what he hides under the mask. He can’t be ugly, at least not totally. Johnny had reassured you of that much, but you wish for just a glimpse more than his chin and his lips when he eats. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you. 

“Sorry.” You blink, trying to pull yourself from the depths of your mind once again. 

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, tilting his head towards the door. 

You follow him from the gym, his steps markedly slower compared to how he used to walk. Gone are the days of almost having to run to keep up with him. You could almost swear he takes smaller steps too, instead of his normal long, purposeful strides. It’s almost as if he’s out for a stroll instead of being forced into the task of escorting you to breakfast. 

His hand finds your back again as you enter the mess, guiding you through the tables to the line to get food. His palm is warm where it’s pressed against the middle of your back, his fingers splayed, pressing just slightly into your skin through your shirt as an alpha soldier passes just slightly too close to you. 

He still won’t fill your tray for you, but you can respect that. It’s a big step, and only done if there’s interest in courting or caretaking. You don’t expect that level of intimacy from him, certainly not right now. Perhaps never. 

He’s not your alpha. 

He guides you to the table where the others are sitting, and you take your normal spot between John and Kyle. They both shift just slightly closer to you almost subconsciously. Everything is almost a subconscious action now. Simon’s guiding hand on your back, your alpha moving closer to you, the betas keeping you between them whenever you’re with them. It’s a good sign, or at least you think it is. It feels right, a sort of easy flow that has developed between the five of you. One you don’t have to think very hard about. 

“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks between shoveling bites of eggs into his mouth. 

“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.” 

All eyes at the table turn to him despite your nonchalant tone. It wasn’t the first time it’s ever happened, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

“She took me down herself afterwards.” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his porridge. 

Now all eyes at the table are on you. Your cheeks warm and you slowly start to make yourself smaller under their gazes. 

“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” Simon continues, his gaze lifting so he’s staring at you too. 

“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, grinning widely at you. 

“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently. 

“Guess so.” You shrug, still feeling a bit bashful under the attention. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.” 

“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says. 

You nod. Right. Run first. Like you should have opened the window and ran when that beta knocked on your door. Like you should have run when you noticed your door was open. Like you should have run when someone tried to get into your room. 

How disappointed they’d be if they knew how you failed to follow even the most basic instructions. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed the cameras? Would whoever tried to get into your room that night still have tried to enter? What if the door had been unlocked? What if they had gotten in? What would you have done, then? Try to disarm them enough to run to Dr. Keller? 

That is what you were supposed to do. 

Instead you had been stupid and froze in your fear and let it all happen, and now you can’t even tell them. It’s too late, it’s been too long. They’d be too upset if you confessed now instead of if you’d done it right when they returned. 

You have to bury it now and hope it stays that way for the rest of time. 

John is the one that walks you back to the barracks after breakfast. You don’t remember the last time he walked you to a meal or back from it. Usually he was too busy doing his job, or setting up things, or whatever else it is he does. Walking you back to the barracks was far too menial a task for how busy he is. 

You hold his hand as you walk, close enough that his arm brushes your side with every step. You don’t let go of his hand even when he walks you to your door, keeping your fingers laced as you turn to look up at him. 

“You gonna be alright on your own?” He asks, staring down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

No. You’re almost tempted to say it, to throw your arms around him and confess, to beg him to keep you close, to stay, to take you with him. Anything so you won’t have to be alone ever again. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. “Yeah.” 

For a moment, just a moment you think he doesn't believe you. There’s a second of hesitation, a cold chill running down your spine as your anxiety spikes. What if he knows you’re lying? What if he’s testing how long you’ll keep up the charade? How long you’ll try to keep them in the dark about what happened. He knows something is wrong. He can tell.

Your back meets your door as he crowds you in, releasing your hand so he can press both into the wood on either side of you. Something warm stirs in your stomach as you stare up at him, feeling very small as he looms over you. 

He lets out a low rumble in his chest as he leans down. For a moment you’re expecting a kiss, but he moves to the side at the last moment, nudging your chin so it’s tilted up, bearing your throat to him. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” He murmurs against your neck, his beard prickling the sensitive skin. “Have we been neglecting you for too long?” 

Saying yes wouldn’t be a lie. They haven’t really sought you out in that way since their return. The most you’ve gotten in the last almost two weeks was when Johnny slipped his hand into your sleep shorts, and you returned the favor. John and Kyle hadn’t really even tried to initiate anything, treating you more like you’d shatter into a million pieces if they touched you too much. 

Maybe a good fuck would solve some of your issues. 

It would at least help you forget for a while. 

A quiet moan leaves your lips as John sucks on your mark, the imprint of his teeth scarred into your skin. The mark that claims you as his, bonded to him for the rest of your life. 

Lust and desire burns hot in your veins and you find yourself cupping his face, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him. He lets out a growl against your lips as you kiss him like you want to devour him, your hands sliding to his shoulders to tug him closer to you. His hands drop from the door to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him, his cock hardening through his cargo pants. 

You’d let him take you right here, right now, right in the hallway. You don’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone would be able to see you. It feels almost like it would cleanse the barracks, free you from the fear in your mind. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable out in the open could wipe away the worry that there’s someone around every corner, someone watching you. 

Getting railed by your alpha against the very door that separated you from the room that now held your worst nightmares might just fix you. 

But, just like everything else that’s happened recently, you don’t get that chance. 

John’s watch begins to beep in your ear, causing him to pull away from you. You let out a quiet whine as you’re forced apart, suddenly feeling chilled from the loss of warmth against you. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. “I have to go.” 

You wish he didn’t. You’re half tempted to beg him to stay, to fuck his job, his duties. You want him to stay, to give all his attention to you, just for a few hours. You want him to erase the fear and the anxiety and fix you. 

“We’ll continue this later.” There’s a promise to his tone that he’s not done with you, a guarantee that you will get to continue this once the day is over, when he can go back to being your alpha instead of a captain. He leans in, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You nod, watching him walk out of the barracks, the door closing softly behind him. You lean against your door for a few moments longer before letting out a breath. There’s still warmth swirling in your stomach, your underwear sticking to your damp folds. An idea pops into your head. You don’t want to go into your room, you don’t want to be in there alone right now. 

Instead you head for Price’s room, unbuttoning your pants as you close the door behind you. You strip out of your pants before you climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable. You’re going to give him a little present, a little something in revenge for leaving you high and dry, a little something to help him look forward to tonight.

Screaming. It’s all you can hear. It makes your ears ring and your head throb. Hands cling to you, nails biting into your skin. Something’s pulling on you, trying to rip you away. You’re stuck in a brutal tug of war. It hurts, but no one can hear you over the screaming. Tears are sliding down your cheeks, blazing a trail along your skin. You shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be upset. 

He hates it when you cry. 

Alphas don’t cry. 

You’re not an alpha. 

You’ve committed the worst sin in his eyes, denying him the perfect pack. You’re a stain on his perfect ledger, a mistake that never should have happened. 

He’s going to make sure you’re wiped from memory, from history, just as he wants. 

“You can’t take her from me!” Your mother’s voice is frantic, her nails biting into your arm as she tries to pull you back into the safety of your arms. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” Your father’s fingers dig painfully into your other arm, trying to pull you away from your mother, away from your life. He’s going to throw you out like you’re nothing more than trash. 

The screaming gets louder as you’re yanked from your mother’s hold, and you’re not sure if it’s her screams or your own piercing your ears. 

