#gaz Garrick x f!reader

[celestialprincesse]

That Bodyguard Gaz thought is delicious! Would you eleborate?? The brain worms immediately went to the agent being this cute, cubby, little thing and is very unsuspecting but turns out to be actually very deadly when needed!

Hope you feel better!

Oh she is so cute and clever and fucking insane I love her In my mind I sort of imagined him with my oc Kitty/Houdini, but this could also be read as X reader🎀 Reader goes by codename Hecate and She/Her pronouns💕

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

At exactly 6:14AM, on Tuesday the 17th of October, Kyle Garrick is woken by his phone ringing. Incessantly. Again and again and again. "It's shit O'clock. What do you want?" He grumbles into his phone, sitting up on the edge of his bed with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Captain John Price's equally tired vice crackles down the line. "Laswell needs you. Says she's got someone that needs protection services. That's all she gave." "And she gave you this at 6AM? "It's 01:00 there. She's been busy. Meetup location with the charge is in your inbox."

With that, John hangs up, leaving Kyle to gather his bearings as he opens his eMail app, scrolling to the top of his newly reicived messages to find one with no subject, and no content aside from a street name and address, as well as a time that he assumes he should be there by. If it's from Laswell, and passed down through Price, he knows it's legit. Kate only ever gives him the important ones, either expensive or irreplacable. It doesn't take long for him to be ready, Union Jack cap pulled down over his brow, and a pistol in the inside pocket of his coat, just for good measure.

London is, as always, miserable. The pavements are slicked with rain and the sky is concrete grey, reflected in the cold glass of skyscrapers, towering into the sky like the scales of some rippling serpent. It's hard to spot someone when he's got no clue of their appearance or career. Why they need his protection. All he has is a name, a callsign too, for good measure. Hecate is what they call you. Goddess of witchcraft and magic. That, unfortunately, doesn't particularly narrow his search, not in a city with a whopping eight million people crowding it's pavements and flooding it's tube stations, sitting outside of cafe's or sheltering from the rain in the overhangs of shops.

Kyle, strangely enough, feels nervous. All of the guys have their things - their specialties - and VIP Protection is his. But it's been a long time since he was in charge of someone's life, trying to protect it, instead of taking it, and he suddenly feels incredibly unequipped. He'll be staying with the charge. John told him in a seperate message to bring a bag. At least enough for a few weeks as they settle in to their safehouse kindly provided by the CIA. They've splashed a fair amount of cash to get a place on this side of town, where the streets are clean and the crime rates are lower. His person must be important. He assumes, seeing as he wasn't on the receiving end of a photo or description, that they'll be seeking him out, so he dutifully takes his place outside the quiet café, paying for his coffee with cash. In the fifteen minutes he waits, (having arrived early) Kyle never once lets himself zone out or get lost in his thoughts.

What he doesn't expect to see is you. About as scary as a butterfly and quietly unassuming in jeans and an oversized hoodie, Kyle's curiosity is piqued. "You're Hecate?" He probes carefully, removing his hat to allow you a view of his face, as he does with many of his clients. He finds it stops them from being skittish with him. It's always easier to protect someone who trusts you. That's his philosophy, anyways. "Gaz Garrick?" You inquire back, wary until he slides his driver's license and tags across the table. "File's in my bag if you'd like to see that too." "This is enough. Thank you." He likes you immediately. He likes that you're careful without being outright flippant, guarded but not dismissive.

The waitress gives you an unpleasantly disdainful look, flashing you a tight lipped smile, unlike the flirty one she gave to your companion upon taking his order. "Just a regular builders for me please." Her tense smile is reciprocated as you order your tea, trying to keep the caffeine to a minimum today. You're already jittery.

Kyle opens the door of the black bulletproof SUV for you, watches the way you blink up at him with gooey soft doe eyes, and he struggles to push down the highly unprofessional thoughts that invade his head as he watches you hop up into the car before him, adjusting his cap to stop himself from openly ogling your ass. "You fancy putting the address in the SatNav?" Kyle coos at you, trying not to smother you. He can tell you're skittish. Probably not used to the idea of having someone with you, day in day out watching your every move.

Of course, Laswell would set you up somewhere like Richmond, somewhere quiet and safe. You're clearly someone important if Kate is handling your affairs personally - and his day rate has gone up substantially since joining the 141. The apartment is pleasant, soulless, but nice all things considered. Immediately upon entry, he takes notice of the added locks on the door - three of them, and the dead bolted fire escape. It's good, gives two exits incase one fails, but not so many that you could easily forget to lock the door on one of them and risk compromising your safety. There's a cluster of all sorts of technology strewn on the counter, like you'd set yourself up in a rush and not had time to get fully organised, he assumes you've not been here long.

The next morning you shuffle downstairs to find Kyle looking confused as he stares at the contents of your refrigerator, "You need something? I can swing by the shops if need be." "You have a safe in your fridge." He deadpans, looking down to you, still sporting some thin pyjama shorts and an old Marlboro tee. he can't help but wonder how you look so pretty without even trying. "Oh! Yeah ... that." You mumble, flushing profusely as you stare up at the soldier. "Funnily enough, people don't think to check the fridge. Burglars and whatnot." Kyle startles at your easy mention of being robbed, and the inference that you've potentially dealt with burglary enough to be familiar with the mindset of a potential home invader. "You get burgled a lot?" "Mm. Used to." You mumble as you root through the safe-fridge for a bottle of orange juice, pouring two glasses. Apple juice is Kyle's personal preference, or some sort of smoothie, but he takes the glass from you with a grateful smile. Best to just go along with you, keep you comfortable. Not to mention the warm smile you give him when your fingers brush around the glass has his insides growing warm.

After having met you, a woman so clearly formidable to be protected by Kate Laswell herself, to have earned the nickname of a goddess, Kyle not only finds himself far less nervous - he feels warmly optimistic. He feels, for the first time in far too long, genuine hope for connection.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Might or might not add to this at some point idk n e ways!!!💕

Badly written and not edited so sorray!!

[luvbabydoll]

— under their noses — chapter one

a series by © luvbabydoll — inspired by @goatgoesmbe

you never intended to start an only fans.

but between nursing school, grueling shifts, and bills that refused to pay themselves, you had to get creative. and what started as a desperate attempt to make ends meet quickly turned into a steady income.

the men on their seemed to like you. they liked your voice, the softness in your tone, the way you spoke like you meant it. you never showed your full face, but that only added to the mystery. you played into it—the sweet, teasing persona, the gentle praise, the intimacy that kept men coming back for more.

and, completely unknowingly, the entirety of Task Force 141 had fallen for you.

—

it had all started months ago.

one of their missions had gone sideways—bad intel, long hours, more bodies than they were expecting. and by the time they got back to base, exhausted and strung out, all they wanted was food, alcohol, and sleep.

but mostly alcohol.

soap was the first to bring it up.

slumped against a crate, half a bottle of whiskey deep, he let out a groan and muttered, “boys, i think i’m in love.”

gaz snorted, kicking his boots up on the table. “oh, yeah? you have some girl we don’t know about?”

“angel.”

ghost, who had been silently nursing his drink, stiffened.

gaz raised an eyebrow, “angel…?”

soap pulled out his phone and waved it lazily. “she’s some onlyfans girl, mate. best thing that i ever stumbled upon. swear to god, she cares about me.”

gaz laughed. “you are down horrendous, johnny boy.”

“oi, don’t judge me ‘til you’ve heard her. this girl is unreal. always saying the nicest things.” soap sighed dramatically.

gaz rolled his eyes. “yeah, mate. ‘cause she’s getting paid to do that.”

