#peonysposts

cw: horny content, dragon anatomy, male reader, mentions of jerking and fingering I'm thinking about the military taking in more shifters into their ranks because, duh, they need more power. Imagine you getting accepted into TF141 as a dragon shifter because Price thought that their team needed more people who could fight mid-air. You, being a dragon, have a humongous advantage with aerial combat. Your dragon form is big in every sense; your wings can easily envelop a building whole, and your torso stretches across one football field. The boys liked that, almost too much. You can easily demolish enemy buildings by walking on them, let alone those warplanes and fighter jets in the sky. The land and the sky are both your domain. You are what they call an all-rounder. Besides your dragon form, your own human form is not lacking in any way. Standing at 2.5m, Your height alone can intimidate even the tallest soldier they have. You have a nicely build body, pecs stretching every shirt, biceps almost ripping your sleeves at the seams. You didn't wear those tight-fitting clothes for no reason. The humans don't make clothes big enough for a dragon shifter to fit in.

Those tight-fitting clothes made everyone on base stare, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets from staring so hard at your toned body. When you take off your shirt during training or sparring, you better bet that someone (the whole gym) fell over their feet. You became the subject of awe and jealousy. You have received numerous confessions and heard numerous shit talk behind your back, but never once did any of the soldiers dare to lift a finger against you. Sufficient to say that the 141 was pissed, pissed at their comrade being gawked at, pissed at their shifter oggled at, pissed at their dragon being thirst after. You were theirs, a member of the 141. Not for those unworthy soldiers to look at with lecherous eyes.

Each of them laid their claims on you in their own way. Maybe from marks down your throat, a hand is always on a random part of your body, attaching small accessories with their initials on you, customizing all your clothes with the TF141 symbol. No matter what, they will not share.

You didn't mind the possessiveness because you already decided that the 141 is your hoard—only yours to treasure and keep close. No one should ever challenge a dragon, especially regarding their desire to possess and hoard their treasures. Any dragonkin knows how territorial a dragon can get, how murderous they can get when their hoard is at threat.

You made it a point to groom each of them in your own way, maybe licking them when you shift or marking them with your scent by rubbing their necks with yours. You give them your clothes, a sign of possessiveness and ownership. All of them were your treasure, your hoard. None of these nobodies should try to take them away from you; they will die trying.

When breeding seasons come by though, you always isolate yourself. Pushing the boys away and locking your door throughout the whole period. It was hell; you knew it would be hell, but you couldn't risk hurting them if you were to enlist their help. Dragons are aggressive in their ruts; even to other dragons, they always come out of the rut injured and bruised. If you were to ask the boys, none of their bodies can take it, being human and fragile. You couldn't bear losing or hurting them by your own inability to control your urges.

Of course, they will never take this lying down. They know how much it hurts, always hearing your pained grunts and groans from your room. It hurts them as much as it does to you, knowing you are suffering simply from being a dragon is unbearable. Ghost would always check on you from your door, leaving you food and water to make sure you are at least eating and hydrated. Price would give you sick leaves until the end of your rut. Soap and Gaz would try to cheer you up by talking to you from your window or your door, talking about anything under the sun if it could be just a little relief to you.

They want to do more and help you through it, but if you aren't willing, they can't force you to. Even if they get so affected by your groans, worried and aroused by the sounds that echo down the hallway from your room. For now, they can't do anything except help each other relieve themselves, jerking and fingering each other, imagining that its you filling them up and breeding them.

Ghost: No. It wouldn't be. Your idea of fun is as fucked up as Johnny's.

Soap: But-

Price: No. You both stay where I can see you both.

Reader & Soap: BUT-

You were friends. Okay, maybe thats too shallow. You guys were partners in life and death. Soap and Ghost both have been together since the start of your enrollment in the task force, and you had no qualm. You were content with the dynamic, you supported both of them to death.

But it seems that support and care wasn't reciprocated. You didn't know why they even bother talking and being buddy buddy w/ you if they were just going to be in each other's face no matter the time, ignoring you unless they need sumn.

