#soap x honey

[ivymarquis]

Steel Magnolia

Ch 1| I don't mix business and pleasure

Pairing| Soap x Honey Rating| Eventual Smut Word Count| 1.4k Content/Warnings| The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent (I'm still dialing it in, RIP. If any of my readers are Scottish and wanna beta hmu lmao). Honey is one of those Reader/OC hybrid characters where it is established she is a southern American, plus sized nurse who is on the shorter side but has no other physical descriptors and should read as POC friendly (if I miss something, lemme know!) I have been wanting to write this for a hot minute and always was going to have the dialogue "I'm going to marry her", so seeing @glitterypirateduck have "I'm going to marry you" as one of the prompt options for Soap It Up pretty much solidified that I needed to have my first chapter for Steel Magnolia line up for the challenge!

This chapter is SFW but I am an MDNI account

Soap has an ever mounting suspicion that these blood drives are just an excuse to give the baby nurses more practice sticking people.

Like many in the military, he doesn’t consider himself a hard stick. All the time in the gym paired with a routine schedule on base, he and many other soldiers typically get nurses drooling over his veins like the weird little vampires that they are.

Lucky him- he’s got one of the FNGs, a skittish mess who seems terrified if he looks at her too long even though she’s the one with the damn 17g needle and he’s the one that’s got to sit there and take it.

A group of soldiers on the way out had been bitching and moaning about how the charge nurse was a raging cunt, and given how those soldiers were Americans, that has a bit more teeth to it than coming from someone more local. 

He’s not entirely positive which one of the nurses is the alleged fire breathing dragon, but it’s fairly obvious which are the more senior nurses. Which only further reinforces his suspicions about being used as a pin cushion.

Soap’s a model patient as she scrubs his arm with the antiseptic. Even though he’s had worse happen in the line of duty, he still isn’t a fan of having a needle shoved into his arm. 

He sits like a statue as she ties the tourniquet around his arm. Takes a sharp inhale and lets it out as she goes to stick him.

There’s no flashback, and the needle bites. 

Fucking great. 

He and the FNG both stare at the butterfly like the flashback will magically appear, Soap flexing his fingers in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort in his arm despite the logical part of his brain knowing that’s not how it works. 

What the hell. 

“‘S supposed to be stinging like that, nurse?” He asks, really as a prompt to make her do something to reposition the needle. He’s mindful of his tone. 

The FNG blanches, like his words have dragged her back to the world of the living. She pulls the needle back before advancing forward again.

Nothing, again, but the bite from the needle stings even worse this time and he doesn’t totally manage to stifle the pained hiss that escapes.

Her nerves seem totally shot at this point, like she’s bracing for Soap to snap at her before turning in search of one of the more experienced nurses (which, in his defense, Soap does not believe he’s done anything to warrant that response). “Honey? Can I borrow you for a second?”

The nurse in question turns her head at the sound of her name and suddenly Soap is not at all concerned about the sting in his arm.

He can’t help that he’s got a type and it’s impossible to miss how she checks all the boxes appearance wise. He’s always been a sucker for a pretty face and a wide ass; given that Honey had been facing away from them, he’s got an excellent view of both when she reacts to her name being called. What can he say? He’s always had a soft spot for big soft girls 

As she strides towards Soap and the FNG, he can tell by the look on her face that she’s already trying to judge the situation.

Maybe this is the nurse that got the American soldiers riled up (perhaps they had riled her up by snapping at the skittish FNG- all conjecture, but seems plausible enough to him). She’s more than welcome to give Soap that sharp eyed, cutting expression whenever. 

Christ he hasn’t even said a word to her and he’s already got it bad.

“What’s up?” Honey asks and Soap thinks he hears a southern drawl but the two words aren’t entirely enough to confirm that theory. Definitely American though. 

“His vein keeps rolling and I can’t get it. I don’t want to go fishing, can you get it?”

“Well I can always try,” she answers before reaching up for the station behind them for sanitizer and gloves. Definitely southern. 

“Scooch,” she kindly instructs the FNG before stepping into her place beside Soap.

He knows he’s staring (there’s also a part of him keyed in to the fact that Ghost is watching from the next chair over) and he needs to act like a normal fucking person. 

“I’m Honey, I’m one of the nurses. Let’s see if we can’t get this needle where it’s supposed to be, hm?” She introduces herself before feeling on his arm, the FNG hovering over her. 

“Sounds like a plan tae me, bonnie,” Soap says, deciding immediately that he could happily listen to her talk for hours. 

Her attention shifts to the FNG, and given how she’s got a hold of the wings of the needle he decides to let her work in peace. 

“See how I've got these fingers placed like this? You wanna make sure you’ve got it anchored good so it doesn’t roll on ya,” she instructs while positioning herself. 

“Then we’ll just pull back and adjust the angle real quick and-“ To her credit, he can barely feel the needle moving as she slides the bevel right where it's supposed to be, “there. Good flashback. Check it and hook him up.”

Clearly she managed to get the needle placed as his blood damn near shoots down the tubing when they let up on the twist to check it. 

“Alrighty then,” she pauses, eyes flicking to where his name is on the screen before reading it out, “Sergeant MacTavish, you are ready to roll.”

He decides immediately he likes hearing her say his name and wants to hear it again. 

“My friends call me Soap,” he informs her, sensing she’s likely going to wander off and wanting to continue the conversation.

The snort that escapes her is adorable. “How on earth did you end up with that as a nickname?”

It’s a question he often gets when he introduces himself. Soap is such a funny name and it’s all fun and games until he tells people “It’s cause Ah clean house.”

Of course, he’s learned to be very deliberate in how he announces that tidbit, and he’s mindful of it now. Gotta be careful when pointing out that he’s good at eliminating an obstacle. Usually giving his best smile and a disproportionately bright tone helps deflect from the implication of his answer. 

Her expression quickly morphs to one of fair enough, although he’s still not quite ready to end the conversation and prompts her to keep talking. 

“Assumin’ Honey’s not yer government name, how’d ye get that for a nickname?”

One of her eyebrows quirks up, and Soap finds himself holding his breath as she’s obviously assessing him. But he knows he’s a good looking fellow so naturally assumes she’s impressed with what she sees. 

“Depends who you ask,” she answers cryptically. “Some will tell you it’s because I'm so sweet when the mood strikes,” Steaming Jesus he really could listen to her drawl for hours “and others will tell you it’s short for honeybadger. Depends on how I’m feeling, really.”

Welp, that’s it. He’s officially in love.

The FNG has him hooked and going as his blood drains, although Soap’s attention remains solely on Honey. 

“What time does yer shift end?” He’s always dived head first for what he wants- and he is completely unashamed of how much he wants her despite not knowing she existed 15 minutes ago. 

In an instant the pleasant not-quite-flirty tone disappears as her face slips into a more neutral expression, and Soap can feel the rejection coming before she opens her mouth and he just wants to know why when she was fine bantering with him a moment ago. 

“Sorry soldier boy, I don’t mix business and pleasure.” She states simply before standing to leave. 