“We have to ensure the success of this program.” The voice has changed. It’s not the cruel hands of your father holding you anymore. “It’s imperative to the future of militaries around the world.” 

“No!” You scream, kicking, fighting, lashing out, but the hands won’t let go. They’re like a vice around you, like a constrictor slowly getting tighter and tighter. 

“All you have to do is be a good omega,” A hand slips around the back of your neck, your skin burning from the touch. The warning is screaming in your head, louder than the screams of protest spilling from your lips. “And do exactly as you’re told.” 

The fingers dig into your neck, your mind flashing for a second before it goes blank. 

“No!” 

You move before you’re even fully awake, sitting up straight in bed. Your hands close around the back of your neck as you curl into yourself, taking a defensive, protective position. You can still feel the cold hand on your skin, the fingers biting into the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re crying, tears and snot dripping down your face as you press it against your knees. 

“No!” Another terrified cry leaves your lips as hands meet your skin, not cold or clammy, but warm and gentle. Your half asleep brain is stuck in your nightmare and can't rationalize the difference, not while you're perceiving everything as a threat. 

“Easy, easy.” A voice says, speaking quietly, calmly. You recognize that voice. It’s not one from your dreams. Arms slowly wind around you, pulling you against a warm chest. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.” 

Your breaths are rapid and shaky as you slowly begin to come back to your senses. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. You know that voice. 

“Alpha?” You whimper, desperately seeking the confirmation that it’s really him, that you’re really awake and free from your nightmare. 

“I’m here.” He says, clutching you tightly against his chest. “Need you to breathe for me.” He pushes your head against his chest so you can feel his breaths. 

You’re still crying, your breaths catching in your chest almost painfully as you attempt to follow your alpha’s deep, steady breaths. His arms are still tight around you, pinning you against his chest. His beard tickles your forehead as he leans his chin against your head. He’s projecting his scent, the smell of earth and petrichor mixed with the musk of alpha seeping into your brain. 

“Good girl.” He praises you as you begin to relax, your joins unlocking from their stiffened positions, your muscles slowly loosening from how contracted they had been in your defensive position. You could have slipped into distress easily in that position, the level of fear higher than you’ve felt in a long time. 

He loosens his hold on you just slightly as you begin to unravel yourself as you calm down. Your hands are still clamped around the back of your neck, your fingers trembling from how stiffly they’re held against your most vulnerable spot. 

“Keep relaxing.” He says quietly, his lips brushing your hairline. “I’ve got you.” 

He continues to speak to you quietly, letting you work yourself out of your tense, defensive position. You slowly begin to slide your hands away from your neck as your mind begins to clear and you realize there’s no threat to you, nothing waiting just outside your line of vision to attack. Your alpha has you, you’re safe with him, well protected. 

The tears continue to fall, however, as you think back on your nightmare. It had felt so real, maybe because in a way it had been real. You had been pulled from your mother, from your home to the institute, then from the institute to the CIA, from the CIA to here and straight into General Shepherd's lap. 

“Promise me,” You gasp out, your voice hoarse from crying. “Tell me you’ll never scruff me.” 

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’ll never scruff you.” 

You press your face into his chest, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He could always go back on his word, he could change his mind, decide you needed to be scruffed. You know it’s foolish, having those kinds of thoughts. He’s never once gone back on his word, never once proved himself untrustworthy to you. 

“I need to know if you've ever been scruffed before.” He asks, the authority slipping into his voice. 

A frown pulls at your brows. You can’t remember if you’ve ever been scruffed before. Was it possible you had, but had been made to forget? Everything you’ve learned about scruffing says you would know, even if you don’t remember what happened after. It’s a very distinct feeling returning to your mind afterwards. It’s just something you’d know.

“No? I-I don’t think so?” You say. “At least I can’t remember, but I think it’s one of those things that you would know if it happened.” 

“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve seen the aftermath. You would know if it had ever happened to you.” 

His words bring a shred of relief to your worried mind. You don’t want to know, you don’t want to ask how he knows, why he knows. It’s not likely he would have been able to tell you anyway. Just another secret, just another thing kept in the dark. You knew from early on  they’d have their secrets, things they wouldn’t ever be able to tell you. You just never expected to have one of your own. 

You curl up closer against his chest, pushing the thoughts and the guilt hanging over your head away in favor of soaking up the calming presence of your alpha. For a moment, just a moment, you can imagine everything will be alright. What’s in the past will stay there and nothing will come back to haunt you. You can just move on, and pretend like nothing happened. 

You know it’s not true, but for just a moment, you can pretend that it is. 

He hates it. 

He hates the way he feels. 

The subtle change to his heart rate, the way his insides feel like they’re fluttering, twisting. The disappointment eating him when his existence is ignored entirely in favor of those who were brave enough to open up, to allow you in. 

Why is he disappointed? He’s done nothing but brush you off, keep you desperately at arms length despite your attempts to wiggle in through the slowly widening cracks in his resolve. Cracks that were formed by your very insertion into their lives. They were happy, they were fine. Then you came along and fucked everything up. 

The worst part? 

He likes it. 

He wanted to hate you. For so long he fought that desire in him to be near an omega again, to be close enough to smell your sickeningly sweet scent. He tried to hate you, tried to ignore you, push you away from the walls he’s spent decades building up. Walls that threatened to crumble thanks to your very existence. 

He’s not sure when the change happened. It was gradual, a shift in his hatred that became fascination that quickly morphed into something more. Something forbidden. Maybe it was when you submitted to him during training, or maybe it was after your first time with Johnny when his beta had looked far too pleased, and shared the intimate details of what you had done to him far too easily. Johnny’s need to yap had won out and his beta’s words had caused a stirring in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

A stirring he’d been able to ignore for so long. 

For a moment, just a moment there had been fleeting curiosity. Would you try to take control with him? What if he let you do it? How long could you keep it up before you tired out and your true nature took over? 

He stuffed those thoughts into the far recesses of his mind, refusing to allow them forward. He’s not getting soft, he’s not going to allow you any closer to his already cracking walls. 

He tells himself that, at least until they leave. Until he sees the effect you have on his pack. The ripples in the bonds, the changes that happen almost as soon as the ramp of the plane shuts, separating you from them for the first time since your arrival. 

He’s a good soldier. He can pretend nothing’s wrong, force the feelings into the back of his mind better than anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

It had hurt when you ignored him on your return, throwing yourself into Price’s arms desperately and clinging to him like he might disappear. The betas had sandwiched you between them, letting you cling to them desperately as you trembled and cried. It was pathetic, but not quite as pathetic as the bitterness and the sting of disappointment in his chest. 

He tried not to let himself feel it, tried to bury himself in his paperwork, tried to keep the feelings at bay, at least until Johnny had knocked on his door, mattress in tow telling him to get a blanket and head for Price’s room. 

It was Kyle’s idea. Had to be. Kyle is the most nurturing of the four of them, and judging by the state of you, he must have done it because he thought it would help. 

By the time he grew the balls to enter the makeshift nest, the betas had already sandwiched you between them, your form almost smothered completely under Johnny. Price had laid himself out on Kyle’s other side, and the space for him was made up of mostly Johnny’s mattress. It had to have been a deliberate move, meant for his own comfort. Sweet Johnny and his beta senses. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done. It had just happened naturally. 

It’s at Johnny’s pestering insistence that he climbs into the nest finally, laying stiffly on the mattress behind his beta. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a nest. He doesn't sleep, not much anyway, but neither does Price. Both of them are too awake, too aware, too alert. The betas sleep peacefully and so do you, probably the most sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. 