“so? it still counts for me.”

gaz held out a hand. “alright alright, lemme see.”

soap hesitated for a moment. “...fine. but don’t be weird about it.”

gaz took the phone, tapped through a few of the videos, and went silent.

after a moment, he muttered, “okay, shit. you might be onto something.”

soap smirked miraculously. “told you.”

ghost, who had been quietly brooding, finally spoke. “you idiots just now finding out about her?”

they both turned to look at him shocked.

gaz blinked. “w-wait, what?”

ghost took a sip of his whiskey, deadpan. “i’ve been subscribed for months.”

soap choked on his drink. “YOU WHAT?”

ghost shrugged carelessly. “found her first.”

gaz’s jaw dropped. “y-you mean to tell me you—simon ‘i hate everyone’ riley—has been secretly been subscribed to an onlyfans girl this whole time?”

ghost didn’t answer. he just took another sip of his whiskey.

soap stared at him, with a look of betrayal that you see in movies. “and you didn’t tell us?”

ghost gave him a flat look. “why the fuck would i tell you?”

soap pointed aggressively. “you gatekeeping bastard.”

gaz shook his head in amusement. “price is gonna lose his shit when he finds out.”

“Finds out what?”

the three of them turned to see price walking in, looking mildly suspicious.

for a moment, nobody spoke.

and then, without missing a beat, gaz held out the phone. “cap. you gotta see this.”

and that’s how, in the span of one drunken night, every single one of them became your most loyal subscribers.

—

and then you arrived.

your first day on base was nothing special—standard introductions, paperwork, getting settled.

well for you, at least.

but for them? it was a nightmare.

soap noticed it at first.

your voice—was way too familiar. too exact. the way you spoke, the soft warmth in your tone. it sent a shiver down his spine.

gaz eventually picked up on the way you moved—the tilt of your head, the way your fingers ghosted over their skin during check-ups.

ghost, who was normally unreadable, was tense.

and price? price just sighed a lot.

none of them said anything. they couldn’t.

because if they were wrong—if this was just some wild coincidence—then they’d look like absolute idiots.

but if they were right?

then their sweet, soft-spoken angel had just walked into their lives, completely unaware that every single one of them had been on their knees for her voice alone.

and fuck, they were not prepared for that.

[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!

[femalefemur]

18+ minors do not interact!

so you know that stupid tradition of the groom sticking his head under the bride's dress at the reception to pull the garter off? yeah that but every single one of the 141 would kiss your pussy while doing it.

johnny's full on making out with it over your underwear, leaving it sticking to you from a mixture of his spit and your arousal.

simon's got it pulled to the side so he can plant one directly on it and you can hear the deep rumble in his chest when you gasp in surprise.

kyle would place a kiss right over where your clit is under your underwear before running his tongue up the length of it.

and john would stuff his fingers in you while he gives your clit a harsh suck before letting go with an audible pop, comes out from under there with the garter in his teeth and licking his fingers.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Overheard confessions part 2? You over hear them confess to the team about how they love you and want to have an army of kids with you...or like a lot of dogs on a farm lol

Don't mind me, I'm just shrieking like a hyena over here. I am obsessed with the idea of a part two but from the opposite perspective. What happens when we hear the guys making the confession. I had way too much fun with this one. Just pure glee. Enjoy! (Find Part 1 HERE.)

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

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, breeding undertones, suggestive themes, mild alcohol/smoking, fluff, implied sexual content, mild dirty talk

Word Count: 2k

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

John Price

“You’re a mess, John.”

You clutch the manila envelope to your chest, coming to a dead stop just outside Captain Price’s office. The door is cracked, your hand pressed flat against the wood with the intent to enter. That flies out the coop. You’re glued to the spot, listening as Laswell continues to speak.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Care about my sleeping habits, Kate?”

Laswell snorts. “You look tired. What’s on your mind?”

There is a stretch of silence. You don’t dare breathe—don’t dare move. When Price doesn’t answer, you hear Laswell sigh. It’s not an annoyed sound, but one of pity. She knows what troubles him.

“It’s the secretary. Isn’t it?”

A secretary? What secretary?

You comb through all of them in the building. There are only a handful of you—maybe ten total.

“It’s nothing, Kate.”

“Just admit how you feel, John.”

Your hand drops from the door and crosses over your chest. The manila envelope crunches softly against your breasts as you squeeze it tighter.

“What do you want me to say? That I fancy the woman?” He scoffs.

“Yes,” replies Laswell. “It’s that simple.”

Your mind races. Of the ten secretaries in the building, there are maybe three—including yourself—that this could apply to. A blossom of hope blooms in your chest, a racing sensation of your heart palpitating. You shouldn’t wish for it, but for it to be you?

No.

“I’m her superior.”

This time, Laswell scoffs. “She’s not even your secretary, John. She’s mine, and I think you need to say something to her.”

Oh fuck.

It’s you. They’re talking about you.

“Really, Kate?”

“Really, John.” Laswell sighs. “Not to be crude, but maybe if she were getting laid, she wouldn’t hide my cigarettes when my wife tells her to.”

“Christ, Laswell.”

“No, John. Tell me how you feel about her.” He doesn’t. “I’m waiting.”

You hear a grumble on Captain Price’s end, then, “I want to make an army of kids with her. I want to wake up with her beside me and for her to be near when I sleep.” He pauses. “I like the way she throws her head back when she laughs. Her smile.” Then, softly, “I love everything about her.”

There is a tap tap tap of a shoe against linoleum, and then someone’s walking toward the door.

“That’s it, John. Just tell her how you feel and—”

The door opens wide, revealing you. Captain Price and Laswell both freeze. Price’s face goes from surprised to a dark shade of pink. Laswell’s shifts to a knowing smirk.

“Is that the file I asked for?”

“It is,” you affirm.

Laswell nods. “Hand it over to Captain Price. He needs to take a look at it first.”

“Laswell—”

“Goodnight, John,” she calls out, shutting the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone in the room.

Price clears his throat, standing.

“I heard what you said,” you say quickly.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“I—”

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand.

Dumping the manila folder on the desk, you circle to his side. Price is perfectly still, watching you the whole time. What you’re about to do is bold.

Placing your hand on his chest, you lean in. His entire demeanor softens as he mimics your movement.

“You said you wanted to make an army of kids with me.”

“It’s one thing I want to do with you.”

Shifting, you inch toward the desk, propping yourself up to sit on top of it. It’s true, you do need to get laid, and why not with a man who is more than willing.

Price’s gaze lowers as you spread your legs.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"She's fucking gorgeous, mate."

"Is that all?"

With back pressed against the wall, you listen in on the conversation.

Kyle and Johnny’s voices carry in the small apartment. You linger in the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and dining room. They have no idea that you are home, listening in just around the corner.

“No,” comes Kyle’s voice. It’s not sad but strained, like he’s trying to form the right words but keeps stumbling over what to say.

Anxiety grips your stomach, twisting tight.

"She's everything I want,” says Kyle, this time sounding confident.

"Everything?" Johnny whistles and you hear the creak of a chair. "You looking to marry her?"

The twisting sensation becomes a clamp. A vice grip that closes your throat.

"If she'll have me," answers Kyle immediately.

Johnny chuckles. "You'll marry her and then what? Pop out an army of wee bairns? Adopt a cat and two dogs?"

“All of the above,” answers Kyle. “Or nothing at all. It’s what she wants.”

“Oh, aye,” replies Johnny. “That's a good answer."

The sudden seizing of limb and lung relaxes, returning you to the moment. Your heartrate speeds up, becoming a thundering thing that threatens to burst from your chest. Kyle may be your boyfriend but you never suspected that this is what he wants.

"When do you plan on proposing?" asks Johnny.

"Haven't thought that far," murmurs Kyle.

"Too focused on how you're gonna have that army of barins?" laughs Johnny.

"You wanker,” mutters Kyle, but you hear the smile in it.

"Just remember—”

You cannot hide any longer. It’s unbearable.

Emerging suddenly—and almost tripping over your own foot in the process—the two men go quiet, their gazes widening as you appear like an apparition before them. Between then is an open bottle of scotch and various containers of Kyle’s favorite takeout spot.

Kyle is out of his seat in a second, heading for you. He whispers your name, a soft thing meant only for you, and all your love comes rushing up to warm your cheeks and soften your insides.

As he nears, the words tumble from you. "You want a small army with me?" you whisper.

"You heard that?" he asks.

The next words you form are dangerous yet you say them anyway. "Do you want to start trying?"