Well isn’t this a shit situation for him. Given he’s tethered by the needle in his arm, it’s not like he has much choice but to watch her leave (although- if he’s being completely honest it’s not like he’s really complaining about getting to watch those hips move as she walks).

It’s not even like he’s an admit, for fuck’s sake, but Soap also isn’t a feral animal who’s going to yell across the room to get a pretty girl’s attention. He’ll get an opportunity to make his case. 

“Oof, shut down,” Gaz ribs from one side, with Ghost incredulously chiming in with a “Whomp whomp,”  at how Honey had so firmly brushed him off. 

“Oh please. A’m going tae marry her.” Soap asserts wistfully. 

“I’m no expert in women, Johnny,” Ghost starts and Soap just knows he’s not going to like what comes next, “but I’m pretty sure you need to get her to agree to drinks first.”

“Fair enough, LT.”

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[femoso-seben]

Honey Badger Hybrid!

- Honey badger hybrid! Reader who's short and feisty

- Honey Badger Hybrid! Reader who picks a fight with Ghost just to eat his food in front of him

- Honey Badger Hybrid! Reader who can take a bullet and be fine because they got tuff skin

- Honey badger Hybrid! Reader that throw themselves into any fight for the fun of it. (it takes two people to make them stop as grabbing them by the scruff of their neck isn't good enough)

- Honey Badger Hybrid! Reader was once caught eating a giant bee nest (larvas) and taking stings like it was nothing

- Honey badger hybrid! Reader Who likes terrorizing the enemy by running in screaming

- Honey Badger Hybrid! Reader Who screams black sir force vibes they got into 141 by taking an entire militia (20 people) and coming out mostly unharmed

- Honey Badger Hybrid! Reader who eats once drank poisonous and passed out (look really fuclkng dead nearly hurried alive) only to wake up two hours later like nothing happened

- Honey Badger Hybrid! reader who doesn't value their own life and love life as of warring and fighting is everything

- Honey Badger Hybrid! reader who likes to chew on Ghost stuff to establish dominance (believes Ghost is the top dog because he's the biggest. Ghost is so done with them but it's kinda cute watching them destroy things)

- Honey Badger Hybrid! reader who gives Gaz a annurism by how they can first escape jail (the confinement they put them in for being bad) and how they can outsmart him (they are very cocky about it)

- Honey Badger Hybrid! reader who sucks up to Laswell for some tasty treats while simultaneously being a menace to 141

- Honey Badger Hybrid! reader who sleeps all day and has zoomies all night (Likes to Harrass Ghost because he's a light sleeper)

[omegapropaganda]

🎉1k Kudos🎉

Y'all! I cannot believe this! Burnt Honey has over a thousand kudos! To celebrate there's a sneak peak below the cut of some light smut from Chapter 10! (like always with the sneak peaks there is a chance of things changing as I finish the chapter since this is still very much a work in progress)

I cannot express enough how much I appreciate every single one of y'all and the response to this story 🥲 And I'm super thankful that y'all have been so patient while I focus on all my personal life things happening. I hope that within the next few weeks I'll be back home and fingers crossed have time to work on finishing this chapter ♡

“Seillean,” Soap’s voice was sweet and soft as he spoke into your ear. “Can Ah have a kiss?” 

It was a bit of a stretch to angle your head just right to catch Soap’s lips, but it was totally worth it. The kiss was a little rough, his chapped lips scraping slightly over your sensitive skin, but you didn’t mind. He tasted just as good as he smelled and you wondered why it had taken you so long to kiss the beta.

You let Soap dominate the kiss, content to simply exist in this space of want and acceptance created by your pack. You sent up a quick prayer of thanks to whatever power was in control of your life for putting you in the path of these two men.

Without them there’s no telling where you would be. You never would’ve been able to stand up to Graves without their support. The thought made your eyes sting with unshed tears and your omega was scratching at the surface wanting to take comfort in its pack. You let it out without a second thought.

In an instant it was met again by the alpha and the beta, joining together with playful joy.

Your neck was starting to ache at the odd angle you were holding to continue kissing Soap, and the novelty of Ghost’s lazy licks against your armpit had worn off. You wanted more, and you wanted it now.

You pushed at the top of Ghost’s head, trying to get him to move, but all you got was a warning growl from the alpha.

“Bad dog!” Soap growled back as he flicked a finger hard into the part of Ghost’s forehead that he could reach.

Ghost reared back as fast as lightning, his eyes still unfocused and dazed, drunk on the taste of you, before blinking it away. A deep blush covered his cheeks as he looked at you sheepishly from under his lashes. “Sorry, luv. Are ya okay?”

“Yeah, I was just starting to get a crick in my neck.”

Relief filled his scent and settled over you like a blanket, before his expression turned a little more on the mischievous side. “Want me t’ kiss it better?”

Soap let out a loud laugh, before pushing you up towards Ghost. “Go on. The man’s insatiable. Ah cannae blame him, want tae taste you forever, but me Gran always said it’s rude not tae share.” 

Now Ghost brought your back to his chest, and his mouth got to work tasting the slightly swollen scent gland at the side of your neck. This time he wasn’t as gentle, the power of your scent here driving his alpha over the edge. He was careful not to use his teeth, but his sucking kisses were no doubt leaving bruises that would take days to heal. 

Your beasts hadn’t stopped their play the whole time, tails wagging and chasing each other around your mind's eye, but getting rougher each time the beta or alpha caught your omega. Soon they would devolve into nothing more than yips and snarls, all claws and teeth, fighting to gain power over you.

Your eyes settled on Soap as he licked his fingers before bringing them to his core. Two fingers on each side of the flushed nub of his cock as his thumb started up a slow tempo up and down.

“See what you do to him?” Ghost said as he finally let up on the sucking kisses he was leaving on your scent gland. His eyes zeroed in on the way you licked your lips as you stared at Soap’s wet core. “Ya want t’ suck ‘is cock, Vicious?”

“Yeah,” you panted, not taking your eyes off Soap.

“Ya have t’ make ‘im beg for it. Our Johnny’s so pretty when ‘e begs.”

“Ghost, come oan, dinnae make me beg!” Soap whined, but he never let up the light friction of his thumb on his cock. 

“See, ‘e already started and ya haven’t even done anythin’ yet.”

You looked between the two men for reassurance and scented the air to check for any thing out of the unusual in Soap’s scent, but all you found was a cloud heavy with want. 

“Please, Cinder.” Soap whispered, voice deep and needy, giving you a taste of what kind of sounds you could pull from the other man. That thought alone sent a shiver down your spine and had your leaking cock throbbing.

[cyclopsboxhead]

I'm reading some of the Peter Milligan x-men run and Lorna dating Bobby is so fucking funny. Your ex hates being happy and your new man is gay, girl at this point just give up and start dating women.

[makethatelevenrings]

Civilian!Reader X Johnny MacTavish

Any of these lol

“You look awful.” “I trust you, it’s ok.” Or

“Wanna bet?”