The warmth in the room gets unbearable fast, the blankets quickly kicked to the end of the mattresses, along with his own sweatshirt. It’s like a sauna, and for a moment he considers opening the window, but he’s too afraid to move, too afraid to disturb the nest. 

It’s when Johnny gets up to go to the bathroom that you finally move, the first time in hours. You roll into the space he had vacated, lips slightly parted as you breathe in and out easily. Johnny, the bastard, takes your empty spot, trapping you between them. He turns his back to you in hopes you stay as still as you had before, which works for a while. At least, until he feels something press up against his back. He goes still, every muscle tensing as you bury your face between his shoulder blades. He should turn over, push you away. He should nudge you back towards Johnny, let you seek out his warmth instead. Yet, he can’t bring himself to move.

He shouldn’t like it. He can’t. He can’t allow you in, he can’t let you past his rapidly crumbling walls. Yet, he does like it. He wants to feel you pressed against him, he wants to see that hidden part of you that had brought his beta to his knees so easily. 

He’s supposed to be keeping his distance, and yet, here you are, forcing your way in again. It almost feels like a silent apology for yesterday, your subconscious picking up on his disappointment, and so now it’s offering him this moment in hopes he’ll forgive you. 

It’s working. 

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you listen to the steady beating beneath your ear. The scent of coconut and saltwater floats in the air, taking your mind far away, back to a different time when things were simpler. Kyle’s calloused fingers trail across your arm, drawing absentminded patterns across your skin. You press your face against his warm skin, your hand splaying across his stomach. You can feel the ridges of his muscles, the way they flex with every breath. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, his lips brushing your forehead as he speaks. 

“Just thinking about when we used to go to the beach when I was younger. Back when my dad was stationed in North Carolina for a few months.” 

“You like the beach?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. There’s just something calming about it. I don’t mind the sand and I like the sound of the waves hitting the shore.” 

“We could go to the beach.” He says, making you tilt your head up just slightly. “When the weather’s nicer, closer to summer. Take a few days off, go on a vacation.” 

“You could do that?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can see him fully. 

He smiles at you, his hand dropping to your back. “We do get to go on leave every so often, barring nothing urgent happens while we’re away. I’ll talk to Price about it. We can start making some plans, if you want.” 

You stare down at him, the softness in his gaze, the slight upward tilt of his lips. He might as well have just promised you the world with how he’s looking at you. Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you stare at him. You don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve such kindness, such care after lying to them. You can trust Kyle. He’d be the least angry, at least towards you, if you confessed right now. It would be so easy, but you’re not sure you could stand watching the love and happiness fade from his eyes as you confessed to your stupidity, your deception. 

“What is it?” He asks, his brows furrowing. Of course he’d pick up on the shift of your emotions, the sudden anxiety twisting in your stomach. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We could do something else, or nothing at all.” 

“It’s not that.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just...I don’t deserve you. All of you. You’re too good to me.” 

“Oh, love, that’s not true.” He says, gently cupping your cheek. “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re too good for us. The things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done. We’re not good people, and yet we were blessed with an absolute angel.”

Tears gather in your eyes for a different reason now. You certainly don’t feel like an angel. You’re too broken and you’ve lied and made stupid mistakes. “I’m hardly an angel.” 

“Well, in comparison to us, you are.” He gently presses against your back, drawing you closer to his face. “Our angel, our sweet little omega.” 

A shiver runs down your spine from the way your status sounds from his lips. His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against his. You can feel his breath on your lips, your tongue darting out to wet your own in anticipation. 

He tastes like mint toothpaste, his tongue immediately pushing past the seam of your lips. His kiss steals your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you in place as he licks into your mouth. Your hand settles on his chest for balance, feeling his heart racing under your palm. 

You shift over him, throwing a leg across his hips as you settle against his chest. His hand releases your hair, tracing a line down your spine to your hips. The shirt of his you had changed into before crawling into bed with him has ridden up, revealing the lacy panties you're sporting underneath. He groans against your lips as his fingers trace over the lace before slipping underneath, tugging them lightly. 

You pull away from his lips, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need more pairs of these at this rate.” 

“We’ll have to take a trip and pick up more.” He grins, snapping the waistband against your skin. 

You bite your lip, pressing yourself up so you’re sitting over his hips. You can feel the growing bulge beneath his shorts as you begin to grind against him. He’s gone commando, your clit catching on his head through the thin fabric. Your hands press into his stomach, feeling the muscles contract as your scent thickens in the air. His hands close around your hips, guiding you as you grind against him. His eyes are hooded as he stares up at you, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

You stare down into those big brown eyes, getting lost in the depth of them. If you could melt yourself into him, seep under his skin and become one with him, you would. He might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. He might as well be sculpted from marble, or pulled right from a piece of artwork. 

You shift so you’re leaning forward, your clit dragging against his stomach as you continue moving your hips. You grasp his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair.” 

He chuckles, giving you a dazzling, perfect smile. “Thank you, love.” He wraps his arms around you, pushing himself up to sit so you drop into his lap. “But I’m nothing compared to you right now.” 

He keeps you grinding against his lap, his hands squeezing your ass as you soak the front of his shorts with every drag of your hips. Your head falls back as you moan, the friction against your clit quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. 

“Haven’t even touched you yet and got you all worked up. You could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” He nips playfully at your lips, sliding his hand down further to press against your lace covered pussy. 

You let out a whine, releasing your hold around his shoulders long enough to tug off your shirt. He curses quietly as your skin is revealed to him, his hands trailing up your back. 

“Fucking hell, love.” He groans, pushing his hips up into you. 

“Kyle,” You moan his name, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Need you.” 

He curses again, wrapping his arms around your waist for leverage as he flips you over onto your back. He sits up on his knees, trailing his hands down your sides until he reaches the waistband of your panties, trailing his fingers across the lace for a moment. 

“You alright?” He asks, checking in with you. 

You nod, lifting your feet so they press against his chest. “You gonna take them off already?” 

He grins, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs before tossing them to the floor. He parts your thighs to give himself room as he pulls off his own shorts, his cock springing free from the confining fabric. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, your teeth sinking into your lip in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” He breathes as he pushes your thighs further apart, dark eyes glued to your glistening folds. 

He slides his hands down your thighs, his thumb ghosting over your clit. Your hips jerk in response, pushing up against his hand. He chuckles, repeating the motion, watching the way your lips part in a moan. 

“Always so sensitive.” He smirks, pressing his thumb into the bundle of nerves. “Even after Price fucked you senseless a couple nights ago.” 

Your face warms at his words, your stomach fluttering excitedly. Of course they had heard you. You’ve long given up on trying to hide what goes on behind their closed doors. They all know, they already knew from the first night you spent with John. 

He had been rather rough that night, fucking you into the mattress so hard the headboard had scraped some of the prison grey paint off the walls. You had asked for it, though, both of you needing the raw, carnal release it had given you. 

“Yeah, we all heard that.” Kyle continues, slowly circling your clit with his thumb as he speaks. “Sounded like a couple of animals in there. If you hadn’t been screaming his name over and over, we might have been worried he’d mauled you to death. Simon and I had to keep Johnny occupied so he wasn’t tempted to join you.” 

