#cod x f!reader

[villifx]

how the task force 141 men react to you complaining about your job (f!reader) ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

simon doesn't even blink as you throw your head into his lap, eyes still focused on the television while his hand subconsciously moves to smooth your hair.

"jus' quit."

you pause in the midst of your whining, staring up at him like he'd just grown a second head. "what?"

simon shrugs. "makin' enough."

"i... i can't quit my job, simon."

his eyebrows twitch up a bit, indifferent. "up to you, love."

you pause, considering. "well..."

johnny doubles down. not only does he tell you to quit immediately, he also throws in that the military will pay him extra if you two get married.

mind you, johnny already rates BAH and has been making it since before you two got together. there won't really be any change to his pay besides separation pay when he's gone for more than a month. however, this is his opportunity to gauge your reaction to the idea of marriage, and he's taking it.

kyle. sweet, sweet kyle. he doesn't tell you to quit. not because he wouldn't support you financially - he absolutely would - but because he knows how important it can be for a woman to have a sense of independence. he also worries about how you'll handle the potential isolation if he's away for an extended period of time and you don't have a job to occupy your time. also, he's happy to pay the bills, but if you're working then you can afford all of the pretty things you want and deserve!

john? john price? ... funny of you to think that you're working while you're with that man, lol.

note: was bored and wrote this in like 10 mins. just had to be done lol. BAH is Basic Allowance for Housing in the American military (i'm not super familiar with british military allowances so using BAH for easy fic purposes lmao) - lower ranking enlisted military that are married can get it or single qualified enlisted (usually ranked sergeant and above) can be approved for it. it's extra pay that you receive to live off-base to cover housing expenses calculated by average cost of rent in the area and family size!

[ebodebo]

Hot For Teacher!

—professor!simon riley teaching anatomy… MDNI

(DISCLAIMER: in this fic, the reader is getting their master's, so reader is an adult! that said, this is still a student-professor relationship, so beware!)

"I heard he was from Germany….or somewhere."

"He's probably sooo old."

"I can't find his rate my professor anywhere!"

"I heard he only has one leg!"

Murmurs can be heard spread around the room; your fellow graduates flooded the lecture hall seats, not an empty seat out of fifty in site. They were itching with anticipation and anxiously awaiting the arrival of your new gross anatomy professor, including yourself.

You were even more nervous than when you had to present your senior thesis for your bachelor's to four of the most knowledgeable, bright minds you had ever come into contact with.

That was intimidating, but this somehow feels worse. You find yourself sinking into the squeaky plastic chair, praying that whoever walks through that door is as gracious and kind as your last professor.

Heavy steps echoed down the hallway, slowly and steadily etching closer and closer to the room you sat in. Your eyes nervously shifted up to look at the wide open front door, and you tapped your foot, restlessly, to a non-existent beat in your head.

The footsteps became louder and louder until the man finally stood in the doorway, sparing the class not even a singular glance. He steadily turned to the right and walked up to the chalkboard, back towards the class, carefully etching something onto the board with a small piece of chalk.

The murmurs around the room seized as the screeching noise of the chalk against the board bounced off the walls and went straight into everyone's eardrums.

It was a quick, illegible scribble.

He set the piece of chalk down and turned to face the class, eyes roaming around the room, allowing you to get a better look at him.

He wore a black surgical mask just below his nose, covering his lips and jaw. And, God, was he tall. He had to be at least six-two, maybe even six-four. He wore a charcoal gray button-up tight enough to display his broad shoulders and buff biceps, with kaki cargo pants that did nothing to hide his thick thighs. 

Fuck, he was hot.

"Your last professor was quite lenient," his gravelly voice echoes around the room as he begins, leaning his hip on the table before him. "Don't expect that from me."

His eyes roamed some more, and the murmurs you heard about how hot he was seized as he spoke again. "If you think this class will be easy, you're sorely mistaken. Excellence is the bare minimum I expect from each of you," he sternly says. "I don't tolerate excuses. You're in the wrong place if you can't meet the deadlines."

You didn't know the first time meeting your professor would just end up with him lecturing you about his obscure conditions and rules like this was a damn military base.

You try to remember if this course was even required for your degree: it is.

"If you miss class, don't bother returning," he continues. The mood in the room had shifted entirely. There was no excitement left; it had been completely sucked out and replaced by regret and anguish. You swore you even saw some people with their computers quickly going to your university's directory, hoping they could still withdraw from a course.

"Lastly, mediocrity has no place in here. Push yourselves or find another course," he gruffed, pushing himself off the desk he leaned on and maneuvering back over to the chalkboard.

"What are the instructions on the board?" Your eyes snapped to a random girl raising her hand adjacent to you, and you were surprised by her bravery in speaking.

The professor glanced at the girl.

“Ah, yes. These are instructions on how to withdraw from this course if you so choose," he said. "Save me the headache and you, your dignity, and withdraw now if you cannot abide by my terms," he almost seemed disinterested. "Also, you will call me Dr. Riley."

He picked up the chalk, quickly etching a strand of words onto it. "These are my office hours," he says, setting the chalk back down. "Any questions?" He asked, turning to face the class.

Not a single peep can be heard. There was only a tiny squeak from one of the chairs. He crosses his arms. "Alright. Quiz tomorrow. Class dismissed," he concludes. You freeze up in your chair as everyone around you starts moving as quickly as possible to get out of there.

You're wondering what you learned today that could be material for a quiz. Instead of waiting behind to ask, you shuffle your things in a bag and speed walk out of there.

This was going to be a long semester.

It was three months in, and this class was kicking your ass. 

No, that's not right. The class was outwardly blistering your entire existence. You pulled countless all-nighters to try and keep up with the material, but it was too much. There weren't enough hours in the day to study the copious amount of material.

It didn't help that Dr. Riley was a bit of a dick. He gave no leniency. Can't make the exam? Too bad. F. Didn't make class? Yikes. Get ready to recite the last lecture in front of the class when you return! Can't answer a question he asks? Well, well, it looks like we have a slacker on our hands. Have a lovely time writing an entire essay on the topic question you failed to answer!

"Can anyone explain the process of bone repair following a fracture?" Dr. Riley questions, taking his eyes off the chalkboard and turning towards the now half-full class. You snap out of your daydream, carefully looking back to your computer to continue typing what he writes.

Everyone averts their eyes from him to avoid getting called on. "No takers?" He asks once more, eyes narrowing slightly. You look over the top of your computer, eyes wondering over the messy array of notes he wrote to try and decipher them. "You," he says, flicking a finger towards you. "Give it a go."

Your eyes flick to his before widening in horror. Shit. You hadn't even gone over this week's slides because you were still working on the hundreds of slides from last week. 

"Preferably today," he raises a brow, impatience written all over his face, crossing his arm over his chest. You take a deep breath, quickly scan your notes, and sublimely thank God you found what you needed.

"Well, first the bone goes through clot formation, then callus formation, then new bone tissue forms, then finally the bone remodels," you explain, issuing a polite smile after you finish, breathing out a sigh of relief as he nods.

"Uh-huh. It's a very interesting process. And do you know which of those processes has the longest duration?" He says blandly. You tilt your head a little, surprised to see he has another question.

"Well, I think that would be the bone remodeling," you affirm, shifting in your seat a little.

"And the shortest?" He quickly supplements. 

"Clot formation?" You say unsurely. 

"You seem unsure of your answer. Do you truly think it is clot formation?" He crosses his arms over his chest. 

You were sure of it, but then again, why would he ask you if you thought it was wrong if it was right? You open your eyes wider, almost like you have just had an epiphany. "I—no. It's callus formation," you say matter-of-factly.

"Incorrect," he says, uncrossing his arms and turning his back to you. "I suggest trusting your instincts next time." You sink deeper into your chair, hoping that somehow it will shield you from his scrutiny. 

"On that note, class dismissed." You quickly gather your belongings, but not before Dr. Riley pulls you aside to assign you a three-page, single-spaced essay about the formation of a bone after having a fracture due in two days.

"Also, be sure to discuss clot formation heavily," his voice carries a condescending tone. "So that when you present to the class, they understand the concept better than you did." 

Your brows furrow a little. "Wait, I do understand—" You begin, though he interrupts.

"That's all," he cooly says, turning to grab his things from the desk in the front before switching the light switch off and stepping around you to leave the room. "See you and your paper Wednesday." You scowled as he turned away from you to go to his office.

This was such bullshit. You answered all his question, but God forbid you answer one incorrectly—well, not even incorrectly; he just made you feel it was wrong.

This was far from over.

"Dr. Riley. I, um, I don't understand why I have to write an essay," you found yourself saying later that day in his office, around six p.m. or so, when most of the faculty had already called it a night and left. His eyes stayed laser-focused on some papers he was going over.

"You didn't answer my question," he says, scribbling something on the paper. 

You find yourself coming in, shutting the door behind you, and sitting on the chair before his desk. "Yes, I did. I answered all one hundred of them," you say matter-of-factly. The corners of his eyes crinkle as they finally flick to yours, clearly amused by your exaggeration. 

"One hundred, huh?" He sets the pen down, leaning back in his chair, threading his fingers together. Your eyes wander to his arms. He had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms covered in tattoos. 

You flick your eyes back to eyes in a panic, praying he didn't notice you essentially checking him out. "Yes, sir," you tried to keep your voice even.

"So, you want out of an essay I assigned to you? 

"I—well. I was hoping…" You trail off, eyes averting his.

"No," his tone is authoritative, final. You release a small breath, sagging into the chair, feeling defeated. However, you caught your eyes wandering back to his forearms before moving up to his biceps. Fuck. They would have busted out of his button-down if they were any bigger.

He was a massive asshole. But, so fucking hot nonetheless. Had the most enormous thighs and arms you'd ever seen. Taller than anyone you'd ever met. Had a gruff, thick English accent you drooled over. Not to mention his raging ego, which did something for you.

"What is it?" Your eyes snap to his. Oh, God. Not again. 

"Nothing," you said quickly. He looked puzzled. You sat back in the chair, smiling awkwardly. He followed, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs wider to get more comfortable.

You find your eyes drifting down, observing his clothed cock in his pants. "Nothing? Huh?" The corner of his lip quirks. You stare back at him; your face is hot, and your hands are clammy.

This time, there was no denying what it was you were ogling so intently. 

"Listen," he sits up a bit, placing his elbows on his desk and threading his fingers together. "I sympathize with your situation." You raise a brow because there is no way in hell he was sympathetic. His lip quips at your expression. "So, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma." That has you perking up in your seat, feeling a sense of hope.

"It's a bit...unorthodox," he mumbles, eyes boring into yours.

You squint your eyes in confusion. "Okay..." You trail off uneasily, sitting up a little straighter. "What did you have in mind?" He tilts his head up a little, carefully observing your face, before standing up and gripping the knot of the tie and carefully pulling it down so it rests lazily on his sternum. 

"Tell me," he prompts, easing his way around his desk to lean against the side you sit in front of. "What is it that caught your attention earlier?" You raise a brow, not only at his new position but also at his question.

"Pardon?" You prod. He lets out a small, scruffy, breathy laugh, crossing his arms over his chest and showcasing his huge biceps again. You release a slight breath as your eyes wander back to his arms. He tilts his head back as he examines your facial expression, dragging his eyes down your line of sight. He gives a breathy laugh as he realizes you are shamelessly checking him out. 