Feel free to ignore this

Really, it just slipped out.

John got home just when the sun was starting to crack across the horizon and bathe everything in its delicate light. You were an early riser solely because Johnny was an early riser and it was easy to get into the habit and harder to break yourself out of it. His missions were sporadic deployments, not the lengthy months stretching into years that most military spouses were subjected to. But whenever he kissed you goodbye before he headed off to base, you knew that there was a good chance that he didn’t come back this time. Your brave, reckless Scotsman.

You woke up to another day of a cold bed and empty apartment aside from your small calico cat, Missy, short for Missile Launcher. That was courtesy of your husband who was keenly proud of that one. Missy cried at you as you prepared her breakfast as if she couldn’t see that you were actively feeding her and was instead wasting away into nothing.

“I know, love. I miss him too,” you cooed as you set her dish down next to a fresh bowl of water. She rubbed her furry cheek against your shin and then darted towards her food. Now it was time for your own breakfast. Eggs and toast as usual, it seemed. You made a mental note to swing by the local market for some more provisions for the week. Gah, provisions. You were turning into Johnny.

As if the thought of him summoned the damned man, you heard one of the many deadbolts and locks click at the front door and you stood up straighter. One by one, the locks disengaged and then the door swung open to reveal…

“You look awful.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stuff them back in. Deep under eye bags marred his normally bright blue eyes and his mohawk was in a complete disarray without a hint of gel in it. Soot covered his cheeks and along his neck. His duffle bag was covered in ash and his boots were too.

“Thanks, hen,” he sighed. “Really makin’ a man feel welcome home there.”

You laughed but beckoned him inside. “Take off your boots before you dirty up the house. What the hell happened?”

“Simon bet Gaz that he couldn’t sneak up on Price and scare him. Simon forgot to add that firecrackers weren’t a viable option.”

You threw your head back with a laugh and let him drag you into his arms. He rubbed his dirty face into the crook of your neck, ensuring that you were covered in soot just as he was. You tangled your hand in his hair and shrieked as he lifted you up and into a bridal carry.

“You better be heading straight for the shower, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Aye, love. You’re all messy. Better clean you up.”

You swatted his shoulder and rolled your eyes as he chuckled. “Hey, you said I looked awful. Gotta make sure I look alright for my darling partner.”

“Sap,” you muttered, but you accepted his sweet kiss nevertheless.

[inncubus-honey]

watch the crows

a/n: this based on that one post where it tells that the number of crows can indicate something. so, I'm trying my hand at writing soap, so let me know how it feels. also it may not make sense in places, i wrote this in one night with a bit of editing.

soap x gn!reader Word Count: 1.9k

“remember y/n, watch the crows when you hear them calling. they are natures fortune tellers…people always say owls are the wise ones, but crows have always secretly been protecting people for millions of years..” your grandpa nudged your shoulder as the cold air nipped at your exposed nose. nodding his head in the direction of the birds, you saw seven crows sitting on the telephone lines. not directly together, but altogether, there were eleven when counted. looking at your grandpa, a puff of smoke left his mouth from the cigar in his hand.

the soft clank of his mug on the glass table sounded along with shuffling of winter clothes from him and you. burning your cheeks further into the raised collar of your puffer coat, glancing over at him, you saw as he watched the crows, unmoving when you turned to him.

“what do eleven crows mean, grandpa?” your voice softly carried out across the snowy plains as a deep chuckle left him. confused, you raised an eyebrow as you waited for his answer as burnt tobacco met your nose as the wind pushed the smoke towards you.

“uncertainty, little one. the most uncertain events will transpire soon.” a deep sigh left him as you turned back to the crows in time for the birds to take off from the telephone line. walking over to your grandpa, you took a seat next to him which led to him bringing you into his side to keep from the cold.

“is that why you have that crow tattoo, grandpa?” you whispered to him, almost scared of spooking away the crows if you spoke in your normal volume. your grandpa had shown younger photos of himself which allowed you to see that he had three crows in three stages of flight on his back. a hearty laugh left him as he rubbed your shoulder and a tight squeeze of a hug.

“aye, y/n. the day i asked your grandmother to marry me, i spotted three crows that morning on the way to pick the ring i had made for her…” he smiled down at you, life bright in his eyes with crows feet hugging the corners.

two nights from the day with your grandpa, you would get the news that he had been rushed to the hospital when he had a heart attack. your whole family would live on edge for a month as your grandpas health went up and down; he would pass away, peacefully in the middle of the night in november.

its a conscious habit now to watch phone lines, trees, buildings for any signs of birds when out on the field..this earned you your call sign, ‘Condor’, when you first joined the army. others saw how you watched birds and the name stuck, joking that you always had your head stuck in clouds or waiting for something to fall from the sky. 

but from watching the crows has allowed you to predict the outcome of some missions. when kate brought you to the 141, your bird watching habit grew ten times stronger; all missions could end in everyone dying or something like that. but when you spot your birds, you know what needs to happen. this caught the eye of a certain scotsman; soap would see how you always looked at something, but couldnt tell why or what. 

always writing in a journal that you kept in the front of your vest, getting it out your vest when you have a moment of quiet on the field or on the heli back to base. he knows the comfort writing a journal could bring during service, he does it himself when gets back to his room. it helped him keep his head on his shoulders, soap always wanted to ask what you would write about. but he knew it would be very invasive to ask and make writing in a journal be very hard.

when you first met soap, you always watched how he interacted with others. it was different from how you kept to yourself; like a crow watching a bevy of larks, either waiting to strike or just…longing to have a group like that.

whenever having a chance to eat in the mess hall with the group, you found yourself listening and drawn to soap at a moments notice. baby blue eyes beamed with excitement, joy or humor when he was sharing a story or how expressive he was while doing it.

you soon realized your heart fluttered while your stomach did flips at the thought of seeing soap next in the mess hall. it felt nice to have something to look forward to after so long.

 —

taking a few moments to rest after a long night of walking, you guys took a break and started a little fire to warm up a bit. having to do a mission set in germany in winter was not a great feeling, your feet started to feel numb in your toes and your joints ached at the slightest bend. breathing caused your lungs to burn at every exhale as your nose got a deeper red hue the more time you spent outside. ghost took first watch over the four of you and sat back to the fire to watch the forest line with his rifle sitting on his lap. 

gaz took to sleeping by the log, near ghost as soap was across from gaz and watched the forest with ghost. but when he looked at you as you were further away from the others. your notebook resting upon your stomach, your hands printing whatever came to your mind, he could see some doodles and writing. but he couldnt read anything you wrote down. soap wished he saw what thoughts went through your head in the notebook of yours.

you counted five crows on the phone line. positive transaction. making note of it in your notebook, you had a habit of noting how many crows you see every mission or whenever you're out. it was like your grandfather was still with you whenever you wrote your findings; just the knowledge of the crow watching and the crows that day were the only words meant for you and your grandfather.