Your pussy flutters at the thought of the three of them together, riled up by you and John. You can almost picture it, Johnny in Simon’s lap, bouncing on his cock while Kyle sucks him off from the front. Or did Johnny submit to both and suck Kyle’s cock while Simon took him from behind? Or was Simon more of a giver and sucked him off while Kyle fucked him? Or did Simon take both of them after making them both suck his cock? 

The endless stream of thoughts has your pussy clenching, slick dribbling out of you as your legs start to shake. It’s almost too much with the pressure against your clit, your body heating from the fire ignited in your veins. 

“Liked that, didn’t you?” Kyle smirks, removing his hand from your clit to lean down over you. “Maybe next time we’ll squeeze you in right in the middle. Would you like that?” 

You nearly cum from his words alone, your hands grasping at his shoulders. “Fuck, Kyle! I need you inside me right now.” 

“So impatient.” He tsks, leaning forward to bite at your lips. “Such a needy little omega.” 

“Please!” You almost sob, lifting your hips to press against his. “I need you.” 

He shushes you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before sitting back up onto his knees. He shifts slightly closer to you, propping your legs up over his thighs. His hand fists his cock, pumping the hard length a couple times before he drags the head through your folds. You whine impatiently, trying to lift your hips to grind against him but he presses a hand into your stomach, pinning you against the bed. 

“Patience.” He scolds you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

He drags his head through your folds a couple more times before he finally presses into you, stretching you open. You go lax on the bed, relaxing around him as he rocks his hips into you, sinking in deeper with every movement. 

You reach for him as he sinks completely into you, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can. His arms slip around your back as he begins grinding against you, his thrusts shallow and soft. It’s so very different from how John had taken you just a couple days ago. Kyle has always been softer, gentler, more passionate than rough and eager. 

You moan softly against his lips, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him locked against you. You want to get closer to him, but you’re not sure you can get closer than you already are. Bodies pressed together, his cock inside you, lips pressed to yours as he holds you. There’s a prickling under your skin, an urge to devour him, to keep him here forever. He snaps his hips into you harder, his lips trailing down to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes widening as a gasp leaves your lips. Your fingers dig into Kyle’s side, his head snapping to the side, sensing the disturbance in the room. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” John leans against the closed door, a cigar in his hand. 

You’re not sure how long he’s been there, how he got in without either of you noticing. Kyle especially, since he was usually so in tune with his surroundings. Pride flashes through you at the thought of him being so lost in you, he can’t focus on anything else. The scent of tobacco washes over you as John takes a long drag from his cigar. He must not have been there long, or maybe you’ve just been so caught up in Kyle’s scent you hadn’t noticed. 

Kyle is frozen above you as John pushes off the door, approaching the bed slowly. Kyle shifts above you so he can hold John’s gaze as he stops at the edge of the bed. Excitement swirls in your stomach as you stare up at him in anticipation of what he’s going to do. His hand lifts, dragging down Kyle’s back to his ass. 

John delivers a harsh slap to his cheek, Kyle’s hips snapping into yours in response as a moan leaves his lips. “Did I tell you to stop, soldier?” 

“No, sir.” Kyle grunts out, starting to rock his hips into yours again. 

You watch the change happen almost immediately, the natural shift between them. Kyle’s not in charge anymore, quickly handing over control to John despite the fact he’s the one inside of you. It’s a subtle submission, yet you can sense the changes in them both. 

John massages Kyle’s ass for a moment before shifting so he’s closer to you. You stare up at him, lips parted as you whimper quietly. “There’s my pretty girl.” He praises you as he leans down, brushing his thumb over your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You close your lips around his thumb, sucking on it. “Such a good girl, isn’t she?” 

“Yes, sir.” Kyle grunts, continuing to thrust into you harder than he had been before. 

John takes another drag from his cigar as you moan around his thumb, your hands gripping the sheets as Kyle continues to thrust into you, the head of his cock dragging across that spot inside you from the angle he’s at. Moans slip from Kyle’s lips as you clench around him, his own hands digging into the sheets. Sweat has beaded across his forehead, a droplet sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. Drool slips out of your mouth around John’s thumb. You want to lick the sweat from his chest. You want to taste him. 

John slips his thumb from your lips, dragging it across your chin, smearing saliva all over your skin. “Look at her.” He says, moving so he’s looking over Kyle’s shoulder. “Drooling already and you haven’t even made her cum yet, have you?” His hand slips around the back of Kyle’s neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. “You gonna make her cum like a good boy?” 

Kyle lets out a moan, his pace stuttering just slightly. “Yes, sir.” He grits out, picking up the pace as he slams into that spot inside you with every movement. 

John takes a step back, continuing to smoke as he watches the two of you. It’s almost too much between Kyle fucking you and John watching. There’s a coil tightening in your stomach, the pleasure intensifying more and more. A fire has started under your skin, your eyes glued to John’s as Kyle pushes you closer and closer to the peak. 

You hold John’s gaze as you cum, your back arching in pleasure. Kyle doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust into you as he chases his own high. 

John waits until your moans have died down before he moves, stubbing out his cigar on Kyle’s nightstand before he grasps Kyle by the hips, stopping his movements. “Switch places with our girl.” He murmurs into Kyle’s ear, Kyle taking a second to breathe before he wraps his arms around you, flipping you back around so you’re on top again as John kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands press into Kyle’s stomach to hold yourself steady, your legs still shaking from your orgasm. John climbs on the bed behind you, his clothed chest pressing against your bare, sweat slicked back. 

“Gonna be a good girl and make him cum?” John says quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, starting to rock your hips just slightly. John’s hands settle on your waist, helping you move as you begin to bounce on Kyle’s cock. Kyle’s eyes are wide as he watches you and his alpha, John pressing kisses across your shoulders and neck as he helps you fuck his beta. Kyle’s hands grip your thighs, fingers indenting the skin as he holds on for dear life. 

“That’s it.” John praises you, shifting your body forward just slightly so Kyle’s cock drags across that spot inside you with your every movement. You clench around him, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“Fuck...” Kyle moans, his own hips bucking up into yours. 

“Gonna make him cum?” John asks, his hands abandoning your hips. One snakes around your stomach to rub your clit while the other slips behind you to squeeze Kyle's balls. 

Kyle lets out a loud moan, his hips snapping up against yours as your walls clamp tightly around him. You can feel the warm ropes of his release spurting inside you, increasing the pressure as you cum a second time on his cock. 

John works you both through your orgasms, your entire body shaking by the time he releases you, pushing you forward against Kyle's chest. You lay there, your cheek pressed against his sweaty skin, ass in the air right in John's face. He watches as Kyle's seed begins to seep out of you, forced out by the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering Kyle's cum before pushing it back into you. You moan softly from the stretch of his fingers against your sensitive walls, pushing your hips back against his hand.

“Don't want to waste any of that.” John says, nipping at the globe of your ass cheek. “You know Kyle likes to clean you up himself.”

You let out a quiet moan, your pussy fluttering around John’s fingers. You’re about to be in for a very long night. 

Taglist:

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@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[luxeslore]

why do you hate me?

tf141 men reacting to their spoiled gf saying “why do you hate me?” when she isn’t getting enough attention.

warnings -> 18+, f!reader, dom + sub dynamics, brat taming, allusions of impact play [spanking], petnames.

