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#ghost + price is fucking delicious
captainfern · 1 month
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just an 18+ shitpost for the lols
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auspicioustidings · 24 days
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Ghost being absolutely fuming that they've been called in to do security on a Pride parade because for fuck sake he is SAS not a babysitter but it's all high security because of the political climate so there he is stationed in a sniper nest on top of one if the buildings.
He def gets angrier and angrier watching Soap working street level through his sniper rifle because he keeps interacting with the people going by. He keeps fucking FLIRTING with them. And he's flirting with MEN. It irritates him so much that when they get off shift he can't help but follow Soap to see where he goes.
Simon Riley very quickly comes to terms with his own sexuality when Johnny gets on his knees for him in a club bathroom that evening, grinning up at him after swallowing and telling him 'Happy Pride' <3
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yujivrs · 10 months
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* TALK DIRTY TO ME
drabbles. their dirty talking styles.
contains. konig, ghost, and price / praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification.
konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.
“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.
his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.
“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”
you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.
“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.
“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”
price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.
“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.
there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.
“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”
it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.
“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.
“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”
everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.
“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”
he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”
your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.
“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.
the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.
“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”
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whateveriwant · 6 months
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might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;
Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader
Price
Three words: full body massage
That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)
He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his
He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin
Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted
Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)
By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut
Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone
Ghost
We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in
…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is
Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)
You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work
He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home
He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name
I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses
Gaz
He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening
First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining
Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off
The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes
When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet
He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it
Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion
Soap
‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck
However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up
He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you
Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)
He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting
And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there
By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…
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moongreenlight · 9 months
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
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sky-is-the-limit · 11 months
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Okay about my Gaz post because it's mostly people who haven't played the games and are only in the fandom to hc CoD characters as uwu anime girlies (especially on tiktok) how are you gonna include some German mf who sounds like he belongs in JoJo Rabbit (I love König as much as the next person but some of his 'stans' are insufferable) in 141 edits/content and not fucking Kyle who's literally part of the 141. It's a bit weird when you include Price,Ghost, Soap and then boom König, like WHERE did that mf even come from😭 Anyway stan my delicious beautiful sergeant bc he solos.
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cordeliawhohung · 5 months
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Leftovers [1/3]
Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series |
part 2 | part 3
warnings: unhealthy thrupple relationship, hurt/some comfort, slight dub-con, possessive Simon, smut, (f!recieving oral, fingering, p in v) 6.5k wc
Mr. and Mrs. Price don't know how to take care of you properly. Simon is hellbent on saving you, no matter the means.
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The first and only rule that came with living with the Prices was that no matter how much you thought otherwise, they didn’t really love you.
It didn’t matter how sweetly Mrs. Price kissed your forehead, her lips would never grace yours, and despite how deliciously Mr. Price would pump his fingers into your cunt he would never bless you with the opportunity to take his cock. Above all else, they first belonged to one another before ever belonging to you. All you were good for was being their sweet little pet, nothing but a catalyst for their pleasure; their favorite aphrodisiac. 
There were worse things in the world to be, and being a pet wasn’t all that bad. The Prices kept a roof over your head and gave you meals at least three times a day, if not more. Every now and then while Mr. Price was away at work, you and Mrs. Price would fall asleep on the couch together. Hours later you would wake up with your head on her chest, but you wouldn’t dare to stir her awake because the sound of her heart beating was more captivating than anything that droned on the television. 
But she would always wake up when Mr. Price came home, and she’d drag you off to the bedroom where they’d strip you bare like some spectacle. Mrs. Price’s lips would devour every inch of your skin, kissing your neck, chest, and breasts; kissing everything except for you. Meanwhile, Mr. Price would fuck his fingers into you and growl every time his wife giggled at your moans. His cock would harden in his pants, a sight that you would never be able to see, and just as you came undone on his fingers his lips would always find their way to her instead of you. 
They would laugh and giggle as you squirmed underneath them and coo about how adorable you were. How soft and pliant you were for them, such a good and well behaved pet. They would kiss your body a few more times before tucking you in for the night and leaving you alone to do their own lovemaking elsewhere. That’s how it always ended. Always the lover, never the loved, but that was okay. At least you weren’t alone. 
Things started changing when Mr. Riley showed up. 
He showed up at the house one day by invitation from Mr. Price and nearly scared you half to death. Like a ghost, he seemingly appeared in the living room one evening and took up all the space on the loveseat. Perhaps that’s what had intimidated you at first, just the sheer size of him. He stood taller than Mr. Price did, and the bulging muscles of his body was proof he could rip you in half if he so pleased. Then there were the faded scars on his face, the ruggedness of his features and the piercing expression in his dark brown eyes. He looked at you like you were a meal ready to be eaten. Or, maybe you just wished that he would. 
Mr. Riley was a quiet man, you learned. He hardly spoke throughout dinner and when he did he was rather short and blunt with his responses. Though he was a man of few words, everything he said seemed to have some sort of meaning. There was something about his voice that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and you nearly choked on your food at the sensation. It wasn’t at all unpleasant, and if anything the deep timbre of his voice was rather soothing, and you liked the teasing nature of his banter with Mr. Price. Perhaps you enjoyed it too much. 
There must have been something about the way you looked at Mr. Riley that caught attention. Truly, you meant no harm by it. Art littered his arms in the form of dark tattoos that you couldn't pull your eyes from because you had never seen ink cover the skin of someone so beautifully before. Never seen anyone quite capture the well formed muscle and veins like had been done on Mr. Riley’s arms. And really, the scars on his face and his crooked nose intrigued you. There were stories waiting to be uncovered, literature that hid behind the depths of his eyes. You just wanted to read it. That was all it was, you swore it. 
After plates had been cleaned and the table was cleared away, you learned you were not as subtle as you thought you were with your minor infatuation with your guest. Not even your intense stare at the TV screen as you pretended to pay attention to the movie Mrs. Price had picked out was able to throw suspicion off of you. Just as you had gotten settled on the sectional next to Mr. Price, you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, quickly followed by a hot breath on your ear. 
“Pet,” Mr. Price whispered, “my friend looks lonely over there. Why don’t you keep him company?” 
His proposition made you tense against his side and he chuckled at your failed attempt at keeping cool. Keep Mr. Riley company? Once more your eyes found their way to him and you felt your throat tighten at the thought. Were you supposed to sit by him? Entertain him? No, that felt wrong. You belonged to the Prices, not their friend. Then again, you were instructed to keep the man company, and good pets do as they’re told. 
Without so much as a word you rose from your spot on the sectional and quickly made your way to the loveseat Mr. Riley had settled himself on. It was difficult not to fall into the gravity of him when you sat next to him as his weight shifted the cushions, giving you no choice but to all but lean into him. You heard his quiet hum in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to just so blatantly sit next to him. You caught him look at you for a short moment, but you kept your eyes glued to the TV as if he was never there to begin with, and eventually he looked away. 
Embarrassment. It was the only word you could think of to describe how you felt sitting next to that man. Conversing with others wasn’t exactly your forte, it’s why you agreed to throw your old life away when Mrs. Price invited you into a relationship with her and her husband. They would take care of you, and you wouldn’t have to be perceived and go out and about in the world. They knew full well of that; perhaps that was their way of having some fun with you. 
Things were fine until halfway through the movie when Mr. Riley put his arm around you. There was nothing you could do but fall against his side as his firm hand settled against your waist. He held you close to him as if he had no intention of letting you go, and yet acted as if he had never done so in the first place as his attention stayed fully trained on whatever boring movie droned in the background. Blood gushed in your ears and panic settled into your chest. Surely that had broken some sort of rule, and yet when you glanced over to the Price’s with wide eyes, you realized that they couldn’t even care less. 
So you took a deep breath in some attempt to calm yourself, and once the blood settled in your veins, you realized that you could hear Mr. Riley’s heart. Each beat was strong and steady as if it had never wavered throughout its entire existence, and its reverberations were so strong you could feel it pulse throughout your own body. You took another deep breath, this time more content, and realized you rather liked the smell of him too. Some sort of dark, soft aroma mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes. It was comforting, perhaps the most calm you had felt in a long while. 
“Cute, isn’t she?” 
It wasn’t until Mrs. Price spoke that you realized you had fallen asleep like that, tucked into the side of a man you hardly knew. Cold hands pulled you away from the warmth that was Mr. Riley, and half awake you were brought to your room without the chance to glance at him from over your shoulder. Despite it all, Mrs. Price cooed at you while she laid you down in your bed and tugged the blankets over your body with a simple kiss to your forehead. 
“Goodnight, pet,” she cooed before closing the door behind her. 
That night you fell asleep alone in your cold bed while dreaming about the warmth Mr. Riley had given you. It was something you could only ever pray for when craving something from the Prices, and yet he had given it to you so willingly, as if you didn’t deserve anything less. Maybe it was unfair of you to compare the people who had given you so much to a man who you hardly knew. Friendly. That’s all he was. But it didn’t end there. Every time Mr. Price invited him over, he always directed you to Mr. Riley’s side eventually, talking about how lonely he looked, or that you should be a good host to him. 