—

waking up the next morning, your lungs burned and ached from the frosty air throughout the night. the men were eating mri packs quickly before ghost handed you a pack which caused you eat everything given inside. doesnt matter if its good or not, you need the energy for anything that could happen; sitting upon a dead log next to gaz, you looked around at the powerlines incase they changed in the morning. 

no crows were to be seen which is a good sign as it means nothing is coming for awhile and that last nights watching was a good omen. packing everything into the bag on your back, you ready your gun of choice. everyone made their way down the trail to the compound that is said to hold makarov and all his plans. everyone keeping their eyes on the foliage around them.

“eyes up, everyone. we dont know what lies ahead; look for anything suspicious.” ghost voice broke the eerie silence of nature and footsteps crunching upon the ground. everyones nerves were on high alert as you got closer and closer to the compound. anything and everything could happen in a matter of moments and none of you would be the wiser. 

but thankfully, yall had a smooth entry into makarovs compound. taking guards out silently, moving the shadows like you were taught to do. ghost taking charge when it came to checking corners and giving orders, leading you around to find the control room where the files yall needed would be found. you found your eyes watching soap as he moved before you like you always have with him.

soap moved with such stature like a lion; holding the gun in a tight grip as everyone moved throughout the compound. you found you couldnt tear your eyes away from the way he carried himself, but also it almost cost you both everything.

as kyle and ghost went to the left of the corridor while soap and you moved forward, your eyes both watched him and passed him to look out for threats. when given the cue to round the corner, soap moved first with his gun readied in front of his face. Everything felt like it moved in slow motion as someone else rounded the corner as well, their gun drawn high and ready at soaps head. in a split second, you pulled soap down to the ground, but not before a bullet nicked him in the temple.

moving quickly, you made quick work of the person causing them to fall to the ground with a thud. soap groaned in pain made you focus on the man you’ve secretly cherished for years, blood pooling for gash upon his temple, you grabbed a gaze from your vest and packed it into the wound.

“we heard shots, what happened-” kyle found himself cut off upon seeing you hold gaze to soaps head wound. looking over at ghost, he was already on call for an evac heil for you and soap as he and kyle would finish up in the compound. 

kyle crouched down next to you as silent tears trickled down your cheeks, applying pressure to soaps wound. 

“hey…soaps gonna be okay.” kyle whispered to you as he gently held onto to soaps neck to keep his spine stable. once price heard that someone had a head injury, he had the pilot speed over to the compound.

ghost kept watch over the halls as you and kyle kept your eyes and hands on soap; your body shook as you tried to keep your hands from shaking with distraught. blood dyed his hair crimson, along with dripping down his features coating them in red slick.

maybe you missed a sighting of crows that morning, maybe you didn't look at the trees along the road to the compound and now soap is injured and its your fault.

the thought of your last night with your grandpa before ending up in hospital flashed through your mind as the same out of control feeling creeped into your bones. some stray tears dripped down onto your hands as you looked over his still face.

thankfully, the doctor said it was a simple gash, but because it was such thin skin thats why he bled a lot. soap was laying, unconscious with wires and tubes all over him. you had sat in the uncomfortable, leather hospital chair all night and waited for soap to do and say anything.

you found yourself holding onto his warm hand, gently rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. comforting him in touch as he tried to pull himself out of his unconscious state; the 141 was too quiet without him.

“you better wakeup soon, johnny…i hate you not being here..” you found yourself whispering to the still air of the hospital room. the others had gone back to the barracks for the night, but your heart kept you in the chair.

“lass…im not going anywhere, sweething…” a groan sounded from soap as he shifted to face you. a tired, smirk graced his lips as you sniffled with relief upon seeing him wake up. you removed the tears from your eyes, you got up and moved to sit next to him on the hospital bed.

soap pulled you in closed to his body as he rested his head upon yours, wrapping your hand in his. you both just cuddled into one another with content silence, drifting off into finally some comfortable sleep with the beeping of machines echoing throughout the room.

the last thought that came across your mind was…yeah, yall would be alright.

[lilacskiesapothecary]

🌟🍰🍋 Yummy Cake Batter & Lemon Soap🌟🍋🍰

🌸Honey Senpai’s Shortcake 🌸

[rosehathawhey]

NEPO BABY BRAT: A Thomas Forrester Series

+ what he thinks is what he saw:

[usernamefoundhere]

Pico x hanzo stimboard with honey themes

Requested by: @carnival-of-carnage

Do not tag both pico and hanzo as kin, f/o, or me/irl/id please, both are fictives in a system who are dating

Reblogs are appreciated

Credits

[honeysrecs]

Oh my GOD

spoilers under the cut.

THIS???? OH MY GOD

I really like your writing! I'm so glad I found your page. I was wondering if I could do a drabble or little one shot ask about the 141 boys (poly or individual doesn't matter either way) I just had this idea because there's so many ideas about the boys not thinking they're good enough for their girl but what if it was the opposite way and I was wondering what you'd think their reactions would be.

The idea is that their girl is on the phone with her friend thinking they can't hear her talking (maybe they were asleep or out for a run or something) and her friend asks how things are going with them. Their girl full on gushes about the boys to her friend and her friend is like "oooo sounds like love to me! Have you told them yet?" And their girl is like "I... No of course not...They can't love me, I couldn't possibly expect them to."

This is long but thank you for listening to me ramble!

PLEASE I got so sappy with this one I just couldn't stop my fingers from typing. Also you're such a sweetheart <333

Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt, food, mentions of sex. Fem!Reader. MDNI.

Kyle Garrick:

     Kyle’s had a long day, and the man just wants a proper cup of tea. He starts down the hallway, but when he hears his name coming from your room, he stops dead in his tracks. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but crack your door open to eavesdrop a bit. 

     “I’m telling you, he’s perfect! When I have a bad day, he’ll take me out for coffee, or we’ll go for a walk or just look around the pet store. Sometimes he’ll even do my laundry! It’s- it’s not a crush anymore. I’m in love with him,” you ramble on to your friend, who’s giggling with glee over the speaker of your phone.

     “Well, have you told him?” She questions excitedly, and you go quiet for a moment.

     “Of course I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not… it’s not like he feels the same. I’d just be hurting myself,” you reply sadly.

     Kyle frowns deeply, and he’s almost positive he can physically feel his heart breaking. God, he’d rather fall out of another helo than ever hear you sound so distraught again. He wants nothing more than to barge into your room and pull you into his arms, kiss away all your doubts and prove to you just how much he loves you. Instead, the sound of your voice brings him back to reality. 

     “I think I’m gonna grab a snack. It was good talking to you,” you hang up the phone and open your door, surprised to see your roommate standing right there. “Kyle! Shit, did- did you-? I’m so-”

     “Y’mean it?” Kyle asks softly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.

     Even so, you sheepishly nod your head, unable to meet his eyes. His warm hands cup your face and lift your head up to look at him, and he smiles so warmly that you can’t help but do the same.

     “Silly girl. I love you, too.”