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

“excuse me?”

john’s eyebrows raise almost comically high. if it wasn’t for the stern glare taking over his features, you’d be giggling by now. instead you stay standing in front of him, shuffling on your feet with the same big pout you murmured your dumb question through. you despise making him upset with you—

at the same time, though… you feel those little sparks in your tummy when he pushes himself back from his desk and pats his lap. beckoning you to come sit on those strong thighs so he can sweet talk some sense to you. your feet can’t move fast enough, shuffling in your soft socks against the carpet. the rough denim of his jeans rubs against your own uncovered thighs as you shuffle in his lap.

“don’t ya think you’re being a silly girl?” it’s a simple question, but one you’re not exactly prepared for nonetheless.

your eyes meet his and there’s no way you can possibly shy away from his gaze. so you nod dumbly, and john’s chest rumbles with an approving hum. a strong hand cradles the back of your head, coaxing you to relax against his chest so he can put an end to this bratty streak you have in you rearing it’s ugly head.

SIMON GHOST RILEY

“what the fuck are y’on about?”

“just forget it, simon.” you bite back, turning on your heel to march away from him.

you hear his heavy sigh and it’s only a matter of seconds before the pair of big hands he has squeezes your waist, pulling you back into him until he’s able to growl right over the shell of your ear. you turn your head, tilting it upwards and meeting his fury filled eyes. it takes everything in you not to grin wildly and piss him off more than you already have— especially when you can practically feel the soreness his fingers will leave behind in your sides already.

“dumb pet,” he grits out, “could never hate you, not even when you act like this…”

at those words, you press a gentle kiss to his masked lips. and you know for a fact he’s rolling his eyes, tired of your theatrical tendencies and outbursts, but that doesn’t stop him from nudging your nose with his own. from pulling you closer and snorting out a breathy laugh.

“you’re still gonna fuckin’ get it later, y’know that right?”

JOHNNY SOAP MACTAVISH

“how dare ye?”

you know— you just know— that you’ve really fucked up this time. why would you say such a thing? why would you be such a nasty girl to the man who does everything for you? sure, he didn’t have his eyes on you for a bit— bless him, he just wanted to decompress after some training. and here you come, stomping over to him like a proper fusspot.

in a second, you’re tugged into his lap by your wrist. you clumsily fall on top of him but johnny is quick to readjust you, to make sure you’re getting a good look at his disappointed face.

“do ye even know what you’re saying?” he speaks lowly, doesn’t care how much your bottom lip wobbles under his harsh tone, “because i really don’t think ye do.”

“johnny, i’m sorry— i really—” you attempt blubbering out. however he presses his thick index finger against your pout, shushing you in an instant.

“fucked up again, bonnie.” he tsks.

maybe he’s right. you don’t know what you’re saying. you know better; you know what he likes to be called when you two find yourselves in situations just like this one, when you need to be put in your place. that’s why you don’t resist when he guides you to lay over his lap tummy down…

KYLE GAZ GARRICK

“princess, come on…”

kyle begins, treading carefully around your huffing form. strong arms loop around you from behind, humming softly when you melt right into him despite your bratty demeanor. you can feel him smile against the side of your warm face, while his scent and warmth invades your senses, calming you down immediately.

“you know that’s the farthest from the truth,” he whispers, kissing your cheek with an obnoxious smooching sound tacked on to each one. it prompts you to giggle and kyle laughs right along with you when he sees how much your nose scrunches up with happiness.

“there’s my sweet girl!”

he squeezes his arms around you, ignoring you when you shamefully apologize for being so ridiculous… because he knows deep down in his heart he’d let you get away with murder. so he shushes you with more kisses and murmurs about just how much he loves you, and plans on doing the same thing between your pretty thighs later on.

[hereisrachel]

Sitting on their lap, 141 x reader headcanons ! (Realistic)

- They get hard.

---

I hope you enjoyed this!!

[oceantornadoo]

welcome home (johnny mactavish x f!reader x the lucky third simon riley)

slightly dub con (only kissing tho)

—

“hi bonnie.”

johnny crushed you in a bear hug, wrapped up in the feeling of your body against his. he’d been gone for three long, torturous weeks, full of spotty phone calls and one or two dirty texts.

his hands groped you up and down, cheek nuzzling your neck with new stubble. you closed your eyes at the feeling of your man finally home in your arms. when you opened them, you were staring into the bottomless pits that were simon riley’s eyes, all hulking silence behind johnny.

“simon i-“ johnny shut you up with a sloppy kiss, grabbing your jaw with his right hand as he groped your ass with his left. you closed your eyes and moaned on instinct, forgetting about your ghostly audience right in front of you. you could feel johnny’s erection poking through his cargo pants, three weeks of frustration at the loss of your wet cunt clenching around his cock. “missed ya, lassie.” he murmured in your ear, hand traveling from your jaw to your tits, squeezing hard at your pointed nipples. “don’t be rude, johnny, your friend is watching.” he gave you a low chuckle as your hands ran through his mohawk. “‘es enjoyin’ the show. tha’ righ’ l.t.?”

johnny turned and smirked knowingly at his lieutenant. “go’on.” he nudged you. “‘e gets a welcome home too.” you’d been friends with simon for years ever since you and johnny had started dating, but for some reason the energy felt different today. you approached simon with doe eyes, suddenly nervous around a man who’d seen you throw up after too many shots. “hi, si.” you reached up on your tippy toes, giving him your customary cheek kiss. he grabbed your jaw with the same ferocity as johnny, turning you to look at his eyes. “no kiss?” you nervously turned back to johnny, who looked up from unlacing his boots. “‘es practically me, lass, jus’ more lonely. go’on now.”

you lifted simon’s mask with shaking hands. you’d seen his face hundreds of times, but it always made your breath catch when you saw his rugged scars. he heard it too, lips stretching over bone into a smirk. he brought you in for a kiss, a real one, opening your lips by sheer force. you moaned as his lips slotted with yours, the unfamiliar texture turning you on. his hands traveled to your ass and hiked you up against him, your legs scrambling for purchase around his thick torso. he was bigger than johnny, more tree trunk than man. he reached with one hand in between you two to adjust you against him, his paw cupping your pussy and ass as he pulled you against him. it was completely inappropriate, so many lines being crossed as his hand stayed there, thumb pressing against your clothed clit, applying pressure. your core clenched around nothing, the unfamiliar feeling of wanting a man who wasn’t johnny rolling around in your head. then, quick as lightning, he put you down, separating your lips with ease. “thanks, dove.” he grunted as he passed around you, giving your ass a small smack as he toed off his boots and made his way to your kitchen.

you turned around bewildered, hand covering your lips as if you couldn’t believe what had just happened. johnny was watching from the hallway, that smug look ever present on his face. you caught his eye and the bastard winked, not helping the confusion and guilt roiling around in your gut. you were in for a very long welcome home party.

[ohbo-ohno]

3.5k of cbf-turned-bully!soap x reader, inspired by this (very old) ask to my fave ever <3 (read on ao3)

tags: dubcon, dirty talk, masturbation, references to bullying, breaking and entering, rough sex, overstimulation

You’re still nearly shaking with frustration as you settle beneath your sheets, fingers twitching against your stomach and your jaw clenched tight.

You are not going to touch yourself. You’re not. There is no way in hell that you’re coming home from seeing Johnny fucking MacTavish for the first time in years and masturbating. It’s not happening.

…Well, you are awfully keyed up.

“Fucking bastard,” you hiss to yourself, frustration only growing as you shimmy down your loose shorts. You tell yourself firmly that this has absolutely nothing to do with the reappearence of your greatest nemesis, and try not to grind your teeth. You hadn’t even spoken to the man - just a glance of him had you hissing and ducking behind a different aisle at the supermarket - and you’re already riled by him. It’d be embarrassing if you weren’t nearly too horny to think.