You put every ounce of lust you can muster into those few words. Kyle’s bodily response is immediate. His shoulders straighten, and a hungry need enters his eyes. This man is about to drag you to bed and fuck you raw for hours.

"Johnny," snaps Kyle, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. "Time for you to go."

John "Soap" MacTavish

A tornado rips through your senses.

Did you hear Johnny correctly? Surely not.

"You don't understand, Simon."

Johnny is in the bedroom pacing around while he talks to Simon on the phone. At your current distance from out in the hall, it’s difficult to hear Simon’s response.

"You're balls deep in a different lass every week. Don't hardly know their names. And you're going to give me shit about this?"

A snort almost escapes your nose, revealing your location. Johnny isn’t wrong. Simon is a notorious slut among Johnny’s group of friends. There is always a different woman on his arm whenever they go out.

Johnny pauses before continuing. "I love this woman. I want a bloody army of bairns with her. Fuck, I'll take an army of animals if that's what she bloody well wants."

He sounds irritated, but you know it’s just his passion. Johnny can be hotheaded, especially when it comes to the people he cares about. Either that or Simon is giving him shit on the other end.

"I need your support, Simon." All is quiet, and then you hear Johnny’s amused snort. "You're always giving me shit, Lt." He chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow at brief.”

You slip around the corner and enter the bedroom. Johnny glances up from his phone, his mouth a wide smile upon glimpsing you. “Come here,” he says with a sultry purr, reaching out.

You go to him without effort.

Wrapping you up in his arms, Johnny kisses the top of your head. You tilt your face upward, going in for something softer.

"I heard you talking on the phone,” you murmur, accepting another kiss from Johnny.

"Did you?"

"You want an army of kids?"

Johnny's neck flushes pink. "I may have said that."

Your hug becomes intimate, hands gently caressing until you find the front of his sweatpants. Johnny groans into your mouth as you find him, lightly rubbing him toward hardness. It’s a tease of a touch. The moment he’s throbbing under your hand, you pull away, fingers toying with the strings of his sweatpants.

"You don't mind if we start now?"

Johnny's gentle embarrassment becomes a sultry glare. "Oh, aye. We have the rest of the day and all night to try."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"I want her, Johnny."

The pan of brownies you’re holding nearly go crashing to the floor. Simon’s words are a brick wall. You’ve been baking all day because it’s the only thing you can do to distract yourself. The plan is to drop them off with Simon and let the boys devour them. Instead, you’re dumbfounded, standing right outside the door to the meeting room Price’s secretary told you to drop the sweets at.

“Who?” asks Soap absently.

When Simon speaks again, it is your name that falls from his lips. Yes, you and Simon are together, but you’re not together. This is fuck buddies. This is friends with benefits. This is…not a relationship.

Or so you thought.

But you’re at his place of work dropping off fucking brownies. The rest of his team call you by your first name. They expect you at functions when they all bring their significant others along. Yet you and Simon are not a couple.

Not officially anyway.

"Oh, aye?” asks Soap, his tone amused. “And does she want you?"

Yes. More than you know.

You’re fully aware that Johnny and Kyle give Simon shit about you. Not because they don’t like you—they adore you—but because they think Simon needs to put a ring on it. They aren’t quiet about it either.

But Simon has never been so forward with his feelings for you. He might tell you sweet things when his dick is deep inside you, but you’ve never heard him be this blunt.

"Don't care. She's mine, Johnny. I'll make sure of that." The mine is almost a growl, a possessive bite that sends a bolt of need to your core.

Johnny chuckles but there’s nothing condescending in it. He sounds…happy.

“Finally, Lt. Fucking finally!”

You hear Johnny enthusiastically smack Simon’s back—or shoulder—and then the man growls like he’s aggressively shaking Simon.

“You’re going to fucking crack my ribs, Johnny.”

“I’m just happy for you, Lt.”

You step forward, pressing your shoulder against the doorframe. They are still out of view, but you don’t want to reveal yourself yet.

“Finally going to make an honest woman out of her?” jokes Soap.

Simon snorts. “I’ll even make you an uncle, Johnny.”

“Me? I expect an army, Lt. Five mini-Riley’s running around.

“Fucking hell, Soap.”

Your cheeks are hot, and you’re standing out in the hall like an idiot. The last thing you need is for one of them to open to door and find you here.

Knocking to announce yourself, you open the door of the meeting room. They turn in your direction, but it’s only Johnny’s face that’s clear to you. Simon is wearing a balaclava, and the only part of him you can see are his eyes.

Johnny’s grin is devilish. “What’s that, love?”

“Brownies?”

He perks up. “Gaz is gonna flip his mug.” You hand them over and Johnny removes the foil on top. “I’m eating this entire pan.”

“Fuck off, Sergeant,” says Simon.

Johnny gives him a half-hearted salute before disappearing out the door, a chunk of brownie already shoved in his mouth.

“You just get here?” asks Simon, sauntering forward.

The soft sway of his hips is a tantalizing thing. You’re hypnotized. Locked in.

“No,” you whisper.

“No?”

“I—I heard you and Soap talking.”

Simon is inches away, his broad chest and shoulders seeming impossibly wide, almost boxing you in.

“What do you think?”

“You want me all to yourself?”

Simon’s voice is a growl. “You’ve always been mine. That’s never changed.”

You place your hand on Simon’s chest. “You promised Soap you’d make him an uncle.”

“I did.”

“And if I want to start right now?”

Simon leans in a bit further, his gaze burning like warm whiskey. “Then you should bend yourself over the table and lift that dress.”

taglist:

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[dmitriene]

tf141 as a delivery company, all four boys working so good that all people around you buzz with praises towards them, saying that if you search for someone to help you with some furniture to the new home, you should immediately select their company, and since you just moved to the neighborhood, why not.

it's johnny who you meet first, he's delivering a new bed, because the house is completely empty, and sleeping on the floor is not your best choice, so ordering a bed was a first and most important option, while the other furniture was on it's way.

the first thing you notice is his baby blue eyes, bright pebbles that shine in the morning sun when you greet him, slightly disheveled and dressed in some ordinary pajamas, too sleepy to notice the way johnny's gaze trails down your body and round curves, until asking where you need the bed, bonnie, because he's sure you won't be able to place it yourself.

johnny wonders if you'll let him suck at your cunt as a payment, thoughts clouded with how you'll could have looked sprawled on this new bed, scrabbling at his messy mohawk, mattress stained with a puddle of your syrupy slick and his drool, writhing prettily with your sleeping shorts dangling at your ankle.

too pretty for your own good, especially when you flash him a beaming smile on his way out, thanking him for his work with flattering tone of voice, and johnny glad you can't see the heavy boner between his legs, hidden beneath the baggy fabric of his working pants, staining his boxers with sticky precum.

then you meet kyle, prettiest boy you've ever seen, fitting to be a model rather than delivery guy, holding a heavy box with bedside table in his hands, honeyed eyes crinkling in bright smile when he asks you where he can place it, since you zoned on his face for too long, and unbeknownst to you, it got him much flustered.

he's a sunshine, a golden boy with how fast he works with his veiny hands, saying that you'll give him less than an hour and the table would be ready for you to use, still wearing a warm smile that makes you melt, nodding dumbly, just watching how kyle works, all but focused on the task in front of him, brows creasing.

his shirt riding up to reveal a glimpse of his lower back, skin smooth, and it's you who wonders about having fun with him, propped on his lap, toying with his most likely lengthy cock, all wet for you, imagining if he would let you play with him, or he'll flip you up and rearrange your glossy cunt till you're dumb.

kyle leaves you with a new furniture for a less than thirty minutes and winking at you when he stands at the doorway, leaning aside on his hip, saying that if you'll need more help, you know where to find him, and his name as well, and this leaves you with suddenly sodden panties and unspoken fantasies.

at the end, you meet simon and john, two bulky men that helped you with your new couch, a big thing that is better than the old, dusty one, and indeed worth of having two big men inside your house, crouched on the floor to settle the furniture up, telling you to not worry about a single thing, lass.