     John Price:

     The base was dead today, barely any paperwork to do or new recruits to train. For the first time in months, John was able to get off on time, and he decided to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite Indian food. When he arrives at your flat, he uses his spare key to unlock the door and steps inside, kicking off his boots—ever since that one time you playfully lectured him on keeping your home clean, he’s engraved the rule into his brain.

     John sets your gifts on the island in your kitchen, glancing around for any signs of where you could be. You’re definitely home, he can tell that much by your keys dangling off the holder and your own shoes by the door. He carefully steps through the hallway and hears your unmistakable voice in the bathroom, along with the quiet sound of running water. He goes to turn the handle but decides against it when he hears his name slip from your lips.

     “God, I love John so much, you don’t understand. He’s everything I could ever want. Every time I see him, I just- I wanna kiss him stupid, y’know? I mean, shit, he’s already seen every part of me since he’s my best friend and all.”

     “So… when are you gonna tell him? It sounds like he’s interested, babe,” your friend’s voice rings through your phone. “Best friends don’t normally just see each other naked.”

     “Oh, stop it. There’s no way he could feel the same. I’m just… I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

     John’s heard enough. He trudges back into the kitchen and fixes your plate of takeout, as well as a glass of wine and some chocolates. He arranges the food on a tray and brings it back to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before walking inside. You scream, and normally he would laugh, but he’s so hurt that you think you’re unworthy of his love, and he’s dead set on proving otherwise. 

     “Do you always scare the shit out of people you’re trying to surprise?” You laugh, hand resting on your chest as if it’ll calm your beating heart.

     “Only the one I’m in love with, sweet girl.”

     Simon Riley:

     “M’gonna step out for a smoke, love,” Simon informs you, and you nod politely.

     The coffee shop is a little too crowded for Simon’s liking, and he needs a break. Your company is the sweetest he could ask for, and he feels bad leaving you for even a second, but the demons in his head were begging for an escape. Still, he stands by the window where your table is located just so he can keep an eye on you. Call it a weakness, but when he sees you messaging your friend, he can’t tear his eyes away from the conversation. Thank the heavens for the little slip-up the café made, having the one-way windows installed inside out.

yeah he’s like,,, stupidly perfect

it’s like he’s trying to make me lose it???

like sir i’m already in love with you

what more do you want

lmaooo why haven’t u told him yet????

he’s obviously in love with ur dumb ass too

oh fuck off

you know we’re just friends

don’t give me hope

     Simon frowns deeply, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his boot. He’s spent his whole life in shackles, deeming himself unlovable, unworthy of anything good or sweet or kind. But when he met you, those thoughts dissolved like melting snow—he even took the mask off for you. He didn’t even know it was possible to love somebody so much, so to have the one person he adores more than anything in the world doubt herself? He won’t have it. 

     He reenters the coffee shop in a hurry, long legs striding over to you as quickly as possible. Before you can even react, he leans down to press his lips against yours, hands firmly on your face to keep you still. When he pulls back, he’s near tears looking at your shocked expression.

     “I don’t love y’like a friend. I love y’like a man loves his wife, like you’re the air I breathe. I’ve always been yours, y’hear me? Always.”

     Johnny MacTavish:

     Johnny’s expecting to feel your warm body beside his when he wakes, but instead he’s met with the soft thud of his arm onto the unoccupied sheets where you should be. He frowns and rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone—it’s only 4:00 in the morning, and the sun isn’t even out yet. You’ve obviously not been in bed for a while, and it worries him. Did you leave in the middle of the night, all by yourself? Shit, what if something bad happened to you?

     Johnny hops out of bed and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, starting a frantic search through his house. You’re not in the bathroom, or in any of the spare rooms, not even the sunroom where you love to cozy up and read a book. The last place he thinks to check is the kitchen, and lo and behold, there you are, brewing some coffee and talking on the phone to someone. Your best friend, he realizes, when you put the call on speaker to pour yourself a cup. 

     “It’s just… last night, he told me he loved me, and it- I don’t know. It ruined me. I couldn’t even finish, I had to fake it.”

     Johnny freezes and leans against the door frame. His stomach feels sick suddenly—did he really fuck up that bad last night? God, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he figured there was no better time to confess his feelings for you while he was… well, inside of you. He really thought you felt the same. Your little sniffle drags him out of his thoughts, and his eyes land on your now crying figure once again.

     “N-no, you don’t understand. I know he just said it because of the sex. I’m not… he couldn’t love me. Not the way I love him. We’re just friends who happen to sleep together sometimes. It’s my own fault for catching feelings when he- he deserves someone so much better,” the break in your voice destroys Johnny and all he can do is listen as your best friend calms you down.

     He doesn’t make a move until you’ve hung up. Only after you’ve set the phone down does he come barreling in, wrapping his strong arms around you, ignoring your shriek of surprise. Johnny pulls back to cup your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that managed to slip past your waterline.

“Ye’re the only one ah want. D’ye understand? Ye’re the only one fer me. Ah meant wha’ ah said, hen, ah love ye. There’s no’ a force on this earth tha’ could make me want ye less. Ye’re mine, alreit? As much as ah’m all yers.”

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[omegapropaganda]

WIP Wednesday!

Y'all seemed to really like last week's so here is a sneak peak into Burnt Honey chapter 9!

You just nodded as you pushed the rest of your beans around your plate. You could tell Soap was lying. It wasn’t hard. The beta’s scent was underlaid with something bitter as he spoke, but you let it go. You were sure now that Ghost’s disappearance was your fault. It was good that he decided to pull away now before you got too attached.

Your poor omega didn’t know what to think though. It had been pacing back and forth for the last few days crying out in search of the alpha it had bonded to. The connection you’d had with Ghost little more than a wisp now. If it wasn’t for the small pulses of shame that broke through every so often you would’ve brushed it off as a figment of your imagination.

“Thank you for breakfast, Soap.” You pushed your half eaten toast away and stood from the table. “I’ve gotta go get changed.”

You left the room quickly, not paying attention to anything Soap or Kyle had to say as you headed back to your room.

Now that you had a change of clothes you made your way to the showers. You had to get all these new scents off of you. You could feel Kyle’s omega curiously tugging at your connection, and your omega wanted to respond to the call. It wanted you to go find him and curl up in the comfort being offered, but you knew better.

You were such an idiot. What were you thinking letting yourself believe that there was any place in this world where you were wanted.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles

Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OwlHybridAU!

Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 26 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."

No one disagrees.

Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 18ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.

Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.

Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.

It's his kink.

Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20ft, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily and the boys love teasing him for it.

It's a group effort to preen his wings.

Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.

You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.

So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.

They backed off.

Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.

They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.

They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.

No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.

[tender-rosiey]

i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼

sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3

“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”

your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”

“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.

you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”

he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”

“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”

your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.

“found you!”

your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”

“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”

you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”

“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.

“yes, and I hate it.”

he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”

and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.

satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”

s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.

satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”

satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.

satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”

s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.

he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”

“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.

so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”

your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.

he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”

“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”

s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.

satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.

s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.

your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.

your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.

your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.

satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”

“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.

he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”

your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.

after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.

once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.

caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.

your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.

he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.

your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”

s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”

satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.

