#female task force

[randomkposts]

How would an all-female take force be?

Umm wow! Either Death Note now takes place in Barbie- Land or L is getting a lot more shade for hiring only female officers for his task force. As regardless of how skilled they are, there's always going to be questions about the task force, and now there's going to be questions about if it really is the most skilled force for the job. 

Because unfortunately as a girl, people have this barrier of you first needing to prove you can do the job before they let you go do the job. Social progress has been made in the 20 years since Death Note was first written, but in Japan has different values then western, a big one being valuing the collective over the individual. 

For the collectivest to work, everyone has to value group cohesion and stick to the natural order of things over the individual needs the west favors. 

Anyone who is outside of that norm, is labeled troublesome, which leads to isolation and bullying, a problem which people of mixed heritage have enough of a problem with in Japan.  

So this many ladies becoming prominent figures in the police force and being born in the 1950'-70's is going to stand out. And they are probably a lot more cynical about their jobs, to say the least, and likely not as highly placed. 

If we are going for realism on this Soichiro is probably not Chief in this AU to say the least. And L is losing a lot of social credit for this decision, as this Kira case is not going anywhere fast to say the least. 

Here's a video from Lady Virgilla that talks (amongst other things) about Japanese culture and female leadership in the workforce (part 4 has statistics about females in the workforce)

At the same time, being on the task force is also a choice that all of them made in Canon, and I don't know if they would be willing to risk their jobs in the same way as females, given how much work it took them to get where they already are. The cost-sunk benefit would weigh a lot heavier here. 

I don't even know if all of them would want to stay on the task force if they were all female as I would imagine it would not do positive things to their jobs long term, particularly after the funding was discontinued, I imagine leaving would be a thing more of them took him up on. 

That said you guys are probably here for funner headcanons, and I plan to expand on this in the other Anon ask. May be yours, may not be, so stay tuned, and lets start.

So Mogi is kind of a Stoic, though he seems to get a kick out of messing with Yotsuba Kira.

E:-He probably regretting this after a week.

Mogi really is the best jk. 

K:-Hes also a good actor, and does a good job as Misas manager. 

E:-He needed a raise.

K:-What if we flip it for Female Mogi. 

Acts cheary and friendly around people she doesn't know, but get to know her and you find that she actually doesn't like talking all that much, preferring to spend her downtime quietly. 

Can fade in and out of a scene, stealing the spotlight and leaving like a ninja exiting stage right. 

Secretly likes quietly appearing behind people and startling them. 

I think Mrs. Ukita in this one is a little more cautious, which means Misa doesn't kill her as easily, having the investigation last longer.

E:-Not as hot headed. Still is reckless but instincts much higher.

Do Mello or Matt know how to cook?

I need to know how they even start off their business. Does Whammy prepare them for adult home ec life?

K:-I have no idea? I suppose that depends on what Whammies considers necessary orphan skills. Most in Japan don't, though that's more mostly there's more children than caretakers. 

I doubt L learned.

E:-"Cake is a nutrient. It has all the food groups necessary to function properly--"

"That's bullshit and you know it."

Lmao ok I have an idea. But also the idea of Matt and Mello having to do small gigs but influential enough to get their mafia gang appeals to me. 

K:-I don't know. I feel that Mello more got the job in part because A Kira had killed off the old boss and they needed someone less high profile. So they made a deal.

Honestly I don't even begin to pretend to have the background knowledge of crime to try to map out how Mello became a crime boss in 4-5 years, so I'm chalking it up to Kira, rule of cool, and Mello being good at psychology in spite of being impulsive as hell.

E:-Nah its fine. My brain wants to fill in the gaps. But also thinking about the fem versions of them. While I can see the same recklessness of a fem Mello, I can see some precautions she takes and more tough around the edges she has to be running a mafia group. 

Ohhh. MELLO AT HOT TOPIC!

K:- Eclipse, I think Mello would tell you true punks make it themselves not shop for it

E:-Very true. He has taste lets be real here

K:-I'm thinking about Honne and tatemae, and how the task force probably tried to take L out for work drinking so they could give honest opinions and show face with drinking as the reason for letting social barriers down to give him honest criticism, and L just said Nah, so they went and complained about L drunk. 

E:-Bwhwhahahha. Okay okay thats hilarious. Eyo flavor shots!!

I want them having fun for a bit since this is such a stressful case. 

K:-Maybe it would be fun, but actually it serves a social purpose l, such as maybe telling your boss that maybe his ideas are not working so well, or to tell people things you don't like about them, as expressing it publicly/at work would be a social faux pass, but expressing it "drunk" has an excuse, and as its a different setting you can all go back to work and put your "face" back on.

Well sort of. The article I read explains it better.

Emotional honesty. Terrible for the liver.

E:-True very true. Sometimes its an imbalance and most would rather have gone home than attend a mandatory drinking session. 

Hey new article popped up. Apparently Japanese citizens are having a lawsuit against Japanese police due to their racial profiling. 

So apparently due to the rise of foreign workers and those with obvious mixed race they do get stopped more and checked 'randomly'.

I still remember the podcast of Trash Tase about how when a officer came over checking their 'noise complaint' Conner and Joey didn't need to be checked too much when they answered the door.

But they mentioned Garnt as a Thai man and instantly the officer voice changed

Very little info but here is an article

Also I forgot until someone reminded me Light swallowed a piece of the death note paper he used. 

Or he played fucking mario kart with Ryuk.

K:- I forgot that too

E:-Light and video games give me a whiplash. Most time I feel like Light cane out of the womb with a sneer and a pocket protector. 

K:-He might have a god complex but he knows how to blend. Video games are blending. Besides, could you see Light having friends over and pulling out a deck of cards or something?

E:-I mean I can see him being decent at poker. Delinquents jk. 

K:-But gambling. From the top honors student *shocked gasp*

E:-Lmao top student my ass. He needs a bit of thrill once in a while. 

I mean surely making bombs doesn't come out of nowhere. 

K:- Who taught him that. I just want to talk. I need to ask. WHY! Why in the world would you teach Light Yagami how to make a bomb!