"Mhm," he hums. You snap your eyes to him in an instant, though this time you aren't embarrassed at the notion of him catching you. No. You wanted him to notice. Maybe, just maybe, then he'd finally find the courage to fuck you over his desk like you'd wanted since the first day he had arrived. "Your mind seems elsewhere," he observes.

"No, I'm—I'm just thinking," you whir, sitting in your chair.

He tilts his head back slightly. "What about?" His tone dripped with condescendence. He most definitely knew. He could read you like one of those fancy anatomy books he frequented. You lean back in your chair, legs spreading ever so slightly. His eyes glided to leer at your slightly agape legs. 

God, you had on that little fucking skirt you wore every so often. The damned thing was a couple of pieces of denim fabric. Not too short, but, ya, if you opened your legs at just the right angle, you could get a nice shot of your panties underneath. How lucky for your professor, who was at the receiving end of that.

"Oh, I don't know. Just things, you know?" You spread your legs just a little wider, and you swear you hear him release a breath. "It's the first day of fall tomorrow. Did you know that?" You casually say, spreading your legs that much further so he could get a better view of the wet spot already growing in your panties at him watching you. 

"I did." His voice was dry; he was surprised to get a damn word out. 

"Crazy, huh? Also, I'm thinking about our lecture tomorrow. What's it going to be on anyway?" You find yourself dragging your hand up your leg to the buttons of your shirt, carefully unclasping each of them gently. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans seeing you, legs spread, fingers fiddling with your cute little button-up top with frilly sleeves.

"Sexual reproduction," he gruffs, fingers moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. You get the final button of your shirt unclasped, carefully sliding it off and onto the floor, revealing a lacy bra that matches your panties. You honestly thought you'd be more nervous, but with a guy that hot and educated staring at you like you were the sexiest thing alive, how could you be?

"Maybe I should get a head-start, no?" You proposed as he unclasped his final button, slipping his shirt entirely off. Good-God. The man was chiseled and hairy. The scars etched into his skin only made him that much sexier. He reached for his tie next. "No, no. Leave it on," you voice, getting up from your chair to stand before him. 

His greedy hands instantly sought refuge on your waist, dragging his fingertips along the waistband of your panties, giving them a little pull. You release a slight whine as the elastic slaps back onto your skin.

"Like fuckin' music to my ears," he groans, pulling you flush to his body, ripping his mask off to encapsulate your lips with his hungry ones. 

You yelp into his mouth at the sudden sensation, though you find yourself getting into a rough rhythm. His hand's paw at your ass as yours covetously grips his shoulders. Although you were flush against him, you sought more contact. "I need—I need," you whined in his mouth. 

"Need me to what? Say it," he urged, hands slipping to thread through your hair, pulling it gently. Your mouth falls agape at the action, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan into his mouth once more.

"I need you to—to," you stutter, unable to speak from how out of breathe you were.

"Say it," he hissed, pulling your hair harder.

"Fuck me. Please," you finally managed to say. He wasted no time picking you up by the back of the thighs and hastily placing you on his desk, flinging the loose papers and books that dawned it on the floor.

You reached between you to undo his belt and pant button as he slipped your panties down so they dangled loosely around your ankles. 

Your lips never disconnecting once. 

Once you got his pants undown and he your panties, he gripped your waist, hoisting you so he could pound his cock into you. You both moan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck," he groans, "Feel so good." You press your lips back to his as he makes work pummeling into you, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips to get as much friction as he can.

You were sure you'd have purple and blue bruises tomorrow.

He brings his mouth to nip and kiss at the side of your neck, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. "Drivin' me fuckin' insane," he grits, teeth nipping your skin again. You whined, bringing your hands to thread through his hair.

"I drive you insane?" You breathe out, dumbfounded, his cock still sliding in and out of you at a hurried pace. His tongue brushes your neck until it reaches your lips, quickly bullying itself into the sanctity of your mouth.

"Such a good student. Aren't you?" He gruffs into your lips; your mouth hangs agape at the feeling of him in you. "Always do such good work. Don't you, sweetheart?" You moan at his words; he presses a thumb to stimulate your clit. "Fuck—you, you drive me mad," he grits, moving his thumb faster.

You let a string of incoherent words, too caught up with his cock in you and thumb on you to form any real words.

"Huh? Ya, ya. But you must know that already. Or else you wouldn't have worn this—" he signals to the matching bra and panty set you had worn, "to meet with me," he finishes. You respond with another pathetic whimper, feeling your impending climax.

The moment he whispers into the shell of your ear, "Better come quick, or I may change my mind about that paper," you're a goner. You clamp around him at record speed, gripping his shoulders impossibly tighter, as you loudly moan in his mouth. His fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips as his orgasm chases yours.

It takes both of you a second to catch your breaths, both heaving and chests rising with much pace. After you have caught your breath, he helps ease you off his desk, deftly reaching for your panties that slipped off your ankles in a frenzy and softly putting them back on you, followed by your skirt resting on the floor nearby.

You slipped your shirt back on, buttoning it as he focused on dressing himself. It didn't feel awkward like you had thought it was going to. Sure, it was quiet, but it was comforting.

You grabbed your bookbag, giving him a slight smile as you walked over to the closed door. "I appreciate you meeting with me. See you tomorrow, Dr. Riley," you kindly say.

He nodded, pulling his tie to rest neatly on his neck. "Don't forget about the paper," he plainly said, moving to pick up some of the loose papers on the floor.

A confused expression overtook your face. "I thought—" you began.

"I don't play favorites, sweetheart," he interrupted. "Write the paper."

Okay, he was still a dick, but oh well, sure, you'd write the damn paper, maybe even put a couple of errors in it so that he could deduct some points off, and you could request to meet with him again.

Ya, that sounded like a fine plan indeed.

a/n: inspired by a lovely who commented on my poll about professor!simon <33 @aiqsa (this took me so long omg)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[quitefawnish]

the prize of prey

knight!au, simon riley x reader, kyle garrick x reader, johnny mactavish x reader, brief soap x gaz, mentioned john price x reader

cw: noncon/dubcon, abuse of power

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: this is inspired by one of my classes actually, where we discussed how knights in the middle ages only had to court noble women, whereas any peasant woman was open to their desires, and they were in fact encouraged to do so. while this is disgusting as a concept, i am also disgusting, so ofc i wrote this..

Everyone in the kingdom knew to stay out of the way of the knights. It was a common sight to see a vendor being heckled by a group of knights while many people walked by without sparing a glance. So you were well aware of how fucked you were when a group of them approached you at the market.

They were in their casual wear but the scabbards at their hips spoke to their knight status. The first one that started the conversation had tanned skin and a crooked grin that caused the edges of his stark blue eyes to crinkle.

His brown hair was styled in a mohawk, with the hair on the sides of his head crudely shaven away, and by the nicks that were spread across his scalp, you guessed he did it himself.

“Well, hello there, bonnie,” he practically whispered in your ear.

His hands gripped your waist as he pulled himself to stand closer to you with his chest against your back.

You stiffened, turning your head slightly backwards to peer at him. You had seen the group of them wandering the market earlier and you had hoped that’s the last you would see of them. You were not so lucky.

The second one, to your relief, pulled Mohawk off of you.

“Don’t crowd her, ye git” He gave you a grin, acting as if his friend hadn’t just groped you a second ago, but you had to admit, he was so pretty, it almost worked.

He had brown skin and tight curls that were close-cropped to his head. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, and his brown eyes sparkled with a mirth you didn’t share.

“I’m Gaz” he said, then he pointed to Mohawk, “he’s Soap.”

“But ye can call me Johnny, if ye like,” Soap interrupted, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Gaz just shot him a glare and then pointed to the last man who had just been observing this whole interaction, “and this is Ghost.”

Ghost was a hulking creature of man, and if he wasn’t intimidating enough, he had on a skull-painted balaclava. Through the gap in the fabric you could see just his pale skin and soulless dark brown eyes that were boring into your soul.

You introduced yourself as they all stared at you expectantly.

“‘s a pretty name fer a pretty lass” Soap practically cooed at you.

This made you tuck further in yourself, wishing you could just disappear on the spot, “I.. don’t think this is appropriate.”

Gaz cocked his head slightly, “And why is that?”

You swallowed thickly, “B-because I don’t think my husband would approve.”

It was a complete gamble, maybe these knights would leave you alone if they thought you had a man to protect you. Problem is, you were decidedly not married, and all you could do was hope they wouldn’t see through your bluff.

“Husband?” Soap made a show of looking around, “if ye’re married, then where is he?”

“A man shouldn’t leave his woman to fend for herself in such a dangerous place, especially not one as beautiful as you, someone might try to take advantage,” Gaz said in a worried tone, but it was ruined by the slight grin on his face.

“He.. he went home already, I told him I needed to get one last thing, and I would be right home,” your lie was falling apart as soon as it left your mouth.

“He should have waited, no sense in making your woman walk home alone,” Soap grumbled.

By now, they had almost backed you into a corner, both literally and figuratively, as they advanced forward, forcing you to inch back towards the fruit stand behind you.

“He-he knows the people in the community, they would never do anything to me,” you managed to stammer out.

“If this husband o’ yours is real, where’s your ring?” You were startled as Ghost finally spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling as he glared at you with accusing eyes.

You put your right hand up and looked at it, faking bewilderment, “Oh! I must have left it at home this morning.”

“Ah, right, sorry for pestering you, then,” Gaz said, bowing slightly for emphasis, the other two following suit.

You gave them a small, nervous curtsy in response and smiled awkwardly at the three of them, “It’s quite alright. If you’ll excuse me, I think I should head home now.”

You started to walk away when Soap put out an arm to stop you, “Aye, but it wouldnae be right of us to let a woman walk home by herself.”

Your heart plummeted to your feet and your eyes involuntarily widened with horror.

“I should be okay walking by myself, thank you for the offer, sirs,” you said as you attempted to shoulder past Soap.

He just moved closer to you, “It wouldnae be right,” he said in a darker tone, implying this wasn’t up for debate.

You looked between Gaz and Ghost, who had blocked your other exits, and it didn’t seem like they were willing to budge on this either. You swallowed nervously, “R-right, let’s go, then.”

When you made it to your house, you had half-hoped for them to bid you a good night and go on their way.

They, of course, insisted on meeting your so-called husband and giving him a good talk about respecting his wife. You were fairly certain that at this point it was like a game for them.

It was obvious from the start that they never believed you and they knew you knew that, but that didn’t stop them from continuing this ruse, they were having too much fun.

You opened the door to an empty and dark house, it being abundantly clear that no one had been in the place since you left that morning.

“O-oh, I don’t know where he went, he must have gone looking for me since I took so long,” you lied, but winced at your wavering tone.

“Lass, we would have run into him on the way,” Soap said, making you turn around to face the three of them.

“He knows some different paths, maybe he took one of those,” you continued lying, knowing that it was never going to convince them, but you needed to keep talking or you were going to cry.

Noticing the devastated look on your face, Gaz walked forward and took your face in his hands, “It’s alright, luv, we’re not going to hurt you.”

You were shaking so bad that your teeth were practically rattling out of your skull, “You’re not? You’re.. going to leave me alone?”

