Spec Ops One Shots

Wear This (Tank x Reader)

It's a rainy day on campus, and all you want to do is leave your dorm room. You flop down onto your bed and aimlessly scroll through your phone. Should you get food? No, you're not hungry. Maybe study? No you already did that for way too long. Any longer and you're over doing it.

You glance at the calendar on your wall. There is a career fair next weekend. Rolling out of bed, you assess your closet so you can plan an outfit. You want to look professional, but all your clothes scream either "Highschool" or "My Mom Bought This In 1970". Not quite the look you want.

Oh, how about I go shopping! you think to yourself. You grab your phone again, wanting to invite one of your friends to go along with you. Mmm, no she's with her boyfriend right now.... no, she's working,... oh, why don't I just ask Tank? He doesn't really do much outside of school. I'm pretty sure he's not working.

You hit the call button and listen as your phone rings, waiting for Tank to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Are you free right now?"

"Uh, pretty much. What's up?"

"Will you go shopping with me?" you ask. "I need a new dress for the career fair."

"Uh," he pauses. "I mean sure. I'll pick you up in 5."

"Great, thanks Tank!"

~time skip brought to you by Riot's body cam~

"Ok, let's go try these on!"

You'd been dragging your extremely tall friend around your favorite store all afternoon. Each of you had picked out a few dresses, and now you were going to try them on.

"Show me each one. I want to give my opinion before your discount any of my choices," laughs Tank. You elbow him in the the ribs. He had purposefully picked a super short slip dress, the nerve of him. Looking up, you glare at him.

"Aight Brick House, whatever you say, but after this, I'm definitely making you try one on too."

From behind his mask, Tank sputters as you enter the dressing room and shut the door. God, he's such...ah, who are you kidding? You'd wear whatever he picked out for you, regardless of length. You truly are a simp for a seven foot man.

However, the first dress you try on was one of your own picks. A very simple, shapeless, black cocktail dress. It hits below your knees, and has 3/4 sleeves. When you walk out of the dressing room, Tank fake heaves.

"Bleh," he spits out. "Definitely not. That dress looks like something a nun would wear to a funeral."

"It's not that bad!" You retort. However, looking in the mirror again, you silently agree with Tank. Not this one.

"Next, come on babes, try one of mine," Tank taunts in a fake British accent. You laugh as your face turns pink, then shut the door to the fitting room again.

Just in spite of him, you pick another one of your choices to try on next. It's a much more flattering a-line dress in deep navy blue. The hemline hits above your knee this time, and best of all, it has pockets!

As you step out of the fitting room, you declare, "I like this one!" and swish the skirt around a bit. You also show off the pockets and do a little spin.

"It looks really good on you," Tank says softly. You can tell he's staring at you from behind his visor. His hands are clasped together, covering his waist. He looks super relaxed.

"Is that what you really think?" you ask.

He leans forward. "Yes, it looks amazing on you," he reclines back again, moving his hands behind his head. "But aren't you going to try on one of the ones I picked out?"

"Ugh, fine you bossy cow," you smile, shutting the fitting room door a third time. One that he picked out, one that he picked...oh.

When you put the dress on, you feel like a whole new person. Red silk, thigh slit, hemline at mid thigh. It hits your curves in all the right ways, and really accentuates your natural beauty. Damn, you look fine as fuck.

When you step out of the dressing room, Tank gives of a low whistle and stands up. You crane your neck to meet his eye line as he walks towards you. He continues his path around you, and you can feel his eyes raking you up and down.

"Shit, you look sexy in this one," he mutters from behind you. One of his gloved hands sneaks onto your waste.

"Hey," you smack his hand away. "This dress gives the wrong vibes for a career fair, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Tank mutters, lowering his masked head to be level with your ear. "But this one looks the best by fair."

Your face turns bright red when he says this, and you promptly scurry back into the fitting room. Screw the rest of the dresses, you liked the second one enough.

You exit the fitting room with your new navy dress in your hand. Tank had returned to his seat while you were changing. He looks up.

"Ready to go so soon? What about the other dresses?"

"I like this one. It's good enough. I'm going to the check out now," you say, still blushing.

"Ok, then I'm gonna quickly run to the bathroom. Then I'll drive you home," he says, standing up and towering over you. He walks off, and you make your way to the register.

After paying, you wait around for Tank. You spot him walking towards you with a bag in hand.

"What's that?" you ask, finally done blushing. He hands you the bag, and placed both of his hands in his pockets. You open the bag to see the third dress you tried on. Red Silk.

You blush again, and Tank leans down to be level with your face.

"Maybe you can wear this for me sometime," he whispers, grabbing you by the waist and leading you back to the car. You're too stunned to respond, but you don't say no. Goddamn this huge man is smooth.