You're slumped over your bed, feeling the familiar feeling of a dick sliding through your wet folds, but the thing is you're fully dressed and home alone, the team left hours ago to the pub.
Your back arched, clit throbbing and slick pooling in your panties. The person could be any one of your team mates, they're all horny mutts who can't keep it in their pants.
A moan slips from your mouth, feeling a fat tip slip in and out, nothing more nothing less.... clearly ghost.
That's until you felt another head slip in beside it, your back arched even deeper, knees digging into your bed. Soap. They're both taking turns sticking just the head in, it's driving you crazy.
A few minutes of this and you feel the familiar buzz of a vibrator press against your clit, you gasped, grabbing your phone to text the team but before you can even hit send your body locks up into a strong orgasm, legs quivering violently and your jeans getting soaked.
4 orgasms later you finally feel both of them slip out. God you need a change and a gun. Maybe to murder them, maybe to point it at them while riding them till they whine. You'll never know until they show up. You're just glad Price or Gaz haven't had a turn... they've got more stamina.
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Pt. 2 to this.
Careful what you wish for.
TF141 x reader
+18 mdni
TW: Heavy smut warning !!!!
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Honestly, you didn’t know what had completely possessed you to suggest such a thing. Maybe it was the crushing lack of sleep, or perhaps the raw adrenaline of finally making it back to the safe house alive. But before you even realized the gravity of what you were doing, you were standing entirely bare in front of four hardened men whose intense stares burned into your skin with a nasty, unyielding need.
A volatile mix of too much testosterone and months of touch deprivation had completely sealed your fate. You knew exactly what they had in store for you.
With a slow, deliberate movement, you freed your hair from the towel, allowing the damp, dark strands to cascade down your bare shoulders. You watched with a smug satisfaction as the four of them stood entirely frozen, practically vibrating with tension as they waited to see who would dare make the first move.
Deciding to set the pace, you sauntered over to Gaz. His eyes were darting frantically between your bare breasts and the floor—a nervous little lamb caught in a trap. You stepped directly into his space and wrapped your hand firmly around his clothed erection.
A sharp, ragged groan tore from his throat the second you palmed the thick length of him through the fabric. A wicked smirk caught the edge of your lips as you watched him completely crumble from the faintest touch.
“Aww, I think little Gazzy boy is enjoying this, hmm?” you teased in a low, mocking tone. The taller man’s face scrunched up with pure pleasure, his hips instinctively bucking a fraction of an inch into your palm.
The other three just stood there, completely entranced as they watched you handle their teammate through his tight cargos. Almost in unison, their hands instinctively dropped to their own fronts, desperately trying to relieve the uncomfortable, suffocating tightness in their pants.
Before Gaz could pull away, you smashed your lips into his. A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue immediately fought yours for dominance, tasting of raw hunger and desperation.
The dingy room only offered an old, weathered mattress resting flat on the floor, but it was more than enough for what you had planned for your boys.
“Strip,” you commanded, pulling back from the kiss just enough to look Gaz in the eye.
Without a single second thought, he scrambled to tear off his heavy tactical layers. You turned your attention to the remaining three, who were already standing there with their dicks practically in their hands, and gave them a sharp, commanding gesture to do the exact same.
As the clothes began to fly, you caught Simon about to pull his balaclava over his head. You stepped in immediately, your hand arresting his movement.
“Ah, ah, big boy. I want you to keep that on. Can you do that for me?” you murmured. You pulled the dark fabric back down into place, locking your gaze onto his wide, dark eyes before leaning down to press a slow, deliberate line of kisses down his heavily scarred chest.
Ghost could only nod eagerly, his massive frame shivering as he stood there, wanting nothing more than to completely lose himself in your touch.
As you continued to trail sloppy, hot kisses down Ghost’s chest, a strong pair of hands suddenly locked onto your hips from behind.
“Are you sure about this, Sergeant?” Price’s deep, raspy voice rumbled directly into your ear. His hot breath tickled your skin as you tilted your head to the right, leaning into his touch. “Because once we start, there won’t be any backing out. Not after you let us in.”
“I think I know what I’m doing, Captain,” you cockily retorted, though the sudden friction of his thick cock rubbing right against your bare ass sent a violent shiver straight down your spine.
