#tf141 reader

[keegansgurl]

Summary: The reader gets captured by Graves during his siege of Las Almas. And the commander has certain ideals about what's in store for her.

Warnings!! Gun violence, wounds, implied sexual content, Kidnapping, being held captive, 18+ themes

Thunder cracks in the distance as you step out of the hummer with Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, and Rudy. It's dusk, and the air is starting to get heavy with moisture as the thunderstorm in the mountains grows near.

"Is that Graves' guys posted up at the gate?" You nudge Ghost when you spot the armed guards standing at the gate leading into the base.

Alejandro and Rudy share a look before Alejandro steps forward toward the gate. You hang back with Soap and Ghost while the Colonel searches for answers as to why a bunch of hired guns are guarding his base.

"What's Graves doing?" You ask Ghost as you watch Alejandro get up in his face.

"I don't know." Ghost replies in a gruff and cautious tone. "But I've got a bad feeling." He adds.

You nod in agreement, your dominant hand hovering over the pistol holstered at your thigh. Alejandro and Graves continue to but heads until all hell breaks loose. Alejandro gets taken down swiftly by one of Graves' men. Shots begjn whizzing through the air and Ghost grabs your arm to pull you behind cover.

"It doesn't have to go down like this, Ghost!" Graves shouts from his spot in front of the base gate.

"We need to get out of here." You crouch down next to Ghost with urgency.

Ghost nods in agreement and begins coming up with an escape plan. Graves' men begin to fan out and come towards the group. You and Ghost make a break for it but one of Graves' men manages to clip you with a shot to the shoulder. A searing hot pain shoots up through your shoulder and you crumble into the dirt.

Ghost stops and turns around to pull you up, but you wave him off with the hand that isn't clutching at your shoulder.

"No! Ghost, go! Get out of here!" You shout at your commander, the sound of Graves's men closing in growing louder in your ears by the second.

Ghost nods in understanding and takes off before your enemies descend upon you. One of them trains his gun on you while the other one grabs you by the injured shoulder and hauls you up to your feet.

"Ah!" You yelp in pain from the contact to your bullet wound.

Graves' men drag you back toward the gate and right up to their commander. Graves cracks a smug grin as you are dumped into the dirt at his feet.

"Well well well, if it isn't the infamous Spectre of the 141." Graves leans down and grabs your chin harshly in his hand.

You glare up at him as Graves holds your chin in his calloused hand. You grit your teeth as he smiles down at you with a sinister look in his eye.

"Boy who'd of thought that such a pretty thing like you could have all that rage and violence locked up inside." Graves chuckles at you. "You know? I'm glad it was you that my boys managed to catch first. Means that I get to have a little fun before work." He grins and signals for his men to take you away.

"You won't get away with this, Graves!" You kick and shout as you're dragged away and into one of the buildings on base.

You get tossed into a small barren room harshly. Your knees scrape against the floor, head hitting the corner of the doorframe as you get tossed down to the floor. The door slams shut and you hear a click followed by the sound of heavy boots walking away from the door.

You suck in a breath and manuever yourself into a sitting posistion on the cold floor. Graves' boys secured your hands behind your back with zipties after they got you inside the builging, so your movement is severly limited.

"Fuck." You groan to yourself as you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You glance at your shoulder where you got shot. Blood has completely soaked through your shirt and beginning to dry into the fabric. The tendons in your shoulders burn with every little movement, making you wince in pain.

You scoot yourself over to the far corner of the room and lean against it. Graves's men pulled the zipties around your wrists pretty damn tight. But if you can somehow dislocate your thumb on one of your hand. Then you think that you can manage to slip your restraints.

You keep your back almost against the far corner of the room as you work to dislocate your thumb. While you work you keep your eyes fixed on the door on the other side of the room. You can hear footsteps and muffled voices on the other side of the door. Graves' men no doubt. But if you can pull this off then you'll be ready for them next time they come through that door.

"Come on. Come on!" You mumble to yourself as you work. "Fuck! Yes, that should do it." You wince quietly when your thumb grinds against bone and eventually clicks out of place.

Your hand aches now as well as your shoulder. But now there is just enough leverage for you to dig your hand free from your restraints. The zipties dig into your skin, scraping away at the first layer of your dermis as you go. But you've got to get free.

