#kyle gaz garrick/paul jackson

[fixfoxnox]

Break Out (Gaz/Jackson)

More Gaz week content! The NSFW day 1 prompt was Monster, so I, naturally, took the opportunity to write Gaz getting railed by a monster version of Jackson. Enjoy!

Warnings: Biting, Tentacles, Smut, slight dub-con, slight size difference thing, marking/possessiveness

Word Count: 6.9k

“Well, well, look who's late once again.”

Gaz pushed past Soap to swipe his card through the reader, officially clocking in for the day, “Fuck off, traffic was terrible this morning.” He sighed and tossed his bag down on one of the benches before quickly digging into his locker. “I’m sure you were late too,” he joked while pulling on his lab coat and special lanyard.

“I am never late,” Soap turned his nose up at him, “I arrive exactly when I want to.”

Gaz snorted and slammed his locker shut, “Sure, bud. Try telling that to Price, I’m sure he’d love that one.” He looked Soap up and down for a moment, “Why are you still in here, by the way? Shouldn’t you be on the floor?”

“Nope,” Soap popped up from his seat and gave a big stretch, “Shepherd wants to try Jackson today, which means we were all waiting on you to show up.” 

Gaz could feel his face flush and he was quick to push past Soap, grumbling under his breath as he did, “There was no point in waiting for me.” He started down one of the long lab hallways toward the safety entrance for the lab around Jackson’s enclosure. 

“Please,” Soap was quick to catch up and match his pace, walking right beside him as they talked, “We both know that the only reason that creature behaves so well half the time is because of you. You’ve got some weird relationship going on with him.” 

“I don’t have a weird relationship,” Gaz was quick to argue back, “he just likes me because I’m not a dick like Shepherd. I advocate for him.” He stopped in front of the door to the lab and pulled his keycard out again, “Should we talk about your relationship with the mated creatures down the hall.”

Soap’s face went a bright red, “My relationship with Ghost and Roach is nothing like this!”

“Sure,” Gaz swiped his card and pushed into the small lab where most of the team was waiting, Soap followed after him. None of them had dared to go into the small lab yet and, though Gaz disagreed with Soap, he understood why. The last time they’d tried to run a day on Jackson without Gaz present and the creature had thrown a fit. They’d all been amazed that the glass of his enclosure had managed to hold up against the assault he’d hit it with. 

“There you are, about time you showed up!” General Shepherd was the government supervisor for their little organization. Gaz hated his guts. The man was constantly overstepping and always more than willing to hurt the subjects brought into the lab. He had no consideration for the fact that these were living breathing creatures and he only agreed to call them by the names they’d been given so he could differentiate between them when talking. He only saw the lab as a way to develop weapons for his little military exploits. Gaz hated to say it, but there certainly had been numerous times that he’d dreamt of one of the creatures escaping just to take care of the man. Though he knew that would never work out in a way that he liked. 

“Apologies, General,” he responded quickly, “Traffic kept me busy. If we’re ready to go inside?” He motioned to the door with his hand, trying to avoid getting an earful of nonsense from the man. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like they could fire him. The fact that they were all waiting outside the lab for him just proved it. 

Shepherd seemed more than annoyed with him, but he didn’t do anything other than glare and shove past him to open the lab door and push his way inside. Gaz received a short smile from Price, a sort of quick greeting for the two until they could talk later, before he was motioned inside. He followed after Shepherd and the rest of the scientists, assistants, and, caretakers followed after him. 

The room was large and open with one-half of it converted into a large lab with cameras, data readers, computers, and much more. Practically anything their team would need could be found inside. The other half of the room had been converted into an enclosure for the creature. Gaz had personally designed and changed it over the creature’s stay, making sure that it was exactly what Jackson would need and be comfortable with. 

This half was transformed into a deep fake wooded area. The lights in the enclosure were kept dim at practically all times and there were a number of places where Jackson could hide. The biggest and most often used one was a little cave at the very back of the enclosure. The only time the lights were ever turned fully on were times like these when Shepherd insisted on being able to see Jackson perfectly as they ran their tests and conducted their research. Gaz had tried numerous times for at least dim lighting, but he’d continued to be overruled, much to his annoyance.  

While all of the scientists went to their stations and prepared for the day, Gaz moved toward the glass. He didn’t need any papers or pens, after all, he was just there as an aid. That’s what the caretakers were meant to do. Build a relationship with the creatures and aid the scientists in conducting their tests. He hated it sometimes, but at least the scientists were nice. They weren’t doing any of this for the same reasons as Shepherd, they were doing it for the sake of their own curiosity and intrigue. 

Peering inside the, now fully lit, enclosure told Gaz that Jackson was likely tucked back in his little cave to stretch himself out. Gaz didn’t call for him yet, he just stood by the glass, waiting for a command. He would let Jackson rest as long as he could. 

After several moments of idle chatter and moving around, it seemed that many of the scientists were finally ready to begin. “Alright Gaz,” the head scientist of the unit called out to him, “See if you can get him out here for us.” 

Gaz gave a short nod before turning toward the glass enclosure and stepping closer to it. He was quick to lift his hand and give two good taps to the glass. He waited a long moment, letting the noise vibrate around the room. The entire lab was silent, just waiting and letting him do what was needed. After a long moment, Gaz could see as two glowing white dots emerged from the darkness of the cave. He could very slightly make out the outline of Jackson’s body thanks to the full lights in the room. 

“Jackson,” he called out kindly, tilting his head at the eyes, “Would you come out, please?” There was another long moment of silence, but he never took his eyes away from Jackson’s. He knew how much the creature liked it when he looked at him. 

Finally, ever so slowly, Jackson emerged from his cave and into the light. Despite his strength and power, despite the fact that so many of the scientists were deathly afraid of him, and despite the fact that Gaz knew there was more to him than could be seen, Jackson didn’t look intimidating. He looked human. Like a regular person that you’d see walking past you on the street. It was somehow far more terrifying than if Jackson did look like some of the other creatures in the facility. 

Jackson walked all the way up to the glass and made a point to stop right in front of Gaz. His face was fixed into something surprisingly soft and Gaz found himself looking away, embarrassment and heat flooding down his spine as he felt Jackson’s eyes excitedly moving over his face. He cleared his throat nervously before giving the creature a small smile, “Thank you, Jackson. I appreciate your participation.” He turned back toward the scientists then, waiting for their first request of the day. 

“We’d like a chance to observe at least one of his other limbs in detail,” One of the scientists at the corner called out. “If you could get him to bring it out and hold it close to the glass, we would be grateful.”

Gaz nodded to them and turned back to Jackson. He found that the creature’s eyes were still locked onto him and he resisted the urge to shiver under the other’s gaze. It was that same soft look that he wore every day, and yet Gaz had never gotten used to it. He cleared his throat nervously, “Jackson, would you be willing to let us look at one of your, um, well, your tentacles? Up close?”

Jackson tilted his head at him, his lips quirking up a bit as though he was amused. Still, it wasn’t a moment later that there was a sort of wet sound followed by the clothes that they’d given him shifting. A moment later and out slithered an inky black tentacle. The appendage almost shined in the light and Jackson was quick to move it around and hold it just in front of Gaz so that he could see it clearly. It was a dark black color and, upon closer inspection, Gaz could see that as he moved the appendage in the light, it was as though rainbows shined across the appendage. It reminded him distinctly of an oil slick. 

Jackson didn’t move, even as several scientists moved closer to the glass, gathering around Gaz to make quick sketches, take notes, and snap quick pictures of the appendage. Gaz didn’t mind, he just stood still and allowed the scientists to work. Jackson did the same, though he seemed far more focused on Gaz than the various scientists who were very clearly interested in him. 

It wasn’t until one of the scientists accidentally bumped into Gaz, sending him stumbling forward that Jackson tore his gaze away from him. It moved immediately toward the scientist who’d bumped him and his gaze shifted from the softness that had covered it to something sharper. The guttural growl that tore from his throat sent many of the scientists scrambling away from the glass and, when Jackson’s tentacle slammed against the glass and rattled it in its hold, screams erupted from the room. 

Gaz was quick to act, slamming his hand against the glass with a strength that was sure to get Jackson’s attention. Sure enough, the man’s gaze turned toward him. As soon as he saw him he softened and he immediately moved toward where Gaz had his hand pressed against the smooth surface. Jackson practically pressed himself flat against the glass and took care to gently place his hand in the exact same place as Gaz’s.

Within a few moments, it was clear to everyone that Jackson was calm again. That meant that once again, Gaz found himself surrounded by curious scientists. The only difference was that this time they all kept a healthy distance away from him, worried about potentially bumping him and setting Jackson off again. Gaz stayed in his place, his hand pressed against the glass. Jackson seemed more than content with the placement, his own hand staying just where it was on the other side of the glass. 

Gaz noticed that the creature wasn’t looking at him now, but was rather observing their hands with a sense of wonder on his face. Gaz didn’t have small hands by any means, but Jackson was a creature beyond anything that he was sure he could ever understand. It was no surprise to him that the creature’s hands dwarfed his own, after all, Jackson was at least a good foot and a half taller than him. 

Despite this, Jackson was fixated on the sight for several minutes, just observing the way that his hand fit next to Gaz’s. When, finally, he looked back up to his face his entire demeanor had changed. Gone was the softness that Gaz was used to seeing and, in its place was something much darker. There was a look in Jackson’s eyes that Gaz couldn’t quite place, but it sent a shiver down his spine and a flush of heat through his system. 

Jackson’s gaze didn’t change for the rest of the session and even as Gaz and the others were leaving the room, the lights dimming behind them, Gaz could feel the creature’s eyes piercing into his back. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew that it couldn’t spell anything good for him. 

It was around lunch when the alarms in the facility started going off. As was procedure when things like this happened, Gaz and the others immediately moved into a safe room as the security ran around the facility, trying to figure out what was wrong and what would need to be done to make things safe again. Gaz doubted it was an actual break out, nothing like that had ever happened at the facility before.

More likely than anything was that one of the creatures had damaged their enclosure in some way and set off the alarms around the base. It was part of the reason why he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when a knock came on the safe room door with Shepherd calling for him to come out. 

He gave a deep sigh, knowing that what had likely happened was that Jackson had damaged his enclosure in some way earlier in the day when he’d been shoved. He didn’t mind too much, he often found himself working on quick repairs to Jackson’s enclosure for one reason or another. It would be an easy fix. 

When he pushed his way out of the safe room, the door snapping shut behind him with an air of finality, something felt different. Shepherd’s face was more serious this time and a number of the security guards looked scared shitless. Perhaps the fix wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. 

“Shepherd,” he acknowledged carefully, “what’s going on?” 

“It’s Jackson,” Shepherd crossed his arms over his chest, “We need your help.”

“Did something happen with his space?” Gaz asked carefully, trying to get a bit more information from the man, “If you tell me what happened I can tell you what I’ll need to fix it. Surely it can’t be that bad?”

There was a long pause. Shepherd shared a glance with the head of the lab’s security and Gaz tensed up at the looks on their faces. That wasn’t good. Something big had apparently happened. 

“It’s better if you see for yourself,” Shepherd landed on finally. He motioned for Gaz to follow him and set off down the hallway, leaving him with no choice but to make his way down the hallway after him. 

As soon as they stepped into the safety room that was connected to the lab and Jackson’s enclosure, Gaz knew that something bad had happened. 

The entire room was in disarray. It looked as though an earthquake had shaken the room. Shelves had fallen, tools were dropped to the ground, and glass was broken along the floor. But what really worried Gaz were the cameras. Each of the labs and connecting enclosures were covered with cameras to allow the security team to monitor everything without disturbing the creatures. Each of the cameras was behind a thick casing of bulletproof glass. The same casing that made up part of the glass blocking the creatures into their enclosures. Every single camera in Jackson’s enclosure had clearly had something happen to it. Rather than showing a live feed of the other room, they only displayed static. 

Gaz sent a questioning look toward Shepherd. Shepherd straightened up and met his eyes before admitting, “Jackson has broken out of his enclosure.” 

“What?” Gaz’s mouth fell open in shock and he had to lean against a nearby counter for support. This was not good. Not good in the slightest. “Wait, wait, if Jackson broke out of his enclosure,” he looked around the room nervously, spotting the two security members who were now blocking his only way out of the room, “what do you need me for?”

“You’re the only person who Jackson responds positively to,” Shepherd stated quickly, “we want you to go inside and convince him back into his cave. Once he’s in there we can activate the backup casing to hold him until the glass can be restored.”

“You’re crazy,” Gaz backed away from Shepherd quickly, “fucking nuts! I am not going in there!”

“It’s your job,” Shepherd told him quickly, his eyes glaring harshly into him, “You’ll do your job.”

“My job,” Gaz responded easily, “Is to help take care of the creatures while they are in their enclosures! Not to get them into the enclosures. That’s your job!” He pushed toward the two men at the door but was quickly shoved back away. “Let me out.” 

Suddenly, both of the men at the door rushed forward and seized his arms, holding him tight even as he struggled. He was dragged across the room and it didn’t take him long to realize where they were taking him. He tried to struggle harder, but it did nothing for him as the two men stopped in front of the door to Jackson’s enclosure. 

He could hear someone swiping their card for the room, but his attention was taken quickly by Shepherd. “Do your job, Garrick.” The man turned his nose up at him, “We won’t let you out until Jackson’s back in his cage. Let’s hope that that thing likes you enough to listen.” 

With that, the door was thrown open and Gaz was thrown into the dim room. He was scrambling back up as quickly as he could, but it was too late and he only managed to slam himself into the metal door. He slammed his fists against it several times, screaming every obscenity that he could think of toward Shepherd. 

He should have known not to be loud, that was what always got Jackson’s attention. Still, he wasn’t thinking clearly. Panic was building in him and it only seemed to increase when he felt something wrap carefully around his ankle. He only had enough time to look down and spot the inky black of a tentacle wrapped around him before the limb yanked and sent him tumbling to the ground. 

To his surprise, the fall didn’t hurt in the slightest and it only took a moment to realize that was because there were three other tentacles under him, cushioning his body. He only had a moment to realize this before he was moved across the floor, dragged halfway across the room in only a short moment. When he finally stopped moving, he found himself looking up at Jackson. 

The creature was hovering over him and Gaz could feel the four tentacles that had been wrapped around him move carefully away to wriggle around in the air behind Jackson. Like this, he could see the light reflecting off of them, giving them that oil-slick look once again. Jackson wasn’t moving, he was just standing over Gaz, looking down at him carefully. That same dark look from earlier was still in his eyes. 

“Jackson,” Gaz started to slowly push himself from the ground, but he was quickly pinned down with a tentacle. He took in several deep breaths to try and calm himself. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but what he did know was that he should at least try something. Even if it didn’t work, at least he’d tried. “Jackson, the others are worried,” he spoke carefully, keeping his voice soft and his face clear of any panic he felt, “Why don’t you go back into your cave for a bit so we can clean things up?” He looked around at the destroyed and torn-apart room, “This isn’t exactly the nicest thing to look at, is it?” 

Of course, there was no response from the creature above him, just more staring. Gaz wasn’t quite sure what to do. There was no way that he was going to be able to break out of Jackson’s hold or get away from him. He was completely at the creature’s mercy and he had no idea what the other wanted from him. 

“Jackson,” he started again carefully, “Please. Let me-” 

He interrupted his own words with a gasp, his entire face going bright red as the tentacle on his chest started moving, trailing down his body and just brushing over his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. 

“Jackson,” he moved to sit up again only to be pinned back down to the ground, this time with another tentacle wrapped around his wrists, holding them together tight. The tentacle on his chest continued moving down until it could slip under his shirt and begin trailing back up his skin. 

Gaz felt hot with the contact, embarrassment and something else running through him. He looked back up to Jackson and was surprised to see that he could suddenly very clearly read that dark look on the creature’s face. Hunger. Lust. Love. 

Another shiver went down his spine and he was helpless to move as the tentacle against his skin finally met his nipples once again. It moved around his chest carefully for several moments, just sliding along the skin before brushing carefully, almost teasingly, over one of them. A moment later and it had brushed over the other. Gaz resisted the urge to groan at the contact, little sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. He bit his lip instead, squirming a bit in Jackson’s grip. That seemed to be the wrong thing to do as, a moment later, there was another tentacle wrapping around his waist to hold him in place.

The tentacle at his chest grew bolder quickly, carefully flicking over one of his nipples. Soon there was another tentacle pushing its way under his shirt and joining the other in teasing his chest. This one was a bit meaner it seemed, pinching and squeezing at his nipple rather than the simple rubbing and flicking the other was doing. 

The sensations were driving Gaz crazy and it wasn’t long before he was a panting mess, still trying desperately to squirm in the tight hold of Jackson’s tentacles. Whether he was trying to move into the touch or away from it, he wasn’t sure. He just managed to keep his eyes focused on Jackson above him. He could see the way that the creature was flushed from watching him and he’d rather quickly noticed the growing hardness in the clothes that he wore. 

After several moments, the tentacle around his wrists suddenly moved away. Gaz understood why when, a moment later, the tentacles playing with his nipples were moving to strip him of his shirt. “Woah, hold on,” he tried to fight against the movement but, despite his best effort, he soon found himself shirtless. A tentacle wrapped around his wrists again, pinning them back to the ground above his head. “Jackson,” he called nervously, the flush on his skin only growing stronger as he was exposed to the creature’s eyes. 

To his surprise, a groan pulled from Jackson’s throat. It was something deep and low and the sound of it seemed to lay over his skin like a heated blanket. He liked the sound of it more than he wanted to admit. 

He yelped a bit when the creature rather suddenly dropped down, straddling his waist. Their hips pressed together and Gaz couldn’t help the groan that pulled from his throat when Jackson’s hardness ground against him at the move. The sound had a slight smile tugging at Jackson’s lips, but Gaz only got a short look at it before he was ducking down to latch his mouth onto one of his nipples, sucking and licking at it as one of his tentacles played with the other.

“Jackson,” he gasped as he felt hands begin trailing over his waist, feeling carefully over the skin. To his surprise, the creature’s touch was kind, kind and almost reverent in its movement. It was like he couldn’t believe that he was actually touching Gaz. The only noises from the man were content and happy little sighs along with the occasional groan when he would accidentally grind his hips down against Gaz’s. 

Jackson’s teeth were just sharp enough for Gaz to notice as they brushed along his nipple, the slight movement caused him to arch up into the creature’s touch. Jackson only hummed at the move before slowly trailing his mouth up his chest, one of his tentacles quickly taking his mouth's place to continue teasing at his chest. His mouth inched higher and higher until he was sucking at the spot where Gaz’s neck met his shoulder. 

Gaz found himself tilting his head to provide more room for Jackson, allowing the creature to press careful kisses against the skin. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, he knew that he should be fighting harder against the hands and tentacles that seemed so determined to pull pleasure from his body, but he just couldn’t help himself. Jackson was sweet, he’d always been sweet to him and, Gaz had to admit, he didn’t exactly mind what was happening. Would it have been better if he was in a bed rather than the destroyed remnants of a lab? Probably. Was he still going to enjoy himself? Based on the way that Jackson’s hips were moving against his, he would say yes. 

Jackson’s mouth continued to work at his neck, sucking and kissing along the expanse of it as he moved higher and higher. Occasionally he would give just a little nip to the skin, but he was quick to soothe that over with his tongue and several kisses. Eventually, he made his way to Gaz’s jaw, then his chin, before finally, he pressed their lips together. The happy little moan that escaped Jackson when Gaz pressed into the kiss was enough to have his chest feeling warm.

The kiss started with only a few short pecks, but quickly grew into long presses and soon Jackson was opening Gaz’s lips with his tongue so that he could lick happily into his mouth. It all meant that Gaz was distracted enough to hardly notice as Jackson’s hands slid down his skin to begin undoing the top of his pants with surprisingly clever fingers. His attention was brought fully to the movement when another two tentacles began working Gaz’s pants and underwear down his legs in slow careful movements. He was beginning to wonder just how many of the things Jackson had. 

Soon enough, he found himself fully naked under the creature’s touch. He pulled away from Jackson’s lips as best he could, not that Jackson seemed to mind as he just returned his mouth to kiss along his neck. “Jackson,” Gaz started desperately, “You-”

Jackson’s hand wrapping carefully around his hardening cock pulled a desperate moan from him and his hips jerked up into the touch. No tentacle came to stop this movement and, instead, Jackson seemed to encourage it, groaning happily into his neck every time his hips moved. “Oh, fuck,” Gaz groaned out as Jackson started to slowly work his hand up and down Gaz’s cock, stroking him with slow tight movements of his wrist. 

“Jackson,” he gasped desperately at the pleasure that was slowly curing his toes and filling his body, “Please, god, please take- oh your clothes, take your clothes off.” Jackson paused against his neck. His hand and tentacles were still moving around his body, taking pleasure from him, but his mouth had stopped and his head had tilted to the side, as though he was trying to decipher what Gaz had said. 

After a long moment, he finally pulled away from him, a small smile tugging at his lips. He moved his hand away from Gaz’s cock, but it was quickly replaced by one of his tentacles. The tentacle was much slimier than Gaz remembered it being and, distantly, his scientific mind wondered if perhaps it was secreting something due to Jackson’s arousal. It didn’t really matter, all that really mattered was that the slide felt phenomenal against his cock. His mouth fell open and he could only manage to pant desperately as it wrapped around him and started jerking him off at a much faster pace than Jackson’s hand had been moving. He wondered if the increase in speed was because of excitement. 

That would certainly make sense considering the way that Jackson practically tore at his clothes to get them off. His shirt was ripped from his body and tossed away quickly. Next came his pants. He was forced to stand up to take those off and, even through his arousal Gaz couldn’t stop the amusement that flooded him at the way that Jackson huffed at having to move so far away from him. His pants and underwear were quickly kicked away as well. 

As soon as Gaz got a good look at Jackson naked he couldn’t help but groan. The creature was gorgeous and fucking big in more ways than one. With just one look Gaz could tell that the other was going to stretch him open quite nicely and just the thought of it had another moan pulling from his throat. 

Jackson was back on the ground in a second, this time between Gaz’s thighs. He was pressed close enough that Gaz could feel his hard cock pressed against his thigh, rutting against him just slightly. Jackson was quick to bat the tentacle away from Gaz’s cock in favor of replacing it with his own hand, once again resuming his slow tight pace. Now he allowed his thumb to run over the head of Gaz’s cock, stroking along his slit in a move that had him tossing his head back with a whine. 