Price didn't hesitate. His heavy hands traveled up from your hips to the swell of your breasts, his thumbs ruthlessly pinching your hyper-sensitive nipples. Your back arched instantly from the pleasure of it, which only served to push your aching body closer into Simon’s space. Ghost took full advantage, his thick fingers slipping down between your thighs to tease your soaking folds, extracting a breathless string of moans from your lips.
“Aye, don’t you two go having all the fun here,” a gruff Scottish accent cut through the dark room. Soap stood just a few feet away, his eyes wild as he stroked himself, completely transfixed by the sight of you already coming apart under your superiors' touch.
“Easy, MacTavish,” Simon growled darkly, his fingers still rhythmically playing with your slick, needy entrance. “Why don’t you and Gaz break her in for us?”
He looked down at you through the eyeholes of his mask, a dangerous glint in his stare. “She’s going to need all the preparation she can get.”
Ghost chuckled darkly, finally pulling his hand away and stepping back to let his two sergeants have their way with you. The pure gravity of his remark stirred an unsettling, intoxicating wave of excitement deep in your stomach. Before you could even process it, Price let out a low laugh and delivered a harsh, echoing smack to your bare ass, causing your entire body to jolt forward.
You didn't even have time to register the shifting movement in the room before Johnny’s hungry hands locked onto your waist, lifting you effortlessly and pinning you flat against the weathered mattress.
Soap flipped you onto your stomach with terrifying ease, his rough hands immediately kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he admired the stark red handprint left behind by the captain.
“What’s it gonna be, Gaz? Heads or tails?” Johnny joked darkly, his voice thick with a heavy, predatory amusement.
Gaz didn't bother answering with words. He walked over to the head of the mattress and dropped to his knees, lining his swollen tip up mere inches from your face. He reached down, tangling a fistful of his fingers into your hair while his rough thumb stroked your cheek.
Any trace of his previous nervousness was entirely gone, replaced by a dominant, sinister look that made your insides coil tightly, leaving you completely soaked.
“Nah, I think heads suits me just fine, Soapy boy,” Gaz murmured, a dark grin spreading across his face. Without a shred of warning, he shoved his length deep into your mouth, forcing you straight down to the base.
Your eyes widened at the sudden, suffocating fullness. A muffled gasp caught in your chest as you choked slightly, your throat struggling to adjust to the sheer size of him.
“Not so bratty now, are we, princess?” Gaz mocked in a tone of faux sympathy. Clamping both hands around your head with a crushing grip, he began guiding his cock down your throat at an unforgiving, relentless pace.
Behind you, Soap wasted absolutely no time. He lined himself up with your slick entrance, dragging his swollen tip along your wet folds until your entire body shivered with desperate need. With a heavy, deliberate shove, he buried himself inside you, completely stretching out your tight little walls.
The sudden, overwhelming blend of burning friction and fullness made your eyes roll back, an involuntary moan vibrating directly against Gaz’s cock. The tight constriction of your throat made Gaz grunt, his teeth biting into his lower lip from the sheer intensity of the feeling.
“That’s it, lass. Good little slut for us, aren’t you?” Soap grunted. He delivered a hard, encouraging pat to your thigh before gripping your hips in an iron hold, instantly picking up a brutal, rhythmically punishing pace.
You were quite the sight—stretched and thoroughly used at both ends by your fellow sergeants, completely caught in the middle of their raw, unbridled hunger. From the shadows of the room, Price and Ghost could only stand and watch. Their dark eyes were completely fixated on the chaotic spectacle, slowly stroking themselves in heavy anticipation for their own turn to completely ruin you.
Drool escaped the corner of your lips as you continued to take Kyle deep into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you looked up at him through tear-stained, lustful eyes. The visual alone was enough to push Gaz straight over the edge.
“S-shit, you’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you? Such a fucking slut” he panted, his chest heaving.
You let out a muffled, wicked little giggle around his length in response, which only caused his thrusts to become entirely erratic. His head snapped back in pure pleasure, his face completely scrunched up as he released a hot, heavy load straight down your throat. He kept his hands locked in your hair, holding himself deep in your mouth to ride out his high and ensure you swallowed every single drop of his cum.
Behind you, Johnny was close behind. His brutal thrusts were becoming sluggish and heavy, his deep, guttural grunts echoing off the dingy walls as his climax neared.
The moment Kyle finally pulled out of your mouth, Soap gripped your hips and flipped you over onto your back, pulling his twitching cock out just in time to release all over your chest. You let out a shaky moan, watching the sticky, white substance coat your sensitive breasts. You dipped a finger into the mess, licking it off your skin as Johnny milked himself dry above you.