You take a deep breath and rest your fingers over your slit, closing your eyes and letting your mind wander. You touch yourself slowly, fingers carefully spreading your lips as you let your mind wander. With your free hand you tug open your bedside drawer, tugging out your favorite toy and dragging it down your stomach.

Your movements are measured and familiar as your usual fantasies play across the backs of your eyes. You give yourself several long moments to slicken, coaxing more and more from your body with nimble fingers and quick circles.

In your mind, there’s a large body over yours and something just thick enough to let you feel the sting of a stretch inside of you, your breasts pushing against his chest, soft grunts in your ears.

Your breathing hitches, hips working against your palm as the fantasy starts to become more clear. He’s big, both above you and inside of you - only halfway in and already tugging you near the edge. His hands are on either side of your head, caging you in so all you can see is his tan skin, his rippling muscles.

You bite your lip to hold back a moan, eyelids fluttering. His bright eyes roll back when he pulls away enough for you to see his face. You lift one hand to your breast, the other gripping his head and both of you moan when you tug. The drag of his cock inside of you is perfect, his weight over you, the heat absolutely pouring over him…

His head drops back down when you let go of his hair, and his lips curve up into a smile as he looks down at you.

You nearly screech when you recognize him, throwing both hands away from your body and your eyes flying open to stare at your dark cieling. Your cunt and nipple throb, feeling quite suddenly neglected, but your heart isracing for an entirely different reason.

No. No. It’s one thing to satisfy your own needs after seeing the man, it’s another to… God, you can hardly even think it - to fantasize about the man and fuck yourself to him. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, desire rapidly cooling. Without Johnny himself in front of you - all six feet of him, muscular and masculine as he’s grown up to be - it’s easier to remember just how terrible he was to you all those years in school. There’s no sharp jawline and cute scruff to distract you from the memory of how he’d steal your clothes before you could change in gym class, leaving you with only those embarrassingly tiny athletic shorts for the rest of the day.

You huff as you let your legs fall closed again, the mood well and truly dissipating now. All you’ve got left is regular frustration, instead of the fun kind.

A sharp tap at the window jerks you out of your pouting, and you yank your blankets up to cover what little skin is showing in a panic, the slick dildo resting on your thighs. The room is silent for a moment, absolutely still except for the fan in the corner that’s been blowing for years, until there’s another tap.

You don’t realize what it is until the tap turns into a thunk. Then, you can hardly bite back your yelp. You’re nearly paralyzed with fear as the sound turns into a sort of… jangling almost, clearly coming from the one window in your bedroom.

Back pressed against your headboard, you can do nothing but think of all the things you should be doing as the curtains start blowing more noticeably, wind pouring into the room.

You’re just sucking in a breath to scream when Johnny MacTavish pops out from behind the curtain, combat boots loud against the wood flooring.

“Same old broken lock, huh, bonnie?” He smirks, strolling into your room like he belongs, like he used to. “Be honest now, you were just waiting here for me, weren’t you?”

You���re gaping like a fish, you know it, but you can’t help but stare at him wide-eyed.

The last time John MacTavish was in your bedroom, he was at least a foot shorter and a hell of a lot more welcome. The two of you had been eleven when he’d still been willing to be near you, but as soon as you’d moved on to elementary school - as soon as boys became boys and girls became girls, and kids had crushes instead of cooties - he’d stopped coming around. It was only a few years after that, in high school, that he’d gone from a friend you used to have to the boy who made school miserable.

And there is not one single reason you can think of to justify him sneaking in, the way he used to. Not now, all these years later with so much - said and unsaid - lingering between you.

None of that seems to weigh on him, though. He’s cocky as ever, doesn’t even bother to take off his boots as he saunters towards your bed, giving you a long look that can only be described as salacious as he leans himself against the foot of your bed.

It’s pure instinct to grope blindy at your bedside table, grabbing the first thing your fingertips touch and launching it at his head.

His instincts are sharp enough the he catches the bottle of water before it can do any real damage, but the small distraction gives you enough time to stumble to your feet, blanket held protectively in front of your body - you’re not completely nude, but a tanktop and panties aren’t exactly what you want Johnny seeing you in.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You hiss, some old instinct making you want to stay quiet even though there’s no one in the house with you.

The look he gives you is almost begrudgingly scolding, his lips tilted up in the corners as he tuts like he’s just barely holding back a smile. “Now, what was that for? I know your happy to see me, no need to start throwin’ things.”

“Johnny,” you scold, heartbeat slowing as the initial fear fades. “What the hell are you doing in my room? We haven’t spoken in years, you can’t just show back up-”

“Aw, I knew you missed me,” he grins, easily interrupting you and stepping almost within arms reach, water bottle discarded on your dresser. “Figured you didnae want to hear from me, I’d have written if I knew you’d be so crabbit.”

You splutter a bit, spine straightening in offense. “You’re breaking into my house! I have more than a right to be- what’d you say? Crabbit?”

His smile only grows and he steps closer, making you instinctually take a step back. “I don’t mind, lass. ‘S always fun to coax a pretty thing out of an ugly mood.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you splutter, your heart only beating faster as Johnny prowls forward, eyes dragging down your body like he wants to eat you alive. 

“I like your PJs, bonnie,” he rumbles, reaching out a hand to drag his finger down one of the straps of your tank top. “Did you match your panties just for me?”

Yous hiss and smack his hand away, one hand crossing tight over your chest to try and regain some amount of modesty. “How could I have dressed for you when you’re breaking in? This is ridiculous, you need to go, Johnny-”

You hardly even notice as he slowly pushes you backward, his chest pressed against yours until there’s no more room to pull away from him, the wall at your back a cold shock.

“Go?” He tilts his head, eyes big and round and you know the bastard isn’t as innocent or well-meaning as he’s trying to look. “But I just got here, bonnie. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

You rear back at the crass language, face flushing with heat. “What- we’re not going to-” You stumble over your words, pressing further back against the wall when his hands - rough, calloused, so much bigger than they used to be - grab both of your elbows to keep you still. “We’re not having sex,” you finally manage to choke out.

His grin is shark-like, sharp and verging on mean as he ducks his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to match your volume. “Why not? You look hungry, lass, don’t you want a little help? My fingers are bigger than yours, bet I can reach further up in your pretty cunt than you can.”

You gape for a moment, mouth moving as you think about saying any number of things, each of them dying before they cross your lips. This Johnny is so far from the lanky teenager who shoved you as you passed him in the hallway, and even further from the little boy who refused to be your first kiss because of your cooties. You have no idea how to deal with this invasive adult Johnny.

Your hands are small against his broad chest, and you press against him with just a hint of pressure, hoping he’ll take your hint and lean away. He doesn’t, only pushes himself closer and gives you some of his weight to hold up. 

“Johnny, come on,” you try, pushing a little harder and only getting yourself more firmly pinned against the wall. “We can- let’s get lunch tomorrow, okay? We can talk then.”

Johnny doesn’t respond at first, only ducks down and presses his face into your throat. You stiffen at the feeling of his damp breath against your skin, the slight brush of his teeth chasing goosebumps down your spine. Your breath hitches when you feel a distinct shape against your stomach, his hardness pressing into you.

“I can’t leave now, bonnie,” he says against your throat, groaning and grinding himself against you just once. “Ye’ve got me all worked up, I’ll die if you make me go.”