“mama!”

“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.

and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.

he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.

“s/n, look at mama!”

“yay!”

after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”

“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”

“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”

your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”

“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.

you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”

you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”

your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“

he perks up.

“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”

and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis @hearts4itoshi @sleepyxxhead @dunixxd

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[yeonzzzn]

consequences: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.4k

synopsis: folding your boyfriends laundry is a normal for you, mostly when his schedule is busy. so being the good girlfriend you are, you fold his laundry and stumble upon his soccer jersey, deciding to tease him with it and ultimately dealing with the consequences of your actions once he returns home.

genre: established relationship, non-idol!au, soccer player!jake, smut

warnings: swearing, sending nudes, bratty reader, masturbation, degrading, unprotected sex, dom!jake, jake rips readers panties, he is rough with reader, hair pulling, sex on the counter top, finger sucking, edging, MINORS DNI, lmk if I missed anything ♡

this is specially dedicated to @alvojake for helping me create this masterpiece ♡

You let yourself into your boyfriend's apartment, finding the hidden spare key inside the fake potted plant by the door, and strolling on inside. You knew he didn’t mind, you practically lived here anyway, preferring his bed over the shitty one you had back at the dorms. You might as well just move in with him at this point, most of your clothes and belongings are here as well. 

Again, it was perfectly normal for you to randomly show up at his apartment even when he wasn’t home. Sending him a quick text letting him know you’re waiting for him to come home from work and soccer practice, to which he responds back with three heart-eye emojis. 

Jake is always working so hard, not just at his job and college, but also at his sport, and on top of being a great boyfriend and always making time for you within his busy schedule. Taking the “if they want to they will!!” to a whole other level. Jake spoils you, cooks for you, always makes sure you feel loved and cared and most of all, he communicates. 

And because he is always giving everything his one hundred percent in all areas, the least you could do is help keep his apartment clean, fridge and pantry stocked with food, and keep up with his laundry. 

Which is the first thing your eyes are laid upon when you walk into the apartment, seeing all his clothes tossed onto the couch with his clean clothes laundry basket sitting beside the coffee table. 

The apartment smelt of his laundry detergent and soap, the sweet smell of lavender and honey filling your senses as you stepped closer to the couch, on instinct sitting down in the middle of the couch and picking at the clothing one by one to fold them. Separating them into categories as you folded: jeans and sweatpants, boxers and socks, shirts, tanks, and sweatshirts, his hoodies, his dressier clothing, and last but not least, his soccer jerseys. 

Not only did Jake have a couple extra jerseys from the team he plays on for the college you both attended, but professional jerseys from his favorite teams. 

One by one, you took the now folded laundry to his bedroom, placing them neatly in his dresser. But once it was time for the jerseys to be played neatly in, you accidentally dropped one onto the floor. 

With a sigh, you gently pressed the other jerseys into the drawer, then picked up the now unfolded one. You stared at his last name printed in big bolded “SIM” lettering, your eyes roaming at the blue and white stripes of your college's colors, then wandering up to the full-length mirror that rested against his bedroom wall, seeing your reflection. 

You rubbed your thighs together at the thoughts that came into your mind, tucking your lip between your teeth. 

You didn’t think twice about removing your clothing, leaving you completely naked until you pulled his jersey over your head, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. 

Sitting yourself on the floor in front of the mirror, you snapped a few photos, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and sitting straight enough that your nipples could obviously be seen. You turned yourself around, sitting pretty on your legs, lifting his jersey up enough to get a perfect view of your ass, and snapped a couple more photos. 

You grinned at yourself as you double-checked each photo, being satisfied with the outcomes. All you had to do now was send them on their way to your boyfriend. 

Jake sat at his computer desk, picking the lint out of the pockets of his jeans while watching Heeseung and Jay play rock paper scissors out of pure boredom. Usually, on a normal day, there’d be something to do. Whether that was paperwork, speaking to clients, scheduling meetings, or placing orders. But today? Not. A. Damn. Fucking. Thing. It took everything in Jake to not purposely sit back into his chair far enough that it tipped over and caused a panic just to help give everyone something to do. 

He checked the clock at the far end of the office, still two hours left before he could dip out and head to soccer practice then return home and be in your arms. Which was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the second-story window from this boredom, by the way. 

As if the thoughts of you were enough to manifest your text, he couldn’t hold back the smile at seeing your name on his phone. 

you: I folded your laundry jakey <3 jake: tysm baby <3 what would I do without you fr fr? 

The love Jake felt for you in this moment made him feel all warm and content, you were so good to him and for him. He literally couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. 

you: I did more than just your laundry.  jake: oh? you: [6 image attachments]

Jake nearly dropped his phone to the floor, his pants growing tighter the minute those sexy photos popped up in his texts. Quickly locked his phone and with a swift motion glanced over his shoulder making sure none of his co-workers were behind him when he received those photos. 

You smirked at seeing he read the message, already knowing he was probably panicking while being as hard as a rock. Leaning back on your ass to spread your legs further apart, you slide your fingers down your folds, spreading your lips apart. The very thought of Jake squirming at his desk to hide his raging boner had you completely soaked. 

Jake tried to clear his thoughts, to take deep breaths to keep calm and soften his cock but not having any luck. The images of bending you over this desk in front of him and railing the fuck out of you in his jersey wouldn’t leave his brain. His pants grew ever more tighter against him. 

He knew he had to take care of this boner and fast before anyone noticed and he became the laughing joke for the next month. 

With anger now fueling him, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held it close to his lower stomach as he stood from his chair, “Gonna take a quick break, be right back,” he said to Heeseung and Jay, they giving him a quick nod before returning to their rock paper scissors game. 

Jake slammed the bathroom door shut and locked, tossing his jacket to the counter. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down feeling the relief of his throbbing cock not being restricted, slamming his back against the door. 

Jake fumbled with his phone in his hands, fingers shaking as he texted you back after saving each photo one by one. 

jake: that was risky sending nudes like that while I am working.  you: but you loved it, didn’t you? ;) jake: what if someone saw them? i’m the only one who gets to see you like that.  you: oops you: [2 image attachments] 

He clicked the two new photos, seeing the way your fingers spread your folds apart, your cunt glistening against the sunlight that beamed into the room from your slick. 

Jake gritted his teeth, immediately dialing your number and pressing the phone to his ear, the call instantly going to voice mail, “ugh fucking whore,” he grumbled, redialing your number again. You knew better than to ignore his call a second time and answer. 

With a shaky voice, you said, “Hey baby,” 

“Hmm don’t hey baby me,” he growled, his free hand palming himself through his boxers at your voice, “you’re being so risky right now sending me those nudes, YN.” 

You could tell by his voice how hard and turned-on he was. You could hear it in his voice that he was touching himself. It made you circle your fingers on your clit and cunt clench around nothing, “Hmm but you’re enjoying it, aren’t you Jakey?” 