“That’s it, lass. Rub it all over that pretty body,” Soap growled, his voice thick and raw. He reached up, his firm hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you into a deep, bruising kiss, forcing you to taste his juices on your own tongue as you submissively allowed him to invade your mouth one last time.
You lay there flat on the weathered mattress, completely fucked out and floating in a haze of pure bliss—entirely unaware that you weren’t even close to being done.
From the shadows, the two older men stepped forward, stalking over to the edge of the bed like apex predators finally cornering their prey.
“Why don’t you lads go get cleaned up,” Price instructed. His voice was entirely calm, but it carried the unyielding weight of an order rather than a suggestion. Before either sergeant could even think to protest, they gathered their gear and slipped out of the room, quiet, satisfied smirks plastered across their faces.
Then, the door clicked shut, leaving you entirely at the mercy of your Captain and Lieutenant.
You could only let out a weak, breathy whimper as you looked up at the two men standing over you, their expressions dark with a terrifying, unyielding intensity. Your naked body was utterly dwarfed by their massive, towering builds, and the stark contrast only added to the frantic nervousness fluttering in your chest.
You knew right then and there that they had absolutely no intention of being gentle with you.
Dropping to your knees between them, you were completely caged by their sheer size. Their heavy, scarred hands began to roam freely over your already exhausted body—tugging at your waist, squeezing your hips, and delivering sharp, possessive slaps to your breasts that wrung helpless mewls of pleasure from your lips.
“Captain, I—”
You were cut off instantly by a sharp, stinging slap to your cheek. It wasn't enough to truly hurt, but the force of it was more than enough to put you directly in your place and let you know exactly who owned the room now.
“It’s Daddy to you, little miss,” Price commanded sternly.
His thick fingers clamped around your jaw, his thumb roughly forcing its way past your lips. Driven by the sudden, intoxicating shift in the dynamic, you immediately began to suck on his thumb, your wide, needy eyes locking onto his.
With his free hand, he reached down and pinched your nipple, calloused fingers rolling the hyper-sensitive bud so ruthlessly that a muffled yelp escaped around his thumb.
“Use your words, little miss,” his voice dropped to a deep, gravelly rasp.
“Y-yes, Daddy,” you managed to choke out, your chest heaving as you looked up at him through long lashes.
A low, gruff voice from directly behind you pulled you right out of your dazed thoughts. “Here’s how it works, dove,” Simon murmured, his tone cold, commanding, and absolutely unyielding.
“Since you were brave enough earlier to pull that stunt, we're going to see just how much you really mean it. You won’t disappoint us, right, little one?”
It was terrifying how easily you crumbled into a desperate, eager-to-please mess the second Ghost gave you an instruction. But before you could even nod, a massive, gloved hand slid between your thighs, finding your over-stimulated nub and pinching it firmly.
“What did we say about using your words, princess?” Simon warned, his voice vibrating against your back.
“Y-yes, s-sir… I’ll b-be so good,” you breathlessly choked out, completely undone by the agonizingly beautiful pressure building all over again.
"Good girl", Simon praised from behind.
Price lay back on the mattress, his dark eyes fixed on your trembling form as Simon lifted you with effortless, terrifying strength, guiding you directly over the captain’s waiting cock.
If you had thought Gaz and Soap were big, you were in for a brutal, rude awakening.
Price’s large hands clamped securely onto your hips, providing the leverage to slowly and unyieldingly ease you down onto his massive, twitching size. He stretched your tight walls like nothing you had ever experienced before.
Panicking from the sheer fullness of him, you instinctively tried to pull away and escape, but the iron grip on your hips held you completely paralyzed in mid-air, forcing you to take him.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Nearly there,” Price cooed, his breath hitching as he felt your tight, aching muscles convulsively swallow him down, forcing you to sink all the way onto his terrifying length.
Your aching core finally bottomed out against him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. But just as you thought the worst of the stretching was over, Simon’s massive hands slid around your waist, adjusting your posture and tilting your hips forward.
His heavy palm pressed flat against your spine, pinning you in place as he lined himself up directly at your tight backdoor entrance. His tip was already leaking pre-cum with anticipation, rubbing in small, maddening circles against the hyper-sensitive skin of your second hole. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact.