simon is more silent, efficient at his work and seems brooding, but his dark gaze softens everytime he meets your eyes as you check up on them, his hand caressing the small of your back briefly, just after john patted you there in reassurance, too close to the swell of your ass, murmuring that it's their work and you don't have to try and stick up to help in your own house.

cerulean eyes soothingly cold, with comforting smile hiding beneath his facial hair everytime your fingers touch, making you shudder briefly, almost praying so they'll won't notice how you eye them, how your cheeks tingle, but they both do.

wondering how you'll look seated on this plush couch, stripped bare and stretched around john's fat cock, with simon's throbbing girth down your tight little throat, an obedient housewife for them, sweet darling that could help them relieve after hard work, and perhaps, since you're living all alone, they could make you theirs.

it's the moment all of the boys are out on the weekends evening in some town pub, drinking glass after glass of warming, tart liquid, when johnny breaks up in slurring about what a cutie he meet when delivering some really big bed, and when kyle joined next, and then simon, john's eyes squinting as he strokes at his mutton chops, your appearance coming up like pieces of puzzles through their talk, everything fell into place.

all along, they were dreaming of the same bird, in the same house in a small neighborhood, sweet darling with giddy smiles and too longing gazes, and since they're such a good team, why won't they're help you a bit more this time, one for one.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[oceantornadoo]

something borrowed, something blue masterlist

john price, head of the price mafia family, needs a wife. luckily, simon riley has an unmarried sister and a need for resources. only problem? prices and rileys don't exactly mix well...

AO3 LINK

the proposal

the meeting

wedding week

the wedding

the honeymoon

a week of friendship

a bookstore in the making

mended bonds

an almost fresh start

past dreams and current nightmares

snitches and rats

found you

baby steps

a new chapter

this is an enemies to lovers, arranged marriage mafia au! john price x f!reader. reader is simon's half sister. all of our four boys will be featured (eventually). the "enemies" part is mutual disdain, not life or death enemies. lots of cheeky banter here. it is medium burn, since the lines of "hate" and passion can be easily crossed. the rileys are a smaller manchester gang and the prices are in charge of london's biggest mafia. i am american so some places/slang/logistics might be not be right!! don't hate me! i am googling manchester/london slang but if you have some recs, feel free to comment. more to come <3

tag: fic: sbsb mafia price

taglist is closed, pls turn on notifs <3

[luxcuriousao3]

Task Force 141 + The Best They've Ever Had

Just thinking about you being the best fuck the boys have ever had.

warnings: smut (obvi), piv, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, protected sex, fingering, briefly mentioned s/m but no actual s/m, reader is kinda a fuck boy (fuck girl?), slight hint of dacryphillia if you squint maybe, no use of y/n

Gaz

You go for Gaz first—he's the prettiest, and he's incredibly smooth. He charms you easily, makes you comfortable enough to invite him back to your place despite having just met that night. He's all confidence and no arrogance. He knows he looks good and he knows he fucks good. He's sure he's going to blow your mind, leave you aching for more…

Instead, you give him head so good his climax comes early, his come flooding your mouth. A broken moan leaves him when you swallow and look up at him through your lashes, a sweet, innocent smile on your face, but your eyes are sultry enough to get a man hard in seconds. His spent cock twitches valiantly, but his orgasm was so strong that he knows he won’t be able to go again for hours.

He’s incredibly embarrassed, but he tries not to show it, and gets you off twice in apology—once with his fingers and once with his mouth. You see him out at the end of the night. He was hoping to stay longer, perhaps get to fuck you after all, but you’re a busy woman, and you’ve got things to do early tomorrow morning.

Gaz doesn’t tell the rest of the boys about this particular hookup, knowing he’d never hear the end of it from Soap—but he keeps the memory of it close for long, lonely missions.

Price

Perhaps surprisingly, Price is your next victim hookup. He doesn’t get out much, but you manage to catch him on one of his rare nights off.

He takes you back to his place, a small but neat flat not far from the base he’s stationed at. There’s a fine layer of dust on all of the furniture, showing how rarely he’s home, and he’s amused by you jokingly asking if he’s actually breaking you into someone else’s apartment.

He pours you both a glass of wine, and you talk for a while as you drink, continuing to get to know one another. Well, it’s really just him getting to know you—he’s a private man, and he knows how to talk without actually saying much—but he finds that he doesn’t mind that. You’re quite a talented speaker, genuine and animated about every topic that comes to mind. Your little quirks and mannerisms only make you more attractive.

Once both your glasses are empty, and the two of you have drifted close enough to touch, he cups your chin in one hand and leans down to kiss you. He can feel you smile against his lips, and you pull away with a little giggle that makes his brows raise in curiosity.

“Your beard tickles,” you tell him, before sitting up a little more so you can kiss him again. It’s endlessly endearing, and he can’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, his cock chubbing up in his jeans. He’s eager to find out if his beard will tickle your cunt, too.

Not too long later, he gets his answer—a resounding yes—as well as discovers a new addiction. You taste like heaven, like well aged whiskey, like his favorite brand of cigars, and he suddenly realizes he no longer wants to die in the field in some fiery blaze of glory.

He’d much rather you just smother him with your cunt.

Unfortunately, he has a duty to his country, so he reluctantly shifts you off of him so he can breathe. It’s for the best, really, because he’s about to come just from eating you out. You don’t give him a chance to rest, though, moving down his body and sinking down onto his hard cock. You both gasp at the same time—Price from the pleasure, and you from the stretch. Clearly, you hadn’t realized just how thick he was, and now you’re tearing up and pouting while sat on his cock. He shushes you sweetly, stroking your cheek and rubbing your clit, enamored by the adorable picture you make. Soon enough, the sting fades, and you start riding him like your life depends on it. He plays with your tits the whole time, sucking and licking your nipples, his hands on your hips guiding your movements.

When he comes, it’s pure ecstasy. He’s never felt this good before, not even with his ex-wife. He knows then that he wants to keep you—and he can only hope that his seed filling your sweet pussy takes root deep in your womb.

Silly you forgot to put a condom on him, and of course, he didn’t see any reason to remind you. You sigh when you realize, and mutter something about getting the morning after pill. His grip tightens on your hips for a second, but he forces himself to relax. It’s only eighty percent effective, he tells himself. There’s still a chance.

Ghost

You meet Ghost next. You see him at the bar, all broad shoulders, bulky muscles, and towering height. But what makes you throw caution to the wind is the mask. You sidle on up to him, give him your signature sweet smile when he looks you up and down, and don’t let it phase you when he just grunts in reply to your greeting. It takes longer than it usually would to get Ghost back to your apartment—most guys are raring to go once you give them the signal—but after a few gentle touches, one long winded ramble about a topic you’re passionate about, and a couple shots, he gets that familiar look of want in his dark eyes, and you know you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker.

You don’t expect him to be a gentleman, but he insists on making you come on his fingers before he even takes his clothes off. It’s actually really fucking hot, and you’re even more eager than usual to return the favor. You sink down to your knees to try and suck him off, but he effortlessly hoists you back up and tosses you onto the bed, slowly undoing his belt and pulling it off. You spread your legs wide for him and bite your lip, half hoping he’ll snap the belt against your cunt or bind your wrists with it. Instead, he tosses it aside, opens up his fly, rolls on the condom, and presses inside you. He’s fucking massive, and you grasp one of his hands in yours as you whimper and whine through the stretch. He goes slow, at least until you’re adjusted—and then he’s obeying your demands as you order him to give it to you harder, faster, more, more, more.

Ghost has to keep stopping to just grind into you, because the way your tits bounce as he rails you, the sounds you’re making, and the tight, hot, wet grip of your pussy is too fucking much. He’s never been one for hookups really, hasn’t fucked anyone in ages, but there was something about you. Pretty face, beautiful body, and clearly into him, even with the mask—it’s not something he experiences often. He’s struck with the sudden urge to pull off the mask and kiss your lips, swallow every gorgeous gasp and moan you let out—but he can’t, won’t, so instead he buries his face in your neck, panting harshly as he thrusts into you, hard and fast, just like you’re begging for.