E:- Me thinking bruh he totally had some bad influence friends. I mean 'classmates"

I doubt his dad would let him see things. 

But Soichiro also seems to be the dad to go over safety things with his kids of what not to mix

You be surprised how many people die by mixing bleach and ammonia (spelled it wrong) together accidentally making homemade mustard gas. Or that tiktok trend of mixing cleaning supplies in a batch. 

And kids are curious. Light is smart enough on what chemicals can make a home made bomb. But I'm more concerned how he figured the trap. Or his lie about a diary.

That makes it even more suspicious Light. Makes me think u did illegal shit.

K:- Youtube wasn't exactly big those days. 

Seeing as how death note takes place in 2003. And youtube was 2005.

E:- Time travel jk. Then again chatrooms were a thing. 

K:- "hey all, how do I best trap my desk to keep people out of it. I need to know for reasons. Lol.

Aside from the Yagamis, Aizawa is probably the closest to Matsuda in the task force. 

Aizawa is kind of Sochiro's successor. In both Job and team dad energy, and I doubt that would change with gender.

In contrast to Sochiro whose family is used to her being away, Aizawa is in more conflict with her spouse then canon, and feels guilty about it. 

She's cooly polite to L, as L drives her absolutely nuts. And has a kind of tranquil furry building up towards her. An increasing air of "I'm done with your bullshit"

E:-Aizawa can be the voice of reason. And its amplified during times when the team needs to be grounded even if she doesn't like what L does. However Aizawa does show sympathy at times to L. 

Aizawa has that scary outburst when she has had enough and those types who are consistent about the details of why she's at this point. A strong duty of justice but also loyalty to Soichiro. 

K:-Do you think she should leave at the same point of when L pulls the money stunt. Or sooner, in part to be at least a better more present mother she feels her child needs her to be, while returning to a more scheduled time at the police force. 

Family means a lot to her, after all.

E:- really? Yes. Yes she would especially seeing she would still be the bread winner. 

Soichiro has just as much to stake one

K:-Yah, at one point Aizawa is having Martial troubles with his wife and comes in with a bruise. 

E:-However Light is with him. Sayu is almost an adult, and his household is a lot more solid as to Aizawa's newborn child and his wife. Where they have a less stable financial status in case he ever died. Or as L had said no longer funded.

Aizawa want to do good and to do justice. Regardless of their gender its something so Aizawa. But duty and family is what makes him head to the door but breakdown leaving his team behind. 

Oooh I forgot about that. Also Aizawa wanted to avenge his friends death too right.

K:- Yes. Though I think we averted or delayed that .

Wait doesn't he have a daughter too? Yumi?

E:-Wait what! Eyo i feel like we don't see much of their family. Did Matsuda have a dog or was I imagining that. I feel like fem Matsuda has a cat or some plants.

K:-I don't know if he would have time for a dog.But maybe he has an old dog he got from his friend. Can see a cat and some plants though. Does the cat get on with cat Misa?

E:-Matsuda does give rescue dog vibes. 

Ah yes the cat named Misa. Have made a cameo. I honestly thought of Matsuda genuinely contemplating getting a mask for her dog......in case Kira can kill dogs

"Why would Kira do that?"

"I dunno feels like they can."

K:- Bringing his cat to the office would mean he got to spend more time with said cat.And the plants would have a better watering schedule there too. 

In a nod to Australian Matsuda (KTPS4tv) i'm naming one of the pets Bikkie, (Biscuit)

E:-Hehehe. Matsuda moves her cat in and some plants in.

"Matsuda please remove your cat off of me."

"Awww thats sweet. She must really like you L."

"And I wanted to use the restroom for the past two hours."

Fem Matsuda gets a cat. She be lonely since she is single and has a very stressful job.

K:- name?

E:- Lets stay with Biscuit that sounds super cute.

K:-Does human Misa make an anti sugar comment?

E:-Lmao.  Probably hahaha

[thearoaceshark]

How would adding a female Light change things into the original ask?

Okay so, this question connects with this other one, and in summary in that post are some thoughts I have about what the Wammy Boys and the Task Force (from Death Note) would be like if they were women. But in that post I kept Light as a male (although I now realize that he is technically a member of the task force as well).

(I will use she/her to refer to fem! Light)

I was doubting whether Light being a woman would still be a misogynist, and the answer is yes, but not that much. Light, being a narcissist, would believe herself to be better than other women, that, added to the fact that she is a teenager at the beginning of the story, make me think that when she became Kira she felt like "I'm not like other women."

She is aware that women suffer many injustices, she has seen her mother fight hard against society to earn her position, but at the same time Light lives a quite privileged life compared to what her mother lived and that is why those are not problems that she worries about. Her intelligence was never denied, she is good and pretty in the beauty standards, she is a model student, she lives in a good neighborhood. She knows that people who don't know her will believe that even though she is very intelligent, she is going to limit herself to working as a nurse, housewife, or teacher when she grows up, but she doesn't care, her mother warned her about that and she is prepared to shut up their mouths and became a detective. Although it bothers her that people underestimate her, she doesn't see obstacles in her life. She thinks that both men and women are inferior to her, she believes that it is easier to take advantage of women by pretending to be their friend, but she is also capable of cajoling a man to use him. She is literally Regina George in this aspect.

So, I said that Light as a man would underestimate fem! L. But fem! Light I think wouldn't make that mistake, she sees others as inferior, yes, but she knows that L is a threat. So she wouldn't underestimate her and the story between them would go as in canon.

The ones she does underestimate are Near and Mello. Even though they both looked like L, she didn't think of them as threats. She didn't let her guard down, but the attitude she sometimes had towards Near made Aizawa suspicious. (Not much different from canon but I wanted to mention it).

And for Misa and Takada. I think that at first Misa was only looking for friendship with her, but when she met her (in person) she did start to have romantic (and dependent) feelings towards Light, and Light took advantage of that, they have a secret relationship but at a certain point (after the death of L, before Near and Mello) they confess it to Light's family, at first they were scandalized but they supported them. She didn't have a relationship like that with Takada, they were just "friends", they were both the queen bees of the school and at that time they pretended to get along well. When they grew up, matured, and met again, Takada no longer felt those childish feelings, and she feels puré admiration when she found out that she was Kira, but Light never felt sympathy or friendship towards her, she only sought to manipulate her.