The tentacle that had been wrapped around his cock didn’t move fully away, instead, it started to carefully trail down his thigh until, eventually, it could begin to slip between his cheeks to start prodding at his hole. He groaned at the feeling of the slippery appendance slowly prodding at him. It was circling him, teasing with little presses or just the tip of it slipping inside of him. “Jackson,” Gaz let his head fall back to the ground with a groan, his entire body lit up with pleasure from the tentacles touching all over him and the warm hand stroking his cock, “Please, oh fuck, please don’t tease.” 

He gaped as the tip of the tentacle finally pressed inside of him, desperate pants leaving his throat as it started to move in slow thrusts, pressing deeper inside of him with every move. Jackson leaned down to kiss and nip at his hips as his tentacle started stretching him open, Gaz could feel the creature’s grin against his skin. “Yes,” he managed to moan out at the thick slide, “yes, yes, yes, keep- oh fuck, keep going!”

The tentacle pressed inside of him started to pick up its speed, thrusting in and out of him at a much quicker pace, pressing against his walls. Gaz could have sworn he felt it thicken inside of him and just that feeling alone nearly had him spilling over Jackson’s hand. The pleasure of it was all too much and he could feel whatever slick was coating the tentacle begin to build up more, spilling and slicking his thighs. 

After several moments, the tentacle shifted and pressed further inside of him, hitting harder and pulling a high whine from Gaz’s throat as it bumped against his prostate. He could feel Jackson’s mouth pause against his skin again before suddenly the tentacle inside of him was hitting that spot again and again. Gaz could only gasp and moan and take the pleasure that was hitting him in continuous waves. 

It was all too good and all too overwhelming for him, so it was no surprise that when Jackson switched from pounding into him with the tentacle to massaging it against his prostate, he couldn’t last much longer. Only a few quick strokes of the hand against his cock and he was coming, spilling over Jackson’s hand as pleasure shook his body and hazed over his mind completely. 

He came down from the feeling slowly and, though the tentacles against his skin had ceased their movements, he couldn’t help but whine as he felt Jackson’s tongue lapping at his spent cock, cleaning the cum from his cock and belly with his tongue. “Jackson,” Gaz was completely out of breath and he tugged helplessly at the tentacles around his wrist as the creature continued his treatment over him. “Please, fuck, just wait,” he gasped again as the tentacles over his skin began to move again slowly and carefully touching him. Similarly, the tentacle inside of him started to slowly move again, still hitting his prostate with every slide. “Wait- oh, oh fuck.” 

He found himself being slowly worked back up, this time with a mouth around his cock rather than a hand. Despite the fact that he’d just come, it didn’t take Jackson any longer than five or so minutes to work him back up into a hard whining mess under his touch. 

The tongue against his cock was clever and Gaz couldn’t help but thrust up into the waiting heat, whining at the feeling of Jackson slowly but harshly sucking at him. Jackson’s hands took to holding his legs open wide, allowing the tentacle inside of him to hit just right with every thrust. 

Then, just as suddenly as they’d started, everything stopped. All of the tentacles slowly retreated from his skin and Jackson was quick to pull his mouth away from Gaz’s cock with a pop. Gaz gave a whine of disappointment, but that was quickly cut off when Jackson used his grip on his thighs to flip him to his hands and knees, a low growl escaping his throat. 

Gaz groaned at the change in position, the feeling of Jackson’s hard cock pressed against his backside making him feel hazy once again. He rocked back against Jackson’s cock, pulling a groan from the creature behind him. The tentacles started to crawl over his skin again, wrapping around him and tugging him back further against Jackson’s cock. Two of them wrapped around his thighs, pulling them further apart, and one wrapped carefully around his cock again, pulling a groan from him. 

Jackson was gentle as he spread him open, fingering at his still-slicked hole for several teasing moments. He seemed to enjoy the desperate noises that it pulled from Gaz’s lips. Finally, though, after several minutes of teasing he pressed the head of his cock against Gaz’s hole. 

With one quick and small thrust, he slipped the head of his cock inside of him, pulling a desperate groan from both of them. “Oh fuck,” Gaz gave a long moan as Jackson started to slowly press inside of him, stretching him just a bit more than the tentacle had. Just enough for him to feel it. “Fuck, Jackson, oh- oh god you feel so fucking good!” 

Jackson gave only a small grunt at his words, his mouth latching onto Gaz’s shoulder with a quick groan as their hips finally met, all of him buried inside of Gaz. He stayed that way for several moments, pressing sweet kisses to his shoulder. As much as Gaz enjoyed it, he clearly knew why the creature was doing it. He was trying to comfort him in some way, trying to offer him something because he, very clearly, didn’t think Gaz was able to easily take him. 

Gaz couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the thought. Sure, Jackson was big, but he’d prepared him well enough. What Gaz wanted, desperately, was for the creature to start moving and actually take care of the buzz that had formed under his skin. The arousal that he’d caused. “Please,” he gave a little sigh, “move, please move.” Jackson didn’t listen, he just kept kissing and licking at the skin of his throat. “Jackson,” he groaned, trying again, “Please, god please move.” Again, nothing. Finally, desperate for some sort of stimulation from the man, he whined, “Jackson, please, I thought you were going to fuck me? I can take it!” He paused before adding teasingly to the end, “If you don’t want to fuck me, I’ll find someone who does.” 

The mouth on his neck froze. All of the tentacles moving across him froze. He could feel the creature behind him tense and, for a moment, he wondered if he said the wrong thing. That thought left his mind when hands tightened harshly on his hips and a snarl pulled from Jackson’s throat. 

In the next moment, Jackson was pulling slowly out of him. He moved until there was only a small portion of his cock still inside of him before he slammed back in, his hips slapping against Gaz’s as he perfectly nailed his prostate once again. Gaz jumped at the sensation, a delighted moan pulling from his throat as Jackson set a bruising pace, fucking into him quickly and nailing his prostate with every thrust. 

The tentacles against him were moving again as well, stroking over him quickly and tightly, leaving their mark in slick across his skin. All sorts of noises fell from Gaz’s lips, moans of Jackson's names and pleas for “more” and “harder” all of which Jackson gladly answered. The pleasure flowing through him was overwhelming. It shook his legs and curled in his gut and numbed his brain until all he could think about was the hard cock pounding into him and the slick tentacles stroking along his skin and covering every inch of him. 

Jackson was a growling and snarling mess against him, groaning and grunting and sounding absolutely feral as he fucked him harder and harder, increasing his pace to something that Gaz knew no regular human would be able to keep up for so long. His tongue was still tracing along the skin of his shoulder, but now Gaz could feel his teeth scraping after it and pressing just so against his skin, just enough that he could feel it. Gaz wondered what it would take to get him to bite. 

It wasn’t long before Gaz found himself a whining moaning mess, his hips moving desperately with Jackson’s thrusts as he chased the rising pleasure inside of him toward that high that he so desperately craved. Jackson seemed to be close as well based on the way that his hips began to stutter slightly and his noises grew more and more wild and more and more desperate. 

It only took the tentacle on his cock moving to rub over his slit for Gaz to come again, pleasure pouring over him in waves as his entire body went weak in Jackson’s hold. The feeling of the creature still pounding into him was so overwhelming but so good as he worked through his orgasm. Gasps and pants and a desperate call of Jackson’s name slipped from his lips. 

Jackson moved quicker and quicker, the groans, grunts, and growls slipping from his lips becoming more and more animalistic as he continued fucking into Gaz, taking everything that he could with desperate movements. His teeth dug into his neck more and Gaz was beginning to feel a bit too overstimulated by his continued attention. “Jackson,” he groaned out, his voice weak from the noises that had been forced from him, “please, want to feel you,” he gasped as the teeth at his neck clenched down tighter. “Please, please, want you to fill me up, want to feel you inside of me! Fuck, give it to me! Make me yours!”

With those simple words, Jackson was biting hard onto his neck, breaking skin just slightly as his hips stuttered once then twice before he finally spilled inside of Gaz. He continued fucking into him for several moments, his cum slowly dripping out around his cock. Gaz couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of the creature lapping at his bleeding neck as his hips slowly stopped.

Many of the tentacles against his skin retreated, but several of them stuck around to help slowly flip him to his back. They acted as cushions for him, keeping him from laying on the cold floor as Jackson leaned over him, pressing kisses all along his face. The creature’s cock was still buried deep inside of him and something told Gaz that he didn’t plan to move any time soon. 

Gaz took several moments to collect his thoughts, trying to get his head on straight despite that haze that continued to hang over him. There were several things running through his brain, things that he hadn’t been able to take into account when he was getting fucked silly by the man currently hovered over him. He had a rather embarrassing feeling blossoming in his chest that told him that he may have just accidentally become the creature’s mate if the way he was licking at his neck and happily soothing him was any indication. He decided rather quickly that it would be an issue for a later version of him. For now, there was something much simpler that he could try to deal with. 

“So,” he started carefully, bringing Jackson’s eyes to meet with his own curiously, “I’m guessing you don’t plan on going back into your enclosure.” 

A small, almost amused smile crossed Jackson's lips before he went back to licking and sucking at his neck. Gaz sighed, knowing that he’d just been given his answer. This was certainly going to be a very interesting next few hours for him. 

[fryingpan1234567]

listen I knowwww Roach should be British. he was on a British task force. he’s got the flag on his uniforms. but when @fixfoxnox said southerner Roach I just couldn’t not love him okay leave me alone

anyways. southerner Roach shenanigans

(I guess you could call this a Something in the Orange fanfic since he’s besties with Jackson in this scenario as well as dating Ghost and Soap……… but it’s general enough it’s probably fine ANYWAYS)

Roach’s accent, while it normally only lightly flavors a few of his words, gets considerably thicker when he’s visiting home

I mean like he does the thing southerners do where they somehow mash entire sentences into one word and the others are just like “……….what” but Jackson is nodding like he understood

Like. They’re all at dinner together somewhere. Somebody brings up the rodeo at the state fair. The Europeans have no idea what they’re talking about. Roach just goes “y’ain’tneverheardadat??” and Soap nearly has a stroke trying to figure out what he meant but Jackson continues to eat soundly like he didn’t hear anything wrong

COWBOY👏 HAT👏 RULE👏

HELP

No no no they go to some random dive bar for one of their birthdays. It doesn’t matter whose. Jackson and Roach both have cowboy hats because OBVIOUSLY and like. They exchange this look that the others can’t figure out whenever one of their boyfriends steals their hat via flirting

(They tell them later and then can’t stop laughing while Soap and Ghost and Gaz are just sitting there like uh oh)

After that the hat stealing is very much purposeful

Square dancing to fucking Timber by Kesha and Pitbull in said dive bar because that’s just required idk what to tell you

Soap and Ghost seeing Roach ride a horse for the first time and visibly bluescreen

Roach recognizing people from high school in his hometown even tho he hasn’t seen them in like 20 years

He likes Taylor Swift but only her old country-adjacent stuff

Ghost and Soap couldn’t figure out his aversion to any kind of substitute milk until he took them home and they found out it’s because he grew up drinking milk that literally came from the cows he has in his backyard. They own two cows. And a few chickens. Very resourceful

Jackson and Roach dragging the 141 to Roach’s family’s Super Bowl party one year because in the southern states it’s a huge fucking deal

The Europeans being like “………this is quite possibly one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen in my life” but their boys are having fun so it’s okay

God help the rest of them. Jackson and Roach are rooting for opposite teams.

There’s screaming, there’s wrestling on the living room floor, there’s spilling food and beer everywhere. The amount of rubbing it in after a touchdown lands is fucking crazy, and they’ve shouted about stabbing each other every single time

Eventually, maybe with a bit of googling, the others get into it. Soap hasn’t stopped shoving Mrs. Roach’s buffalo chicken dip in his face since he’d discovered it when they’d arrived, and Ghost was letting the kids use his tattoo like a coloring page while he chatted with Roach’s dad and brothers. Gaz kept getting elbowed in the ribs whenever Roach and Jackson tousled on the couch, and a couple times he was asked to hold Jackson’s beer so “I can kick some sense into this dipshit,” usually followed by Roach’s maniacal cackling. Price was banging around in the kitchen with Mrs. Roach. Nobody knew how he’d gotten dragged into that, but he seemed to be enjoying himself

On the topic of bringing the boys home to the fam oh my GODS thanksgiving

Ghost is not a dessert person. He’s never been a dessert person. But he had four slices of Mr. Roach’s apple pie, so,,,,,,,,, apparently he is actually a dessert person

Obvi Roach is good with all guns, but he was hunting with his dad and brothers by the time he was like six. He knows how to work a shotgun like he breathes

(Ahem being southern is why he’s so fucking stubborn btw if anyone was wondering)

Roach and Jackson both are religious Dolly Parton listeners

“DID U GUYS KNOW SHE WROTE JOLENE AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU ON THE SAME DAY—“

Ghost and Soap wake up one night because there’s a weird noise outside. They poke Roach awake like “???? what was that??” and he was just like “oh yeah the woods make noises sometimes. don’t worry about it. if something actually wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t hear it coming” and promptly passed back out

“Yea I’ve seen a skinwalker before” “FYM YOU’VE S E E N O N E ? “ “It was in my backyard?? Relax it just wanted the coyote that always tries to kill our chickens. I didn’t really mind”

Gaz suggests investigating a weird figure he saw in the woods. Roach laughs out loud and Jackson smacks him in the back of the head like “that’s how you fucking die you idiot”

“Y’all’re lucky we’re here to stop you from doing somethin’ stupid. Fuckin’ city slickers” “What did you just call me”

The deafening sounds of crickets and locusts puts Roach to sleep almost instantly every night. Ghost barely sleeps every time they visit.

”IT IS SO FUCKING LOUD IF ONE MORE BLOODY CRICKET—“ “Simon not everyone needs literal dead silence to sleep—“

No matter how many pillows he stacks on top of his head he can’t escape it

Oh. Oh. The Europeans CANNOT do southern heat. They’re passed out on the porch while Jackson and Roach and Roach’s brothers play football in the front yard

Roach makes killer lemonade and iced tea nobody talk to me

He has a rusty blue ancient pickup that he says is his baby. One of the wheels is misshapen and the bed squeaks dangerously every time they hit a pothole, but he won’t get rid of it EVER

Roach introduces Soap and Ghost to catching fireflies in jars with his nieces and nephews. They are. So in love with the concept.

It gets turned into a competition, because of course it does, and it looked like Ghost was going to win— but then the youngest of the participating children silently held up a jar that was too bright to look at and audibly buzzing from the amount of bugs inside of it. They cut their losses and embrace the fact that they’ll never be That Good

Southern👏 sunsets👏 there ain’t nothing like it

Soap has a sketchbook dedicated entirely to doodling Roach doing farm things

Roach had a horse he took care of in high school. Her name was Peaches and he literally cried when he found pictures of her in his room

Ghost LOVES the sweet old border collie Roach’s parents have. That dog has seen many a stampede, and he’s herded just as many. What a man. Ghost does not leave him alone Ever

gods fuck me bro I could literally talk about southern Roach F O R E V E R (idk if you can tell from the long ass post Jesus Christ)

good morning/ night/ 4am lmk if you want more of this

[meralasan]

Paul and Gaz

This was a LOVELY commision by the incredibly sweet @fixfoxnox. If you're in the mood for some seriously good CoD fanfiction, head over to his profile! Don't forget to give him all the love 😌

[fortheloveofkonig]

I finished MW: Remastered a couple of hours ago and planned to move straight on to MW2 (2009) but I'm so fucking distraught

My emotions are all over the place

And now I've got the idea in my mind that what if Ghost gets closer to Soap and Roach bc they both have very fucking difficult times with dying (Soap with being near death so many times in each game and Roach being...Roach.) and now I'm even more distraught.

Honestly didn't like original Gaz at first, he got on my nerves but like in a brotherly way. I fucking cried at the end man. And Griggs too? WHAT ABOUT OUR DRINKS? WE NEVER GOT TO STOP IN LONDON AND GET OUR FUCKING DRINKS 😭

Don't even get me started on the literal SCREAM I SCREAMT with Jackson. I was so attached man.

[awritessomething]

I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Pierre Gasly

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

David Rossi (preferably young)

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Sam Wilson

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks:

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Sports:

Joao Felix

Jude Bellingham

Brock Purdy

Leon Draisaitl

Jack Hughes

Vince Dunn

Mitch Marner

Connor Bedard

Wayne Gretzky (young)

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Colby Brock

Sam Golbach

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler, Dr. Beckham, Julian Mercer, Ted Logan)

Jim Halpert

Farkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)

[incorrect-modern-warfare-reborn]

Same Shit, Different Day

Welcome to the 141. Best group of handpicked warriors on the planet. Every Infinity Ward-Developed Modern Warfare game is covered here. We try to make quality content, including traditional quotes, memes, and non-traditional quotes. So have fun here. And remember, switching to your pistol is always faster than reloading.

Alright! Battalion is Oscar Mike!

[Tag Mega-List] Characters- Task Force 141 #Captain John Price #Kyle "Gaz" Garrick #John "Soap" MacTavish #Simon "Ghost" Riley #Gary "Roach" Sanderson #Yuri MW3 U.S. Marine Corp #Lt. Vasquez #Sgt. Paul Jackson #SSgt. Griggs U.S. Army Rangers #Sgt. Foley #Cpl. Dunn #Pvt. James Ramirez Delta Force #Sandman MW3 #Truck MW3 #Grinch MW3 #Frost MW3 CIA #Kate Laswell #Alex Keller #PFC Joseph Allen Various Allies #Nikolai MW #Farah Karim Antagonists #Imran Zakhaev #Vladamir Makarov #General Shepherd #Phillip Graves

Factions- #Task Force 141 #Rangers Lead The Way #Delta Boys #CIA is OP Please Nerf #Russia Bad lmao

Games- #Modern Warfare (COD 4) #Modern Warfare 2 #Modern Warfare 3 #Modern Warfare (2019) #Modern Warfare II (2022)

[fixfoxnox]

Flowers For My Love (Gaz/Jackson)

For Gaz Week over on Twitter! Day 1 of the SFW prompts was Flower Shop AU and you guys know I will take any opportunity to write Gaz/Jackson. Day 1 NSFW prompt coming later.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.2k

“Gaz,” Soap’s voice was tilted down into a teasing lilt, immediately catching Gaz’s attention from where he was spraying some of the plants in one of the corners of the shop. He narrowed his eyes at him, noting the way that he was peering out the window with a big grin on his face, “Guess who is walking down the street, headed this way right at this very moment?”

Gaz rolled his eyes and turned back to his plants, shaking his head at his friend, “Let me guess? Your rich boyfriend’s coming to visit you again?”

“Nope,” Soap popped the p in the word and turned to him excitedly, “It’s your ex-military boy.” 

Gaz froze in his place and took a moment to fully register the words that Soap had just said. As soon as he did, he was off. He could hear Soap snickering at him as he rushed over to the front counter, yanking his apron around him tighter and tugging the cap off of his head. He threw it under the counter and pulled out one of the little mirrors he kept stored around the shop, checking his face and appearance quickly to make sure he looked at least halfway decent. 

“I don’t know why you do all that,” Soap commented, casually moving up to the counter with him, “I’m pretty sure that your pretty boy would like to jump your bones no matter how you look.”

Gaz felt himself flush as Soap settled next to him and he shot his friend a glare, “Shut it.” Soap raised his hands in surrender, watching in amusement as Gaz shoved his mirror back under the counter just as the bell at the front door rang, signaling that someone had just stepped inside. 

“Paul,” Gaz called out to the man, a grin pulling across his lips. He did his best to ignore Soap’s snickering from beside him as he rounded the counter to better greet the man, “You’re in a little early, aren’t you? I wasn’t expecting you for your usual until Thursday.”

Paul Jackson was a man who had stumbled into Gaz’s flower shop a few months prior. Gaz had spotted him looking rather overwhelmed as he observed all of the different flowers that the shop offered. Jackson was attractive, a tall man with strawberry-blonde hair and two different colored eyes that had stunned Gaz the first time he met him. He was strong too, apparently owning his own gym and spending most of his days teaching classes. All around, he was one of the most attractive men that Gaz had seen in his life, and, over the months that he’d been coming into the store to talk to Gaz and buy flowers, Gaz had developed a little crush on him. 

He usually came in every Thursday to buy flowers for his apartment, apparently, he had three different vases around the house and he alternated which vase he bought flowers for each week. It was a good idea and meant that Gaz got quite a bit of business from the man. However, it wasn’t a Thursday, which meant that Jackson’s appearance was a bit of a surprise to him. 

“Sorry,” Jackson gave him a bright grin, “I’m actually not here for the usual reasons, so I’ll still be here Thursday too. I know you’re so excited to see me again.” He shot Gaz a wink and, despite the fact that it was clearly a joke, Gaz felt himself flushing a bit. 

“Well,” Gaz cleared his throat nervously and gave a short chuckle, “thanks for the warning.” Jackson seemed to grin wider at his words. “So, what brings you in today if not the usual?”

Jackson shifted a bit and, for a moment, he looked nervous. “It’s a bit embarrassing,” he warned briefly, “see, I’m planning on asking this guy out today and I wanted some flowers to do it with.” Gaz’s face fell, but he did his best to quickly cover it up, trying to avoid showing how the words had squeezed at his chest painfully. 

He cleared his throat nervously and plastered a smile on his face, his hands balled tight in his apron. Jackson didn’t deserve to have to deal with his heartbreak, it wasn’t his fault that Gaz had a crush on him. “Wow! Congrats, I’m super excited for you. I bet he’s going to love it!” He shifted a bit and, even behind him where Soap was he heard no noise. His friend obviously knew just what he was going through. “So what type of flowers are you thinking?”

“Well,” Jackson crossed his arms behind his back and gave him a grin, completely unaware of his sudden drop in mood, “See the thing is that he spends a lot of his time around flowers. Like all day.”

“All day?” Gaz asked, feeling a bit more upset, “What does he do?”

“He owns a flower shop,” Jackson responded enthusiastically, “A really good one, super cute. I come in every Thursday to buy flowers from him.”