After some effort, your left hand finally manages to slip free. You breath a sigh of releif as you move your arms back into their normal posistion. Your wrists are rubbed raw and bleeding at this point. But you're free.

"Okay. Stay calm, YN." You calm yourself down now that you're free.

You tear a strip off the bottom of your shirt and wrap it around your shoulder into a makeshift sling. The sling takes some of the pressure off your shoulder and you allow yourself a little bit of time to rest and recover. You think about Soap and Ghost while you rest. Surely the two of them managed to get away and are coming up with a plan to come rescue you and Alejandro right now.

The heavy sound of footsteps approaching the door switches you out of relaxing mode. You quickly pull your arm out of the sling and wrench your hands behind your back again. If your captor doesnt know that you've free'd yourself. Then you've got the element of surprise.

The door creaks open and Graves steps into the room. He closes the door behind him and grin at you. "Well, aren't you a sigh for sore eyes, sweetheart? All hunched up in the corner, cowering in fear like a meek little bunny." He chuckles to himself and approaches you.

You watch Graves come towards you. You could spring on him right now and take him down. But you know that it's better if you wait until he's closer and more off guard to strike.

"Fuck you!" You growl at Graves with fire in your eyes and venom in your tone.

Graves comes to a stop a few feet in front of you. He smiles at you before gesturing for you to get up.

"Come on! Let's see it." Graves prompts you. "I'm not stupid, sweetheart. I know that you've found a way out of those retraints by now." He insists.

You grit your teeth and begruginly move your arms back in front of you. It'll be no use in trying to attack him now.

"Atta girl." Graves muses and reaches behind him. He pulls his arm back out in front of him with a bottle of water in hand and offers it to you. "Go on. Take it."

You scoff and turn your nose up at the offer. "I don't want shit from you, traitor." You spit at him.

"Suit yourself, sweetheart." Graves shrugs and pops the cap off of the bottle.

You watch Graves place the bottle to his lips and take a large swig of water from it. You become acutely aware of just how dry your mouth and throat are as you watch little droplets of precious water drio out of Graves' mouth and dribble down his chin.

"Ah!" Graves smirks and screws the cap back onto the now half-empty bottle. "Refreshing." He taunts you.

"If you're going to kill me, can you get it over with already?" You stare up at Graves with disdain written plainly on your face.

Graves laughs and crouches down to your level. "Kill you?" He scoffs. "Now why would I go and do something as stupid as that?" He asks you. "Shepard gave me a look at your file, you know?"

"General Shepard?" Your head snaps up to meet his gaze.

"Mhm." Graves grins. "You are quite the soldier. Long list of skills that could be useful for a man in my business." He adds. "And all wrapped up in an enticing package too."

You reel back as Graves reaches a hand out to caress your face. You breifly think about biting down on his hand as hard as you can. But you know that he'd just overpower you if you did.

"Come on, sargent." Graves coos at you. "Think about all the trouble we could get into if you teamed up with me, huh?" He paints a picture for you. "Think about all the fun we could have. All the money that we could make." Graves drones on.

"I'd rather die than ever work for a scumbag mercanary like you." You growl and turn your head away from him.

Graves doesn't seem to falter any at your harsh words. He steps forward again, backing you further into the corner. Both of you are standing up now. But Graves is at least half a foot taller than you are. He watches you with intense eyes as you try your best to turn away from him.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, YN." Graves scoffs. "Don't think that I haven't noticed the way you've been looking at me these past few days." He reaches forward and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "Hmm? All those stolen glances at breifings? Or that cute little smile being directed at me when your meathead 141 buddies aren't looking?" He teases you.

You turn your head in shame, knowing that everything Graves is saying is true. Graves chuckles and grabs your shoulder where you got shot. You gasp in pain and turn to look at Graves again.

"Let me go!" You huff a breath out at Graves and try to pull away from him.

Graves doesn't budge, and instead steps closer to you. His body traps you between himself and the wall and you can smell the mint on his breath as well as the cologne he wears wafting off of him.

"Come on sweetheart, just give in." Graves leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers in a husky tone to you.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you freeze in place. It's like your brain is short circuiting right now. All those dirty thoughts that popped into your head 24 hours ago when Graves first introduced himself come flooding back all at once. All those thoughts about how handsome Graves looks in his tactical gear. About how that damned Southern American accent ignited something inside of you when he introduced himself to the group.

