doeidawn

[doeidawn]

Overstim with the 141

John is full of encouragement. His large hands caressing and pulling you in the most divine ways. He’ll hold you close, slowly thrusting into you during your second orgasm, forehead to forehead.

“So pretty honey, know you can give me another.”

“Love you so much, just fuckin- fuck- made for me, fuckin proud of you.”

He’ll plant such tender kisses on your lips, you can’t help but melt and shudder around him. He’ll continue praising you after, cumming himself just from getting you off.

Simon on the other hand, he’s getting that orgasm out of you whether you think you can or not. A bully. Rubbing your puffy clit till your withering and sobbing on his dick. Might stick a finger in your stuffed heat for good measure. He’ll suck on your earlobe, then make his way down your jaw. Finally creaming all over him just how he wanted.

“See? Wasnt that fuckin hard, was it luvie?”

“Pretty little cunt just needed a little guidance, huh birdie?”

Gaz, just has to talk you through it. Dirty talker at heart. Wont shut the fuck up. Definitely has your arms pinned behind your back, enjoying the perfect view of of your cheeks rippling every time he drags his length out and then rams it back in your sopping walls.

“Shit, sweetheart, look at how well you’re taking me. Pussy wont let me go, needs me right, here, yeah?”

“Shh, shhhh, listen angel. You hear all that? That’s allll you, fucking soaking me to my balls. You can give me another, show me how good you are.”

Soap, the idiot, will overstimulate himself while overstimulating you. You’re fucking shaking, telling him to take a fucking break but he’s pussy drunk. So pussy drunk, that even the idea of him pulling out of your tight pussy makes tears well up in his eyes, rambling, whimpering, pleading—

“Cannae get enough of ye bonnie, god, ‘nd ya want me gone? Not like this lass, ma ears ‘re shot. I can’t- ungh- why are ye suckin me like this, Christ-“

“Soo good- hnngh- too good- need you dove. Please, please cum, just once more! I swear, I promise-“

The fool, fucking you both dumb till he’s shooting blanks, cum leaking out of your overstuffed cunt, leaking down his thighs and he’s passed out, still inside you. Don’t worry! He’ll do it over again tomorrow :)

a/n: good morning, sluts, countryfolk, and working babes— lend me your ears!!!

most recent masterlist

[doeidawn]

simon didn't even say anything when you asked, he just complied.

"shh– 's okay, baby," he sushes your cries, hand brushing your cheek but his eyes are glued to where you two are connected. "i'm– shit— i'm halfway in already."

"halfway?!" you whine, and both of you giggle at the notion. well, nobody told you to ask your best friend to fuck you with his huge dick. "hate you, simon," you gasp, all bark and no bite.

he kisses your pouty lips, moaning at the way the movement makes him slip a bit deeper in you. "hm, tha' so, luv?"

no, you don't. he knows it and you know it, it only gets more obvious when he's bottoming out with a thumb on your clit and you're coming around him. he can only coo at you, "fuckin' hell– hate me, ya said?" slowly fucking into you. "don't think–" he's cut off but his own moan, you're still clenching around him as you come down from your orgasm. "don't think so, baby."

[doeidawn]

and would yall be mad if i start introducing TLOU content on this blog.........

[doeidawn]

the thought of price being all cocky and smug with you during foreplay because he’s got you a cumming mess. dirty talking right up to the moment he sinks into your cunt then suddenly doesn’t know how to talk at all.

“How’s that— (jaw clenching) fuck.”

“Take me so— (head falling onto your shoulder) yeah.”