I think it bothered her that people assumed Kira is a man, but she decides to use it to her advantage. They wouldn't suspect that an innocent girl with a great sense of justice is the biggest mass murderer in history. So she uses it for acting.

Also her relationship with Ryuk is exatly the same. Ryuk just wanted to watch the world burn, I don't think it would change if Light was a girl.

That's all I can think of right now, Anon. I hope you had fun reading my thoughts on fem! Light. Have a good day! 💕

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[rosiereveries]

You met John Price in some shity bar where your friends dragged you to celebrate someone's birthday. John immediately noticed you and he sent you a few drinks. The whole time you had no idea who your secret admirer was. When John notices that your friends start to leave, he finally approaches you. He asks you if he could buy you another drink not mentioning that he was your source of alcohol the whole night. After some talking you know that you don't want the night to end. That's how you end up in his apartment, with slow music playing in the background sitting on John's lap and making out. Both of you know that this will end in his bed. John is making mental notes that he must ask you for your number in the morning. He doesn't want this to r just one time thing, he wants to invite you out, properly date you. What John doesn't expect is waking up alone in the morning. You left pretty early and only left a note on his kitchen table saying : thanks for the night xoxo

Now almost a year later John can't stop thinking about you. He comes to the conclusion that you were not from the town and you were just visiting. His friends make fun of him, for falling in love with a random girl who he slept with only once. Imagine his surprise when he finally sees you in town, in some cute bakery waiting in line for you sweet treat. It is just like in his fantasies, when he sees you and asks you for a date and you agree and eventually you spend your life together. What he does not expect is a chubby baby boy that you hold. He quickly does the math. His is 100% sure that the baby is his. He waits for you outside preparing his speech. When you walk out of the cafe pushing the pram you finally see him. The man from the bar you met a year ago. You don't have any time to process what is happening. In one moment John is walking to you and the next moment his is kneeling in front of you holding your hand talking about doing the right thing. He tells you that he knows this is not how you imagined this, but he is here now and he will help you raise your baby. He asks you to marry him, tells you he will give you a good life. You don't have to work just focus on raising his child.

When he finally lets you explain the situation you just laugh at him. You tell him that it is not his baby. And it is not even yours. You're just babysitting for your friend who asked for your help. You also remind him that you used protection when you slept together and he finally starts to think again. John joins you on your walk and he spends the whole day with you and the baby. He finally asks you for your number. Just before he goes to bed that day, he texts you and asks you out. You agree, but he has to promise, that he will not propose to you for at least a year. And no unprotected sex for him too. That will break his heart but anything for his darling. He will make sure you will have a nice ring on your finger before he makes you a mom. Don't worry he will make it the right way.

Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[deunmiu-dessie]

!reader who decides that they want to try being on top for once and anchors their small hands on ghost's chest, bouncing sloppily on his cock and whimpering at his praise. “that’s it. good girl, just like that.” !reader who pants in small, short puffs, cheeks flushing red and legs cramping. !reader whose movements start to get slower just when they're on the brink of cumming. “ i c-can't, m’tired, si.” bf!simon who rumbles deep in his chest at your whiney complaint, "ah, fuckin' hell." bf!simon who grabs the fat of your hips and fucks up into you, hard and fast, gravelly voice mocking. "look at you, can't even fuckin' ride me properly." bf!simon who simpers at your scrunched up face and bleary eyes, mouth open to let out pitiful sobs. "m' sorry, d-daddy--mmn!" he chuckles softly, "'s alright, pet. " ˙ᵕ˙

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒! ⁽ nsfw ⁾

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that, when his kids are driving him up the fucking wall, pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks to himself “I should’ve pulled out.”

Gaz is the type of dad that, when his kids are giving him attitude, drops them off at Nana’s house because he knows she’ll teach them a thing or two about respect.

Soap is the type of dad that, when his kids are being ungrateful little shits, takes all of the batteries/cables/chargers out of their devices and buries them somewhere in the yard.

Price is the type of dad that, when his kids are getting on his very last nerve, threatens to drop them off outside the nearest animal shelter like a box of unwanted puppies.

[skyrigel]

Simon “Domesticated” Riley is my favourite.

Yes, he would kill for you and he would die for you but his affections and undying love isn't limited to oaths. It's boundless and endless.

He will cook for you, learn because he wasn't taught very good and he wants everything to be good for you.

He will sing for you, because you'd heard him in the shower and couldn't get past to fall asleep without his husky songs to make you fall asleep on his chest.

He will wash the dishes, side by side you. Laughing along as you dry the plates and using his hands at work to your own advantage to play mischief on him.

He will hear you, as you would continue to talk about everything because nothing was out of field, and despite you being a very seducing distraction, he's always trying his best.

He's a “my girlfriend, my wife” guy despite the other Task force guys teasing him about it, he doesn't mind holding your purse, instead he prods on it, he's always on his knees to tie your shoelaces, to help you out from those pointy heels. He doesn't mind being whipped, as Soap christened it, or smitten as Gaz chortled, because he is, as he should.

He's not patronising, despite being raised up to be one. He's gentle and kind and soft for you, and he's working on becoming a better man everyday for you.

He doesn't let his anger that's so unforgiving and terrible get the better of him, he's not a monster despite the blood on his hands as you've always told him so, he would pace around the lawn, sit in the grass, wash his face but he wouldn't let his anger be something you should be scared off, he wouldn't let it get between this holy thing called love.

He talks things out, understands your opinion, values them openly. 

He expresses everything even so it'd become difficult after being told to be stoic for so long, but he tries, always for you. 

He's always startled and flushed when you compliment him and he's trying to learn that you mean every word of it.

Masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

i saw a tiktok of a heavily pregnant woman saying “maybe i dont give him butterflies anymore but i do give him high blood pressure” then they walk by their S/O with a latter and power tools. and i have been thinking about how the guys would react ever since

Oh, anon. This is so cute! I love this. I know the trend you're talking about, but I feel like I haven't seen it with pregnant women specifically, but I find it even more hilarious if it is. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you for sending it in!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, dad!141, pregnancy, married life, parenthood, domestic fluff

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Get off the ladder, cabbage.” John exhales, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

You’re standing just high enough on the ladder to rest your pregnant belly on the top rung. John stands directly behind you, both hands firmly planted on either side of you against the rail. It’s not to support the ladder but to catch you if you fall. A potentially likely possibility since you’re carrying extra weight in front of you. You could easily tip back enough to lose your balance.

“I’m fine, John,” you reply, continuing on as if he’s not worrying.

It’s maddening how relaxed you are, like the potential factor of danger is a completely foreign concept.

“Please,” he emphasizes. “Get off the ladder.”

“Why?” you ask. “I’m more than capable.”

“You are,” he agrees. “But you’re also pregnant.”

“So?”

“Cabbage,” warns John.

“Fine,” you exhale.

John keeps his hands on your hips the entire time. When you’re back on solid ground, some of that tension melts away, but his heart still thumps quickly.

You lightly cup his cheek, batting your eyelashes at him. “Were you worried about me, John?”

John places his hand on your belly. “Worried about all three of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle sits at the kitchen table, sorting through the mail. With a heavy sigh, he opens the energy bill, removing the paperwork, reading over the breakdown of energy usage for the month.

From his peripheral, Kyle notices movement. Glancing away from the itemized bill, Kyle’s gaze softens when you walk into the kitchen. You’re pregnant, close to your due date. Even waddling around, Kyle can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

He leans back in his chair, appreciating you for a few languid seconds, then his heart drops into his stomach.

“Damn it all. Put that down, love.”

Kyle shoots out of his chair, trying to calmly but quickly make it over to you.

“I’m fine,” you insist, attempting to walk by. “I can assemble it.”

“No.” Kyle’s tone is firm but gentle. “Give it here.”

His heart is pounding, anxiety spiking from not just the power drill you carry, but the cardboard box full of wood you’re attempting to guide down the hall.

“You sit here.” He points to the chair. “Sort the mail. I’ve got this.”

You slowly ease down into the chair, and Kyle breathes deep, trying to calm his nerves. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters.

John "Soap" MacTavish

He hears your footsteps first, and then your voice as you curse under your breath.

Johnny lounges on the sofa, reclining against a fluffy pillow. At his feet are his two-year old twin daughters. On the television, a Bluey episode plays. The girls aren’t watching. They’re smashing their dolls together and running them over with the yellow toy excavator.

Sitting up, Johnny glances over the top of the couch

At first, he smiles. Then frowns. Then launches himself off the couch.

“Put it down,” commands Johnny. “Drop it.” He steps on a doll and winces, wobbling slightly.

You turn toward him, pregnant belly coming into view. You’re carrying a ladder, the large one, and you’re not supposed to be lifting anything over a certain weight.

“Down,” he repeats. “Put it down.”

You roll your eyes and turn away. Johnny makes it to you quickly, grabbing the ladder and placing it on the floor.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. “You’re bloody pregnant.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m—I’m not yelling,” soothes Johnny, cupping your face in his hands. “But you gave me a right scare, yeah?” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll take care of it. Go sit with the girls.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is curled up on the sofa, a precious bundle in his lap. His two-year old daughter rests her head against his chest, gaze focused on the colorful pages.

“He started to look for some food,” reads Simon from The Very Hungry Caterpillar. “On Monday he ate through one apple.” His daughter traces the outline of the apple, and then runs her finger over the caterpillar. “But he was still hungry.”

As Simon turns the page, he hears your soft but determined footsteps. He briefly looks away from the book, his gaze falling on your belly, round and full of his child. Inwardly, he smiles, knowing that the family you’ve created together is about to grow by one.

“On Tuesday he ate through two pears,” continues Simon. “But he was still—”

His voice disappears, and his stomach flips, blood pressure spiking as he watches you turn the corner. You have a step stool tucked under your arm and a drill in your hand.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters, lifting his daughter out of his lap and placing her on the sofa. “Daddy will be back shortly, doll.”

He kisses the top of her head, and then takes off after you. With the added weight, your steps are slow, and it only takes Simon a few strides to walk past you and cut you off before you make it to the nursery.

“What are you doing?” he asks, reaching for the drill.

“Hanging a painting,” you reply like it’s no big deal.

Simon sighs. “Give it here.”

“I can do it,” you insist, turning away from his reaching hands.

Simon plucks the drill out of your hand and holds it out of reach. “Give me the step stool.” With a pout, you surrender it. “Gonna give me a bloody heart attack.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

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@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

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@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @hisuccubus @all-by-myself98

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

something I do a lot without even meaning to is call people babe, honey, sweetheart, etc, but it's usually in a context that's a joke not like just in passing etc. it's the southern or the whore in me, idk. it's not even flirty, I just do it for the silliness. but when someone does something especially nice for me I occasionally go "you're the love of my life" or "we're getting married." no idea why I chose to express myself this way, but usually it gets a blush or a giggle (very rarely do I do this to a man).

however, I would do it to simon riley.

it's some small task that would only take ten minutes max. he brought you a sandwich from the mess or he finished up a bit of paperwork for you. so you forget yourself in glee and it slips out.

"Riley, we're getting married"

he freezes as you chirp out a "thanks babe!" as an afterthought and munch while filling out a health survey.

he just stares at you, nods, and heads off. you thought that'd be the end of it until he turns up an hour later with a bountonniere and a bouquet. he shoves the later at you.

"heard you say you liked these once" he mumbles as he sits down beside you. you look up confused at him.

"Riley, what are these for?" you say with a little grin. you've never got flowers from anyone before.

"my wife gets what she wants. always." he says, placing a hand on your thigh. "c'mon. not open much longer."

your eyes widen at his words. he tugs you up and out, asking if you have anything you want to wear or should you guys stop somewhere to pick up a dress. he swears he won't look beforehand, he'll just see you at the courthouse in it. he'll pay and he's got a dinner reservation afterward, sorry it's not before! do you want to take his last name?

please, doll, call him simon.

gaz is going to do pictures and price and soap will be witnesses. he's sorry it's rushed bird, but the quicker it's official the quicker he can start his husbandly duties.