Gaz could hear Soap gasp from behind the counter and, he had to admit, that he wanted to gasp as well. He couldn’t believe that Jackson had apparently been going to another flower shop as well as his and that, against all odds, rather than falling for Gaz he’d fallen for the owner of the other shop. If he could, he would scream. 

“Wow!” He grit out, still forcing his smile. “I guess since it’s your happy day I won’t tease you about going to a shop other than mine,” he tried to joke. The words pulled a small odd laugh from Jackson and a full snort from Soap across the room. “So what type of thing are you looking for?”

“Well,” Jackson shoved his hands in his pockets, “I’d like to find something that someone who works with flowers a lot would still appreciate.” 

Gaz felt his face soften. Even when he was upset, he just couldn’t help it. Jackson was too sweet, always thinking ahead about everything and trying to make sure to give the best he could to the others around him. He could have wailed over the fact that he was losing his chance with the man. “I’m sure that whatever you give them,” Gaz started carefully, twisting his hands together, “they’ll appreciate just because it's from you.” He cleared his throat before nervously adding, “I know I would.”

Jackson’s face went a bit pink at his words and he stared a little wide-eyed at him for a few moments. Gaz worried that perhaps he’d said a bit too much. “I- um,” Jackson cleared his throat, “What, um, if it was you, hypothetically, what type of flowers would you like to be given?”

“If it was me…”

Gaz paused for a moment, imagining what it would be like to be presented with a bouquet of flowers by the man in front of him as he shyly admitted his feelings for him. The idea made his mind a bit hazy and a happy feeling blossom in his chest. It was quick to disappear when he remembered what this was for. 

“If it was me, carnations or honeysuckles, maybe both if you’re feeling a bit feisty.” Jackson nodded along to his words, his face twisting up in thought.

“Do they work together?” He asked after a moment, tilting his head curiously at Gaz, “Could you make a bouquet with them for me?”

Gaz gave a small smile, “I can make a bouquet with anything, give me just a few minutes.” Before Jackson could respond, he was darting into the back room of the shop. His face fell as soon as he was alone and he leaned against one of the tables in the room, desperate for some sort of air. 

He took several moments to try and gather his composure, fighting against the disappointment inside his chest and how his heart seemed to squeeze painfully tight, constricting with the knowledge that, soon, Jackson would be asking someone else on a date. Soon, he would be handing someone else a bouquet of flowers made with Gaz’s hands and confessing his feelings for them. 

The thought had his hands shaking, but it didn’t stop him from expertly cutting the flowers that he needed and organizing them into a nice display. Once he was happy with how everything looked, he took the time to carefully wrap the flowers up, tying a careful ribbon around them. Once he was finished, he took a moment to examine the flowers. He’d never been so proud of a bouquet and hated it all at once in his life. Part of him wanted to rip it to pieces and the other part wanted to keep it for himself. To pretend that Jackson had given it to him. 

He pushed past that selfish part of himself to delicately gather the bouquet in his arms. He emerged from the back room, immediately spotting where Jackson was leaning up against the counter, chatting idly with Soap. He took a moment to admire him before stepping toward the two men. 

“Alright,” he carefully handed the bouquet over to Jackson, “how does that look?”

Jackson looked over it with wide eyes, a grin slowly pulling at his lips. “Gaz, you’ve outdone yourself, this is gorgeous!” 

“Thank you!” Gaz gave a bright smile, the compliment pulling at his heartstrings even more. Why did Jackson have to be so sweet? “Will it work for what you need? Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Do you like it?” Jackson looked up at him with a tilted head, observing his face with close eyes. 

Gaz was a bit surprised by the question but was quick to answer, “I do. I think the combination is beautiful.” Jackson met his answer with a short nod and a grin.

“Then they’re perfect. How much is it going to run me?” 

Gaz moved behind the counter, ignoring the bright grin that Soap gave him in favor of typing a few things into his little computer system. He didn’t understand why his friend was grinning at him. Didn’t he understand what was going on? Didn’t he understand that Gaz was fighting through his own heartbreak? 

“Hey,” Soap drew Gaz’s attention toward him, “I’m going to step into the back for a second.”

“Why?”

“No reason,” Soap gave a grin. He turned to Jackson, “Nice to see you man, good luck with asking your guy out, though,” he glanced toward Gaz for a moment, “Something tells me you won’t need it.” He gave a quick pat on Gaz’s back before quickly disappearing into the backroom.

Gaz glared after him before turning back to the computer, trying to type everything in as quickly as possible. It was difficult when he could feel Jackson’s eyes watching him closely. He’d misclicked around six times before he finally managed to get everything in and read off the amount. “Fifty-two dollars and sixty cents is the total.” He took Jackson’s offered card and swiped it through. As usual, the payment went through without issue. “Alright,” he handed the card back and leaned tiredly against the counter, “You’re all set. Good luck.” 

Jackson gave him a bright grin, “This is really nerve-wracking for me, you know.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Gaz encouraged, “Just go for it. I’m sure they’ll say yes.”

“I hope you’re right.” Jackson took in a deep breath before holding the bouquet out for him. Gaz stared at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what he was doing. 

“Is something,” he looked up at Jackson with furrowed brows, “Is something wrong with it?”

Jackson gave him a bright grin and shook his head, “They’re for you.”

Gaz took the offered flowers slowly, his brows still wrinkled in confusion, “But I thought you said they were for the guy you were asking out? The one who owns the flower shop and- oh.” His face lit up red as he realized exactly what was happening. “Oh- wait, is this- you mean? You- the guy?”

Jackson gave a low chuckle at his nervous stutters and nodded his head. His eyes had a sort of amused and adoring twinkle in them and Gaz felt himself flush harder. He was quick to hide his face in the bouquet. “The guy is you. I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve kind of only been coming for flowers over the past few months just to see you. I don’t actually need so many flowers, my apartment is covered in them.”

“You’ve been coming just to see me?” He was sure he was going to melt into the floor. All this time that he’d been crushing on Jackson, all this time that he’d wanted to say something and Jackson had been doing just the same. It made his heart flutter in his chest. 

“I have,” Jackson admitted with a shy sort of grin, “I was hoping, though, that I might be able to see you more than just once a week. If you’d like?”

Gaz just stared at him for a long moment before practically leaping over the counter to grab at the front of his shirt and tug him closer. He pressed their lips together, a grin on his face as he finally was able to taste the other man. It was better than he could have hoped and, as Jackson leaned across the counter to better kiss him, he couldn’t have been happier.

[fixfoxnox]

Personal Models (Price/Gaz/Jackson)

Day 4 of Gaz week! The SFW prompt was Hobby!

Warnings: thirsty comments (so slight nsfw there)

"You know," Jackson did a quick spin, "I think I look fucking fantastic in this, really shows off my legs."

Gaz couldn't help the laugh that pulled from his lips at the words. The skirt that his boyfriend was wearing swished around his legs with every move, exposing a bit more of his thighs with every second. Gaz could feel his face heating up at the sigh, but the grin that he wore stayed in place.

"You know," he readjusted the camera in front of him, "If you keep moving like that, I'm never going to get a good picture. You'll starve my followers of their thirst content." He chuckled a bit to himself at the thought. He'd already had a number of people in his comments begging to see another outfit on Jackson or Price and, well, he was never one to starve people of what they wanted.

Jackson rolled his eyes at the words, "Let them starve! I like the way it moves and I insisted on enjoying it." He turned his nose up playfully before moving again to allow the fabric of the skirt to move around his thighs again.

"Well," Gaz put his hands on his hips and gave Jackson a stern look, "If you don't sit still, I'll just have to put John in the skirt instead." Gaz shot a playful look over to Price who'd been quietly watching the entire situation.

"I think I'd look better in it," Price answered easily, his tone teasing, "I mean I looked better in the last skirt that you made."

"That's just because blue isn't my color," Jackson complained with a huff, "Gaz made that one specifically for you, I know it! I mean did you see the face he made when I asked to try it on?" He brought his hand up to lay against his forehead dramatically, "Woe is me, my boyfriend only likes to dress up our other boyfriend."

Gaz scoffed, but couldn't help the laugh that pulled from his throat. "Alright, drama queen. Just pose and let me get a picture. Then you can twirl for us as much as you want."

"Promise?" Jackson gave him a cheeky grin and Gaz could only roll his eyes in response.

"Promise," he crouched back down to look through the viewfinder of his camera, "Alright, do something cute, would you?"

Jackson scoffed as he moved into a pose, "I'm always doing something cute."

Gaz tucked back further against Price's chest with a sigh, the sounds of a football game playing on the TV ringing around the room. His hands were moving quickly, practically following muscle memory more than anything. Just winding the thread through the holes in a specific pattern. Hand sewing certainly wasn't his favorite part of his hobby, but it was a necessary one.

On the other end of the couch was Jackson. He was idly scrolling through his phone, one of his hands stroking along the bare skin of one of Gaz's legs that lay in his lap. He was meant to be paying attention to the football game, something about trying to learn so he could understand what Price was always going on about. He'd very quickly gotten distracted though, as Gaz suspected he would.

Price didn't seem to notice, all of his focus on the game in front of him. It was probably for the best, after all, Gaz didn't know what he would do if both of his boyfriends became sports fanatics about the same sport. He would prefer it if Jackson stuck to baseball and Price stuck to football. It would be much easier to focus on his sewing if only one of them was yelling at the TV.

Except there was something distracting him from his sewing and, of course, that something was Jackson. He hadn't thought much of it when his boyfriend started looking at his phone. He hadn't even thought about it when he'd started giggling at first. But after several minutes of occasional laughter, Gaz had a pretty good idea of what the man was doing.

He waited until the football game went to commercial, that way he could talk without cutting into any of the commentary for the game.

"Paul," he nudged the other man with his leg, "are you looking at my Instagram right now?"

Jackson's face went a bit red which was all of the answer that Gaz needed. "Listen," Jackson started nervously, "I just, you know-"

"Thought you'd go read some comments of people complimenting you," Price cut in, an amused smile on his face. "A bit self-centered, love."

"No!" Jackson was quick to respond, "No, no! I just thought that I would...you know," his face only went redder, "see what people were saying about Gaz's design."

"Mhm," Gaz couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips, "and what are they saying? Read me the last comment you liked."

Jackson looked down at his phone nervously, his eyes scanning across the screen. He blushed red again before quietly reading off, "I don't know what to focus on here, Gaz's amazing design or Jackson's legs." He paused for a moment as both Gaz and Price snickered at him, "Hey! I just liked it because of the part about Gaz, I swear!"

"Alright," Price's voice was filled with amusement, "Read us off another one of your liked comments then."

Jackson paused for a long moment, "No," he responded hesitantly, his face still red.

Gaz was quick to jerk forward and snatch the phone from Jackson's hands. He managed to pass it back to Price just as Jackson made a grab for it, preventing the man from taking hold of it. "Hey!" Jackson made another grab but Gaz was quick to put his foot on the man's chest, preventing him from moving any further.

"What's it say?" He tilted his head back to grin up at Price.

"Holy shit, fuck, oh my god," Price started, laughter in his voice already, "fuck, oh my god, Gaz thank you for sharing this with us, the skirt and one of your insanely hot boyfriends holy shit."

Gaz snorted at the comment and turned his eyes to Jackson's red face, "Really, babe?"

"Oh here's another one," Price had a grin on his face, "Gaz can I please have your boyfriend and his amazing legs I'll give you my whole life savings for him, that's like...twelve dollars."

"You guys are so mean to me," Jackson called out, "Those were flukes, just the only few that I liked, I swear."

"You don't understand, Gaz, I would eat both of your boyfriend's asses like a four-course meal, one chance please."

Gaz descended into laughter rather quickly and it didn't stop as Price continued reading off the many comments that Jackson had liked. Jackson could do nothing but listen and pout at them as they read everything off.

Thirsty comments for Price and Jackson were quite common to see on Gaz's sewing Instagram. He liked using his boyfriends as models and his followers loved seeing them dressed up in whatever new thing he made. He was sure a number of people were just there to see his boyfriends, but if they were engaging with his posts he didn't care. He still got the revenue from it.

"You know," he called after Price had finished reading yet another one of the comments, "if you want compliments so bad you can just say so. I'm more than willing to tell you both how handsome you are."

Jackson blushed red again. "I enjoy complimenting you more," he responded shyly, "My talented boyfriend and his sewing projects."

It was Gaz's turn to flush slightly at the words and he was quick to bury his face in Price's chest out of embarrassment. "He's right," Price nudges him slightly, "Our talented boyfriend and his sewing. We only look as good as we do because of you."

"Flatterers," Gaz accused, still hiding his face in Price's chest.

His words pulled a chuckle from both of the men. "For you?" Jackson asked playfully, his hand rubbing over his leg again, "Always."

[fixfoxnox]

To See You Happy (Gaz/Jackson)

The second day of Gaz Week!! Today's SFW prompt was Trans! Gaz and I (once again) decided to go with my boys for today. Don't worry I promise it isn't only Gaz/Jackson this week...just a lot of it is jsjjsjs

Warnings: Implied dysphoria, Sugar Daddy/Baby relationships

Word Count: 2.9k

“Oh come-” Gaz hissed a bit as he slammed his knee onto his bed, immediately toppling over onto his soft mattress. His vision was still blocked by the long white fabric he’d been trying to force over his head. After a long moment of laying like that, his arms straight out over him, he finally moved. 

“Stupid,” he threw the old binder away with a huff, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Anger rose up in his chest and, for a brief moment, he wanted to scream. He hated this, absolutely fucking hated it. Because, of course, with his luck his binder would rip right before his date, and, of course, his old binder didn’t fit in the slightest anymore. Of course, he couldn’t be so lucky as to have things work out for him for once in his life. 

After the anger came the crash into anxiety. He buried his face in his hands and gave a short scream, frustration bubbling up in his chest and rising into his throat. It made him feel sick. He didn’t know what to do. 

He had a date he was meant to go to. A date with the man currently paying his rent for the nice apartment, paying for his food, and buying him anything that his heart desired. All he had to do for his half of the deal was go on a date and he couldn’t even do that now! He couldn’t imagine a world in which Jackson would be happy with seeing him like this. Hell, Gaz wasn’t even happy seeing himself like this!

He gave another groan before flopping back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. He needed to figure something out because Jackson was set to show up at any moment and he couldn’t go on a date like this.

He tried to consider his options. He supposed that he could cancel the date, lie and say that he wasn’t feeling well, and wait several days for a new binder to be delivered before setting up another day. The problem was that it had been weeks since he’d seen Jackson, weeks that the man had been away on a business trip of some sort, only able to communicate with him through phone calls and text. It had been hell on Gaz who found himself desperate to see the man and curl up into his arms. Jackson would understand, the problem wasn’t him. It was that Gaz didn’t want to cancel the date. 

He supposed that he could dig out his old sports bra and wear that in combination with the baggiest hoodie that he owned, surely that would cover his chest enough that he could make it through the date without wanting to cry. Except that he couldn’t do that because Jackson had planned to take him to a nice restaurant for lunch. One of those ones with a dress code that always made him nervous because the menus didn’t have a price next to things. The ones where Jackson always spoiled him rotten with wine and desserts. So, that wasn’t an option. 

He could always just tell Jackson what was going on but…how could he know that the man wouldn’t be mad at him? He’d been gone for so long, he’d gone through all of the trouble to get them a reservation and Gaz was going to ruin it all because his stupid binder ripped!

He gave another loud groan, this time though, his nose twitched along with it and he could feel that tingle along his face that told him that he was close to tears. Sure enough, he found his eyes watering only moments later. This was not what he needed at the moment. His luck decided rather quickly that his current struggle wasn’t enough. 

The doorbell on Gaz’s apartment rang and he froze, panic rushing through him and finally forcing the tears in his eyes to begin to fall. He moved quickly, pushing himself up from the bed and rushing toward the door, grabbing a shirt along his way while trying desperately to stop the tears that were dripping from his eyes. His frantic rubbing only seemed to make them fall harder and he forced himself to stop in front of the door as the bell rang once again. 

There was a long moment where he tried to continue wiping at his face while keeping his sniffles quiet enough that Jackson wouldn’t be able to hear him through the door. He thought he was doing quite a good job, even as it seemed that the other man was getting concerned by how long it was taking him to come to the door. 

“Gaz?” His voice was sweet, concern dripping from his tongue, “Are you alright in there?”

Gaz finally felt like he had a grip on his emotions or at least enough of a grip that he could open the door. He took in a deep breath before plastering a fake smile across his face and grabbing tight to the doorknob to pull it open.

He was greeted immediately by the concerned face of Jackson, the man dressed up quite nicely in a little business casual. Even though the door was open, the concerned look on Jackson’s face didn’t disappear. “Paul,” Gaz greeted him, trying to keep his voice as excited as he could, “I’m sorry I’m not ready yet, why don’t you come in?”

“Gaz, what’s wrong?”

Immediately Gaz felt his resolve crumble and, once again, tears were rising to his eyes. Before he could stop himself, a small sob was escaping his throat and he was forced to hide his face in his hands. He stumbled away from Jackson, but he could hear the man following quickly after him and, soon, he found himself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms and pulled against the man’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out after several long moments of just being soothed by the other man. He felt like a complete mess at the moment and he hated it.

“Don’t apologize,” Jackson was quick to reply. He pressed a kiss to the top of Gaz’s head and tugged him tighter to his chest, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” Gaz responded, burying his face in Jackson’s chest. He was determined to hide his shame from the other man, but that idea was quickly squashed when Jackson pulled back just enough that he could tilt his chin up and get a good look at his face. 

Jackson’s face was much softer than Gaz had been expecting and he found himself flushing under the loving gaze that he was given. Jackson took a quiet moment to wipe at the tears on Gaz’s cheeks with his thumbs, carefully cleaning him up. “It isn’t stupid,” he spoke after a moment, “If it’s bothering you, it isn’t stupid.” 

The fluttering feeling in Gaz’s chest was enough to calm him down at least momentarily. He still felt like the moment he shared what was actually going on that Jackson would change on him, though he recognized that the thought was his own insecurities taking over and not anything that Jackson had ever given him reason to believe. 

“I can’t go out today,” he landed on after a long moment. The words were spoken quietly, barely more than a whisper. He could tell that Jackson had heard them by the way that he tilted his head. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “You don’t seem very happy about that, though. Is there a reason you can’t go out?” There was a long moment of silence where Gaz just shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to share the real reason with the other man. Jackson waited patiently, never showing any signs of annoyance despite Gaz’s long pause. 

“I ripped my binder,” Gaz finally muttered, “I don’t have another one and I won’t be able to get another for a few days.” 

There was a moment of silence as the words just sat between the two men. Gaz waited for the response from Jackson, for the man’s annoyance at him for only having one binder that actually fit. For his disappointment over the situation. For his anger at Gaz over a perfectly good reservation wasted. None of it ever came. 

“That’s all?” Gaz’s head shot up in surprise, his wide eyes meeting the amused smile that pulled at Jackson’s face, “Kyle, baby, you should have said something. If I’d known you only had one binder,” he paused for a moment, as though thinking, “actually, scratch what I just said. I can’t believe myself.” He shook his head and Gaz was sure that this was the moment when the anger would come in. “I can’t believe I haven’t talked about paying for you to get top surgery yet, assuming you want that, of course.” He shook his head, tutting at himself and Gaz was left reeling. 

“You,” he gaped at the man, “You aren’t angry?”

“At you?” Jackson shook his head, “Of course not. I, however, am pretty upset at myself for not realizing sooner that you only had one binder.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Baby, why don’t you put on something you’re comfortable with? I’ll call the restaurant and push our reservation back to tonight. Right now, we’re going to go buy you a new binder.”

Gaz’s face flushed and he shuffled nervously in your spot, “You don’t have to do that.”

Jackson stepped forward and tilted his chin up to press their lips together. It was just a short kiss, but it made Gaz’s heart flutter in his chest. “I don’t have to do it,” Jackson agreed as he pulled back, “but I want to.”

Gaz had no idea where they were, no idea in the slightest. What he did know was that they were in one of the richer parts of the city, the one that Jackson liked to take him when he decided that he wanted to spoil him with a shopping trip. It was the one where Gaz always felt a bit out of place, a bit like the people who worked there knew he didn’t belong. He always felt he belonged more when he had Jackson by his side. 

Jackson’s driver pulled them up right beside a rather nice-looking clothing shop and, the first thing that Gaz noticed was the little pride flag hanging in the store’s window. Gaz peered out of the car window anxiously, still tugging at his shirt. He didn’t like being out without a binder on. 

Jackson was the first out and he was quick to hold a hand out for Gaz, helping him out of the car with a reassuring smile on his face. Gaz was hesitant, but took his offered hand and allowed himself to be guided out of the car and into the store. 

The two were greeted immediately by a dark-skinned woman with a kind smile on her face. She greeted Jackson with a quick handshake. “Paul, it’s a pleasure to have you in again so soon. How did your boyfriend like the gift?”

Gaz’s head shot to Jackson and he watched as the other man went a bright red and glanced back toward him nervously, “Oh, um, well,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I haven’t given it to him yet.”

“Oh,” she seemed a tad disappointed, but was quick to brush it off, “well, keep me updated! I want to know that he loves it. Now,” she turned her gaze toward Gaz, “Who is this.”

“This is Gaz,” Jackson spoke nervously. Gaz could see the way that the woman’s eyes widened and he noticed the apologetic look that she sent toward Jackson. 

She took Gaz’s hand in her own and greeted him with a grin, “Nice to meet you Gaz. I’ve heard a lot about you from Paul.” She looked between them for a moment before asking, “So what brings you both in today.”

Jackson cleared his throat, the flush on his skin seemed to have faded down to only a slight pink dusting across the tops of his cheeks, “Gaz needs a new binder. I figured you could help?” 

The woman gasped in delight and, within a moment, Gaz found his arm captured and his body being dragged toward the back of the store. He glanced back toward Jackson in a panic, only to be met with an apologetic and amused smile from the man. “You know where the seats are,” the woman called back to him, “I’ll return your boyfriend in a few minutes!” Gaz could hear Jackson’s chuckle even as he was pressed into one of the changing rooms, the woman following after him with a measuring tape. 

“How do you like it?” That was the first question out of Jackson’s mouth when Gaz stepped out of the fitting room to show off another style of binder that he wore. 

