#task force 141 x reader

[disasterofastory]

After a mission, you sit with the guys. They are still shocked by the fact that you managed to haul an unconscious Ghost onto your back and got yourselves out of the building before it collapsed.

Soap just stares, trying to figure out where the hell you are hiding the strength to lift a man like Ghost; all muscle and gear.

Gaz shakes his head. “It’s the adrenaline. Mothers lift cars to save their babies.”

You glance at your LT. His eyes say it all, but you say it anyway, grinning too.

“YOU ARE MY BABY”

Price is just tired.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 57: Reunited And It Feels So Good

Summary: Settling into your new lives isn't going as smoothly as you had hoped. Luckily Johnny and Simon arrive to save the day.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,000 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, threesome, oral, fingering, squirting, creampie, cum eating, slight choking but not really, crying during sex, dick so good 'mega passes out (only for a moment), Simon's big cock, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, alternate universe, angst, domestic fluff, language

A/N: Happy 4th of July! Celebrate with some smut with British men!! this chapter about killed me but I got it done! I did it! yay me!

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The bed shifting wakes you. The room is dark as you open bleary eyes, your arm reaching out and finding nothing but warm sheets. You roll over into that warm spot, pressing your nose into the pillow.

John.

He’s gotten up, likely to go to the bathroom. You settle back in, pulling the blanket up higher around you. Kyle is off somewhere across the bed snoring softly. You sink into the warmth John left behind, phasing in and out of sleep for the next two hours. The sky starts to lighten as the sun starts to rise, and sleep starts to evade you.

You let out a quiet breath, rolling back over. John hadn’t returned, the bed devoid of his presence while you slid in and out of a light sleep. A frown pulls at your brows as you decide to get up, quietly slipping out of bed to avoid disturbing Kyle. You slip on a robe before you leave the room, heading down the hall to the kitchen.

John isn’t there either, but there’s a mug in the sink. You start the coffee, letting it drip before you head to the back door, looking out at the yard. John is kneeling in front of one of the built in planters, pulling out weeds. You step out into the cool morning, quietly sliding the door closed before approaching him.

“You’re up early.” You say, coming to a stop beside him.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” He says, not looking up at you as he tugs another weed out of the dirt. “Thought I’d get up and be productive.”

Another frown creases your brow but you don’t push, instead looking at the row of planters. “You want to plant something this year?”

“It’s early enough in the spring we could.” He says. “Flowers or a garden.”

“It might be nice to have some fresh vegetables this summer.” You say, rocking back and forth on your toes. “Or flowers would be pretty. Liven up the outside while we work on it.”

“A garden will take more work, but it’ll give us something to do while we work on getting things set up for animals.” He says.

“Now you’re thinking about animals?” You say, raising a brow.

“I always was,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “I just know we have a lot of work to do before we can think about getting any.” He looks out past the end of the patio to where the green grass disappears down a small hill. It’s starting to get long. “The fence needs some work back there, and we’d have to renovate the barn out there. It’s in dire need of repairs.”

You hum, looking out at the distance before looking back down at him. “You’ve been thinking a lot this morning.”

He shrugs, going back to weeding. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

So much for retirement being relaxing, you think, but then again, it’s good that he’s finding something to do with himself. You know he’d be going stir-crazy if he didn’t have something to do. He’s never going to be good at sitting still, not until he has no choice.

You head back into the house, Kyle up and making himself some tea.

“Morning, love.” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He passes you a mug for your coffee. “How long has he been out there?”

You shrug. “Probably a while. I heard him get up earlier before it was light out.”

“Think he’s eaten anything?” He asks, tossing his tea bag in the trash.

“Probably not.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll start on breakfast, you keep an eye on him.” Kyle leans down to press a kiss to your lips before making for the fridge pulling out some eggs.

You take a seat at the table, hardly more than a card table with plastic chairs but it’s what you could get without committing to a full dining table yet. The couch and the bed had been the first purchases and now you were going to slowly accumulate more and more furniture over time.

You can see John out the window, still kneeling and weeding the planters. His brow is pulled in focus, gaze locked into the dirt. You’ve seen him like that before, the intense focus on his task, the drive to complete whatever goal he’s set out for himself. Some deep part of you is starting to feel a bit on edge about it, but at the same time, as long as he’s happy…

You go out to fetch him when breakfast is ready, avoiding stepping in any of the dirt piles laying on the concrete. “Breakfast’s ready.” You say, coming to stand beside him.

“I’ll be in, in a minute.” He says, not even looking up at you.”

You stand there for a long moment, waiting for any more acknowledgment but none comes. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning on your heel, making your way back into the house.

“He coming?” Kyle asks, setting out plates.

“He said he’ll be in soon.” You say, taking a seat at the table.

Kyle frowns, shaking his head. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll go get him.”

You watch Kyle step out the door, reaching for the eggs as he stops beside John, words passing between them before he walks back towards the house. John stays where he is for a moment before he gets up, brushing the dirt off his jeans before heading towards the house as well.

You try not to let it bother you. You really don’t want it to, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that John brushed you off so easily, but he listened to Kyle. They have a bond stronger than yours, different than yours. They’ve been through combat together, they trust each other on a level you’ll never achieve.

Whatever Kyle said, it worked. That’s what you should be thankful for.

John smells like dirt as he passes, going to wash his hands before he sits at the table on your other side. You’re already eating, shoving down your emotions with every swallow.

It’s quiet at the table, that prickle still in the back of your mind that something is off lingering. Your omega is picking up on something, but you don’t know what it is. You knew there would be an adjustment period, that things would be hard for a while, but you hadn’t really known what to expect. Maybe this is the start of it. Maybe it’s just the three of you trying to figure out this new dynamic, this new world. It’s new to all three of you, and maybe you just need some time to settle in. Maybe this tingling will go away with time, as the three of you settle more and more into this new routine.

You can only hope.

The days continue to get warmer and warmer, the three of you focusing your efforts outside. You did decide on a garden this year, or at least to try and get something established for coming years. John had jumped right into that plan, buying plants and soil and fertilizer and all the supplies you’ll need to get it started.

That deep feeling that something is off continues to simmer beneath the surface, reaching out its spindly fingers every time you wake to find John gone from the bed, every time you see him so knee deep in a task he forgets the world around him. He’s still waking early, your body becoming in-tune with his early rises. You wake when the bed shifts, blinking in the darkness, rolling into the warm spot he leaves behind, waiting for him to return but he never does.

Some part of you knew they’d wake early. Well, John would. Kyle has taken to his newfound freedom well, sleeping in later than even you some days. You had laughed about it being his body catching up on missed sleep over the years. You wished John would be able to do the same, yet he continues to wake before the sun.

You want to talk about it, but you’re not sure how to broach the subject. There will be push back. You don’t doubt that one bit. You’re just not ready for a fight like that yet. Things have been going so well. The last thing you want is to shatter this veil of domesticity that you’ve put together.

You manage to catch him one morning, when he’s slow to rise from the bed. You roll before he can push himself up, half asleep as your fingers wrap around his arm.

“John,” You slur, tugging at his arm. “Stay.”

Even half asleep you expect him to brush you off, tuck you in and kiss your head. He does hesitate, but then he gives in, climbing back into the bed. You snuggle up to him, giving him no chance of escape as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. You let out a content sigh, wanting to play out the dream of a lazy morning, waking in his arms as the sun rises.

You doze back off for a while, nose pressed against his chest, breathing in his scent.

You wake a couple hours later, still squished up against his chest. Kyle in his sleep has partaken in your master plan to trap John, rolling up against your back, his arm slung across you to rest against John’s hip. It’s warm between them, nearly stifling with the sun shining in the window, but you wouldn’t move if the world was on fire. You’re getting what you wanted, but at the same time, there’s a disingenuous feel to it all. John only stayed because you forced him. He’s likely only still here to avoid waking both you and Kyle.

He’s not asleep. You can tell by the way he breathes. You know him well enough to decipher the changes between his breathing, the tension in his body as he lays there with you. He likely didn’t go back to sleep at all, laying awake while the two of you dozed the morning away. He must be itching to get up, itching to do something with the morning besides sleeping it away.

Kyle wakes with a grunt, disappearing from behind your back as he pushes himself up to sit, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Gotta piss.” He mumbles, crawling down to the end of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

You lay where you are, fingers brushing John’s chest, drawing small patterns against his skin. “Thank you for staying.” You murmur, shifting closer against him.

He hums quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“I think you could have gotten away if you wanted to.” You say, pressing a kiss to his skin.

