#he just wants to be Good for kyle. and how can he possibly do that when he can't even be Enough.

[jrueships]

Demar spending time with every nba player EXCEPT kyle lowry 😠 what's going on?

:( not good

im not gonna theorize or try n make his depression have a specific reason for writing purpose cus like! Iunno! One that ain't rlly how it works n it's pretty dismissive to make it that, n two iunno! There's just some things a writer has that they just won't write! Idk! So im not gonna be like 'ooo no wonder he's depressed he hasn't seen lowry lol' cus like! Iunno LMAO it just doesn't really sit all that right??? Point is, he's been feeling depressed. Just not one of them good days.

Now jimmy though. We can talk about. Speedran dreads with a cheat code jimmy. Had them made fun of by lowry. Got something new, something funny... something to Talk about with lowry... something to have an excuse to hang out with him more.... hm.

Using a 'jimmy trying to steal lowry away from demar because he's a number one relationship hater' lens, imagine jimmy and lowry out on some late night fancy dinner date. Where the waiter takes a blowtorch to your fancy rich person tiny cream bowl thing right in front of you! It's a NICE place, and a place JIMMY found NOT demar! Even though jimmy Loves overhearing deebo excitedly telling lowry over the phone about this new place he's heard about and would LOVE to go to once they got a game around there, then taking lowry there himself before demar can have the chance. Just so kyle can tell demar how he's already been there by the time deebo finally rolls around. Really hone in who's got home advantage here.

Anyways, jimmy and kyle are having a good dinner date. Overlooking the blinking night sky lit up by colorful Miami signs, gazing out at the dark waves misting against rocky shore. Kyle's trying to pretend Jimmy's hair is spaghetti and twist it up on his fork and eat it, Jimmy's trying to grab his wrist. They're laughing, talking, chilling. Then Kyle's phone dings. Jimmy's staring, hoping at least one blink will change the name displayed because he knows if it was anyone else but That Name, kyle would let it ring. But it wasn't. It was Demar.

Kyle picks up the phone because of course he picks up the phone. He greets with a short 'what's up-' before cutting it off with a stare at the screen. Jimmy whispers shit behind the seal of white gritted teeth. Kyle excuses himself into the restroom, taking the phone with him.

Jimmy takes the check.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

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MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.” 

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 

Their omega. 

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 

Maybe they did need you after all. 

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 

You went into heat. 

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 

They’re both in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[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.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

This was going to be a little something, but I got carried away, anyway, enjoy.

Thinking about reader entering the elevator to find the whole 141 fully dressed and armed inside. 💗

Warning: There is a little smut ahead ❤️ Gaz x Reader

“There really is no need!” You exclaim, finally coming out of the paralyzed state you were in. Just as the door was about to close you managed to slip out, forcing the door to open again by detecting the movement. “I'll just go out the way I came in, no need to worry.” 

You try to make your way to the car, walking backwards so that you don't have to break eye contact with them since they are looking at you like you are an absolute lunatic. Maybe you are. 

The only thing you can see of them is their eyes as they look at you, and then the three of them that are on the right turn to the one on the left. The one that spoke to you and to the radio. 

He puts his hand on the door again, and slowly turns his head to the one closer to him. Then he nods in your direction and says only loud enough for them to hear: “Grab her.”

Not needing to hear anything, and trusting your guts, the second the man puts a foot down to begin walking your way, you bolt, running as fast as you can to your car. 

Thanking whoever is listening that still has your keys in your hands, you unlock your car and as soon as you reach it, you open the driver's door and enter, closing it behind you. 

Or trying to. 

Before you can yourself in your car, a hand holds the door and pushes it back open. He tries to grab your arm so you move to the copilot seat, trying to move away knowing that there is no way out but still trying. 

You push your back against the door, desperate to create space as the man starts to enter your car and you try to kick him away. “Please let me leave! I don't know what's going on, I can't say anything if I don't know what's going on! Please!”

He doesn't respond with his voice but in his eyes, you see something similar to pity that makes you wonder what you must look like, glassy eyes with tears pricking at your eyes from fear, trying to move as away as possible from him in your minuscule car and trying to kick him away but with barely any strength too scared to actually hurt him and make it more difficult for you. 

The door behind your back suddenly opens and before you can do anything, a pair of strong arms grab you by your torso keeping your arms close to your chest and unable to move them. “Gotcha!” Says the voice behind you with a strong accent and almost fun in his voice, like he just won a tag game. 

You trash around trying to get free, unable to even reach the ground, tears beginning to flow down your cheek. “Please, please, I promise I won't say anything, ple-” A massive hand covers your mouth, silencing your pleas and forcing you to look at the third man that followed you to your card. Brown eyes look at you with furrowed eyes and say slowly, almost testing how stupid you are. “Are you going to make this easy for everyone, or do you just want to make it harder, angel?”

You nod your head, afraid to even try and speak. “Yes? Yes, what? Are you going to behave? Good girl.” He says as you keep nodding and you see his eyes twirl the slightest with a smile. “C’mon, Johnny, bring her to the elevator.” 

The four of you make your way inside of the elevator when the first man who spoke to you remains holding the door shaking his head at you as you are dragged inside. “Now why would you try something like that, you silly girl?” He says taking something from his back pocket.

“Maybe she likes to be chased.” Says the man that you tried to kick before and you quickly shake your head still unable to talk earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, we can't have any more of that. Put her behind Kyle, Soap.” Says the first man, and you can finally see that what he picked from his pocket is a pair of cuffs and you begin to trash again. Futile, you know it, since the man behind you (Soap, you guess), holds your hands putting them around the man’s waist (Kyle was his name?) and you quickly feel the cuff go around your wrist keeping your plush against Kyle's back, the indents and trinkets of his backpack pressing against your face. “Now, no more tears, kid. You brought this upon yourself, so no more games.” He says looking at you poking his head from the other side of the man, but you can help it back to let the tears flow free. “Aw, c’mon, lass. Don't cry, yer be free in a bit. Look, Captain has the keys, we'll let you go soon, see? Right her- Shit!” 

The Scottish man behind you was saying, as he pointed and moved around you, and when he was about to point to the keys in his captain's hand, his eyes were not on the keys but instead on your face. So he didn't measure the distance and instead knocked the keys out of his captain's hand. 

So now, the five of you look as the key falls, not to the floor, but straight to the small space under the elevator door just as it closes. Getting out of reach, and possibly never to be seen again. 

“Johnny, you fucking twat!”

Maybe if you did some overtime today, if you came across one more red light on your way back, if you stayed in your car a couple of minutes more you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation.

But you didn't.

So here you are now, hiding your face on the back of some military man, crying out of absolute fear for your wellbeing, handcuffed so you can't run and hearing the four men on the elevator argue with each other. 

Until an especially hard sob escapes your mouth making you bite your lips to silence yourself and everyone else to shut up. 

A warm hand engulges yours, assuming that it is Kyle's trying to calm you down by drawing little circles on your hand. “It's okay, luv. We have more keys, just not here. You just gotta stick with us for a little longer, and then you'll be back to your life, a’right?”

You hiccup as you try to stop crying, still biting your lips and out of reflex, you move your hand to grab one of his fingers, trying to ground you and get calmer. 

You notice a hand going down your back making you jump and grab Kyle's finger harder before you hear someone shushing you. “When we get out there, I'm gonna need you to be quiet, alright? And move along with Sargent Garrick, careful with your feet… Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty face.” 

You slowly move your head to face him, you recognize the voice as the Captain's voice but you finally see his face as he has moved his mask and now you can see the lower part of his face, mainly covered still by his beard and moustache, but with a kind smile on his face. A soft sigh escapes his lips when he sees you and it makes you think about what you must look like. 

Raw, plush and red lips from biting them, glossy eyes and wet cheeks flushed against the sergeant’s back; an absolute mess.

“Poor birdie, what have you gotten yourself into?” He says as he cups your head. “You are going to be good, right? We are going to take care of you, so no need to be so afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as you are with us. It is all going to be over soon, luv.”

He caresses your head once more, and when the elevator reaches your floor, he puts the mask back up. The four of them get the weapons in their hands and begin to beeline out of the elevator.

Kyle gives you one last squeeze to your hands before letting them go to grab his gun and walk out last of the elevator with you behind. 

“Bravo-6 to Watcher-1, we are on the 6th floor, moving to the objective apartment.” The captain says walking first. 

“Watcher-1 to all, the apartment is the 608. Proceed with caution, we don't know how many are inside.”

“Roger that, are there any secondary entries, Watcher?”