He slid his boxers and jeans down to his thighs, seeing how red and angry his cock was, how the precum slowly dripped down the side of the tip. He took himself in his hand and slowly pumped himself, “You’re being so naughty right now, being so slutty.” 

You softly moan at him degrading you, rubbing your fingers against your fuck hole, the lewd sounds making their way into Jake’s ear. 

“You better not be touching yourself,” he snapped, pumping his cock faster, tightening his fingers. He was so angry and so horny that the lines were getting blurred. He wanted nothing more than for his fingers to be the ones rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you. 

“And what if I am?” you cooed, hovering your fingers over your hole. 

“Stop,” he demanded, “Stop pleasuring yourself without me there as punishment for sending me nudes while I am working.” 

Jake had to admit this was so fucking hot. Even if your bratty behavior was driving him up a wall in more than just one way. 

“And if I don’t?” you cooed again, licking your bottom lip. 

“Keep being a brat and find out.” 

You pushed your fingers into your cunt, releasing a soft gasp. 

“You better not be fucking touching yourself,” he said again. 

You giggled, then ended the call. 

Oh, now he was pissed. 

Jake dropped his cock against his abdomen, both thumbs moving at the speed of light in anger, texting out a message about your bratty behavior, but stopping midway through to see a photo and video coming up. 

The photo made his jaw clench. His jersey was now pulled up over your breasts, your perky nipples on full display as your legs are spread even wider than in the last couple of photos, with two of your fingers pushed knuckles deep into your pussy. 

What a fucking brat.

The video was worse. You moaned loudly as you circled your fingers around your clit, then slowly slipped them between your legs, gathering your juices from your seeping hole, rubbing it up and spreading it around your lips. A small amount of it leaked from your cunt, slowly dripping down to the hardwood floor of his bedroom and then the video ended. 

WHAT. A. FUCKING. BRAT. 

He spit in his hand and took his cock back into his palm, stroking himself faster than before, head tilting back onto the door, biting his lip to keep his moans at a minimal level as his thumb worked to text you back. 

jake: it’s all over for you  you: oh yeah? jake: yeah jake: i’m going to fucking ruin you

You smirked, locking your phone and tossing it onto his bed, and pulled your pretty dark blue panties back onto your body. 

While you were smitten at what you’ve created, Jake is drawing blood from his lip at how hard his teeth bit down. His hand pumping him in a pit of anger. How dare you disobey him? Even if it made him even more horny, how dare you? It was one thing to be bratty while with him, but to be so brave to do it while he’s away from you? Did you think you were safe? Nah. It’s over for you the minute he steps foot into that apartment. You wouldn’t know peace. Getting everything but being gentle with you. 

Jake flipped through the photos and video you sent him, watching again and again how your slick drips from your cunt and onto his floor until his cum shoots out, coating his stomach. He loved seeing you wearing his clothes, mostly his jersey. Loving seeing his last name printed on the back with your gorgeous fat ass out sitting so perfectly on your perfect legs. Jake didn’t hesitate to make that his new home wallpaper. It was so fucking hot even with how mad he was. 

Jerking off might have taken care of his boner problem, but the main issue here is the fact he still has a little over an hour before getting off work and still had soccer practice to attend. The only thing Jake knew was you definitely made his workday entertaining. 

You were banking on that by the time Jake gets off work and attends practice, he would be way too tired to even punish you. So you pranced around his apartment in his jersey and your dark blue panties with a big ole smile on your face. 

Your stomach growled and decided to push your bratty, naughty girlfriend persona off to the back burner and go back to your sweet, caring, loving, and cute girlfriend persona who takes care of her boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away. 

You cooked dinner, which you don’t often do but still will on days Jake has longer schedules like tonight—putting together the perfect recipe for spaghetti and meatballs. 

Once the food was done, you checked the time, seeing Jake was probably off work now and heading to practice. You felt good knowing that once he returns home he’ll have a warm meal to eat. 

Except, you weren’t expecting what was about to happen. 

Jake skipped practice. 

Being way too damn horny and couldn’t wait a second longer. Jake was lucky he was able to keep a perfect boner (that unfortunately resurfaced) during the last hour of work. Made a phone call the minute he was out of his company building to his coach about how something urgent came up and he’d be missing practice tonight. 

Urgent as in him fucking you until you could no longer stand or walk. For a whole fucking week. 

Jake was sneaky as he carefully pushed his key into the doorknob and tip-toed his way in. Slowly and quietly closing the door behind him and slipping out of his shoes. 

The smell of dinner filled his nose as he turned the corner, seeing you stand at the counter with your back facing him. 

Jake carefully made his way across the living room, removing his shirt from his body, stopping at the couch to quietly yank down his jeans and boxers and slide them over the back of the couch. 

You hummed to yourself as you finished up your dinner, wiggling your hips to whatever song you had stuck in your head. 

Jake adored you, he really did. The feeling of endearment filled his heart at seeing how happy and cute you looked right now. Jake almost—almost—forgave your behavior from earlier at the sight before him and the smell of dinner waiting for him. But his raging hard cock and the flash of your dark blue panties pulled him back. He’ll give you his forgiveness another time.

You barely pushed the empty plate away from you when you felt a pair of hands touch you. One at the back of your neck and the other on your back, shoving you forward onto the counter. Your face is now pressed against the cool marble. 

Your breath hitched at feeling your boyfriend’s long, hard length connecting to your ass. You don’t even need to look at him to know the hands and cock touching you’re his. You could be blind and you’d know your boyfriend's hands without a second thought. 

You finally saw him in your peripheral vision as his chest connected to your back, hot breath hitting your ear, “You think making dinner would put you in good graces?” 

“Jae,” you whined, “You’re home so early.” 

He chuckled into your ear, “Skipped practice, had more important matters to take care of.” 

Important matters being to punish you for your behavior. You could already feel your slick pooling in your panties even as your heart raced, mind wondering what he had in store for you. You could also tell he was already naked, meaning Jake meant business and no amount of apologizing would save you. Not that you wanted to be saved anyway. 

The hand that was at your back slid down, aggressively squeezing your ass before slipping his hand around your thigh and between your legs, feeling your wetness pool onto his fingers. Jake hissed at the feeling. You were soaked. He didn’t even need to prep you. And that drove him insane. 

“I told you to not fucking touch yourself,” he growled, his tongue licking up your ear, “But you had to go be a slut and disobey me.” 

You backed your ass against him, both hands shooting to your hips and gripping them tightly, “Don’t,” he warned, “Don’t fucking move.” 

You obeyed, keeping as still as possible. Trying so hard to not rub your thighs together in anticipation of what is to come. 

Jake lifted himself off of you, eyes drifting down to your dark blue panties, seeing the wet spot from your cunt on full display, all for him. 

Jake didn’t want to wait those few couple seconds to slide your pretty panties down your legs and throw them across the room. No, no. That wouldn’t be fun. He looped his index fingers into the fabric and the sound of them ripping filled the kitchen. 