Everything.

You could cut the tension in the room with a simple wave of the hand.

That tension is broken when a rapid knock sounds at the door. Graves step away from you with an annoyed grimace at being interupted. He backs up towards the door and offers you a wink and charming grin. "This conversation aint over sweetheart. I'll be right back." Graves assurs you before slipping out of the room.

Your heart thumps against your chest like it's due to burst at any moment. Your gaze stays transfixed on the door and you can hear Graves scolding whichever of his lackies dared interupt him just now.

Silence falls over the room again and you slide down the wall and back down to the floor.

"Oh fuck." You murmur to yourself, head in your hands as you try and regain your composure.

Somewhere outside, sirens start to blare throughout the compound as Ghost, Soap, and Rudy rally to take the base back. The trio locate where you and Alejandro are being held and begin their retrieval plan.

You are still sitting in the corner when the door swings open with force. You look up from your lap expecting to see Graves saunter in again but find Soap instead.

"YN!" Soap crosses the room in barely two strides.

"Soap!" You let out a shakey reply.

Soap leans down in front of you and helps you to your feet. He sets a hand on your shoulder and allows you a few seconds to calm yourself down.

"Are you alright? Did Graves do something to you?" Soap asks you.

"I'm okay, MacTavish." You shake your head and compose yourself. "Have you guys found Alejandro?" You ask him.

Soap nods, trusting that you wouldn't lie to him since the two of you have always been close. "Ghost and Rudy are getting him right now. Are you ready to go?" He asks, offering you a gun from the back of his vest.

"I'm good." You take the gun with a nod and prepare yourself for the fight to come.

A part of you wonders where Graves is at right now. You wonder if he's thinking about you at all. As delusional as that sounds.

Because it does sound delusional, right?

He's the enemy now.

Right?

Right.

[devil-in-hiding]

something something reader is a bartender at a popular little pub, and night after night you are hit on by men so plastered you often have to sigh and call over one of the guys you work with the idiots end up vomiting all over themselves (sometimes it’s worse than vomit but thankfully you can count those incidents on one hand)

you think by slipping on your grandmothers old wedding ring, it will sway men from hitting on you at work. And it does, there’s still some that try to test their luck, but the minute you flash that pearl on your finger they’re scurrying off to find their next target.

Cue four new regulars, four attractive military men that always flash you a polite smile and leave you a nice tip. Price comes in more than the others, claiming the stool near your register for himself, Ghost doing the same the rare nights he slinks into the pub. Soap and Gaz come in together some weekends, sitting themselves in front of you with big grins on their faces as they watch the game on the tv overhead.

They’re all sweet, a little cocky at times but nothing that one of their grins or sly remarks can’t make up for. They ask how their favorite girl is doing when they return from longer missions, genuinely listening as you fill them in on the things that have happened since they’ve been away.

Perfect gentlemen.

Until one night you forget your ring, having had to rush your shower and sprint out the door to make it to the pub before the nightly rush.

You filling glasses when you hear the chime of the bell and a familiar laugh fill the pub.

“Was wondering if I’d see you boys tonight.” You smile, motioning for them to give you a moment as you serve the other patrons.

When you slide back over to them, you immediately reach for their usual glasses, grabbing your cloth to wipe them off, when a hand clamps around your wrist and you jump, nearly dropping the glass as Ghost turns your hand over in his.

“Trouble at home pretty?” Price comments, concern etched on his face and it takes a moment for you to catch on, and you can’t help the little giggle that spills out.

“Oh! My ring… It’s kind of a funny story. I uhm.. I’m not actually married.” You laugh, expecting them to laugh along with you, but all you feel are four pairs of eyes piercing into you.

“Come again?” Gaz asks, voice a tad deeper than usual and you ignore the chills it sends down your spine.

“I started wearing it so some of the drunkards would leave me be, kind of forgot about it, just became habit.” You chuckle nervously, hand still in Ghost’s grasp and he’s eyeing you in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Hm. Interesting.”

[stargirlstabber]

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Ghost: I cut my finger Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better Ghost: That works? Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little *later* Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth Roach: Fucking finally

[itsoutrageouss]

Sitting on Simon’s face to shut him up?