“Any available on time, Bravo-6. Just the main door.”

“You can jump from my terrace.” You whisper to Kyle who whips his head so fast when he hears you talk you are surprised he didn't get dizzy. “I live next door.”

“Quiet, birdie!” Kyle screams-whispers back, gaining the attention of the captain. 

“What did she say?” Ask the captain back.

“She said she lives next door to the objective, that we can jump from the terrace. Worth a look?” Kyle asks back.

“Where do you have the keys?” A deep voice coming from the only man you don't know the name jet asks next to you, and you push your butt out.

“Back pocket.” You say looking at him.

“Lucky Lt.” Soap mumbles somewhere close.

The unknown man gets his hand down your pocket and grabs your keys without unnecessarily lingering. 

You tell them your apartment number and when they open you explain to them that it is in your bedroom, and they just need to jump over the half wall on the side. 

“Ghost and Soap go through the outside, Gaz you coming with me. Ghost, check how many people are inside and we will enter at the same time.” Captain orders and you decide that you have already heard enough.

You know bullets are about to fly everywhere and blood is about to run and you don't want neither to see nor to hear any of that. 

So you hide your face on Kyle's back and grab his belt to steady yourself. You hear the Captain's voice shout something and after that, it is all chaos. You focus all of your senses on moving in tandem with Kyle, making sure not to get your feet on his way. 

At some point, you feel a sharp pain a bit higher than your elbow, but you ignore it, way too terrified to check it.

It is all a blur of noise and movement, but finally, there is no more shooting and you can only hear an angry man shout. 

You finally pop your head around Kyle to check who is screaming and you come across your neighbour, shouting at the captain until he sees you.

“You! I knew you were a fucking spy, you fucking whore! You don't know who you just fuck with! You are dead, bitch! You heard me? DEAD!”

“Darling, he is not getting close to you.” Kyle tries to reassure you.

You are currently sitting on his lap, strangling his legs, still cuffed around him. You both are sitting on the back of the ambulance, as the paramedic takes care of the wound on your arm. Not that you care about it, becoming minuscule in your hierarchy of problems after receiving a death threat from a terrorist. 

“Yes, he is!” You argue back as you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. “He is and he is going to kill me! And I didn't do anything!” 

“Hey, look at me, doll.” He says as he cups your face with his hands. “You are with us, right? Nothing is gonna happen to you if you are with us. Nothing's gonna hurt you if you stick with us. Do you not trust me?” He asks, looking at you with almost puppy eyes, he follows your gaze when you look at the wound on your elbow and looks back to him as he changes his expression to look at you with a bright smile. “No need to answer, doll.”

“How's the damage?” Captain Price (as they told you) asks, walking closer to the both of you. 

“No damage to the bone, but the soft tissue will need some time to heal.” The paramedic says as he gives the last sutures and puts on the dressing. “And either she is a fighter, or she was busy crying about something else, but she didn't complain once.”

“Ah, she's a fighter, that I know.” Price coos at you petting your head again and you feel yourself blush.

“Do you have the key for the cuffs, Captain?” You ask to change the subject and he smiles mischievously when he hears the way you call him.

“Don't call me that, sweet girl. I'm not your Captain, call me John, Price if you are not comfortable with firsts name.” He says and you nod letting him know you understand. “And I asked about the keys, but the master key is at the base. So guess you have to stick around with us for a bit more, sorry dear.”

You hide your face on Kyle's neck again sighing feeling your tears sting in your eyes. A sob escapes your lips and automatically both Price and Kyle are shushing and cooing at you. 

“What's making you so upset, doll? Are you uncomfortable with the sergeant?” Price asks, rubbing your back and you shake your head. “Then what is it? Use your words, love, please.”

“I'm just exhausted… I just wanted to go to bed… I'm so tired…” You mumble against Kyle's skin provoking him goosebumps and a sight to leave his lips.

“Let's get going then, the earlier we get to base the earlier you get back home.” He pats Kyle on the other shoulder and he stands up, you in his arms, as if you were weightless to the taller man.

You don't comment on the fact that he holds you from your ass, it’s too comfortable being held and you’d rather take it than to test your legs and force yourself to walk. 

Price opens the door to the minivan and Kyle sits with you on his lap. Price closes the door, circles the car and opens the door to sit on the other side. You look around quickly to see Ghost driving and Soap on the copilot seat.

After a couple of minutes of the drive, you notice Price slips a bit on his seat, just enough to rest his head on the headrest, and he puts his hat over his face to shield himself from the street lights as he crosses his arm to sleep for the rest of the drive.

And you envy him because you wish you could sleep too. If it wasn't because it seems like Ghost is catching every single curb and bump on the road, and every time he does, your and Kyle’s crotches rub each other making you both groan softly.

His hands find their way to your waist as you reposition yourself on his lap and he whispers to your ear. “You gotta empty that pretty head of yours, luv. It'll help you relax.”

You notice the growing bulge pressing right to your cunt, and when Kyle begins to move your hips back and forth against it… you let him. 

“Such a sweet girl, hm?” He mumbles as he drops wet open mouth kisses on your neck. “Poor, poor birdie. Getting involved in such a nasty situation, because of somebody else's mistakes.”

Little sighs escape your lips as you grab his t-shirt trying to not make any noise, the captain still sleeping on just two seats to your left.

You should be embarrassed, ashamed of yourself, afraid of these men you just met, of doing such a nasty thing in front of three other men even if they haven't noticed jet. 

But Kyle's hardening cock is still brushing against your cunt and it is making it really hard to focus on anything else.

Enjoying his freedom of movement, he undoes the first button of your work shirt, just to keep kissing your neck lower, grazing your collarbone.

His fingertips grab your hips harder, making it easier to move against him. 

“Helping us so much, letting us enter your house, your bedroom, taking the bullet like a champ. The trainees could learn from you. Moving so in sync with me, I didn't step on you even once. But you like moving with me don't you, sweet girl, hm?” He asks against your ear, making you shudder as you keep moving against them.

You can feel your panties get soaked with your arousal, the mix of Kyle's praises being whispered to your skin, his hard cock throbbing again and again against you, your ego inflating because of it, knowing you are affecting him just as he is affecting you, his warm hands on your waist.

“Take what you need, sweet girl. Take it, luv.” He mumbles letting his head rest on the seat headrest as his hand moves down to your ass impulsing you.

You can feel your climax coming closer and closer every second passing, but then Kyle moves you slightly back and the pressure moves to your clothed clit and you hide your face on his neck biting down as the orgasm washes over you.

Kyle goes back to whispering on your neck. “Keep moving, doll. Please, please, a little bit more, just a bit more, I know you can do it, please, doll… you are driving me crazy, please…” he begs softly as he moves his hips against yours making you gasp against his skin. Warm breath against the drool you just let on his skin making him shudder grunting softly just before he cums on his pants against your cunt. 

So close yet so far 

I have never in my life written smut before, so let me know how catastrophic that was.

Anyway, sorry if it is messy, I really have no clue where I'm taking this. Let me know if there any scenarios you would like to happen 💗

And I can't express how happy I am that so many people liked the first part, really, thanks so much.

[celestialprincesse]

Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰

John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.

They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.

Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.

Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.

He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.

Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.

"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.

Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."

Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.

"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.

Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.

The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.

"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.

The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.

"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.

"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.

For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.

"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.

The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.

"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.

"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."

You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.

"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

[cordeliawhohung]

uhm enjoy this totally self indulgent hurt/comfort pornstar!gaz x reader where you fake an orgasm on set (:

Two hours isn’t an uncommon amount of time for a shoot. Even for the most experienced of actors, there are plenty of position changes, water breaks, and directions to be given that always bogs down film time in some capacity. You’re used to it. You’d been in that industry for years, so you know how to pass the time, especially when filming with Kyle. He always knows how to make you laugh, how to strike up a conversation as lights and camera angles are adjusted — it’s always nice with him. 

But something is different about today. It feels painfully long, like you’ve spent a majority of your day there rather than just a handful of hours. You’re more quiet than usual, and when Kyle attempts to strike up a conversation, your responses are just as empty as your eyes. A terrible glossiness has taken over their usual beautiful sheen, yet you still push through in all the obnoxious angles the director has you contort into in order to give the viewers the best visual possible. 

Kyle notices almost immediately. There’s something empty and numb in the way your body reacts to his touches. Your pretty moans sound dull when he pumps two thick fingers into you, and your brows don’t pinch together when he whispers in your ear. When he sinks his cock into your cunt after an overly drawn out foreplay period, you don’t flutter around him like you normally do. All your little tells — those delicious tells — have suddenly vanished off the face of the earth, leaving the studio feeling empty as he ruts into you. 