[amaranthinespirit]

roommate!simon riley when your vibrator dies before you can finish, and he offers to relieve that tension

your feverish body splayed across the bed, covers thrown into a heaved pile surrounding you as a thin layer of sweat coats your skin and dampens the sheets under you. pathetic gasps of desperacy slip past your lips despite the thin walls as you pressed the vibrator against your sensitive clit.

you could feel the buildup in the bottom of your tummy, the heat of release that pooled slowly rising and threatening to spill over. your legs bucked, your whole body trembling in desperation as your other hand squeezed your breast. strings of muttered pleases escaping your pouty lips.

it was right there, you were about to wash over—to drown in the sweet snap of that taut knot in your body. you pressed the tiny, bullet vibrator harder against your abused clit, hoping it would give you the release you so desperately chased after.

until it died. it wasn't a gradual slow down to let you know it was on its last moments—it just stopped.

you whined in frustration, feeling the orgasm about to wash over you all too quickly drain—after it had taken you all this time to build it up.

you were panting, body still trembling as another groan escaped your throat. you tossed the vibrator carelessly across the room, hearing it thud against the wall as your hands came up to cover your flushed face.

in the next room over, simon had heard the little whines and gasps you had let slip by, smirking whenever his name would reach his ears. he had heard you for months—the walls were thin—but he had never decided to act on anything.

it wasn't like he wasn't into you—because he was and he was in his room, fucking his heavy cock in his right hand pretending it was yours. it never worked—his hands were far too roughed and calloused compared to your soft, delicate skin.

but he never had the opportunity to approach you about it—until now.

when he heard that noise of frustration fall from your lips, the light thud against the wall, a knowing smirk teased the corners of his lips.

he pushed himself from, adjusting his sweatpants as he did so before he landed in front of your door.

he knocked—he had some decency after all—but he didn't want long for an answer before pushing his way in. he didn't know what he was going to find—well, he had an idea—but boy, you surprised him.

a choked gasp flew from your lips at the knock, not even getting the chance to at least cover up by the time he was standing in your—now open—doorway.

you had sat up so fast, it was dizzying, but you brushed it off as you tried to tug the covers over your bare body, but it didn't help they were half falling off the bed and slightly heavy.

his gaze traveled appreciatively over you, shamelessly staring at your slick covered thighs and glistening pussy, a damp spot on the sheets below you.

you yelped as you noticed his staring, clamping your legs shut as you attempted again to cover yourself—each tug at the blanket was like a fight for an ounce of dignity. you weren't sure you had any now.

your chest still heaved, body flushed and slightly pink with reddened skin over your left breast. you swallowed thickly, stumbling over your words as you avoided his gaze, "what...do you...you need something?" you finally managed out.

his brow quirked up at your question, humming as he examined—analyzed—your movements. movement made of embarrassment and shame to be caught like this.

"dunno, luv," his voice was dangerously low, and gruff. he cleared his throat, slowly stepping towards the side of the bed, "looks like y'might need sumthin', hm?"

he stalked towards you like a predator, his eyes dark and half-lidded in a way that made shivers run down your spine and your pussy wetter.

he chuckled as you shook your head. he could feel the embarrassment radiating off of you as he stood right beside the bed, the side you didn't occupy.

the bed dipped with the weight of his knee, his body heavy against the springs as he bent over, a hand coming to your bare hip. he watched the goosebumps ripple from the touch of his calloused hand.

his other hand landed on your knee, slowly prying them apart as he hummed lowly in appreciation of the sight of your soaking cunt, glistening under the low light of your room.

his hand slid your knee, down your thighs until he rubbed two fingers down the center of your pussy. the slick collected on his fingers as they glided through the folds with ease because of your arousal.

"hm, you sure about that, luv?" he teased as he heard the pathetic moan that you tried to stifle slip past your chapped lips.

he brought his thumb down against your clit, swirling over the oversensitive bud before pinching it between his fingers. he huffed out a chuckle at the mewl you let out.

he teased your slit, barely dipping his fingers against your walls before pulling them away to slide through your folds while he continued to tease and bully your poor clit.

he watched the way you became a mess under his hand, no doubt getting wetter by his hand than with the vibrator he spotted thrown by the side of the wall. he nearly laughed at the sight of the small thing, his finger practically the size of it.

don't worry, you were better off being taken care of in his hands, by his fingers as he brings you to release by just toying with your clit.

and he'll give you more if you let him.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

What they do while you get ready (Scenario)

TF-141 as your boyfriends

Simon "Ghost" Riley who's the type of boyfriend to love watching you do your makeup, your hair rolled up in the curlers while you finish up putting on some lip gloss. You'd look back once in a while to see him staring intently. He definitely plans more date nights out where he knows you like the food. Adores it when you leave kiss marks but would grunt and try to hide it, you know he loves it, he can never hide the slight lifting of the corner of his eyes. He doesn't have the heart to wipe it off unless you tell him to. His heart warms up whenever he sees an elder couple, hoping that one day, that would be you two.

John Price who's the type of boyfriend to be absolutely clueless about makeup but is extremely competent when you ask him to get something. He's a little ashamed to be asking the salesladies for anything the first time but would grow accustomed and finds that it makes it much easier. Genuinely loves buying things he thinks would look good on you and see you try it on. Like Ghost, he likes it when you leave lipstick marks, specifically in darker colors that pop against the skin of his neck. Doesn't care if his knees would give out, he'd help you put on your heels, kissing your knee before he does.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who is the type of boyfriend to hype you up, he has a sassy mouth so expect him to give you the biggest hype anyone can ever do. He's also a go-with-the-flow kind of lover, he wasn't into skincare but was into a little haircare before you but now whenever you do your skincare, he joins in. The type of man to tease and laugh at you for wearing a clay mask then sulk if you put it on him too. He kisses you even if you whine and say you just put on lipgloss, promising to buy you more if you let him kiss off the rest. He helps you style your hair especially if you curly it.