Yeah, you had no qualm until they start leaving you out for plans or dinner, declining invitations to hang put tgt, forgetting to look out for you in favor of each other. You would've accepted this if you didn't look out for them as well, but you did.

You always did, coffee if they both look too tired, making plans for their date bcs they both are awkward, birthdays never went uncelebrated even if with just a simple wish, having their back on missions and always keeping their wellbeing in your mind.

'Maybe I did sumn wrong, maybe im too pushy, maybe Im overreacting.' You thought to yourself multiple times, trying to rationalise their reasoning of always leaving you out.

Today was the breaking point, its been months since you guys last hung out tgt so you thought maybe this time, they will agree. But no, of course no. Soap and Ghost both made the excuse that they dont have enough money to go out and you accepted it, albeit reluctantly. You get ready anyways, repeating the same cycle of inviting and getting declined, getting ready alone yet again.

You try to push the thoughts aside, not wanting to spoil your own mood. Three knocks sounded on your door, giving you hope that maybe one of them found some extra cash to hang out only to be met with Soap handing you a 50 dollar bill and asking you to buy something for them.

'So they did have money.'

Your smile becomes tight, almost ripping at the corners from how hard you try to maintain the initial smile. You agreed and he went out, just like that.

You can't take it, you really can't. All those months just crashing down on you relentlessly, making you feel so lonely and isolated. You don't know what you did wrong, you dont know. If you did maybe you can make this friendship right again, just tell you whats wrong.

A few tears slips down your cheek, the sadness before festering into rage that you can't contain. You cry inaudibly, quickly fetching your keys and drive out of base. The ride to the pub felt so long, each of your tears turning louder until it turns to sobs and hiccups.

All those time you third wheeled them, all of that came from your own pocket money. Hundreds were spent to accompany their dates, hotel rooms, karaoke, the movies. You are just a simple soldier of lower ranking, you didn't have all that much compared to them. But never once you complained, never once you regret spending that much if it meant being able to spend time with them.

And for them to do this hurts, so fucking much. Your sobs turns so unbeareable that you had to park at the side of the road, unable to see the road with how much tears are obscuring your view.

You just wanted to be friends, have some sort of intact human relationship in a career that puts your life in danger everyday. Just some kind of support to get through the days with flashbacks and trauma. Just a hand to hold in case of night terrors shaking you awake from your slumber. Just some friends that will care for you like you care for them. And yet, and yet.

Once again, your loneliness takes over and you dont know what to do. You should've known better, silly child. You are cursed to love people more than people will ever love you.

we all know the trope where someone keeps their hair long bcs hair hold memories. now pair that with simon who just lost the love of his life to a russian nationalist. He kept his hair long, just for the sake of the memory he had w/ johnny. He ties them into a bun, the bulge peeking from the back of his mask and sometimes, it gets loose enough for ppl to see his hair color.

He never cuts them, and if under any circumstances he has to cut them, he would try to salvage as much as he could. He cant lose whats left of johnny, not again.

He puts a little bit of johnny's ash into a locket, securely attached to his dogtag. He even bought a strong chain, one that doesnt break easily. He kisses them on every mission, squeezing them for support. Just like every time johnny kissed and held him.

He likes to think that this time, whats left of johnny wont disappear with the real one. He wants to believe that he wont lose johnny, not when he's dead already.

Ghost, shirtless and pointing a glock at me, clearly fed up : Go to fucking sleep.

Me, suddenly appearing on my bed with both arms crossed: Thank heaven for this blessing.

Today we have ghost again cus i kin that man with my whole being.

Ghost:I love like a dog. I will learn the tricks, try to speak, hunt down pest and protect you just so that you would look at me and tell me im good. Look at me, praise me! Wasnt I good? Why wont you look at me? I got the achievements you wanted me to have, i got into the school you wanted me to be in, didnt i do good? Wasnt i good? Hey, why arent you looking at me? I did it all for you two, why are you both not looking at me?

Yandere wally au by @qep0ermint their au is so good.