Really, you’re just glad your face is in the mattress while Kyle fucks you, because you don’t think you could look him in the eyes. Not when you’re feeling like that. It’s as if some void has taken up the space in your chest just for something rotten and vile to fester in the darkness. Nothing feels good. It doesn’t feel bad either, it’s just so far out of your reach you don’t even bother trying to chase it. 

You’re so… tired. Tired of filming, of being there in that fucking studio as people peer at you from behind cinema cameras and lights so bright you’re all but promised a migraine later. You just want it to be over; to go home and sleep until whatever that darkness is finally passes, so you do the unthinkable. 

You’ve never had to fake an orgasm with Kyle before. He always takes such good care of you, always is so attentive and in tune with your needs and desires, but you’ve done it so many times before with other actors that it’s easy. It’s easy to wrench your eyes shut as you force your thighs to tremble, and you moan and groan like a pathetic bitch in heat just how you know the viewers like. What makes it difficult is that Kyle’s pace slows, as if trying to gently fuck you through the orgasm that was never even on the crux of arriving. 

The moment he pulls out and tells the director he’s done for the day, you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Huh?” the director asks as if baffled. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” Kyle repeats. 

“We’ve got Viagra on hand if you need it,” the director says, trying to convince him to go longer. 

“I said that’s enough.” 

You bury your face further into the fresh linens at Kyle’s biting tone. You’ve never heard him sound so stern before; not the playful and teasing Kyle Garrick. It was enough to get the director to give in, and you hear a symphony of sighs echo throughout the room as everyone starts to tear the set down. Though all you wanted to do was go home, you couldn’t bring yourself out of the sheets. Maybe you didn’t really want to go home at all; just melt into the bed until there was nothing of you left. 

Plush fabric brushes against your back, causing you to jolt. Kyle smooths your robe over your body as he gently urges you to sit up so you can get your arms through the sleeves. 

“C’mon,” he quietly prompts, “let’s get cleaned up.” 

Once you are both properly wrapped in your robes, Kyle keeps an arm snug around your waist as he leads you into your dressing room. Usually the two of you go your separate ways once the cameras stop rolling, but he doesn’t this time. He closes and locks the door behind both of you as you mindlessly wander towards the counter. Pressure begins to build behind your eyes as white hot shame boils in your stomach, climbing up your chest and into your face. 

Kyle lets you run away for only a short moment before he’s crossing the distance between the door and the counter, hands ready to mend whatever is broken. You want to retract, to continue to hide away instead of facing the beast eating you from the inside out, but your fortitude breaks the moment his hands reach your shoulders. 

“Doll,” he says, voice so soft it’s as if he fears he’ll shatter you with words alone. “Where’s your head at?” 

You refuse to look at him, and instead your eyes keep glued to his chest as you keep your head lowered. The biting sting of tears builds in your eyes just as your bottom lip begins to tremble. It’s impossible to articulate the way bile eats at your esophagus just at the thought of trying to spill your guts to anyone, let alone Kyle. You try in vain to keep a straight face, but your sniffling has already given you away. 

“You know you don’t have to fake it with me, yeah? If you’re not into it, we can always stop,” Kyle then says. 

Wide eyes suddenly pierce through Kyle’s face as you look up at him, bewildered. “You could tell?” you ask as your voice cracks. 

It’s difficult for him to find the words to explain how familiar your body is to him. How he has every inch of it ingrained in his mind as if it had never been separate from him at all. Yet you give him no time to even think before your hands are pawing at your eyes as you try and wipe away your tears. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything feels so off, but everyone was already getting set up and I just- I don’t know,” you ramble. 

“Hey, hey,” Kyle shushes. His hands glide from your shoulders to your cheeks where he holds your head in place, forcing you to look at him. His touch is almost as warm as his eyes are as he studies your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he continues. “You don’t have to explain anythin’ to me. We all have those days. Just… promise me next time you’ll talk to me. I don’t wanna fuck you if you’re not into it.” 

His words destroy you in a way nothing else has, and it’s enough to really get the waterworks running. Despite it all, his gaze is soft as his thumbs brush your cheeks, and you begin to melt into him as your hands reach for his chest for stability. 

“I promise. I’m sorry, I promise,” you sob. 

Kyle cradles the back of your head as he holds you in the tightest embrace you’ve ever received. The soft fabric of his robe soaks up your tears as your body rattles with each cry that escapes. Soft kisses press against the crown of your head as he holds you together, refusing to let you crumble. 

He doesn’t pull away until you do, and you wipe at your wet face. Crying doesn’t make you feel any better than you thought it would, and if anything it leaves you feeling emptier than before. But Kyle doesn’t give up on you. It isn’t long before the dressing room fills with steam from the running shower and he’s leading you in there with your hand in his. 

Hot water washes over your body while Kyle scrubs you clean. There’s something holy about the way his hands glide over your skin, as if he’s cleaning you from the inside out. Neither of you say a word, you just stand there and let him work at you until your muscles loosen and you’re so tired you’re certain you’ll fall asleep on your feet. 

Kyle guides your heavy head up to look at him, and you watch his eyes take in the sight of your tired lids. Concern is still etched deep into his features even as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. Gears begin to visibly turn in his mind, and you feel your chest expand with something warm. His mouth twitches before it lands on yours, stealing you away with a kiss. There’s something different about this kiss. It’s leagues different from the ones he normally gives you on set; the primal, messy kiss where his tongue slips into your mouth as if he’s trying to devour you. 

No, there is something different in the softness of it all. How he’s not trying to devour you as much as he is trying to know you. When his lips break away from yours just to dive back in for more, you nearly confuse it for love. You’re not sure what it is, or what it’s supposed to be; all you know is that it leaves you feeling a little less empty and only wanting more. 

[ang3ll1c]

Post argument sex with Gaz

(Unedited, just wanted to write something after so long of having no ideas)

This man is stubborn, my baby doesn’t have many flaws (ignoring that he’s a war criminal) but he refuses admit he’s wrong. He also refuses to apologise because why would he apologise if he’s right? That’s a little harsh, he does end up apologising just with his dick instead.

The pair of you get in a stupid fight, something that was easily preventable but still ended up happening.

You’re pissed off with him, giving him the silent treatment and not even bothering to sleep in the same bed as him that night. You take your pillow and spend that night on the couch ignoring his protests.

You wake up to the feeling of someone’s lips against your neck and unless you have an insane stalker you weren’t aware of, it’s Kyle.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled groggily, not bothering to push him away in your sleep addled state. You don’t get a response instead you feel his calloused hand move down your stomach and slip under the band of your sweatpants. “Kyle-“

“Shhh. Let me make things better.” He murmurs and you’re unsure whether this is turning you on or making you want to slap him in the face. Your thought process was cut short when his fingers reached the soft cotton if your underwear, running them across your slit and making you gasp. You hated how good he made you feel but if there was one thing he was good at it was making you feel good.

“You like that?” He almost growled his face moving to rest against the crook of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you. His thumb moves to brush against your clit making your hips involuntary buck into his touch. “Getting so mad over nothing,” His tone so incredibly condensing, you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “Just need a good fuck to sort you out.”

“You’re an asshole.” You spit out though you don’t stop him when he pulls both of your pijamas off and slips your underwear to the side. His half-hard cock rubs against your pussy, collecting the slick over his head. “You don’t listen, you just brush me off, you’re never even here.” You rant though your words aren’t very effective, interrupted by harsh breaths of pleasure and stifled moans.

“I know, I know lovey.” He coos, almost sounding understanding and he was but you could discuss that later. He finally pushed his length inside you, groaning at the sensation of your tight velvety walls around him. His fingers find his way into your mouth, his index and middle slipping between your plump lips only allowing the sounds of your whines and moans to leave.

He fucks into you slowly, taking in every sensation. The feeling of your tongue against his fingers, the way you clench around him when he hits a spot that makes pleasure build in the pit of your stomach.

You had to remind yourself that you were mad but that was getting increasingly difficult with how he was making you feel. Your head fell back against his shoulder, a string of drool slipping down your chin and your chest rising and falling rapidly as your hips grinder against him to meet his thrusts. A mess. He’d turned you into a mess.