When it’s over, and he’s filled the condom with a frankly concerning amount of come, he stays buried deep in your pussy, with you pinned beneath him, his face still tucked into your neck. He doesn’t want to move, and the fact that you seem content to let him stay like that only makes him want you more.

When you finally shift like you want to get up, he has to fight the overwhelming urge to just ignore you. Instead, he finally pulls out of you and sits up, letting his eyes rove every inch of you as he does up his trousers. That little smile you give him makes his heart stutter, and he's torn between fleeing and begging you to let him stay.

You make the decision for him, thanking him for a great fuck and asking him if he needs you to call him an Uber.

Pride stinging and chest aching, Ghost walks back to the barracks.

Soap

Soap’s a stray dog that just wants a forever home. A handsome, lonely, loveable, eager mutt. So when he’s pounding into you in the back seat of your car because he was too excited to wait till you got back to your place, moaning and grunting and whining like the puppy he is, the words just slip out.

“Want ye, want ye tae be mine, please bonnie, want ye all fer myself.”

You coo at him, finding how pussy drunk he is adorable, and thread your fingers through his mohawk to pull him in for a kiss. He groans into your mouth as he comes, humping you through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You giggle, pulling back to nibble at his stubbled jaw as he pants in your ear.

“So?” He asks, voice wrecked but hopeful, and you feel a little bad when you realize his words weren’t just dirty talk. “What aboot it, lamb? Will ye be mine?”

“My pussy that good?” You tease him, trying to let him down easily. You can tell he realizes, his eyes tightening just a little in disappointment before his expression smooths back over into the cocky one he’d charmed his way into your pants with.

“Best I’ve ever had,” he answers, and you can hear the truth of it in his voice, even as he winks at you, holding up a two fingered salute. “Scot’s honor.”

“Pretty sure it’s scout’s honor,” you correct him, but he just smirks and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “Scot’s honor is better. We’re a loyal bunch.”

And Christ, but he’d be a loyal dog to you, if only you’d keep him.

[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

[scoobywrites690]

Poly 141 concept cw: peeping tom (tom's in this case) mature language

Getting fucked by John Price in his office as the rest of the 141 team stand on the otherside of the door tugging at their dicks as your sweet moans leak out from under the gap in the door. 

The desk squeaking across the wooden floor boards with each thrust of John's hips. Papers littering the office floor as a result of John sweeping the desk clean before hoisting you up onto it and spreading your legs. 

John knew the guys were on the opposite side of the door as they didn’t keep their infatuation with you very secret. He knew they all seeked you out when you came down to the base, wherever you were, the guys were close behind. All of the ogling at you, practically drooling at the sight of you. So, it’s why John made a point of fucking you on his desk, where he knew everyone would be able to here. 

Your moans bounced off the office walls as John plowed deep into you, his dick hitting depths deep inside of you. The guys were going mad on the other side of the door, with Johnny most likely being told off for trying to open the door, his excuse being that he just wanted a peak.

Whilst you continue being fucked silly on John’s desk having no idea that theres a group of guys outside the door desperate to join in, desperate to have their hands all over you body grabbing and pinching, whilst their mouths suck and lick all over you. The boys weren’t sure how you’d react to them joining in, which is why they’ve held themselves back from bargaining in and filling your mouth with someone's cock.

 It wouldn’t have been the first time they’ve all had sex with a woman at the same time, but it’s not something John had gotten round to talking to you about, and until then they had a strict rule of no joining in.

But they were desperate, they had been chasing you around base for months now in hopes that something would naturally happen between you and the guys but you were loyal to John and only John. And until their intentions were brought forward by John, they believed it would stay that way. Yet they couldn’t help themselves from cracking the door open the tiniest bit, just so they could get a glance at what they all so desperately craved. 

From the small gap they were able to see you spread out on their bosses desk, legs spread, tits free, nipples hard and perky, bouncing with every thrust of their captains hips, and your face had the most fucked out expression plastered on it. Just the sight of you had the guys close to finishing in their pants.

John gives the guys a quick smirk with a cheeky wink before planting his grip on your hips and driving into you, desperate to have you finish so he can fill you to the brim with his cum. His grip is bruise inducing as he bends to suck at your nipples, his tongue tracing the pebbled skin, nipping at it gently with his teeth before moving on to the other one to give it the same attention. John was a generous man, what can I say?

Your legs shake around him as his dick hits deep inside of you over and over again, sending you spiralling closer to your orgasm. Locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck you let your head hang back as you wait for your approaching orgasm to hit you. It’s only then that you realise the door had been opened and not only that but there were three sets of eyes staring directly at you. 

The realisation that people were watching had you clamping down around John’s cock, your orgasm suddenly seeming much more powerful than before.  And as John finished deep inside you, you couldn’t help but stare at the men on the other side of the door. The sight of them watching you as their captain fucked you had unlocked something deep inside of you, something you never knew about.

Masterlist

[ryuzakemo128]

Link added for part two.

Sharky is the Female Reader's childhood nickname. Just to add some lore to Sharky as your nickname.

Sharky

Pairing: Popular! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Loser! Welsh! Female Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Cussing & Cuss Words. Popular x Loser Trope??, college au!, angst, romance & smut (Later).

Note: This female reader is the same as the one in this fic.

Word Count: 465

Summary: Kyle, the man who gets asked out by you. You were doing it to prove a point.

Kyle, the man who gets asked out by you. You were doing it to prove a point. That your world is far too different from the one he resides inside. You won't call him perfect because you don't believe people by their human nature can reach perfection. Ever.

The word pretty feels like a slap in the face to the other words women should be using in its stead. You purposefully flipped through a thesaurus to find words to compliment the guy. Scouring through it like a woman on a confidential mission of some sort.

You were certain he would be more than a little unprepared for someone like yourself. Monster Trucks. Large beasts of machinery. Something more to your own speed. Much like the motorcycle stunts and the mechanical bull riding. This is something you got into regularly enough to know someone like Kyle didn’t or wouldn’t go anyway near.

The aspect of making sure Kyle knew what kind of person you are. Remained strong, deep inside you. It was something you felt was essential to do. Before you did anything else, you made sure he had a drive inside your bull shark themed monster truck. “Try it out.” You stated.

Kyle frowned unsure, perhaps a little nervous, yet you could see his curiosity won over his nerves and he climbed into the driver’s seat of the monster truck. “You know how to drive one of these things?” he questioned.

“Absolutely. It’s fun, your fancy cars do not compare against a truck like this, she’s not a Ferrari, she doesn’t have the elegance of a Lamborghini or the sleekness of a Porche. What she have is weight behind her powerful engine. She makes jumps the size of a small house. But the small things that I do think should be important, she’s got heart, she’s got guts, and she’s got enough power to blow you away if you treat her right,” you remarked with excitement.

Nothing prepared him for the amount of power behind the wheel of this monster truck. You didn’t think he take to your brief lesson of how to control it like a duck to water. You would have asked him out sooner if you knew. But alas, the past is in the past and the future is always the next day away.

By the time the actual Monster truck rally started you knew this is a good chance this is a one-off thing and it wouldn’t happen again. But for what it is. You enjoyed every moment. From watching Kyle in the muddy tracks to watching him in the stands watching other trucks doing stunts. Every moment a ticking time bomb waiting to happen.

Your world is too different from his. For now. You were more than alright with that.

Masterlist

Dividers Credit: @cafekitsune

Part Two

[luvbabydoll]

— under their noses — chapter four

a series made by © luvbabydoll

warnings — smut mdni

the camera was rolling, the soft hum of the base just outside your quarters barely registering as you shifted on the bed, running your fingers along the hem of your unbuttoned uniform shirt.

this was just another video. another post. another payday.

you knew your audience. knew what they liked. knew that the whole forbidden angle—being the base’s nurse, technically off-limits—only made them more eager to empty their wallets for you.

the door creaked open.

and price stepped in.

you froze.

he didn’t speak at first. just stood there, eyes flicking between the camera and you.

you felt your pulse hammer against your ribs.

this was it. you were done. surely, he’d chew you out, report you, maybe even send you off base—

but then, he locked the door.

your breath hitched.