“Johnny…” you whine, wrapping your hands around his biceps and squeezing.

“I’ll make it good for you, don’ worry,” he reassures, hands shifting from the wall to wrap around your waist. “Might be a tad selfish once we get goin’, but you’ll have your fun.”

You can’t do much but squirm as one of his hands slips down beneath your bottoms, large hand cupping you. Your squeak is entirely unintentional when his fingers begin to explore without any reservations, your face hot with embarrassment at how quickly your body reacts.

Johnny doesn’t lift his head far, only enough to mouth at your jaw and leave little sucking bites. His free hand, the one not stroking your clit and drawing out wetness from your core, drifts up enough to palm one of your breasts.

“Johnny,” you breathe, incapable of saying anything but his name.

You can feel his smile against your skin, and you arch further into him when he slides one thick finger inside of you. His fingers are bigger than yours, enough for you to worry about the size of other parts of him.

“You’re so tight for me, lovie. Gonna squeeze me just right, huh?” His fingers crooks inside of you at just the right angle, and your hips jerk forward on instinct as you cry out. “Pretty thing, can’t believe I never had this back in school.”

“What-” You start, cutting yourself off with a gasp that melts into a moan as he pushes another finger inside of you. You’re more than wet enough to take it, but everything seems to be moving at hyperspeed, and you can’t keep up. “Oh, that’s- what’re you talking about?”

He huffs against your jaw, nosing up a little further to press against your cheek as his hot breath washes over you. “You’re so pretty lass, had me hard as iron every day when we were kids. Wasn’t very nice, huh bonnie? Walkin’ around in those cute skirts and - fuck, your pretty blush… drove me fucking insane.”

You yelp at the sudden stretch of three fingers, pushing up onto your toes to try and jerk away, but Johnny just follows you, thumb stroking cruelly over your clit.

“Just wanted to bend you over,” he groans, pressing his hips into your stomach and gripping your breast tight enough that you worry you’ll bruise. “Wanted to put you on your knees, on your back, fuck, woulda done anything for just a peek at this pretty cunt.”

“Jo-hnny,” you hiccup, melting against him as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you, everything else fading as you creep closer to an orgasm you’re not even sure you want. “I don’t-”

“Hush,” he hisses, smacking your tit lightly and ignoring your cry of shock. “Lemme get you off here, then I’ll fuck you, yeah? Gonna split you open on my cock, show you what you coulda had years ago, gonna fuck you dumb.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans and cries as they slowly grow in volume. Your hips buck against his hands as you chase an orgasm, unable to do anything more than pant into Johnny’s mouth as he licks into yours, tongue exploring every bit he can reach.

Your orgasm absolutely melts you, leaves you weak and limp pinned between the wall and the man you’d once known so well. Johnny’s breathing almost as hard as you, every part of him pressed fully against you. He’s all heat and solid man, forcing you to ride out every euphoric wave of your orgasm.

You’re a little glassy eyed by the end of it, knees weak and mind even weaker. You’re vaguely aware of your hands lightly pushing at him as he lifts you by the thighs, dropping you carelessly onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Johnny hisses, tearing your clothes from your body like they’re nothing. You whine when he presses kisses to your stomach, those kisses quickly turning to sucking bites that have you arching and running a hand through his mohawk. 

He doesn’t bother to take off his shirt - too busy licking his way up to your tits for that - but the sound of his belt dropping to the floor and his jeans following is loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

When he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking like he’s trying to physically pull more moans from you, you arch off the bed with a near squeal. He’s hunched over you as he settles firmly above your prone form on the bed, knees between your thighs and keeping them spread.

“Slow- slow down,” you gasp, tapping at his shoulder a bit frantically as you feel the thick - so thick - length of him press against your drooling center. “Johnny-!” 

Your cry melts into a long, drawn-out moan as Johnny forces himself inside of you with one mean thrust. Three fingers somehow wasn’t enough prep for you to take him comfortably, his cock leaving you teary eyed and writhing on the bed as he bottoms out in just seconds. You feel like you’ve been impaled, the breath forced from your chest as you dig your nails into his shoulder and try despertley to breathe through the stretch.

“There,” Johnny pants above you, lips pink and swollen from his kisses. “There ye go, bonnie, good fuckin’ girl for me. Coulda - shit, shit - coulda had this years ago, huh?” His head drops low, eyes boring into yours as he pulls back and thrusts back into you sharply, forcing another cry from your lips. “See how good it feels? I can make you feel so good, pretty girl, promise.”

“Johnny, c’mon,” you gasp, scratching down his shoulder blades and pulling him close. Any reservations you had have been fucked out of you in just a few thrusts, and even despite your recent orgasm your clit throbs with need. “C’mon, you can- you can move.”

His smile is sharp above you, his own pupils blown wide and his shirt sticking to his sweat-slick skin. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you harder?”

You whine high in your throat, throwing your head back and hitching your hips higher as he finds a pace that works, his hips slamming against the backs of your thighs when you wrap them around his waist. You’re half off the bed with the position he’s got you in, his arms scooping you up around your back so he can lavish more attention across your tits.

Every breath you take leaves you in a moan or a cry, the pleasure he’s punshing into you almost overwhelming. You feel fevered, desperate in a way you never have before as you claw desperately at Johnny’s scalp, tugging his hair until he moans.

“So tight for me,” he slurs against your chest, drooling as he switches from one nipple to the other. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ mad, bonnie, could stay in this cunt forever, shit.”

“Johnny,” you gasp, eyes screwed up tight as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to a second peak. “You’re so… fuck, so big, I can’t… can’t breathe.”

“Yeah?” He asks, looking up at you and pushing himself up enough to press kisses to your lips. “‘M fuckin’ the air right out of you, huh? Fuckin’ you so good you can’t breathe?”

“Yeah,” you keen, your body beginning to tense as you begin to taste your orgasm. “Feel so good, Johnny, please, I’m so- I’m so close, c’mon…”

“Yes, yes,” he chants against you, his lips brushing over every bit of your face he can reach, tongue darting out to lick up the few stray tears slipping from your eyes. “Squeeze me tight, c’mon, come for me, lass, you can do it.”

He doesn’t give up his tight hold on you to rub your clit, but you find that you don’t need him to, the combination of his thrusts and everything about the situation bringing you to a powerful enough orgasm that your vision whites out for a moment. Your throat is sore as you shout, and the fabric of Johnny’s shirt is loose around where your fingers have dug in mercilessly.

“Fuck, tight as a vice, fuck, fuck,” Johnny moans, his own face screwed up in pleasure as he loses any rhythm he had before, fucking you like a fleshlight. He leans back and pulls you up with him, holding you chest to chest with him and burying his face into your neck as you hold onto him for dear life. 

He buries his teeth right above your pulse as he comes, working his hips in small, jerky thrusts to milk himself as you tighten up around him. Your breath is synced with his, both of you panting desperately and soaked in sweat.

You’re still reeling as he begins to recover. Before you can even muster enough strength to let your thighs fall away from his hips, he’s falling forward onto the bed and laying both of you out on your sides, his hold on you not loosening at all. He takes half a second to throw his shirt across the room, then presses you so close that your tits are all but flat against his chest.

He’s uncharacteristically silent as the two of you share breaths, each of you slowly floating back into your bodies. The only emotion you can really muster is shock - how is it that Johnny, your best friend turned biggest bully, just fucked you better than any man you’ve been with before? It feels, in some absurd way, unfair.