It's when you think he gets too arrogant, too mouthy that you push Simon 'Ghost' Riley down by the shoulders. He could easily stop you and you both know it. But he welcomes it, a little taken aback by the sudden gesture but intrigued.

You had been arguing over yet another mission- he said you were too soft and sentimental, you said he was too cold and aloof. One day arguing had led to him hoisting you up against the wall and fucking you to prove a point. You guys hard argued a lot more since then.

He lets himself lay down on the bed, feet still planted on the ground. It takes you 0.1 second to slip off your panties under your skirt before you're crawling over him, climbing him like a tree and slowly sitting yourself down

You manage to catch his eyes before his face disappears under your skirt. You think it might be love, the way he looks up at you.

And it worked because he doesn't say a single thing- no protest or thanks. He just gets to work, hands curling around your thighs, opening his warm mouth for you and letting his tongue delve into your cunt. Eventually there's a groan of appreciation that sends shivers up and down your spine, making you arch and simultaneously press yourself down onto his mouth harder. He sticks his tongue out in response, urging you to move by yourself with a tug on your hips.

It had been a ridiculous discussion where he'd been praising his skills far too much and yours far too little- but it melted from your mind as you rocked your hips over his face, feeling his nose nudge your clit.

He mumbles against you, slobbering and sucking diligently -doing his duty- serving his apology with gentle sucks on your clit.

His eyes are closed tightly. What had you been arguing about? And why exactly hadn't you shut him up like this before? And would you pretty please do it again?

He feels you drip down his chin and onto his neck, his brow furrowing as he groans. He wanted to actually at you up, gently scraping his teeth on your sensitive clit as you cum all over his face. He was gonna piss you off more often now on purpose if this was how you'd punish him.

[deunmiu-dessie]

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

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒! ⁽ nsfw ⁾

[lvrsfilm]

Lieutenant Simon Riley has a favorite nurse. She's sweet as sugar and polite, stitching up every bloodied soldier with gentle words and touches so light they barely feel the push and pull of the suturing. Appreciative, whether they return the soft conversation or not. He likes the way she floats around the medical wing, the way she smiles softly at everyone, even him. He's sure she knows what he's been doing, but she isn't stopping him, so he assumes she doesn't mind.

Every morning, without fail she gets up and comes into the wing in a different colored pair of scrubs. A new color every day, never the same one twice in a week. She sits at the front desk or at another station somewhere around and sips a can of ginger ale through a straw, pretending she doesn't see Simon's eyes on her while she works.

"Wha's it t'day?" Simon says gruffly as he approaches her, bypassing the other nurses almost completely. "Blackberry," She says softly, looking up at him and displaying the can. He takes a look at her scrubs, and of course, they're a dark purple, matching the can. It suits her, he thinks. Not an obnoxious shade, one that matches her skin tone well. "Good?" He asks her, like he always does. "Not my favorite,' she says as she sets the can back down. He hums lowly in reply as his eyes linger on the fabric of her scrubs, the way the cloth dips over her soft curves.

"You hurt?" She asks him cheekily, "Or just taken an interest in the medical field?" He grunts, pulling his eyes away from her scrubs and meeting her own. "Nae," He says lowly. "Just passing by," he adds, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. Or reaching out to smooth out a wrinkle in her clothing, or tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

He doesn't know what else to say, wanting to keep her attention on him. "Suits ya," He ends up saying softly, trying to sound as gruff as possible, but his eyes are trained on hers, his hazel eyes staring into her own irises. "The purple." He grumbles, cursing inwardly because why is he acting like he's never spoken to a pretty bird before?

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She says sweetly, a nice red tinting the apples of her cheeks. Simon shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to say next. Small talk hasn't ever been his strong suit, but walking away feels wrong, like cutting a thread that’s barely started to weave.

"You sure you're alright?" she asks again, but this time there's something softer in her voice. A note of genuine curiosity, her hands stilling on her keyboard. "You don’t usually linger this long."

He scowls—not at her, but at himself for being so obvious. "Dinnae know I was bein’ timed," he mutters, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.

She chuckles, the sound low and warm. "You’re not. Just... noticed, is all." Her gaze flicks over him, quick and subtle, like she’s trying to piece him together without openly prying. She's familiar with Simon, knows how private he is. "Busy morning?"