Soon enough it got to the point where you didn’t even need prompting; you already knew your place was next to Mr. Riley. Curled against his side, hanging off his arm, even sitting on his lap, in one instance. Each touch that he gave you seared across your skin, but it was always respectful, nearly too respectful. Fingertips always gliding along your waist but never dipping low enough to caress your hips or grope your ass, nor high enough to brush against the underside of your breasts. His touch always left you craving more, and yet that was something he didn’t seem to intend on giving you.
He did, however, give you a new name. Sweetheart, he called you. It was something he whispered to you at first from the safety of the confines of his arms, as if he worried Mr. Price would overhear him and reprimand him for it. Then he became a bit more brave. He called you sweetheart when he asked you to pass him the salt at dinner, and then again when you eventually fell asleep on the couch and he offered to carry you to your room. Some strange part of you wished he stayed with you that night, but you knew that thought alone made you a bad pet, wanting anyone other than the people you belonged to. 
But the thing was, the more warmth Mr. Riley showed you, the colder the Price's home felt, because even after all that time, it wasn’t really your home. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” 
Loud music and even louder people caged you into that VIP room, suffocating you to the point you nearly passed out. It didn’t help that Mrs. Price had dressed you up like her personal doll, slathering makeup on your face and throwing you in a skimpy dress, you hardly recognized yourself in the mirror. And still, despite it, Mr. Riley had found you and settled on the spot next to you in the conversation pit. 
“Mr. Riley,” you greeted as you uncomfortably pulled at the skirt of your dress. 
“Mrs. Price dress you up in that?” he asked.
You half expected him to wrap his arm around you like he did every other time the two of you were close to one another, but he didn’t. Perhaps there were too many prying eyes nearby and he didn’t want to spark any rumors. Either way, his presence alone was comforting enough. You always hated going to Mr. Price’s club, and that night was no exception. Too loud, too many eyes, you were always out of place. 
“Was it that obvious?” you asked with a half-hearted chuckle. 
“Just doesn’t seem like you,” he responded gruffly. 
Of course not. Extravagant things weren’t meant for a pet. “Yeah. Probably not.” 
Even from a distance you could still make out the faint scent of him. That warm musk mixed with tobacco had started to smell like home. And it was wrong, you were sure of it by that point. At what point did Mr. Riley become more comforting than the man and woman you lived with? But at that moment, with so many people crowding you, you didn’t care. Closing your eyes, you blocked out everything else around you except for him. There was no music, no mingling guests, no rancid scent of alcohol; it was just you and him. 
Until the sudden sound of clapping brought you back to reality, anyway. Your eyes shot open and you were met with the same view as before, just more still. A quick glance around revealed everyone staring at Mr. and Mrs. Price, who stood at the front of the room, all cooing and cheering and clapping for them. They held one another as a few people rushed up to talk to them, where you heard squealing and several pats on the back. Confused, you turned to Simon with your head tilted to the side like a curious dog. 
“What happened?” you asked. 
With a simple nod of his head, Mr. Riley gestured up to the couple at the front of the room. “They just announced Mrs. Price’s pregnancy,” he said. 
Those words left his mouth so simply. So nonchalantly. As if you should have known. 
You should have known. But you didn’t. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, they didn’t really love you. 
You’d forgotten the first and only rule.
You didn’t know how you ended up on the terrace, you just stopped running when the cold night air hit your skin. Despite the way your tears muddled your vision, everything became painfully clear. This was their plan all along. To get pregnant, to start their life and continue it without you. It’s why they never kissed you, only ever played with you, refused to fuck each other in your presence; you were always meant to be disposable. Why continue to take care of a pet with a child on the way? 
And it hurt because you knew you’d never have that. Never obtain that unconditional love, a kiss on the lips, a cock in your cunt, a child in your arms, because you had been the Price’s plaything. Their pet who never dared to bare her teeth. You’d never be the sweet little wife, only some poor, skittish animal that only knew how to play. But you craved it so bad you swore you’d die. You wanted to be someone’s wife, someone’s lover, to be loved, to have kids and a home that wasn’t cold as ice. 
That life just wasn’t for you.
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
Somehow, Mr. Riley always seemed to find you. It was as if some invisible string had been tied between the two of you, and no matter how knotted it got he would always make his way back to you. Unsure if you should welcome his presence or not, you kept your hands firmly on the terrace railing and your red eyes focused out on the city in front of you. Your tears blurred the sparkling lights so much that you could nearly confuse them with stars if you squinted hard enough, yet that realization did nothing to quell the anxiety and terror that ate away at your stomach. 
“I’m alright,” you pitifully assured, although you weren’t too convincing. 
Mr. Riley’s hand touched the exposed skin of your back where his thumb started to rub small circles into your flesh. You nearly crumbled at the contact as you were drowned in the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at him, to beg to be loved even if only for a short while. Instead, your grip on the railing only tightened as you focused all your energy into not letting another tear fall. 
“John told me to watch you for the night. Take you back to my place,” he said softly. 
His words weren’t surprising. Sending you off to spend the night with him was just the next step to getting rid of you. Why would they want you in the home when they’d have someone new to prepare for? You were certain your room would be turned into a nursery before long. After a moment, you turned to face him and you did your best to muster your strongest of smiles as you ignored the stinging behind your eyes. He looked at you with such pity that you nearly broke into tears once more. 
“Lead the way.”
It had been so long since you had visited someone that you forgot what it was like to walk into a room and not have every inch of it memorized. Mr. Riley’s apartment was something you didn’t recognize, yet it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. In a vague sort of way, it smelled like him, and that was enough to calm your nerves and silence the pain that festered in your stomach. It was rather plain as far as decorations went, but it was cozy and warmer than anyplace else you had been for quite some time, and that was more than enough for you. 
First order of business was getting you a glass of water, something Mr. Riley took care of right away. Such a small gesture, and yet it had your heart swelling in an odd and unfamiliar way. Still, you were thankful for something to soothe your sore throat, and the two of you sat in silence on the couch as he ensured that you drank every last drop. 
“Do you wanna change into somethin’ more comfortable?” he questioned when you handed him your empty glass. 
“I don’t… have a change of clothes,” you said meekly. 
“You can wear some of mine,” he insisted.
Something within you wanted to decline. Wearing his clothes certainly broke some sort of rule, and you doubted that the Prices would be happy with you for it. But then there was a pang of sorrow that echoed throughout your chest, a painful reminder that you no longer belonged to them, and probably hadn’t for quite some time. 
Like a lost dog, you followed behind Mr. Riley until you reached his bedroom. His bed was bigger than you had anticipated it to be, significantly bigger than yours, and it was well made. A dark duvet covered the expanse of the mattress, and when you sat on the edge of it you sunk into it as if it welcomed you home. Maybe if you laid back on it you could fall asleep and never have to face the painful truth of the reality you found yourself trapped in. 
It didn’t take him long to fish out a simple shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts for you to change into, but when Mr. Riley turned to face you, it was as if he had turned to stone. Maybe it was the tear-smudged makeup stains on your face, or the fact that he hadn’t seen you look so content until you sat there on his bed, but he looked at you with such intense pity your chest ached. Eventually he got his body to listen to him and he carefully approached you and set the clothes on the mattress next to you. 
“I’m sorry,” he said unprompted. 
“For what?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together. 
“That they abandoned you.” 
Hearing it outloud was more excruciating than the initial realization. Abandoned. Tossed aside. Just a spare. Your chest ached so fiercely it felt as if your body split in two, and there was nothing you could do to stop the tears and sobs from flowing forth. It was pitiful and pathetic, and you hated how terribly small you felt. There were so many tears inside of you that you could wipe the earth clean with them, yet as you cried you didn’t feel any less dirty or used. 
Then the bed sunk down next to you, and instead of sitting on the mattress you had been scooped up into Mr. Riley’s arms and into his lap. His arms were the only thing that held you together in that moment, and he carefully tucked you underneath his chin and squeezed all the sorrow from your body. A cautious kiss pressed into the top of your head, slow and wary as if the very act itself was forbidden. When you didn’t protest, he kissed again, and then again, as if he couldn’t get enough. It was the closest thing to being loved you ever felt, and that realization only broke you further. 
“I just… I just wanted what they have,” you admitted once your sobs had dwindled to small hiccups. “I always thought that they’d let me be a part of it eventually. But I’ve been waiting so long and then… then they get pregnant without telling me and I realized I’ll never be good enough. Never enough to be kissed, or held, or loved. That’s all I wanted.” 
After placing one final kiss against the top of your head, Mr. Riley carefully moved your face away from his chest to tilt your head up to force you to look at him. Irritated from crying, your eyes were a bright pink shade, and so terribly swollen you had difficulty opening them fully. Still, his thumb smoothed over your mascara-stained cheek and you felt his grip grow tighter around you. 
“You deserve so much more than what they did to you,” he whispered, his whisky scented breath fanned across your face. “They were selfish, yeah? Dunno how they could be. First time I laid eyes on you I wanted you. Wanted to love you, to prove that you’re worthy of it.”
A few more fat tears rolled down your cheeks at his words just for him to quickly wipe them away. You had never received such kind and comforting words from anyone before, least of all the Prices. But his words held meaning, you knew they did. How could he look at you so softly and lie? No, it was impossible. His words were true and you could feel your want grow in the dark cavern of your stomach. 
“Mr. Riley…” you said at a loss for anything to say.