"keep going," he said.

your brain short-circuited. “…what?”

he tilted his head, arms crossing over his broad chest. "you heard me."

you stared. this had to be some kind of test.

so you decided to push back.

a slow, coy smile spread across your lips. you tilted your chin, voice smooth as silk. "wanna join me, captain?"

you expected him to scoff. maybe roll his eyes, tell you to knock it off—

but then his gaze darkened.

his jaw ticked.

and then—

"oh, sweetheart." his voice dropped to a low, gravelly rumble. "you have no idea what you just asked for."

you barely had time to react before he moved.

before he was suddenly there, right in front of you, kneeling.

your stomach flipped. your breath caught.

you thought—no way. he wasn’t actually—

but then his hands were on you.

firm. rough. heat searing through the fabric of your open uniform.

he dragged you to the edge of the bed.

and before you could even process what was happening—

he spread your thighs and dove in.

he was starving.

no slow teasing. no testing the waters.

he was fucking devouring you.

his tongue was hot, insistent, dragging through your slick folds as he groaned like a man who’d just been served his first meal in weeks.

the vibrations shot straight through you, your head tipping back, fingers clutching at the sheets as he ate.

licked.

sucked.

his beard was rough, scraping against your sensitive skin, but the contrast—the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue flicked over your clit with purpose—had you whimpering.

and that only seemed to fuel him.

"that’s it, love." his voice was muffled, husky against your cunt. "let me hear you."

a shudder tore through you, your thighs twitching against his grip.

he held you still. big, calloused hands keeping you open as his tongue fucked into you, pressing, rolling, dragging desperate sounds from your lips.

you clenched around nothing, back arching, but he didn’t let up.

didn’t stop.

didn’t relent.

like he’d been waiting for this. like this was his plan all along.

and when he moaned into you—guttural, shameless—you shattered.

your orgasm tore through you, sudden and sharp, your body writhing against his firm grip.

and he didn’t stop.

not until you were shaking.

not until you were whimpering his name.

not until you were begging.

and only then did he pull back, his lips and beard shining.

his eyes were blown. dark. a predator who’d just tasted his first real kill.

and then—he licked his lips.

“sweet as fuck,” he muttered.

and then?

he stood.

towering over you. smug. amused.

he leaned down.

tipped your chin up with two fingers.

and in a low, satisfied drawl, he said—

“that all you needed, sweetheart?”

—

the next day

soap opens his phone. gets a notification.

he grins, clicking on it.

and then—

silence.

pure. unholy. silence.

gaz looks over his shoulder. "what’s wrong?"

soap doesn’t respond. just slowly turns the screen around.

ghost leans in.

and all three men see it.

you.

on the bed. fucked-out, breathless.

and price.

on his fucking knees.

mouth coated in you, looking up at the camera like it’s a goddamn mission briefing.

soap screams.

gaz falls to his knees.

ghost just leaves. he’s done.

and then—

price walks into the room, casual as ever, tea in hand.

looks at them. then at the phone.

raises an eyebrow.

“something wrong, lads?”

[tojisun]

price having to shove his fingers into gaz’s mouth whenever you let him cum inside you because of how loud he starts whimpering

im a mess on the floor that someones gotta mop me off atp!!

kyle’s in between john’s legs, his back pressed flush on his captain’s front, while you have been a marvel before them—riding kyle while john pets your lover throughout, callused fingers flicking at kyle’s pretty nipples, softly tugging at the jewelled piercings he’s got on. they glint with every fractured light, and john had been infatuated, unable to put his paws away.

kyle’s nipples are pebbled, sensitive, and john tugs at the rings again in tandem with every of your bounce—thighs shaking, your own tits a wild distraction, and your manicured nails flicking at your clit because kyle’s gone slack, unable to do it for you now that he’s oversensitive.

one particular thrust bumps his cock against your walls and you wail, almost toppling over. you had to stop, trying to breathe through the deep press of his length, its cockhead thick and breaching, your hole spasming around him. but your cunt is soft, drenched, and feverishly hot, and kyle is losing his hold. his orgasm peaks—

then it breaks.

he lets out a deep groan as he cums, his voice is a heavy reverb, and john has to stuff his fingers in your beloved’s mouth to keep him quiet. no one would hear, truly, not with how far and private john’s quarters are, but it is such a dizzying idea—john plugging up kyle to shut him up—so he does it, almost in a daze. he digs his fingers into kyle’s tongue, feels the vibration of his moans rippling from the inside of kyle’s mouth, and placates your wailing lover with nuzzling kisses.

“shh, little bird,” john murmurs. “be quiet f’me, won’t you?” kyle gargles something unintelligible and john chuckles, fully endeared.

he flicks his eyes up to you, asking despite the silence. you’ve yet to cum and being pumped full of kyle’s seed has made you increasingly needy, razing your body with pinpricks of desire that is so ever-bloating, but you wait quietly, obediently, knowing that your captain will be the one to take you until you are weeping and begging for a reprieve.

(the three of you know, anyway, that ever since your escapade with the captain, no one else could make you cum because there is no one that can replicate his… dominance, sure, but mostly his presence. how it’s so overwhelming and intoxicating; terrifying, almost, with how you always felt irrevocably small before him. how you felt so seen no matter how much you try to shield yourself from his eyes.

john fills you up, in a way that is more than a weeping cock. he fills up that gaping chasm within you that aches for someone to—

well—

to take over. to take care of you.

to possess you.)

john’s other hand is still massaging your hip, a gentle sort of appreciation, so you take over the worship done to kyle’s chest; kiss-swollen lips peck at his buds, before pearly teeth tug at the barbells.

kyle jumps, lurching, and john has to restrain him again. you giggle, a little breathless thing, because another weak spurt fills you up, kyle’s cock pulsating throughout.

god, you want more.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Need 141 with a virgin reader 🙏

Virgin reader? Having sex for the first time?? On it. Another popular request with several people asking for it. Decided to combine it all into one large post. And, since this is just an excuse to write smut, that's exactly what I did. I hold no shame for that. I had a blast, lots of cackling as I was drafting. Have fun, y'all!

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

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, missionary, vaginal fingering, loss of virginity, rough sex, sex toys, doggy, spanking, just married, hand job

Word Count: 3.1k

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

John Price

You were told to stay away, to not chase after him. But you love danger, even though you’ve never truly tasted it.

“I won’t go easy on you because you’re a virgin.” John’s voice is poisoned sin. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. It drags on it a bit, drawing it down, showing him your teeth. “You’ll fuck the way I tell you to.”

John retreats, your lip popping back into place. He sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread, completely dressed. It’s the opposite of your current state. Kneeling before him, you’re entirely bare—exposed.

You signed up for this—wanted this.

On the floor between John’s booted feet is a dildo. The base is a flat square and suctioned to the floor. It juts upward with a slight curve to it, the shaft ribbed. John pops open a bottle of lube and holds it out. You immediately present your hand. The clear gel is cold when it makes contact with your palm. John caps the bottle.

“Do what I told you.” John nods toward the dildo. “Show me how’d you’d touch me if that were me.”

You do as he says, wrapping your hand around the dildo, the lube spreading to coat the silicone as you move up and down in the way you think you’re supposed to. There is no experience to lead your hand. John watches silently, face stoic and vacant of emotion. It isn’t until the dildo is coated in lube that John leans forward and grabs your wrist.

Turning your palm upward, John lightly tugs. It’s a command to come to him.

Placing your free hand on his knee, you shift forward. Still kneeling, you settle between his spread legs, the lube-coated dildo rubbing up against the inside of your thigh.

“If I were to fuck you right now, I might hurt you.” John’s gaze drops to the dildo. “You’re going to sink down on that. Take your time. Ride it a bit. And once you’re prepped for me, I’m taking you how I want.”

His words freeze your limbs. You are unable to move—unable to think.

“Go on, love. Show me.”

John’s voice is the coaxing tease that pulls you from your vacant lull. Licking your lips, you sit up on your knees, spreading them enough to angle the head of the dildo and your entrance. You’ve never been penetrated before, not even with a toy or fingers.

But he said you could go slow. Go at your own pace.