He shrugs. "Same as usual. Training, Paperwork."

Her lips quirk upward in a faint smile, but there’s a shadow of worry behind her eyes. "Sounds like you could use a break."

"Aye," he says gruffly, a hand leaving his pocket to scratch at the base of his balaclava. "Reckon this is it."

Her smile softens at that, and for a moment, neither of them speaks. There’s a weight in the air, something unspoken that presses against his chest, and hers. He wants to say more, to keep her talking, but the words are tangled up in his throat.

"Y’know," she says after a pause, "I think purple might actually suit you too."

His brows furrow softly, squinting at her a bit behind the mask, and for a split second, he wonders if she’s teasing him. But her expression is sincere, her eyes glinting with a quiet kind of amusement.

"Me?" he scoffs, shaking his head. "Don’t reckon that’s in regulation."

She shrugs lightly, leaning against the desk. "Wouldn’t hurt to try. Maybe a mask or something. Just a little color." There’s a playful glint in her eyes now, and he feels the corner of his mouth twitch despite himself.

"Don’t think I’d pull it off," he mutters, though there’s a faint warmth creeping up his neck, hidden by the black fabric.

"I disagree," she says softly, and the weight of her gaze feels heavier than before. He looks at her then, really looks, and finds himself rooted to the spot.

"You always this cheeky with the patients?" he grumbles, trying to mask the fact that she’s gotten under his skin.

"Only the ones who hover around the nurses' station without a good excuse," she quips, her smile widening just a fraction. "But I don’t mind. You’re welcome anytime, Lieutenant."

His heart gives a traitorous thump at her words, but he swallows it down and grunts in reply. "I’ll hold ya to that," he says, his voice rougher than he intends.

As he turns to leave, her voice calls him back again, soft and lilting. "Oh, and Simon?"

He stops dead in his tracks. She’s never used his name before. Slowly, he turns his head to glance at her, his hazel eyes locking onto hers.

"Next time," she says, lifting her can of ginger ale in a mock toast, "you could at least bring one of these to share."

His lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. "Aye," he murmurs, his voice low. "I’ll see what I can do."

And as he walks out of the wing, he finds himself already wondering what color she’ll be wearing tomorrow.

[chamomiletealeaf]

Being so sensitive to squirting that the 141 make fun of your for it and have little competitions to see who can make you squirt the fastest :(

Johnny holds the record of 37 seconds from fingering you so fast you couldn’t tell when his fingers were inside or out of you.

After their little competition your poor pussy was so swollen and sensitive that all it took was a few rough spanks to your pussy from Price to make you squirt again.

“Oh well look at that? Seems we got a new record holder hm?” Price teases you and Johnny.

“That doesn’t count the competition is over!” Johnny exclaims angrily at Price.

Meanwhile Simon and Gaz are fucking rock hard from watching you squirt again so quickly.

[dumbbitchgalore]

John Price is a muncher.

And that is a fact.

Old Man!Price on the other hand is a devourer.

This man has got so much practice under his belt that he has no reason to boast about his sex life and skill to anyone. So when you decide to give him a chance seemingly bored with the recurring playboys that you're dated coupled with your inclination for older men, Price didn't seem like a bad option.

Sure he's given up trying to dye his hair, letting the grey strands sprout from his head and beard, and he's developed a pudgy body that puts he's once muscular physique and brute strength to shame but he makes that all up with his skill.

Old habits die hard, and John's thirst to satisfy a willing vunt has never really been satiated in his life time. And your obedient cunt makes his addiction ten times worse than it was.

You'll be squealing under him, begging, pleading for a break but his hold on you never lets up.

John will simply chuckle, stuff his nose into your sopping, warm pussy, inhaling the scent like it was a god-mandated order only for him to go back to lapping at your cunt like the bastard he is.

He won't let go, not until he's had his fill.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)

Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.

“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.

Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.

You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.

So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.

“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.

Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.

“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.

You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.

The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”

They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.

[bruhhxiao]

KISSES

You finished night chores in the kitchen after dinner and Simon was laying in bed “enjoying” Manchester match alone, since you were too loud 🙄

Once you get in bed too you toke a look at the screen.

“Unlucky one?” You say softly sitting next to him, he was grumpy, so you kissed him.