“Be a good girl and breathe in for me, dove,” Simon murmured darkly.
Before you could even draw air into your lungs, a sharp, burning fullness invaded your lower half as he shoved himself straight inside you without an ounce of warning.
Your head flew back, your eyes rolling to the ceiling as a breathless, ragged scream died in your throat. The absolute pressure of having both of your superiors' cocks stretching both holes simultaneously was overwhelming. If it was even possible, Simon felt even larger and thicker than Price—which shouldn't have been surprising given the sheer, beastly size of the Lieutenant.
You were practically seeing stars. Your mind completely whited out as the two older men began a brutal, unyielding rhythm, bullishly pistoning in and out of your poor, tired holes with a relentless, synchronised force.
Your legs were shaking violently at this point, entirely spent and completely unable to keep you steady. But you didn't have to worry about collapsing; two sets of massive, heavily calloused hands held you in an iron vice, keeping you firmly locked in place as they thoroughly broke you in.
“Fuck…” Simon started
“That’s it. You’re so fucking good for us, little dove,” Simon growled, his deep voice vibrating right through your back. The raw praise only amped up your bliss, making your head spin. With what little strength you had left, you leaned back against his massive chest, hooking a tired arm around his neck to pull him even closer into you.
“Knew she would make us proud,” Price beamed, his eyes completely transfixed on your flushed, completely fucked-out face. He gripped your hips even tighter, brutally picking up the pace from below.
The room was filled with the lewd, echoes of wet friction and heavy skin slapping against skin, completely drowning out your strangled moans.
“F-fuck… i-it’s too m-much,” you practically begged, your voice cracking as you felt that familiar, tight knot in your stomach winding up all over again.
But your desperate pleas only encouraged your superiors to push you even harder, driving you right over the cliff.
Before you could even process the sensory overload, your climax tore through you yet again. Your entire body went completely limp against Simon, your muscles twitching helplessly. There was no physical way you could keep this up, but the two men had absolutely no intention of letting you off the hook just yet.
“What do you think, Cap? I think she’s got at least one more in her, don’t you agree?” Ghost asked. His breath was ragged and hot against your ear, and you felt his large, heavy hand slide up to wrap firmly around your neck, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to restrict your breath and force your head back against his shoulder.
The sudden restriction of oxygen made your vision blur with stars, your pulse hammering frantically against his palm as your tight, overstimulated cunt convulsed around them.
“Think you’re right, Lieutenant,” Price panted, his dark eyes darkening further as he watched your helpless, choked-up expression.
With that, their rhythm became even more brutal than before, their heavy bodies pistoning in a relentless, synchronized assault.
All three of you were completely slick with sweat now.
Simon kept his iron grip on your throat, using his other hand to reach around your torso, finding your hyper-sensitive, throbbing clit and rolling it at an evil, unforgiving pace that made you screech out a muffled cry.
At the same time, Price leaned up, capturing one of your sensitive nipples between his teeth and sucking hard enough to leave a deep, dark bruise.
You had never experienced this much overwhelming pleasure in your entire life. Somehow, your body found a second wind, and you crashed into another shattering orgasm—so intense you genuinely thought you were going to explode.
Both men were right behind you. With a final few deep, punishing thrusts, they both let out guttural roars, spilling their hot, heavy cum deep inside your holes, completely filling you to the brim.
As they finally pulled out, your legs gave way entirely. They gently lowered your trembling, spent body onto the weathered mattress before stepping back and standing up.
Lying flat on your back, you could only blink through the haze, admiring their toned, god-like statures. They stood panting in the dim light, their skin glistening with a mixture of sweat and your own slick juices as they proudly admired their handiwork.
“You did well, Sergeant,” Simon murmured, his voice returning to its usual quiet rumble. “Maybe that'll teach you to not be a brat in the future”, he teased, turning to leave the room to grab you a glass of water in a merciful attempt to bring you back down to reality.
“Think this should probably become a regular team-building exercise,” Price panted, chuckling to himself as he followed closely behind the Lieutenant.
You lay there frozen on the mattress, your muscles twitching as you tried to comprehend what the absolute fuck had just happened—while secretly hoping this was far from the last time they’d break you in.
This is heavily inspired by @twolegsandbleeds and their Simon can’t flirt series<3 (go read it. It’s amazing.)
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Simon Riley didn’t do soft.