John "Soap" MacTavish who is the type of boyfriend to be going in completely blind when it comes to anything that's on your vanity, but the thing is, he's willing to learn and hear you so passionately talk about what oxidizing is, cool and warm tone and other things you've said. He has this sketchbook dedicated only to sketches and art of you, his muse. He finds himself making them while you're doing your makeup, a peaceful pastime while his girl is dolling up. His favorite sketch of you was you with hair curlers messily clipped up in your hair while you put the last touch of lipgloss on your lips.

A/n: Hello my loves, guess who's back? 😉

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @aleixis @yveevie

[luvvictoria]

bro. Dad Bod!Price. Oh lawd I'm feral again.

Captain Price with a slight dad bod — It’s a little soft around the middle, but still enough muscle for when things get serious. His broad shoulders and arms still have that power, but the gut has a bit more... character, adding to that rugged, comfortable vibe. He’s definitely the type who loves a good steak and beer after a long mission.

Flirty, confident banter — Price isn't shy about showing affection, but it’s always got that playful edge. He's the kind to give his girl a smirk while wiping off his beard, letting her know he’s been thinking about her all day. When they’re in public, he pulls her in close, wraps an arm around her waist, and plants a kiss on her temple, always making sure everyone knows she’s his.

Teasing in private — He loves teasing her about her special appreciation for his dad bod, and he’ll make sure to flaunt it. Maybe after a shower, he’ll let the towel hang a little lower, letting her get a good look, and give her that ‘What do you think?’ look, before bursting into laughter when she blushes and tries to act cool about it.

Spicy moments — Late-night raids aren’t the only things that get him worked up. After a long, exhausting day, Price pulls his girl in by the waist, making sure she feels the heat of his body. He’s the type to take his time, slow and deliberate, but when he’s in the mood, there’s that raw, animalistic energy that matches his deep, throaty voice.

Post-battle intimacy — He likes to unwind in ways that aren’t always conventional. After a mission, when everyone else is passing out, Price pulls his girl to a quiet corner, flicking off the lights, and making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters. It’s about connection, but he’ll remind her who’s in charge when things heat up, and he’s definitely not shy about showing that alpha energy when it comes to the bedroom.

Sweetness underneath the spice — Despite the tough exterior, Price is a softie when it comes to his girl. After a particularly intense night, when the aftershocks of passion still linger in the air, he’ll wrap her in a blanket, brush a kiss against her forehead, and whisper sweet words of reassurance about how she’s the best part of his day. And maybe a bit of a proud smirk when she’s worn out from him. "Good girl."

His little guilty pleasure — Price likes to indulge in spoiling his girl a little, whether it’s bringing her a snack in bed or giving her a special gift that has nothing to do with the warzone. It’s the little touches that show he’s thinking about her when he's not the hardened soldier everyone else sees.

AND LIKE LET'S THINK ABOUT THE TWO OF YOU AFTER A MISSION , SITTING AT A FIRE CAMP AND HE JUST EATS YOU OUT LIKE WHOIUUGHH

"You know, after a mission like that, I've gotta admit, I've earned a little… relaxation," Price murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet of the night.

"And what kind of relaxation did you have in mind?" you replied, a smirk playing on your lips as you took a sip of the whiskey that burned its way down your throat. The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows across the rugged lines of Price's face. The tension in the air was palpable, like the moment before a storm breaks.

Price leaned closer, his gaze intense. "The kind that involves you, on your knees, and my cock in your mouth." His words were a command, but there was a hint of a question in his eyes. He knew what you liked, and he knew you'd give it to him, but he liked the chase, the power play of it all.

Without a moment's hesitation, you set your drink aside and knelt before him. The firelight danced across your skin as you unzipped his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing length. You looked up at him, a challenge in your eyes, and took him into your mouth. He groaned, a sound that was half pleasure, half relief. His hands found their way into your hair, guiding you, setting a rhythm that was both gentle and demanding.

The world around you faded into the background, the only sounds the crackle of the fire and the soft, wet noises of your lips sliding along his shaft. The scent of his desire filled the air, mixing with the smoky scent of the campfire. His breathing grew ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened. You felt the power shift, the dynamic between you clear as day: he was the captain, and you were his willing subordinate. But here, in the dark, with the fire's embers kissing your skin, you both knew it was more than just a game. It was a raw, primal need that had been building for hours, maybe even days.

And as you took him deeper, his eyes never leaving yours, you felt that need echo through your body. Your own desire grew, a warm, wet ache between your legs. But you knew better than to act on it just yet. This was his show, his moment of dominance, his way of unwinding the tight coil of stress that came with leading a squad of soldiers into battle. You'd get yours soon enough.

Price's eyes narrowed, and he pulled you away, his cock glistening with your saliva. He turned you around, pushing you down onto the makeshift bedroll, his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. "Now, it's my turn," he growled, and before you could even gasp, his mouth was on your pussy, devouring you like a man starved of the taste of a woman. His tongue slid against your clit, flicking and teasing, and you moaned, arching your back in response. The heat from the fire was nothing compared to the fire he was igniting within you. His hands were rough, but tender, as they parted your thighs, holding you open for his inspection.

You felt his breath hot against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His teeth grazed your inner thigh, making you jump before he plunged back into the task at hand. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you squirm and beg for more. His tongue danced around your clit before sliding down to delve into your wetness. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, your body trembling with every stroke.

As he ate you out, you couldn't help but think about the man behind the mission, the one who held your life in his hands. The man who was now worshiping your body like it was a sacred temple. His beard tickled your thighs, and you reached down to grip his hair, urging him closer, needing more of him. Your orgasm was building, a pressure cooker ready to blow at any moment.

Price sensed your urgency, his movements becoming more deliberate, more intense. His thumb circled your clit as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them just so. The sensation was exquisite, and you couldn't hold back anymore. You screamed his name as you came, the sound echoing through the night and mixing with the distant howl of a wolf. The tremors of your orgasm shook through your body, leaving you weak and panting.

He didn't stop, though, continuing to lick and suck until the last spasm of pleasure had rippled through you. Then, with a final, lingering kiss to your swollen flesh, he pulled back, a satisfied smile playing across his face. "Now, that's the taste of victory," he murmured.