“You want to cum for me?” He asks like it was even a question to begin with. He removed his fingers from your mouth and rubbed his saliva drenched fingers against your clit once again, making you whine sharply in pleasure. “You want to feel good for me?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed out, trying to get your words out as quick as possible. “Please, please. I want it want it so bad.” You babbled, begging as of your life depended on it. The coil inside you felt like it was about to burst. You had forgot about the argument, had forgotten about your annoyance, you just wanted him, you wanted him to make you cum. With one more snap of his hips and circle of his index fingers, you break. You gush over his dick, unable to stop yourself from moaning his name loudly even if it was probably making him significantly more smug.

His hands tighten his hold one you. One arm wrapped around his waste and his other holding your jaw to keep you pressed up close against him. He helps you ride out your orgasm while also chasing his, pumping rapidly in and out of your fluttering cunt. “So good.” He praises, the words catching in his throat as his own pleasure builds. Even when the pair of you are arguing he always manages to let you cum first. “So, so fucking good for me.” He grunts as his load spills out into you, filling you up with his hot cum.

That night you feel asleep on the sofa with him still inside of you, snuggled close to each other. That morning Gaz wasn’t there, he was making coffee and when he arrived back to the living room he sat in the exact same place and discussed said argument. Communication!

[romanticintheory]

thinking about simon riley being betrayed by reader.

simon "ghost" riley x reader

-when you first joined the task force, you were a breath of fresh air.

-you were extremely good at what you did and had great chemistry with everyone. even simon.

-kyle loved having you as his new training buddy. the two of you found that your music tastes surprisingly overlapped, so you'd often share playlists with each other.

-johnny was, as always, excited to have someone new to banter with. if he had to take a shot for every time you made him laugh, he'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning.

-john was relieved seeing you integrate so well into his team. it was like introducing a new puppy to three of his own. when laswell sat him down and introduced your file, a little barren compared to the others (save for simon) but with a raving review from the woman herself, he was curious to see your character.

-and even if he didn't show it, simon was the most grateful for your arrival. there was just an unspoken level of understanding between the two of you.

-one day, you're kneeling next to him on the floor trying to put pressure on his wound and keep him alive long enough for help to arrive. you didn't know each other extremely well, but you seemed so upset. he couldn't imagine why.

-"hey, now, don't go quiet on me, lt," you said in an almost begging tone.

-"you must not know me well," he replied, fighting groans from the pain.

-you ignore his attempt at amusing you. "tell me something," you order, voice starting to crack.

-so, he did. maybe it was the fact that he was lightheaded from the blood loss and half delusional, or maybe it was that he wanted to feel closer to you, but he ended up telling you about his family. he talked about the monster of a man his father was, how he learned to throw him out and take care of his family, and how not even that had a happy ending.

-by the end of it, there was a voice on the other end of your radio telling you they were less than a minute away from help. you slipped your hand into his and told him, "if you can survive that, you can survive this."

-it wasn't until after he recovered that he found out you had your own stab wound to take care of. why you completely disregarded it in favor of his, he'll never know.

-ever since, there was a change in the air between you two. fleeting glances, lingering touches, warm faces. it got even worse when you confessed your feelings to each other, and johnny made sure to be as obnoxious about it as possible.

-for a long time before you, simon felt a kind of loneliness within him. sure, the rest of the team was good company and he'd trust them with his life, but you seemed to do more than just break down his walls. somehow, you seeped through the cracks in his heart and made a home of it. that's why he is so surprised when everyone is taken prisoner except you after an unexpected ambush.

-the surprise eventually turns into something worse.

-there's a blinding rage surging in his veins and an icy coldness in his heart when he catches a glimpse of you acting buddy-buddy with the enemy.

-you're called a name he had never heard before, "(y/n) (l/n)," and being congratulated on your return.

-"knew you'd never disappoint us! and four of 'em, too!"

-how could you to this to them? to him?

-he spends the next excruciatingly long hours as a prisoner with no sleep. the only thing on his mind is wondering what went wrong. what did he miss? what could he have done differently? for a second, he wants to think about how he'd get vengeance on you, but he couldn't. his mind wouldn't let him, and he cursed himself for it. were you that good at manipulation? at seducing him with your supposed love and humanity that, even now, he can't think of you with ill intent without that sour feeling in his chest haunting him?

-he thinks he's hallucinating when he sees you standing at the now unlocked door to his cell with the rest of the task force standing behind you. you speak in a quick, hushed whisper, as if there was barely any time to even say a single word.

-"you'll have to be quick if you want to get out of here."

[gloomwitchwrites]

for your tf141 imagines and prompts

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

especially if it would be them asking or their partner.

soap is totally the kind of guy to ask his so this.

I've been giggling my ass off at this request (in the best way possible). I had so much fun writing quick little drabbles for each of them. Enjoy!

Find the Imagines & What If masterlist HERE

Content Warnings (MDNI): foul language, brief suggestive themes (on one)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price:

“John?”

John glances up from the morning paper. The two of you sit outside in the garden. The sky is gray and cloudy.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

John blinks. Frowns. “Would I still love you if you were a worm?”

“That’s right,” you reply.

John places his steaming mug of tea on the table beside him. Then, he folds up the paper, placing it in his lap.

“We have three kids together.”

“I know. But—”

John shakes his head. “Of course I’d still love you. What kind of bloody fucking question is that?”

John "Soap" MacTavish:

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

You sit up and laugh, disbelief in your tone. “What did you just ask me?”

John shrugs and then grins sheepishly. “If I was a worm, would you still love me?”

“Asking the important questions,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Always.” He rolls onto his stomach and rests his cheek on his fist. “Humor me.”

“I’d keep you in a little jar of dirt. Carry you around everywhere. Give you tiny kisses,” you say.

John nods. “Good answer.” He fishes out his phone. “I’m gonna ask Simon the same thing.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

You turn on your side, wiggling up to Simon’s side in the bed. He sits up with his back against the headboard. The silk sheets are tangled around his thighs, and he holds a pack of smokes in his hand.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Simon just stares.

“Would you—”

“I fucking heard you.” You watch him inhale. “A worm? A fucking worm?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

“You fell apart on my tongue a bloody minute ago.”

“True.” You pause. “Does that mean—”

“Yes. Bloody fucking hell.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Answer the question.”

Kyle smiles behind his mug of English tea. “No.”

“Kyle!”

He shrugs and takes a sip. You place your hands on your hips. “I require an answer.”

Laughing softly, Kyle places his tea down on the counter behind him. He leans back casually, crossing his arms. He’s not wearing a shirt.

“You want an answer?” he asks.

“Yes. I do,” you reply.

Kyle huffs, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “I’d give you to Captain Price as fish bait.”

You point at him, stifling your own rising laughter. “How fucking dare you.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82

[ghosts-bandwagon]

TF141 + König help you move

Here’s some backstory (bc this is incredibly self-indulgent send help): you take everything upon yourself, plan everything down to the last detail so you just wind up overwhelming yourself and then you’re just running on fumes the entire time, you are not at peace until you’ve moved into the new place, you are a ball of stress aaaand go:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s very much the type to watch you go, he knows you’re overloading yourself and he wants to step in but he also knows you need to learn how to ask for help

That’s not to say he’s completely hands off, he’s listening to every word when you review your checklist, he’s helping you pack- everything from assembling the boxes to sealing them when they’re full

He’s taken it upon himself to make sure you eat a proper meal

“What’s this?” You ask as you mute your phone while on hold with the utilities company for your new place,

“It’s breakfast. Eat.”

“I already-”

“Iced coffee isn’t food, love.”

Bet

So he’ll take to cooking or grabbing your favorite take out

If you’re worried you forget something, he’ll go down the list with you, going so far as to grab your notebook and review it with you

He encourages you to sort through your belongings and figure out what you want to keep and what you want to give away

His rule: if I haven’t seen you use it, wear it, read it, or touch it in the last six months, it’s going in the giveaway box (save for stuff with sentimental value)

Surprisingly enough, it helps reduce how much you have to pack and you couldn’t be more thankful

All in all, 10/10

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s so much fun to be around

He knows you’re taking on too much and he’ll tell you as much

“I’m fine, Johnny, I just like these things done a certain way. And when the order gets messed up, I have a panic attack.”

“Well, then explain how you’d like it done, and I’ll see to it that it stays that way, sound good?”

He’s so understanding god bless

He does everything possible to make the process stress free, from putting on music while you’re packing and cleaning, to being in charge of snacks 

He helps divide the labor very seamlessly, he does all the physical stuff (packing, cleaning, moving furniture, etc) and he leaves the logistics to you, (utilities, new apt, address change, etc)

If at any point you feel like it’s still too much, he’ll jump in without hesitation 

Just tell him where you’re struggling and what your next task is and he’ll gladly take over

You point, he’ll shoot (or pack, in this case)

John Price:

Like??