“Simon,” he corrected. “Say my name and I’m all yours, sweetheart. I’ll give you that love, that life, you deserve.” 
Maybe it was wrong to want him as badly as you did. Something dark and primal inside of you craved him and every inch of his tattooed skin, and yet you felt shame for feeling so. But why? You had been abandoned. A bit of comfort was the least bit you deserved. 
“Simon,” you whispered.
His lips crashed into yours not even a second later, and the feeling nearly had you sobbing into his mouth. It felt so pure, so overwhelming. Finally, you could taste someone. Taste the spice of whiskey and the smoke of cigarettes rather than just the salt from your tears. By instinct your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled yourself closer to him as if you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were nestled in the warmth of his chest inside of his ribcage. 
Eventually, your bodies collided with the mattress and you found yourself caged in by Simon’s arms as he hovered over you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you felt him groan into you like he had never had such a tasty meal. Then his lips began to wander, and he kissed along your jawline, neck, and further down to your stomach. It was the first time someone kissed your body and it felt like you were being given something rather than having something taken away. 
“So gorgeous,” he whispered against your stomach. His hands dipped underneath the short skirt of your dress and pushed it up over your hips, exposing your panties. You let out a shaky breath as he kissed your clit through your underwear, and you realized you had never had someone’s mouth on you like that before. “Wanna taste you, sweetheart. Tell me I can.” 
It was strange to have someone ask permission before doing something with you, and you felt your throat grow dry at the thought. Strange emotions swirled like a storm in your head where sorrow mixed with desire among other terrible conflicting emotions, and all you could muster was a simple nod. You just wanted it all to stop, for him to take away the pain no matter the cost. 
“Need you to use your words,” Simon mumbled against your heat. 
“Yes!” you spoke. The word erupted out of you with little regard for any of those confusing feelings muddling your mind. “Please…”
With a swift yank Simon pulled your panties past the swell of your hips and you raised your legs into the air to let him pull them fully off of you. After tossing them somewhere behind him, he lowered himself onto the mattress and kissed your cunt once more, this time fully bare, which sent a jolt throughout your body. He hardly gave himself the time to admire your body before his tongue began to greedily swipe along your clit. It felt so foreign and unfamiliar yet so intense you found your legs instinctively squeezing shut. Simon only chuckled against you as he pressed his hands on the inside of your thighs to keep himself from suffocating too soon. 
There was nothing you could do to stop the way your back arched off the bed in pure bliss. Already he had given you more pleasure in a few moments than you had received in your entire relationship with the Prices, and you bit into your lip as you mumbled out sweet nothings into the heavy air above you. Once you had grown wet enough with his spit and your own arousal, Simon carefully slipped a finger into your heat and you gasped at the sensation. You had never felt so full before and your muscles pulsed around him in greedy response. Despite all the pain and heartache you experienced that night, nothing could drown out the overwhelming mantra of more that reverberated throughout your entire body. 
When Simon pulled away from you, your first instinct was to sit up and pull him back to you, but you paused when you saw the way he looked at you. Dark, heavy eyes pierced through you, and you watched in awe as he sat back and slid his shirt off his body in one swift motion. He was so big. Hardened muscle covered with a thick layer of skin and healthy layer of fat, he collapsed on top of you where his lips were on yours once more. His taste was different this time. It wasn’t just whiskey and cigarettes. There was this earthy sapor mixed with it, and it took you a moment to realize that you tasted yourself on his lips. 
Then something ripped. Threads of cloth tore a part, and you realized you could no longer feel the dress around your body anymore. Whatever clothing you had worn had been replaced by Simon’s chest pressing against yours, and the skin to skin contact made your head spin. 
“Don’t need that anymore,” Simon mumbled against your lips. “Don’t need anythin’ of theirs anymore, yeah?” 
You nodded in agreement until you remembered what he said earlier about using your words. “Yeah,” you breathed. 
His lips descended down to the soft tissue of your neck while he started to grind his hips against yours. The rough fabric of his jeans were all too stimulating against your needy and swollen clit, and you whined into Simon’s neck as you writhed underneath him. 
“Do you want more?” he asked as he continued to grind his hardening bulge against your sex. “I’ll give you anythin’. Just gotta ask for it.” 
“You,” you blurted out without so much as a second thought. “Please Simon, I need you.”
There was no more time to waste. With one hand, Simon reached down and unzipped his pants where he released his painfully hardened cock. You felt as he teasingly ran his leaky tip along your slit, smearing precum against you until he carefully dipped down into your hole. Hardly even an inch inside of you and you realized he was significantly girthier than his fingers were, and you found your head falling back against the mattress with a moan at the stretch of him. 
“So goddamn perfect,” Simon grunted as he continued to push deeper and deeper into you. “Gonna give you the whole world. Anythin’ you want. Deserve so much more than them, fuckin’ christ, sweetheart.” 
More tears poured down your face by the time he bottomed out. It was all just too much, so much anguish and love melding into one confusing feeling in your mind. Yet Simon kissed away every single tear as he began to carefully thrust into you. Each time he moved in you an all consuming wave of pleasure rippled through your body, forcing moans to mix in with your cries in some sort of lamentable symphony. 
“I know, I know,” Simon cooed as he placed a fat kiss against your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah? My girl. Gonna treat you properly. I’ve got you, love.” 
Through it all, he was so soft with you, so warm, and you felt that heat begin to pool in your stomach. Every thrust into you marked you, it scratched away the essence of everything the Prices had done to you, what they didn’t do to you. Every empty space that had collected dust inside of you was filled by Simon and the searing passion he pumped into you. That was all you had ever wanted. To be seen, to be touched, to be loved. You had finally found it. 
When you came, you did so with a sob. Muscles seized and you wrapped your arms so tightly around Simon’s neck he had no choice but to collapse against your chest as he continued to thrust into you. Your tears soaked into his hair as you sloppily kissed the top of his head, body still craving more of him despite the endorphins that ravaged your body. 
“There she is,” Simon sighed, his voice a low rumble. “Doin’ alright, sweetheart?”
“Please,” you begged. “I need it. Need you to come, please Simon.” 
Your plea sent him toppling over the edge and he slammed his hips against you one final time before he held himself there with a thick and strained groan. His cock twitching inside you was an unfamiliar feeling and yet you relished the way he filled you, warm cum soothing an ache only he could tame. Your grip around his neck loosened as you felt yourself melt into the duvet. All that pleasure, that love, finally got your mind to fall quiet. 
Once Simon managed to catch his breath, he gently pulled out of you before falling next to you. Strong arms maneuvered you onto your side where he pulled you against his chest where he held you firmly against him. As usual, his heart pounded strong and steady in his chest, and the longer the two of you laid there the more calm it grew. Whatever tears you needed to cry had all fallen, and there was nothing but pure bliss that settled over you as you nuzzled against his body. 
“I love you,” Simon said. He said it softly, as if it was a secret. Something special that only you could know. 
You couldn’t remember the last time someone whispered that phrase to you. 
“I love you, too.” 
That night was the first night in years that you didn’t fall asleep alone, and when you woke up you realized it wasn’t a dream. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around you throughout the night, and you woke to the scent of his musk and you couldn’t help but smile. Really smile. It was real and you were there and you were loved. You buried your face further into his chest and he reacted in kind by pulling you closer. 
“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he hummed. 
Humming back, you stretched your limbs with a groan that left him chuckling and he placed a quick kiss on your forehead. He sat up in bed and pulled away from you, which left you whining, until he reached down towards the foot of the bed to grab the clothes you weren’t able to change into the previous night. 
“What do you want for breakfast?” he questioned as he handed you his shirt. 
Such a simple question, really, and yet it felt so much more important than that. This was the conversation lovers had in the morning. Contemplating, you took the clothes from him and set them beside you as you tilted your head and shrugged. “Whatever you feel like making.” 
A small smile pulled at his lips, crooked and scarred, as he glanced toward the bedroom door for a short moment before his attention returned to you. “Alright, I’ll go get started. Take your time, yeah?” 
Simon Riley made you feel like a princess and you held nothing in your heart for him but adoration as you watched him slip out of the room, still half naked. Just like he had said, you took your time getting ready, and even then it still wasn’t all that long. You fixed up your appearance as best as you could without a mirror before slipping his shirt over your head. It was long enough that it fell down to your mid thighs, and because of that you didn’t bother with the shorts, or your still slightly damp underwear from the night before, either. 
Sizzling bacon and freshly warmed toast greeted you by the time you meandered into the living room, and you smiled to yourself at the sight of Simon cooking in the kitchen. You drooled at the way the sinewy muscles in his back flexed as he worked, and you couldn’t fight away that odd arousal that bloomed between your legs. Deciding that it was a good idea to get some food in your system before attempting to initiate anything physically demanding, you instead sat yourself on the couch.
Your phone sat face down on the coffee table in front of you, and your stomach dropped at the sight of it. Something twisted in your gut at the thought of unlocking it and seeing no messages, at realizing just how little the Prices surely missed you. Yet, you needed to bite the bullet. How were you supposed to start your new life with Simon if you were still holding onto the ghosts of your past? 