[tobeholyistobeempty]

husband john price who goes to the end of the earth when his wife gets captured by an enemy group for leverage. husband john price who is still haunted by it, even when you’re back safe in his arms.

He doesn’t hear you come in.

Not over the silence. Not over the creak of leather beneath his elbows or the slow crackle of the fire in the hearth. The study is dim — warm, yes, but not alive. A space that once held meaning. Now it just holds him.

You don’t say a word. Just pad across the hardwood with gentle steps. His eyes are cast toward the fire — half-burnt logs, amber glow flickering across the hard line of his jaw and mingling with the smoke of his cigar. He hasn’t shaved in days. Not since long before he got you back. Hasn’t even thought about it. You know, because you counted each time he moved.

Three. Each to the kitchen, then back.

You pause for a moment, watching the grief calcify in his silence.

He looks like he’s been carved down to bone by fear and sharpened again by rage. The kind of rage only a man like him could carry. Cold. Surgical. The kind that doesn’t explode. It eats.

There’s a bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, half gone. You wonder how much of it he poured into the hollow that had your name carved into it. How many nights he drank your ghost down just to keep breathing.

You stop in front of him. No words yet.

Just you — bare legs, one of his dress shirts curtaining your frame, sleeves rolled up past the elbows. It smells like him. Cologne and smoke and something older. The scent of a man who nearly lost his world and hasn’t quite figured out how to let it back in without crucifying himself with the hurt.

“John,” you murmur softly.

He looks up.

And Christ — you weren’t ready for the way he looks at you. Not because he’s crying. He’s not. He’s past that. But because his expression is starved. Hollowed out. Like he spent every second of your absence chewing through every scenario that didn’t end with you in front of him, wearing his clothes and looking at him like you never left.

“I’m here,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”

He sets his cigar down, hand reaching out — rough palm sliding along your thigh like he’s checking for something, proof maybe, or pulse. You step between his knees without being asked, fingers finding the back of his neck, thumb brushing scruff made coarse by time.

His forehead presses to your stomach. Just rests there.

You can feel the breath he drags in — shaky, uneven, filled with everything he hasn’t said in the seven days he spent chasing hell to get you back.

“I should’ve gotten there sooner,” he says. His voice sounds like smoke and splinters. “I—”

“You got there.” You trace the age on his skin. He holds you tighter for it. “You found me.”

“Not a goddamn thing would’ve prevented that.”

You don’t answer that — just hold his head in your hands, willing your fingers to grow roots. Like the only thing you can offer now is proof of life.

He doesn’t ask you to forgive him for the days it took to reach you. Doesn’t apologize over and over for something he knows you'd never ever blame him for. It’s military. You know the job. The risks that often reap the rewards. And you — you know better than to tell him you’re fine. Because fine is the word people use when everything inside them is still bleeding. And besides, he isn’t really asking if you’re okay.

He’s asking if you’re still his.

So you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. Not to fuck — not to forget. But to exist. With him. Inside the silence. Inside the ache. Inside the echo of what might’ve been lost if he hadn’t fought like hell to get to you.

“I had plans,” he murmurs, curling his lips into your neck. “For after. For now. Thought about what I’d say when you walked through the door. About how I’d ask if you wanted to get out of this life. Find something quieter. Something that doesn’t strip the good from our skin.”

You shift, press your forehead to his. Let the smoke on his exhales stick to yours. Let the ache burn through your throat.

“And now?”

He kisses you. “Now I just want to feel you breathe.”

[diorchids]

BACKYARD BARBECUE, SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY.

— dadsbestfriend!simon, age gap (r is 19-20), size kink, fingering, p in v, praise kink, choking, bruising, nipple sucking, nipple play, outdoor sex, tummy bulges.

you knew he was coming. 

simon is your father's best friend, the two met while stationed. you’d met him enough times to call him an uncle, about a year ago, getting more and more comfortable with him as the months passed.

your skirt billowed in the slight wind, the sun shone as you spoke to family. 

you heard your father chuckle before seeing simon, a few words being exchanged before he made his way over to you. 

he’s taken a liking to you out of all your siblings, making this extremely obvious to you just by the way he treats you. he gets closer to you and immediately hugs you, taking in your smell and planting his large hand on your back.

“hey there, sweetheart. how’s my favorite girl doing?” his scruffy beard scratching your face as his hands moved further down, stopping before breaking the hug.

“hey, si,” you gave a smile, not breaking eye contact for even a second. to anyone, this would be flirting. but it’s not like that. you’re greeting a family friend, attending to your daughterly duties.

“look at you, kiddo, so grown up now.” he stood back and looked you up and down, eyeing your body perversely. 

you two talked, having to practically yell because of the number of people speaking. he knew he had your attention, and he liked it.

“but,” he grinned, taking another step closer. his hand slid down your hip, fingers grazing against the bare skin of your thigh. "why don't we find a nice quiet spot to talk?" he whispered in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck.

this wasn’t completely new for him. there was an incident before when you had to drive with him to the beach, your car was broken down, and your parents' car was full. you sat in the passenger seat in your bikini, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, a little desperate. his hand rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing the supple skin back and forth. you could’ve sworn he was inching closer to your inner thighs as he drove. 

you waited for a second before answering, your head tilted before speaking, “‘kay.” a brief answer, no teasing this time. 

simon leads you to a secluded corner of the backyard, away from the bustle of the barbecue. he sits on an old, wooden bench, patting his lap invitingly. "now then, love," he began, his voice low. 

you sat promptly. 

simon's large hands roamed your body, squeezing your thighs and tracing the curves of your waist. his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties.

he groaned grossly under his breath, not getting enough of your body. the way you’d melt under his touch, so disgustingly needy for contact, made him want to take you even more.

his fingers dipped beneath your skirt, brushing against the thin fabric of your panties. your clit was so puffy, you were just so ready for his cock. “i’ve been watchin’ you, you know,” his thick accent making your thighs burn.

simon's lips were inches from your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. he brought his other hand to your throat, squeezing before moving it toward your breasts. “i've always thought you were such a pretty little thing.” he whispered.

his hands pinched your nipples through your thin shirt, in turn making you grind down on his bulge. :(