Soap just shook his head, tutting at you, “We didnae say that, just that we aren’t gonna hurt ye, in fact, you’ll probably like it.”

The grin on his face made your stomach churn, and you stepped back from Gaz’s hands, backing up until you hit your bed frame. It startled you as you stumbled back into the wood, and you looked back to see what you had run into before trying to steady yourself.

When you turned back around, Gaz and Soap were practically face-to-face with you, Ghost choosing to settle in a dark corner of the room, settling into a chair as it let out a big creak of stress under his weight.

You turned your gaze back to the two knights in front of you who both have matching looks in their eyes, a mix of lust and excitement, as they eye you up and down.

“P-please don’t” you managed to stutter out.

Soap just pressed a finger to your lips, “Shhh, you’re okay. We’re going to take good care of you.”

You tried to lean out of the way as Gaz’s lips came towards yours, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could pretend all of this wasn’t happening.

Rough hands gripped your head, pulling your face towards Gaz, who captured your lips in his. As your eyes flew open, you saw that it was both Gaz and Soap’s hands that were holding you steady. Gaz’s other hand settled on your waist, gripping at the soft flesh underneath the fabric of your dress.

He leaned into the kiss, being somewhat gentle, as if he didn’t want to scare you off just so soon. You gasped softly into his lips as you felt Soap’s tongue on your neck, licking a stripe from your neck up to your face, ending it with a wet kiss to the apple of your check.

Gaz pulled away, staring blatantly down at your body before he began to undo the strings at the back of your bodice.

You tried to pull away, muttering out a soft “no” in protest, but Gaz worked efficiently enough that he was able to pull the piece over your head before you could do much else. Soap grinned down at your body, the top half of your thin chemise having been revealed.

Your hardened nipples poked through the sheer clothing, your body having betrayed you in response to Gaz’s kiss. Soap seemed transfixed as he palmed at your breast through the material, cupping both hands underneath your nipples.

“So bonnie, and just for us to see, aye?” he asked.

You couldn’t even move your mouth to answer and you just remained rooted to the spot no matter how much you wished you could move, fight them off, anything.

Soap didn’t seem to mind your lack of response, carrying on fondling your tits. While Soap was transfixed, Gaz slipped off your skirts, leaving you now with one practically translucent layer, which he was now starting to pull off as well.

That was when you got the courage to move, attempting to cover your body while also trying to keep your chemise on. Instead of grabbing your arms like you thought they would, Soap simply pushed you backwards so you landed with an ‘oof’ on your bed.

You tried to scramble away, slipping over your sheets in your desperation but Soap yanked you back towards them, “Behave.”

You swallowed nervously and stopped trying to struggle away, actually finding yourself nodding to his command.

He grinned, “Good girl.”

His words sent shivers down your body, ending with a fluttering in your cunt.

“Told you we were gonna make you feel good, yeah?” Gaz said, positioning himself in the space between your legs, gripping your thighs open with an ease that betrayed just how strong he was compared to you.

“I don’t want this,” you surprised yourself when you said this, having been frozen in fear just moments before.

Soap, who was now positioned in the space above your head, smiled down at you, brushing your hair back against your scalp, “Dinnae say that just yet, think ye’ll like this next part.”

Knowing that your protests would fall on deaf, uncaring ears, you shut your mouth and looked back down at Gaz who had now pulled the bottom part of your chemise up to reveal your pussy to the night air. Once again, you tried desperately to have some remaining decency and pulled your dress back down, only for Soap to grab your hands and pull them back to your chest.

He held them in an X formation with one hand gripping around both of your wrists, “Och, dinnae be naughty, lass. Wouldnae want for Ghost to have to punish ye.”

Your eyes flicked over to the man who was sitting in the corner who was staring over at the three of you, and you noticed him lazily palming at a bulge in his pants. You swallowed nervously and shook your head, looking back at Soap, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He seemed satisfied and nodded to Gaz, who had flipped the bottom half of your chemise up once again. He pressed gentle kisses to your inner thighs, trailing up until he reached your entrance. It was horrible because even though you wanted them to stop, you needed for Gaz to hurry up and put his mouth on your aching bud.

As if sensing your thoughts, he put his lips to your clit and sucked. You couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped from your lips as he did this, your face flushing at the realization of the obscene noise that you had made.

It only egged Gaz on more as he began to practically make out with your pussy, wet smacking sounds echoing around the room.

Soap, meanwhile, had shifted your hands to pin them above your head, therefore giving him unobstructed access to your tits. He latched his mouth to your right nipple, sucking through the fabric.

He used his free hand to grope at your other breast, practically kneading it like a cat. All you could do was whimper softly, your arms and legs both being restrained. It wasn’t long before you could feel a pressure building between your legs, feeling the pleasure crescendo until it hit its peak and your body started shaking uncontrollably.

You could dimly hear Soap praising you with his mouth still on your nipple with your ears ringing slightly.

As the wave overtook you, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes back into your head. Gaz unsucked with a loud popping noise, and as your sight returned to normal, you saw him grinning triumphantly between your legs.

Soap had already unlatched from your tit, the sheer fabric that covered it being almost translucent from the saliva. Now that you had finally relaxed, or rather, was too tired to move or try to struggle, Soap let go of your arms. You left them where they were hanging above your head as you tried to catch your breath.

At that moment, Ghost stood up from the chair, startling you, as you had almost forgotten he was there.

“My turn,” he said gruffly, which made both Gaz and Soap complain loudly.

“Och, but I’m achin’ LT,” Soap complained, almost whining as he gestured to his dick which was straining against his pants.

“‘ave Kyle take care o’ you” he said matter-of-factly.

Although you weren’t sure of their ranks within the knight’s guard, it was clear that these two readily deferred to him as Soap reluctantly slipped off the bed.

Ghost walked towards you, looking you up and down with almost calculating eyes. All you could do was whimper softly as he approached you, half paralyzed from fear.

His eyes softened slightly as he looked down at you, and although you flinched as he outstretched a hand, he simply stroked your cheek with a softness you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Poor thing, probably scared out o’ your mind.”

You nodded meekly, hoping maybe he would take mercy on you and leave you alone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

He then undressed his lower half which was littered in scars and which also freed his erect cock, one that looked like it could split you in half, precum glistening at the tip.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, “I.. I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

He shook his head, “It’s gonna fit, don’t worry, ‘sides, my boys warmed you up for me, didn’t they?”

You looked over at Gaz and Soap, the former helping Soap out by stroking along his cock with spit-slicked hands, making Soap moan out words in a language you didn’t understand. You stopped looking when Ghost’s hands found your jaw and turned your face back to him.

“Asked you a question, love.”

You nodded, but your lower lip wobbled slightly.

That just seemed to egg him on more, and his eyes crinkled through the gap in his mask. He repositioned you so you were facedown on the bed, legs dangling off the side so your ass was level with his pelvis.

He pulled up your chemise, and once again, your pussy was exposed to the night air. He sucked in a breath at the sight of it, dragging one finger up through the folds and dipping it into your hole. You inhaled sharply at the intrusion, clenching slightly on his finger in shock.

He just laughed, “Careful you don’t squeeze like that while I’m inside, yeah? ‘fraid I’d never pull out.” You took the message and forced yourself to relax, knowing that it was happening either way and it was best just to make things easier on yourself.

You tried not to jump again when he dragged his tip down your pussy, gathering the come that had collected in between your folds. Then he pressed into your hole, it traitorously sucking him in with ease.

He was able to get it in a good amount of inches before your insides started to ache. Sure, maybe you’d had a couple of fingers in there before but nothing like this, certainly not this length or girth.

You whimpered softly as he pressed in further and he soothingly pet your hair as he paused for a moment.

“You’re okay, I know, I know” he said, soothingly, “Just a bit more, okay?” You nodded weakly, knowing that it wasn’t an option to back out now.

“Good girl” he murmured softly as he pressed inch by inch into you.

You whined pitifully as his pelvis pressed against your ass, his cock now fully inside you.

It hurt, but what was worse to you was that this hurt felt.. good. You hardly had a second to take all of him before he slowly pulled out again, and stupidly, you began to hope he was done.

Those dreams were dashed the second he slammed back into you, making you cry out in surprise. He continued this, rocking back and forth into you, his cock dragging in and out of your hole as you gripped the sheets beneath you for stability.

Then, he lowered himself on top of you, bending over at his hips to press himself against your back. All you could hear were his grunts and the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy as he pounded into you.

Even though tears were building up in your eyes, you could also feel pleasure building between your legs at the continuous thrusting. Your body tensed up as you felt another wave overtake you, the sensations making your legs shake uncontrollably underneath Ghost’s.

Your breathy moans earned an even faster pace, causing a slight staccato in your breathing.

Now that your orgasm had ended, the pleasure bordered on painful and with the increased thrusts, you whimpered softly, “It hurts.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your head and through his panting he said, “I know, I know, just a little longer. ‘m almost there.”

You felt another wave building, this time it felt too intense, too painful, but you couldn’t stop it from overtaking you just as Ghost slowed above you, grunting in your ear as he finished inside you. You couldn’t breathe for a terrifying moment, your lungs drawing in no air as your vision darkened. The ringing in your ears grew louder as you lost sensation, and eventually, lost consciousness.

When you woke up what you assumed to be a few seconds later, Ghost had pulled out of you and you were laying on your back on the bed. You could feel his and your come dripping out of your pussy which was still fluttering around nothing.

He had pulled his pants up and redone his belt, now fully dressed again.

He looked over at you, “Lost you there for a second, that good, am I?”

You didn’t really know what to say in response, sure, he was good, but he also forced his way into your home and your body. You weren’t about to praise the man that violated you. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your lack of response, looking over to Soap and Gaz who had both finished, seeming both literally and figuratively.

Soap gave you a lopsided grin, “Put on quite a show, lass. Told ye we’d take care of ye.”

“Will you leave me be, now?” you asked bluntly. Now that they had all had their fair share, all you wanted was for them to leave so you could tend to yourself and lick your wounds.

Gaz raised an eyebrow, “Rid of you? Who said anything about that?”

Your heart sank, “I.. I just assumed that once you got what you wanted, you’d leave.”

Ghost shook his head as if you had said something egregiously stupid, “Don’t you get it? You are what we wanted, and we’re not letting you go that easily. From the moment we laid eyes on you, we had to have you.”

You looked between the three of them, this hadn’t been a spur of the moment thing, they had planned this. You knew all along that they knew you weren’t married, but you didn’t think they had planned this, all for them to take you like some unruly spoil of war at the end.

“You can’t do this, someone will wonder where I am,” you mustered the energy to sit up in bed, glaring at the three of them.

“Really? From the looks of it, you live alone, no one knows who you are, and we’re knights. It’s our duty to take things like you home, protect you, take care of you” Gaz said, taking on a more serious tone.

“Y-you can’t do this” you helplessly repeated.

“Oh, lass, we can, and we will. Dinnae worry your pretty little head about it. King John already said he would be very interested in meeting you, doubt he would be too happy if you refused,” Soap’s grin seemed almost malicious now in this lighting.

“It’s time to go home,” Ghost said, scooping you up from the bed.