“We’ll have to talk about this,” you say quietly, once your heartbeat has almost evened out and your breaths are coming evenly. 

Johnny only hums, one big hand moving down to hitch your thigh back around his waist, tilting your body so somehow even more of your skin is pressed against his. “Sure, bonnie,” he murmurs, voice half muffled from where his face is pressed into your hair. “Tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, Johnny,” you try, one hand resting on his ribs. “You broke into my house.”

“Hmm,” he hums, taking a deep breath of your scent and letting it out contentedly. “I’ll say sorry in the mornin’. Sleep now, though.” His voice is almost pleading, his grip on you tightening for just a moment, one hand behind your back and the other resting on your ass. You feel like a stuffed animal, but you’re too pleasure-sated to really mind.

“Alright,” you agree, settling into his hold fully and letting your mouth rest against his collarbone as your eyes flutter shut. “Tomorrow.”

[chamomiletealeaf]

Thinking about Johnny making you cum on only his cock. You’ve never been able to cum from just penetration alone and always needed something stimulating your clit. But Johnny was determined to change that.

“C’mon sweetheart you can do it.” He says into your ear fucking into you, pinning your legs open underneath him.

“Can’t Johnny.” You whine. “Need more.” You say, frustrated and desperate for a release.

You two have been going at it for at least half an hour, Johnny slowing at times to prevent himself from cumming and he tries different positions to hit that perfect spot.

Then, Johnny tries one more position.

He folds you into a pretzel position, straddling one of your legs and pulling the other over his thigh so you’re twisted as he grips your hips, and you feel something you’ve never felt before from just Johnny’s cock pounding into you.

He hits a new spot that’s never been touched like this at this angle and it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

You gasp loudly, making Johnny smirk to himself.

“Oh my god fuck Johnny yeah that’s it.” You say breathlessly and shocked at the new sensation.

Sure feeling Johnny fuck you always felt so good, but it was never enough without a vibrator or his fingers touching your clit. But this time was different.

“That the spot bonnie? Yeah? Like getting fucked like this?” He says with a cocky tone, mischievous smirk plastered on his face.

Found it he thinks to himself.

“Fuck Johnny don’t stop. Oh my god that’s it.”

“You gonna cum for me girlie? That cute little pussy feel real good nice and snug around my cock?

You whimper in response and reach a hand down to your clit absentmindedly, almost like muscle memory, and Johnny slaps your hand away like you offended him.

He grips your jaw and leans in to growl in your ear, his thrusts getting faster and harder pounding your pussy so perfectly against that new favorite spot.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch. You’re gonna cum just like this you understand?”

You nod with a whimper, but Johnny wasn’t having it.

“Say it.” He demands, hand still firmly grasping your jaw.

“I’m gonna cum like this. Fuck Johnny I- I’m gonna cum-“

Your voice pitches higher with each word as you feel your pussy pulse hard around Johnny’s cock as he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

Your eyes roll back as you let out a choked sob from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body.

“Fuck bonnie just like that. Let it all out. Yeah that’s it. Fuck you’re squeezin’ me so good.”

The rhythmic throbs of your pussy bring Johnny to the edge and he cums inside you with a whine, then his thrusts slow to a stop fucking you both through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Fuck Johnny that- I didn’t think I could do that.” You say panting, gasping for air like you hadn’t had oxygen for days.

Johnny leans in and cups your cheeks with both hands, still in the same position.

“Told ya’ you could do it sweetheart. Proud of ye. Knew I’d get you there.”

He says the last part with a sly smirk and you giggle, playfully hitting his chest at his arrogance.

Johnny then cleans you two up and gives you one of his hoodies to sleep in as you cuddle up next to each other, not knowing that that sleep would be the best you two have had in weeks.

[moongreenlight]

Soap (who you’ve never met before ever in your life) being your server during an anniversary dinner with your long-time boyfriend except he took one look at you by the host stand and decided he had to have you. 

Calls you “sweet thing” while he unwraps a straw and puts it in your water glass for you. 

Asks if you’re out with your brother (without making eye contact with your boyfriend) and even after you told him no, he still ‘makes the mistake’ a few other times during the meal. 

Stops over way more than is necessary. Probably has the kitchen intentionally screw up your appetizer so that when you bring it up he can make you feed him off of your fork. For quality control, of course. “Cannae have a sweet thing like you wasting the talents of a pretty mouth like that on something below par.”

Your boyfriend is pissed. Sends back his food twice and makes such a scene that the manager comes over. When he throws accusations of an “overly fucking friendly waiter,” you try to smooth the situation over by saying that everything was fine. Your boyfriend gets so riled that he throws a fistful of cash on the table and tells you it should cover his meal and your ride home. 

Soap swoops in while you’re sobbing at the table. Slides in your side of the booth carrying a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and a cherry. Squashes you up against the wall while he coos kind things in your ear. Like he’s reading off a script meticulously chosen to include all of the right things that make you let down your guard enough to agree to let him drive you home. 

“Wouldnae hear of you driving yourself home in this state, kitty.”

And once he finally gets you back to his, he goes in for the kill. Keeps saying the right things, keeps wrapping his arm around you and pulling you right into his side, keeps pushing his face close to yours. So much so that it almost feels like it’s your idea when you- still hiccuping and sniffling softly- lean forward and close the centimeters wide gap between you.

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!johnny def the, if you still single by 32 we'll get married but then literally interferes with every date you think about having, tells them to block your number or end up on the back of a milk carton, and spends most of his time back home with you.

when away, he calls every morning and night, if able. video chats too. your parents couldn't care less because he's got a golden cross dangling around his neck and says grace before every meal.

good lad, he'd be a welcome addition to the family.

the worst because then he'd turn his big ol puppy eyes to you like, the captain's havin' a bairn and how it'd be nice to have my own little family to come home to, that he isn't getting any younger and you know he means nothing by it but it stings because are you not good enough?

you don't really want any kids, they're not a part of your future but the thought of your best friend, the one you've known since you were a kindergartener getting a wife or husband, and leaving you behind has envy, slow and cruel, crawling up your spine and settling in the back of your skull.

there's never been anything truly inappropriate between the both of you (you don't know that the way he holds you in his lap when in public or wrapping a thick arm around your soft waist is anything but friendly) so you find yourself at a loss for words.

until he keeps sending ultrasounds of the fetus, one after the other and how tender his voice sounds as he gushes over it.

i'd give you a baby, if you want. nothing better than creating a family with my best friend right? only for him to quickly tell you that children out of wedlock is completely out of question.

well, the cute one with the pretty lips and UK cap already calls you johnny's missus so what's the harm in that?

when johnny passes the phone over to the guys, you ask price how his wife is.

what wife?

(i need johnny to give him a swift jab to the ribs, where price is like HURGK i mean she's great. doing wonderful.)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 

Fuck. 

You’re spooning Ghost. 

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 

“Don’t.” He says quietly. 

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 

Unaware of the danger. 

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 

The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 

There’s no way they don’t know about it. 

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 

“You alright, love?” 

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 

That won’t stop some alphas. 

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 

Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 

“My dad was a real asshole.” 

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 

“Simon.” 

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 

“My name. It’s Simon.” 

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[thebeesatemyknees]

141 as ex-husbands

Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.

Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"

Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.

Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 

You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.

And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.

But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 

Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 

But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.

He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.

He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.

Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 

He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 

He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.

If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.

Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 

He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 

He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.

He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.