Gaz looked down at himself, a feeling of delight running through his chest as he noticed, once again, just how flat the binders made his chest. They all worked better than even his older binder had and, with everyone that he tried on he wanted to do a little happy dance. It just felt so good to finally look in the mirror and not see any lumps from where his binder had wrinkled or not flattened him fully. 

“I love it,” he turned so that he could observe himself in the mirror again, his hands brushing over his chest excitedly, a bright grin on his face. “It’s definitely in the top of the running for me.”

His words pulled an amused hum from Jackson and the other man was quick to remind him, “You’ve said that about every single one that you tried on.” 

Gaz could feel himself flush red at the reminder and he shot an apologetic glance toward Jackson. “I’m sorry, they’re all just so…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it to the other man. He didn’t think it was something that he could explain.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Jackson assured him, “I’m happy to see you so happy.” He gave an appreciative hum as he looked Gaz over, his eyes sparking with something that Gaz could only describe as adoration. It made his heart beat faster in his chest. “This was the last one, right?”

Gaz nodded his head in response, “Now I just have to decide which one I want.” He looked down at the binder that he was wearing, biting his lip in thought. It was certainly going to be a hard decision. He’d tried on four different styles in total and he’d loved every one of them.

“How about,” Jackson stood from his seat and started toward him, “I buy you more than one?” He wrapped his arms around Gaz’s waist and let his head rest on his shoulder. Gaz met his eyes in the mirror and he knew the other man could tell what his response was before he even had a chance to open his mouth. “I want to buy you more than one,” Jackson was quick to say, “That way if something happens, you have other options. And you can just wear the one you have on out of the store..” He pressed a quick kiss to Gaz’s cheek, “Plus it will make you happy. A win-win-win.” 

“For me,” Gaz joked carefully, “you don’t get anything out of it.”

“I get to see you happy,” Jackson responded easily, “and I love seeing you happy.” 

“That doesn’t seem like enough,” Gaz bit his lip nervously, turning his gaze away from Jackson’s in the mirror. The words from the woman who owned the shop had been ringing around his head the entire time he’d been trying things on. Jackson had told her they were boyfriends. Not that they had whatever deal that they had, but that they were together. Surely that meant that he wanted them to be together like that, right?

“What do you propose to give me, then,” Jackson asked, a small smile on his face, “if you need an idea, I would be more than happy to take some of those cookies you make.”

“I was thinking,” Gaz met his eyes through the mirror, “maybe…I could make what you told the store owner about our relationship true?” 

Jackson seemed to freeze against him, his face turning a light pink as he stared at Gas through the mirror. He seemed like he was trying to figure out if he’d heard Gaz correctly. “You mean…?”

“Yes,” Gaz confirmed nervously, “I want to be your boyfriend. I want more than what we’ve been doing, than what our relationship has been.” 

There was a long moment of quiet. “And you’re sure,” Jackson was careful to ask, “I don’t want you doing something just because you think it's what I want. I want you to be happy, remember?”

“And you make me happy," Gaz was quick to answer. "I'll be happy with you." It was like Jackson melted with his words. His entire body relaxed and a sort of dopey grin took over his face. 

There was a long moment where he just buried his face into Gaz's shoulder, staying there to breathe him in. Gaz could feel the grin that he was hiding pressed against his skin. "Kyle Garrick," Jackson spoke carefully, "my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend," Gaz confirmed, a bright grin on his face. He couldn't help the laugh that pulled from him when Jackson excitedly kissed his neck at the words.

In the end, Gaz left the store with four new binders and a new boyfriend to go with them. He didn't think that his bad day could have been fixed in a better way.

[fixfoxnox]

141 boys going into a haunted house, who do you think would come out of it screaming? 🤔

My money's on Soap but it'd be really funny if GHOST is actually the one coming out of it screaming like he just saw Death himself. 🤭

- 🥀

I think that, in a surprise turn of events, Price would be the one who comes out the most scared.

No one expects it, everyone is already ribbing Soap, thinking he'll be the one who screams the most and gets scared the most. Soap is insisting that it won't happen, but the rest of the 141 know that he's the easiest to scare with a simple "boo!" and surprise jump from around a corner, so they definitely don't believe him.

Meanwhile, Price is (smartly) being very quiet. Nik is next to him grinning like a mad man because he knows. He knows that while John Price might be an unshakable man in the battlefield, this isn't the battlefield.

So the group go in together, everything is fine for the first like few minutes when they're just walking through, but haven't reached any scary parts. They they hit the first room and shit hits the fan.

The first person pops out at them, Soap of course jumps, but so does Roach and Gaz. Ghost could smell a cheap jumpscare from a mile, so he's just chilling.

Meanwhile behind the group, Price has already tucked himself against Nik's side. He has a death grip on this man's arm and Nik has to like literally coax him to keep going forward. The team is too distracted laughing to notice.

Then they get to the next room and this is when they start realizing that it won't be Soap who gets the most scared. Another scare moment happens and they can all hear clear as day as Price literally yelps at whatever the actor does. They turn and realize Price is now behind Nik, forcing the man to go in front of him as they push through.

Each room gets worse and worse until finally Price breaks away from the group and is rushing ahead to try and get out quicker. Nik is following behind him quicker and, even pretty far back the boys can hear Price screaming as he's pushing through to the end.

When they come out he's literally like hunched over trying to catch his breath and dry heaving as Nik comforts him. They learn pretty quickly afterwards that apparently their Captain is terrified of shit like this. And, of course, they can't let him live it down, but they also never make him go into a haunted house with them again.

As for the others:

Ghost is stone faced, literally blank expression as a scare actor gets in his face a revs a chainsaw or screams. He is unimpressed and the most he'll do is compliment the actors costumes of the six before moving on.

Roach and Soap are clinging to Ghosts arm. Soap is definitely more scared of what's happening and jumps at practically everything. They get some good screams and pictures out of Soap.

Roach is holding on the Ghost for support because the dim lights and strobes and weird lighting makes him dizzy. Its not uncommon for him to trip and eat shit while in a haunted house. However, he also gets similarly scared like Soap and often buries his face in Ghost's shoulder for support. He doesn't scream, he nervously laughs so if you're behind their group, you hear screaming mixed with nervous laughter from him and Soap.

Gaz, if by himself, is probably like one of the normal haunted house goers. He gets pretty scared but can also laugh at himself while he's going through it. However, if he's with someone like, say, his boyfriend Paul Jackson, it's a little different.

Those two would be messing with each other the entire way through the haunted house, like scaring the shit out of the other before the actors even got a chance. However it leads to plenty of moments where one or both of them are distracted laughing and get the shit scared out of them by the scare actors.

You know those pictures that you see occasionally of like 2 guys in a haunted house screaming and clinging to each other? That's them.

[fixfoxnox]

"The 141 are pinned down"

Me: 👀👀👀

Me:

Me:

Me: oh you meant like in a fight....ah

I will pin them down in other ways hold on

Warnings: Safe word use, Smut, Rough Sex, various ships below, spit as lube

NSFW below the cut 😁

Price (NikPrice):

Large hands grabbed his hips, quickly flipping him from his back to his front. He was yanked roughly back, a small gasp forced from his lips as the man behind him slipped right back to where he had been slamming in and out of him at a quick speed.

The change in angle allowed the bulkier man to hit harder and deeper inside of him, forcing desperate moans from his mouth in a little punched out melody. Pleasure thrummed through him with every hit, his aching cock begging to be touched.

"Nik," he whined out desperately, pressing himself back against the man behind him, "Please, please, please!"

Nikolai was quick to wrap an arm around his chest, his hand fixing its way around his throat so that he could yank him back. He continued to pound into him with unrelenting strength, even as he pulled him back to rest against his chest. "What do you want? Hmm?" Nikolai muttered the words in his ear, sounding as though he was hardly effected by the hard pace he was moving at. The only sign that he was effected were the little grunts and pleased noises that occasionally escaped his lips.

Price could feel his legs shaking, pleasure spiking in his body. He wanted to touch himself, wanted to finally finish himself off with just a few strokes. The slow build of pleasure in his gut was so unbelievably good, but it was also maddening. "Please," he moaned, his head tilting back against Nikolai's shoulder.

"Please?" Nikolai gave a breathy chuckle beside his ear. "Come on, Captain. Use your words."

Price felt a small twinge of annoyance run through him at the man's teasing, but it was quickly buried as Nikolai nailed his prostate, sending his arms rushing back to grab at Nikolai behind him, his blunt nails digging into the other man's skin. Nikolai continued hitting that spot with deadly accuracy

His voice was more desperate than he thought he'd even heard it as he finally gave in and weakly called out, "Please let me touch myself, please."

"Was that so hard?" Nikolai chuckled against his ear. "Thank you for asking," he was quick to shove Price back down to the bed, shoving his face into the mattress as one of his hands fixed itself on the back of his neck, pinning him in place as he continued to slam into him. "You're going to cum like this, dusha moya. You're going to finish from my cock alone or not at all."

Gaz (SoapGaz):

Gaz stumbled into the room, his mouth connected in a fiery kiss with Soap's. Their hands explored the other quickly, rutting up clothing to touch skin and darting down to get a quick pinch or grope at the other's ass.

They barely managed to shut the door behind them before Soap had Gaz pressed against the wall, pinning him in place against the wood as one of his knees shoved its way between his legs, pressing a delicious friction against his hardening cock.

Soap's hand continued to explore, shoving Gaz's shirt up so that he could dart down to capture a nipple in his mouth, flicking the bud with his tongue. Gaz arched into the feeling, moaning out as he grew tangled in his shirt, trying desperately to get the fabric away from his heated skin.

One of Soap's hands slipped down, easily bypassing the waistband of his sweatpants. The man palmed at him over his underwear first, sending pleasure crawling up his spine and forcing his hips to jerk into the movement. "Fuck, Soap," Gaz's head fell back with a bang against the door, his mouth gaping open as the dual sensations of a mouth against his chest and a hand on his cock continued. Soap only hummed against his skin.

After a moment, Soap stood up fully, recapturing his lips for a filthy opened mouthed kiss. The click of teeth and tongues only seemed to drive the feeling of Soap's hand slipping into his underwear higher for Gaz, his back arching against the door desperately as Soap wrapped a hand around him.

Soap began a slow pace, his hand dragging up and down Gaz's cock with a torturous twist of his wrist. Gaz jerked his hips into the movement, trying to get any sort of further friction from the man in front of him. It only served to make Soap chuckle against his lips, his free hand moved up to stroke along his chest again.

The mouth against his own moved away, trailing down to place heated kisses against his skin and suck bruising marks on him. Gaz could only whine and moan at the feeling, his own hands skating over Soap's clothed chest desperately before finally grabbing tight to his shirt for some sort of purchase.

"Soap," he grabbed tighter to the man as the slow pace of his hand grew to be not enough for him. He needed something faster, he needed the other man to tighten his fist around him. "Please, please, faster, fuck!"

"Need more, do ya?" Soap gave a quick nip to his neck, "Should have just said so." All at once he changed his pace. His fist tightened and he quickly began jerking up and down Gaz's cock at an overwhelming speed. It was too quick of a change from his previous pace and it had Gaz's legs shaking as gasps were forced from his lips continuously, hardly giving him a chance to breathe.

He tried to squirm away from the touch, the feeling of it almost overstimulating with its quickness. Soap was quick to remove the hand from his chest and press it against his hips, forcing him to stay still as he pinned him back against the door. "Soap!"

"C'mon now," Soap had a wicked grin on his face, "Keep still for me, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Ghost (GhostRoach):

"Fuck!" Ghost tilted his head back, trying desperately not to buck his hips up into the mouth of the man hovering over him. It was a difficult thing to do, especially when he pulled off to give several long swipes of his tongue along the length of his cock.

Roach was always good at this. Ridiculously good with his mouth and his hands and always more than willing to drop to his knees at a word from Ghost. Now though, now was different. Now Ghost was at Roach's mercy, trying desperately to follow the man's command to keep his hips still.

It was difficult as Roach leisurely sucked at the head of his cock, his hand moving up and down his dick in tight slow strokes. His other hand had moved down to massage over his balls. All of it was making keeping still feel more and more impossible.

Roach took him further into his mouth slowly, his tongue stroking up and down the underside of his cock as he did. Pleasure singed up Ghosts spine and and he was forced to grab tight to the sheets of the bed, needing some sort of purchase as Roach hummed around him. Roach met his eyes as he continued sinking down further on him, his gaze just as challenging as it was mischevious. He clearly wanted Ghost to lose control of himself.

He knew exactly how to get that too. He sank himself all the way down, taking Ghost's cock into the back of his throat before moaning around his length. Ghosts legs shook and he tossed his head to the side, a deep groan pulled from his throat.

"Fuck," he gave a desperate grunt as Roach quickly pulled off of his cock and returned to only giving him sweet kitten licks to the tip while his hand worked over him slowly. "Fuck, Bug, this is unfair." His words were desperate, his voice already wrecked.

Roach pulled away from his cock with a mischevious grin, his hand beginning to work him up and down faster. "Unfair?" He tilted his head at Ghost innocently, "I'm sucking your cock, aren't I?" His hand tightened around him, "All that I asked is that you be good for me and keep those hips still."

"You," Ghost tilted his head back with a groan, "You're making that impossible." Roach ran his thumb over the head of his cock suddenly and that was it for him. The unexpected move had a gasp tearing from his throat and his hips jumping up desperately to follow the friction of those hands.

As soon as he'd done it and the hands on his cock were gone. Instead they pressed harshly onto his hips, pinning them in place as Roach came to hover over his dick again. He gave a small laugh, "Look at that," he grinned teasingly up at Ghost, "You lose."

Ghost would have been annoyed, but he couldn't find it in himself to be when, a moment later, Roach took him all the way down his throat.

Soap (SoapRoach):

Roach had him bent over the nearest hard surface that he could find, his hands working him open with all of the confidence of a man who did this often. With the amount of lube the two had gone through in the past week, Soap knew very well how often Roach got up to this sort of thing.

He gasped against the table, pressing his warm cheek to the cool wooden surface desperately. Roach was very skilled with his hands and, as his fingers worked their way in and out of him, Soap couldn't help but squirm, the attention not enough for his already leaking cock.

Roach met the movement with a hand slapping the back of his thigh harshly, "Stay still." His words were hissed out and punctuated with a sharp thrust of his fingers that had Soap giving a loud moan. Roach was quick to give a slap to his thigh again, "And quiet, we don't need someone outside to hear you. I'd hate for the enemy to find us while I'm knuckle deep inside you."

Soap gave a moan again, but he was quick to muffle it with his hand. He knew that Roach was right about them needing to stay quiet. This might have been a safe house, but that didn't meant they couldn't be caught.

He tried to rut back against the fingers curling inside of him and, thankfully, Roach didn't seem to mind. In fact, Roach gave a low chuckle before slowly beginning to work another finger inside of him, stretching him well with three buried as far as they could inside of him.

The pressure made his legs shake as Roach increased the speed of the fingers fucking into him. It was so unbelievably good and he felt more than ready to take Roach's cock, but still, Roach continued with no sign of stopping. He worked him higher and higher with his fingers, forcing pleasure to haze over his mind as he continued whining into his arm.

After a moment, Roach brushed against that spot inside of him, nailing it so perfectly that he couldn't help but jerk in the man's arms, a loud whine pulling from his mouth as he moved away from his arms on instinct.

In a flash, Roach had a hand around his mouth, his entire body pressing against his to pin him down to the table as his hand harshly nailed that spot over and over. "Didn't I tell you to stay still and keep quiet?" His voice was harsh and Soap moaned again at the sound of it, his entire body shaking as he was worked higher and higher into his pleasure. "Do I need to gag you? Tie you down? Is that the only way you'll listen?" Soap moaned against him again, a flush running over his skin at Roach's responding laugh. "Is that it, hmm?" He leaned forward, his mouth pressed right against Soap's ear as he spoke, "Is that where you belong? Gagged and pinned down while I fuck you stupid?"

Soap's eyes rolled back as the white hot of his orgasm rushed over his body.

Roach (GhostRoach):

Roach gave a moan as he came down from the high of his pleasure. The feeling of Ghost still rutting inside of him was quickly becoming too much after the third orgasm that Ghost had ripped from his body that night. His hands dug into the other man's shoulders desperately, tiny gasps pulled from his lips as he tried to speak around Ghost continuing to nail his prostate.

"Simon!" He sobbed out finally, "Please, please, too much!!!" Ghost didn't listen to him, his mind laser focused as he chased his own pleasure. Normally Roach would have gladly let himself be used, but this was definitely pushing into unpleasant territory for him and he couldn't let that happen. He could help Ghost get off in another way but for now he needed the man to stop. "Whiskey!" He called finally, "whiskey, whiskey!"

Simon stopped immediately, his eyes turning wide as he looked down at Roach's red face. "Shit," He tilted down to press a kiss to Roach's exhausted face, "You alright? I'm so sorry, Bug."

Roach waved him off quickly, "You didn't do anything wrong," his voice sounded weak to his own ears and he could see Ghost wince. He tugged the man closer to him, "This is why we have the safeword, remember?" He pressed a kiss to Ghost's cheek, "If I needed it before then, I would have used it. I'm okay."

Ghost seemed to calm down at the words, his entire body relaxing with a relieved sigh. "Good, that's good." He caught his eyes, "What do you need?"

Roach winced slightly, "Pull out?"

Ghost did as he asked, slowly pulling out of him in a move that had both of them wincing. Ghost was still hard, precum leaking from the tip of his cock. He gave no indication that he noticed though, completely ignoring it in favor of pressing kisses to Roach's cheeks. "I'll go get you some water," he spoke lowly.

Roach stopped him with a hand on his arm, "No," he motioned to the bottle of lube that had been discarded against their nightstand, "Hand me that, baby."

"Roach," Ghost started lowly, "You don't have to-"

"Si," Roach met him with a low look, "The lube."

Ghost hesitated for only a moment before handing the bottle to Roach, watching with wide eyes as Roach poured a generous amount into his hands before handing the bottle back to him so he could return it to its place.

Roach warmed the lube up between his hands, taking his time before finally lifting his legs and beginning to slather the slick substance between his thighs. Once he was satisfied he turned to meet Ghost's wide eyes with a smile, "Wanna fuck my thighs?"

Ghost was on him in a second, shifting back to in front of him on the bed. His hands gripped tight to Roach's legs, lifting them up and pressing them back toward his chest, pinning him in place with the movement as he rutted up against the backs of his thighs.

"Fuck, Bug," he pulled Roach's legs apart just enough that he could slip his aching cock between them before pressing Roach's legs tight together, gasping as the plushness of Roach's thighs enveloped him in a tight heat. "God you're fucking perfect."

With that, Ghost began to shallowly rut himself between the slide of Roach's thighs, moans and gasps pulling from his throat. He picked speed up quickly, soon matching the pace that he had earlier as his hands continued to press Roach back, pinning him to the bed by his legs. Roach couldn't help but admire the sight of Ghosts red and fucked out face.

"Feel good, baby?" He asked, meeting his boyfriend's eyes with an innocent smile.

Ghost met his teasing by pressing against him harder, a growl pulling from his throat as he spoke, "Going to be doing this much more often, Bug." One of his hands slapped Roach's ass harshly, pulling a squeak and bright red blush from the man underneath him, "Every part of you was just made for me to fuck, wasn't it?"

Bonus! Jackson (Gaz/Jackson):

It had started as some light making out on the couch with his boyfriend. Jackson really hadn't meant for it to turn into anything more. He hadn't even tried to turn it into a makeout session! He really had just wanted to kiss his cute boyfriend for being cute. That was all!

It was Gaz who had pulled him in for another kiss! It was Gaz who had licked his way into his mouth, pressing closer and closer to him with every suck of his tongue into his mouth. It was Gaz who had shoved him to lay back on the couch and crawled into his lap. It was Gaz who had started to grind against him, pulling harsh gasps from his lips.

And now, it was Gaz who was shoving his sweatpants and underwear down just enough that he could pull his already hard cock out to begin stroking over him quickly.

He could do nothing but groan as the other man worked him over quickly, a seductive smile on his face as he stared down at his gasping and panting form. "F-fuck, darlin'," Jackson's head tilted back against the couch at the smooth slide of the other man's hand against him. "Jesus fuck, you're so fucking perfect. So good, fuck!"

Gaz gave a chuckle at his babbling, his eyes watching him carefully as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock. "I was thinking," he started innocently, tightening his hand. He waited a moment, watching Jackson's glazed over face and the adoration in his eyes with growing amusement, "Are you paying attention, baby?"

Jackson nodded rapidly, his mind blank as his mouth hung open. Gaz was the only thing he could pay attention to at the moment. His hips jerked just a bit as Gaz slowed his strokes, running his fingers lightly over his shaft for several moments.

"I think," Gaz smiled at him, "That I want to ride you. Right now. What do you think?"

"Yes, yes fuck, holy shit, please," Jackson babbled out, his entire face dusting pink as he watched Gaz. "Do whatever you want oh," his head tilted back as Gaz started jerking him off quickly again, "fuck, fuck, whatever you want, darlin'. Whatever you want!"

Gaz gave him a toothy grin, "That's what I like to hear." He surged forward to connection their mouths in a sloppy kiss again. When he pulled back, spit was slicking both of their lips. "No touching until I say so, yeah?"

Jackson nodded wildly. Gaz could have asked him to shave himself bald in that moment and he would have said yes. Whatever the man wanted and he would do.

Gaz was quick to pull his hand away, climbing off of him. Jackson gave a whine, but that was soon cut off into a moan as he watched Gaz discard both his pants and underwear before climbing back on top of him, sitting over his thighs for a moment as he leaned his face down close to his cock.

Jackson watched him in confusion for several moments before another moan was torn from his body as he watched Gaz let spit fall from his lips to land over his cock. Gaz spread the spit down his length while grinning at him, quickly shuffling back up his body to hover himself over his cock.

Jackson didn't even have a chance to mention that Gaz hadn't been prepped when the other man started sinking down on him. Gaz was tight and warm, but there was something else. He was already slick. Already slick and already stretched.

Jackson realized with a groan as Gaz continued sinking down onto him, "Fuck, you planned this didn't you? Fucking tease."