You were unable to do anything but cry weakly into his shoulder as they brought you to their horses, knowing this would be the rest of your life and there was nothing you could do about it.

a/n: ah ok! first fic on this acct and actually, my first fic writing smut 🫣 so lmk what you guys think, maybe i can write a part two if you’re interested??

sword divider by @/sister-lucifer

[blingblong55]

Need more- König NSFW

Art belongs to: @kinky-thirsty-reader

Based on a request:

reader sitting on desperate!konigs face please i feel like he would be so shy about it but he would eat pussy so good

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, mentions of face sitting, f!ngering

This man knows how to eat his meal and make a mess with it. He will have you on the couch, bed, side of the road, kitchen table or counter. Anywhere as long as his tongue is fucking into your cunt. His fingers are deep inside of you. Your moans and your juices that leak from you, making him cum in his trousers. Your clit is being abused by his tongue and fingers. Your hands pushing his face, and oh does he love when you do that. The way he looks at you as he eats you out, the hunger and desire for more of you, always makes him need that sweet taste of your cunt. Your slick coating his lips, the ones he licks after he had the privilege to eat you out.

Sometimes he has you before you drop him off at base before missions, other times he is at the side of the road when you pick him up from the base. He loves it when you wear your pink panties and how he slides them to the side or off your body when his needs get the best of him.

On days when he is actually shy about eating you out, that is when you know the orgasm will be better. He gets flustered, excited and nervous to even lift your skirt up. His face flushed, innocent look to him, a stuttering mess when you guide his fingers inside of you. "Meine Liebling, I-is this..this okay?" he says as he rubs your clit, one look from you or a moan and he is a mess. He licks and kisses your pussy, always whispering how much he loves you and the taste of it all. His eyes are closed when he is enjoying eating you out. The room dimmed making him more and more needy. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he keeps your legs open for him.

Once he has made you cum at least twice he smiles and opens his eyes, "I love it when you are like this, Meine Liebling." two more fingers inside of you. You squirm and moan, feeding his inner desires. He sometimes makes you ride his face, but that is only when he knows you deserve a reward after taking him all night. Your inner thighs are always covered with love bites or hickeys, only for him to see. At times, he gets on his knees and eats you out just like that, but it's always in front of a mirror because he loves it when you watch yourself cum and moan.

Days when he is overstimulated and when he is eating you out is when you see him cry. He loves how much you praise him, he adores how you stroke his hair away from his face or how you nod and smile as you watch him eat you out. His favourite view is watching you get drunk on orgasms. Your smooth skin, your thick thighs and your pussy, that is what motivates this man to always fight to come home.

Tags: @liyanahelena

[yourstrulyrani]

a/n: this song just screamed simon riley to me & i finished up my internship at a doctor's office so this is inspired by both..enjoy!

simon riley x doctor/wife!reader cw: suggestive right at the end // wc: 2300

Simon Riley would never even dare to think he was worthy of loving someone. He never deemed himself as someone worthy of being loved either because who would ever date an SAS lieutenant who was so cold and so broken, let alone marry one? You didn't think that though. Simon was the strongest man you knew. You didn't believe that just because he was your husband, but because of the man he is. He has been through hell and back and he still has the strength to live another day. Even with all the chaos in his life, this man loves you as if you're the only woman on earth. He plants kisses so delicate, touches so soft, and words so sweet.

So why isn't he like this anymore?

It has been weeks since Simon has been back from deployment. Weeks of Simon answering your questions and talking to you with mere grunts and murmurs. Weeks without his touch, every night is a bedroom filled without the mix of yours and his moans and grunts. You're driving back home from work, happy that you could get out at the decent time of seven in the evening for today. You love being a doctor and seeing your patients, but it was even more rewarding when you had a husband waiting at home for you to talk to, to kiss and to hold and to spend the rest of the day with. At the penultimate stoplight before home you decide you don't want to go home this time. You thought to yourself there is no point anyway, it'll be the same thing this time too: You will come back home, tired and dirty in your scrubs but still greet Simon with a kiss to his cheek in an attempt to get more out of him compared to yesterday. He'll grunt, acknowledging your presence but not you entirely. You'll shower. Head to bed and sleep without the warmth of his arms around you.

In a need for change, you take a right on traffic light instead of the usual left home and drive to the gym. You usually don't exercise after work, since you're already exhausted from your career as it is. But Simon always used exercise as a way to get his energy out, so why not try something he does? You think of doing something light today just for some quick cardio: the treadmill.

You change into your heavily wrinkled gym clothing in your bag, at the least thankful for the change of clothing. You check in, change in the locker room, and head over to the treadmill. It's now half-past-seven, so you reason with yourself and plan on doing thirty minutes and heading home.

After some time, you stop the treadmill and feel the sweat bead down your face and back. You can feel your heart rate gradually slow down, but you've never felt better. Your hair feels wet and your cheeks are hot with the heat from the exercise. You take a glance at the watch and check the time and in bright letters: 10:58 PM.

Well who knew some quick cardio planned for only half an hour could turn into three hours?

Your eyes widen in disbelief. In the same way you made a beeline for the gym over three hours ago, you now do the same to get back home. Since you lost track of time, you only had such little time to shower and wind down before you had to wake up for another early shift at the hospital again. Knowing you, you won't get enough sleep to last you your whole shift the next morning, but at the same time the time at the gym truly helped clear your mind. You park your car in the driveway right next to Simon's truck, barely driven lately due to his time on deployment and his idleness coming home from it.

Before you could put the keys into the door, it opened. Your husband is already at the door, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. You froze, your hand still holding the key positioned for the door.

"Inside." Is the first word you clearly hear from your husband in weeks and you followed the command, heading inside still hot from your exercise. He closes the door after you enter the house and you can feel his eyes on your body. "Where were you?"

Your eyes squint in confusion. Here you are in gym attire, and he doesn't get the hint? "Is it not obvious enough, Simon?" You wave a hand up and down your gym clothes, "The gym?" You bite back, offering him a sideways glance.

Your husband crosses his arms, widening his stance. "It is a quarter past 11, doll. Cut the crap. Where were you?"

You scoff at his dramatic change in behavior. Where is the Simon that has been distant? You almost miss it. You take a couple of more steps into the house, taking off your shoes and setting them off to the side. "Don't act like all of a sudden you care. I could have been on the side of the road and you wouldn't have given tw—"

"Don't. Don't finish that sentence because we both know it's not true. I care."

"You care? Really, Simon?" You cringe at the discomfort you feel at the whole situation. You're sweaty and your back is sticking to your clothing. Your hair is sticking to your forehead. You walked on a stupid treadmill for three stupid hours and you can feel your legs give out slowly and all you want is sleep. You're pissed off at everything, but mainly at your man who claims to care right now. Without a thought to spare, you head upstairs to your shared bedroom.

All you want is a shower and some sleep. Simon follows you, the both of you knowing full well this isn't the end of the night. Simon walks into the room and sees you standing by your vanity before you could change out of your workout clothes. "What did you even mean by what you just said? Are you questioning the care I have for you now? You’re my wife."

"Oh please, Simon. If anything I have felt more like a roommate than a wife lately."

Simon's eyes widen at your words as he walks closer to you. "A what?"

You roll your eyes and gaze daggers at him, "Did I stutter?" You're too mad to think straight at this point and walk over to him, enough to feel his deep breathing on your skin. "I." You poke his chest once with your pointer finger, your head propped upwards to look at him, "Feel." Poke. Like," Poke. "A roommate." Even after poking into his chest, Simon feels the remnants of your aggressive touch on his body and can't help but to realize how mad you are. He stares down at you, poking the insides of his cheek with his tongue and clenching his jaw after. "Well. Say something, Simon!"

You aim for one last poke but Simon grabs your hand before you could, gentle enough to not hurt but commanding enough so you couldn't move it. "Stop acting like a brat and talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong." You look up at him, your eyes threatening to let the tears flow out.

Simon sees the self-control you hold as you prevent the tears from slipping, and his heart breaks at the guilt he feels. He lets go of your hand, resting it at his sides. "So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell it to me straight then. Where were you?"

"The gym."

He nods, acknowledging your truth. "Okay. Now talk to me."

"I feel—” before you could speak, you tried gathering your thoughts. Your mind which was once cleared is now crowded in self doubt and pressure. You felt so much at once and you felt so close to breaking under the pressure. “I feel neglected, Simon. You came back from deployment and you've been shutting me out. You barely talk to me. You don't touch me. We haven't even had sex in so long. I need you." You let the tears fall, "I just miss you. I come back from work almost everyday and you barely even acknowledge me.”

Simon heard the break in your voice at the last word, and he couldn't help but to berate himself. In this moment, is where Simon thinks again exactly why he isn't worthy of love. He made you cry. His lack of love towards his sweetheart of a wife broke her into pieces so much she would rather spend her time after work at a gym rather than at home.

“Is that it?” He wants to hear more from you in order to fully understand how you’re feeling. Simon sits on the bed, taking your hands and having you stand in between his legs. He looks up at you, admiring the gorgeous features that make up you.

“Are you cheating on me?” You blurt out accidentally and see Simon’s mouth open slightly in shock. Simon couldn’t believe what came out of your mouth and neither could you. You know Simon would never but with the way he’s acting you let the doubt creep in.

“What? No, of course not. I love you. You’re the only one for me.” Simon takes his hands and rubs his hands along the side of your body in reassurance.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?” You sighed.

Simon stays silent, staring into your eyes as his eyebrows furrow slightly in frustration. “I'm not worthy.” He shakes his head and looks down in embarrassment. You can see Simon's lips pout slowly, something he usually does when he's overthinking.

“Worthy? Of what?" Your hands move to his shoulders, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. The feel of him grounded you, and the feel of you grounded Simon.

"Of you, sweetheart." His mouth is parted as he sighs and shakes his head in a physical attempt to let go of the tension. "I am not worthy of the honor it takes to love a woman like you." He sighs again and rubs a hand down his face, scratching the stubble of his beard. He despises bringing work home to you in a fear of giving you stress about what happened when he was away from you, but he has to speak up this time. "My job, sweetheart. It's the complete opposite of yours. You save lives and I take them away. It can't work like this," Simon's voice lowers in shame. "You're too sweet for this world, you care so much. And I care so little that I don't think twice about pulling the trigger. When I came home I drowned in guilt, so disgusted with myself." The more Simon talks, the more you can see his eyes gloss with tears. "I come home to a woman so warm and I am a man who gets more brutal as the time goes by."

You let Simon speak his truth before placing your hands to cup his cheeks, and you knew it was a good sign when you felt him melt into your touch by moving his head a little closer. His hands return to your sides, once again needing your body under his touch to ground him. "You are everything to me, Simon. I don't see you as a brutal man but a man who is worthy of my love." Your thumbs rub against his cheeks, feeling the mix of prickly stubble and skin as you do so.

"But I kill pe—"

You shush him gently before he could finish his sentence. "None of that. That's what you're supposed to do." A hand of yours moves to his hair, raking your fingers through it. In a way, Simon's hair represents how much of a mess he truly is. It has clearly grown out too much, which is unusual compared to the haircut he always has. He hasn't been caring for himself in the way needs or deserves, "You're a soldier, and an amazing one at that, Simon." Your fingers rake behind his ears, one of, if not his most favorite, spots.

"Feels good, lovie."