With a shaky hand, you reached for the item and quickly turned it on. You prepared yourself for its mocking screen, for the heartbreak you knew you would be able to mend later, and yet it still wasn’t enough. Nothing could have readied you for the twenty missed phone calls and the countless texts from both Mr. and Mrs. Price. Begging to know where you were at. Asking if you were safe. Pleading with you to come home. Saying that if you hadn’t responded by noon they would call the cops in fear that the worst had happened to you. 
Your throat dried out and you couldn’t stop your lips from trembling. Why did they do that? Was it supposed to be some sort of sick joke? Proof that no matter how far away from them you got you could never escape the hold they had on you? No, you listened to the voicemails. Listened to the way Mrs. Price’s voice quivered when asking if you were alright, when she begged you to come home, and you nearly sobbed. 
Something was wrong.
“Simon?” you asked as you snuck into the kitchen behind him. 
“Yeah?” he asked as he turned around to face you. 
He froze the moment he saw your face. He could read the trepidation on your face as if it were the morning paper, and he quickly placed down his cooking utensils. You hated the way he looked at you with such care and yet with some sort of knowledge, as if he already predicted what you were about to ask him. 
“Did you lie to me last night? About Mr. Price asking you to take me home with you?” you asked.
“Yes.” 
His response came quick and without hesitation and that almost made things worse. You wished he had paused for a moment to think about the way that word would shatter you, and yet he didn’t. Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes and you found your face falling into your hands in disbelief. He lied to you. He fucking lied. 
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked as his hands brushed against your shoulders. 
“They’re going to be so mad at me,” you cried as you pressed your palms into your eyes. It had to be a cruel joke. You wished it was. They hadn’t given you up at all, and you were going to have to pay the price for betraying their trust. 
“Hey… hey, look at me,” Simon ordered as he pulled your hands from your face. The way his hands engulfed your wrists was almost laughable, and you didn’t bother to fight against him. “I thought we agreed that you’re mine now. You’re mine, and I’m yours, yeah?”
“But you lied,” you retorted. 
“They were neglectin’ you!” he corrected, and his voice boomed with such strength you nearly cowered. “Would you have followed me if I hadn’t said that to you last night? Or would you be stuck in that house with partners who wouldn’t even tell you that they were havin’ a damn kid? No, you’re mine now.” 
One of his hands dropped down between your legs, and you gasped as your back came in contact with the counter. He palmed at your naked cunt, felt the way his cum oozed out of you at the gentle pressure of his fingers and the sudden tensing of your muscles. 
“Do you really think they love you enough to take you back like this? With my cum inside of you and the taste of you still on my tongue?” he questioned. “I did what I did to save you. I was tired of seein’ them treat you like that. I’m not lettin’ that happen again.” 
Words failed you and all you could do was stare up at him and cry. It was all so wrong and yet something in the back of your mind screamed that he was right. He was right because in one night he had given you everything you had all but begged of them to do for you in all the years you had been together. Even if they still wanted you, maybe they really didn’t deserve you. But you would still have to face them eventually. Admit that you were running away, that you didn’t belong to them anymore, and that thought terrified you.
Giving up, you collapsed against him and allowed all your anguish to spew from your eyes. Just like the previous night, his hold on you was strong and caring, and he did so without hesitation. After all, you were his girl. He saved you, and he had no intention of letting you go. 
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bloodstainedhair · 6 months
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Holiday Season
pairing. obsessed 141 / polar bear-hybrid reader *scenario/headcanons
note. gender neutral reader. reader is physically described to be 6ft or over. common hybrid features such as animal ears, tail, nose, claws, and paw pads.
cw. unhealthy relationships/yandere themes, meat and blood mentions, a lot of eating from hands mentions, a weird type of infantilization, big bad bear is called cute a stupid amount of times, dangerous but passive reader, vague made-up base because i watch too many movies.
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Holed up in the middle of fucking nowhere, Alaska, the white wasteland. That's how the 141 were going to spend the merry month of December. Endless snow in sight and no family to be found. A complete and utter joke of a holiday season.
It scarcely matters, the food that's been stored, the dense furniture they've been given, even the solace they find in each other. It's miserable out here. The freeze is always licking at their skin, seeping through their layered clothes to cling to the exposed nape. It's their constant company.
Yet, something else bothers them. A hint that only their trained eyes could catch in their misery. An entity, perhaps, something that follows the men without rest. It's a shadow of winter, blanketing itself around the base and leaving its warmth with no trace to its next destination. Only something another human could pull off.
Dishes left strewn on the counter are returned to their cupboards, clean and scrubbed. Leftovers are consistently missing a bite more than what Soap remembers wolfing the night before. If a blanket or pillow goes missing, best bet it doesn't come back. It doesn't take much convincing for Price to round up his boys to find out the root of their question. Not when they've nothing else to do.
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It's Soap who finds you first. Rummaging through the fridge with a plastic container in your hands, that adorable black nose covered in spaghetti sauce. He wonders how they didn't hear you sooner with the way you carelessly scarf down the contents. You remind him a little of himself...
Little round ears perk up at the sound of his gasp. Soap freezes in place as your head cranes back to inspect him. Eyes staring at him with indifference, a lone noodle stuck to your cheek and tomato red staining your considerably large teeth. Sharp and big, enough to poke out from your mouth and dig into your chapped bottom lip. A similarly large grayish-blue tongue swipes out to clean the damning evidence.
So. Fucking. Cute.
Johnny is thanking the names of every God he knows when you let him lead you by hand to his team. A new warmth flows through his body, lighting up his dormant nerves in the winter night, your thick black claws prodding into his rough skin. You must be a docile ol' thing, obediently following him to his buddies, though only after he bribes you with more meals to come. He'll cook up the whole damn kitchen if it means you trail him like this daily.
Ghost is sure that Johnny's the one hiding furry ears and a tail when he rushes over like a dog with a fresh new bone. That, and he's more crazy than he imagined dragging over what looks to be a six foot something polar bear hybrid right his way. Ghost doesn't forget things easily, and he's confident that said bears are known to be the most eager predators in the presence of flesh. Not just by circumstance, no, by nature.
A strange thought does pop up in head. That fluffy white tail you sport catches his eye for longer than he'd like to admit. He wonders. If he offered up a nice, raw chunk of seal to you, would it wag in anticipation? Would your ears twitch at the sounds of his boots crunching in the snow, bringing you yet another delicious catch? He could be the perfect provider for you, he thinks. Maybe even have you hunt alongside him, a bonding ritual of sorts. Blood all over your mouth, allowing only Simon to dab away at your chin with a towel. What a sight to behold. Two predators in the same room.
Gaz takes a step away before doing the exact opposite a minute later. You're not just some wild animal, and he's half worried he just disrespected you to your face (you didn't see it). Any bit of nervousness he had melts away when you gently push your nose into his warm hands. He was going for a handshake, but this is surprisingly preferred. Seems he missed wiping some the cocoa from a recent pot of hot chocolate. He hadn't expected you to be so... soft. If you want more, he's got a heap of cookies hidden away in his room. No issue with you visiting him for a late night snack. Christ, he'll even handfeed you if you're feeling lazy, no worries.
Captain Price nearly drops the flimsy cup of coffee held in his gloved hands. Fucking giant thing you are. He nearly drops it again when your nose takes a sharp turn to the smell of his beverage. Not picky, are you... He'll keep note of that for later. From the looks of it, you're adapting well to the chaos of his batch, sniffing and patiently waiting for Soap to release you from his iron grip on your paw pad. He also takes note of what your wearing almost immediately, Arctic grade parka wrapped around your waist in favor of standard workwear, more akin to a jumpsuit than winter gear. Unbelievable. However, that does explain it now. You work here.
It makes sense, considering you're one of the more volatile hybrids. So many people, including your bosses, are uneasy about the predators. It must've been particularly bad for you. Hiding you away in a big and lonely base to eat dinner at an empty table. The world unable to appreciate you for what you are.
Price on the other hand, he knows his boys like the back of his hand. They understand your type. Would take you in without judgement or fear. Indulge you. Feed you fat red meat from calloused palms and let you lap at the warm blood still dripping on the snow. Gladly clean the droplets that stain your pure white parka. Make you warm.
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Note
Could I request giving the 141 guys road head pls
Had one this one sitting in my queue for a while and was debating on posting it. Hopefully, you guys enjoy!
Thanks as always for the requests!
Giving 141 Boys Road Head
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), swearing, utter trashy filth
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Simon Ghost Riley-
"I appreciate you coming to the party with me, I know I took you out of your comfort zone." You turned to Simon with a small smile.
"It's no problem." He returned the smile, reassuringly squeezing your hand before his eyes flickered back to the road in front of him. "Just'll have to thank me later for it, won't you?"
You felt heat rush to your lower regions at the teasing tone of his voice, knowing damn well what he was implying. "Or, I could always thank you now."
"That so?" He asked, as a small smirk formed on his lips. "I certainly wont say no to that."
You bit your lip as you unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the console. You tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth as you began unbuckle his pants slowly. "Help me out?"
He gave a breathy chuckle as he lifted his hips, allowing you to rid him of his garments. You gave a content sigh as your eyes landed on his impressive length.
You gave him another smile before lowering your head and running your tongue along the length of his cock, causing Simon's breath to hitch in his throat. You always enjoyed watching Simon come undone from your mouth, and decided to tease him a bit longer.