Gaz gave a laugh between his moans, his hands fixing themselves on Jackson's chest for support. "Took you this long to realize that?" They both groaned with delight when Jackson finally bottomed out, Gaz fully seated on his cock as desperate little breaths pulled from his lips. There was a flush laying over his skin and Jackson took the chance to admire him through the haze of pleasure that threatened to crowd his mind.

After a long moment, Gaz lifted himself up slightly before slamming back down on Jackson's cock, pulling a groan from both of them and causing Jackson's hands to fly to the man's hips, trying to force him to move again. Gaz wasn't going to let that happen though.

Before Jackson could even register what was going on, Gaz had his hands pinned above his head, his face hovering close to his as he gave a smile, "No, sir. I'm in charge right now. Remember? No touching until I say so." With that, the man rolled his hips once again.

Bonus! Roach (Roach/Jackson):

Jackson held Roach to the bed with one hand, his other making quick work of his belt as he stared excitedly at the form of his naked friend in front of him. Roach's entire face was red and that flush ran down his body temptingly. It drew Jackson's attention to his friends cock, already hard and dripping.

The younger man was already prepped, Jackson knew that without looking. After all, he'd walked into his new room to find Roach with three fingers inside of him already, working himself open just for him.

Finally he managed to get his belt undone. He didn't bother taking it off, just like the rest of his clothes. He was too eager to get inside of his friend, too eager to fuck him just like Roach had told him he was allowed to.

"Fuck Sanderson," he finally managed to get the button and zipper of his pants undone. He pulled his half hard cock from his underwear, not bothering to pull anything down more than he needed. He wrapped a hand around himself, giving himself several slow teasing strokes to work him up fully. He admired the way his hand looked pressed against Roach's neck, "If this is the present I get for being promoted, I'll be a fucking five star general by the end of the month."

Roach squirmed under his gaze,trying to get some sort of friction to himself. Jackson watched the movement with glee, "Could probably just get off looking at you like this," he pressed the man further into the bed, "Wouldn't even touch you, just look."

Roach gave a whimper, "Paul!" His hips jerked up, "No, c'mon!"

"Ah," Jackson gave him a wicked grin. "What do we say?"

Roach gave him a pout, "Please!"

"Please, what?" He leaned closer to Roach with a grin, letting his cock press against the younger man's thigh, "C'mon, you know what I want to hear."

"Please, Sergeant," Roach grabbed at his shoulders, tugging him closer, "fuck me!"

Jackson grinned at his friend before lining himself up and quickly pressing inside the younger man in one quick move. They both gasped at the feeling, Roach scratching at Jackson's shoulders for purchase as Jackson grabbed tight to Roach's thighs with both hands, pulling him closer.

He gave him only a few moments to adjust before his hand was returning to Roach's throat, holding the man in place as he began to fuck into him quickly, the sounds of skin slapping skin ringing through the small room.

Jackson set a rough pace, delighting in his friends desperate gasps and moans as he fucked him into the bed, the springs of the old frame squeaking dangerously. He paid them no mind, his hands quickly beginning to skate appreciatively over the body under his.

"Fuck, you been hiding all this from me, Sanderson?" He grabbed Roach's hips in a bruising grip, increasing his pace as he continued wringing pleasure from the both of them, building it up in their veins.

He changed his angle after a moment, grinning wide when he heard Roach yelp and felt him arch against him, his hands clawing into his shoulders. Jackson slammed into him over and over, abusing his prostate with hard quick thrusts.

"Paul, Paul!" Roach babbled out, his eyes rolling back as his mind was taken over with the feelings of hot pleasure panging in him mercilessly. He grabbed tight to Jackson's hair, trying to tug him closer to him as he continued, "Too much! Fuck too good."

Jackson was quick to put a stop to Roach's yanking hands. He grabbed the man, slamming his hands to the bed above his head with one hand before grabbing his throat with the other. His hips continued moving as he leaned down to press a hot kiss against Roach's mouth. When he pulled back he spoke, "Take it, I know you can. Go on, baby, take everything I give you like the good little toy you are."

No what, you guys are the one who wanted me to write the 141 being pinned down, not me 🙄

I definitely had no desire to abuse this and write Jackson smut thats craaaazy

[fixfoxnox]

Saw one of the memes you posted and..

Dragon!Ghost/Roach/Soap!!!?!!!!?!

:)))))

Please do share

:)))))

Yes!!!! I've been having lots of monster au ideas since they've started getting popular in the fandom (more ideas than just this lol) and my brain was like "monsters + fantasy 👀👀"

So essentially the idea is that Ghost and Soap are both Dragons. They are a mated pair and are mostly happy with their little horde and little castle, but both feel like something is missing in their bond.

However, both of them operate under dragon logic of "hey, fate will handle it :)" so they've not gone looking for what/who is missing from their bond and they really just stay cuddled up together in their little castle.

Enter a small army from a very powerful kingdom. The army are marching back from a victorious war and come across the castle while both Soap and Ghost are gone hunting. They break in and steal from Ghost and Soap's horde without realizing they are stealing from dragons. They return to their kingdom.

Soap and Ghost get back and find that things have been taken from their horde and they can smell humans all over their home. They are pissed so they follow the scent to the kingdom and they essentially come down to the king and queen and say "hey, give us our shit back plus a gift as an apology or we are going to terrorize your kingdom :) you have three days to think about it then we'll be back :)"

So this entire kingdom is panicking and trying to figure out what they're going to give these dragons as a gift to satisfy them. And the thing about this kingdom and this king and queen is that they have a lot of children. Five sons and seven daughters. And one of those sons, their youngest son, is a little guy who goes by Roach :)

And Roach is kinda a forgotten gem of the family. Since he's the youngest son he has no responsibilities in the kingdom, he was never into the typical princely activities of sword fighting (though he is quite good at it), and in general he just passes under the radar in his family.

Compare that to his older brothers who each hold important places in the kingdom. One is the heir, one is the general of the armies, one has been elected to the royal council, and the other is known far and wide as the best swordsman in the land. Then there are his sisters, each of them beautiful and smart. So desirable that they have men traveling far and wide just to get a look at them.

So Roach really does fly under the radar of his family, but he is rather well known by the people of his kingdom. Particularly because he can often be found sneaking out of the castle to explore the town or run off into the nearby woods to explore and see new sights. And when Roach learns that the dragons are resting in the forest nearby? He is immediately sneaking out to try to get a peek at them up close.

He sneaks out into the nearby woods and hides his scent as best he can before following the tracks. He ends up coming across Soap and Ghost resting together in a clearing and he is taken aback completely by how beautiful they both are. He knows he shouldn't stay for long, lest he get caught, but he can't help just just watch them for a time, absolutely amazed at both of them and feeling an odd pull in his chest to go toward them.

Eventually though, the sun starts to go up and he realizes he needs to get back to the castle before someone realizes he is missing. It might take his family a while to notice his absence, but his servants certainly would realize quickly. So he's scrambling back to the castle as quick as he can and he doesn't realize that as he starts to leave, he wakes up Soap and Ghost.

Soap and Ghost don't see him, but they can smell him and they know immediately that whoever was watching them is meant to theirs. Whoever it was is the missing part of their bond. So they follow the scent back to the castle and they realize that whoever it is must work there. They leave and essentially plan to kidnap whoever it is when its their time to leave the kingdom.

Meanwhile Roach's family have been trying to figure out what to give the dragons as a gift and their daughters are the ones to suggest that they give the dragons one of them. The stories are prevalent all over of Dragons taking Princesses as part of their hordes. They aren't fully truthful, but Roach's family doesn't know that. All of his sisters essentially are like "we will do what we must for the safety of the kingdom" and its settled that they'll let the dragons pick one of them to take.

So Ghost and Soap show up after the third day has passed and the entire Royal family is there, lined up to show respect to the dragons. Soap and Ghost can smell Roach, but they can't quite pinpoint that its him because his scent is muffled under perfumes.

So Roach's family give them back the gold and treasures that were stolen from them plus some, then his dad, the king, steps forward and is like "We deeply apologize for the insult to both of you. You have our word that it will never happen again and, as a gift for treating this insult so civilly, we offer you one of my children. Take your pick and they will be yours, we will take no action to retrieve them and they are yours to do with as you wish."

And Soap and Ghost are lowkey kinda offended because its so obvious that these humans are basing this choice after those stupid stories of dragons taking Princesses as part of their horde and they are a little offended by the stereotyping (despite the fact that they know like 3 other dragons with princesses as parts of their hordes/as a part of their bond.)

But when they go to bend down to tell the king and queen as much they stop because they're finally able to catch a good smell of that scent again and they both realize two things very suddenly:

1) the smell was coming from one of the Princes

And

2) the king never specified that they had to take one of his daughters. Only that it should be one of his children.

They don't even have to talk to each other before they are both like "oh wow what an amazing gift we accept this offer graciously"

The king and queen are all beaming grins and they're like "Have your pick!"

And Ghost just kinda immediately goes forward and snatches up Roach while Soap gathers up the treasure from their horde. And all the family are like "😦🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️"

Meanwhike Ghost and Soap are like "K, cool, thanks for our stuff back and the new boyfr- I mean gift! Peace ✌" and then they just take off with Roach and their stuff ajfnndndnfnjf

And Roach is just 😃 cause he has no idea what the fuck is going on but suddenly he's being brought back to Soap and Ghosts castle and being cuddled and told that he's theirs now and he's just like "yeah okay sure" cause lowkey these two dragons are good cuddlers and he's happier there getting to roam around the woods/castle than he was back home

Then you can add fluff and drama after that point of like Roach gains a reputation while he was away of being so beautiful that two dragons both "kidnapped" him (his family wasn't about to say that they'd been tricked out of their son sndbfbdbbd) and his family break their promise and essentially say "hey whoever can rescue him from the dragons will get to marry him" so now Ghost and Soap are having to defend Roach (all while huffing and puffing about becoming the stereotypical dragons defending a princess (prince) in a castle)

But then you also get Roach, Ghost, and Soap interacting with other dragon pairs/dragon human pairs. So we get Dragon Gaz with his human Prince Paul Jackson who he (actually did) kidnap and he comes over for a visit and turns out Jackson and Roach actually know each other cause their kingdoms were allies so Roach is like "Woah man I haven't seen you for years!! :D"

And Jackson is just "Yeah I got kidnapped! :D worth it for the dragon dick though :D"

Or you get Alejandro and Rudy where Alejandro is a dragon who fell in love with the peasant sweetheart of a small kingdom called Las Almas and he took him from the kingdom and, in return, defends it against bandits and raiders who are trying to destroy it. Alejandro is a very feisty and jealous dragon but he gets along with Soap, Ghost, and Gaz so he lets Rudy hang out with Jackson and Roach.

Then you have the older dragon bonded pairing Price and Nikolai who pop in to see Ghost and Soap's new bonded and lowkey get attached to him ("Aww look at him, thats so cute!" "He can't hunt for himself have the two of you been making sure to feed him 😥" "He asked me about my scales and let me talk about my horde for two hours we have to protect him" "don't cuddle him too hard Ghost he's delicate 😠")

And you can get some more dramatic stuff like a black scaled dragon called Makarov who see's Roach in the woods one day and takes a liking to him so he keeps trying to steal him from Ghost and Soap sndnnfnfnfjf

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND

[fixfoxnox]

We’ve seen the 141 react to southern food but what about Roach and Jacksons reactions to british cuisine?

Gonna say a quick thank to the anons who have sent questions involving Jackson y'all know I love him and I love getting to include him

Also before we start I should just say that I'm an American, so my knowledge of British cuisine literally extends to what I've seen in tiktoks and tv. So my apologies if this is horribly stereotypical or wrong, but also I'm an American so it's kinda a national like expectation to make fun of the British, just know its all in good fun.

How Roach and Jackson React To British Cuisine

First of all, before they've even tried anything I know these two are making fun of British food just based on what they've heard.

Roach jokingly replies "fish n chips" in a terrible British accent any time Ghost asks what he wants to eat. Soap lowkey thinks its hilarious but tries to hide his laughter.

(He always fails and Ghost always gets mad at them)

Jackson sends random ass like wack foods he see's online to Price and Gaz like "was this something you ate as a kid?"

One day sends Gaz the recipe for like raisin meat salad or some shit and is like "reminds you of home huh"

So its obviously only a matter of time before Jackson and Roach are forced to actually try some British food by the British.

The first time that Gaz or Price or Ghost looks one of them in the eyes and says "thats it, I'm making you try a Chinese" I think they die a little inside.

Both of them sitting patiently at a table as the boys debate on what to make them. Ghost suggests beans and toast and I think both Roach and Jackson have a little southern heart attack when they're brought out beans on plain bread.

Roach literally can't eat it because of a texture thing with the soggy bread (me too babes) but Jackson tires to power through it

He tries it and Roach swears up and down that Jackson actually starts to cry but Gaz swears that they were tears of joy (they weren't)

They try some other things, and that goes a bit better, but overall Jackson and Roach generally aren't impressed by most of the foods.

Jackson asks at what point which seasonings they used on the food and when Gaz answers back "salt" he dies a little inside (the poor man is from Louisiana you know he's sobbing)

Eventually the British Boys are just like "okay well you know what, fuck them what could we give them to make them gag."

They try black pudding

Immediately disappointed when, upon hearing what it is, Roach and Jackson don't flip out and instead try it perfectly fine

"This isn't bad. Could be a good way to use more of the animals during hunting season"

"Wonder how hard it is to make"

At the end of things, Jackson and Roach decide that the best of the dishes was the full English breakfast and they invite the boys to make it for them again, though Jackson warns he'll be adding more than salt the next time they make it

Then, Jackson, ever the evil man, suggests that he should share some Cajun food with them next.

Roach, despite knowing it may kill them, doesn't say a word

[fixfoxnox]

Pyre - Part 4

Description: The 141 do some research into Gary Sanderson

Warnings: Mentions of burns and murder

Read it on Ao3

"Take me to an

Alternate world

Alternate age

Alternate life"

"Alternate World" by Son Lux

Roach checked over his bag again, making sure that he had everything properly stored in the most effective way possible. He didn’t have much, but he’d need to be able to get to his things quickly so that he could create his setup and get to work without any sort of delay. Time was precious during missions like these, so he needed to do as much prep as he could before leaving.

“You have everything ready?” He had to ask again. His hands were shaking just a bit and he needed to hear it in hopes that it would help to calm his nerves. He knew it wouldn’t do much, but even a little would help to keep him focused.

There was a brief clicking over the phone before Jackson answered back, “Locations of both of the missiles, tracker out on Hassan and your 141 boys, and the document about Shepherd and Graves. It’s all set up.” There was a brief pause before Jackson asked, “And you? You have everything that you need?”

“Guns, radio, disposable phone,” Roach was quick to zip up his weapons bag, “It’s all here.”

“I don’t like you going out there alone,” Jackson spoke carefully, almost as though he was afraid to voice his concerns. Roach knew it wasn’t fear though, less fear and more frustration. Frustration that he couldn’t help more than he was.

“I’m not alone,” Roach assured, “I’ll have you in my ear. What more could I need?” Silence permeated the air for several moments. Roach sighed, he knew his friend still wasn’t happy with it. Jackson never liked Roach going on missions on his own, and he especially wasn’t happy that Roach was taking on these last few by himself. They both knew how dangerous these last few missions were. They both knew how this would end. “Jackson, I’ll be fine.”

“I still don’t like this. I should be out there with you. Not stuck here behind a computer screen.” Roach could hear that Jackson had clenched his jaw and the truth behind what he was saying was palpable. He could hear the anger that caused his friend’s voice to shake as he spoke. Roach swallowed down the guilt that rose up in his throat. After all, if he had been more cautious, if he’d trusted himself, his friend might not be stuck in a wheelchair behind a desk in the middle of nowhere.

Roach took a moment to think before responding, he needed to make sure that he spoke properly. He wanted to make sure that he was making sense. “If you weren’t on the computers, half of this wouldn’t be possible.” He took in a careful breath, “I’d probably have been caught years ago, what you’re doing is just as important, crucial, and dangerous as what I’m doing. Okay?”

“Roach-”

“I need you in my ear, Paul,” He didn’t let him finish, he just kept pressing forward. “I need someone guiding me like you do. Don’t sell what you do short.” There was a short pause that hovered between the two. Roach knew that what he said could never fully change how Jackson saw what he did. He knew he’d never be able to truly make the other man understand how important he was, not when Jackson’s mind was constantly telling him that he was never enough. Roach just wasn’t good enough to help his friend in that way, they were both too fucked up to do much more than comfort the other in the moments when they could. So that’s what Roach tried to do. He did his best to comfort the other man.

Jackson gave a sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I’m sorry, I just worry.”

“I know,” Roach spoke carefully, “But it’s okay. Me and you have got this, okay? We’ve had three years of practice, it’s time that we put it to good use, yeah?” He finished closing up his last bag and pushed it away from him on the table. “How’s looking through Crownover’s laptop going?”

“Good,” Jackson was quick to answer, his voice once again focused. Roach could still hear a bit of that frustration in it, but it was nothing like what it had been. “I’ve managed to extract some information regarding Makarov’s future plans, it’s just a matter of letting the program look through them and ping anything important. Outside of that, I’ve managed to connect to the phone and laptop Makarov has been using to contact Crownover. Hopefully, that will give us a bit more information on what he’s up to.”

“That’s good,” Roach stood from his seat and walked over toward the small window in his hotel room. Pulling the curtain to the side revealed the bustling streets below him. His eyes scanned the crowds of people quickly. Las Almas was certainly an interesting place. It wasn’t every day that one could watch men with masks and guns walk so freely down the streets with smiles passed to them by the citizens. It just told Roach why exactly Hassan had chosen the Las Almas Cartel. Whoever their leader was, they were damn good at keeping things under their control. “Do you think you’ll have what we need by the time I finish here?”

“I can’t be too sure,” Jackson responded. “I hesitate to say that things are looking positive for it, we both know something could happen and send us packing back to square one. I’m cautiously optimistic.”

“Cautiously optimistic,” Roach repeated, a small smile pulling at his lips. He let the curtain fall shut, “I like that.” He gave a stretch upward, a deep sigh pulling from his throat as he did. He felt exhausted, more so than usual. It wasn’t hard to figure out why, stress was a powerful emotion, and coupled with the healthy dose of anxiety he’d been wearing on his shoulders since the moment that he’d nearly died again three years back, well… he’d never exactly been a poster child for mental health.

There was a long moment of silence that held between the two. It wasn’t awkward and it wasn’t harsh, it was just quiet. Their usual moment of peace that they only seemed to be able to find in the silence of the world around them. Roach couldn’t help but wonder if that was one of the reasons that he found what he did so easy. Torturing people and killing them was the price to pay for silence. Silence and safety. Roach would pay whatever price he needed to for that.

“Roach,” Jackson trailed off and, for a long moment, he said nothing. It was like he was thinking. “You’re sure that you want to do this? I mean really sure?” There was a long pause, “You know this is it right? You’ll never be able to go back once we do this. You’ll never be able to get to… well, you’ll never have them again.”

Something in Roach’s chest stuttered at the words. A hand seemed to squeeze at his heart and, for a moment, he allowed himself to consider the question. Jackson was right. If he did this there would be no going back. He thought of Simon. He thought of Captain MacTavish. He thought of the two men that he’d been dreaming of seeing again, of knowing again.

He had several memories that rose to the front of his mind. Fighting, glares, and silly spats of jealousy forced Roach to keep Soap at arm's length. He’d wanted more from the man, he’d always wanted more. He wanted to be closer. He loved Ghost though. He loved Simon and Simon didn’t want Soap. A part of him ached for Simon. A part of him cried desperately to return to the home that he’d made for himself in a life that was ended with fire and gasoline and a makeshift pyre in the middle of Russia. He’d chosen Simon, he’d chosen Simon every time that he could and part of him would never regret it. Another part, the larger part, would always regret it.

He’d changed since his first life. He’d put so much thought into who he was and what he wanted from the new life that he’d been given the chance to live. He’d thought, with burns covering his arms and plaguing thoughts of revenge bouncing around his mind. He’d thought as he listened to the man that he loved fall for someone else, fall for someone he’d once loved. He’d thought as he fell for Soap again. He’d thought as he decided that he couldn’t just have Ghost. He’d decided that his new life, that any happiness he would gain from the world he’d found himself in would have to come from both of them.

But…he couldn’t have either of them. They were in love and he’d made a promise. So, his happiness would just have to come from their safety. From their happiness.

“I’m sure,” he answered quietly. “We’re already this far. I’m not backing down now. And you?”

Jackson didn’t hesitate, “I’m with you. Always.”

It was said with a strength and conviction that Roach had come to expect from his friend. Something about that sent another wave of guilt over him. Jackson wanted to help, but at the end of the day, it was still Roach dragging him into this mess. It was still Roach who wouldn’t allow the man to rest. He hated it and a part of him hated himself just as well.

“So,” Gaz ran a hand over his face before shaking his head, clear disbelief showing through his widened eyes, “just to make sure we understand. You went out for food and ended up having a personal conversation with the fucker who killed Graves?”

“I didn’t know he was the one who killed Graves,” Soap snapped. He tugged a bit at his hair, pulling just to the point that it would sting. He wanted to keep yanking at it, maybe tug a few tufts out just for good measure, a bit of punishment for him not seeing through the other man. He resisted the urge and instead just glared at the little leather journal on the table in front of him. “It wasn’t like he opened with, 'Hi, I’m Gary Sanderson, the guy who killed your friend. Anyways tell me about yourself.' And he didn’t seem suspicious either!”

“You’re telling me,” Gaz raised an eyebrow at him, “that nothing seemed off? There wasn’t even a moment where you questioned why he was talking to you. That’s wonderful, Soap.”

“He didn’t ask me anything about the team!” Soap shot his friend a glare, “If he had of course I would have questioned him, but he was just a regular guy who seemed like he was being nice! We didn’t talk about anything related to work, I swear!”

“Then what did you talk about?” That came from Ghost. Soap just glanced at him for a brief moment, a splash of panic running through him. Of course, he couldn’t air out any of his problems to his boyfriend, but he’d had no issue airing them out to the man who’d killed Graves. The thought had him looking back to the little journal sitting on the table.

“We talked about me,” he answered quietly. He paused for a moment before he added, “He was, uh, giving me some advice.”