Good luck trying to take control of the whole thing

He’s way ahead of you and doesn’t let you do a single thing on your own, that’s not true, he’ll let you do things on your own but not all of it, you get the idea

Man’s a Captain for god’s sake, he definitely has a system to make the process easier

He makes sure you start the process sooner rather than later to avoid scrambling last minute

Before even buying boxes, he’ll sit down with you to come up with a checklist for things to do and what order to pack your place in

He’s very encouraging throughout the whole process

“Phew, almost an hour later and I was successfully able to transfer my car insurance.” You sighed slumping against the table, practically throwing your phone to the other side of the room

“You’re doin’ great, love, keep it up.” He comes up behind you to rub your shoulders and rub your back encouragingly

He’s with you every step of the way

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

I love him but I can see it as being kind of chaotic lmao but still fun!

You better believe he’s got Animal Crossing music on loop

He claims it’ll help you get into the cleaning/packing frame of mind and son of a bitch he’s right 

He sets a hard limit of one to two things a day, so if you finished packing up your living room sooner than you expected and now you want to move on to your bedroom, too damn bad

He’ll physically stop you lol

“You already did enough, babe, it’s time to rest.”

“I feel fine, Ky, I can keep going.”

“Trust me darlin’, take it easy, you’re doing great.”

Definitely the type to give you a treat to help keep you motivated, or even start your day with a treat

You’re dreading calling the new internet company to set up your new wifi? Well guess what? He’s treating you to coffee and a cinnamon roll from your favorite cafe to help motivate you

You’re dead tired after packing up all your belongings in your room, dinner is your pick babe, whatever you want, yes, Taco Bell is perfectly ok 

König:

Very good at following directions and equally good at being perceptive and knowing when to step in without being asked

He knows you have a habit of taking on more than you can handle but he also knows your tells just as well

Increased irritability, you’re more tired than usual, you’re not eating as much, drinking more coffee than you normally do, jittery leg, trouble sleeping, he knows you babe, he sees you

So he does everything he can to prevent you from getting to that point

If you’re complaining about packing all your books, don’t worry about it, he’s on it

You’re stressed about cleaning as you pack, no need, he’s already coming behind you with Clorox wipes, a broom, and a swiffer mop

He encourages you to offload some of your tasks to him, insisting that he knows how you want it done and can do it accordingly

“Schatz, you have so much on your plate already, let me handle renting the truck and getting the supplies, we’ll go over what you want to do first, and I’ll help you do it, ok?”

At the end of the night when your limbs ache from exhaustion, he gently taking your hands in his and massaging the tension away, placing little kisses as he goes

[dollyyss]

Main four + Butter and how they cuddle…?

Please don’t ever feel pressured to do these on spot <3!!!

Im just— Kyle is heavy on my brain rn. Hhhhggh.. I can’t stop thinking.. about.. him..

Also some of this may of gotten a bit.. nsfwish I apologize.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝑲𝒀𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑮𝑨𝑵𝑮 + 𝑩𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑪𝑼𝑫𝑫𝑳𝑬

𝙀𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 ₊ ⊹

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥! 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝘼𝙐‧₊˚✩彡

𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙚, 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣, 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙮, 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘽𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨𐙚

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: nsfw

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Kyle 🐇𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒🪐

-Please.. Kyle’s got you in the goddamn honeymoon hug. You’re both facing each other, his arms are wrapped around your middle and yours wrapped around his neck. His legs and yours intertwined.

-He’s such a lover boy I can’t. His nose occasionally will press against yours, the two of you giggling and talking about anything and everything in such a gentle tone. Sometimes a whisper.

-He’ll do this normally, he just wants you close so he can tell you how much he loves you, how warm you are. How much he never wants to get up and could stay like this for hours. Kyle especially does this when it comes to movies. But.. it’s because he’s sleepy. If you’re helping him watch Ike while his parents are out, at some point Ike is put to bed, and Kyle suggests that maybe you two could watch a movie, something to pass the time but he says this as he’s already dragging himself around half asleep so you know what he means. He wants sleep, you can watch the movie. The minute you say yes his tall form is rushing over to the couch, squishing you into it while you both lay down. His back faces the tv, head cradled in your neck while yours rests on his shoulder to turn a movie on. His legs tangle with yours and just like that.. Kyle Broflovski is knocked the fuck out.

- He’s also the type of mother fucker to pull you back in if you try to get up. “No baby, just stay here. Please.” He’s mumbling, pressing kisses to your neck, those kisses turn into soft licks and nipping. His hands roaming more then they were 5 minutes ago. “Ky c’mon I’ll lay down with you, you wanted to cuddle” your ears heat up, fingers gripping his shoulders. He chuckles quietly, his fingers finding their way to your draw string. “M’sorry, I’ll stop.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Kiss?”

-He won’t ever really cuddle in public, but once you’re either at his or yours and studies are out of the way? he’s all over you.

-I may be obsessed with Kyle. Guys. I may.. be obsessed. Did I mention obsessed? I’m obsessed. Come to our wedding ;)

Stan .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

-I feel like Stan is a clingy cuddle type. And I mean, someone speaks to you? He’s latched and immediately pulling you into his lap to curl you up so he can rest his head on you, hands rubbing at your legs. Someone’s looking your way? Yup “give me your hand.” He’s gripping it and pulling you into him so he can lean against you, swaying softly while he hides his face on your shoulder or in your hair.

-He’s also the type to cuddle when he’s drunk. “hic hiiii~ you look, so good right now.. hic” he’ll find the comfiest spot to lay you, practically flopping on top of you and mumbling on and on about whatever goes through that dumb brain of his. He’ll pass out sooner or later but before he does make sure to give him a gentle lil kiss to his messy dyed blonde hair, catch him smiling like a dumb idiot with that dopey face, cheeks red and warm

-He tends to come cuddle when he’s had a shit day and his father is just being an actually fucking dick. He’ll sneak into your room, tripping over shit but trying to be as quiet as possible. When he finds your bed he takes his shoes off and slips into the sheets with you, his head popping up between your arms, his hands under your shirt. “Hm?” You wake suddenly not sure who was in the bed at the moment, though the voice was enough to tell you it was Stan. “Hey hey, shh, it’s just me babe” his hand squeezes your side softly. “Just wanted to get away from dad.” He mumbles before feeling you bring him closer to you. Suddenly, he very quickly realized. In that moment. You were his home.

-He’s not horribly crazy about cuddling, you really just have to catch him at the right time. Either you let him come to you or sometimes if you come to him, he’s already ready for you. It really just depends on his day.

Kenny ₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉

-If there is ever a time where Kenny has his hands off of you for a long period of time. Something is wrong. So cuddling is a must in your relationship with him.

-Kenny will cuddle anywhere, and I mean anywhere. This could be at school, an outing with his friends, at a restaurant, outside. Literally everywhere. As long as his hands are on you in some type of way he’s content.

-I’m sorry but.. cuddling with Kenny will result in some sort of sexual activity. Unless he’s tired, or.. stoned. If he’s tired, he’s sprawled all over you drooling and getting the best sleep of his god damn life, his arm is sprawled over your chest, his head is half off your shoulder and one leg is hunched up just below your stomach. If he’s stoned he’s got your head on his chest, one arm around your shoulder while the other is behind his head. He’s spewing none sense but.. he’s making you laugh so it’s all that matters to him.

-….cockwarming. Cough.

- “c’mon please?! I promise I won’t do anything” there’s a pause between the two of you “Kenny? Fine but nothing more, I wanna lay down” he’s nodding his head intensely, impatiently waiting for you get under his covers, following you quickly as he watches your slip your pants and underwear off, pushing them to the side. He’s quick to do the same, his tongue out like a panting dog as he slips in, his teeth biting down onto your shoulder as you both let out a pleasurable moan. Kenny’s fingers trace up and down your arms, soothing you. He honest to god probably falls asleep like this, snuggled into your back and whimpering occasionally at any sudden movement. His hand rests at your waist, soft snores leaving his lips.

Cartman 🎧✮🧺✧˖°

-“Do you want me to die?! Is that what you’re saying right now?! Wow, well fine, I’ll just keep warm with someone else” cartman crosses his arms, watching you cock his brow at him, “cuddle, you mean” he cocks his eyebrow back, “keep warm.” You let out a snicker “righttt, just admit it Cartman you wanna cuddle there’s nothing wrong with that”

-He doesn’t like to admit it but he loves your cuddles. We all know cartman is on the chubbier side so he’s actually really nice to cuddle with, he’s warm, soft, and actually just really relaxing to cuddle up to.