You continued to run your tongue along the base of his cock, before peppering small kisses as you made your way back up his length.
"'Nough teasin, either wrap those pretty lips around my cock, or go sit back down in your seat." He grunted.
You hummed before you slowly took him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sunk your mouth down on him. You moaned as the taste of him began to fill your mouth, and began to swirl your tongue alongside his shaft.
"Fucking hell, sweethart, just like that." He moaned as his free hand rested on your head, gently pushing your head further down the length of his cock.
You continued to swirl your tongue alongside his length as you feverishly sucked his cock, moaning out every so often as his grip on your hair tightened.
You could feel his stomach begin to tighten, his telltale sign that his orgasm was approaching, and you doubled down on your efforts to make him cum. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock, grabbing what you no longer could with your mouth, and began to pump gently in sync with the motions of your mouth.
It all began to be too much for Simon, the wet heat of your mouth, the delicious suction, the absolutely filthy way you played your tongue against him.
Simon gave out a euphoric moan as the coil in his belly snapped, causing him to spill out inside your mouth.
You pulled away with a "pop," a devilish smile making its way to your lips as he made eye contact with you. You started to pull up his boxers but his hand came out to grab yours firmly, preventing you from continuing.
Simon brought the car to a park in your driveway before grabbing at your hips roughly as he pulled you into his lap. You felt his hands wander to your own pants as he fumbled to pull them down.
"Si, the house is right there." You breathed out as you felt his fingers tease at your hole.
"Don't care, taking you right here, right now."
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John Price-
"You looked damn good tonight, sweetheart. Think even some of the guys at the bar agreed." John spoke after the two of you drove home in silence for a while from your local bar.
"Jealous much?" You teased, a small smirk making its way to your lips.
"Don't like anyone shooting their shot with what's mine." He spoke as his grip on your thigh tightened. "You certainly didn't mind the attention."
"I'm not even going to enlighten that with a response." You chuckled, playfully slapping your husband. "You know you're the only one I want, John."
"Why don't you show me then? Right now." He baited, his eyes flickering over to you. Even in the faint darkness of the car, you could see the lust in his eyes.
"As you wish, sir." You mock saluted before slowly unbuckling your seatbelt. John felt his blood rush to his cock at your nickname for him.
You slowly pulled down his boxers, licking your lips in anticipation as his cock sprung free. You fanned your breath across his newly exposed skin before lowering your head toward him ever so slightly.
"Be a good pet, go on." He encouraged, moving his hands up the wheel to give you more room.
You gave a low moan as you raked your eyes along his rock hard cock, his tip an angry red, leaking with precum. Looking up at him, you lowered your head slightly, sticking your tongue out to collect the arousal forming on his tip.
"Fuck." He groaned, his head falling back slightly as he struggled to keep his eyes on the road in front of him. You giggled slightly at his crumbling composure before wrapping your lips around his cock fully.
One of his hands left the steering wheel and rested on your head, grasping at the roots of your hair firmly as you sank your mouth down completely around his cock.
You began a slow pace, bobbing your head up and down his length as your eyes fluttered shut. You hollowed out your cheeks, tightening the grip your mouth had on his cock as you continued your steady pace.
"Take it all, baby, I know you can." He breathed out, pushing your head down to take more of him.
The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. The noises were unholy, but it only spurred you on more. You started to vigorously move your head up and down the length of his shaft, and each time your head bobbed down, the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.
John swore that your mouth felt better than any he'd ever been in before, and you never, not once failed to make him come undone inside of it. He began to groan softly, no longer holding back the sounds that begged to escape his lips.
You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth and you immediately went to swirl your tongue along his tip, collecting the leftover precum there.
With a few more strokes of your mouth, he was gone, gripping your hair firmly as he emptied into your mouth with a low groan.
Both his hands returned to the wheel as he pulled over into an abandoned parking lot before putting the car in park abruptly. "Get in the backseat, now."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"I'm telling you, love, I have a lot more self restraint than you think." Johnny spoke, turning his head to you with a cocky smile. "You think I'm just some big hornball that can't say no to sex, and that's just not true."
"Mmm, so if I were to say, lean across this console and give you the sloppiest head I've ever given you, you wouldn't want to fuck me?" You teased, as your hand wandered from his thigh to the outline of his cock through his pants.
"Nope, I'd stay strong." His voice cracked slightly, telling you that you were already going to win this bet.
"Alright, why don't we test this theory then?" You asked, reaching into his sweats to grasp at his hardening cock.
"You won't win this one." He said as your hands moved to the waistband of his pants.
Johnny lifted himself up slightly off the seat, allowing for you to pull off his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. You let out a soft groan as his now fully hard penis was exposed to you.
You moved over so your top half was hovering over his lap and made a show of sticking your ass up in the air. Johnny groaned slightly as he moved his hands to grasp roughly at your clothed cheeks.
"You're going to eat those words, MacTavish." You spoke, your tone seductive. You lowered your head down toward his cock, before letting a small wad of saliva pour from your lips. It landed on his cock, causing Johnny to inhale sharply, before you ran your hand along his length, spreading your salvia along his shaft.
You sank your mouth down around his now glistening length, causing his grip on the wheel to tighten. You didn't waste any time in setting a steady pace as your head began to bob up, your lips tightening around his cock with each movement of your head.
The sounds were obscene, and you certainly were unashamed as you slurped around his cock with each bobbing movement of your head.
You ran your tongue along his shaft slowly as your hand went to cradle his balls, massaging tantalizingly slow at the sensitive flesh there.
"Jesus." He breathed, his hands shaking slightly against the wheel as he desperately tried to maintain his focus on driving.
You groaned obscenely around his length as your mouth continued to ruin him with every hollowed motion of your cheeks.
You smiled to yourself as you felt him twitch in your mouth, signaling his oncoming orgasm. You knew you were close to being home, and you were beyond desperate for your boyfriend to fuck you senseless, so just as his orgasm was about to hit, you abruptly pulled your mouth off his cock with a sinister smile.
"Oh, you're the damn devil, aren't you." He said through gritted teeth as he struggled to regain his breath. "You're going to fucking pay for that, minx."
The minute he pulled into your driveway, he quickly put the car in park and got out, making his way to your side of the car. He opened your door, and grabbed at your waist, promptly throwing you over his shoulder.
"Thought you weren't gonna want to fuck me." You teased, giggling as he practically sprinted to the front door.
"Oh fuck that. 'M gonna fuck you senseless now." He said, landing a harsh smack to your ass.
Needless to say, Johnny didn't mind all that much about losing the bet.
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
You'd just gotten home from a week away with your friends. Kyle, being the adorably sweet boyfriend he was, insisted on picking you up from the airport once you'd arrived.
You were beyond needy for your boyfriend, and simply couldn't wait until the two of you arrived home. You looked over at him from the passenger seat and watched as he looked over at you with a sweet smile.
You slowly unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled over the center console toward Kyle's lap, resting your elbow on the armrest of the console.
"What do you think you're doing, love?" He asked, though he knew exactly what your intentions were.
"Nothing? Just getting comfortable." You teased as your fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jeans.
"Mmhmm." He sighed as your hand ghosted over his clothed cock. "Comfortable, huh?"
You reached into the confines of his boxers, pulling out his now rock hard cock. You heard Kyle gulp audibly as you began to pump your hand along his length.
Without warning, you sank your mouth down on him, causing him to hiss. Your hands flew to the base of his cock, grabbing what your mouth couldn't and began twisting firmly, keeping with the rhythm with your mouth.
Kyle could tell you were enjoying this almost as much as he was, from the loud moans that you let out around his cock with each movement.
Kyle struggled to keep his eyes on the road. Fortunately for him, this time of night, there were virtually no cars on the road leading to your shared home. The wet cavern of your mouth was a heavenly sensation for him, your hollowed cheeks and swirling movements of your tongue sending him closer and closer to his release.
His hips instinctively bucked, causing his tip to push into the back of your throat, and moaned loudly as you gagged around him. He let out a loud groan as he bucked his hips again, eliciting another gag from you. You knew Kyle was nearing his edge as you felt his muscles begin to tighten, so you started to move your mouth down fully on him each time your head sunk down, causing the tip of his cock to touch the back of your throat each time.
You dropped your head down fully, the tip of his cock touching your uvula as he cried out, his seed pouring out of his cock coating the back of your throat. You swallowed his load loudly, causing him to groan out.
"Shit, maybe you should go on trips more often if this'll be the outcome." He chuckled. "Just wait til we get home though, I'll give you a welcome of my own."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: thanks for reading! Lmk if there's anyone else you'd like to see, and I can write it.
Also, I didn't proofread this as in depth as I usually do, so apologies if there are mistakes!!
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ghouljams · 3 months
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Because of you I’m constantly thinking about cowboy!ghost and cowboy!konig’s thick waists. Hmmm I bet my papi price has one too. It makes me salivate. It haunts and follows me everywhere. Thank you for these divine depictions my deity 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️
(I’m such a slut for how plush these dirty men are) (Also sorry I keep letting these horny thoughts out in your asks..it’s a disease now I think)
God, yeah. You know Price is eating good, best fed man in Texas by his account, previously the best fed man in England and he had to WORK to keep from showing it, but now?? Oh he is enjoying the strong man physique, he's got that soft around the middle padding that just makes him looks stronger. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror and inspecting the layer of fat over his pecs, over what used to be abs, leaning closer to check the sprinkling of grey starting to make its way through his beard. Price thinks he looks pretty good. He doesn't miss the hard lines, feels like he's got more fuel in the tank to do the heavy lifting.