He didn’t do gentle smiles across a room or teasing glances that lingered too long. He didn’t know how to lean against a wall and charm someone with a few well placed words. Those were things other men did—men who grew up in homes where love looked like laughter and warm dinners.
Simon grew up where love looked like broken dishes and bruised knuckles.
So when he realized he liked you, it confused the hell out of him.
It started small. You worked nearby—same building, different department. He’d seen you around enough to recognize the soft way you moved through rooms, like you were trying not to disturb the air. Always polite. Always quiet. Eyes that never quite held his for long.
At first, he thought you avoided him because of the mask.
Wouldn’t be the first.
But then he started noticing other things.
The way you’d freeze when he walked past, shoulders going stiff. The way your fingers would tighten around whatever you were holding. The way you’d duck your head so quickly he barely caught a glimpse of your face.
Right.
You were scared of him.
Simon leaned back in his chair in the rec room one night, arms crossed as he stared at the ceiling.
Brilliant, Riley.
Still… it didn’t stop the feeling.
It was strange, liking someone. He didn’t know what to do with it. Soap had once said something about flirting—buying drinks, cracking jokes, smiling.
Simon wasn’t about to start cracking jokes.
After two weeks of overthinking it, he came to a conclusion.
Best to just ask.
Direct.
Clear.
Efficient.
All the things he was good at.
So the next morning, when he saw you standing alone near the coffee machine, he decided that was as good a moment as any.
You didn’t notice him at first.
You were focused on the coffee cup in your hands, carefully stirring sugar into it. Humming under your breath as the small spoon clinked softly against the ceramic.
Simon approached like he would a hostile building.
Measured steps. Quiet. Controlled.
When he stopped behind you, his shadow fell across the counter.
You noticed immediately.
Your shoulders stiffened.
Slowly—very slowly—you turned.
And then you saw him.
Six foot something of silent military presence, broad shoulders filling the small breakroom doorway. His skull mask stared down at you, dark eyes watching from behind it.
Your brain immediately chose panic.
Your hands tightened around the coffee cup like it might protect you.
Simon studied you for a moment.
You looked… small.
Not weak. Just… delicate. Like if someone spoke too loudly you might flinch.
He frowned slightly behind the mask.
Right.
Words.
He cleared his throat.
It came out rough.
“You.”
That did not help.
Your eyes widened immediately.
Simon mentally swore.
He tried again.
“You’re… uh.”
Christ.
Why was this harder than interrogation?
“You’re the one who works down the hall.”
Your voice came out soft and nervous.
“Y-yes, sir.”
Sir.
He hated that.
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh—sorry—”
You looked like you were about two seconds from apologizing yourself into the floor.
Right. Focus.
Simon straightened slightly, forcing himself to just say it.
His tone was blunt. Matter-of-fact.
“I want to take you out.”
Your brain completely short-circuited.
“…what?”
Simon nodded once, like he was confirming a mission objective.
“Dinner. Or coffee.” He gestured vaguely at the machine. “Whatever people do.”
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Your face slowly turned pink.
Simon misread your silence immediately.
His stomach dropped.
Right. Of course.
Why would someone like you want anything to do with someone like him.
“You don’t have to,” he said quickly, voice flattening into its usual military tone. “Was just askin’. Forget it.”
He started to turn away.
And that’s when you panicked.
“N-no!”
Simon froze.
Slowly, he turned back.
You were gripping your coffee cup with both hands, face red, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
“I mean—” you swallowed hard. “I—I’d like that.”
Simon stared at you.
“You would.”
It wasn’t a question.
You nodded quickly.
“Y-yes.”
Simon studied you again.
You were clearly terrified.
Fidgeting. Avoiding his gaze. Nervous energy practically vibrating off you.
And yet… you said yes.
Something unfamiliar settled quietly in his chest.
Not pride.
Not victory.
Just… warmth.
He nodded once.
“Alright.”
You waited.
Simon waited.
Neither of you moved.
Finally you asked softly, “S-so… when?”
Simon considered it like he was planning a tactical operation.
“Friday.”
“O-okay.”
“Six.”
“Okay.”
Another pause.
You looked like you might faint.
Simon shifted awkwardly.
Then, after a moment, he added gruffly,
“I won’t wear the mask.”
Your head snapped up in surprise.
Simon rubbed the back of his neck again, clearly uncomfortable.
“Figured it might help.”
Your expression softened just a little.
And for the first time since the conversation started…
You smiled.