-He won’t really notice it but his hands tend to pull you closer, rubbing your legs, arms, occasionally running his fingers through your hair. Depends on how you lay, but typically you’re at his either of his sides, he tells you nonsense stories until you fall asleep and when you do. He’ll pull out his phone to take a few quick pictures of you, saving it in his folder he has specially for you. Yeah he can be a sweetheart, shut up.

-The only time he’ll ask for genuine cuddles is when he’s sick. He’s a man baby when he’s sick and you can’t change my mind. “Y/nnnnnnnnn” he’ll be so whiny, giving the stupid ass pout to make you do what he asks. You’re sure he’ll ask you for soup which you’d gladly make but when he asks for a cuddle you’re quite surprised. It doesn’t take you long to find your way under his sheets, sitting slightly up right so he can rest against you. Your fingers rummage through his hair, scratching at his scalp and massaging his temples. He really does appreciate it, and he’ll make it up to you. …at some point.

Butters ˚☆🐈*๑

-Like Stan he’s the clingy cuddling type. But not in like a jealous way just more, he just wants you around him so he’ll cuddle you to keep you there.

-if you two are ever out with friends or even doing something with his parents if he doesn’t have your touch he literally goes insane. He tries to find anyway to touch you, his foot touching your leg, his hand trying to find your hand, trying to move closer to you, literally anything to at least feel you.

-But when he has the chance to have his hands on you he’s a giggling mess. He likes to be the little spoon, he likes feeling you all squished up to his back, your hands around him so his hands can hold yours. He’ll curl up slightly as well, finding any sense of your warmth. If this mf could be in your skin. He would. He just wants you as close as you can get. If he ends up falling asleep, at some point he’s turned around, face squished between your arms that are hugging his head, your body latched around him and he could not be happier with the way he woke up.

-He likes to kiss when cuddling. His hand will be moving your hair out of the way while he presses kisses to your face. At times you hide it from him, shy at the way he just can’t stop pressing kisses to your face. “Aw jeez, don’t hide from me! It’s only a little kiss darlin” he uses his nose to brush against your hands, trying to push them apart because he wants to kiss your lips.

-like Kyle, once you’re cuddling. You’re trapped. He’s not letting you up for anything. Unless you really have to use the bathroom then if that’s the case he feels bad for keeping you locked in his arms. “Oh but please be quick okay! I still want cuddles!”

[cuubism]

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

--

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

--

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

[reidsdimples]

Requested by @reidsdaisies

“would you be up for writing another dom!spencer fic (a little more of the softer dominance side) with punishment. maybe the reader does something in order to make him jealous (wether purposely or not) and when they’re in comfort and privacy, he reminds her who she belongs with. if you do want to write this, could it possibly involve some spanking? unless ofc it makes you uncomfy"

A/N- love this idea! Hope you enjoy!

A Not So Gentle Reminder

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

Your attempts to make Spencer jealous work.

“Oh he’s going to eat his heart out when he sees this!” You gush at Penelope as you tug down the short red dress which is riding up your thighs.

“Told you I have good taste!” She winks at you. “And punish him, he’s acting like a jerk.”

The two of you are in her apartment, preparing to meet the rest of the team and whomever their dates are at a bar. You and Spencer had an argument over his inability to give you the proper attention you needed outside of work.

You were wrapped up in work too, both of you being in the BAU but he was so stubborn once he set his mind on something. You had stormed out of your shared apartment and told him you’d meet him at the bar later.

You had a feeling he’d be upset, but not as upset as he was going to be when you showed up in this dress. You smirk in the mirror and ensure your cleavage looks perfect.

-

When you and Garcia walk in with arms linked, it takes a minute to find the team. JJ and Will cancelled last minute to be with the baby but Emily and Derek were conversing at the bar.

“Damn!” Derek praises as he strolls up to greet the two of you. He spins Penelope around to inspect her dress before holding your arm up and doing the same to you. “You still with Pretty boy?” He playfully flirts with you like always.

“She is,” comes Spencer’s voice from behind you as he presses his entire body against your back. His hand snakes around your waist and you feel him inhale you deeply.

“No Hotch either,” Emily waves her phone around. You frown.

“Rossi?” You ask and step out of Spencer’s grasp.

“On his way,” she smiles.

“Frozen Piná Colada please,” you ask the bartender and lean purposely over the bar. You feel your dress ride up slightly and Spencer’s eyes burning into you.

“They’re fighting,” Garcia whispers to Derek and Emily.

Spencer is still lingering some distance away from you when you pop up on a barstool with your drink. You stare into his eyes when you gently place the tip of the straw into your mouth and suck.

He’s seething, you can see his fingers twitching. He’s thinking, calculating how exactly to respond. You knew he wanted to punish you, he had a thing for it. Not that you minded, in fact giving in would be him playing right into your little game. He knew it.

He avoids you and stands on the other side of Derek, effectively putting the whole group between you.

Someone you don’t know lands on the empty barstool on your other side, Penelope’s eyes going wide. Even Rossi raises his eyebrows as if to see where this will go.

“Another frozen drink for the lady,” the attractive man buys you a drink.

Spencer doesn’t miss it, you see his shaggy hair shift as he turns his head to listen.

“And who are you?” You purr and turn to him as you throw one leg over the other.

You were pretty sure you were going to burst into flames from the heat of Spencer’s eyes burning into you.

“Hey how are you,” Penelope wraps an arm around you and greets the stranger. “Boy genius is turning red, wrap it up,” she whispers in your air.

The bartender slides her the other drink just as she finishes the first one.

“Kyle, what’s your name?” His eyes scan your body and he turns so his knee grazes your leg.

“Y/N,” you offer him a sultry smile.

You hear commotion behind you when the man places his hand on your leg and trails is slowly up your thigh.

“Woah,” Derek hums and he’s got Spencer by the crooks of his arms, hauling him backward.

His gaze meets yours, something between anger and heart burning in his.

“Thanks for the drink, I don’t need it,” you push it towards Kyle and stand to leave. Perhaps you took it a little too far.

Spencer and Derek are arguing in the dim hallway leading to the bathrooms when you approach.

“I’m out,” Derek throws up his hands and walks away.

“Too far,” he growls. “I don’t mind our little games but he put his hands on you.” He’s pacing, running his hands through his messy curls. “And this dress? I can see your ass!” He grabs your forearm and pulls you into him.

“I just wanted-“ you whimper.

His breathing is harsh, rapid against you. He backs you into the wall and kisses you hard. It wasn’t sweet, he was claiming you, pinning you to the wall beneath him.

“Go get in the car,” he shoves his keys into your hand and walks quickly back to the group.

You do as he says, heat pooling between your legs. You loved seeing him like this, jealous, angry, just slightly out of control.

It takes a few minutes but he finally drops into the drivers seat. He doesn’t say a word as he revs the engine and speeds off.

“Spencer-“

“Quiet,” he shuts you down. Okay, still mad.

You wondered what he was going to do to you, what kind of punishment he was dreaming up.

When he trails behind you into the apartment, it isn’t wrath or heat in his eyes but something closer to disappointment.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’m sleeping in my office,” he sighs and turns on his heel before sauntering away.

That… that was new. You truly had taken it too far. You knew it, and you hurt him. That’s why you wanted him to hurt you physically, you deserved it. He needed it. Didn’t he?

You go to your shared master room and shrug out of the cursed dress. What are you going to do?

You decide to give him time to calm down before padding gently into his office. You’re wrapped in your black silk robe and your hair is pulled back. He’s lounging on the couch reading War & Peace, a “light read” for him.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry, Spence,” you exhale slowly.

He looked utterly wrecked, you didn’t know that man would touch you but you really didn’t expect it to have such an effect on your boyfriend.

He closes the book and sits up straight on the couch. He looks up at you with sad brown eyes.

“I understand you wanted to entice me. But to flirt with someone else do boldly in front of me, in front of the team…” he inhales sharply and tenses his jaw in frustration. “I promised I would never lay a hand on you in anger.”

“But, but I want you to punish me. I crossed a line,” you plead. “ I deserve it,” you whisper.

He pulls you towards him, his hands on the backs of your thighs until you’re standing between his legs. The touch of his fingertips ignites your body, making you aware of everything.

“What is it you think you deserve?” His hands trail up and squeeze your ass, slightly parting the cheeks. No underwear might have been a good call. “Do you think you should be gagged? Spanked? Should I use your mouth to make myself cum and leave you with nothing?” His words drip seduction as his voice drops an octave.

You just nod. Any, all of it. You don’t care.