You giggle at the way he relaxes under your touch, "The touch or my words?"

He hums, "Both. And I didn't mean to shut you out. I love you. I'm sorry."

You frown at the sincerity of his apology and lean over to kiss his cheek. "I love you too, baby."

Simon passes you a cheeky grin, "You're calling your roommate 'baby' now? Weirdo." He chuckles, making a joke at what you said earlier. You smile fondly at your husband. Everything finally feels in tune with how it should be. You hear your husband chucking and see him smiling and being playful. You feel the strands of hair under your touch.

In the intimacy of the moment, you want Simon to know just how much you think he's worthy of you. Since you're already standing in between his legs, you lower yourself slowly. Your knees bend until they reach the hardwood floor and your forearms find their way to rest on your husband's thick thighs. Simon's head moved to keep his gaze on your body as it lowered. You could see your husband lick his lips and his chest rise quicker. "I promise I'm going to make you feel so worthy, Simon. Starting now."

He lets out a breathy 'yeah?' and you nod passionately. He adjusts his hips and spreads his legs further to accommodate for your body in between them. His hands find the ties of his sweatpants, already getting ready for what you're going to do next.

You for sure kept your promise and made him feel oh so worthy that night.

[tojisbunni]

saw this image & made this drabble .݁ ˖ mdni

simon likes to tie you up in bed. real, thick ropes. he doesn’t like the fancy shit with the pretty pink colors and comfortable silk fabric. he likes the look of a rope—one that’s he’s experienced in knotting nice and tight. a rope that he knows you can’t get out of.

simon likes to see you writhering. red, itchy marks rounding around each of your wrists from the friction. he wants to hear your pathetic mouth cry out to him to loosen the restrictions—to make the rope just the slightest bit looser.

simon doesn’t listen, he’s in charge and you know good and well not to question his ways. so you take it, take it like a weak little bird, aching for your muscles to allow you to fly again.

oh, and not just your wrists—but wrapping the rough material around your plush breasts, seeing the soft fat mush up, nipples perky and awaiting his pointer and thumb.

꒰ please don’t copy or translate any works ! likes and reblogs are always appreciated ᵎᵎ 🐰 ꒱

[saywren]

I can't stop thinking about free use medic!reader. Earnest girl who joined up to help people, keep them healthy. Who becomes part of the 141 and comes to realize that though they're a united force, they're each so different, with their own strengths and personalities and quirks that she quickly grows to appreciate not just professionally but personally too. She likes Price, and Gaz, and Soap, and Ghost, and so she tries hard to keep her boys healthy. Patches them up, keeps an eye on their injuries even once they're healed so they won't act up, cause them undue pain. Makes sure they're eating right and resting between missions, not pushing too hard in training or drinking and smoking too too much. Okay, they don't love that part, but she's good at her job, and they do secretly like the attention, how she fusses over them, even if some of them pretend they don't. It's a different sort of care than they show each other, and it's nice to have that extra support, know someone's looking out for them beyond just their usefulness.

And, well, if their physical health is important, so is their emotional health. Lots of cortisol and adrenaline involved in their line of work, and not a lot of ways to burn it off. It only makes sense really that if she's sewing them up and rubbing out the tension in their muscles, she may as well bend over and let them use her holes for stress relief. That's what she joined for, after all; they need her, she's there, ready to take care of it. Anything to make sure her team can function to the best of their ability, of course.

And it works real well, letting them fuck her whenever they want. Their moods have improved, along with their training stats, almost across the board. Teamwork, too, and their medic has certainly had a hand in that seeing as they work together to work her over fairly regularly. They can't even remember a time when Task Force 141 didn't have their little medic with them.

And then hmm idk, mayhaps reader's IUD fails idk idk

[hbma]

Some small dilf!Simon thots. F!reader.

You had to run some important errands so you’re arriving later and pushed Simon (who also gets dragged by his young daughters) to parents night/ some parent/child event.

Mans is definitely wearing either a hat or surgical mask with his jacket . Big scary looking man his 2 adorable daughters. all the single moms attempting to get close and flirt with him. Even if he’s trying to make a point of the wedding ring on his finger. But Simon is reserved, and quiet. he’ll only accept this flirty behavior from you, and so he tries to be as cordial as possible with them without coming off as rude.

And his little girls’ logic is “lady being close to dad should be mom”. but this lady = not mom. So they loudly proclaim “you’re not my mommy!” And simons looks down and tell them “you’re right” and gives the lady a pointed look. And so they’re his little bodyguards keeping other moms from approaching him until you arrive. Simon is probably like “thank god you’re here”.

Also: if there are any physical activity games involved, Simon and his girls would OWN everyone else.

I need to have his babies NEOW

[milkyblxxd]

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

slasher!TF141 cw: blood, death, chasing, unconsensual touching, big bad men being scary, f!reader, vague and incomplete, barely edited

wanted to post this as a tester to see if this is something people would be interested in

๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Every breath burns. Your legs are moving on their own, desperately fleeing as flight completely overrides your nervous system. Tree branches whip into your face, but your brain can hardly register the stinging pain they bring. The darkness of the forest swallows you whole and refuses to release you from its jaws. The full moon mocks you as it dangles in the sky, peeking between the gaps of the evergreens - free of earthly horrors. 

It’s impossible to tell if it's blood, sweat, or tears running down your face. You don’t even know if it’s your own blood. Nausea violently twists your stomach, images of your friends' mangled bodies flashing through your mind. 

What was supposed to be a summer getaway to celebrate the end of finals ended up to be a nightmare. 

The warning signs were there. Dark figures lurking at the edges of the lake waved off as shadows playing tricks on your mind. Items disappearing or moving around (but you swear you brought that brand new yellow bathing suit - did you take my hairbrush from the bathroom?). Skin erupting into goosebumps as you try to sunbathe because it just feels like someone is watching you - but your friends brushed off your concerns. 

You just need to relax - you’re too wound up!

 I don’t see anything…how much have you had to drink?

You’re gonna freak everyone out if you keep being all weird - 

What else were you supposed to do? Walk 10 miles to the nearest gas station, hitch a ride back home all because the woods are creeping a city girl like you out? 

A root catches your bare foot, sending you face first into the ground. In the attempt to brace yourself your body twists the opposite direction, a shooting pain that travels from your ankle to your spine makes you heave. You can’t help but lay there for a moment as the pain and exhaustion seep into your bones. A patch of moonlight catches your eye as you gasp, short breaths cutting through the hum of the forest. You don't stop your eyes from fluttering shut.

Hopefully your friends will forgive you for not getting away…

Thundering footsteps and muffled shouts snap you back to reality. Gritting your teeth, you claw your fingers into the earth. Like hell you’re gonna die tonight. Adrenaline forces you up onto your feet as you find the strength to move. Hiding is your best option, if you can just hide until daylight, find your way to the nearest road and limp until you can find anyone - you can survive, you can survive - 

The hope that sparked within you was snuffed out just as quickly as it was ignited - with what you could only describe as a brick wall bulldozing into you. You’re sent flying to the ground, wind completely knocked out of your lungs. Before you can even recover, a heavy weight is straddling over your waist and manhandling you onto your stomach. Coughing, you can only weakly struggle against the iron grip around both of your wrists, the feeling of a rope twisting and cutting into your skin as you’re restrained. 

A leather clad hand grips the hair at the base of your skull and tugs, a cry slipping from your lips as you’re forced to arch your spine to relieve the sting. The light from a phone screen being shoved into your face is blinding. You can only see the screen for a second - but the grotesque image makes you freeze. Blood and dirt covers your face, trails of clean skin left behind as your tears cut through the grime - but what was behind you was the real terror. The red of the skull mask your assailant wore almost perfectly matches the shade of the blood smeared on your body.

The sound of the camera shutter goes off.

Your head is suddenly being shoved back into the dirt, heavy hand pressing into your wet cheek as you sob. The leather is strangely cool against your hot skin as he strokes underneath your eye, cleaning up your tears in an act of…comfort? 

The man shushes you and mumbles incoherently in a thick accent, muffled through the mask he wears as he huffs.

“Couldnae let yah get away-”

“-sweet little bonnie, don’ cry-”

“-made me so hard chasing yah like that, fuck-”

You can feel something hard pressing into your ass when what sounds like a radio is being activated.

“Got our little lamb.”

[myhornysaga]

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, mdni, graves x reader

Part 1, series masterlist

You and Phil have been married for over a decade now. You watched him and helped alongside in creating his brainchild, The Shadow Company, a private military company.

Fate is such a peculiar thing that you also happen to be a criminal lawyer who has quite a good track record of fair share of wins and losses.

But you had quit your career as a lawyer for a while. Yet, you offered Phil to be the head of his company's legal team which he solidly refused.

Even though you are good, he doesn't wants you involved in his dirty mercenary business in any shape, way or form.

But you know how to make him do what you want, wrap him around your little finger like your puppet.

A good blow job and licking his balls and he's a mess. Even better if you swallow his cum and lick your finger tips.

And then all you have to say is, "fuck me like a whore", with wide doe eyes...

Your words wake his primal cave man instincts and goes into an absolute rampage with only one mission on his mind which is to make you see stars in broad daytime.

Letting him rut his cock in you like a hungry dog in heat with your head shoved into the pillow. He drags you and throws you onto the carpeted floor and then starts thrusting his dick like horny rabbit while you grab pull his gorgeous blonde hair. He hisses at the pain but then leans down to suck on your nipple, making you moan, giving you pleasure only to then bite and make you yelp. Oh the pain and the pleasure...

After a certain tragic incident, he has mostly avoided cumming inside you. But oh Lord he'll be damned if doesn't comes inside you now! God, does he wants to fill you up. And he just does that. Sensing he's closer, he bites on your shoulder while you dig your freshly manicured red nails on his freckled back. And with that, he came in you.

You expected him to pull out honestly, like he usually does but god oh god does it feels good as Phil's cock twitched in you, you could feel his warm seed inside you. Oh god, thank god he came inside. You had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Graves had his head in the crook of your neck sucking on your neck, making sure he leaves his mark on you. You caressed his golden hair and pulled him to cup his cheeks.

Good Lord he is so beautiful. The muted sunrays made him look so... beautiful, ethereal almost.

You scanned his features like its the first time. His eyes, tired and blue, oh so blue. His lips, pouty and adorable, his nose and his cheek. Ah that damned scar on the apple of his cheek that stretched till his ear. Your fingers ran through his scar subconsciously and kissed it, with love and affection.

Graves knows he loves you but damn its like the first time again. Falling in love with you all over again because you accept him as he is, flawed, scarred, broken, tired.

You were so lost in the moment that you forgot your mission for which you now laid on the floor, legs wapped, naked with your husband on top and his cock in you as the cum dripped...

And.... done! He's yours now!

You have noticed for over a decade of warming his bed that Phil gets very vulnerable after sex. Its like, he will do whatever you ask of him, however crazy or insane it might be, he would gladly agree!

And that is how, you secured your position in your husband's private military company as the Head of Legal Team and department, Marketing and Finance Advisor and the Public face or public front for Shadow Company.

Its a lot of important roles but its not like you are incompetent. Your degrees, years of experience and having a family generationally involved in Finance and Law has helped you, a lot.