“You got advice from a hitman?” Rudy’s voice was flat. Soap shot him a quick middle finger.

“Yes, you know what, I did!” He threw his hands up, “Shoot me! I was upset and he was nice. And you know what, he actually helped. Isn’t that fucking something.” His words went quiet at the end and he gave a groan before burying his face in his hands again. Tears pricked at his eyes. The man who killed Graves was one of the first people to actually help him figure out ways to deal with himself. He was one of the first people to make him feel less insane for how vulnerable he was. Soap hated the thought.

There was silence for several moments and Soap knew that he was being watched. He could feel the eyes of the team watching him carefully and he didn’t dare to look up and meet their gazes. He didn’t need to see their disappointment in him. He already knew. He had already blamed himself more than they likely ever could.

Finally, there came a deep sigh. Price’s voice cut through the silence, kind but authoritative, “Right. Let’s all take a moment to think this over. This wasn’t Soap’s fault.”

“Captain-”

“No,” Price cut Gaz off quickly. Soap slowly peeked out from his arms to watch the man. Price gave him a quick glance before continuing, “If any of us were in Soap’s situation, I doubt we would have put two and two together. Sure,” he gave Soap another glance, “maybe we wouldn’t have asked him for advice on personal matters, but we certainly wouldn’t have known who he was.”

Soap could feel his face heat up a bit, but he was thankful for his Captain’s words. He understood that he’d fucked up. He understood that and he didn’t need the team drilling it into him. It was nice to have at least one person give him a little bit of slack. “Thank you, Captain.”

Price gave him a slight nod before continuing. “Now, what we really need to be doing is figuring out what information Soap got from Sanderson. Whether he knows it or not, Sanderson likely let something slip during their conversation.”

“You think he’d let his guard down like that?” Gaz questioned. He sent an apologetic glance in Soap’s direction, Soap understood it was an apology for how harsh he’d been. Soap waved him off. He didn’t blame Gaz. He blamed himself.

“If he was trying to make himself come across in a non-murderous way, then I would say yes.” Price crossed his arms over his chest, “Common for people like that to include truths about themselves in their lies. Makes things easier for them to remember.”

“Well,” Alejandro was the one to start, “we know he isn’t in Las Almas anymore.”

“We knew he’d leave,” Rudy commented, “No reason to stay in Las Almas once you’ve hit your mark. Better to get out as soon as possible and move on to the next hit.” He glanced around at the group, “Shepherd I assume.”

“Shepherd has shadows working as his security detail,” Ghost spoke, “he should be fine for the next few days, at least until we can get to Washington and protect him ourselves.”

“Right, so we know he’s no longer in Las Almas and he’s going after Shepherd next.” Price turned to Soap, “Is there anything else. Anything you noticed, something he said, anything like that.” There was a pause as Soap tried to think, replaying his entire interaction with the man in his head. “Anything Soap, no matter how small.”

Soap hesitated for a moment, but something came to the front of his mind. A small glance at marred skin. “He had scars, bad ones. At least on his arms and hands.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Though I think they might have been more extensive than that.”

“What kind of scars?”

Soap looked to Ghost and shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He took a moment to think, “They were raised and pink and just all over from what I could tell.”

“Burn scars,” Ghost’s voice dropped into something low, as though he hated to even say the words. After a moment, he added, “If I had to guess. That’s what I’d say they were.”

“His file does say that he was executed before his body was burned,” Rudy was the one to chime in, “Maybe he skipped the execution but not the burning.”

Something in Soap grew sick at the idea. Of course he’d seen the scars and of course he’d read the file while waiting for the team to get back from destroying the missile on the oil rig, but he hadn’t connected the two. Something about knowing what they were likely from, knowing that Sanderson had been in the fire, that the flames had burned his skin bad enough that he would wear the marks for the rest of his life…it made him physically ill. It sounded too familiar. He didn’t understand why, but he hated it. It filled him with an anger that he didn’t think he’d possessed.

“Didn’t Graves say something to Roach before he died?” Rudy was the one to speak, “I burned your fucking body in a ditch? Was it?” A thick tension fell over the room, but Rudy didn’t let it stop him from voicing what he knew everyone had been avoiding, “Maybe Sanderson’s file is wrong. If Graves was the one who burned him, it gives him reason to want the man dead.”

“Graves’ report from the mission says that he didn’t ever get to meet the men he was supposed to work with,” Gaz spoke quietly, glancing over at Soap as he did. Soap was frozen. “You think he lied?”

“Well,” Rudy looked around the room, “it doesn’t seem like he had much justification to go into the town prior to the kidnapping of Sanderson. What gives him better motivation than the kidnapping and murder of two marines?” Rudy crossed his arms over his chest, “None of you are going to want to hear this, but Graves seemed the type to do whatever he thought was necessary to get his job done.” He shrugged, “Maybe that included killing one of his own.”

Soap didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe that Graves would be capable of something like that. They’d been friends, they’d worked together for years at that point and Graves had been nothing but a good soldier and leader to his team. It shouldn’t have made sense that he would do something like that. It shouldn’t have made so much sense. But that was the problem, it made too much sense.

Graves had always seemed to take the extra step. He was always the first to volunteer when it came to getting down in the dirt, to lowering himself to the same methods that their enemies used. Everyone else knew it was necessary at times, but there was a line. There was always a line. Soap had often wondered where Graves’s line was. At times, he’d even wondered if the man had one. If what Rudy was suggesting was true…well, he supposed that he couldn’t be too surprised.

There were questions that came with it though, questions that he didn’t know if he’d want the answer to. If Graves had been willing to betray his own…what would it have taken for him to betray them?

“We’ll keep it open as a possibility,” Price answered after a long moment. “But I won’t declare one of our own a traitor without some sort of hard proof to back it up.” He looked around the group for a long moment before turning his gaze back toward Soap. “What else?”

“I um,” he gave a lame shrug, “I don’t know. He was really vague, made sure not to really talk about himself much.”

“So you didn’t get any information about him other than his name?”

“Well,” Soap reached forward and grabbed the leather journal from the table with a huff, “that and apparently he journals. He gave me this so I could try it out.” He gave a sigh, letting his thumb trail across the leather on the front cover as he waited for a response from the men. There was nothing for several moments, only silence. When he looked up, he could see his entire team watching him like he’d lost his mind. “What?”

“Gary Sanderson, the man we’re looking for, just gave you a journal?” Gaz was the one to ask, “And you still have it?”

“What?” Soap tightened his grip around the little journal and looked between the group, “Why not? It’s a perfectly good journal.” He paused for another moment and continued looking around at everyone, “It’s not like he could hide a tracker or a bug in it! And it was empty when he gave it to me, there’s nothing that tells us anything!”

“Let us look at it,” Price crossed his arms, “Maybe we’ll notice something you didn’t. Good to have several sets of eyes.”

The words only made Soap grip tighter to the journal, tucking it close to his chest. Though he’d only had the thing for less than a day, he already felt protective of it. He’d written and drawn things in there that were for his eyes only. It was meant to be private, a safe space for him to get out what he needed to. “No. There’s no reason to look in it.”

“Soap,” Ghost’s voice dropped into a warning tone, sending Soap’s head shooting toward him.

“I said no,” his words came out a bit harsher, he didn’t like the way that Ghost had spoken, the way his voice had dropped into something more reminiscent of the way an owner would talk to a dog. He wasn’t a dog and Ghost wasn’t his owner. “Don’t any of you trust me? I would have seen something. There’s no reason for any of you to look at it.”

“Soap, this isn’t up for debate. That’s officially part of this investigation and one of us needs to look through it.” Price leaned against the table, fixing Soap with a serious look. It briefly reminded Soap of being a child, of his parents staring him down with that look of disappointment, telling him they weren’t mad at him even when he could see it on their faces. “You choose who looks through it, but one of us has to.”

Soap paused for a long moment. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice, Price was right. Whether he liked it or not, until it was checked, his journal was now a part of their investigation. He had to let someone look in it.

His first thought, as it usually was, was Ghost. He trusted Ghost, he loved Ghost. But, there was the problem. His little journal had already been used to rant about the issues he had with the man. The feelings that he could never get close enough. The worry that he would never be able to break through those thick walls that the other had. He couldn’t let Ghost read that. If he did…he knew things would change. He imagined he’d be sent right back to square one. It would hurt Ghost if he chose someone else, but he figured it would hurt the man more if he was allowed to read it.

He thought about letting Gaz look through the little journal, but he knew the other. He knew that while Gaz wouldn’t say anything, he would want to talk about it. Gaz was a good friend that way, similar to Soap, he picked up on the things that would bother others and offered comfort when he could. Gaz wouldn’t say anything to Ghost, but he wouldn’t let Soap go without discussing the things he’d written. Soap appreciated his friend, but he didn’t want to try to explain anything to the man.

His gaze turned to Price. His captain. Price took care of his team. That was his job and he was damn good at it. Soap had recieved a helping hand from the man more than once and he’d grown closer to him over the course of his time on the team. He knew Price and he knew that, even when concerned, Price wouldn’t pressure him. Price wouldn’t push. Because, while Price’s job was to take care of his team, he trusted his team. He knew they were all capable. He knew they could all take care of themselves. He didn’t treat them like children or fragile little mumps who needed him to keep them from doing stupid shit. He treated them like his peers who occasionally needed to be scolded when they tried to hide shit or lost their heads. They were soldiers and Price was their leader. He offered his support, but never pressed. It made him easy to talk to, easy to approach, easy to trust, and easy for Soap to make a decision.

He held his journal out to Price, dropping his gaze to the ground. “Just get it over with, Captain,” Soap muttered, defeat in his voice. He didn’t want anyone to read his journal, but he knew that if someone had to, Price was the one it needed to be. There was a short pause before Price reached forward and took the journal in his hands.

Price was careful, his hand gently cupping the leather as he undid the strap that held it closed. Soap appreciated the kindness in his movements. Price flipped to the first page in the journal, then the next, his eyes sweeping across the pages. He swept over the quickly scribbled words showing nothing on his face until he got to the most recent page.

He paused for a moment, his hands freezing and his gaze pausing. He glanced up at Soap only briefly, the only reaction he gave to what Soap knew he was seeing. It was the drawing of Sanderson, the one that he’d started to work on so that he wouldn’t forget the man’s face, so he could carve it into the back of his eyelids if he needed to.

He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong by sketching Sanderson, especially when he hadn’t known who he was, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He knew his intentions in drawing the man. He knew he’d done it to remember him, to mark the curves and lines of him with his pencil so that he could keep him in his memory. He’d done it in an attempt to satisfy the odd longing that had ignited in his chest with the man’s presence.

He shouldn’t have. It was wrong. He had Ghost and Ghost should have been enough to fill the longing in his chest. Ghost should have been enough to keep the longing from being there in the first place. And yet he felt that longing. He felt it so strongly even now, even as he knew who Sanderson really was and what he’d done. Soap couldn’t understand why, because he knew that Ghost was enough for him. He knew that Ghost was enough and he reminded himself that he hated Sanderson. He hated Sanderson for what he’d done to Graves. For what he’d done to his friend.

Price flipped through the rest of the journal rather quickly, the other pages being completely blank in comparison to the first few that he’d already filled out. Just as he’d expected, the man hadn’t found anything and after a few minutes of flipping back through the pages just to be sure, Price handed the little journal back to Soap with a nod.

“It’s clean.” He gave Soap a quick glance, a knowing look in his eyes. Soap was quick to turn away, desperate to avoid any sort of acknowledgment of what he’d written and drawn inside the little journal. Soap tucked the journal into his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Right,” he cleared his throat and looked around at the rest of the group, “I don’t think there was anything else. At least nothing that I can remember.” He took a moment, tugging at his hair again, frustration pulsing through him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ghost moved closer to him and, though his voice stayed that same tone that he usually wore, Soap could feel the reassurance the man was trying to give him. “You didn’t know.” Soap gave him a small smile, guilt clawing at his chest.

“Right,” Alejandro crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention toward Price. “We know Sanderson has left Las Almas. Our missile was destroyed so we can assume the information given to your delta force was good. So,” he looked around at the group, “where do we go from here?”

Price gave a deep sigh and for a moment things were quiet. It was clear to see he was thinking, weighing their options and trying to figure out what would be the best move for the team. Soap couldn’t imagine the pressure that the man must have been under at the moment. One of their own was dead and another was threatened. Things were tense and they all knew that one wrong move could place them at losing someone else.

“Right,” Price stood up straighter and turned to face Alejandro, “The team and I are going to leave, tonight. I know its a lot to ask, but would you be willing to lend us transport?”

“Of course,” Alejandro stood up straighter, his brows furrowing, “but where are you going to go?”

“Shepherd?” Gaz guessed, his eyes glued to Price. Like usual, he was waiting for an order from the man, ready to follow whatever he decided.

“No,” Price shook his head, “not yet. We’re making a stop first.”

“Where at?”

Price turned toward Rudy, “Rodolfo, Sanderson’s from Tennessee, right?” Rudy gave a quick nod. “Can you get me his family's home address?”

“Of course.”

Price gave him a quick nod before turning back to the team. “Pack up your things and meet at the airstrip. We’re going to do some research on Gary Sanderson.”

Soap was on a plane. That in itself wouldn’t have been odd, afterall, that was where he’d been when he’d fallen asleep. On a plane headed toward Tennessee with the rest of the team. No, what was odd wasn’t that he was on a plane, it was the type of plane that he found himself on.

It was older, he didn’t have to be a genius to see that, but it reminded him distinctly of the types of planes that they would use for missions. The ones that they would drop from and the ones that would eventually become their exfil. Soap imagined this was exfil. After all, the exaustion weighing on his body never came before a mission.

He was sitting on the floor of the plane, stretched out to help the aches in his bones. Aches he wasn’t used to. This version of him, this dream version, he was used to them. His hands moved without him telling them to, one of them tapped a pen idly against his thigh as the other massaged one of the aches on his upper thigh. All the while his eyes were locked across the plane, watching someone closely.

That someone was none other than Gary Sanderson, the very man that he and his team were after. There was a brief moment of panic that hit him at the sight of the other, but he was quick to brush that off. After all, this was a dream.

He watched Roach closely, observing the other with careful soft eyes. Affection coursed through him, affection and a sense of knowing. Roach was tucked into himself, a helmet and goggles discarded next to him. Soap took the time to admire him, his eyes sweeping over the red that dusted his cheeks and nose. He was biting his bottom lip, his brow wrinkled as he scribbled in his journal. It was hard for Soap to look away from him, he was just too…him.

Roach was cold, he was tucked into himself and his jacket as he glared down and scratched marks onto a little journal in his hands. For a brief moment, Soap considered offering his own jacket. He ran like a heater, always had, so despite the cold they’d just escaped from and the cold that continued to perrmeate the little plane, he knew he’d be alright. He didn’t offer though. After all, he could imagine how upset Ghost might be if Soap brought his boyfriend back from a mission wrapped up tight in his gear.

He let a sigh escape his lips at the thought. He knew it was the right choice to make, but it was frustrating. He couldn’t even do something simple without being accused of harboring feelings for his sergeant. It didn’t matter if it was the truth or not, he could be kind without there being some sort of secret intentions behind his actions.

His hand twitched at his side and he briefly considered pulling another cigar from his vest. He’d already waster one on the mission, unable to save it because he’d forgotten to bring his usual storage tools. He couldn’t waste another, he’d have to wait until he was back on base. Still, the thought of it was a tempting one.

He pushed his mind to think of something other than the villa claras in his vest. Instead he turned his attention to the little journal perched on his knee. He’d been working on writing out his thoughts on the mission, trying hard not to make every one of his notes about Roach. It was hard and he’d forced himself to twist them into comparisons. He’d been reminded of his first mission with Price and, though this wasn’t he and Roach first mission together, it was one of the few that they’d ever taken on just the two of them.

He looked back down at his last note, the one about Roach’s skills with a snowmobile. His lip quirked up a bit at his last note about the Sergeants future in snowcross racing. He was still impressed with Roach, especially when the Sergeant had nervously told him once they were safe on the plane that he’d never driven one before. Soap should have expected it, but the bump of anxiety in his chest at Roach’s words had certainly not been pleasant. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Roach hadn’t had a natural talent for the thing.

He stared at the rest of the blank space on his page before glancing back up at where Roach was still zeroed in on his own journal. It was the first time that Soap had ever seen it. He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the younger man had taken inspiration from him. He decided to add a note to his last sentence.

“Afterwards, saw the SGT. writing in a journal.”

He paused for a few moments, staring at the words as his mind drifted with the sound of Roach’s frantic scratching. It reminded him a lot of when he’d first gotten his own journal. Frantic writing and notes about what to work on next, how to improve, where he’d gone wrong. A small smile crossed his lips, Roach was better than he’d been when he’d first joined the SAS. It wasn’t odd to say, after all, Roach was in the 141 and had been working for years now. Soap was still a relatively fresh face when he’d written about his first mission.

He’d been naive then. He’d been hard on himself. He knew he still was, but back then he’d expected himself to be much better than he was. He’d wanted to impress Price and Gaz and the other members of the team. Price had especially been a motivator for him.

His captain, the man who’d saved his life numerous times. The man who’d sacrificed himself so that Soap’s current team could escape. Soap modeled himself after Price, all the way down to the cigars. He thought back to that first mission, to Price pulling him up from where he’d been dangling over the edge of a plane, ready to drop down and dissappear into the waves with the firey remains of the ship they’d just been on.

Price had grabbed him and pulled him to safety. Soap thought about the recent mission, about his quick save of Roach when the ice had broken under him. He thought about how he’d pulled Roach up to safety. He wondered if Roach was looking at him with the same stars in his eyes that he’d looked at Captain Price with.

“Wonder if he’s thinking about PT like I was.”

He paused for another moment, his eyes trailing toward Roach. He itched for a cigar. He traced Roach’s face with his eyes again, memorizing the angles of his face in the same way that he knew Roach had been watching him earlier when he’d been smoking that cigar. The same way that he knew Roach had watched him when he first joined the team.

Soap wasn’t an idiot. He knew that time had long passed. He knew Roach’s attentions had gone elsewhere. He knew he’d lost his chance before he even knew he had it. Still, he though of cigar smoke and Roach’s eyes on him.

“If he’s wondering what villa claras taste like.”

Soap woke with a start. Confusion pumped through him, an odd sense of longing following behind it. Just as he’d felt when Sanderson had left, it was as though a piece of him was missing. A piece of his chest next to his heart ached longingly.

He took a moment to come back from his dream. It had been an odd one, but it felt real. It felt so real. Part of his brain seemed to roll its eyes at calling the thing a dream. It wasn’t a dream, his mind spoke, it was a memory. Soap knew it wasn’t a memory. It couldn’t be.

He didn’t know Sanderson before the man had killed Graves. The two were never teammates. And, Soap furrowed his brows and closed his eyes for a long moment, he’d never had feelings for Sanderson. Certainly not feelings that would have opposed Ghost. It just wasn’t possible, he and Ghost were a pair and they’d never squabble. Especially not over someone that neither of them knew. Someone who had killed one of their friends.

A hand landed on Soap’s thigh and for a brief moment his mind fell back into that dream. His mouth formed the letters of Sanderson’s callsign before his eyes shot open and his head shot to the side. He met Ghost’s concerned eyes with a gnawing guilt forming in his chest. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with himself.

Ghost watched him carefully for a moment, his eyes scanning across his face in that analytical way that told Soap he was thinking hard about something. His eyes shot away from his face for a moment and Soap knew he was looking toward where Price and Gaz were quietly chatting. He was gaguing to see if the two were watching. A part of Soap was dissappointed by that. Of course it mattered who was watching, Ghost wasn’t ready to be more open and that was fine. Really, it was.

It was just hard to see it at times. To know that sometimes the affection he got was dependent on who could see them. Soap knew it wasn’t the case, but it felt almost like Ghost was ashamed of him.

Finally, Ghost’s eyes found his again. “Everything alright?”

Soap cleared his throat and looked down to where Ghost’s hand rested on his thigh. He lightly traced a finger over the tops of Ghost’s hands, using the feel of the other’s skin to clear his head. “Odd dream is all.” He tilted his head before asking, “How close are we?” He didn’t want Ghost to ask further about his dream. He didn’t even want to think about the dream himself.

“Price says anotther hour at least,” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing, “What type of dream?”

Soap kept his eyes facing down, his fingers still tracing patterns onto Ghost’s hands. He clenched his jaw for a moment before releasing the tension there. “How long once we land? I’m sure we’ll have quite a drive.”

“Soap,” Ghost’s voice was stern, but not unkind, “what type of dream?”

“It’s nothing,” Soap pulled his hands away from Ghost and focused his attention forward, trying to shut himself off enough that the other would leave him alone. It was a bit unfair, but Ghost had done it enough to him that he felt like he was justified in his move.

There was a long tense pause that sat between them before Ghost gave a deep sigh, frustration clear to hear in it. “Alright, we need to clear the air.”

Soap glanced toward him, confusion flooding his chest, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re upset with me.”

Soap turned to look at him fully with those words, his eyes wide. “I’m not mad at you,” he answered quickly, “I just don’t want to talk about my dream.”

“This is more than the dream,” Ghost spoke quietly, his voice meant for Soap and Soap alone. “I know you were upset about not going with the team after the missile.”

He clenched his jaw at the words, looking away to try to hide how the reminder upset him. Yes, he was upset about the situation, but that was less because he didn’t get to go and more because he knew that it meant the team didn’t think he could handle it. Anyone would have been upset in his situation.

“There,” Ghost’s voice held just a smidge of amusement, just enough to make Soap feel that much more frustrated, “I can see it on your face. You aren’t too good at hiding your feelings, Johnny. You know that?” There was another pause and Soap just resoulutely kept his gaze away from Ghost. “I’m sorry.”

That brought Soap’s attention flying back to Ghost. He met the other’s gaze through his mask and took a moment to blink at him in surprise. “You’re,” he hesitated for a moment, “you’re sorry?”

“I am,” Ghost gave a quick nod and his eyes softened through the mask. “I was worried about you and, though I don’t regret you not going on the mission, I recognize why you were upset by everything and that we shouldn’t have side lined you like that.” He paused for a moment, his eyes trailing over Soap’s face again. Soap sat, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t exactly the apology that he’d wanted, but…it felt good to have it.