It was small.
Shy.
But real.
Simon felt something in his chest do a strange, unfamiliar flip.
Yeah.
Maybe this whole flirting thing wasn’t as hard as he thought.
You murmur amid desperate moans. The bed frame creaks as the movements of whoever is fucking you intensify.
Johnny grabs your chin tightly, brushing his lips against your cheek as he speaks in an irritatingly complacent voice.
"Oh, come on, bonnie, try a little harder."
The four men — Price, Simon, Johnny, and Kyle — had blindfolded you and tied your hands to the bed. The intention was to play a "guessing game," as Soap had dubbed it, but with one condition: you only get to cum if you guess who it is. Now, you are desperately trying to get your relief.
"Ughh... I don't know. Is it Simon?"
You guess sadly, eliciting a feigned sigh of disappointment from Johnny.
"I don't want to hear you saying anything, baby. Come on, feel that cock. Think: who makes love to you like this, huh?"
You do as the sargent says — think a little more, which is difficult when the man penetrating you makes you see stars. You feel — the well-defined veins, the long but not too thick length that could reach deep inside you, the firm but not too rough movements. It could only be one person.
"Kyle! It's Kyle, isn't it?"
You try again, and get a satisfied chuckle from the rest of the men.
The figure above you, who you now know to be Kyle, leans over your body, planting a slow kiss on your lips.
"Thank God, baby. I had to hold myself back from moaning with that tight little pussy of yours."
And they do as they promised: Kyle continues his advances on you while Johnny reaches down to caress your clit until you reach your limit.
In the next round, you're lying face down, mouth open, ready to receive the next cock. The man approaches you slowly, grabbing his penis while holding your chin delicately with one large hand. Your mouth is guided to the tip, which is already dripping with pre-ejaculate. This time, it's Price who is encouraging you.
"Hey, honey? Whose cock is this, huh?"
The hoarse voice whispers in your ear, pausing to distribute wet kisses down your jaw, neck, and collarbone.
You distribute provocative kisses along the blunt tip, and the man allows you to do whatever you want with him. Soon your tongue leaves your mouth to lick a long streak of saliva along its entire length. Then you realize: this penis is huge. It could be two options: Johnny or Simon. To remove the only doubt you had left, you wrapped your mouth around the glans, sucking and licking the sensitive skin before taking the penis almost entirely down your throat. From your conclusions, it could only be one person: Simon.
With a pop, you took the cock out of your mouth for a moment just to say, convinced:
"It's Simon."
Price let out a satisfied murmur.
"That's right, sweetheart. You know us so well."
As soon as you made Simon ejaculate in your mouth, the man was already laying you down on the bed, going down to suck your pussy with desire.
johnny was the easiest to domesticate. let him eat you out for a few hours and he'd be happy to rub your feet and watch your reality shows with you. even better if you're watching your shows while he eats you out. you ask him an opinion about it, he grunts in response (but only because you tugged his hair).
john likes to think he domesticated you, but it's really the other way around. you pout as you rub his shoulders and he does anything you ask. including semi retirement. it wasn't on the cards until you came along. you knew exactly what buttons to press to get anything you wanted from him.
simon saw the way johnny bent his knee to your every whim. called him a pathetic mutt when he saw him buried between your thighs. "not a pathetic mutt," you said, smoothing johnny's hair back. "just knows what's best for him."
simon rolled his eyes, but he found himself watching you and johnny more and more. a pretty smile, a batt of your eyelashes, and he was ready to fall at your feet, too.
kyle was the smart one of the group, clearly. he watched with an amused smile as you had everybody else dancing around you, doing anything you wanted. he wasn't going to break so easily.
he raised his eyebrow at you as john passed you a cup of tea. he kissed your head and sat down with the newspaper as johnny threw a blanket over you. simon hadn't made an appearance yet, but he'd be all over you once he did.
"enjoying yourself, sweet?" kyle asked, entirely too amused.
simon walked in just in time for you to pass your steaming cup of tea to him. he took it and took a sip (you enjoyed the same amount of sugar in your tea: entirely too much).
"maybe i am," you said as you sauntered over to kyle. slipping onto his lap, you wound your arms around his neck. "c'mon, kyle," you said with a pout, nails scratching against his scalp. "don't you think you'd be happier if you just gave in?"
"saying you don't like the challenge, hon?" he asked, hands on your hips.