♧◇♧

M.list

[ryuzakemo128]

MDNI 18+ | Adults Only

Pairing: GHOAP x Serial Killer! Italian! Housewife! Female Reader!

Content Warnings: Italian cursing| Swearing, Italian sarcasm, implications of smut. Polyamorous Relationship. Smut implications. BJ mentioned. Soap is real horny for both you and Simon. Female Reader is curvaceous, Junoesque, curvy, voluptuous. Italian Swearing & Sarcasm (Female Reader).

Note: Junoesque meaning: (of a woman) imposingly tall and shapely.

Word Count: 2922

Summary: Johnny meets you and then understands why Simon didn't want him to meet you.

Simon didn't want Soap to meet you at first, thinking the Scotsman wouldn't know how to handle an Italian woman like yourself. Better to keep you far away from him. Simon's British sarcastic nature was one thing. But yours?

Yours?

Your Italian Sarcastic nature compared to Simon’s British sarcasm. Your dry, “Hai fatto la scoperta dell’America.”

Simon Still thinks you would leave in a heartbeat if it meant he would be happy with Soap. But he didn’t want that. No. He wanted both of you. And you’re far too selfless for your own good. If a serial killer like yourself can ever be called or labelled as selfless in any kind of capacity.

Curvaceous, Junoesque, curvy, voluptuous. These words were always used to describe a woman like yourself. You always wore black, a neutral colour. A favourite of yours.

Soap met you when he saw you in your backyard shed tending to your mushrooms. Part of your large green house you get most of your food from. The large reason why you don’t need to spend nearly as much on food as someone else would have. The smell of various fungi filling the air as Simon warned him.

“Don’t touch the mushrooms.” Simon warned him with a slight smirk. “She won’t forgive you otherwise or at least she’ll lecture you on the complexity of cultivation of whatever mushroom your fingers touched.”

“Cazzo! I’m not that bad!” you protested from inside the mushroom shed.

Simon yelled back with a definite smirk this time, “That’s only because you’ve never seen him try to cook anything beyond toast and tea, love!”

“You mean burn toast and make tepid tea?” you retorted. “Almost like he loves the taste of charcoal. How truly and utterly devastating for his taste buds.”

The black gardening overalls, the 3/4 black shirt underneath and the wide brimmed black hat shielding your eyes from the sun, didn't hide your allure. The matching black gardening gloves that you have sewn yourself reaching your elbows.

The ducks, chickens, and geese wandering around the backyard only made the scene more whimsical than Soap was ever expecting Simon to be part of. The chickens were only ever allowed to wander in a small patch due to their tendency to tear up with moss lawn.

No wonder you were determined to smack on the hand when he suggested on eating chicken eggs scrambled. But when you gave him soft boiled salted duck eggs? Simon laughed when Soap’s eyes widened.

“You can tell she’s Italian right?” Simon remarked with the smugness of a man who knew the antics of an Italian’s temper all too well to ever be ‘bothered’ by it.

Soap is given a full Italian style breakfast, Soap didn’t know it was against your ‘rules’ to make himself breakfast. But Simon said he was the ‘guest’ and ‘guests’ don’t do such things. Unless the host said they could. And Soap wasn’t given that go ahead.

Simon snickered as Soap rubbed his knuckles. “I told you this could happen. Blatantly warned you too. ‘I don’t think you could handle her’ and you were all ‘I can handle her. A little tap on her lovely peach and she’ll be fine’ and yesterday is was more of ‘Oh shit!’ than ‘Oh darling, that was delightful’.”

Soap looked at the notes written by Simon, all of which were pertaining to what he liked about his lunches. Clearly you cared about knowing what he preferred to eat because there is no such thing as a picky eater in your mind. Just a preferred palette that hadn’t been fully explored yet. All of these were written on a coloured white lined rectangle cards.

Things Simon wrote for you in his notes were like ‘I liked the way you roasted the potatoes yesterday. But the steamed carrots were too plain for my liking. And don’t forget the rosemary on the chicken this time’ & ‘I don’t like oranges. But I like orange flavoured things like marmalade or chocolate’. You suggested him to write notes on what he liked more about certain meals so you could replicate it again if he wanted or wished for that same meal or a similar one.

You knew he didn’t like talking all that much and you were insistent on him at least writing notes down when he wanted to get a message across but didn’t feel comfortable voicing it aloud.

A happy middle ground.

Now that Soap had met you? He had to keep you and Ghost as soon as possible. A giant British man is one thing. But A giant British man with an Italian Housewife? It’s like a dessert on top of a hot meal. A two for one combo.

Two people just for him and him alone. Who cares what others thought? He’s the lucky one.  Luckier than most people possibly to think.

You were laying on the couch one afternoon, watching a shark documentary a few hours ago, and you had fallen asleep. Soap might have sucked off Simon a few hours ago. But he planned on getting his two warm hands on your body. On your curves.

As soon as you got in that velvet soft lace lingerie you bought last weekend in a pastel blue? The white lace edges and the tiny white silk bows. The tanga underwear in matching white lace. Your breasts looked like watermelons about to burst through the material. Your thighs? Like a pair of marble pillars. Strong enough to choke the life out of him.

You looked like a delicate dessert. A delicate painstakingly long made dessert. And Soap? He had a large insatiable sweet tooth.

The sight of you like this made his mouth water. Aroused. A delicate sleeping beauty. Or perhaps a sleeping Venus or… perhaps even Aphrodite herself. A living goddess in front of him. Using shark documentaries as a way to self soothe into a semi-decent sleeping pattern.

The whale shark body pillow clutched between your arms. The shark themed weighted blanket draped over you. The velvet shark shaped cushions all around you on the charcoal-coloured couch.

The other three had black dresses you liked the look of from certain model runways. Sometimes taking certain aspects and mushing them together to make something you personally thought would ‘look better’.

He assumed you bought it. Until he saw the sewing room or what Simon had lovingly called it your ‘Workshop of Horrors & Lustful Nature’. Where you had at least six mannequins displaying your most recent creations. Three displayed shark themed lingerie. Each one designed after a specific type of Shark species.

The whale shark body pillow was definitely yours. The shark themed weighted blanket and velvet cushions, all yours. The couch was definitely Simon's choice though, a stark contrast to the rest of the room.

Though, once Simon saw the soft shark shaped cushions decorating the couch? And the recent strawberry shaped mugs you made in your last weeks pottery lessons? The same ones you use for your morning cappuccino.

You certainly knew how to decorate. If you counted the eery paintings done by artists like Vincent van Gogh, Francisco Goya, Salvador Dalí, Edgar Degas, Otto Dix, Rembrandt, El Greco, Caspar David Friedrich, Diego Rivera, Théodore Géricault, Peter Paul Rubens, Zdzisław Beksiński, H.R. Giger, Enrico Pollastrini, John Everett Millais, Jacques-louis David, Gustav Klimt, Albert Edelfelt, Piotr Stachiewicz.

Soap looked at all the artwork your house had. He had to admit the collection is eclectic and extensive. Not too hard to imagine the ‘why’ Simon had married you to begin with. Now that he’s taking in all you particular tastes.

The black coffin shaped bookshelf either side of your television unit with fiction books by authors like Algernon Blackwood, Bram Stroker, Edgar Allen Poe, H.P Lovecraft, Marry Shelly, Oscar Wilde, Robert William Chambers, Stephen King, and many others. All of which are in their original bindings.

The living room alone felt like a museum of the macabre and the avant-garde, Simon saw soap taking it all in. The black woollen rocking chair you sit in whenever you read at night before bed. You say those books are comforting. If one could be comforted by fictional horrors. Then maybe you had found a rather peculiar yet ‘holy grail’ to ‘resting well’.

Perhaps the real horrors were the ones you were more scared of. If the ‘Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable’ Cesar a Cruz quote on the wall inside the entryway of the mansion| estate.  If that is anything to go by. Then perhaps he shouldn't be too surprised that you had a penchant for the macabre.

The flooring in the entire building is a deep ebony cherry wood, your choice and he still remembers Simon gushing over how his wife’s aesthetic choices were impeccable. Soap assumed he was only being polite to you, but now that he’s seen what Simon was talking about at the time? He couldn’t agree more. It appears the man had good taste after all.

Simon’s choices were obvious, the charcoal grey couch in the living room, the instant hot water dispenser, the stainless-steel dishwasher, the sleek black counter tops and stainless-steel cabinet handles. The glass containers with black & white shark shaped labels like, ‘Sugar’, ‘Tea’ ‘Coffee’, ‘Cookies’ and ‘Loose Leaf Tea’.

The loose-leaf tea being crafted with herbal blends of either calming chamomile or invigorating mint, picked fresh from your very own garden. It's a blend that suited Simon's moods perfectly.

You shared a Chocolate, pistachio & nougat semifreddo with Soap. Soap thought Simon was a daring romantic to sweep you off your feet. No. He just as a sweet tooth just like you and you suggested trying it on a first date.

“It had dark chocolate, so it has a little bitter tang to it, but for the most part it’s sweet, it’s rich. The pistachio & nougat adds a crunchy and chewy texture. On the first date I took him on, don’t get it twisted, I asked HIM out first, I took him out to dinner in a nice little restaurant, hole-in-the-wall, then to a nice dessert place where they had the best Semifreddo. My personal favourite place, ever, that man was on it like he was a starved beast in the middle desert. And that is when I knew. I knew ‘I’m keeping this one’.” You remarked.

“Though I did tap him on the arse, wink at him and say, ‘call me if you want a second date sweetheart’. After that first date.” You added painting an even clearer picture of Simon and your first date. “So, imagine that with the added finger guns as I walked away backwards for a few steps.”

Soap’s eyes grew wide at the image you painted for him. “And that was enough to win over Simon?”

Simon overheard the conversation, he spotted the dessert on the kitchen counter alongside the one you made with a cotton candy machine. A cotton candy cake, an experiment to see if you’d like it before sharing it with him.

Simon remembered the first date from a different perspective, he remembered how you approached him. How you looked him up & down. He thought you were looking at Soap or John Price or Kyle Garrick. No. No you weren’t look at either one of those three. When he heard the pick-up line ‘You come here often?’ used on him?

And the added, ‘Then what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this? You should be in my bed, your clothes on the floor and your lips on something far more delicious than that whiskey glass.” From you?

At the Simon was at the bar with the rest of the Task Force 141, Simon thought you were going to approach one of the other three. But no. No. It was like you didn’t see them at all. Like you honed on his large figure and his broad shoulders. Like you said ‘He’s mine’ without saying it aloud.

You had bought him a gin & tonic to see his reaction, the bartender handed to him and told him an anonymous patron bought it for him. Simon didn’t know you’d approach him soon after. The look on John’s face? Priceless when he heard the bartender’s words. Followed by your pickup lines he only heard a man use on a woman.

You didn’t ask for his number. That would have been far too easy. You gave him your number like you expected him to call you. The way you used your charm to win him over through dessert, and the fact you weren’t asking to marry him. You just outright hinted at the fact that you expected to be in your bed by the end of the week.

When you tapped him on the arse after the first date though? The ‘Call me if you want a second date sweetheart’. Simon didn’t expect you to be so bold, so forward. He assumed you were playing hard to get. But no. You were extremely blunt and knew what you wanted. No. No you were a shark rather than a lioness.

You wanted him. You clearly wanted Simon.

