Dick Remembered A Word To Say When People Are Yelling!! Man, I Wonder Where He Learned That...

posessive

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him

Yes I like fictional characters a very normal amount. Don’t look at my blog.

Honey, We talked about this.

Is it a blessing or a curse to fall for a man who bears the weight of nameless sins, a killer haunted by his own guilt?

I mean, isn’t Soap the same as Ghost? They work in the same field and do mostly the same things. Just because Soap has a lighter step doesn’t mean he doesn’t have skeletons in his closet; he isn’t invulnerable to guilt, and maybe, just maybe, he finds comfort in knowing that both of them are damned to hell.

"Home, In All But Name"

Summary: The war’s loud. The world’s rough. But here, in this room, among these misfits, killers, and brothers — it almost feels like home.

Rating: wholesome, cozy, found family fluff

Soap was snoring on the couch again.

One boot half on, the other discarded somewhere under Price’s desk, his head hung off the armrest at an angle that couldn’t be healthy. Gaz had tried waking him up twice already, only to get a swat and a muttered, “M’fine, mum.”

Ghost sat in the corner, legs kicked up on the table, sharpening a knife with lazy, deliberate strokes. Every once in a while, he’d glance over at you from behind the skull mask, not saying a word — just checking. Just watching.

Price walked in with a tray of mugs, black coffee for himself and Ghost, tea for you, and whatever chaos-fueled mix Soap claimed helped him sleep like a rock. He handed you yours first, giving your shoulder a little squeeze as he passed.

“Everyone alive?” he asked dryly.

“Physically,” Gaz muttered from where he was trying to untangle Soap’s comms wire from his bootlace. “Emotionally? Jury’s out.”

Price chuckled, deep and warm. “Close enough.”

You sat back in your chair, wrapping your hands around your mug, letting the silence settle in. It was a quiet kind of peace — the kind you only found in the lulls between missions. No gunfire. No yelling. Just the low buzz of the heater, the clink of metal, and the occasional snore from the couch.

Ghost leaned back, mask tilted toward you. “You good?”

You nodded. “Yeah. This helps.”

“This?” he asked.

You gestured vaguely — to all of it. Soap drooling on the couch. Gaz swearing at tangled cords. Price humming something under his breath. Ghost sharpening his third knife for no reason.

“This. You guys.”

Ghost didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “You help too.”

Masterlist

cw: dubcon, manipulation, babytrapping?

You ask Alpha!Gaz to spend your heat with you because he’s so chill. He’s always treated you just like one of the guys— since day one. Never once mentioned your designation, because he doesn’t care about that kind of thing, right? So when you ask him why his teeth are at your throat he smiles and laughs like you’re being silly, and says “I’ve been courting you for as long as I’ve known you, love.”

You ask Alpha!Soap to spend your heat with you because he’s so promiscuous. He’s slept with everyone on base, no strings attached, no broken hearts— obviously he’s a man who knows how to keep it casual, right? But when you’re pressed against him, stuck on his knot, he’s rubbing your stomach and asking “How many pups ye want, bonnie? Ah was thinkin’ we’d have a proper big family.”

You ask Alpha!Ghost to spend your heat with you because he doesn’t really seem to like anyone. Not the type to form attachments. Won’t give any part of himself to anyone, right? But he keeps you prone and pinned with his massive body, oriented so he can watch the door, grunting “You’re mine now, understand? Anyone who tries to get between me and my mate s’gonna end up torn apart.”

You ask Alpha!Price to spend your heat with you because he’s your commanding officer. He’s always been calm, cool, and completely professional with you. He wouldn’t compromise the structure of the team over some biological event, right? But he’s panting, tongue soothing over the fresh mark in your neck, telling you he’ll have a talk with your landlord once your heat is over about breaking your lease. “Gotta get you moved in with me, darl’. Pups’ll need more space to run around. What color do y’want the nursery?”

You ask Alpha!Nikolai to spend your heat with you because you trust him, but you don’t exactly have a relationship. You work with him some of the time, and he’s a good man, but he lives across the globe. He wouldn’t disrupt his globetrotting lifestyle to settle down with some omega he barely knows, right? But he’s cooing honeyed words in your ear that you can’t understand, one hand pawing at your abdomen while the other is at your throat, rubbing your gland and bringing the blood to the surface in preparation for his bite. “Imagine the look on John’s face— when he sees I’ve poached his prettiest little sergeant for myself…”

not the bad vibes 😓

tim is so done

are you man enough?

tiny task force