He lets out a sigh, rolling over until you’re pressed against the mattress under him. “And miss this?”

He has missed this. For days he’s been missing this.

You’d never say that out loud, though.

His face presses into your neck, breathing in your scent. Lips press gentle kisses against your skin, a content hum leaving your lips. Your hand sinks into his hair, neatly trimmed to your disappointment. There’s still time yet to convince him to grow it out.

You yelp as his teeth sink into your skin, pinching it between them. You smack his arm, trying to wiggle out from under him. “Rude!”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the skin he just bit. “You were thinking too much.”

You pout, tugging at his hair until his head lifts from your neck. “I always think too much.”

He hums, leaning down to kiss you. “You’re distracted this morning.”

“I’m distracted every morning, but you wouldn’t know that.”

It slips out before you can stop it, but he elects to ignore it.

He breathes against your lips, hips pressing against your leg. “You’ve been thinking too much this morning too.” You say, feeling the bulge in his sleep pants against your thigh.

His scent is thick in the air, projecting, though whether purposefully or not, you’re not sure. You’re no better than him, warmth starting to bloom between your thighs.

“I leave for two minutes and you’re already getting all worked up.” Kyle says, stepping out of the bathroom.

“We’ve been thinking too much.” John says, pulling back just slightly.

“Clearly.” Kyle says. “Don’t have too much fun.” He makes his way towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You ask, lifting your head up to stare at him.

“To start on breakfast.” He shrugs before leaving the room.

“Loser.” You say, flopping back onto the pillow.

“He’s just set on missing out, then.” John says, his hand resting on your stomach. “Hope he makes a big breakfast. You’re going to need it by the time I’m done with you.”

You let out a whine as his teeth nip at your lip, his hand sliding lower. Oh fuck…

Your legs are still shaking as you sit at the table happily nibbling on a piece of bacon. John sits beside you, sipping his tea and scrolling on his phone. Kyle is seated across from you, making quick work of his eggs and toast.

“Easter’s this weekend.” John says. “Simon and Johnny will be here Friday.”

“I’m shocked they’re not driving up Thursday night.” Kyle says.

“I’m sure Johnny wants to,” You say. “It’s probably Simon making him wait until Friday morning.”

“They’ll get here before midday.” Kyle says. “I’ll put money on that.”

“Johnny will have them on the road before the sun’s up. Lad’s excited to get here.” John says.

“He misses us.” You shrug, spooning eggs into your mouth.

“If it wasn’t for Simon, I don’t doubt he’d have retired too.” Kyle says.

It falls silent for a moment. Of course Johnny would never abandon Simon like that. He’s loyal to his alpha and he’ll follow him wherever he goes, no matter if it means splitting the pack up. You would have liked having Johnny here too, but at the same time, you’re glad Simon has him. The thought of Simon being alone in the barracks tugs at something in your heart. He’d do it, no doubt, but it would be a lonely existence.

“Do you think Simon will ever retire?” You ask quietly, piece of toast in hand, but you can’t bring yourself to take a bite.

“He’ll have to eventually.” John says. “The body wears down and Simon would never take a desk job.”

Or he’ll die in the field.

That truth remains unspoken, but all three of you know that risk. John and Kyle had lived it many times, and you had spent the better part of six months living that reality. Now you’re living it again. Even if the threat isn’t there for your entire pack now, it doesn’t lessen the worry you’ll always carry for Johnny and Simon.

“Do you think he’d ever retire for us?” You ask, voicing the hidden question you’ve had burning at the back of your mind ever since John announced his retirement.

John lets out a heavy breath. “That’s not a question I can answer,” he admits honestly. “You’d have to ask him that yourself.”

“So we’ll never know.” You say quietly, staring down at the last piece of bacon on your plate.

“Simon’s a complex man.” John says softly. “As much as I’d like to think I can, I can’t put myself completely in his head. There’s things he does that surprise even me sometimes.”

“It’ll be good to see them.” You say, cutting off the conversation before you can think too hard about it. “I’ve missed them.”

“So have I.” Kyle says, stealing the bacon off your plate, knowing you’re not going to eat anymore. Your appetite has been spoiled by the heavy topic of conversation. “I bet Johnny will cry when he sees us again.”

“Oh he’s definitely breaking down.” You agree.

“He’s going to cry, and then he’s going straight for the bed.” Kyle chuckles. “Your poor pussy is going to feel every day that he’s been away.”

You wince, squeezing your thighs together at the thought of how much she’s about to go through.

“Simon is going to be just as insatiable.” John says.

“We might as well sleep in the guest room on the air mattress.” Kyle says to John. “Probably won’t be getting much sleep that first night.”

“What, you don’t want to join in?” You ask, staring at them over your mug as you sip your coffee.

John’s gaze darkens, Kyle’s jaw twitching as they stare at you. There’s a sudden tension in the air, their scents starting to thicken.

“As much as we’d enjoy it, they deserve some time with you to themselves.” John says lowly, a subtle growl in his voice.

“We’ve been spoiled, getting to have you whenever we want.” Kyle says, his own voice pitched low and gruff. “Only seems right to give them that chance.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at them, eyes flicking back and forth from John’s gaze to Kyle’s, then back. You feel small under the intensity of their gaze, the back of your neck tingling. A deep part of you is wanting to run, to give them chase, but you wouldn’t make it far. Down the hall maybe. Probably not even into the room.

“Smell that?” John rasps, taking in a deep inhale.

“Thought you wore her out already.” Kyle rumbles.

“Thought I did too.” John’s gaze is dark, another shiver running down your spine.

You can stop yourself as you jump up, racing towards the entrance to the kitchen. They’re on their feet almost as soon as you are, footsteps thudding behind you. You slip on the turn around the corner, flying down the hall to the room.

You just manage to get the door closed, flipping the lock before taking a step back. They’ll get through, you don’t doubt that. Instead your gaze turns towards the window, an idea popping into your head. You don’t care that your barefoot as you climb into the bed, pushing the window open. It gives a bit of resistance from the damp air outside but you get it open just enough to slip through and onto the patio. You take off towards the grass, hearing the sliding door open.

A body hits you from behind, forcing you down into the grass. You just made it off the patio, breathing hard as you land in the tall foliage. Kyle is on top of you, flipping you over onto your back, John right beside him. You’re laughing, kicking out at Kyle as he tickles your sides.

“Little shit.” He grins, not even breathing hard after the short run.

“Giving us chase, you little minx.” John says, pinning down your top half.

“Not my fault you were stinking up the house.” You giggle, giving up the fight.

“Enjoy that did you?” John asks, staring down at you.

“Yeah.” You breathe, staring up into those intense blue eyes.

You can see the thoughts behind those eyes, the ideas his brain is coming up with and storing for later. Another shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

Finally Kyle lets up, leaning his body over yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so he’s chest to chest with you. He grunts softly, catching himself on his elbows.

“We gonna make this a regular thing?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Do you want it to be?” You ask softly.

He smirks. “That’s up to you and how much you feel like running.”

You hum. “Might have to pull out my running shoes again.”

Kyle chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting up on his knees. “Gotta work on that stamina.” He grins, his hand trailing up your side. “Johnny and Simon will get a head start on that.”

You swallow thickly, your scent starting to project again.

“Don’t get her riled up too much.” John says, shifting your wrists into one of his hands, the other dropping to brush across your lips. “She’s already had an exciting morning.”

“I didn’t get to have my fun.” Kyle says.

John releases you as you push yourself up to stand, staring down at him where he sits on his knees. You drag your fingers through his curls tugging his head back. “Maybe you should have stayed then.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping around him, making your way back towards the house.

“Shit,” he breathes, your ears just picking it up as you reach the sliding glass door.

A grin splits your face as you step back into the house, leaving them outside.

The bed dipping again pulls you from sleep. You roll over, reaching out but find nothing but air. The shadowy figure of John disappears into the gaping maw that is the bathroom before the door closes and the light turns on. You lay there in the dark, staring at the strip of light for a moment. You’re half tempted to get up, to beat him to the kitchen, finally confront him about his sleep, but Kyle chooses that moment to roll over and wrap his arms around you. You silently curse him, laying there as the bathroom door opens, John’s shadow making its way across the room and out the door.

You let out a sigh. John hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s up late and rises early, and you know he gets up sometimes during the night. You want to ask, you want to talk to him, but you don’t know how. You’re not sure he would talk to you, if he even could. Something’s up with him and it’s bothering you that you can’t help. Instead you lay there helpless in Kyle’s arms, staring at the wall until your eyes start to droop.