“mmm, really?” your poor clit twitched under his finger. he pressed his lips against your neck, kissing and nipping gently, “so grown up now… hm?” he purred. his hands traveled lower, pushing your skirt up around your hips. you had nothing to say, words failing to escape your lips.

both of his hands were circling your pulsing cunt by now, a finger finding you already wet with excitement. you whimpered as he pressed his finger against your entrance, rubbing teasingly. “you want this, don’t you, doll?” you nodded, “i do.”

without hesitation, simon pushed his fingers inside you, feeling your tight cunt grip him perfectly. he began to move them in and out slowly, picking up speed as he felt your wetness coat his knuckles. “so fucking tight.” he moaned.

you writhed underneath him, tears already starting to roll as your legs trembled. you babbled and shook as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you. 

simon used another hand to pull your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts. your back rubbed up against his chest before he pulled his fingers from your cunt, lifting and turning you so you were facing him.

he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while pushing his fingers back into your starving little cunt. your mascara ran down your face as you pouted and cried, senses becoming overwhelmed.

he sucked hard while continuing to finger you. “you’re gonna make such a pretty little slut.” he groaned against your skin. “mhm! f-feels so fuckin’ good, si. m’gonna cum.” stupidly nodding and biting your plump lip.

he chuckled darkly, his fingers pumping faster and harder inside your velvety walls. your cunt constricted around his knuckles as you cried out, legs quivering as the knot in your tummy threatened release.

salty tears rolled down your face before he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving a trail of your juices on his hand. his fat cock pushed up against his slacks, straining against it, emphasizing every curve in his bulge. you cried loudly, lips puffy and slick, clit twitching pathetically.

your fingers curved around his clothed cock, being pushed away before he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants down, pre-cum leaking through the fabric of his boxers. he pulls his waistband away from his hips, freeing his cock pressed up against his stomach. 

he pulled his pants off as you stood and watched, salivating at the sight of his cock. you’d do anything for him, getting more and more greedy at the thought of him finally pushing his cock into you. 

finally, he had you on your knees on the bench, facing away from him, cunt burning, waiting for his thick length. you waited, breaking the silence with a question, “you usually like college girls?” 

it was an honest question, you were serious. 

he rubbed the tip of his cock against your slick hole, teasing. “i like what i like,” he grinned. “and right now, i like you.” he pushed his cock into your tense cunt, causing you to dig your nails into his thigh.

simon thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside you up to the hilt. you felt his chest rising and falling against you as he groaned against your neck. how badly he wanted to bruise it up.

“take it,” he grunted, “take all of it.” his cock stretched your cunts walls, filling you up with his thickness. you felt a hand trail up to your throat, another gripping your hips tightly, guiding him in and out of your soaking hole.

he was rough with you, increasing the force with which he pounded into you. his hips snapped forward which each thrust, making your ass ripple. “s-si, can’t take it n’more! agh–cock s’fat, go slow, si, please, hurt s’bad!” he laughed at your attempts to stop him.

his grip on your neck tightened with each thrust, surely creating small bruises to deal with later. “fuckin’ delicious. takin’ me so well.” he said breathlessly, continuing to pound into you without mercy. 

“s’too much… si, fuck!” he was hunched over, both of you a mess, hair stuck to his forehead, you, crying ‘cause of his fat dick! 

“g-go deeper, deep–mmf!” you begged.

simon hissed, pulling out almost completely before slamming his huge cock back in with a force that made your poor tummy flip. he continued this pattern of deep thrusts, grunting loudly with each one as he dove his cock deeper into your wet hole.

he brought a hand to your clit, thick finger lousily rubbing and rolling it roughly between his thumb and forefinger. “m’gonna cum!” you pushed yourself onto his cock more, greedy for his length.

“cum–cum for me, love.” he urged, thrusting into you even harder. you gushed around his cock, thrashing while your cunt showed its appreciation, orgasm crashing over you, causing you to clench tightly around his cock. you moaned like an animal as he continued his abuse on your walls.

“fuck–like that,” simon grunted, groaning loudly as he felt his cock shudder violently inside of you. with one last thrust, he let go and came inside of you, filling you with his hot seed. it spilled out of you before simon sloppily thrust a few more times, making sure to fuck his cum deep into you, like there were no consequences.��

he didn’t let go of you, still hunched over your body, small in comparison to him, tummy slightly bulged by his oversized cock. panting heavily, he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. his cock twitched inside of you, releasing a few more spurts of cum. 

he helped you to your feet, smoothing your hair, drying your tears after wiping the cum from your inner thigh with his thumb, and sticking it in your mouth. you sucked his thumb hungrily, warm tongue making him softly groan. 

he’d heard your father call for him from the grill while he buckled his pants, kissing you before walking back into the yard. 

“good talk, sweetheart.”

[deunmiu-dessie]

older boyfriend!simon who's been pulling out to finish on your thighs since you've started dating. older boyfriend!simon who can't help but want to cum inside of you, especially when your cute little pussy clenches around his cock so greedily. older boyfriend!simon who moans when you cream around the base of him, whining and shaking. older boyfriend!simon who presses a sloppy kiss to your puffy lips when you beg for him to fill you up dazedly, with tear-stained cheeks. older boyfriend!simon who finally gives in. "wan' me t'a stuff y'r pretty pussy with my cum, hm?" ˙ᵕ˙

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒! ⁽ nsfw ⁾

[whateveriwant]

Ghost is the type of dad that would always be super blunt with his kids. So when his toddler asks him how her little sister came to be in mummy’s belly, instead of weaving a tale of magic wishes and baby-delivering storks, he says simply “We had sex”.

Gaz is the type of dad that would have his kid’s birthday entertainer cancel on him last minute. Good news is that the party store down the road is still open. Bad news is that the Spiderman costume he buys himself is two sizes too small.

Soap is the type of dad that would get kicked out of his kid’s football game because of his unruly behavior in the stands. Apparently, encouraging a group of six year olds to “Bloody kill!” the other team is frowned upon by most parents.

Price is the type of dad that would shave off his facial hair because he wanted to change up his look a little, only to end up scaring his kids (even making his ten month old cry) because they thought a stranger had broken into the house.