He especially likes settling you on his stomach, moving your hips back and forth, back and forth, grinding your pretty pussy against his happy trail, slicking the coarse dark hair with your wetness. He loves the way your fingers squeeze his pecs, the way you grip at his soft edges for purchase as he pleasures you. It feels an awfully masturbatory if he's being honest, making his pretty wife grind against his hairy stomach, watching your hips buck as your clit is teased by his curls, the rough hair dragging against your soft folds. Oh he can almost feel that sweet cunt clenching around nothing as he grinds your hips down against him. Price may say this is for you, but it's not, it's for him.
He just wants to watch you fall apart and know that he's the one who made that happen. He wants to hear your whimpers as you work up the courage to beg for his cock, or he wants to force you to come without it. Either way he gets a show, so why shouldn't he move you like a toy? That's what you are, isn't it? A toy? Brainless and shuddering with your eyes rolling back as he makes each little zap of pleasure roll through your clit and up your spine. He rocks you back, inches you grind by grind towards his cock until you're desperately trying to follow the motion of his hands, you pretty pussy drooling as it rubs against his fat cock. You try to lift your hips and he pulls them back down, shushing you. He knows baby, Daddy know you want him to fuck you, but he can't right now, you have to earn it. You can do that, right? Of course you can, smart girl.
You just have to let him keep doing what he was doing, bringing you to the edge of pleasure like a toy, building all that tight delicious heat in the pit of your stomach until you can't take it anymore and start to beg. And you will beg. Then he'll pull you back to his stomach, and make you come all over it. Come all over the body you helped build with all your wonderful cooking, and then he'll thank you properly. Just let him have his fun for now, and fall apart.
Good girl.
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frogchiro · 1 year
Text
HELLO LOVELIES!! due to popular demand I present to you this, a kinda 2 part to this baby. I wanted to thank you for the overwhelming love that little brain rot got so I'm writing something extra ^^ While this may not be a direct continuation it's set in the exact same universe and everything so you can read is as a stand alone another part of perverted nasty Ghost (and a guest!) or a continuation of other nasty shenanigans that Si would do to his little hacker girl :(
fem!reader, nsfw, nasty perv Ghost and a special guest, can be read as kinda dark? nothing hardcore it's just implied that Simon is terribly possessive bordering on obsessed and he has dark-ish tendencies so be careful!
That being said, nasty perv Ghost who's almost buzzing with barely repressed anger, almost snarling, teeth baring beneath his mask. He's standing on the sidelines of the mattress laid out on the gym floor as he watches Price go at you almost like a wild animal, grabbing and tossing you around like you're a rag doll, ultimately pinning you down to the floor with his massive body with your hand behind your back and laid out on your tummy, all tired out and panting with Price leaning down to your ear and growling something to you that made you let out a pathetic keen.
Simon didn't hear what the captain said to you but judging by your facial expression it must have been something suggestive; nasty and perverted and delivered in that deep growly rumble of Price's voice.
The blonde man knew that this whole 'compulsory hand to hand combat training' was a load of bullshit, it always was. It was organized a few times a year when the higher ups insisted and there was no way out. It was usually terribly boring, just a load of loud and sweaty men tumbling like beasts while screaming at each other and a few hot-shots who showed of like peacocks.
Except that this time there was a new addition to this mess, little old you. The new hacker of 141, the young lady who always dressed nicely, nails always manicured and smelling oh so deliciously with your perfumes. Since you're technically not a soldier Ghost thought that you'd be spared from the training but apparently he was very wrong and he hated it. He could see how flustered you were earlier, how small and soft you were in the presence of all these big hardened soldiers. He could see that you were nervous and he didn't exactly blame you therefore he decided that he would be the perfect match for you for training; it would be a win win situation!
He'd treat you as gently as he could so you wouldn't have bruises and aches from a rough treatment, and him on the other hand would have jerk off material for the next month. He could almost taste it, taste you. How he'd press you against him, how his big scarred hands would be able to run over your soft body all he wanted under the guise of training. How his big sweaty body would rub against you, his musk rubbing off on you and making you smell like him, like Ghost; a primal way of marking you. How he'd listen to all you little whines and mewls when he'd grab you too roughly and how you'd be able to feel his hard cock press against your ass as he mounted you from behind to press you into the exact position as you were now. Except it wasn't him who had you caged in his grip, it was fucking Price.
That fucker snatched you right from under his nose. Literally. Simon was just about to go up to you when suddenly Price appeared seemingly out of thin air and swooped it to basically tell you that you're gonna be his sparing partner, not even asking, he was stating a fact and since he was your captain you couldn't really say no right? :(
As John was leading you away from a growling Simon he could swear that the older man turned slightly to him and gave him a smug look that said 'better luck next time son, she's mine' and what made his teeth grit even more that he could perfectly hear these words in John's smooth growly drawl.
He's very well aware that Price has the hots for you, that dirty old pervert. He caught him looking at you more than once now, his gray blue eyes following you like a predator watching his prey, how whenever you stopped by his office to deliver some new intel or paperwork Price's voice suddenly dropped a few octaves into a deep, hot and enticing drawl that made you stutter and goosebumps appear on your skin. Also Simon heard Price going at it in his office, jerking off or doing god knows what and growling your name, or the occasional pair of your (stolen) panties peeking out from a drawer, the delicate pink material stained white with John's seed. His naturally possessive character getting amped up whenever you're with them on a mission or even in the same vicinity, any soldier who has the balls to talk or even flirt with you getting swiftly removed and ordered to run 30 laps around training grounds.
And now Ghost lost to that old perverted fuck and he will have to endure his smug commentary about how nice your soft body felt under him, how your delicious ass pressed against his cock and how you whimpered in confusion as you felt your captain grind against you and growl into your ear to 'be a good girl and get a feel of your captain, feel what will be breeding you later' and you couldn't help but whine and wiggle around a bit, you were so hot and so embarrassed, pinned under your captain with all those men watching you with heavy eyes :((
You soon stopped your wiggling and just laid there under the heavy man, his panting and growls rumbling against your back as you got a bit intoxicated on his heavy musky scent, pure masculinity and dominance oozing out of him and rubbing off on you.
You started to wonder if he'd truly keep his promise up and take you with him later, lock you in his bedroom and ravish you, breed you good with his babies :(
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rainybubbles · 10 months
Text
How do you meet COD men ?
Price, Soap, Rudy, Ghost, Gaz, Keegan
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )
P R I C E :
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-"I'm going to die," you say to your friend.
-"What ? Why would you die ?"
-"I sent a pregnant Shrek cake to a military base."
-"Why would you do that ?!"
-"This guy ordered a cake for his soldier's birthday, but I also had the order for a prank and...
-"You mixed up the two boxes."
-"Yes."
-"So, actually,....a soldier is opening his box and..."
-"And he will see a pregnant Shrek cake."
-"...It was good to know you when you were alive."
-"You're supposed to reassure me !"
-"Oh sorry. You will die fast, don't worry. It's their job"
-"Fuck you."
-"How was the guy who ordered ?"
-"Like he could crash my head between his arms"
-"Shit."
-"But he was handsome, I guess."
-"Guess your last view will be nice, at least."
-"Shit, how do I even excuse myself for that ? I can't go to the base and say "sorry I sent a Shrek cake, but it was a mistake can you let me in ?"
-"I guess you just say it," a man says.
-You gulp when you recognize the Captain who ordered you the cake.
-"Sir, I'm so sorry, I swear it's not on purpose, I just mixed two orders and..."
-"And you made my boys laugh after a rough mission."
-"oh."
-"So thanks. Of course, it was not what I planned for a birthday, but seeing them happy was nice."
-"You're..welcome, I guess ?"
-He smiles.
-"But don't ever do another pregnant Shrek when I order from you, next time, please."
-"Next time ?"you say surprised.
-"It was delicious, I don't plan to change a good baker," he smiles.
And that's how you gain a regular after offering a pregnant Shrek cake. (even though each time he sees green on your hand, he seems scared when he takes the box.)
S O A P :
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- He drew you like Gollum.
- I know, it sounds horrible, let me explain.
- You needed money, and you offered your services as a model for art classes.
- Soap was one of the students.
- During his leaves, he often took art classes to relax.
- And usually it goes well.
- But when he saw you....he thought he could never do justice to your face.
- He felt so self-conscious about his skills that he ended up doing a horrible portrait of you.
- And it could have ended up here, but the teacher decided to show everyone's pieces of art to analyze them
- So you saw Soap's piece where you looked like Gollum.
- And you knew it was from him.
- Everyone has a smile, while he was terrified.
- Usually, he's self-confident, but it's on the battlefield, in his life. The art was the only place where he was not sure he belonged too.
- At the end of the classes, he decided to talk to you.
- "I'm sorry for what happened today, I felt anxious and I ended up doing a bad portrait. It doesn't look like you at all."
- You looked up at him and smiled.