“Thank you,” Soap took a moment to himself to think. He thought back to the words he’d written in his little journal already before responding, “I’m sorry too. I know I over reacted, you guys were just looking out for me. I was just…worried. I felt like if I wasn’t there, something bad was going to happen.”

Ghost reached forward to take Soap’s hand in his own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb comfortingly. “Soap, you know what happened to Graves, it wasn’t your fault. Talking with Sanderson, you couldn’t have known it was him.” Soap looked down, disbelief running through his veins. He felt cold. He felt like what Ghost had just said was wrong. He couldn’t tell the other man that.

Instead, he lied. “I know.”

It looked like Ghost wanted to say more. It seemed like he wanted to continue. He didn’t, instead he just pulled Soap’s hands closer to him, giving as much comfort as he could with his touch.

“This feels wrong,” Soap barely muttered the words, but they were loud enough that the team could clearly hear him. He could tell by the glances that were sent his way from each member of the team. “I mean these people think he’s dead.”

“And we’re not going to tell them otherwise,” Price responded, looking at him through the rearview mirror of the van they’d rented. They’d been parked in front of a little two story house for nearly an hour, just waiting for the people who lived inside to turn up. Only a few moment’s prior and they’d had their wish, just with a few more people than they’d expected.

There had been the two they’d come to see. Then four more adults, Soap hadn't recognized them. Then the children. They’d come bounding out of cars, rushing toward the house with excited shouts. Three from one vehicle, four from the other. The entire family was there, they’d only been expecting two. Soap didn’t like it. He didn’t feel good about it.

“Remember,” Price pulled the key from the ignition, turning the vehicle off, “we’re here for research. We’re a panel for post mortem medals. Do not give any indication of anything else. They can’t know. We can’t trust them.”

Price gave one last glance to Soap in the mirror before he opened his door and led the way for the rest of the team to follow after him.

They walked in a group, each of them dressed in the best that they could find on such short notice. Soap stayed tucked to Ghost’s side, finding comfort in the other man’s presence. He didn’t feel good about this, but Price was right. They needed intel. They needed research. This was the place to start.

Price was the one to knock on the door. A simple strong three taps, classic military. Soap wondered if the people inside had paused, if memories of a previous three taps had flooded their minds. He felt sick at the thought, a pressure rising in his throat. He didn’t like that they were bothering these people. He didn’t like this.

The door opened several moments later to an older woman, gray streaked her blonde hair and she had smile and laughter lines along her face. She gave them a warm smile, looking between the group of four with curious eyes. Soap could see the concern on her face, but she hid it well. As though she’d grown used to hiding her feelings.

“Can I help you boys?”

“Carol Sanderson?” Price tucked his hands into his pockets and gave her a small smile. Soap wondered how he could smile at this woman. How he could pretend to be so casual knowing what they knew. What they wouldn’t tell her.

“That’s me,” the woman confirmed, her brows furrowing, “what can I help you with?”

“My name is Captain John Price and these are my associates, Sergeant Kyle Garrick, Lieutenant Simon Riley, and Sergeant John MacTavish.” Soap watched Mrs. Sanderson’s eyes move along the group, pausing with momentary suspicion on Ghost before returning to Price. “We’re a part of a committee that works to honor fallen soldiers and their families. We were hoping to speak with you about your son, Gary Sanderson.”

There was a pause and, for a moment, it was like all of the light had been knocked from Mrs. Sanderson’s body. She tilted forward and Soap jolted forward just slightly, worried for a moment that she was going to fall over. Her face was frozen into the smile she’d worn before Price had spoken, only now her lips seemed to tilt down. The sight was one of grief. They could all clearly see the grief she was feeling.

Soap watched as she grabbed tight to the doorframe for support, he watched as her hands began to shake and her smile seemed to fade more. He watched as the facade that she’d been wearing faded for a moment, long enough to allow them a glimpse into the truth of the pain behind her carefully crafted mask.

It didn’t last long, just long enough for them to get a glimpse. Then, just as quick as it had started, it faded. That look was gone and in its place was a soft smile and kindness. “Our Gary? Please, come in.” She stepped aside, motioning for the men to step into the home.

Price entered first, then Gaz, then Ghost. Mrs. Sanderson’s eyes followed Ghost as he stepped inside. Soap followed after him, unable to pull his gaze away from Mrs. Sanderson. His conscience wouldn’t let him. She caught his gaze as he passed and, for a moment, he felt frozen in place. It was as though he’d been shot. He was quick to turn his gaze away and move further into the house.

“Honey, who is it?” A man’s voice called from the other room.

Mrs. Sanderson shut the door behind them before quickly stepping over toward a little entry way to what had to be a dining room or kitchen, “It’s some people from the military. They’re here to talk to us about Gary.”

There was a long tense pause before the sounds of scraping chairs could be heard. A moment later and an older man was stepping into the little living room, a tense sort of smile on his face. Two other men stepped into the entry way of the kitchen, watching the members of the 141 with not at all disguised suspicion.

“Mr. Sanderson I presume,” Price held a hand out to the man, “Captain John Price, my men and I are from a committee focused on honoring fallen soldiers and their families.”

Mr. Sanderson only glanced at Price’s hand before reaching up to pull a pair of reading glasses from his face. He folded them in his hands before looking over the group, “Little late for that, isn’t it? It’s been three years.”

Price retracted his hand and gave the man a friendly smile, “We don’t work on time constraints. Instead we speak to other soldiers and get names from them after we get a chance to work with them. We just recently worked with Sergeant Griggs and his Demon Dogs, who we heard about your son from.”

“Ah,” Mr. Sanderson still didn’t seem wholly convinced, “So is it just our son then? Or will you also be speaking with Paul’s family?”

“Paul Jackson,” Price acknowledged, “yes we do have plans to speak to his family as well.” Soap had to admire Price’s skill, how quickly he’d picked up on the test that Mr. Sanderson was extending.

“And what is it exactly that your committee does?”

That question came from one of the men in the entry way. The shorter of the two, this one more openly glaring at the group in comparison to the other. Price met him with a polite smile as well, not letting any sort of hesitation show on his face. “We share their stories and toward the end of the year gather the families for a ceremony where we give post mortem medals for the soldiers and their sacrifice.” He paused for a moment before politiely asking, “And the two of you are?”

“Johnathan Sanderson,” the taller and more calm of the two responded first. “This is my little brother Eddie. We’re,” he paused for a moment, “we are Gary’s brothers.”

“Ah,” Price looked between the group, “Apologies, if we had known it was a family gathering, we would have waited.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Sanderson waved him off and motioned toward the couch. Ghost, Gaz, and Price sat, but Soap stayed standing. “This just means that there will be more people who can tell you about Gary, right?”

“Right,” Price pulled a little notebook out of his pocket and a pen soon after. He was quick to flip to an open page. “We’re just going to ask some questions about Sergeant Sanderson, what he was like, maybe some stories if you’re willing to share.” He paused for a moment before adding, “We may also throw in some harder questions. More emotional. If you can’t answer them, that’s completely fine, we understand that when you lose someone like this, the grief doesn’t just go away.”

“I’m sure you do,” That came from Sanderson’s father. He carefully moved to the couch, taking a seat next to his wife and motioning his sons further into the room with a tilt of his head.

After a short moment, the four members of the family were gathered on the couch with the members of the 141. There was clear distrust coming from two members of the family, but Price clearly wasn’t shaken by that. Once again, Soap found himself impressed with the man’s ability to stay calm under the circumstances.

“Why don’t you just start with telling us a bit about Sergeannt Sanderson, anything you’d like for us to know.”

“Gary was a sweet boy,” his mother was the one to speak, immediately jumping on the opportunity to speak. “He was always so bright, so ready to move on to the next thing.”

“So ready to get out of here you mean,” Johnathan chimed in with a small smile. “He was more than ready to leave when he joined the military. After he joined we didn’t see much of him, he stayed busy.”

“He called a lot,” Mrs. Sanderson shot her son a brief glare, “and he liked coming home!” She shook her head before turning back to the group with a soft smile. “He, uh, he was best friends with the man he died with. Paul Jackson. Paul was like a son to us, he and our boy, they were really close. Gary was always more relaxed when Paul was around, more excitable. He seemed like he was really starting to enjoy life during his last few years.” She cleared her throat and Soap could see the way her eyes had gone glassy. It was clear that she believed her son to be dead.

After a moment she gave a watery laugh and shook her head. Gaz took that as his que to ask another question. “While he was working, he seemed to like his job? Like all the people he worked with?”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Sanderson waved him off. “Gary adored his job. He was dedicated, very dedicated. It always seemed like he was waiting for something, though. You know the only reason he joined the Demon Dogs was because of Paul, I think otherwise he would have stayed right where he was. Something about waiting for the right opportunity. The right people to ask him.” Her eyes trailed over to Ghost then and for a moment, she just looked at him.

Soap knew he must have looked odd to her, still dressed in his mask. There was something else though, some other sort of thoughts that were clearly plaguing her. Soap couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that she was thinking.

“And um, the last time you spoke to Sergeant Sanderson? Can we ask about that?”

Mrs. Sanderson’s attention moved back to Gaz and Price, her face falling a bit as it did. Soap turned away from her. He couldn’t bear to see her face. Not when he knew that her son was still alive. Instead he focused his attention on the room around him.

It was a cozy little living room, filled with knickknacks and pictures. His eyes went to the pictures, scanning over images of the family sitting behind him. Mrs. Sanderson. Her husband. Johnathan. Eddie. Then there was him. Gary Sanderson.

He looked…innocent. Soap didn’t know what he’d expected out of a child, but it certainly wasn’t the hesitant brown eyes that stared back at him. Sanderson looked nervous. He looked like he wasn’t sure of himself. He looked happy though. He was looking up at his brothers with excited eyes. He looked at his parents with a cautious sort of love and affection.

“It was a few days before we got the news. He called us to catch up, one of his neices had just been born, he wanted to see her. We video called. Paul sat in on the call, helped Roach out with the computer. He was always good with technology, thats what Roach said at least. We just talked.”

Soap’s eyes trailed over to another picture. Sanderson was older in that one, a teenager if Soap had to guess. He looked clumsy, awkward, a lot like he had when he was a kid. His school pictures gave Soap the impression of one of those quiet kids who used to sit in the back of the class, doing anything in their power to keep attention off of them. Still…he looked normal. He looked happy.

“He seemed happy. They both seemed happy.”

Soap’s eyes finally trailed to a more recent picture of Sanderson. He knew it had been taken at least three years prior, but the face staring back at him was the same one he’d seen while in Las Almas, the one that had given him a journal and advice.

He stared at the picture for a long moment, just looking. Here he could see the differences between the man he’d met and the man that the people behind him knew. Sanderson looked…calm. He looked lighter. There were no scars on his arms. There was nothiing lurking behind his eyes, nothing that seemed to drag his shoulders down and add weight to his body. He was slimmer, but in a healthy way. One that told Soap that he’d been happier.

He didn’t like looking at the picture. He didn’t like seeing what once had been, what had existed before what he now knew to be a shell of a man. A man who was no longer happy. A man who had seen something. A man who, more than anything, his heart ached for.

“Alright Soap?” Gaz asked as they left the house, heading back out toward the van.

The other members of his team hardly seemed effected by the conversation they’d just had. Well, that wasn’t fully true. Soap had noticed the way that Ghost was holding himself, the heaviness to his shoulders. It was as though he’d remembered something in there. Soap had seen the snap of it while the Sanderson’s were talking, the way that he’d practically collapsed in on himself. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have been noticable. Ghost hid it too well. Soap wasn’t anyone else.

Soap just shook his head at Gaz’s question, “Let’s just leave. We have another long flight.”

“Hey!” Soap stopped in his place, turning with the rest of the team as they noticed Johnathan Sanderson running out to them. He stopped close to them and gave a casual smile, “I figured I would walk you out to your vehicle, good old southern hospitality type of thing.”

He motioned for the group to go forward and after only one look shared between them, they started toward the van, Johnathan following behind. Soap couldn’t help but feel nervous, a sort of odd buzzing forming in his veins. He doubted that this was normal southern hospitality.

“You know,” Johnathan started casually as they arrived at the van, “when we got the news about Gary, my mother collapsed.”

Soap stopped in place, his body frozen for only a moment. He locked gaze’s with Ghost, both of them staring at one another with the same look in their eyes. Soap didn’t think it would be possible for the other to feel what he was in that moment, yet one glance told him that he was. He turned slowly, facing Johnathan.

There was a moment of silence that passed. Johnathan’s face didn’t match his words. he just had a soft sort of smile on his face, one that reminded Soap distinctly of how Sanderson had smiled at him. “We were in the hospital with her, shock is what the doctors said.” He reached up to rub a hand across his face. “You know,” he gave a weak laugh, “there was a part of me that wondered that day if I was going to lose both my brother and my mother all at once.”

Soap’s chest felt heavy. Heavy and harsh, pain seared through his heart. He couldn’t imagine having been in the place of anyone in the Sanderson family.

“She was in a wheelchair at my brothers funeral, if you can even call it a funeral.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “After all, no body, no explanation. Just a box full of ashes and a “we’re sorry for your loss. He was a geat soldier.” That was the last thing I think any of us wanted to hear at the moment.”

“What’s the point of this,” Price asked quickly, taking a step closer to Johnathan.

“The point,” Johnathan’s smile dropped, “Is that my family has grieved. My mother was so depressed that my father considered checking her into a facility. Every Sunday, she puts out a plate at the table for my brother. Every time someone shows up to mention my brother or mistakenly send him some mail or even say his name, she grieves again. My point,” he looked between the group, “is that I do not give a shit why you’re here. I don’t know what you want or why you care about my brother so much. I know you aren’t who you say you are. I want you to leave my family alone. You understand?”

There was a heavy moment of silence that settled over the group. A tense feeling that didn’t seem to fade at all, no matter how the time went on. After a long moment, Johnathan’s smile came back. He reached out and gave Price a quick pat on the arm.

“Can’t wait for that award ceremony,” his words were dripping with sarcasm as he took a few steps backwards before turning and starting back toward his house. “Have fun on your flight to Louisiana. I assume that’s where your going. You know, since you plan to bother, sorry, talk to Paul’s family too.”

He didn’t say anything else, just continued on his way, leaving the team to watch after him until he’d made it back to the house and stepped inside. Even then, the team just stood for several moments, watching the empty front of the house.

Now that Soap looked at it, it was a sad picture. A house plagued by grief, even if they pretended they weren’t. Soap could see it all too clearly.

“What now, Cap.” Gaz was the one who finally broke the silence.

“Now we go to Shepherd.” Price motioned for the team to follow him. Soap gave one last long look at the house before turning to join the rest of the team in the van.

[fixfoxnox]

these ‘sounthern adventures’ with the 141 are amazing, imagining the 141 + Jackson and mechanical bull riding

Oh my God do you know how horny Soap, Ghost, and Gaz would be??? I'M IN LOVE WITH THE THOUGHT HOLY MOLY

141 With a Mechanical Bull

Roach's brother ends up saving up enough to expand his bar into something bigger

Which involves adding a bunch of new stuff and areas including a bigger bar area and a whole new mechanical bull (he owns one of those types of southern bars)

When the grand reopening is set to happen, he invites Roach and Co to come be his test group before the big day

Essentially it's like an adult family get together to let his family see the bar. He invites the 141 because they're essentially family at this point (two of them are dating his brother, Gaz is dating the honorary Sanderson, and Price has wormed his way into Roach's parents hearts (Roach worries he may be trying to fuck his parents but he can't make the accusation to anyone but Jackson))

They come in and Roach and Jackson are both immediately freaking out cause "YOU DIDN'T TELL US YOU WERE ADDING THAT" and they get so excited cause they're both chaotic and know how much flirting and teasing you can do with a mechanical bull

The 141 boys obviously know about mechanical bulls and stuff, but they do not understand why Jackson and Roach are both so excited about it

As the night progresses and they both have some liquid courage in their veins (and all of Roach's family but Jonathan have moved to another room) (they talked with Jonathan about their plans and he's chaotic enough to help his little brother get laid like this) they finally bring up the bull

They're like asking the boys to ride it with them and all of this stuff and the boys just do not understand why they are both so insistant

Its Gaz who drops a "can two people even ride that thing?"

Que Jackson having a moment of genius or insanity (probably both)

"Yeah! You know what why don't Roach and I show you guys what the big deal is"

Jonathan is wheezing as he watches Jackson and Roach get on the bull. They're facing each other much to Gaz, Soap, and Ghosts confusion

The boys do not understand what is happening or why Jonathan sounds like he's going to pass out from how hard he's laughing

They all get a sense that something is going on when Roach turns to them and is like "remember guys, its just the bull, not us" with a wink

Jonathan starts it and que literally any of the videos of two people on a mechanical bull together

The boys understand very suddenly why their boyfriends were so excited about that thing and within like a minute they're all flustered as hell and Soap is literally begging Jonathan to turn it off so that they don't have to watch anymore

Jonathan responds by throwing Jackson and Roach off of the bull while both of them are giggling like mad men

Gaz actually agrees to give the bull a shot with Jackson

He absolutely kills it (naturally) and by the end of their go Jackson is the one who's a flustered mess

Not so flustered that he can't take a cowboy hat off of his head and plop it onto Gaz's with a grin

Roach has another go at it by himself after Jackson and Gaz (who definitely sneak off together after that)

He still couldn't convince Ghost or Soap to do it with him, but he definitely makes a show out of it for the two men as revenge

Needless to say when he gets done he is dragged away by the two men as well sbsjsjsj

I am 100% working in a mechanical bull ride with Jackson and Roach into the camboy/streamer au

[fixfoxnox]

D&D Is Sexy (Gaz/Jackson)

Description: All that Gaz's boyfriend wants to do for his birthday is DM a short one-shot for the 141. Gaz doesn't expect to be turned on while playing a game he was sure he wouldn't like.

Warnings: Trans! Gaz, Unprotected Sex, Fluff and Smut, Clothed Sex (One clothed, one unclothed), Couch Sex, Fingering

Notes: For my darling @wmdamadeof

It was Roach who had finally convinced the 141 to sit down and play D&D with Jackson. Jackson had been begging for months, practically on his knees whenever the subject was brought up. According to Roach, Jackson hadn’t gotten to play D&D since he’d elected to leave the military because of his leg. If Gaz did the math for that, he’d say it had been at least four years since his boyfriend had played the game. 

He didn’t particularly understand why his boyfriend liked the game so much. He always spotted him watching or listening to one of those online D&D podcasts, and he just couldn’t get it. Sitting around a table, pretending to be someone else, being forced to do math (simple as it was, it was still math). It didn’t sound like an ideal evening or, based on how Jackson had described it, an ideal day. 

Still, it was clearly something that Jackson loved, something that he practically adored. Roach seemed to like it too, which was why he’d suggested that as a gift for Jackson on his birthday, they should all allow him to DM a short one-shot for them. It had taken some convincing, particularly for Price, but in the end, he’d given in just like the rest of them had. 

When they’d told Jackson, you’d have thought they had given him a billion pounds and told him that Gaz was lying on top of it all naked and covered in whipped cream. He’d looked like he was going to collapse on the spot and Gaz had noticed that he was shaking when he’d hugged him. It was only then that Gaz had finally realized just how important D&D was to his boyfriend.

It made the long process of designing his character and filling out the sheet feel a little less pointless. 

“You guys are going to love this,” Jackson swore for what had to be the fifth time since they’d all sat down at the table. It seemed more like he was trying to convince himself than he was them. They’d all agreed to, at the very least, pretend to enjoy themselves today. Gaz was reminded of that specifically when Roach shot them all a harsh look, silently telling them all to behave and put on their best faces. 

Jackson gave the group a general overview of game rules and encouraged them to ask any questions that they needed to as they went along. With that, he checked in to make sure that everyone was good to go before beginning with slow words, building an environment around them, and slowly introducing their characters into the mix. 

Gaz didn’t know that his boyfriend had such a way with words. Listening to him speak was like watching a spider spinning their web, an expert and intricate weaving of lines and descriptions that had even Price on the edge of his seat, waiting for what he would say next. What exactly would he do to their little characters next? It was as surprising as it was intriguing. 

They were at a banquet now. Their entire party had been captured and now they were chained to their chairs in some big fancy mansion. So far, Jackson had done nothing but set the scene for them. He painted a vivid picture of a large banquet table overflowing with their favorite foods. Their glasses were each filled to the brim with a dark red liquid. 

“Across the banquet hall, you hear the large double doors begin to creak open slowly. The wood scrapes the floor, adding to the noise of the room. It's a cacophony, echoing around in the silence. When the doors open fully, your eyes find a tall figure with short black hair. He looks like a charming young man and you each notice his beauty. He wears clothing similar to something that you would find from royalty.”

Jackson stood up taller then and his entire demeanor changed. It was rather impressive and Gaz watched him with curious eyes as he began to march around the table, watching them all closely.

“What a group,” he spoke after a moment. His voice carried a thick accent and was much deeper than Gaz had been expecting. “Such powerful warriors. All come to my banquet. I am quite honored.” 

“Who are you?” Roach hissed, completely in character. Despite knowing it was only his boyfriend, Gaz felt suddenly intimidated by Jackson. The look that he fixed Roach with was downright disgusted.

“Has it really been so long Talor? So long that you no longer recognize my face? My eyes?” Just as suddenly as he’d gotten into character and Jackson was out of it, he went back to describing the moment for them. “The air around you all seems to spark with energy as this man steps closer to Talor.” Jackson rounded the table and leaned close to Roach, getting right in his face, “Take a look.”

The two paused for a moment as Jackson wrote something out on a notecard, folded it, and handed it to Roach. The message was clear. “For your eyes only.”

Everyone at the table watched as Roach unfolded the paper, his eyes widening as he read what was written. A moment passed before he folded the note and glared up at Jackson. “It takes Talor a moment, but eventually realization goes across his face. Everyone can see as he tenses before he just goes,” Roach leaned forward against the table and bared his teeth at Jackson, “You!”

Jackson gave a short wicked laugh before leaning over the table again, “So you do recognize me, Talor. Good.” He pushed himself up and started to circle the table again. “New friends you have made.”