It’s light out when they open again. Kyle’s gone, his warmth fading from the bed. John’s side is cold, just as you expected. You lay there in the blankets for a moment, staring up at the ceiling illuminated by the sun coming in through the window. It’s Friday, which means Johnny and Simon will be on their way here soon, if they aren’t already. They had sounded excited on the call last night, and you can’t help but wonder if Johnny got any sleep. You hope he did considering he’ll be driving.

You climb out of bed finally, pulling on a pair of shorts before heading to the kitchen. The smell of toast and eggs wafts down the hallway, drawing you towards the sounds coming from the kitchen.

“Morning, love.” Kyle says softly, turning to look at you from the stove.

“Morning.” You say, rubbing your eyes as you head for the coffee pot.

John is seated at the table, nursing a tea with his phone in hand. He looks tired, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. You wonder what he does when he wakes so early. Go on a run? Sit and have an existential crisis? Scroll on his phone until his mind is numb and leaking out of his ears?

“Morning, sweetheart.” He murmurs over the top of his mug when you take a seat at the table.

“You were up early.” You say, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re pushing a boundary here, but curiosity is beginning to make you brave.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Is all he says, setting his mug back down on the table. For some reason, it feels like a finality.

If you were braver, you’d push, but you don’t have it in you. Not when he’s looking like this.

Kyle interrupts the moment, or perhaps saves it, as he sets a plate of toast, eggs, and sausages down on the table. You’re not particularly hungry, but you eat anyway, knowing you’re going to need the strength later.

“Johnny and Simon left around 6 this morning.” John says.

“That early?” You frown.

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave earlier.” Kyle says.

“They should be here around noon.” John continues. “Perhaps earlier depending on if Johnny decides the rules of the road are actually rules.”

“Maybe later if he gets pulled over again.” Kyle says.

“He’s been pulled over before?” Your brows raise, though you’re not sure why you’re surprised.

“A few times.” John says. “He’s even gotten out of a ticket a couple times.”

“It’s the charisma and charm.” You say.

“Nah, he just plays dumb.” Kyle says.

“Or that.” You giggle.

The three of you finish breakfast and you set up to make sure the house looks perfect, even with its sparse furniture and décor. You want it to look good for Johnny and Simon. You want their first impression of your nest to be a good one. They’ll probably like it regardless. Anything will beat the barracks, but still, you have that drive to make sure everything is in its place and perfectly aligned.

Noon arrives with great anticipation, and you eagerly await the sound of tires on gravel outside.

You don’t have to wait long, your body up off the couch as soon as you hear the crunch of rocks that make up the front driveway. You fling the front door open, standing there impatiently as Johnny parks next to Kyle’s car.

Simon exits the vehicle first so he’s your first target, your body bee-lining to him automatically, even before you realize it. You almost slam into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as tight as you can, squeezing him like your life depends on it. He lets out a quiet grunt at the impact, but his arms fall around you too.

Tears sting your eyes as you rest against his chest, emotions welling up inside of you. It’s been almost two months since you’ve seen them. Even with the hectic business of the house and settling in, there lingered an ache deep in your chest, the ache of missing the other half of your pack.

Simon’s scent floods your senses and you breathe it in deeply, almost tasting the scent of leather and eucalyptus and the distant tang of gun powder. His own nose is pressed into your hair, breathing in your own sweet scent.

“Missed you, love.”

It’s murmured against the top of your head, rumbling deep in his chest against your ear. Three simple words but they have the tears finally sliding down your cheeks. You missed his scent, his voice, his arms around you. You’ve missed him more than you thought, that ache in your chest all the more noticeable now that he’s back with you. You missed your alpha, his warmth, his comfort, his strength. You’d drop to your knees and beg him to retire right now if you could bear to tear yourself away from his hold.

“Missed you so much.” You whisper, your voice wavering.

His hands rub your back, fingers trailing through your hair. “I’m here.” He whispers, lips pressing against your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you stand there, caught up in the moment for a few breaths, the tears still trailing down your cheeks. You don’t want to let him go. You’d fuse yourself to him if you could.

A voice cuts through the silence, breaking the quiet moment.

“Did ye forget about me?”

You reluctantly pull yourself back from Simon, turning in his arms to blink blearily at Johnny. “No.” You say, reaching out for him. “You wouldn’t let me.”

He nearly slams into you, picking you up off the ground and spinning you. “Oh I missed ye, kitten.”

“I missed you too.” You giggle through the tears, wrapping your arms tight around him. “I missed you so much.”

Johnny sets you back on your feet, cupping your face in his hands as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. He groans quietly as he finally gets a taste of you after months, kissing you hard.

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping tears against your skin. You missed him terribly too, breathing in his soft, warm scent as he pulls your body close against his. His kiss leaves your lips, trailing down your cheek to your neck, his nose pressing into your skin as he inhales deeply.

“Fucking missed this.” He groans, his hands sliding down your back.

“Alright, come on you needy pup.” John says, slapping his shoulder. “Don’t get too excited. You don’t want the neighbors to see.”

Johnny pulls back, looking around at the farmlands that surround you. “What neighbors?”

“Come on,” John says motioning with his head. “I thought you wanted to see the house.”

“I do!” Johnny says excitedly, taking your hand. “Show me this wonderful place, kitten.”

You giggle, wiping the tears from your cheeks with your free hand. “Come on.” You lead him up the steps of the porch to the front door.

“It’s cute.” Simon says, following behind you.

“She’s a little sparse, but I think you’ll see the vision.” You say, leading them inside.

You give them a tour, showing them around the living area and the kitchen, then outside to the patio and the land that stretches beyond, telling them all about your plans and the animals you’ll get soon. Then you head back inside, showing them around the guest rooms and the bathroom before you end in the main bedroom.

“Screamin’ Jesus that’s quite the bed.” Johnny says, toeing off his shoes before jumping onto the mattress.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” You ask, following him up onto the bed. “John got the reinforced frame.”

“Good.” Simon says, crawling on behind you. “I assume you’ve put it to the test already.”

You giggle bashfully. “We’ve put it through some thorough testing.” You lay back against the pillows, staring up at him. “Though there’s still a few things we have to try.”

His gaze darkens as he stares down at you, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “We’re you waiting for us?” His voice is low, rumbling deep in his chest.

You nod, breathless under his gaze. “Yes.”

“Christ in heaven.” Johnny moans, shifting on your other side.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at them, your body starting to buzz excitedly. You’ve missed them so much, their touch, their taste, their smell. Being this close to them again almost makes you dizzy, your mind reeling from the look of them above you, making you feel small beneath them.

“Happy for your reunion, but would you like lunch before you defile our omega?” Kyle’s voice cuts through the moment.

Simon and Johnny both look away, turning to glance at Kyle. They glance back at each other, having a silent conversation before looking back at the other beta.

“Lunch would be great.” Simon says, pushing himself up off the bed.

You pout, pushing yourself up to sit. “But what about me?”

Simon gives you a wicked grin, adjusting his pants. “You can be our afternoon snack.”

A whine leaves your throat at his words, your teeth sinking into your lip again.

You don’t get to be the afternoon snack. The five of you get too caught up talking and getting each other caught up with your lives that it’s dinner before you know it. You help Kyle cook, working on your skills with him so he doesn’t always have to be the one cooking. He doesn’t mind, it’s something to do, but at the same time you feel bad. He deserves a break every so often too.

Dinner passes by quickly, the five of you retiring to the living room after, nursing beers as you relax in post-food euphoria. You’re squeezed on the couch between Simon and John, Kyle and Johnny taking to the floor, spread out on the carpet.

“It’s good to be back together again.” You say, leaning your head on Simon’s shoulder. “I missed this.”

“Aye, it feels wrong to be apart for so long.” Johnny says, leaning back on his hand.

“You can always retire.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Wish it were that easy.” Simon grumbles, leaning his head back against John’s hand. His arm is draped across the back of the couch, fingers playing with the hair at the base of Simon’s head.

“I know.” You say, taking another swig of beer. It tastes like piss but you’re too afraid to say anything, lest you face the teasing of the Brits before you. “So what do you think of the house?” You ask, changing the topic of conversation to something a little more lively.

“It’s cute.” Simon says. “Very much you.”

“Feels homey already.” Johnny says. “Can’t wait tae see it when it’s fully decorated.”

“I approve of the bed choice.” Simon says, his hand dropping to your thigh.

A shiver works its way up your spine, the promise of what’s going to happen later silently conveyed by that one action. You can’t wait, but they seem content where they are, dragging it out for you.