He seizes you suddenly as you stare it him with wide eyes. He lurches you from between his legs before bending you over his lap in one swift motion. Your robe scrunches up, pooling around your hips so that your ass is exposed. He places a hand gently there, rubbing thoughtfully.

“Please,” you whimper and arch your ass up. You know he loves to hear you beg.

He brings his hand down with a sharp slap, causing you to jolt. He twists your ponytail around his other hand to pull your head up. He keeps you at an awkward angle to force you to be still.

He slaps you harder now, in the same spot, drawing a whimper from you. He groans in appreciation at the swelling and redness of your ass on the fourth and fifth slap. You’re grunting as tears sting your eyes. It hurts but it’s causing your pussy to throb.

He circles his fingers down down down as though he’s about to touch you where you need it most, but then his hand flies up and he strikes you again.

“No one else touches you like that,” he demands and strikes you again. He drops your head and allows you to writhe in his lap.

“Yes sir,” you whimper.

He flattens his hand on your ass, and leads with his middle finger down to your entrance. He pokes against it gently but you can feel your arousal greet him.

“Do you think someone else can make you feel this good?” He muses.

“No,” you shake your head. It was true, your body had never been so worshipped before Spencer.

He pulls you up to stand on wobbly legs. He stands too and you’re unsure what he’s thinking when he leads you to sit with him on the soft rug in front of the fireplace.

His eyes stare into yours as his nimble fingers untie your robe, allowing it to fall open and off your shoulders.

You hurriedly help him out of his button down and watch hungrily as he undoes his pants. His pretty cock is pulled free, causing your mouth to water. He takes it in his hand and watches you as he strokes it a few times.

“Is this what you want? Is this why you’ve been such a brat?” He taunts as he leans back on one palm and stretches his long legs.

Your pussy aches to be full of him, to feel him inside of you. The tip glistens with precum and you’re entranced in the way his hand fits around his girth, his length. His curly hair is pushed back perfectly, he looks breathtaking. Like a Greek god brought to life.

“Yes,” you whine.

He lays back and you think you’re going to ride him when he redirects you.

“You’re going to sit on my face while I fuck your throat,” he rasps.

You swallow hard and nod. He grips your hips and pulls you backward until you’re hovering over his face. You had never done this before, the feeling of his breath fanning across your pussy causes you to twitch. He presses a hand to your back and pushes you forward.

You greedily gather his hard cock into your hand and squeeze as you pump it. You lick your lips before taking it into your mouth, drooling to soak it so your hand can pleasure him too.

Finally after you set a teasingly slow rhythm with his cock, does his tongue greet you. He presses it flat against your clit before trailing it up and into your soaking wet hole. You moan around his cock and pause, sitting up over his face.

“I said sit,” he growls and pulls you fully onto his face.

You can feel everything, his tongue, his lips, his nose prodding into you, the stubble of facial hair and he laps and licks against you. He thrusts his hips upward, slamming his cock into the back of your throat to remind you of your part in this.

How were you supposed to focus when he’s sucking on your pussy like a dehydrated man? But you do, you bob your head and suck hard, allowing him to thrust deep into your throat. You’re amazed at the skills he possesses to fuck your mouth while fucking your pussy with his tongue.

You’re moaning around his cock, it feels too fucking good. You starts twisting your hand around him and sucking his cock faster, earning a sharp slap across your ass when he moans. You’re losing yourself in pleasure and your climax approaches.

You know he’s getting close, his cock red and angry. You swirls your tongue around him, tasting his sweet silky skin. Until finally his hips stutter and he breaks his mouth free of your cunt to moan.

He pushes his hips upward and shoots cum into your throat. It keeps coming in hot streams and you swallow all of him with a satisfied moan.

“Good girl,” he praises but turns his attention back to your pussy.

He sucks your clit into his mouth in the way that drives you crazy and makes you sit up, somewhat straightening your back.

You find yourself shyly thrusting against his face but stop, embarrassed at how good it feels. You cry out but then he starts guiding your hips to rock against his perfect fucking face.

You can feel the shape of his sharp jaw against your thighs, it’s so hot. He greedily buries himself in your pussy until you’re crying out, shaking as your orgasm crashes through you.

He doesn’t stop, he moves his head to keep his face buried deep and you’re wondering how he’s breathing. The room is filled with the wet sounds of him devouring you but you don’t care how filthy it sounds. You throw your head back and ride him as long as he’ll let you.

You know what he’s doing, he’s showing you that you’re his. The your pussy is his, that no one else gets to taste you, no one else gets to make you cum.

“Spencer!” You’re crying out as he sends you over the edge again. He’s filthy is all you can think, he’s prefect.

When he helps you off of him, he sits up and looks at you.

“Here,” you hand him his shirt to wipe his face. He huffs a breathy laugh but does so.

“I love you,” he caresses your cheek. “You just needed a reminderthat you belong to me.”

“Always. I love you too,” you take his hand in yours and kiss him deeply. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He smiles, relieved.

“Now let me run you a bath and give you a massage,” he kisses your forehead and stands.

[peachesofteal]

İ love! Love! Love! Love! The omegaverse au?!?!? How do you think the guys would react to darling still trying to take care of herself because while she recognizes them as safe she still thinks she has to çare for herself...like trying to self-soothe and cook or whatnot for herself or the other parts of heat y'know y'know while the guys are there an it's just aughhh like they want to take care of her and this is the perfect oppurtinty but she's still shying away from them because that's all her hindbrain self knows?

I see this happening after everything that’s going on currently in the omegaverse au, possibly for darling’s next cycle, first cycle with her mates after she's come clean about everything.

18+ mdni/ dead disco omegaverse au / mature and explicit themes

You're restless.

Johnny can feel you, fidgeting, muscles tensing and relaxing in his hold, where you're snuggled up against his chest on the couch. He blinks, perplexed, because you should be fully enthralled in this movie at this point. It's one of your favorites. You insisted on watching it.

Casually, slowly, he leans forward to give you a sniff, the movement not as subtle as he would like, but goes unnoticed by you all the same. He gets a good draw from your gland, lungful of you, the scent that he knows and loves, the scent that feels like home, underneath it something else lingers.

Something fruited. Something ripe.

His eyes widen. His body responds, blood roaring in his ears, muscles seizing in response, nostrils flaring, trying to get more, and more. Fuck.

"Darling?" He coos, edging closer, wrapping an arm around you to tuck you into his body. "Everything alright?" You must be in pre-heat. You must. You're not nesting, or exhibiting any other symptoms, but you have to be close.

"Mmm? Yeah." you answer, sleepily, not even looking Simon's way when he rounds the couch.

"What's goin' on?"

"Nothing." you snatch a reply from Johnny's mouth, and he shakes his head. Later, the motion says.

They put you in bed sometime after that. You go easily, curling up in Johnny's arms until you're softly snoring, and he's able to slip away, tucking you in tight with a glass of water on the table. Just in case.

"She's in pre-heat." He says in whoosh as soon as he closes the door, and Simon nods, like he already knows. "Ye knew?"

"I suspected. Caught her stockpiling some of our dirty clothes in the closet yesterday. Said she was doing laundry but, it didn't make sense." Johnny pulls at the neck of his shirt, the clothes suddenly feeling too tight, too warm, too itchy, and Simon's gaze narrows.

"You can't." He tells him simply, and Johnny blanches. "This is her first real heat with us, I don't want you in a rut."

"Ah know."

"Tamp it down."

"Ah-" Simon grips him behind the neck, bringing their foreheads together before pressing a long, sweet kiss to his lips.

"I love you. But I will send you to Kyle's if I think you cannot handle this." He's stern, and Johnny gulps. He knows what's at stake. He knows what it means, that you're going to into heat again, so soon, after coming off the suppressants. He knows you're going to need an extra gentle hand, gentle touch, encouragement the whole way. If he's in a rut, he won't be able to give that to you. He'll be too busy fixated on fucking you full of his come and getting you pregnant.

"It doesn't feel like a rut, ah just feel, uncomfortable." he assures, and Simon nods, placing another quick kiss on his lips and pulling away.

"I've called Price. Told him not to expect us for another week and a half, at least." Simon pauses, turning back, looking him up and down. "Anything I can do for this discomfort?" His toes curl, delicious desire heating up his spine, and he's nodding the whole way to the couch.

You're starting to lose your grip.

You can feel it. You wake in the morning a little more miserable, body starting to cramp, and with the pain, comes confusion. Delusion. You have to actively stare at both of the guys for too long, blinking and committing them to memory before you can get out of bed, reminding yourself that you're at home, you're safe. You're with them, and they'd never hurt you. You're okay.