- "Why do you apologize? It was fun to see me like this, plus you need to start somewhere, no? You can't be a fucking Leonardo Da Vinci from the first day."
- He was too stunned to speak.
- "John or Johnny," he said.
- You looked at him confused.
- "Name's John, sorry, it seems you really blew my mind."
- You chuckled. "Nice to meet you, John. Hope next time your mind will be more confused for the next class."
- He nodded.
- Wait, did you say the next class? But it was nude models…
- Hope he won't draw a stick figure this time.
R U D Y
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- You were an author.
- Well, it was not your main job since you only sold four books this year, but you considered yourself an author.
- And you had a hater. Someone who left a hateful review on each of your books.
- You knew that the next day after publishing your book, he would leave a bad review.
- So when your boss at the library told you that someone was regularly buying your books, you knew it could only be this hater, since the other person who bought your books was your mom.
- And you had had a bad day. So when your boss told you he was there, you were about to confront this hater.
- Maybe to understand what he didn't like or to know if he was just a coward.
- So you strode towards the spot your boss pointed at.
- "Hey, you," you said, not sure what to add after. When the man raised his head, he looked fit, and you knew you couldn't stand a chance in a fight if he decided to fight.
- "Wait, are you the author Y/N?" Rudy asked, with a sparkle in his eyes.
- Wait... A sparkle?
- "Hm, yeah, it's me," you answered, not sure what was happening.
- "I love your work. Your last book was really amazing. I have followed you since your debut."
- Your mouth was open, because :
1. one, your mom had lied to you when she told you she had bought three copies of your book.
2. And second, you had your first fan in front of you.
- "Thanks," you almost said, tears of joy welling up. "Sorry if I sound harsh. I thought you were that hater."
- "Oh yeah, I saw those reviews on your page. He's always there, but don't worry, I'll leave positive reviews to balance it. I'm Rudy, by the way."
- "Nice to meet you, and thanks for loving my work."
- "No need to thank me. I just appreciate good books."
- "What's your favorite, if I may ask?"
- Rudy smiled, and you both started chatting about books that afternoon. Maybe your reviews would improve after this, not just because of your writing, but also because he found you stunning.
G H O S T :
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- Ghost scared people on the battlefield.
- However, the people who were most scared of him were the mechanics on the base.
- Ghost was a horrible driver, and everyone knew that.
- So, each time he went to the mechanics, they knew it was because he had done horrible damage to the cars.
- A game was organized whenever Ghost approached – you played rock, paper, scissors, and the loser had to fix his car.
- However, you were new to the base.
- When you saw this guy standing and waiting, you went to him without realizing all this.
- But when you saw his car, you understood why no one else was coming.
- He had a bowling ball in the trunk, the roof was broken, all the windows were shattered, and one tire was burnt.
- "...did you take this on the battlefield?" you asked.
- "No." He said shortly.
- You blinked. "Then why is it in this condition?"
- "There was a grandma on the road."
- "...so, because of a grandma, you have a bowling ball in your trunk?"
- "Because I swerved to avoid her and ended up hitting a bowling alley."
- "How did you even get a driver's license?"
- "The examiner was too sick to see me again for the ninth time, so he just gave it to me."
- "I guess I'll fix your car, but please don't drive if you don't need to, sir."
- "Sure."
- The next day, he was there again with a hole in the car because of a bird. How ? You didn't know.
-But it seemed you had become his official mechanic without even knowing it.
G A Z :
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- When he hears your voice in a café, he recognizes you.
- The problem is, he can't come to you.
- Because if he knows your voice, it's because of your streams.
- Your ASMR streams.
- Being a soldier means your sleep schedule isn't really regular, and to help himself sleep, Gaz discovered ASMR.
- He found out about your streams, then your Patreon, and... let's just say your ASMR is spicy.
- So yes, if he says he's a fan of yours, it implies he has to reveal he listens to that in front of his teammates.
- And he's not ashamed of it.
- But he doesn't want Price to know he likes spicy ASMR, just like he wouldn't want to know what Price's fantasies are, or what Ghost likes in bed.
- (He wants to forget Soap's idea about Ghost in pink lingerie and a thong, and the day Price wore latex pants.)
- It's a line he doesn't want to cross.
- But he's also your biggest fan.
- So he tries to walk near you.
- But you're with a friend.
- And he doesn't know if your friend knows about this.
- So he ends up just glancing at you.
- Shit, how does he approach someone who does +18 things, without saying he knows they do this?
- Maybe if he waves... or just says hello? Or maybe if he asks for a selfie or…
- "Are you trying to imitate Ghost?" Soap asks.
- "What? No. Why do you say that?!" Gaz says, looking away.
- "Because you're staring at this person like they killed your dad and ate your mom, then burned your house and kidnapped your dog."
- "...it was really detailed for a scenario," Gaz says, confused.
- "So?"
- "I just know them, but I don't want to disturb them." Gaz says, trying to lie and tell the truth at the same time.
- If Soap finds out the truth, he'll never hear the end of it.
- "Do you want me to call them?"
- "NO. Absolutely not, don't do this, mate."
- "Why not?"
- Because they'll think you listen to their spicy ASMR audios, he wants to say, but he remains quiet.
- God, he feels like a teenager.
- But suddenly, he sees you walking towards them.
- You sit next to them, and... you wink at him, pointing to his key ring on his bag.
- It's your merch.
- Meaning... you know he's a fan.
- "Thanks for supporting me," you whisper before returning to your friend.
- Gaz doesn't speak until he gets back to base, too embarrassed but also too happy.
K E E G A N :
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- You were tired.
- The rush had finally ended. It was now 11 PM, and there was this one client who had just ordered 10 Happy Meals.
- You wanted to slap him. He had ordered at 22:57, and the fast food closed at 23:00.
- So you didn't have a choice but to serve him.
- You looked at your colleague, who was sighing, and you nodded.
- You were preparing the trays, ready to see 10 kids running around and getting everything dirty, but…
- It was only one man with a mask.
- When you saw him, you were ready to raise your hands and give him money. Why the heck would a man with a gun and a mask be at a McDonald's at 23:00 buying 10 Happy Meals?
- But he just took them and ate.
- One after another.
- In silence.
- In five minutes.
- And then he left.
- You looked at your colleague.
- "Guess it's as weird as people who order a burger without buns," your colleague said.
- You nodded and thought it was just the one weird client of the day.
- But every Wednesday, he was there, in silence.
- Maybe he hated Ronald McDonald, so he planned to run out of your stock of Happy Meals?
- Or maybe he collected the toys?
- You didn't know, but he was there.
- And you saw him eating those nuggets and fries without sauce.
- He didn't touch his drinks. My, how dry it must be.
- But one Wednesday you took a day off. So when you came back the next day, you joked with your colleague about the Happy Meal guy.
- But they didn't laugh.
- "Who?" they asked.
- And just like that, you realized that when you weren't there, the Happy Meal guy wasn't there either.
- You were scared.
- Maybe he thought buying Happy Meals seduced you, or it was his way of warning you before he would kill you, like a threat, "You'll end up like those nuggets."
- So, when you saw him enter, you sent your colleague.
- However, your manager decided to give you your break at that moment, meaning it would be only you and him in the place.
- You tried to act normally, but you noticed how he seemed not to like his food yet still ate it.
- You sighed and sat next to him, offering him some sauces.
- "It's better with these. You know, you can have them for free in the menu next time."
- He looked at you and nodded.
- He then tried it and smiled.
- That's when you noticed his dog tags.
- "We have a discount for military personnel, so you could take a real meal instead of a Happy Meal if you want to."
- He looked surprised and nodded.
- Next time, he ordered 2 Happy Meals and two regular menus.
- So you smiled.
- Until his other masked colleagues ordered 20 Happy Meals because they liked the skull toys in them.
- Maybe it was just military men who had a problem with Happy Meals.
If you want more : my COD masterlist
And my masterlist
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blingblong55 · 4 days
Text
He likes the taste of what?-141
innocent!reader
R/N: my husband likes the taste of squirt
Gaz: excuse me??
Soap: *looks at Ghost*
R/N: and the funny thing is I didn't know they still made it *shows them the Squirt fizzy drink can*
Ghost: oh that one..yeah I like that one too
Price: I fucking hate you all, you ruined my lunch
R/N: I thought it had stopped being produced but I saw it the other day when I visited friends and I bought some for him
Gaz: you two are fucking weird
R/N: what, he said he liked it. He asked what squirt was and I told him to give it a try and he said that the squirt was delicious so I'm ordering some and I need to know who else here wants me to order some more squirts for them
Soap: *raises hand*
Gaz: not today you whore *lowers Soaps hand*
Price: I really should've taken that retirement deal
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rookiesbookies · 6 months
Note
141 with a physically affectionate reader who gets cuteness aggression and attacks their faces with kisses at the most random times
Did have to google some Scottish slang( is slang the right term?) for Soap so sorry if its trash or wrong.
Price
First time you saw him shirtless. Look that soft layer of fat over his muscles is enticing, I’d bite too.
His eyes went wide and he just looked at you. He looked like his eyes were gonna pop out of his face.
“Love, did you mean to bite me?”
“Your pec looked delicious and you’re just so cute I couldn’t help it!”