With fingers digging into his knee, you start to come down, the head slipping in. As more enters, you whimper, the stretch stinging a bit.

“Slow,” murmurs Price. “Breathe through it. That’s it.”

You listen to his soothing words, sinking further and further down until you can’t take any more.

“Come back up. Like that. Good. Now, down.” As you start to descend, the dildo starts to vibrate. You gasp, and then moan loudly as the vibrations stimulate a sensitive spot inside.

“Again,” growls John.

You move in earnest this time, not caring if your movements look weird or if it’s messy. John is staring at you with hunger in his eyes, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

With his free hand, John undoes his belt and then the front of his pants. His cock emerges, already dripping and hard. He brings your lube-coated hand to it, and you enthusiastically start pumping him the way you did the dildo even as you rock back and forth. It’s only a few strokes more before your hand job slows, the vibrations from the dildo building up the first orgasm of your life. It doesn’t seem to bother John in the least, not when your eyelids flutter and you grind down, almost crying as you fall apart.

The dildo is still vibrating inside you when John stands and hooks his hands beneath your armpits. He helps you off and onto your feet.

“My turn, love.”

You only nod, breathing heavy as John guides you onto your hands and knees on the bed. There’s a shuffling and then John’s hand is on your upper back pressing your front into the bed, leaving your ass high in the air. As the head of his cock enters, his hand slides upward to your neck and then to your head. There, he presses, pushing your face into the bed as he thrusts forward, sinking into your body.

You cry out, fists clenching the sheets. The dildo might have helped but that was you doing the work. This is all John, fucking you savagely, skin slapping against skin as you’re drilled into the bed. The hand not at your head is on your ass, pushing your hips higher, opening you wider for him to hit deeper.

Every few thrusts that hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap, bouncing your cheek and stinging with each strike. All you can do is take it, but it’s deliciously devilish.

You wanted this, and you can’t help but smile.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Is that okay?”

You start to curl into yourself, sinking further into the pillows behind you on the bed.

Johnny’s head tilts slightly. “Course it’s okay, love. Think I care if you’re experienced or not?”

You shrug. “Some men do.”

He shakes his head, the hint of a laugh on his breath. Leaning in, he seizes your mouth with his own. The kiss is sweet—welcoming. You melt like softened butter. With your surrender comes an intensifying need, an electricity that buzzes between your bodies.

Johnny offers more: a deeper kiss and strong hands trailing along your body. Your legs fall open of their own volition and Johnny slots himself between, pressing you deeper into the pillowy softness beneath you.

Every touch is tinged with desperation. You find yourself clinging to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back, pulling him closer though there is no room. Johnny matches your hunger, the two of you a tangled nest of limbs and want.

You’ve explored, you’ve been kissed, and yet you’ve never gone all the way with anyone.

But with Johnny, you do.

Johnny breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air. He descends, nuzzling your neck, lips tracing along the pulse point there.

“You want me to continue?” he asks, voice raspy.

You hook a leg over the back of his thigh in answer.

Johnny’s hands move up and down the sides your body, squeezing and groping as they go, leaving nothing untouched. His lips descend, finding your shoulder and collarbone, then the curve of your breast. His tongue circles a nipple, and then lightly sucks it into his mouth.

You gasp, back arching, unable to comprehend the sensation. Playing with them yourself is nothing compared to the way Johnny worships them, how he takes his time, cupping each one to kiss and suck and lick.

Johnny brings the nipples to stiff points, and still, he does not cease—not until you’re wiggling, wanting more than this.

“Johnny,” you whimper, wanting to feel him everywhere, to feel him inside.

He glances up from between your breasts, a small smirk on his face. “Keep going?” he asks.

“Please,” you beg, because it’s all you can muster.

Lips trail over stomach and pelvic bone, each leg draped over a shoulder. Johnny tenderly kisses your inner thighs.

“Am I the first to taste you?” he asks, one finger gently sliding over your sex. You’re dripping—needy, pussy clenching with every touch. You nod, and Johnny’s smirk becomes a full grin. “An honor then.”

He spares you nothing. Johnny isn’t interested in coaxing you anywhere. There is no softness, no gentleness since this is your first time. Johnny is ravenous, drawing his tongue up and down your pussy, dipping inside before swirling up to tease your clit. He plays with you until your thighs shake and you push on his head.

It’s too much, and still, Johnny persists.

When he slips one finger inside, and then a second, that is when he lifts his head. He pumps lazily, eyelids heavy, lips and chin wet.

“I’m making camp here. Don’t expect to be leaving soon.”

His mouth returns to your clit, and you completely forget yourself. You lose words and thoughts, becoming numb and weightless, as if you’ll float upward like a balloon. Just because you’re a virgin, why did you think Johnny would spare you? That he would go slowly?

Johnny ceases only when tears run down your cheeks. He licks them up, and then kisses you with your release painting his lips. “Gonna fuck you now,” he murmurs, the head of his cock pressing against your sex.

His large, muscled arms press into the pillows on the either side of your head. Hips shifting, Johnny starts to sink in. There’s a brief flicker of resistance and then nothing, just all pleasure, and Johnny stretching you. You gasp, and Johnny groans loudly, head falling back as he settles in to the hilt.

“Fucking hell. You’re tight. Fuck—”

Johnny continues to swear, to mutter expletives under his breath as he slides out and then back in. Two more thrusts and Johnny is shaking his head. “I’m already—fuck, love. I’m gonna come.”

Johnny becomes a boulder, nearly flattening you against the bed as he thrusts once, twice, and then holds still, the muscles in his body stiffening slightly and then relaxing. A little shudder runs through him, and a new, warm wetness fills your pussy.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The gold wedding band on Simon’s finger shines in the low lamp light.

This man is all yours. Forever. Til death do you part.

And yet, you’ve never slept with him, never shed your clothes and become one. Not that the two of you have been entirely celibate your relationship. There were desperate moments when the two of you came together in the dark, but knowing that you didn’t want to have sex until after marriage, Simon made the effort to steer you away from breaking that promise.

He didn’t have to. He could have taken advantage. It’s what plenty of other men would have done. But Simon isn’t just any man. You told him what you wanted, and even in your most desperate moments when you begged for him, he kept you to it.

Now, the ceremony is done.

The two of you made a quiet exit after the dancing started. You thought you’d be exhausted, that the two of you might order some pizza and fall asleep to some reality show playing in the background.

But Simon is removing his tie, unbuttoning the front of his white shirt, black suit jacket tossed to the side. He glances over his shoulder at you, and you see a hunger there. There won’t be pizza or a reality show marathon.

“Come here,” he says, and your feet move without hesitation. His arms are powerful, ensnaring you the second you’re close enough to reach for. Simon’s fingers brush over the fabric of your wedding dress, tracing the beadwork and detail. “Need help with this?”

You don’t, but you give him your back anyway.

Simon takes his time, unzipping the dress like you’re a delicate present. The moment there’s bare skin, he leans down and places his lips there. A little shiver runs through you, followed by a growing ache.

Hands sliding beneath fabric, Simon eases it over your shoulders, down your arms, and to your hips. You join in, helping it over your curves to pool at your feet on the floor. Simon caresses a line down one arm before backing away.

As you turn, he loosens his belt, opening it up to unzip his dress pants and popping the button. He walks backward toward the bed, easing down to the edge of the bed. Slowly, he falls back onto his shoulders, stretched out and a bit disheveled.

“Go on, love. Do what you want.”

All this time, you’ve talked a big game, begged him for sex, described what you want from him when the time finally comes. It’s here, and yet you’re frozen to the spot, gaze fixed on his muscled stomach.

“I’m all yours.”

Slowly, you walk toward him, placing one knee on the edge of the bed. Simon’s hand promptly reaches for you, resting against your thigh a moment before sliding up and squeezing. Though Simon appears in control of himself, you notice the way his chest heaves with every breath he takes.

Swinging your leg up and over, you straddle his lap. Both of his hands are on you now, groping and touching, dragging you closer to him until your bodies are sandwiched together.

“Simon,” you sigh, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

“Fuck it,” he growls, scooping you up in his arms, and flipping you onto your back.