The anticipation only adds to the arousal starting to build within you.

Simon’s hand continues to rest on your thigh as the conversation continues, his thumb stroking your skin. You wish his fingers would slide higher, press against the seam of your shorts where you’re starting to get wet. No doubt your scent is thickening in the air, filling the room with your thick scent.

All four pairs of eyes are on you suddenly, your skin tingling from their gaze. You try and hide behind your beer can, sinking further into the couch.

“Someone’s getting excited.” Kyle smirks.

“Yeah, well, I missed my boys.” You say, taking a big swig of beer, hoping for a little liquid courage.

Simon’s hand finally slides up your thigh, fingers pressing between your legs, feeling the heat there. He slides your shorts to the side, his hand cupping you through your panties. “I’ll say.” He nearly groans, his fingers stroking you through the fabric.

Johnny takes in a deep breath before downing the rest of his beer, setting the can on the coffee table. “I cannae take much more.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. He’s sporting a hard-on, cock bulging through his jeans.

Simon’s hand leaves you as Johnny bends down, his shoulder meeting your middle as he pulls you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeal, hands fisting his shirt to try and keep steady.

“See ye in the morning.” He says, already heading down the hall to the bedroom.

Your back meets the bed, bouncing from the impact as he quickly tears his shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the sight of him, drinking in every last inch of skin revealed to you as he kicks off his pants.

“Eager tonight.” You say, laying back on your elbows.

“Missed ye.” He grunts, nearly catching a foot in his boxers before he kicks them across the room. His cock is hard where it hangs between his thighs, red and angry already. He’s been horny just as long as you have, likely even longer. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was half hard on the drive up here.

His fingers curl under your waistband, yanking your shorts and panties down your legs and off your feet. He pushes your legs open, bending them up so they’re resting against your chest. A curse leaves his lips as he stares down at your soaked folds, his hands sliding down your thighs. You tug your shirt over your head as he leans down, dragging his tongue through your folds.

A deep groan leaves his lips, his eyes rolling back. “Fucking beautiful.”

He buries his face in your pussy, slurping like a man starved. His tongue laps through your folds, drinking up every last drop of your juices that dribbles out of you. You let out a sigh, laying back on the bed as you finally get some friction against your pulsing clit.

He closes his lips around it, sucking hard. Your eyes roll back, toes curling from the pleasure. John and Kyle have ignored you for the last couple days, giving you time to rest and recuperate before this moment, when Simon and Johnny finally got their hands on you again.

A whimper leaves your lips as he’s suddenly pulled back, your head lifting to find Simon standing beside him, hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny’s face is shiny from your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he stares up at Simon.

“Needy little mutt.” Simon says, his gaze focused on Johnny. “Getting started without me?”

“Couldnae help it.” Johnny almost whines, his fingers flexing against your thighs. “Smelled so good.”

Simon hums, fingers releasing Johnny’s hair. “Well then,” he shoves Johnny’s face back towards your pussy. “Do your job and make her cum.”

“Yes, sir.” Johnny murmurs before he’s back at your pussy, lips closing around your clit again.

Simon climbs on the bed beside you, leaning on his arm. His free hand grips your chin, turning your face towards his. You stare up into those deep, dark eyes, a shiver running down your spine from the unmistakable lust in his gaze. His scent is quickly filling the air, mixing with yours and Johnny’s.

Your lips part with a gasp as his hand slides down your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat. Your pulse thrums against his fingers, toes curling from the attention that Johnny is giving to your clit. You’re going to cum, your chest rising and falling quickly as Simon’s hold on you tightens just slightly.

You grip Johnny’s hair, pulling his face harder against your pussy, hips lifting to grind against his mouth. You don’t care that you might be smothering him, and you doubt he cares either as he continues to eagerly slurp at your clit. You continue to hold Simon’s gaze, mouth falling open as you get closer and closer to the edge. Simon’s gaze doesn’t waver, neither does his grip around your throat as he holds you there, keeping you steady while Johnny has you coming undone.

Pleasure comes in waves as you cum, legs shaking against Johnny’s hands as he sucks hard on your clit. It’s almost too much, your back arching off the bed. One hand wraps around Simon’s wrist, holding on for dear life as you gush into Johnny’s mouth. He lets out a groan, lapping up every last drop of slick.

“Good boy.” Simon praises him, finally releasing you to stand back up.

You drop lax on the bed as Johnny finally releases you, kneeling on the floor in front of Simon. Their gazes are locked as Simon starts to undress, tugging his shirt over his head before taking his time undoing his belt. You lay on the bed, watching the moment while trying to catch your breath.

Simon kicks his pants off before climbing onto the bed, moving past you to lounge against the sheets, his cock resting against his stomach. He stares at you and Johnny, arms behind his head looking as causal as can be.

“Well?” he lifts a brow. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You and Johnny share a look before you’re moving, climbing between his spread legs. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock as Johnny climbs up beside you, his arm brushing yours as he leans down, wasting no time. You start to stroke Simon’s cock as Johnny takes his head into his mouth, sucking lightly. You keep your gaze on Simon’s face, his eyes lidded as he watches you.

You push Johnny aside and bend down, flicking your tongue across Simon’s slit, feeling him get harder in your hand. You circle his head with your tongue before prodding at his slit again, still stroking him with your hand.

A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you off of Simon’s cock. Johnny releases you before bending back down, taking Simon’s cock in his mouth. His hand rests on Simon’s thigh as he sinks down until his lips touch your hand where you stroke him. He bats your hand away before sinking even lower, gagging as Simon’s cock hits the back of his throat.

“Show off.” You breathe, shouldering him aside as you take his place, taking Simon’s cock into your mouth.

Johnny’s hand grips the back of your neck but you drive an elbow into his stomach, sinking down as far as you can until you feel your gag reflex start to protest.

A hand tangles in your hair, tugging you up off of Simon’s cock. Simon is holding you, his other hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Both of you stare up at him, drool sliding down your chin.

“Enough.” He growls, releasing you. “Behave.”

You turn to look at Johnny, his face leaning forward to lick the drool off your chin. You let out a choked sound as his lips slide up, meeting yours. You grip Simon’s cock again, both of you leaning down. Your tongues entwine, licking all over Simon’s cock as you start to stroke him again. He’s leaking, precum beading from his slit. Johnny swipes a drop with his tongue, smearing it across Simon’s head. Your teeth scrape the delicate skin of his cock, smirking as you feel the twitch against your hand. He’s close, the heavy rise and fall of his chest visible out of the corner of your eye.

You drop your hand to his balls as Johnny takes him into his mouth again, bobbing his head as he sucks Simon off. A deep groan leaves Simon’s mouth as you massage his balls, feeling them tighten before he cums, spurting into Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny takes every last drop, your hand stroking Simon until he stops twitching. Johnny pulls off of him, your hand darting out to grip his chin before you force your tongue in his mouth before he can swallow. Simon’s cum is bitter on your tongue as you flick it against Johnny’s, his tongue passing some of it to you. You can almost feel the deep groan that leaves Simon, his cock hardening again in your hand.

You swallow down what you got, pulling away from Johnny. Both of you turn to look at Simon, his eyes lidded, mouth parted as he breathes. His hand reaches out for you and you crawl forward, letting him guide you to sit on his stomach. His hand lifts up to brush your bottom lip, cleaning off the residue of drool and cum.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asks quietly, softly, so very different from the commanding presence you had just witnessed.

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good.” He cups your cheek with his hand. “I missed that fucking mouth. Had to put up with that slag for weeks.”

Johnny lets out a whimper, his hand dropping to drag against his own cock.

“Missed this pussy even more.” He says, his hands falling to your waist to drag your hips against his stomach. “Been dreaming about it.”

You rest your hands against his chest, rocking your hips back and forth, dragging your clit against his skin. You’re leaving a wet patch but you don’t care, shamelessly using him for pleasure.

“Now, before I turn you into a little fountain, there’s something I need you to do first.” He cups the back of your neck, pulling you down towards his face. His breath fans your ear as he whispers. “Johnny’s been an awful good boy waiting for this moment. Why don’t you give him the ride of his life and milk him dry with your pussy.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, pushing yourself back up on his chest. You climb off of him, pressing your hands against Johnny’s chest, guiding him to lay next to Simon. He goes willingly, eyes locked with yours as you maneuver him.

You settle yourself over his hips, taking his cock in your hand. It’s already rock hard, tip leaking. He’s not going to last long once he’s inside of you, but that’s all part of this plan. Fuck him till he begs you to stop, no matter what. You just have to outlast him.