As soon as he also saw that you had a sweet tooth like him? Simon the man who hides his face with skull balaclava?

Though it was your Garfield pyjamas you bought him to match yours on your sixth date? Simon didn’t expect you to buy him such a gift. Your wrapped the pyjamas in a black wrapping paper and placed the black mug sized gift box. His name ‘Simon Riley’ with a metallic gold brush marker.

The feeling of being addressed by his actual name rather than his callsign?  He felt seen. Heard. Caressed without the act of physically touching him.

Your Alaskan Malamute, Cardigan Corgi and two black cats. The Alaskan Malamute is the stray you found in the woods as a two-month-old pup you had named Butterscotch. You adopted the Cardigan Corgi with Simon, he named her ‘Moss’ and you found it too cute to change. So, Moss it remained.

The cat were already your two babies before you met Simon. You named the long haired, chubbier one, Mayhem and the slimmer long haired one Bullet. Both are pitch black with sapphire-coloured eyes. Mayhem with a lavender collar and Bullet with a red collar.

The felines greeted him at the door when he first got there. The two following him around like he was the most fascinating ‘cat’ they’d ever seen. You found both cats abandoned inside of a box on the side of the road. Taking them in the same care and love you have for Butterscotch.

Butterscotch didn’t know what to think of him at first. You also warned them. That Butterscotch just needed to adjust to him first. She is a skittish pup, an anxious pup and easily frightened. Despite her larger size.

Moss on the other hand chased Soap, nipping his heels like he was an animal he needed to herd. The corgi’s excitement is infectious making Soap chuckle as he dodged the small corgi’s attempts to nip the back of his feet. His attempts to dodge only excited the little furball more.

Soap spotted Simon with Mayhem and Bullet. Speaking to them, reading to them despite them being unable to understand a thing he’s saying. It was a routine thing he did when strangers came around, a safety blanket of sorts, a way for them to get comfortable with the new person in their home. Though, it was information about the new person Simon read to them. He said it was to keep them safe.

“Watch out for how people treat cats and dogs, that will tell you everything you need to know about them.” You told the both of them.

Soap replied. “Yeah. I noticed some sour types get keen on getting their rocks off by harming defenceless animals until they snap at them. Taking pleasure in knowing in their torment, torture and whimpering sounds. It makes my blood boil.”

Simon gets really moody, talkative, and more ‘Ghost’ when someone threatens to shoot their animals. “Threaten me all you want. But you go near my animals, and I’ll show you what a real ghost looks like.” You remembered that one time too clearly.

You always had a thing for big guys who loved their pets. Simon fit that bill 11%. And you LOVED it.

The way he talked to them like they were his babies? You were putty in his hands.

The way he cuddled Butterscotch and took her out for runs in the woods with Moss? Oh baby, that was it for you.

The way he helped you take them to the vet during their trimonthly check-ups? You had never felt so cherished.

The gentle giant is the best thing that had ever happened for you. Despite your insidious nature. He loved you.

Soap on the other hand couldn’t wait for the moment he would be able to put his hands on your luscious deliciously tasty curves. Scrumptious. A delight from all angles.

Simon saw Soap gazing at your figure as you slept. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do that? Are you certain you want to even try it?” he asked in a teasing tone and a raised eyebrow.

“You know the rules. Ask before you take.” Simon chastised gently. “Wake her first. Consent is a big thing in this house. And don’t wake her without tea or coffee in your hands first.”

Divcider Credit: @cafekitsune

[quitefawnish]

just thinking about reader having an nsft tumblr acct and tf 141 being obsessed with it..

cw: sexual content, slight voyeurism?

soap is the first one to stumble on your tumblr account. he originally got tumblr because he wanted inspiration for meal planning and thought about making his own fitness blog.

of course, he eventually went down the rabbit hole of hornyposting and after a few weeks, he discovered you.

you had started this blog to feel better about yourself, or at least that’s what you told yourself, maybe you just liked the attention. either way, you started off slow, posting in a sheer shirt or just a bra but not wanting to show off too much.

it only took a bit of prodding and pleading from your followers to get you to post your whole body. that’s where johnny first saw you, in a post where you did a full body reveal (sans face for obvious reasons). it had a few thousand notes and was the top picture for some of the tags you used.

soap practically felt his eyes bulge out of his skull at the sight of you, this perfect lass posting pics like that for free??? he was quick to follow you and then look at the rest of your posts, spamming you with likes as he went through your entire blog.

he contemplated keeping you to himself but knew the others would appreciate you just as much as he did, so he saved the original post he saw of you and sent it in the group chat. their messages were immediate, something to the effect of “holy fuck.”

that’s where the obsession with you started, and soap acted as their drug dealer, sharing in the group chat when you posted a new photo. of course, the other three knew that they could coax your username from johnny and they could make their own tumblr account to follow you but they found it more exciting getting your pics this way. one thing he did share with them was your throne wishlist which was full of lingerie and cute clothes you might want.

you had posted in sets you had gotten from other followers and the guys were interested in how they could buy you things too. your eyebrows practically disappeared into your hairline as you checked your phone and saw that your entire wishlist had been bought out. even the stuff that you put on there as a faraway desire, like the pair of mary jane’s you had been eyeing or the marker set that was too expensive to justify buying with your own money.

you always tried to thank people who bought from your throne personally, dming them on tumblr and sending exclusive pics in the things they bought for you. problem was, it was all under anonymous accounts and you didn’t get any messages owning up to the shopping spree. you decided to make a post asking who just bought you all that stuff and that you’d like to thank them.

soap was quick to message you, claiming responsibility for the gifts bought. you both get to talking and he mentions how he shares your pics with his mates, and how they get so excited when he sends a new picture of you. you respond back how you’re honestly so flattered, and you’d like to talk to them as well and thank them for their contribution to your wishlist.

eventually, you find some app or website that you can use to chat with them while not giving out any personal information. of course, when the things they ordered come in the mail, you make sure to send them plenty of videos and pictures.

they are hooked.

now it’s almost like you have four sugar daddies, paying for your bikini waxes (if you want them, they don’t mind hair down there yk), sending you money for groceries, for getting your nails done, or just because. sometimes, they even compete between the four of them to see who can make you the happiest (determined by the amount of exclamation marks you use when thanking them).

a/n: this is so self indulgent and kind of based on some of my experiences when i had an nsft blog on tumblr lolll 🙈 anyway, this is kinda unedited and rambling but would any of you guys want me to write more w this concept?

[savagebite]

Toxic cod headcanons

Tw: everyone is an asshole in this. there’s honestly just overall all kinds of abuse. This is however, just fantasy. Ooc to, honestly they’d never act like this realistically this again is just fantasy/a kink. Dead dove do not eat

Price

-He’s an old fashion kind of guy, so he reinforces a lot of old fashion stereotypes. At first it’s simply making him meals when he comes home, to doing the dishes. But it slowly turns into you quitting your job and becoming his house wife/husband/partner and then beatings

-his hits aren’t to hard, but hard enough to bruise you. It’s mostly smacks, but if you fuck up really bad it’s punches.

-His rules are strict, to the point you almost don’t have much freedom. Again, it starts slowly to simplying knowing your password to you having limited access to your own phone at all.

-As you can tell, he’s controlling, your his wife/husband that is your responsibility, anything else is unnecessary. To him at least

Soap/johnny

A genuine asshole, straight up drugs you. He’s so bad at talking about his emotions that if your mad at him he’ll slip you something in your meal or drink and takes you to bed.

Doesn’t use his hands to hurt you, but instead uses his words.

He often manipulates you, rejecting any bad behavior he had done with a simple “that didn’t happen” since again, he hates any negative interaction.

Ghost/simon

Doesn’t mean to be abusive but when he gets drunk it’s all out of the window, after his best friend dies it gets worse

Beats you, takes any anger he feels out on you with his fists and it leaves you with bruises and marks. Surprisingly never broke any of your bones, has sprained your wrist however.

Apologies right after, he feels incredibly guilty. But you know he doesn’t mean it! He can’t help it! You forgive him? Aw, what would he do without you.

Threatens to do incredibly horrible things to himself if you leave so you’re kinda stuck with him.

Gaz

From what I’ve seen in the games he’s quick to anger, and I think that would show in your relationship

He’s quick to get on your case, jumping from one to another to throw you off. “How’s that guy you were with? Were you CHEATING? Bet you love taking his cock huh?”

Speaking of cheating, is incredibly jealous just in general. Don’t expect to have a lot of friends for long. He refuses to let you go to any parties unless he comes with you.

He’s smart tho, (have you seen him in the game?) so he’ll play on small insecurities just to keep you around. He’ll comment on how you look, how you do your hair, anything to get you to feel so self conscious you stay

A lot of verbal abuse and manipulation, I don’t see Gaz as a person to hit

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 5

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2k

cw: none

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

masterlist

the sound of the stairs creaking startles you from your sleep, and for a moment you forget where you were. it all comes rushing back to you when you open your eyes and realize that you’re in john’s guest room.

you groan softly and roll over, checking your phone to see what time it was. the clock read 6:08, and you were careful to not let your eyes drift downwards to your notifications. you weren’t sure if nathan would have even reached out, but you didn’t want to ruin yet another day with his antics and were loath to look at your texts to check.

in fact, you were fine with never speaking to him again, happy to let it all fade to an unpleasant distant memory. you were sure, however, that nathan would find some other way to fuck up your life, but for now you needed to get out of bed and find some coffee. you rolled out of bed, already missing the warmth of the blankets as you headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

after you had managed to make yourself look somewhat acceptable, you headed down the stairs. the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit you as you stepped into the kitchen, and you spotted the coffee machine with a full pot sitting on the counter, along with a bowl of sugar and a container of milk.

john was already sat at the table, coffee cup in front of him as he read the paper. his hair was still ruffled from sleep, some ends sticking out in small tufts. he was in a worn t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, eyeglasses once again perched on his nose.

the scene felt all too homey, like you were interrupting his morning routine somehow. shame crept over you, unwarranted as it was, and you turned to head back upstairs when john called out your name.

“you headin’ back upstairs already?”

you turned back around sheepishly, “i didn’t want to bother you.”

he gave you a look over his glasses like a stern professor admonishing you, “nonsense, you could never bother me. ‘sides, already heard you come down the stairs, no sense in sneaking off now.”

you smiled appreciatively at him, nodding at his words, “you’re right, i’m-“ you stopped yourself before apologizing, something you found you did all too much, “do you mind if i have some coffee, too?”

he gestured to the cabinet above the sink, “there’s some coffee cups up there, take what you like, sweetheart.”

you hated how quickly he could make your face flush with just a simple nickname, and you turned away from him as you grabbed a random cup from the cupboard, trying to hide the evidence of your flustering.

as you poured out your coffee, you noticed that the mug you had chosen was one of those “#1 dad” types but the dad part had been crossed out in sharpie with the word captain written in messy handwriting beside it.

once you put your preferred sugar and milk in your coffee, you turned around to sit at the table with john, who was now nose deep in the crossword puzzle.

he glanced up when you sat down, taking a note of the mug you chose he said, “good choice. the boys made me that one when i announced my retirement.”

you smiled softly as you took a sip of the coffee, but you did notice the faraway look in his eyes after he spoke, like he was remembering something. “you miss it, then?” you asked, and he blinked back to the present, looking over at you again.