He signed not kissing you back, so you give him two more but he leans his head on the side ignoring you.

“C’mon the match is over.”

“No, it’s not. 3 minutes left.” He says pushing your head out of the way.

You kissed him again and again and then again, leaving sweet pecks on his lips. The match was over and he was listening to the after match conference.

“So you’re into this old man more than me? Give me one kiss!” He sighed and bought his lazy hand behind your head pulling you down for a short stamp.

“One more…” You say leaning closer and he kisses you back.

“A bit more…” as you said that he pulls you in a passionate kiss, a slow one.

After you broke the kiss and try to sit back like before, he grabs your arm pulling you down next to him kissing you a few times as he slowly positions himself on top of you.

“Simon it’s already 11:00 pm- Mhh~” he cuts you off.

“Now you got me in the mood, so shut up” he said with his nose against yours looking into your loving eyes before kissing you passionately.

[dmitriene]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

main masterlist. quidelines.

[devil-in-hiding]

pregnant!assistant reader who suddenly finds her boss and his team moving into her home, Price immediately upping the security system and locks around the house

Simon starts on the nursery, letting you sit in the nice big rocking chair you picked out, bossing him around on how you want the walls painted

Kyle and Johnny start working on baby proofing until your house is the safest place a baby could be, and you still had 7 months till they were here

Kyle would be the most willing to go out to the shops when late night cravings hit, it also makes him your favorite for the next 24 hours because “he was sweet enough to go get my pickles!”

“pretty you have two other jars-“

“i wanted SPICY pickles John!”

however these men are total messes when it comes to the hormones, the first time you burst into tears, crying about “simon raising his voice at you”, all he had done was scold you for trying to use the stepladder

[meteraa]

Price: What’s your type Y/n.

Y/N: Traumatized men with fat tits that have breeding kinks.

Price: I mean your— you know what never mind.

Simon: *glares*

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Price: Has anyone seen Ghost and Y/N? *all at once* Soap: They're joking around Roach: They're arguing Gaz: They're making out Everyone: Soap: Uh when I saw them like 20 minutes ago they were joking around together and laughing outside the mess Roach: Well when I saw them like 10 minutes ago they were throwing hands and pointing fingers at each other, like viciously arguing over something Gaz: Well when I passed them by literally 5 minutes ago they were very heatedly making out against the Lieutenant's office door Price: Yeah that sounds about right

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[TF141 with A Reader That Can Fall Asleep Anywhere and Anytime]

Price’s heart skips a beat when he steps into the bedroom and sees your legs on the bed while the rest of your body just dangles from the edge of the bed.

He manhandles you back onto the bed and kisses you goodnight, but his poor heart gets surprised again when he goes to the bathroom in the morning and is welcomed by the sight of you dangling your legs on the edge of the empty bathtub this time and body lies in the tub.

He picks you up and you stir, murmuring that you were brushing your teeth when he asks you why you’re sleeping in the tub, and then drift back to dream in his arms with the toothbrush in your hand.

Soap is too used to your weird sleeping habit, so when he comes home and sees you lying with your head on the couch but hanging your legs over the back of the couch, he just scoffs a laugh and carries you to bed.

“Hey Johnny” you mumble when you feel him put you on the bed.

“go back to sleep” He kisses you and goes to shower, and when he finishes and goes back to your side, he shakes his head in disbelief when he finds you lying horizontally even though he just adjusted your position into a normal human one 5 minutes ago.

Gaz wakes up in the morning and walks to the living room just to witness you standing but bend over the kitchen counter, he almost thinks you’re dead and the haziness in his mind just vanishes in a second.

���babe wake up!” he knows you’re alive but still checks if you are breathing as he wakes you up.

“goo morni kyl I -&&:@/“ and he only watches you straight up for a greeting and then slump onto the counter to sleep again, while the tea you make is beside you.

Ghost

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks when you two sit together in front of the desk, he's using his laptop while you’re reading.

“What you want for dinner love?” He says again when he doesn’ t get a response from you.

“Love?”

He turns to face you after another silence, and finally, he discovers why you're so quiet, because you fall asleep while resting your head on your hand.

He grins while taking out his phone and records you, and (luckily) he captures your head slips out of your palm and slams your face on your book as you are totally unfazed and keep snoring.