His head falls back as you lower yourself onto his cock, a moan leaving your lips at the stretch of him. Simon turns on his side, watching the two of you as you sink down completely, sitting yourself on Johnny’s hips.

“Feel good?” Simon hums.

You nod. “So good. Missed you so much.”

“We know.” Simon says, slapping Johnny’s cheek lightly. “Be a gentleman and watch your omega as she uses you.”

Johnny tilts his head back down, lips parted as you start to move, lifting yourself up before lowering again on his cock. Simon’s hand rests against Johnny’s stomach, his other hand propping himself up as he watches you. Johnny’s hands rest on your thighs, gripping tightly as you bounce on his cock, squeezing around him with every press of his tip against that spot inside of you.

You have to outlast him. You just have to make it longer than him.

He’s not going to last that long.

He’s already twitching, hips jerking under you as you grind your hips, angling yourself so your clit drags across his skin. He’s moaning and whining, fingers dimpling your skin from how tightly he’s gripping you.

He cums quickly, nearly bucking you off as he spills inside of you, but you don’t stop, continuing to fuck yourself on his cock. Simon holds the base of his cock as you continue to bounce, feeling him getting hard again. He’s panting, lips parted as he stares at you, cheeks flushed and eyes shiny. He looks wrecked and he’s only cum once.

“Fucking...Jesus.” he groans, back arching as you continue your movements, pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him. “I cannae take it.”

“You can.” Simon says, moving his hand once Johnny’s completely hard again. “And you will.”

Johnny whines, hands bruising on your thighs as he desperately hangs on, eyes fluttering. You don’t stop despite the ache in your thighs, the sweat soaking your skin. Your stamina isn’t what it used to be, but you ignore the fatigue, grinding against him again, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny’s hands leave your thighs and slide up to your waist, aiding you with every bounce, the sound of wet skin slapping wet skin filling the air.

“Come on,” Simon goads him, sitting up on his knees. “You can do it.” His hand slides behind you, gripping Johnny’s balls.

A curse leaves Johnny’s lips, his back arching as he thrusts up into you, nearly throwing you off of him, but Simon’s other hand settles on your waist, keeping you upright. You’re tired, sweat dripping off your forehead but you don’t stop, not even when Simon’s fingers slide to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bud.

“You too.” He breathes in your ear. “Come on.”

You cum with a cry, legs giving out as you squeeze around Johnny’s cock. Johnny cums with a shout, filling you a second time. He’s shaking too, falling limp beneath you.

“I cannae…I cannae take more.” He gasps, trying to push you off of him.

You lift your hips, letting him slip out of you, his cock landing with a wet smack against his stomach. You lay yourself against his chest as Simon rises, heading for the bathroom. You rest against Johnny for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Fucking better than I remembered.” Johnny breathes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Fucking magical pussy.”

You giggle, that giggle turning into a shriek as Simon flips you off of Johnny onto your back on the bed next to him. There’s a towel under your hips, Simon kneeling between your thighs.

Oh, he wasn’t kidding.

He pushes your trembling legs up, spreading you open before him. “There she is.” He says, eyes locked on your pussy, some of Johnny’s cum dripping out of you. “Isn’t that a sight.”

He moves your hands to hold the backs of your thighs, pussy spread open for him. His fingers rub slow circles over your clit, eyes locked with yours. You’re sure you’re a sight right now. Sweaty face, damp hair sticking to your skin, still shaking from your last orgasm, Johnny’s cum slowly seeping out of your wet pussy. Looking properly wrecked and he hasn’t even started with you yet.

Johnny is beside you, watching with interest. He knows what’s about to happen. He’s not stupid...well, not completely. He might have been fucked dumb but it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what’s about to happen to you.

Simon slides his hand lower, slipping two fingers into you. You whimper, still sensitive after fucking Johnny. Despite that your pussy squelches around his fingers, walls fluttering as he finds that spot inside you. You brace yourself, breathing through the slow thrusts of his fingers against that spot.

You can feel the slow build of pressure, the pleasure starting to thrum under your skin. The anticipation nearly takes you out, toes curling as you wait for him to truly start. His gaze is on your face, watching you as he slowly picks up the pace, pushing his fingers against that spot faster and faster. Your lips fall open, breaths coming in short gasps as the pleasure builds, pussy fluttering uncontrollably.

It gets to be too much, feeling like you might explode as he drives his fingers into that spot, a cry leaving your lips as you squirt all over his hand.

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny breathes, watching your body writhe on the bed, Simon’s fingers driving right back into you, thrusting up against that spot again.

Simon’s hand presses against your stomach, pinning you down as you try to writhe away. “One more.” He grunts, thrusting his fingers hard against that spot before you squirt again, soaking his hand and the towel. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to recover, slotting himself between your legs and thrusting into you. Your pussy stretches around him, not even Johnny able to fully prepare you for the size of him. You fall limp against the bed, Simon tossing your legs over his shoulders before he’s thrusting into you, snapping his hips against yours. You reach out, gripping Johnny’s arm as your back arches, your fluttering pussy squeezing around Simon’s big cock as you ride one orgasm into another.

It’s too much, your vision swimming as you try to breathe. You feel like you’re floating, the pleasure almost painful as he snaps his hips against yours, grinding the tip of his cock against that spot inside of you. He’s grunting and growling, hands gripping the comforter under you. You can’t do anything but lay there and take what he’s giving you, your legs trembling uncontrollably as he wrings another orgasm out of you.

“Fucking shit.” He groans, hands pinning you to the bed as he fucks you hard, driving the tip of his cock into your spot over and over. You can feel it building again, that unmeasurable pressure as tears leak out of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations. “Come on.” He grunts, driving his hips upward. “One more for me.”

He thrusts into you hard, hips meeting your ass as you squirt around his cock, your vision going dark from the pleasure.

“I think ye killed her.” Johnny’s voice reaches you through the ringing in your ears.

You’re shaking all over, body limp on the bed as you blink bleary eyes up at Simon. He’s still above you, one hand stroking the tears from your cheeks.

“There she is.” He says softly, gently easing your legs from his shoulders. “Welcome back.”

“I think he’s right.” You rasp, body still trembling. “I think you killed me.”

Simon chuckles, pulling himself out of you. Cum and slick seeps from your pussy, adding to the damp spot already soaking through the towel. “You did so good for me.” He praises you, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. “Took me so well.”

You pull him down against you, sweat mixing with sweat as you hold him for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone,” you say, your fucked-stupid brain forgetting to whisper. “But your cock is my favorite.”

Johnny goes to protest, but he stops himself. “Ye know after that, I don’t blame ye kitten.”

Simon chuckles, pushing himself back up. “Let’s get you both cleaned up.”

He uses the towel to wipe between your thighs before taking it to the bathroom, adding it to the hamper. He grabs a clean cloth, wetting it before coming back, wiping you down, then Johnny. You manage to get your body to roll over, cuddling up against Johnny’s side.

“That was good, kitten.” He says, kissing your forehead. “Got my cock achin’.”

“I think my pussy needs rehydrating.” You murmur, sleep already starting to tug at the back of your brain.

Simon maneuvers the covers out from under you, tucking in you and Johnny before sliding in behind you after turning out the light. He tucks himself against your back, tossing an arm over you.

“Missed you a lot.” You slur, half asleep already.

“I know.” Simon says, kissing the back of your head. “We missed you a lot too. Not just your pussy, but every part of you. Your presence, your humor. Having someone there to protect and take care of. It’s not the same without you.”

You make a small noise, wiping your sweaty forehead. “Who knew all I needed to do was leave for two months and suddenly you’d get sentimental.”

Simon grunts, pulling you and Johnny tighter against him. “Don’t get a big head, you little shit.”

You can’t help but smile, comforted by his words. At least you know they do miss you.

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[fanficfav]

Absolutely love this concept

Reader with healing magic and the 141, BUT the healing magic feels like, really fucking good. As such you avoid using it at all when u can.

Price is a bit snippy, why the hell did they get someone with healing powers if they refuse to heal? Sure, ur a damn good soldier, but you'd be even better if you'd actually use ur powers.

It's not until soap gets shot in the stomach on an op that they learn why. He's bleeding like hell and there's no way to get him to a proper medic so u steel ur nerves, peel his shirt up, and press a warm glowing palm to the wound.

Soap outright moans, loud and very clear over the comms. And its not just one moan either, he sounds like hes getting fucked over there.

"The hell are you two doing?!" Price sounds both baffled and angry.

"Im fuckin' healing him." You retort, trying to be heard over the outright slutty sounds coming from soap "its a side affect of my magic."