“every day. it’s strange, practically my whole life was dedicated to it, and one day it just.. all went away. reckon that’s why i like to keep busy on the farm,” he admitted.

you nodded, “i understand, well.. i don’t exactly, but i do know what it’s like to dedicate yourself to something and even though you know it’s bad for you, you don’t remember life without it, so you stay..”

the room went silent, and you looked abashedly at your coffee, afraid you said too much.

“i promised you yesterday i’d take you to see the animals, right?”

you looked up at him with a puzzled expression, “yes, you did.”

he smiled, “well, i don’t intend on going back on my word, and if you’re up for it, maybe you could help around the farm today?” you gave him an appreciative expression, “that would be lovely.”

after you had finished your coffee and john had done around half of his crossword, you both headed upstairs to get ready. by then, the sun had settled on top of the horizon, lighting the sky with hues of pink, orange, and yellow.

you were able to find some clothes that you packed that might be suitable for farm work, or rather, clothes you were willing to get dirty. john thankfully had some boots from when one of his work friends, kate, came to visit, as she accidentally left them behind but couldn’t be bothered to go all the way to england from the states just for a pair of wellies.

john was definitely dressed more appropriately than you, wearing a flannel and a pair of overalls along with his own pair of boots.

“ready?” he asked and you shrugged, “as i’ll ever be.”

he chuckled, “i’m sure you’ll be a natural at it.”

then the two of you set off along a dirt path toward the animal pens. although you had seen cows from the roadside, you had never been close enough to one before to realize the sheer size of them.

while you were helping john refill their water, one ambled up to you, staring at you with its big brown eyes, tail swishing slightly behind them. you looked to john, to ask for help? you weren’t sure, to be honest but he was just smiling.

“she wants you to pet her,” he said, and you turned back to the cow who was patiently waiting. you slowly reached towards her and began scratching under her neck, she let out an appreciative grunt and moved her head back to expose more of her neck for you to pet.

“like this?” you asked back to john, eyes still trained on the cow.

“yep, just like that” he answered, and even though you were facing the other way, you could hear the smile in his voice as he talked.

he tried to teach you how to milk them but you could only coax a few drops out, much to your chagrin. he shrugged, “takes lots of practice, ‘sides, you didn’t get kicked, so there’s clearly some talent in there.”

your eyes widened, “they’d kick me?”

he laughed, “just messin’, i’d stop you well before they got around to kickin’.”

safe to say, that didn’t reassure you very much and you let him milk the rest by himself.

next were the chickens, he had you spread out the meal on the ground and they all came running from their roosts to peck the pieces from the dirt.

he gestured to the empty nests, “see? now it’s easier to get their eggs without them fighting back. protective things til it’s breakfast, then they’d abandon their eggs for a kernel of corn.”

you frowned, “that’s kind of sad.”

he waved you off, “you’ll feel bad til one of them comes flying at you to peck your eyeballs out, then you understand why humans started eatin’ eggs.”

you smelled the pigs before you saw them, your wrinkled nose making john have a good chuckle, “not the smell you expected?”

“i mean, i knew they smelled bad but, not that bad,” you said as you plugged your nose.

he shrugged, “after the first few years of living in the barracks, i think i went nose blind, or at least my smell tolerance was greatly improved.”

you shook your head, “don’t think i could ever get used to this.”

“fair enough,” he admitted, “why don’t you head on back to the house and get cleaned up, i can finish up here.”

you looked at him, “are you sure?”

he shook his head with a grin, “honey, i’ve done this everyday by myself, don’t think i’d be dead in the water if you left.”

you laughed, “you’re right, didn’t really think that one through, did i?”

“at least you’re pretty” he joked, heading down the path towards the pig pen, leaving you to bask in his words.

you thought about what he said all the way up to the house, in your head, you knew it was just a saying and he was just joking around. in your heart, well, your heart was still pounding something fierce as you walked in the house and took off your muddied boots.

your movements were so robotic that it wasn’t until he spoke that you noticed a man sitting in the living room.

“you’re not john” he said, which was rather obvious, you hoped.

you stopped in your tracks, looking him up and down. he was.. well to put it rather blunt, a beautiful man. he had a cap on with a worn insignia of the british flag on it that just shadowed the area above his dark, brown eyes. he was wearing a blue windbreaker, a pair of jeans, and a confused expression.

“i.. am not. who are you?” you asked, although you know you should be scared of a random man being in john’s house, you figured he had to know the captain. because why in the hell would he be waiting around in his house if he wasn’t supposed to be there, or at least, you hoped that was true.

“i’m gaz, who are you?” in that moment you remembered the conversation you had yesterday with soap and john where they had mentioned a fourth person in their task force, one that was still in the military and was now a lieutenant.

you sighed out a breath of relief, “oh, you’re gaz, the lieutenant, right?”

he nodded but was still cautious of you, “yes, uh, how do you know that?”

as you were about to explain what was probably a long winded and over-described story, you heard the door behind you open behind you as john walked in, one boot pulled off and the other in the process of being taken off.

once he freed his other foot and looked up his face split into a grin, “gaz! i didn’t know you were comin’!”

you looked back to where gaz was standing, his face now in a similar expression to john’s, “yeah, that’s the point of a surprise, cap’n.”

they both walked forward and settled into a heavy embrace, john clapping gaz on the back, “good to see you in one piece, kyle.”

then, his attention shifted back to you and he motioned you over to the two of them. he introduced you to kyle, the latter taking your hand in a firm grip, “sorry i was so rude earlier, didn’t know price got himself a bird. been too busy to tell me, i guess, or maybe he’s forgotten about me since starting this farm.”

you felt your face heat up, “oh, i’m not-“

“she’s not-“

you and john launched into similar protests, both stopping to allow the other to explain.

gaz broke the silence, “right, well, sorry for assuming then. christ, we got off to a good start didn’t we?”

gaz looked at you sheepishly but you waved him off, “i-it’s okay, i mean, it’s not like you knew.”

john nodded his head, “honest mistake, really. she’s just been staying here while her car gets fixed, and she just got out of a relationship, so nothing happened,” john rambled. you had never seen him so flustered, always seeming like he has a handle on the situation.

and you weren’t really sure why he was in such a hurry to dismiss the thought of being with you, were you that repulsive to him? maybe all those flirty remarks were just jokes, maybe he couldn’t stand you.

gaz broke the silence in the room, looking between the two of you stuck in your thoughts before clearing his throat, “so, you had breakfast yet?”

a/n: just wanna get it out there first and foremost, i am not a farmer, i have never done farm work a day in my life and so i just wanna say that this is all based on google searches and like.. little house on the prairie, so i apologize if its wholly inaccurate.. next, i am so sorry this took so long to get out, but with me accidentally deleting my og blog and school, i literally could not find any energy to do this lmao. but it’s here, yaaay!! also, i did take some liberties on reader, kind of projecting my lack of farming experience on her so i do apologize for her being kind of oc-y..

taglist:

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[7ulpix]

Simon Riley with AAF! Reader + Skincare 🫧

🫧 warning(s): girly/very feminine reader, very messy, not proofread!

paring - simon riley • reader

word count: 561

🫧 request - not one!

🫧 author's note - FIRST WRITING POST ON HERE?? HI HELLO just me rambling....british military man save me......reader is Simon's gf at the time!!!!! PLEASEPLEAS leave criticism, this is my first time writing for COD idk how to write for older guys 😞💔💔

- 🫧 -

After having a very busy day, Simon cannot wait to come home to his very bubbly girlfriend and adorable puppy, Riley. No matter how much of a bad mood he is in, the two always manage to soothe it instantly. As he opens the door he is welcomed by a very excited puppy and his girlfriend, both in the kitchen.

"What are yer' two up to?"

"Nothing much. Trying a new skincare remedy."

Simon had moved from his position by the door to leaning over your shoulder. He peeks down at the bowl you're currently stirring to see a brownish mixture of ingredients and the smell of.....coffee........

"Those my coffee beans yer' got in there, too?" (🤨)

"Needed them for the recipe to work."

"I need them in order for me to work."

You look up at him and stick your tongue out before continuing your stirring.

"It's supposed to help clear your skin and reduce redness and eyebags."

You finish stirring. Turning away to get two smaller bowls.

"Don't think Riley can eat this."

"The bowls are not for Riley silly, you're doing it too!"

"Me?"

"Yeah! We're both trying this out, pretty boy. Go get cleaned up."

Simon sighed very loudly in a sarcastic way as if he was so tired of being bossed around, walking to their shared room. After 20 minutes, Simon came out freshly clean after a shower, switched into black basketball shorts, and a black baggy shirt. His outfit was the complete opposite to his girlfriend: pink robe, pink bonnet, pink nails, black tanktop, pink minishorts, and bunny slippers. Even Riley, the scary German Shepard their neighbor downstairs hated, had a light pink collar. You had now moved into the bathroom with the two bowls, Riley sitting by the tub, most likely bored.

"Ready?"

"M' ready."

"Okay, just rub it all over your face. Avoid your mouth though, not very tasty."

"Tasted it, didn't ya?"

".......not the best, you can definitely taste the coffee beans."

You push one of the smaller bowls towards him. He grabs a bit of the mixture, slowly rubbing it on his face as much as he can. You do the same, rubbing it around your face.

"Okay, now we leave it on for about 15 minutes!!!"

"So what do we do in those 15 minutes?"

".......watch Teen Wolf?"

The next 15 minutes were spent on the couch, finishing season 1 of Teen Wolf with riley enjoying the headpats received. If Soap witnessed Ghost sitting and wztching a show like this, he would lose it. Simon never thought in his entire life, he would be sitting on his couch watching a young teens show about being turning into a hybird wolf. He also never thought he'd see Riley rolling around on the rug, while his girlfriend gives the most praise he's ever seen.

"Timers up! C'mon we gotta wash this off our face."

Simon's out of his daydreams and into the bathroom with you. You both wash your face, you even lean up to leave kisses on his chin and rubbing water onto Riley's face so he doesn't feel left out. You look back into the mirror, smiling noticing that small blemish from earlier, is gone. Simon doesn't see much change done to his face besides glowing a bit more. Kinda sad only you get to see that glowing face. <3

[codnasties]

fucking farah 🏴 (🌽 link) - female reader -

farah does not really mind someone who's a bit mean in bed. actually, she's quite into it. there is something about the contrast of being treated like a whore in bed and in such a loving way out of it. so when she has you fuck her and then give some of the best aftercare she may as well immediately propose.

and oh does farah like to be fucked. nothing better in her eyes than having you use your strap on her. standing over her body as she lays in bed, hands cuffed behind her back meanly, not letting her out of the handcuffs until she cums.

straps wrapped around your hips and an intimidating dildo now covered in lube hanging from them. tapping the tip of it against farah's wet cunt, teasing her, before you slowly start to push the silicone dick inside of her needy pussy, pulling a loud moan ot of her from being stretched out.

the time it takes for you to bottom out are the few 'peaceful' moments she gets before your pace starts picking up. the thick cock slightly bulging on he lower belly with each harsh fast thrust. the fact that she can't touch you maing it torturous, as she says so. but her body doesn't lie, with the way she's creaming around your strap like a good girl.

because she's one hell of a good girl