“Jake!” you snapped, starting to lift yourself off the counter, only to feel his hand right back on your neck and face meeting the marble once again, “Those were my favorite panties!” 

“Womp womp,” he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your neck, as his fingers slid down to your clit, “Shouldn't have been acting like a fucking brat today. I also told you to not fucking move.” 

Jake violently, and fastly, circled his fingers on your clit. It took everything in you to not moan out in such pleasure. Not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction of hearing you. He wanted to call you a brat? You’ll act like a brat. 

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you were purposely holding back those sweet moans he desperately wanted to hear all in a way to get back at him. Unfortunately for you, Jake knows your body inside and out. Know what gets you going. Knows how to get you cumming with just his words alone. Knows how to work his cock in your pussy that will have you scream chanting his name at the top of your lungs for the whole apartment complex to hear. 

He released his hand from your neck and wrapped it in your hair in a makeshift ponytail, yanking harshly to pull you up, your back now pressed to his chest.

“Wanna act like a fucking brat with me, hmm? What will be happening next is the consequences of your actions.” 

Your bratty behavior was short-lived as his fingers worked faster against your clit, his breath whispering how much of a slut you were, his little whore, how bad of a girl you were acting today. 

Your body tensed, and Jake removed his fingers, “Jae,” you whined at the loss of his fingers, feeling the climax you so badly wanted fade away, taking it upon yourself to slide your own fingers to your heat to finish yourself off, only for Jake to slap your hand away, and you were back to being bent over the countertop, your arms being pinned above you. 

“Nah,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to bend it up and onto the counter, “Bad girls don’t get to cum, not when they disobey their boyfriend.” 

You groaned against the marble, feeling your hot breath push back up at you, “Jae, I’m sorry,” 

Jake smirked, he finally broke you. 

“Oh, yeah?” he whispered, taking his cock between his fingers and lining the tip up to your fuck hole, “You’re sorry?” 

You nodded, fingers gripping the hand that held yours. You wanted his cock so far up inside you so bad you were willing to beg, to apologize if it got you what you wanted. 

Jake slowly pushed the tip in, “Use your words, baby,” 

“Yes,” you pant, “I am sorry for being a brat.” 

“Hmmm,” Jake hummed, “You’re still going to be punished.” 

Jake aggressively pushed himself into you, completely bottoming out. 

You chant out a string of “yes yes yes,” at him filling you up. But to your dismay, he didn’t move. 

His fingers found your clit again, going just as fast as they did before his palm pushed down on your tummy, putting more pressure on his dick wrapped in your walls. 

You let out wet moans, drool sliding out your mouth and onto the countertop. 

“Louder, baby,” he groaned, “let me hear those sounds,” 

You moaned louder, cunt clenching around him, and his fingers were once again gone. 

You hissed at him and he just chuckled, “I told you bad girls don’t get to cum,” 

He continued to edge you, dick still not moving inside of you, reminding you over and over again that this was your punishment, this was the consequences of your actions. Being denied the release you so desperately wanted. 

Tears filled your eyes, head softly tilting up to make eye contact with him. 

His pupils were blown out, full of lust, want, and need. You could tell by his facial expression he was losing his fucking mind. But Jake was strong-willed, and all it took was you locking eyes with him, batting those pretty eyes at him with those little tears for his grin to grow wider and decide to finally let you release. 

Jake loved edging you, loved being so dominant and in control over you. Most importantly, he loved seeing how he’s ruined you. 

“Cum,” he whispered into your ear, “Cum for me my love, make a sweet mess on my cock.” 

You clenched around him, his fingers continued making their circles and showing no sign of slowing down until he felt your release on his cock. 

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned, slowing his fingers. 

Jake could feel your cum seeping out of your hole and down his thigh. He lifted your leg on the countertop even higher, spreading you so wide for him.

Then he started moving. 

You yelped, your back arching, hands scrambling to get out of his hold to grip the counter. He fucked into you at a primal rate. The hand on your thigh squeezing the plush so hard his nails dug into the skin sure to leave bruises. 

His hand released your hands and found their way back into your hair, pulling you back up against his chest. 

“Scream my name,” he moaned into your ear, breathing unevenly from the pure pleasure his cock was feeling as he railed you against this counter, “Scream my name.” 

And you did, using every ounce of air in your lungs to scream his name, his cock hitting your g-spot as your climax built up again. You already knew you’d have bruises on your hips from hitting the counter by his fucking, that your voice would be nonexistent in the morning, your legs would be jelly, and barely be able to move. 

But you loved it. Loved every bit of it. These were the consequences of your choices, after all. 

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, mouth gaping open as you continued to moan out his name in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help himself, your mouth looked so pretty all open for him and shoved his fingers into your mouth, the middle pushing down onto your tongue. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, tongue swirling around his digits the best you could with the pressure he had on it. 

Jake was losing his mind as he looked down at you, seeing the way your breasts bounce as his dick fucked up into you, seeing the way your nipples graze against his jersey. 

Fuck he was so in love with you. 

His thrusts became sloppy and not as aggressive. He was reaching his climax. 

“Ughh m’gunna cum,” he moaned, your lips wrapping around his fingers and slightly biting down onto them, making him hiss in response. 

Jake wanted to cum so fucking bad, wanted to feel you tightly around him as he came. 

He shoved your leg off the counter, groaning as he forced your thighs to touch, making you so much tighter around him. You came right then and there from that pressure, sending Jake’s head spinning. 

He bent you back over the countertop, removing his fingers from your mouth and gripping the other side of the counter, his hand that was in your mouth slipping from your saliva and accidentally shoving the plate that once held your dinner off the counter and onto the hard floor with a crash. 

He pressed his chest to your back, using all his leg and hip strength to fuck harder into you in a way of begging for his release. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the counter, teeth biting down into your shoulder. 

The last moan you let out in sync with his final thrust sent him over the edge, his cum painting your walls. Jake thrust a couple more times to chase his high, milking his cock with your cunt of every last drop until it was leaking down your leg. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, releasing the counter and running his hands down to your waist, softly squeezing as he plants soft kisses on your back, “I fucking love you.”

With a shaky breath, you told him you loved him too. 

He pulled out of you, and lifted you from the counter, already seeing how wobbly your legs were, it boosted his ego. 

Jake embraced you, kissing all over your face before landing on your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. 

Just when you think you’ve paid your dues, Jake’s cock hardened against your stomach, and his eyes went dark again, his index finger pointing at the broken plate on the floor while his other hand gripped your chin, “Clean it up please for me baby while I eat the delicious dinner you made for me, can’t let it go to waste.” 

You nodded, watching as Jake removed himself from you and walked to the stove, grabbing a plate. You studied his back muscles, lip tucking between your teeth at how sexy he was shirtless, how sexy his back was. 

“Oh, YN?” you hummed in response, watching as he slowly turned to face you, “Drink some water to soothe that throat of yours will ya? You’re going to suck me off after I eat.” 

You rubbed your thighs together in excitement. Hands playing with the ends of his jersey. 

Maybe you’ll be a brat when he’s away more often.