"Fuckin' hell. Mute your comms, we need to focus."

Anyways soap cums like that lol. Maybe ill continue this, I actually quiet like the idea🤔

(Pssst I made a pt2)

[d-a-n-n-y-y]

Losing your favorite fanfic feels more painful than going through a breakup😭🥀

[imreadng]

simon riley with a bilingual reader. grocery shopping is tough because—

“what’s the red thing called again?” you look up at him with furrowed brows. you swear you know what you're talking about, the word is there at the very tip of your tongue.

simon, on the other hand, is wracking his brain trying to guess the thing that you want. apples? meat? what has been missing in the kitchen lately?

“y’know, the thing in pasta...” you mumble with your head now hung low, gesturing with your hands as if you could feel the very thing on your palms.

ah. simon finds himself nodding at the realization.

“y’mean tomatoes, lovie?”

just like that, you’re clapping your hands and pointing at him with a “yeah, tomatoes!” and he couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

“wha’s it called in y’r language, anyway?” simon asks, and he would try pronouncing it to the best of his abilities.

there have been times when you have been too frustrated to clarify whatever you had in mind. you would either say it in broken english or abandon the cursed speech all together so you could murmur to yourself in the language you’ve always known.

it wasn’t easy having this barrier between you two, but man will simon give his all if it means being able to understand you. he wants to hear your every thought, need, and desire — to connect with you in a way that’s so personal.

you better believe that he’s working his ass off to get to that point. in the end, he will do anything for you.

even if that means having to utter words that are barely comprehensible.

“hey, you’re doing it!” you beam at him, eyes twinkling with mirth as simon tries muttering tomato in your native language. “you’re doing really good!”

maybe it isn’t so bad if you’re cheering him on like that.

next part : “it isn’t garlic, is it?”

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: Fuck me if I'm wrong but- Ghost: Wrong. You are wrong Y/N: I haven't even said- Ghost, taking his shirt off: You are WRONG

[corpsypher]

part 2 of this

What if reader was the one with the breeding kink, I'm talking, the feral, unhinged kind of breeding kink. Borderline nasty stuff.

"Oh john, oh-" you moan and groan to the rhythm of his thrusts, "I need you to fuck me so deep honey, put it so deep in me, I can taste it." He huffs and puffs, straining to keep the brutal pace of his hips pounding against yours.

"I want it, I need it." You unlock your legs from around him and instead grab them behind your knees, and pull them towards your chest, spreading yourself open even more for his cock. "Put your baby in me, John."

"Oh fuck," John feels the pressure start to build in his core, his balls tighten and rise, "I'm goin' to come, love…" his warning makes you arch your back and ground your pelvis against his.

"Oh yes, please! I want your cum!" you beg him as you push your breast up and let your head fall back, "fill me up, John. Stuff my pussy with your seed," He gasps at your words and his thrusts pause for a second, only to resume with more force, "Stuff me so much it drips out of me."

He's so close to fulfilling your demands, it's not even funny. Still, he holds it, wanting to hear your filthy mouth a little longer.

Suddenly, you drop your back down to the bed and grab him by the nape of his head, your fingers painfully tight on his hair. You force him down with you. His hard body crushing your soft one. His happy trail rubbing against your plump belly, the same with his broad, hairy chest and your pebbled nipples.

You caught him off guard, something almost impossible to achieve (and later he'll blame his pleasure-addled brain). Yet, he keeps moving inside you.

Using your hold, you move his head to the side, exposing his neck for you. Leaning up, you lick a stripe of his sweat, from his collarbone to his temple where the greys are starting to grown. And then you go for his throat.

"I you to fill me up much, it'll look like I'm pissing your cum when I stand up."

His vision goes white, his orgasm so violent he shouts, ropes of his cum pumping inside you to the beat of his thundering heart.

[stargirlstabber]

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER NINE - chicken scratch

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

The beep of a heart monitor is constant background noise over the course of the next week.  Constant.  Rhythmic as the ticking of the clock across the empty, sterile hospital room, and just as annoying as the fluorescent lights above your head.  If it weren't for the throbbing pain of a concussion in your skull and the debilitating ache of dark bruises, you'd be restless in the quiet silence, but right now—all you really have the energy to do is sleep and think.

Think think think.

You only remember bits and pieces of what happened after Soap found you both.  You recall, vaguely, Price's countless apologies upon getting ushered back into another helicopter, the warmest hug you’ve ever received and a quick once over for any bad injuries.  You remember Gaz looking rather worse for wear as he limps down a runway—a twisted arm positioned carefully over Soap's shoulder.  Pale, dazed, jaw tight with pain.  You remember wrestling out of Ghost’s grasp to greet him, tearful and hyperventilating.

“Happens every time,” he had managed with a tight smile and a thumbs up, once you calmed down enough to breathe properly.

"Nice eye,"  you remember blearily telling Soap from where your cheek is pressed to Ghost's back later on.  A nasty bruise blooming across his face where flesh is nearly swollen shut, you had almost forgotten you punched him.  The front of his shirt is speckled with blood but considering he and Price the only ones relatively uninjured, you figure you don't want to know its source. 

"Nice brain,"  he snaps back immediately, eyes flitting across the dried blood that soaks your hair and the side of your sweater.  "Y'lose the last half of it in the crash, Mutt?"

Gaz chuckles deliriously at the comment.  For some reason, it makes you laugh too, and soon enough all three of you are laughing—relieved and hurting.  Even Price shakes his head, somewhat of a smile twitching across his face.  The Captain’s hand doesn't leave your shoulder once Ghost carefully slides you off his back.  Even he seems reluctant to let you go.

You remember throwing up in a bucket in the back of some SUV, then getting put in a hospital bed with painkillers, stitches, and orders not to look at anything too closely.  You aren't even allowed to have the TV on, but you do so sometimes anyway, even if the sight of your father's face on the news makes you nauseous all over again.

Things are quiet.  Too quiet.  For days after the talk with Price you don't get any visitors.  Just a few vague texts from Laswell and a call from Price that pretty much only consists of him dodging your questions.

You think a lot.  

Most of the sparse times you are awake are spent on the floor where all your father's letters are laid out at your feet.  Blue and black ink smudged across delicate, wrinkled, damp paper as you wait for them to dry completely before even daring to move them.  You've reread them all what feels like fifty times—looking for clues of his plans at the time, hints of Ghost, Nikolai, Laswell…anyone, really.  Dates.  Numbers.  Maybe a code hidden in the words?  You work at it every day, only stopping when you feel like you might vomit again.  You find yourself hoping Price will come through the door with orders to move somewhere—or maybe Ghost with more answers to quell your racing mind.  You want to know if Gaz is okay.  Hell, you'd be happy with Soap's presence if it meant conversation or something.

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

There’s a knock at your door, about a week in.

Startled, you nearly jump at the disturbance in the silence, having dozed off on the floor.  Letters and neat cursive signatures swirling in your eyes before you blink the bleariness away.  You grunt as you push yourself up, stumble to the door.  Open it slowly.

You blink when your eyes meet a stubbled, tan face.  "Soap?"  

The soldier in question straightens himself.  He's not in fatigues, for once.  Instead, he's got a dark hoodie on—the hood pulled up over his head and sunglasses to hide the bruise around his eye.  

"Aye,"  The Scott replies, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze.  "You…free to talk?"

Your mouth opens and shuts again.  Suddenly everything you wanted to say, everything you thought would come flooding out the second you had a visitor flies from your mind.  Really, he was the last person you expected to come knocking.

"I’m due for surgery in an hour.”

A beat of silence passes and his brow furrows.  "Actually?" 

"No.  Joking."

"Cunt,"  he spits with a scoff,  then he straightens himself a little with a steadying breath.  "I owe ya' an apology, kid."

You blink for a second, more surprised than you ever expected yourself to be.  A part of you pegged him as too prideful to ever even toy with the idea, and you find yourself slightly shocked.  You shake it off quick, though, and lean against the doorframe.  "You owe me a little more than that."

"Can y'just…be serious?"  He insists, exasperated.  "For two seconds?"

You chew the inside of your cheek, feigning thoughtfulness as you consider his words.  Watch him purse his lips.  He looks a little worse for wear—stubble thicker than usual and mohawk not nearly as perfect as it usually is.  Instead, it sits on his forehead, sad and flat. 

You push yourself away from the side of the door.

"Alright,"  you say, gesturing for him to step inside your sterile little room.  "Come in."