"i love one." you went to kiss him, just about held back. torture for him, but kyle knew it was torture for you, too. he was willing to keep this up as long as you were. you may have domesticated the others, but kyle wasn't going to let you domesticate him.
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Hybrid!Reader who has become so touch starved since joining the 141– you get desperate.
You’re just not used to it being with them since they took you from your real— no you’re bad owner.
He wasn’t bad to you. Atleast, that’s what you thought. That’s what your heart told you.
Him being gone didn’t mean to just start acting out of character, it was hard to adjust. To live somewhere new, and to sleep alone, and not being told what to do when you needed some help. You knew the list to control yourself ingrained in the back for your brain.
Deep breath, hide your ears & tail, another deep breath and there wouldn’t be a reason to be so hyper all the time, another breath, and he’d do all the thinking for you. Don’t worry that pretty little head, he said.
And it wasn’t so easy on the 141 either. You’d go on missions, listen so well and when all is said and done you’d dart to your bedroom. Didn’t want to hang out or just talk outside of work. The one place that’d become your safe haven. The one place that had your previous owners shirt that started to smell less and less like him.
You couldn’t help but feel more and more alone even when you were surrounded by people.
But you started noticing things from being so alone.
You’d realized something as Gaz was patching up in the helicopter— they all have big hands. Large Calloused hands with thick fingers. John’s were hairy, so rough from working in the field for so long, you’d felt his hand on the back of your neck while he guided you somewhere, he runs warm.
Gaz’s hands are so well taken care of, manicured, long like he could be a hand model but still rough, like he’d been to hell before despite his softer exterior, and always has the least bit of grime unlike Soap’s.
His are a little shorter, but thicker, he a few tattoos on the back of his hands, a couple rings always stay on his fingers with chipped nail polish.
And then there’s Simon, who has the largest hands, most rough despite him wearing gloves, there are a lot of scars, maybe even a burn or two, said himself, “Almost lost my thumb with this one.”
And it makes you almost yearn to hear the story behind it, feel his— or any of their hand on you and rub your back or pay your head while you sleep.
It was an act of you being desperate for something. Anything. Dead of night during a mission, you managed to sneak passed Simon and John, light as a feather. You stood over the makeshift cot Gaz was sleeping in with bags under your eyes, exhausted. You bend down on your knees, laying your head on his stomach and placed his hand to cup your face, letting his thumb drag itself across your cheek. So soft, so warm— had your ears and tail popped out from holding it in for so long. Tail swishing from excitement. You were out like a light before you could try to regain yourself.
It took everything in Gaz to not react when he’d found you there, sleeping so soundly on him. Pretending to be asleep once you finally woke up so cutely.
And then Soap who has patted your knee after a tiring mission, you couldn’t even control your body when he shyed away, firmly placing his hand back to where it belonged on your thigh before resting your head on his shoulder to take a quick nap.
Simon who unconsciously tickles the bottom of your chin just like Soap and Gaz when they listen well, you can’t help your tail quickly swishing behind you, nuzzling your face in his hand.
And then John, who takes his big hand in yours whenever he has to take you anywhere. Worse, he’ll let his hand find your back, soothingly rubbing circles on your waist—
Okay, maybe you were starting to see the benefits of the 141.
a/n: part 1. This was kinda sloppy but I have vision I think.
You Wake up to the sound of the door rattling. The training of the boys immediatly Kicks in.
You open your bedside drawer getting the Small gun they made you get lisensed for. You disengage the safety on the weapon and get out of bed.
The rustling stopped but now you hear havy feet drag over the floor downstairs.
Slowly you open the bedroomdoor, you see the lights downstairs. Deep voices reach your ears and you stop in your tracks. Your sleep mind doesnt recolect the voices which makes you inch closer to the stairs.
a man with a weird looking hairstyle walks up the stairs.
Before you think you shoot a warning shot into the wall next to the Mans head.
a short silence follows the shot before the man starts screaming.
"Bonnie it´s just me." soap Holds up his hands in surrender and your Brain finally understands that the only thing that happend was that your boys came back home.
The gun sinks back down and you look at soap who´s wearing his big smile.
"You´re.... You´re home." you nearly throw yourself at the golden Retriever man.
Soap catches you in a hug, picks you up and goes back down the stairs to the others.
"We trained our lassie good. And we might have to fix our wall." Soap laughs when he hands you off to gaz.