“Free us, now,” Roach demanded, “This will only cause trouble for you.” 

“The only thing that consistently causes me trouble, is you,” Jackson wheeled on Roach with a snarl. “You never learn, you never stop.” He slammed his hands down on the table and met Roach’s glare with a harsh one of his own. It was an impressive act by the two men and one that only served to draw Gaz further into the story that Jackson was crafting for them. “That is why we are here. So I can finally be free of you.”

Jackson pushed himself to stand just as Soap replied, “Free of him? You’d do best not to touch him or any of us and do as he says. Better for you if we all make it out alive.” 

Soap had been the member of the group who’d taken to the game the best, so it was no surprise that he joined in on the two’s conversation, his character voice near identical to his actual voice, only slightly deeper of course.

Jackson turned to him with a snap, a gleeful grin on his face. Gaz wondered how much of it was the character and how much of it was his delight at having a member of the 141 actively participate in the story he was telling. “Ah,” he stood up straight and made his way over to Soap, “The half-orc speaks. A monster made only for rage and yet…” He trailed off and came to rest behind Soap. He let his hands fall on Soap’s shoulder, giving a slow shake, “I sense…care. Do you fear for your friend Boyman?” 

Gaz was nearly taken out of the moment by the reminder of Soap’s character name, but he was soon brought back to it by Soap’s low growl, “I fear what I’ll do to you if you touch him.”

“I can sense it, I can practically smell the fear radiating off of you,” he leaned down, letting himself get right next to Soap’s ear before he responded, “Just as I can taste the love that you feel for him. Affection. Adoration. A beast in love with a beauty. Tell me, Boyman McFury, do you think that an elf, that Talor could ever truly love you?”

There was a pause and Gaz could see as Soap’s mouth fell open, his face going a tinge pink as though he’d been caught. It wasn’t a secret, everyone at the table had been able to tell that he was fighting hard for his and Roach’s characters to end up together. Gaz had even peeked over and seen him drawing little doodles of their characters together in his notebook. 

Jackson was an expert at crafting his story, so he gave Soap no chance to catch up and respond before moving over to Ghost. “And you, Ravencroft. Do you believe that your gods will protect you from me? Protect your friends? Everything you have built for yourself. You believe you know loss? I will show you loss.”

“You will die before you touch anyone in this group,” Ghost only responded in a monotone voice, but it was clear that Jackson was pleased with even that response.

“Won’t I?” He reached over then, placing a hand on Price’s shoulder, “I already have. And you sit here powerless. Useless.” He turned his head then, looking at Price with a raised eyebrow, “How does it feel to be powerless Captain? Once the commander of a great army and now,” Jackson fixed him with a look of disgust and removed his hand from his shoulder, “Now look at you. Pathetic. Captain Jonathan Pearce is a folk hero. A god. Look now how a god falls.”

He pushed himself away from the table and started to pace around again, only stopping for a moment when Roach asked, “What are your intentions here, Adzeiros? You think you will kill us with ease?”

“Yes,” Jackson answered simply. He continued moving around the table and after a moment came to a rest behind Gaz, his hands landing softly on Gaz’s shoulders. “I intend to kill you all. All to finally rid myself of your stain Talor.”

“My friends have done nothing!”

“They have aligned themselves with you,” Jackson’s hands tightened on Gaz’s shoulders and, for a moment, Gaz could feel a chill go down his spine, “That is enough. I will rid myself of all of you. Tear you limb from limb until I can feed your worthless meat to my dogs. I will be the death of each of you.” He paused for a moment before, “Well, perhaps most of you.” Gaz felt one of his fingers begin to trace up his neck gently and he felt himself go warm. “Perhaps I will keep one,” Jackson leaned down and Gaz could feel his breath against his ear and the warmth of his lips only inches from his skin. He felt overwhelmingly hot for a moment and goosebumps seemed to raise along his skin. “I have other, more pleasurable, uses for you.” 

As soon as Jackson had touched him and he’d gone, lifted back up to move on with the story, detailing to the group as the tall elf exited, leaving them alone to try and find a way out of their binds. With it, Gaz felt as though he’d been left on an edge, left high and dry with a boiling desire flooding through his bloodstream all to pool between his legs. 

He hadn’t known that his boyfriend could play a part like that. He hadn’t known that D&D could be so…sexy.

The so-called “short” one-shot had lasted the entire day. From ten in the morning to almost eight at night before they’d finally finished, killing Azdeiros and earning each of their characters a happy ending. Gaz had been sure that Soap was going to cry when Jackson had detailed the small homestead that his character and Roach’s character had built together to live in when they wanted a break from adventuring. 

Everyone had seemed quite pleased with the game and, by the end, even Ghost had gotten more involved, getting more into his character and the gameplay than anyone else. Jackson had even allowed Ghost to paint a vivid picture of his character using magic to crush a wyvern they’d been made to fight between two boulders. It had been rather graphic, but both Jackson and Ghost had been more than excited as they played off of each other to build the death for the creature. Jackson had excitedly told Ghost that he should try to dm sometime, that he had a natural talent for it. Ghost had shrugged it off, but they’d all seen the small smile that tugged at his lips from the words. 

And now, as Gaz waved goodbye to Roach, Soap, and Ghost from the door of his and Jackson’s shared apartment, the day was over. Gaz was left alone with his darling boyfriend who was still buzzing with energy from the day's activity.

Normally, Gaz would have questioned where his boyfriend found all of the energy, normally he would have been surprised to still see Jackson so chipper at the end of the night as he worked on removing his prosthetic to switch into his wheelchair. Normally, Gaz wouldn’t have felt such a strong buzzing of energy under his own skin, calling for the man he was watching from the doorway of the living room. 

“Well,” Jackson called to him, shooting him a quick grin as he set his prosthetic to the side, “what do you think? How was your first D&D experience?” 

Gaz gave him a small smile and crossed the room, picking up his prosthetic and moving it to the usual place for him. “I didn’t know you were such an actor, it was…impressive.”

“That?” Jackson gave a chuckle, “All roleplaying love. ‘Fraid I wouldn’t be able to do any of that in any other situation. Something about D&D, you know?”

“Not in any other situation?” Gaz questioned, turning around with a carefully raised eyebrow. “Nothing other than D&D?” He could feel his face warming up again, but he did his best to squash any of the nerves he felt back down into his chest.

Jackson watched him for a moment, tilting his head curiously. “What are you thinking?”

Gaz gave a quick shrug, trying to appear nonchalant as he spoke, “I just thought your…performance was good. I, um, I enjoyed it.”

A moment of silence passed between the two before a look of knowing seemed to cross Jackson’s face, followed by an easy grin. Gaz shuffled a bit as he watched his boyfriend lean back casually against the couch, spreading his legs wide in a position that was all too enticing. His hips lifted for just a moment, allowing him to get more comfortable in his seat. Gaz’s eyes were drawn to the movement, his mouth going a bit dry.

“Kyle, baby,” Jackson’s voice had dropped just a bit, going a touch deeper. It was something much closer to the voice he’d used for the villain of their campaign and Gaz found himself resisting the urge to squirm. Jackson watched him for a moment, a twinkle of delight in his eyes, “You must have really enjoyed my performance, huh?” His eyes raked down Gaz’s form and Gaz knew that he knew. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, feeling all too embarrassed at himself. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“What part of it got you?” Jackson gave him a teasing grin and tilted his head curiously, “The character? Or was it just me talking about using you for my pleasure?” Gaz could feel heat burning at his face and he glanced away quickly, refusing to meet Jackson’s eyes. “Maybe a bit of both?” 

“Alright now,” Gaz brushed him off and went to move toward the kitchen, “It’s late, we should get ready for bed.”

“Kyle.”

Gaz stopped in his place, turning slowly to face the other man, something warm settling into his bones as he met the low look that the other man gave to him. There was a short moment of silence before Jackson lifted a hand and quirked two of his fingers, motioning for Gaz to come to him. 

Gaz could feel his breathing stutter for a moment before he caught himself, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. His hands were still shaking as he obediently stepped closer to Jackson, moving until he was standing between the other’s parted legs. 

Jackson leaned forward and looked up at Gaz with low pleading eyes. One of his hands found Gaz’s hip, taking hold and rubbing soft circles with his thumb. For a brief moment, his fingers slipped below the material of Gaz’s shirt. He seemed to think for a moment before he spoke, “I have such pleasurable uses for you, my love.” 

Gaz could feel himself shake as Jackson’s voice matched that of the character he’d done earlier. It was so similar to his own, yet there was this tone to it, some sort of warm sultry touch that tainted every word and wormed itself into Gaz’s brain. “You,” Jackson began to tug Gaz toward him, “mean more to me alive. You are more than the others, worth more. Perfect. Beautiful. Enchanting.” He paused, “Made for my pleasure.”

Slowly, he guided Gaz onto his lap, forcing his knees to each side of his thighs and their hips to press just lightly against one another. Just that slight movement was enough to cause a hitch in Gaz’s breath, warmth curling in his gut as the words that Jackson spoke rushed right between his legs. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out, looking down at the look of pure confidence and smug amusement that his boyfriend wore. It was clear that Jackson was channeling some of the character that he’d teased Gaz with during the entire game and it was still working, still making Gaz warm and bothered and all too willing to do whatever Jackson asked of him. “What, um,” he let his hands rest on Jackson’s shoulders for a moment before beginning to trail them down over his chest slowly, “what do you want me to do.”

Jackson’s hands tightened for a split second before they guided his hips forward, encouraging him to grind their clothed bodies together. Gaz gave a small sigh of delight at the bit of friction against his aching cunt. He could tell that he was already growing slicker, the simple movement and words from Jackson were enough to have his body reacting without hardly any stimulation. 

“Just this,” Jackson continued guiding Gaz’s hips against his for several moments before he finally pulled back, spreading his arms over the back of the couch to relax back and watch Gaz with a smirk on his face. “Show me how much you want me, how you’ll do anything to please me. Then I’ll touch you.”

Gaz let his head fall back, a groan pulling from his throat at those words. He continued moving his hips, grinding down harder against Jackson and enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend growing harder against him. “Yes,” he breathed, his hips jumping a bit as the seam of his pants rubbed deliciously against his clit. “Fuck, yes. Yes.”

Jackson watched him with careful eyes, twinged with a bit of darkened desire that Gaz had never quite seen there before. It pulled a shiver down his spine and had his cunt pulsing with the desire to be filled. He was sure his boxers were going to be soaked by the time Jackson finally stopped torturing him and touched him. 

As Gaz rolled his hips again Jackson shifted, lifting his own hips up to meet Gaz’s movement. Twin groans fell from their lips, desire painting Jackson’s face as he let his mask slip just a bit. It wasn’t for long, only just enough to allow Gaz to see just how much his boyfriend was also affected by the little game that they were playing. 

“So perfect,” Jackson breathed. His hands caressed Gaz’s face before trailing down his neck and over his chest. They kept moving lower, only stopping as they reached the edge of Gaz’s shirt. “Take this off,” he growled after a moment, “I want to see all of what is mine.” 

Gaz didn’t think he’d ever stripped himself of his shirt quicker than he did at that moment. The useless piece of clothing was discarded with a toss, lost to the void until he went looking for it. As soon as his skin was exposed, Jackson’s hands were on him. 

Despite the possessive mask that Jackson had put on, his touch didn’t change. It was the same as it always was when he touched Gaz: sweet and reverent. Filled with so much adoration that it made Gaz feel dizzy. He adored it, leaning further into Jackson’s hands with a small groan, his hips stuttering for a moment. 

“Look at you,” Jackson muttered, his fingers tracing teasingly along the underside of Gaz’s pectorals, skating oh so close to his nipples but never touching. It was near torturous for Gaz, who was desperate for some sort of stimulation from his boyfriend’s hands. “So fucking perfect.”

“Paul,” Gaz panted the other's name, prepared to beg for what he wanted, “Touch me, please. I need it. I need you.”

“Ah,” Jackson pulled his hands away completely. Gaz gave a pathetic whine and sent his boyfriend a pleading look. When Jackson didn’t respond, he took one of his boyfriend’s hands in his own, trying to tug him forward to force him to touch. Within a second, Gaz found his hands restrained behind his back and his body flipped around. 

Jackson pulled him back, manhandling him until he was back on his lap, only now his back was pressed flush to Jackson’s chest and he could feel his boyfriend’s beard rubbing against his neck. It was enticing and more than enough to have him squirming in desperation. Now Jackson had taken all of the stimulation away from his aching cunt and he was near the point of getting to his knees and begging. 

“Remember love,” Jackson pressed a careful kiss to Gaz’s neck, “You’re here for my pleasure. Not the other way around.”

“But-”

“No.” Jackson's voice was harsh and Gaz found that he enjoyed his boyfriend being so firm with him. He never thought it would be something he would be into, never even considered it a possibility. But he assumed that the day was just a good one for discovering new things about himself. Like the fact that he quite enjoyed it when his boyfriend took such tight control. 

Jackson held Gaz in place for a quiet moment before he let one of his hands slip down to the waistband of his pants. He toyed for a moment with the top button before swiftly undoing it and allowing his hand to slip below Gaz’s pants and boxers. 

Gaz squirmed a bit in Jackson’s hold again, though Jackson still hadn’t even touched him, Gaz could feel his warmth. He was so close, his hand so close to where he desperately needed to be touched. Where his body was practically aching just for the man behind him. “Paul,” he pleaded again with the man behind him, adding a small whimper to the end of his words, “please.”

“You beg so sweetly for me.” Gaz gasped as he finally felt Jackson’s fingers touch his aching cunt. It was only a small caress, just a simple touch along his dripping slit, but it was enough to have his hips bucking up and his head tossed back against Jackson’s shoulder. His mouth fell open as Jackson dipped one of his fingers just inside of him before tracing them up to begin rubbing slow circles against his clit. 

He was panting, sweat slicking at his skin as Jackson made a point of touching him slowly, dragging out every bit of pleasure that he could from Gaz’s body. It was already overwhelming enough, but Jackson wasn’t satisfied. He let his free hands trace along Gaz’s naked chest for several moments before his hand found Gaz’s nipples and began to slowly play with them.

He teased them with careful flicks and pinches, all while his other hand continued to finger and tease at Gaz’s cunt, nearly making him cum just from finally having his pent-up fantasies from the day fulfilled. “So wet, love. Let me guess, you’ve been dripping like this all day for me.” Gaz could feel himself go impossibly hotter at the low words whispered into his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. My pleasure is your pleasure.”

“Paul, I,” Gaz cut himself off with a desperate gasp as Jackson slipped a finger fully inside of his cunt. Jackson’s thumb was still toying with his clit, but his finger was working slowly at stretching out his sopping wet hole, working to prepare Gaz to take his cock. “Fuck, fuck,” he whined a bit, “please, baby, I want to take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

“I will,” Jackson assured him, a soothing kiss pressed to his neck. “First I have to get you ready baby. Let me enjoy myself. Let yourself enjoy this.” He started carefully working a second finger into Gaz’s cunt, scissoring him open slowly as he did so. Gaz’s eyes nearly rolled back at the pleasure that struck him from Jackson’s hands teasing his body. The hand playing with his nipples was just as good as the hand playing with his cunt and all of it was swirling together to create a tightly wound tension just above his cunt that threatened to snap more with every growing moment. 

Gaz had no choice but to try and fight his shaking legs and desire to buck his hips into Jackson's hand and force the harsh pace that his body was desperate for. He could only toss his head back and hope that Jackson would take pity on his needy body soon. 

Jackson was hard himself and Gaz was sure that he could feel the other’s cock aching through his jeans. He could also feel the subtle thrusts of Jackson’s hips, a simple attempt to give himself some sort of stimulation to his cock as he stole pleasure from Gaz’s body. 

Jackson curled his fingers inside of Gaz for a moment, the whine pulled from Gaz’s lips was nearly sinful and it was enough to pull a matching groan from Jackson’s lips before he pulled his fingers from Gaz’s body and away from his cunt. He gave a quick slap to Gaz’s thigh before ordering, “Get rid of the rest of those clothes, unless you want them shredded.” 

Gaz wasted no time in following Jackson’s orders. He was too desperate to argue, much less feel annoyed at the implication that Jackson would destroy any of his clothes. They both knew it wouldn’t come to that, not when his thighs were damp and he was forced to peel his boxers from his body rather than simply kick them off like he normally would. 

When he turned back to Jackson, he expected to find his boyfriend working on taking his own clothes off. Instead, he found Jackson still reclined on the couch, his legs spread wide with his hand around his hard cock. He hadn’t bothered to take anything off, only unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear enough that he could free his cock. Something about that made Gaz shudder, a low gasp pulling from his throat as his breathing went heavy. 

Jackson watched Gaz for a moment, his eyes raking over him in a way that forced Gaz to resist the urge to squirm. Those eyes were filled with so much heat, so much lust. And, Gaz noted an enticingly sharp prick of possessiveness. He wanted that possessiveness carved into his bones, he wanted his body marked down to the molecules as belonging to Jackson. And Jackson knew it. 

Jackson stroked his cock for a long moment, his eyes never leaving Gaz’s body, even as precum leaked from his slit, he just made a point to spread it down his shaft while staring Gaz down. It seemed like his gaze was just glued to Gaz’s body. Gaz couldn’t make any comments about it, his own heated gaze stuck on the sight of Jackson working his hard cock. Gaz could feel his cunt clenching at the thought of finally having his boyfriend inside of him. 

Finally, Jackson raised a hand and motioned Gaz forward with two fingers, the same way he’d done it only ten or so minutes earlier. Gaz stumbled toward him, as though drawn with an invisible string connected to Jackson’s fingers. 

With Jackson’s guidance, Gaz settled back on his lap, neither of them able to tear their gaze away from the other. “That’s a good boy,” Jackson rumbled, helping to slowly guide Gaz down, rubbing the tip of his cock along Gaz’s entrance for a short moment. With a simple roll of his hips, he let the head of his cock slip inside Gaz’s body. 

Gaz struggled to breathe for a short moment at the feeling, but soon he was lowering himself down slowly, his breathing still heavy as he slowly sank down onto Jackson’s hard cock. Jackson did his best to guide him, gripping tight to Gaz’s plush thighs as they shook under his hands. “Fuck,” his head fell back just slightly, but his eyes stayed on Gaz’s face. “So good for me baby, such a good fuck toy for me.” 

Gaz could only whimper at the words, feeling his cunt clench around Jackson’s cock in response to the heat that they caused. Jackson gave a choked-out laugh at the feeling, that smug look returning to his face with something wild in his eyes. “Liked that, did you?”

Gaz didn’t answer, he just let his eyes fall shut as he finally managed to sink all the way down on Jackson’s cock. He was completely out of it, the feeling of being so full and his clit just slightly rubbing against the hair at the base of Jackson’s cock, was so fucking good. He was just reveling in the feeling when a harsh smack landed on his ass, causing his eyes to fly open as he met Jackson’s gaze with a shocked look. 

“I asked you a question.” Jackson punctuated his words with another quick roll of his hips, pulling a gasp from Gaz’s throat. “Answer me.” Jackson started to lift Gaz off of his cock, quickly setting a deep slow pace. His cock seemed to split Gaz open, near impaling him with a slow and steady pleasure. 

“Yes!” Gaz’s mouth seemed to work despite the white static flooding his brain. Pleasure rushed through his body. A consistent slow-building pleasure that buzzed through his veins and made his legs shake and his toes curl. “Yes, yes, Paul, please! Need, need- fuck, need you to use me, take your pleasure from me!” 

“I intend to, baby.” Jackson gripped Gaz’s bare hips tighter, fucking into him with gritted teeth and something akin to a growl ripped from his throat. His fingers dug into the fat of Gaz’s hips, hard enough that Gaz was sure there would be bruises decorating his skin in the morning. Beautiful blues and yellows and purples that would show Jackson’s claim on him. Painting him with his touch.

Jackson made good on his promise, guiding Gaz’s hips as he fucked into his tight cunt, groaning at the feeling of the other clenching and fluttering around his cock. Gaz did nothing but grip tight to Jackson’s shoulders and let himself be used. His mouth had dropped open and the only things he managed to get out were desperate pants and moans of Jackson’s name, dripping from his tongue like a sweet nectar. It only served to encourage Jackson to move quicker, fucking Gaz with greater desperation. 

Gaz was pushed closer and closer to his end, the feeling of his cunt being filled over and over and his clit being abused with every thrust of Jackson’s cock and every brush of the hair at the base of his cock against him. It was too fucking good. Too fucking good and Gaz wasn’t going to last. He was too pent up from Jackson playing with his cunt and now finally having the other’s cock bullying its way inside of him…it was too fucking good. 

Luckily for him, Jackson seemed to be stuck in the same boat because, before he could react, he found himself flipped to his back on the couch, Jackson’s body hovering over his as he began pounding into Gaz’s cunt, chasing his own release and driving Gaz closer to his own as he did. 

“So perfect for me baby.” Words spilled from Jackson’s lips like a fountain, praises for Gaz, compliments piled on compliments, desperate thanks for doing something as simple as playing D&D with him on his birthday. It was less of the game they’d been playing and more of the Jackson that Gaz was used to having pressed between his thighs. He adored it. He adored his boyfriend. 

Jackson made it much easier to adore him when one of his hands dropped between their bodies, frantically rubbing circles into Gaz’s clit. Gaz’s head knocked back at the feeling, his brain fizzing out as everything seemed to go higher and higher before finally coming down in a heavy crash, waves of pleasure flooding through his body as he shook and nearly screamed at the feeling. 

He was so far gone that he hardly noticed as Jackson cursed, his hips stuttered for several moments before he finally buried himself deep into Gaz’s cunt, filling him with warm sticky cum.

There was a long moment of silence, the only sounds echoing in their silent apartment being the sounds of their labored breathing. Neither of them spoke, but Jackson was soon to practically collapse against Gaz’s chest, letting his mouth and tongue explore the sweat-slicked skin beneath his touch. Sweet kisses and swipes of his tongue, speaking volumes of his affection for Gaz with the reverence that he touched him with. 

Gaz wrapped his arms around Jackson’s shoulders, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he pulled the other man up higher, bringing their mouths to just hover over one another’s. “Happy birthday, Paul.” 

Jackson responded with a simple, “I love you,” before pressing their mouths together in a slow sweet kiss.