[doeidawn]

warm up doodle of my wife

[doeidawn]

captain soap mactavish come back home the kids miss u

[doeidawn]

18+ MDNI — f!reader

CW!!! implied non-consentual activity. he's kinda an asshole

imagine hanging out with soap after his most recent fling decided to leave him. it’s not like he’s all that torn up about it, but he’d asked for your company and, well, the good friend you were wouldn’t turn that down.

so you go to his place, keep him company. “i’m here for you, whatever you need,” you told him. and you meant it when you said it, but maybe that’s because you didn't realize how serious he’d take it.

the next thing you know, he’s got his hands all over you. innocent touches on your thigh turn greedy as he squeezes the plush of your skin between his fingers. he’s groping every inch of you he can reach, sneaking a hand under your shirt when you don’t expect it to feel your soft stomach under his calloused palm. he groans a filthy sound in your ear when he cups the weight of your tits in his hands and tells you how he’s always wanted to feel them.

so you’ll let him touch you, right? you have to—you said you’d provide him whatever he needed. and right now, he needed something soft in his hands and warm around his dick

so you don’t need to question it when he gets you under him, practically folded in half with those strong hands pushing your knees to your chest. the harsh snap of his hips makes you wince pathetically at the intrusion of his thick cock. soap didn’t care. all he cared about was how hot and wet and tight you were. just like he knew you’d be.

a cruel mix of selfishness and irritation drives the rough and hard thrusts that spear his dick deep inside. he’s mocking your gasps and the confused look on your face—“what’s wrong? y’said you’d help me out, aye? thought you meant it.”

when all you can respond with is a whimper borne from the force of his cock kissing your cervix, he just laughs.

[doeidawn]

cw: pure smut lol, missionary, Price is built like a big sexy lumberjack, 18+!!

John is so big and burly that when he has you in missionary, your inner thighs burn from how wide they’re spread to accompany him. He tries to make it better by propping your legs up on his shoulders and leans forward so you’re tummy to tummy, knees hiked up to your chest with all of his weight on you and he hits so much deeper which dissolves the pain into intense pleasure and it’s just so overwhelming ‘cause you know you can’t run from him…and he smells so good—like musk, settled cologne and the faint ashes of his expensive cigars….. ughghhhhgh

[doeidawn]

simon riley who's a nasty, nasty dog

simon riley who rips his pants off the second he's through the door, already bulging painfully in his cotton jeans. without a word, he yanks his pants down, his cock springing free with a dribble of pre. he grabs you by the scruff of your neck, rubbing himself all over your cheeks and lips, making them glisten. "this what y'been waiting for, huh? dirty fuckin' slag." he flips you onto your back, his strength overwhelming as he hangs your head off the edge of the bed, positioning you perfectly and shoving his cock down your throat, watching it stretch as he thrusts.

"look at ya, takin’ it like y'made for it." when he finally pulls out, your lips are swollen, your throat raw, but he’s not done. he fists his cock just to paint your face with hot ropes of cum. with one rough hand, he grips your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. be leans in, licking his own release from your cheeks before leaning over you and spitting it onto your cunt.

"spread 'em. only made t' take this cock. ain't that right sweetheart?"

[doeidawn]

SERGEANT KYLE GARRICK | CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE (2019)

[doeidawn]

Love love loooove the whole ‘you’re dating one but surprise, he’s a package deal’ trope for Ghoap but something about it with SoapGaz is so good. Your hot boyfriend Gaz and his single friend who won’t stop third-wheeling your dates.

Begs you to all go out together so he doesn’t have to go alone and suddenly he’s buzzing between the two of you, desperately kissing you both with tongue and teeth.

[doeidawn]

omg so sorry for the radio silence for the past two months or so. living in the US sucks and i have had like 0 motivation to write lately despite having like ten WIPs

on the bright side my bday is in a week. hoping i find some motivation soon bc i miss posting on here </3 but i hope all of you are doing well !!

[doeidawn]

Poly141 who have to take serious thought over what order people get to fuck you in. they obviously cant all fuck you in one night as it's just to much for your poor little cunt to take (and trust me they've tried) so they've gotta put serious thought into who's fucking you tonight and in what order.

they know from experience that Price cant go first as his main focus during sex is your pleasure over his so, by the time he's done with you your too overstimulated to take anymore.

Ghost is way too big to go first and if he does he's gotta spend a chunk of that time stretching out your tight little cunt on his thick fingers before he can even think about bullying his cock inside of you.