He’s horrified, also holding both his pecs like a lady who got caught with her bra off. He couldnt decide if he liked being called cute or not and he sure as hell couldn’t decide about if he enjoy you munching on his pec or not.
So you just decided to plant kisses all over his face.
Soap
I feel like you got cuteness aggression the first time you got him naked.
It was just supposed to be a nibble, you weren’t meaning to bite his ass cheek. It was just so cute, clenched up, and ready to be nibbled.
He shrieked, “are you a bloody bampot!”
“... no?”
“Get yer whee mouth on my fuckin boaby not my fuckin arse, ya clarty lass! Fuckin dafty, yer are.”
“Thank you?”
“I said I’d rather your mouth be on my dick and not my ass.”
“I’ll just smother you in kisses instead.”
Ghost
Lowkey you just get cuteness aggression every time you see him. Especially with his mask on. Planting kisses weren’t as easy and violence was chosen. So going in for a hug when he’s about to get in the shower the turns into you biting his meaty shoulder, earning a smack on the head.
“What’s fooking wrong with ya today?”
“You just look so cute.”
He pulled off mask, “look me in my face and say that again.”
You look at him taking a breath to keep a straight face, “you’re a cutie patootie.”
Gaz
“You know, you’re in the dictionary next to the word cute right?” You said, while sitting in his lap, planting aggressive kisses on his face and body.
“Really?”
“Yup.” You mumbled before pinching the inside of his thigh making him scream and smack your head lightly.
“NO. Bad!”
Yeah, cuteness aggression is something he wasn’t ready for. Have fun explaining it to him because he is already staring in disbelief.
Konig
He gets cuteness aggression with you, so getting it right back with the blonde hair that litters his chest. You were trying to pull on it gently to see how sensitive it is, making biscuits like a cat while kissing all over his face, it wasn’t actually the aggression.
You didn’t see him about to cry under his mask from how it hurt. Until he pulled back.
“My love please be gentler.”
“Huh?”
“Very sensitive.”
“Oh.”
Krueger
When he look his mask off for the first time, the cuteness aggression was overwhelming for you. You tried your best to just gently hold his face and plant kisses up and down it, but it was too much he was so cute it was overwhelming, you had to pinch his cheeks. He yelped and pulled your hands away from his face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“You’re too cute, I can't help it!”
“You’re cruel, fucking cruel.”
Keegan
“Hey, babes, can we chill out? You’ve been aggressively rubbing my back for half an hour.”
“Your tattoo is so cute I cant help it!”
He had gotten your favorite animal tattooed on his back. You were rubbing it while kissing the back of his neck vehemently.
“I just wanna,” and you pinched it and he pinched your calf, making you silently scream.
You smacked his back, “too hard! You pinched me so much harder than I pinched you!”
“Na-uh.” He said sassily.
“Ya-huh.”
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faith369 · 6 months
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ghost x sweet!reader. shes prices daughter and come to the base to visit her father with fresh baked goods for all his military friends too of course ! She catches his eye and might end up in his bed.
I really hope you like this and thank you sharing this cause its making me think unholy things
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader
Warning: mdni, nsfw, p in v, orale (fem receiving)
Ghost knew the Captain had a daughter, what he didn't expect was for you to be such a sweet girl, way too pretty for your own good. He watched you laugh at one of Soap's jokes, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the confined feeling in his pants. The sound of your laugh sent a shiver down his spine. He originally didn't mean to stay, as he wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation. But when he saw you in the break room motioning for him to come in with a sweet smile on your face, he couldn't resist, especially not after you shook his hand the polite girl you are, and he couldn't stop thinking about how soft they are and how they would feel around his cock. You had even managed to convince him to try one of the cupcakes you had baked, and as much as he liked them, they were the last thing on his mind. The dress you had on made your thighs more delicious than a cupcake could ever be. The Captain, who was the whole reason you came here, had left about 30 minutes ago after Laswell had called him about some meeting and because Simon knew how long these could last, he offered him to take you home, something that Price couldn't turn down.
Simon was more than aware that looking at his captain's daughter the way he did wasn't exactly okay, but he couldn‘t stop himself. And it wasn't like you didn't look at him just a tad bit too long for it to be appropriate, to your luck, however, Gaz and Soap were way too occupied with the backed goods to notice it. You found yourself unable to concentrate on the conversation, too busy thinking about your father's Lieutenant. His face was bare, no skull mask in sight. Something inside you made you want to reach out to feel the light stubble that grazed his cheek under your fingers. You were only able to shift your focus when Soap and Gaz started arguing about the last cupcake. Simon kept his eyes on you while you convinced them to share. You were so eager to make everyone happy, he started wondering whether you'd be such a good girl trying to please him.
..........................................................
Simon had a tight grip on your hips, keeping you still while he sucked your swollen clit. Your slick spread around his mouth, as he ate you out like a man starved. Your mewls only spurred him on, making him stick two of his thick digits into your aching cunny. "So wet just for me huh" he dragged his fingers along your walls, painfully slow but still hitting the spot inside you that made you feel dizzy, sweet pleasure just an inch away, but before you were able to grab it, Ghost had pulled out his fingers. You glared at him through half lidded eyes as he licked them clean. Your anger made him chuckle. “I know you wanted to cum, but I also  know that you're a good girl, so you've got to be patient for me”
You wanted to kick or scratch him, but you had a hard time getting your brain to do something other than watching him pull his length out of his boxers, its tip red glistening with precum. He ignored your whines about him being too big and just slipped his cock inside you, trying to keep himself from cumming on the spot at the heat of your tight walls. It felt like he was filling out every inch of you, leaving you no room to breathe as he settled inside you, his tip almost kissing your cervix, before starting to move at a pace that made you dig your nails in his back. "Fuck, we shouldn‘t be doing this.“ Ghost's hips were snapping against yours, the pace he had set turned any coherent thought that you had left into thin air. It didn‘t really matter anyway you had lost the ability to properly act the second simon pressed you against the door and kissed you when you just wanted to ask whether he was ready to bring you home. He was merciless in the way he fucked you, probably out of anger at himself for giving into the temptation of taking you. The growls that left his lips were animalistic, covering the whimpers and mewls that left yours, and still he told you to be quiet.  "Don't want your Dad to hear what you're doing, huh? Seducing his lieutenant to make him stuff you" his hand snaked its way between your hot bodies to play with your swollen almost abused clit. His movements were less controlled than before, he wouldn't admit it, but he was way to deep in pleasure to form a lot of thoughts himself. His skilled hands made your eyes roll back into your head. „Didn‘t sed… y..I“ It felt like he consumed every one of your senses, his big body over you blocking your view , his faint smell of cigarette smoke and sweat in your nose, his cock burried inside you. It was getting too much the knot that had started to form in your stomach a while ago felt constricted.
"Can't even talk anymore, huh?" You clenched down at his words, reaching your breaking point as the orgasm shook through your whole body. You arched your back, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped no one heard the way you moaned Simon's name like you were drowning, desperate for air. Simon couldn‘t keep himself from cumming at the way you constricted around him, grunting your name as he filled you up with his hot seed.
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-Requests are open loves <333
-masterlist-
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honestlyhiswife · 5 months
Text
i feel like one of the things you could do as TF141’s partner to truly scare them is start cooking or baking.
just pure fluff about the tf141 and reader who loves to bake below!!
With Gaz, he’s fucking terrified. Where in the hell did you learn how to chop with such precision?? WHY DO YOU STARE HIM DOWN WHEN YOU CHOP EGGPLANTS?? Nevertheless, whatever ingredient you ask to buy him, he’s buying it immediately (he doesn’t want to be a part of the next recipe). Nowadays, he hides away and just prepares the table and does the washing right as you’re done using the plate or cutlery.
Johnny on the other hand, he’s sending you recipes nonestop. The other day you mentioned wanting to try baking something sweet, next thing you know, your messages are just him sending you links of “Top 10 Chocolate Chip Cookie Variations For Beginners!”. Normally you’d love him for this, and you do! You coo at him for being so helpful, but, you also threaten to leave one of the cookies with small bolts inside if he sends another recipe that has “Beginner” in the title. You say that in a cute way of course!
Price, being the everloving man he is, loves spending time with you when you’re in the kitchen. What he doesn’t love, is when you turn into the Gordon Ramsay of confectionery. One time, he tried to hug you in the kitchen but what he didn’t see was that your meringue refused to form stiff peaks. Cue you turning around with haste, voice slowly raising as you try to “politely” shoo him out of the kitchen. He learnt that day to never peek in the kitchen again.
Ghost on the other hand, actually loves cooking. Initially you were surprised when he started cooking some delicious homemade meals that could rival a dish from Hell’s Kitchen. This leads to romantic date nights where you take care of the dessert and he takes care of the meals. However, one day he used up your flour to create batter for his chicken. The “date night” ended with the both of you sulking since you claimed that he sabotaged your meal so you sabotaged his by altering the proportions of the seasoning. He claimed you were trying to poison him. Afterwards though, you did make a pact to coordinate by leaving letters on the fridge, which left all the other date nights with a smooth success.
a/n: i love baking so much. but u know what pisses me off? when somebody exists in my space when baking. OR when they feel like they deserve what i baked and just fucking grab it. i have since stopped baking to manage my stress levels 🥳
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