He pads in after you, eyeing the paper scattered across the floor and the still-damp backpack that sits spread out on the bedside table—along with the lighter and a few multi-colored clumps of what used to be handfuls of string.  

"Watch your step.  You rip any of those letters, I'll kill you."

He huffs, shuffling over to the chair on the far side of the room.  "Aye."

You take a seat on your bed as he fidgets with his bandaged hands and the room feels suddenly awkward.  There's too much to talk about—so much that neither of you can really pinpoint where to start, what to touch on first.  In the end, it's Soap who clears his throat, fidgeting with his hands.  He’s got a tattoo, you notice.  A symbol you don’t recognize.

"So…"  he says.  "You and L.T…"

You, still, have no idea who knows that your dad was friends with Ghost.  You're sure Price does, considering everything, but you're beginning to think you overestimated how close Ghost is with anyone.  You think nobody really knows who Ghost is; what he's been through, why he's here.  You also like to think that, maybe, your dad did.

"Yeah,"  you nod.  "He's not that scary once he saves your life.”

He huffs in reluctant agreement,  "Aye.  Tell me about it."

"He's saved you before?"

Soap sits back in the seat.  Hands clasped in his lap, his leg bounces as he takes a breath.

"Kinda in the job description, Mutt…to save each other's lives,"  he explains with a shrug.  "But yeah.  I owe 'em, especially for all the times he’s saved my arse.”

You bring your legs up on the bed.  Cross them and grab your ankles.  Nod and purse your lips together before you ask sheepishly: “could you…tell me about it?”

He tilts his head, “about what?”

“One of the times.”

He huffs a breath, tilts his head and looks up like he might have more than a few examples to tell.  A moment passes before he sighs and sits back, settling on one.

“About two years ago, whenever I was first assigned 141.  Was returning to base from the scariest OP I’ve had so far whenever somethin’ came up.  Got ambushed, shot at, separated from the group,”  he says, threatening a smile like it might’ve been a good memory.  “Ghost kept my head on while I stumbled through a city floodin’ with mercs, bleedin’ out and everything.  All while shooting and running away from pursuers of his own. Never thought his stupid fuckin’ jokes would ever give him such a tactile advantage.”

You huff, “never expected him to care so much.”

That pulls a chuckle from Soap.

“Damn right,”  he agrees, crossing his arms.  “But anyone who levels that many Shadows in one night is a good man, in my eyes.”

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  The heart monitor to your right fills the silence for a few moments before you speak up again.

"How is…everything?"  You say.  "With the others."

Soap's lips purse together.  For once, he seems nervous, eyes darting out the window next to you and brow furrowing tight.  Immediately, you tense, your heart rate picking up in your chest.

"It's Gaz, isn't it?"  You press, sitting up straighter.  "Did he die?"

"What?"  Soap chuckles, appalled, and he shakes his head.  "No—no, Christ almighty, Gaz didn't die.  He's fine.  They're all fine.  It's just…"

He clears his throat and gestures uselessly with his hands.

"...It's need-to-know."

You blink at him like he's got four heads.  Panic fades away to confusion as you raise an eyebrow at him, shoulders dropping.

"'Need-to-know'?" You echo.  "The fuck's that mean?"

Soap sighs, looks away again.

"'Means you're getting shipped back to the states, kid."

You think he might-as-well have dumped a bucket of ice water over your head.  Your mind goes blank, swirling questions and what-ifs sucked completely from your brain.  

"Price was supposed to break the news today,"  he explains further.  "'Figured I should stop by before he picked you up to clear the air, y’know?  Leave no bad blood.”

You’re too stunned by his words to really listen, too caught up in the thought that you failed.  You don’t have the codes.  You don’t have training or experience or any of the skills required to be anything more than just another body to protect.  A liability.  A name on a mortuary, if you don’t leave, hide, and stay hidden.  You’ve run out of time and failed.

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

When you don’t reply, Soap lets out a breath and stands to his feet.

“It was nice knowing ya’,” He places a hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing.  “And I’m sorry.”

Your hands ball into fists, staring at the floor as you clutch the fabric of your sweatpants in your hands.  Your eyes sweeps across the countless letters and birthday cards that litter the ground—soiled, ruined by freezing water and snow.  Pen ink bled out and ruined.  Too late.  Your eyes land on the one he sent just before he disappeared as Soap’s hand disappears from your shoulder; a birthday card signed with the date.  

Beep.  Beep. Beep.

Soap closes the door gently behind him without another word.

Slowly, you slide off the bed.  You reach out and take the birthday card in your hands, still damp from the lakewater.  Six digits.  Circled in red ink.  Shaky handwriting.  There’s zeros after every digit.

Holy fucking shit.

Your feet move before you can even comprehend that you're up and out the door.  The IV track is ripped from your arm before you stumble out into the sterile hallway, alarms beeping in your wake.  Bare feet slide against the hospital floors.  You barely notice how someone yells for you at the counter as you pass, or the raging footsteps behind you.  Nurses, more than likely, that you ignore completely.

"Soap!"  You yell, waving the waterlogged card in your hand as your eyes catch the dark of his hoodie in the elevator.  Your legs burn and your head is pounding so hard from the sudden movement that your vision is dark around the edges, but you press on anyway until you slide into the elevator.  Soap grunts, reaching out to steady you when your legs give and your head swims.

“Jesus, Mutt, what—”

“Take me to Price.”

He blinks, squeezing your upper arms tight, “Price?”

“The code,”  you breathe.  “I know the fucking code.”

There’s a beep.  The elevator opens to the ground floor of the hospital, and suddenly you’ve got guns trained on you from all directions.  Black gear, dark helmets, riot shields and tactical vests.  You barely have time to freeze before Soap jumps in front of you and all hell breaks loose.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @karurururu @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @bebobeboben @enfppixie @lyd14k4y @tlkonthestr33t @raye2000 @shinchanboi @orkwardx0

[lxvvie]

Imagine this phone/face time sex with Simon but since he’s sharing bunks with the rest of the guys it turns into all of them watching you make yourself cum on your fingers and toys. Also the boys helping each other out.

You’re a fuckin’ sight, too, luvie, fingers and toys pumping in and out of that pretty cunt, and Simon wishes he was there to taste and fuck you and make you scream. Shit.

The guys’ curiosity is piqued when they hear those pretty moans, when they hear you say Simon’s name, and it does something to your soldier. “Give ‘em a show, sweetheart,” he orders, cunt on the brain, and what a show it was.

What a show you’re treated to next.

It’s you, watching the boys watch you before they’re all over Simon, fucking, sucking, milking his cock, prepping him for the Cap’n, every bit the goddamn slag he is with you, and fuck. That’s it, baby boy, let them see how slutty you truly get.

” ‘m close—fuckin’ hell—” Your soldier slurs out, cum drunk, cunt struck, and cock filled. Fuckfuckfuck—

“Cum for me, Simon.” Acknowledged, sweetheart.

And it’s for you. It’s all for you.

They’re all your boys now.

[lemonmoonmochi]

Me and who?!

[tojisun]

your husband, price, lets you play with any of his men granted that you give him a show while you’re at it. and if not a show, then he stalks the halls of their base to see the mess that you made.

he pulls simon to the side and asks his lieutenant to show him the hickeys the you left on his neck—john laughs when he sees them, rumbles, “sh’ mauled yer ass, ghost.” before simon can say anything, john ducks away, humming delightedly to himself at the pretty flush that danced from simon’s cheeks down to his bruised neck.

he cups kyle’s jaw and strokes his lips with his thumb, and with his brows furrowed in faux worry, he croons, “look’t how bruised yer lips are, hun. sh’ got y’ good, didn’t sh’?” john pretends that he didn’t hear kyle’s sharp inhale, and he leans close to brush his nose on his sergeant’s head, breathing him in, before leaving like he didn’t lay waste on kyle’s heart.

he grabs the back of johnny’s neck and clicks his tongue at johnny’s hissed sputtering. john isn’t angry, he really isn’t, but he felt the indents of johnny’s teeth on the inside of your thighs, and john would just like to remind him—“i said t’ play nice, didn’t i, pup? t’ behave?” it’s no brainer that john’s tugging johnny to his office for a punishment.

(he places the recorder on your hands.

“what’s this?”

he shrugs before pulling you close. he nuzzles his scruff on your shoulder, holding you even tighter as you try to wriggle away from him, squealing how ticklish he’s being

he kisses the exposed patch of your skin peeking through your shirt. “nothin’ much, love. jus’ for our movie night.”)