Soap cums way too quickly for him to even begin to stretch you out for the others, you aren't even able to reach an orgasm yourself before hot thick ropes of his cum are shooting inside of you.

and Gaz likes to take his time with you, to tease you, to fill you with pleasure and just when you're at your breaking point he rips it away, causing you to whine out as your body squirms underneath him. now this wouldn't be a big deal if he didn't have multiple other men waiting to get their fill. and making them wait for something they so desperately desire isn't the best idea (again another thing they know from experience)

So, it's really quite a struggle for these men to come up with a solution for an order. I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually.

I haven't proof read yet so i apologise for mistakes <3

[doeidawn]

I've got a weak spot for men with dead fish eyes, and '09 Ghost happens to fall under this category quite nicely

[doeidawn]

Filthy Dog

MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader

Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”

You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you. 

You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.

“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.

“No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”

“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?” 

Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”

Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”

Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot. 

“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?” 

he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.” 

Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight. 

“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.

A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.

You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.

 “Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.

Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.

“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.

“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave. 

“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”

You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!” 

“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”

-

Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?” 

“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”

“He’s not-”

The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.

God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him. 

Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”

“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.

”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?” 

Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.” 

“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him. 

Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out. 

Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips. 

He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest. 

You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up. 

He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.

The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.

A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.

As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.

Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed. 

You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body. 

His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react. 

You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs.  -

You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.

You nodded.

“Good.” he sighed.

[doeidawn]

cw: sexual tension, explicit sexual imagery, unspoken desire, power dynamics, mild language.

feat. johnny mactavish & simon riley x reader

simon didn’t usually indulge in these thoughts—thoughts of you. johnny’s girl. his best mate’s girl. but he wasn’t blind, and he sure as hell wasn’t unaffected. the way you smiled, the way your laugh lit up a room, the way you seemed so effortlessly you. it gnawed at him, deep down where he thought feelings had long since withered.

he wasn’t jealous. simon didn’t do jealous. not of johnny, at least. they were brothers in all but blood. but sometimes he wondered—why him? why not me? he’d never admit it, not to himself, not to anyone.

johnny saw it, though. that knowing glint in his eye every now and then, a smirk that told simon his thoughts weren’t as secret as he liked to believe. still, johnny never said a word, and simon never gave him reason to.

until tonight.

johnny’s text was casual enough: “swing by my quarters. need to talk.”

simon didn’t hesitate, pulling his mask on and heading down the hall. the base was quiet, dimly lit, the kind of stillness that settled late at night. but as he neared johnny’s door, the quiet was broken by something else.

soft moans, muffled but unmistakable, filtered through the gap in the door—slightly ajar.

simon stopped. his chest tightened, a flicker of something dangerous sparking to life inside him. he knew he should turn around, walk away, pretend he hadn’t heard a damn thing. but his feet didn’t listen.

the moans grew louder as he moved closer, and before he could stop himself, his gloved hand pushed the door open just enough to see.

and there you were.

you were sprawled beneath johnny, your body trembling with every thrust. your head was thrown back, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, soft whimpers spilling from your lips.

“..fuck, bonnie,” johnny groaned, his voice low and rough. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you tighter against him.

simon’s breath caught in his throat. he knew he shouldn’t be looking, knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

johnny’s head tilted suddenly, his gaze snapping up to meet simon’s through the crack in the door.

and he smirked.

a lazy, knowing smirk that sent a bolt of heat straight through simon.

he didn’t stop, didn’t falter. instead, he leaned down, murmuring something in your ear that made you cry out, your legs tightening around his waist.

simon stumbled back, his hand gripping the doorframe as he fought to steady himself.

he left without a word, his footsteps echoing in the hallway, his pulse hammering in his ears.

he hated himself for it—for the way his body reacted, for the way his mind kept replaying the sound of your moans, the look on johnny’s face.

but most of all, he hated that johnny knew.

and didn’t care.

[doeidawn]

before the year turns over (for me at least) i just wanted to make a quick post to say thank u to everyone who's interacted and supported my work this past year !! i didn't think many ppl would care for the stuff i wrote. every little bit of support means the world to me. thank you all, and here's to 2025 <3