Pinning you beneath him, Simon claims your mouth—devouring you like it’s his due. And you are not immune, wanting him just as much, pulling at his dress shirt to reveal more of him. Simon doesn’t undress you, leaving the white bra, thong, and stockings untouched. Instead, he pushes the thong to the side, fingers seeking your arousal.

He drags his middle finger up and down your sex, groaning against your throat as he does so.

“Need you,” he groans. “Need to be inside you.”

You reach for his pants, shoving at them hastily, needing the same.

“Take me, Simon. Please. Want to feel you.”

Simon joins in your hunger, pushing his pants down enough for his hard cock to emerge. You’re already grabbing at him, already guiding him to your entrance. You don’t care that it might hurt, that you could be wetter—slicker. You just want Simon inside you. You want him everywhere.

With a low groan, Simon urges your legs wider, and then he’s easing inside. You gasp at first, the stretch of him a bit painful.

“You can take me, love,” he murmurs.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you burying your face against his throat as Simon’s hands slide under your ass to prop your hips up. It gives him a better angle to drive home, to fit your bodies together until you’re flush against him.

“Mine,” he murmurs as his cock slowly slides out. “Mine,” he repeats, this time growling as he thrusts forward.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“We’ll go slow. There’s no rush.”

Kyle’s words are a comfort, a soothing balm against the anxiousness. You’re excited, eager, but nervous all the same. You love this man. You want to be with him in all ways, especially this.

His kiss is slow and languid, just as comforting as his words. It is easy to trust him, to allow his presence to chase away whatever trepidation you hold. He cradles your face and your body, taking his time, showing you with his actions that his words have meaning.

Between kisses, Kyle’s hands roam, caressing and exploring. His touch is electric. Wherever his skin touches yours sends a small shiver through your body.

“All good?” asks Kyle, pausing his delicious kisses, gaze roaming over your body.

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning in for more.

He opens up, offering his own greed in return. When his hands start to work at your clothes, you happily help him, reaching for him as much as he’s reaching for you. Clothes are discarded, but Kyle doesn’t faulter.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, fingers dancing across your bare body. “Do you want to touch me?”

“Touch you?” you giggle, because you’re already touching him.

His smile is soft as he takes your hand and guides it to his erection. “Here,” he groans as your fingers find him.

Kyle does not instruct, he simply gives you permission to explore, to run your fingers along the length, to brush your thumb over the slit where a pearly bead blooms, to bring that thumb to your mouth to taste him.

“You’re a bit salty,” you murmur, and Kyle chuckles.

Curiosity gets the better of you. As you press on his shoulders, urging him onto his back, you wiggle downward, intent on licking the next drop up from the source.

“Wait,” groans Kyle, grasping the back of your neck. “Don’t.” You glance up, not understanding. He shakes his head. “I’ll be done in seconds if you do that.”

He urges you back into his arm, and then Kyle is kissing you again, the two of you exploring with your hands. As Kyle delves between your legs, you open for him, sighing with pleasure as the tip of one finger circles your clit.

“This okay?” he whispers against your lips. You hum with contentment and Kyle shifts that finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it in. “What about this?”

His palm presses against your clit as he penetrates you with a second finger. Your back arches, hips rocking forward to take more.

“That’s a yes, love,” he croons. “Ride it. Take what you need.”

You don’t care if you look ridiculous, you only know what your body wants, and seeking it out. Kyle stays perfectly still, watching you ride his fingers, watching where his fingers disappear and reappear with every rock of your hips. The flat of his palm perfectly rubs against your clit, and it takes only a minute before your pussy clenches around his fingers.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw as your orgasm rockets upward and explodes, splitting like an atom bomb.

You don’t even realize he’s withdrawn his fingers until he’s sucking them clean and pushing you onto your back. The head of his cock settles, and then presses is. You gasp at the brief resistance.

“You can take me,” whispers Kyle. “Relax. Breathe.”

He doesn’t move, just waits, and when your breathing begins to slow, he gives you a bit more. The resistance is gone, leaving only a delicious stretch that makes you feel utterly full.

Kyle’s rhythm is a soft rocking. You feel every inch leaving and then returning.

“This is the pace. You tell me if you want more.” Kyle’s voice is rough—laced with lust. You can tell that he wants to be a bit rough, that he’d love to hold you down and fuck you senseless, but he’s purposefully being gentle to not rush you—to make you feel loved and safe.

He kisses you as he thrusts, looking into your eyes, murmuring sweet words.

“More,” you murmur, sensing the growing orgasm. You want to chase it, to find your end with him.

Kyle smiles, and urges your legs wider.

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[dmitriene]

continuation to this work

cw: possible authority, threesome, gangbang, comfort part with tears.

you're doing your best for simon riley, your lieutenant, one and only man you offer your body and soul to so rawly, hold out in your shaking palms for him to do anything he pleases, and you wouldn't refuse, as obedient, sweet like a pup he raised all for himself, accepting everything he gives you, any word, command, caress or a harsh, possessive tug.

shaped for him, you learn to arch your back sharp and wait, in his quarters, on his dark sheets, naked and presenting, doesn't matter if simon comes in tired, angry or almost boneless, he indulges in your sweet body anytime he can, calloused fingers skimming down the fragile curvature of your spine, pressing, circling at the tender skin, knowing that you're already dripping down your quivering thighs.

simon invited john to your sacred relationship, letting him indulge in your tight, pliable hole, always messy, stretched out around your lieutenant's thick, engorged cock and dripping out frothy globs of cum, soaking in the rumbled sheets below your twitching body, price doesn't waits anymore before sinking in, filling you pleasantly, cock heavy and fat, nudging against your spongy spot and making you claw forward.

nuzzling against simon's muscular thigh, his cock leaking precum against the small pudge on his stomach, you whine out, voice already slurred, stuttering little calls to them both, as john's drawn out, deep ruts of hips jolt your body forward, folding your knees against your tummy by the force of his body, slotting over your back, making you slump and cry weakly in filling pleasure.

and if you accepted price, sure there shouldn't be any problem if simon will invite two more, johnny and kyle, you hear their names buzzing in your ears, clogged, unable to comprehend anything more than the heavy weight of john's flaccid cock on your drooling, wriggling tongue, he's spent already, pumped you full enough so his seed would dribble out, now contented to just smooth his rough palms over your warm, hollowed cheeks.

body fervent, you're already too overstimulated to proceed, your cunt twitching and leaking loads of cum, but when simon pats down the swell of your ass, thumb spreading at the fat, revealing your swelling hole, purring how obedient and pretty you are, you can't say no when he asks if boys can have a taste, eyes wide and excited, cerulean blues meeting the honeyed irises, so easy to make their cocks hard in their cargos, as they marvel at the sight of you.

no matter what, it's still simon in who's hands you end up, snuggled tight against his solid, heaving chest, little hairs that dust his skin are a soothing caress against your wet cheeks, heat dissipating from your skin slowly, you cried, when it's all got too much, their cocks, their hands, playful kisses bordering on aggressive and back, rugged, tanned skin turning into ebony, softened, and then repeating, johnny and kyle both different sides of each other, but able to act together as if synchronized.

simon didn't made you wait when you started crying, worried, eyes crinkled, furrowing alongside his brows at such emotional display, he wasn't interested if they got enough of you, batting an urgent, heavy hand and making them all take a step back, john already dressed and confused, arms crossed tight over his chest, murmuring something to the boys, nothing you can remember, before ending up tucked under clean, cottony sheets.

when you start to recognize your surroundings back again, twisting to the side a bit, the arm around you tightens, muscular, wretched with tattoos, simon, you think contentedly, and seems by the grumble he let out, vibrating away from his chest, you croaked his name out, as he brushed a soothing thumb over your tummy, cupping at the supple skin, making you mold back against his body, mind dissolving back into the deep slumber.

you can be your lieutenant's pup, but he's responsible for your well being and comfort, and should you show any signs of being uncomfortable, hurt, or worse, simon is overtaken with a primal need, to protect, to heal, and to soothe, hide you in his embrace from the overwhelming world around.

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