They start to wake up once they feel you shift, and you tell them you're going to the bathroom, where you end up staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long. Who are you? Are you in there? What were you doing in here?

You touch your gland, feeling it beneath your finger, muscle memory trying to force your wrist upwards to rub, and rub, and soothe yourself but you beat it back. You're safe. You're with them.

Instinct drives you to the kitchen. You think you might be hungry, and if not, you will be. You probably need to put some things together, prep all the stuff you bought at the grocery anyway. Like you already knew, your trip earlier this week resulted in extra vegetables and fruit, your heat necessities, and you wash them robotically in the sink as the kettle heats, moving them all to the cutting board for the next step.

Your mind wanders as you slice, and you try to keep yourself on track, thinking about your life now, versus your life then, trying to stay present, keep a grip on yourself. You cannot have a repeat of last time. Not now. Dangerous thoughts grow in your subconscious, fear and doubt filtering through to the forefront of your mind.

Are you sure they even want an omega? Are you sure they don't find heats disgusting? Are you sure this is what they want?

"Darling?"

Why do you think they always spent their ruts together? Why didn't you ever tell them about the suppressants or your past, until you absolutely had to?

"Darling."

They're going to think you're pathetic. A pathetic omega who cannot control herself. Desperate to be bred, to be fucked. Disgusting.

"Darling!" Simon's shout jolts you, and the knife clatters against the countertop, freed from your hand that is now being held in another one, much larger. "Hey, you with me?" He ducks down to look at your eyes, but you can't look up. The room smells, like you, like heat, like panic, and you whimper involuntarily, heart thundering beneath your rib cage. "Alright, you're alright." He starts a rumble, harmonics that vibrate deep from his chest, and then pulls you into his arms, where you bury your face in his chest immediately.

"I'm sss-orry."

"Shhh."

"I don't think I- I- can do this." You cry. You're sobbing, wetting his shirt, your skin, and he picks you up like a feather, carrying you to bed and laying you gracefully back in your spot, between him and Johnny.

You cover your face with your hands, and Johnny matches Simon's purr with his own, emitting a honey sweet calming scent.

"What can't you do, darling?"

"My heat. I can't- I don't want it." You hiccup, breathing shallow, and look at both of them with wide eyes. "Please, can we c-call my doctor and see if, there's something-"

"Darling, no." Johnny hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. "It's alright, we're with ye now." You shake your head in denial, and then before you can stop, your wrist comes to your gland... rubbing. It happens for a second, maybe two, before Simon plucks it free and replaces it with his own. You try to protest, but you cramp, body curling in on itself, the pain making everything worse, slick starting to leak down your thighs. You whimper, hand trying to snake down between your legs, desperate to tuck your fingers into your cunt for some form of relief, body and hindbrain screaming at you to find something, your mates, anything-

"We're here." Simon coos. "Right here. We've got you. We're going to take care of you, I promise."

[soapsbaby]

Goodbyes

Summary: How you and your CoD partner would spend the last day and night before they have to go off on a mission.

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: SFW Themes: Angst, sadness, softness, no warnings needed Word count: 1300ish

Ghost

He’ll try to push you away, as if that would make it easier for both of you.

Once he can tell that he just makes you upset, he apologizes and makes sure the two of you get to do whatever you want to, usually you prefer to just get takeout with him, stay in bed and cuddle.

To him it’d be easier to not do that, it makes him miss you even more, but he does it for your sake. He knows that if something bad happens to him that you’ll be the one who suffers most, so he makes sure your feelings are prioritized.

He makes sure to say goodbye to you at night so he doesn’t have to wake you up in the morning and make leaving even harder on his part. He tries to be stoic about it but he hates every second of it, especially if you fall asleep on top of him and he has to gently shove you off and then just leave you behind.

Soap

He will absolutely not leave your side at all, trying to make the most out of your last hours together. No matter where you go, he’ll have a hand around your waist, is constantly kissing you and showering you in affection.

He tries his very best to be as cheerful as possible even though it’s hard, but he hates seeing you worried or sad. 

Before he leaves in the morning he makes sure he has something prepared for you, he puts flowers in the kitchen for you to find, notes on the mirror. You’ll also almost always wake up to a voice message on your phone by him, telling you that he loves you and that he’ll be back as soon as possible and there’s always a suggestion on what you will do, whether he wants to take you to a fancy restaurant he heard about or some nice café.

König

He gets quiet. His anxiety almost always tells him that something terrible will happen to either you or him once he leaves and the thoughts slowly drive him insane until he leaves and his brain switches into work-mode.

Even though he doesn’t really talk to you about it, you can tell that it bothers him and so usually you are the one trying your best to cheer him up. It also helps when you plan things you will do after he comes back and not even let the possibility that he might get hurt become an option. Oh, it’ll be just a week until you’re back, I might as well book the cinema tickets right now, right? 

He has a hard time expressing it, but he is eternally grateful for how casual you are on the outside even though you are of course freaking out as well. His job is really, really dangerous and him not coming back is always unfortunately a possibility.

He'll cuddle you to sleep and kiss you in the mornings, softly telling you that he loves you.

Price

He always makes sure to treat you to a nice dinner before he leaves, to leave a good impression, as he puts it. This can mean that you go to a nice, upscale restaurant, but he also loves cooking at home for you. He loves providing for you in general but the days before missions are the ones where he goes all out, going to the market for the fanciest ingredients and making sure you have an appetizer, main course, dessert and whichever expensive wine fits the meal the most.

He’s usually in good spirits before missions and not too worried about his wellbeing which rubs off on you. He is confident that nothing will happen, so you are too. 

You get up with him so you can have an early breakfast and spend some time talking before he has to leave.

Gaz

It hits him so much harder than it hits you. Not even because he is afraid that something will happen to him when he’s gone, just because he hates being apart from you for so long. 

If he got his way you’d just spend all day in bed, his face buried against your chest and rubbing his back but you usually try to at least get him out of the house a little bit, go for a walk or grab a coffee somewhere.

He is always affectionate but those days you won’t be able to get rid of him, not that you want to. He just needs as much reassurance as you can give him.

He really struggles getting out of bed in the morning, usually he’ll roll over to you again and kiss you awake, telling you he doesn’t want to leave and how much rather he’d stay with you. It doesn’t matter whether he has to leave earlier than you, usually you`ll get ready with him, giving him as many hugs and kisses in the process and sending him off with a smile. He doesn't have to know that you break down once he has left.

Rudy

The day before is always reserved for a family party, a barbecue or some other get together. He goes away often so not his entire family will come over every time but there’ll always be someone there. His family is incredibly important to him and he also feels much more secure knowing that you have a good relationship with them so you are taken care of if something were to happen to him. 

Once it becomes evening, though, he will make sure that he can focus on you and you only. Usually you won’t do anything “special” but he makes sure to take his time to talk to you, to make sure you are alright and that there is nothing on your mind that you are not telling him. There is nothing more important to him than clear communication and making sure he is on good terms with all of the people he loves before leaving for a mission.

You’ll fall asleep in his arms and wake up the same way, he would never leave before saying goodbye to you. Usually you’re still sleepy and he’ll kiss you goodbye, tuck you back in and let you keep sleeping.

Alejandro

He tries his very best to be as casual before missions as he can, going through his regular schedule and not to make too big of a deal out of it, but you can tell that he is giving you more affection than usual, being a little more touchy and telling you how much he loves you even more than he does otherwise. 

He’ll make sure that everything is taken care of before he’s gone, taking you grocery shopping before and stocking up on everything that you might need. He also makes sure you pick up extra on some items to make the time easier for yourself, a good book, some snacks, maybe a bottle of wine. 

He is a true romantic at heart but he keeps the special dates and occasions away from your last days, it feels like bad karma otherwise.

He’ll make sure you are comfortable getting to sleep and that he has told you a million times that he adores you, that he’ll be back so soon and that you don’t have to worry one bit.

Valeria

She tries so, so very hard not to show it, but she is terrified every time she leaves that it will be the last time she gets to see you. Hell, she might not even get hurt but she might get caught and go to jail for the rest of her life.

She always makes sure that she has her affairs in order before she leaves, makes sure that you have access to everything you need so you can get away safely and not be punished for your connection to her. 

She’ll be extra affectionate, making sure that you know that she loves you and also making a point that she would never be mad at you for denying any connection you have to her if she gets into legal trouble. 

She treats every goodbye like it might be your last one, kissing you like she never gets to again and spending the entire night holding you.