[femalefemur]

18+ minors do not interact!

so you know that stupid tradition of the groom sticking his head under the bride's dress at the reception to pull the garter off? yeah that but every single one of the 141 would kiss your pussy while doing it.

johnny's full on making out with it over your underwear, leaving it sticking to you from a mixture of his spit and your arousal.

simon's got it pulled to the side so he can plant one directly on it and you can hear the deep rumble in his chest when you gasp in surprise.

kyle would place a kiss right over where your clit is under your underwear before running his tongue up the length of it.

and john would stuff his fingers in you while he gives your clit a harsh suck before letting go with an audible pop, comes out from under there with the garter in his teeth and licking his fingers.

[gloomwitchwrites]

hear me out hear me out

what if the 141 men were with reader who could not lock in before sex, like they’re out here spewing FILTH and reader is unable to do anything but giggle and hide their face- not wanting it to stop, but also having no idea how to respond without their cheeks hot enough to light a flame

What a delicious prompt, anon. Sometimes you just need something a little naughty and this one hit the spot. Thank you for sending it in!! Enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): established relationship, dirty talk, suggestive themes, breeding, horny behavior

Word Count: 800

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

John Price

“You hiding from me?”

You sink further into the cushions of the sofa, hiding your face from your husband. “I can’t,” you giggle, cheeks flaming.

“Thought you wanted to ride my dick until I look like a prune.”

“John!”

His tone becomes sultry. The sofa sags under his weight as he traps you beneath him. “Let me breed you. Fill you with my cum. You can lay on your back. I’ll do all the work.”

John’s large hands find your knees, spreading you wide as he settles between.  You refuse to look at him. One peek and you won’t be able to control yourself.

He grinds himself against you, his hardness stiff and apparent. “How wet are you for me? What will I find if you allow me a touch?”

You attempt to wiggle away, but John is much stronger, and far more determined. As you twist away to claw yourself out from under him, John grasps your wrists and pins them to the cushion. He grinds his erection against your ass, and this time you gasp through the giggles.

“I’ll turn that laughter into moans, love. Just spread those legs for me.”

Your cheeks flame hotter with the promise.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Wrapping you up in his arms, Johnny lifts, and then he body slams you into the top of the bed. It’s not rough or breath stealing, more like a weighted blanket falling on you that might be a bit heavier than you expected. You’re completely smushed beneath him, unable to wiggle out from under him. Johnny’s erection pokes the curve of your ass, his need apparent and insistent.

“Johnny!” you laugh, as he starts to aggressively hump you.

Johnny nips at your ear, then your throat, growling with an over-the-top snarl which only sends you further into hysterics.

“Gonna fuck me now, lass?” he asks as you stifle your giggles with the duvet.

“Stop,” you chuckle, even though you don’t want him to.

Johnny turns from humping to grinding, all the silliness in his body leaving as he expertly rocks himself against you. “Could take you like this. Face down.” Johnny’s hand comes down firmly on your butt. “Ass up.” His palms squeezes, comes down again. “Could tie you up this time. Use the spreader bar.” Your face grows even hotter. “Eat your pussy like that for hours.”

You’re unable to look at him, embarrassment and desire clashing within you.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You don’t hear the shower door opening. You aren’t even aware Simon is there until his hands fall on your hips.

“Si—” His name on your lips is cut short as he halts your attempt to turn around.

Simon presses you up against the shower wall, his muscled body a weight you cannot escape from. His hands roam downward, and then inward to between your thighs.

“Teasing me on purpose?” he asks with a hint of a growl. “Scrubbing your body down in full view of me. Touching your breasts, tempting me with glimpses of your cunt.”

Every naughty word heats your cheeks. It might be sexy as fuck but you can’t help yourself—the flustered giggle emerges unbidden.

“So you do want to fuck me,” croons Simon, grinding his dick against your ass. “Could take you up against this wall.” He lifts one leg, opening you slightly. “Or fuck you like this. Wash away the cum after. Put it all back once we get out.”

“Simon,” you hiss, smacking his arm, face heating to new heights.

“Wet,” he whispers, dipping one and then a second finger into you. “Warm.” He pumps. Once. Twice. Thrice. “And all fucking mine.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

His strong hands are vices on your hips, guiding you backward until you bump against the edge of the kitchen countertop. There is no escape. No running from Kyle when he’s determined to make you melt in his arms. The kiss is languid and slow, sending heat through your body.

“Should I take you right here? On the counter?”

It’s the devilish smirk that bites you. Already, you feel your cheeks flaming bright hot and scorching.

“Or,” he continues, “I can bend over the kitchen table. Fuck you senseless until you come around my cock.”

“Kyle!” you laugh, shoving at him, burying your face in his chest.

But Kyle isn’t done. “All that cum dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.”

The image is luscious, but his words are sending you into a giggle fit. It’s too much too fast, and though you enjoy his words, you’re unable to control yourself.

You place your hand over his mouth, and you feel his mouth form into a smile. Kyle presses in, holding your gaze. The words repeat in your head, over and over until you’re itching to run from him.

Your hand slips and Kyle makes his move. “Bend over.”

[agoraphxnics]

the guard dog trope with task force 141 has me in a chokehold—

werewolves!141 being absolute guard dogs to witch!fem!reader 😣😖

they first meet you in the market as you sell your wares in a quaint stall. john insists on stopping by to see if you have anything to aid in lycanthropy transformation; it’s always hard for weres, but simon has it downright terrible. regretfully, you don’t, but you offer to make them a custom tincture for an affordable price. it takes a month of trial and error, and they begin to think you’re full of it until they get their hands on that small miracle. in no way is it a cure, but it is a respite for all of them—especially simon—from their awful affliction.

after this, they’re bound at your hip, constantly following your shadow to do whatever you may desire. you reassure them that their coin was enough payment, but it falls on deaf, infatuated ears and wagging tails (literally). they seem so eager to do whatever want, and they are. they carry your groceries, water the many plants surrounding your cottage, and most importantly, keep you safe.

i have more thoughts! for the first time in—i’m not kidding—five years, i have inspiration and motivation to write for something. i’m so happy 🥹🥹

i can’t believe it’s cod that fixed me

[rosegolden13]

TF-141's favorite cuddle positions!!

Simon wants you to sleep on top of him. No, you won’t crush him, don’t be ridiculous. He just needs you as close as possible, in contact in as many places as physically manageable. The steady weight of you on his chest doesn’t necessarily help with his constant insomnia but it doesn’t hurt either. At least, he’s awake and comfortable instead of awake and miserable. His heavy arms will press you closer into him, his chin grazing the top of your head as you sleep on his chest. Luckily for you, he’s scarily good at staying still so you’ll sleep soundly even if sleep doesn’t find him nearly as easily.

Soap will 1000% use your tits as a pillow. I’m so sorry but it’s so true and you can’t convince me otherwise. It’s his favorite place to rest his head. He’ll mumble to you sleepily, turning his head deeper into your chest until you can’t even hear him just feeling the vibration of his words against you. If you try to tell him you’re too sore, he’ll whine and get all pouty on you. Honestly, you should just let him because it’s a win-win: you don’t have to listen to his whining and he’ll actually stay still for once while he sleeps so you won’t wake up freezing with the blankets (and likely Soap) on the floor. Honorable mention: he’d also love to rest his head in your lap or your tummy. Do we see a pattern? He likes using you as a pillow.

Gaz is a classic kind of guy. He wants you as his little spoon, tucked into his side as close as he can hold you. Your back is pressed against his chest, ass pressed into his hips, and legs tangled up together. This way his nose can rest in your hair and take in the subtle fragrance of your shampoo. His arm is locked around your stomach, elbow nestled around your hip, large hand splayed over your soft tummy. It’s nearly impossible to get up unless he lets you up- good luck. And he will playfully wrestle you into position so don’t even bother. He could use half his strength and still have you snug against him, no issues.

Price wants you cuddled into his side, using his shoulder as a pillow while his arm rests on the curve of your waist. He always wants you to face him so he can sneak little morning and good night kisses easily, the scruff of his beard rubbing against your cheek. This man gives off an unnatural amount of heat so, he’ll blast the air conditioning in the summer, heedless of the electricity bill, to make sure you’ll still want to snuggle with him. You both sleep better that way anyways. Once he’s settled into a leave, he’ll sleep like a log but if he’s just gotten back from a long deployment, expect him to wake at your slightest movement. Honorable mention: he loves falling asleep with you on his lap in his favorite recliner, probably snoring right in your ear.

Sorry if you're looking for a part 2 to my little drabbles!! I just have no clue where to go with it because I did not plan on expanding it... so take this instead LOL