maxismp1

[maxismp1]

A/B/O Government Appointed Wife!Reader

Art from This Post and This Post

Alternate Universe Masterlist

In a world where military soldiers are forcibly paired up with partners to produce more soldiers, König is paired with an omega O, and has to deal with the new changes in his life.

Intro

My Ever Empty Bed

An Olive Branch Among Thorns

Declivities

Two Can Play At That Game

To Market to Market to Buy a Fat Hog

Aren't You Tired Yet?

I Sit With You And Cry For What Could Have Been

The House is Burning, and Everyone is Laughing and Smiling [1] [2]

[maxismp1]

CoD (?) idea

I rewatched the original Mulan, and I got some ideas. 

Maybe not in the Ancient Asia setting, but in Ancient Rome. Maybe influenced by a myth of Hades and Persephone (juuust a bit). 

Also, I feel like it would kind of fit with characters from CoD (?), so...

yandere!romangeneral!Ghost/König x crossdressing!AFAB!reader

tw: yandere, obsessive behaviour, crossdressing, Ancient Roman AU

Not proofread. Author does not endorse nor condone any of the actions depicted in real life. Also, English is not the author's first language, so there might be some mistakes. Please remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption. 

Now imagine this. 

The General of the army. A stoic man (Ghost/Konig?), around 30 years old. He's got a huge record of battles won, of armies defeated, so even the Emperor (Price) respects him. He could have everything he wants by retiring back to Rome, but he feels there's nothing in the mundane for him, so he returns to the battlefield every single time.

On the other side, there is…

That young girl who left home and cut her hair to protect her sick male relative (maybe not her father, but a brother??? doesn't matter). She bandages her chest, dealing with the terrible pain every time, and doesn't recognize her own reflection in the river when she sees her short hair instead of her long locks.

The General trains the new soldiers personally.

And he doesn't understand what's wrong with this one newbie. 

This soldier's skin is too soft, and his facial features seem too delicate. He is weaker in strength but manages to make a good showing in mock battles thanks to his agility and swiftness. He looks smaller and sicker than the others and something rises in a man's heart. Underneath his tunic too.

The General has never been drawn to men before, but he is madly attracted to this little soldier, whose laugh is more like the sound of little bells, and whose voice itself is the sound of a harp. Who has hands so small and nimble compared to his own big and rough paws. 

Driven by his madness, he is roaming the camp at night and notices his small soldier fleeing into the forest thicket.

An overnight date? 

Something ugly stirred in the general's chest. So, like a skillful warrior, he follows the newbie and comes out to the river, where he doesn't see anybody beside… 

…

…a gorgeous little nymph basking in the cold waters, under the watchful eye of Diana.

The gentle slope of her spine shimmered where the river kissed her waist. Her soft, sun-kissed, moist skin glistens in the pale moonlight. Breasts soft, rising slowly with each breath. Hips like the curve of amphora. The sight leaves no doubts. 

A gentle, sweet dove disguised as a ferocious hawk. 

The sweet soldier that had been making him crazy all this time turned out to be a magnificent maiden. And oh the Great Zeus, since the gods had provided him with such a gift, who was he to refuse?

He leisurely steps out from behind the tree that concealed his massive figure.

"You wear lies better than armor, little one."

She turns around horrified.

hehe Should I consider writing this as a oneshot?...

red.: Okay, I’m def writing this.

also I’m kinda gay (jk, I fucking love women. any size, any shape. gimme that beautiful body and imma worship it like a woman starved)

ahem

so maybe

Athena!Valeria x Worshipper!reader in the same AU?

[maxismp1]

Special training*?

The second post!This is my art from 2024,so the style will be different from now!!I will slowly move all the old arts and post them<3

[maxismp1]

this post is just objectification I should be ashamed of myself….

[maxismp1]

[maxismp1]

cw: fluff, cowgirl afab reader x ghost, grumpy x sunshine, clumsy reader

HEADCANON: the team meets Ghost’s little bird

PAIRING: Simon Riley x reader

It all started when Soap, half-joking -- not really -- asked over a pint of that terrible guinness that one of the recruits mentioned that he voiced out a lingering thought out loud,

"So, Ghost. Ye ever gonna introduce us to yer missus? Or is she just some hallucination ye made up tae wind us up aye?"

Ghost, who had never confirmed nor denied anything about his personal life, simply shrugged. "Pub. Friday. Seven."

Soap thought he was joking.

At exactly Friday, seven-fucking-pm though. Soap. Soap realized he was wrong.

They met at a grimy pub near base. Price was wary. Gaz looked openly curious. Soap just looked excited, because how normal could Ghost’s wife possibly be? Some goth lady with a death glare? A sniper with a scar over her eye? A shadow in human form?

None of the above.

What actually walked in was—

A tiny woman in a beat-up leather jacket, dusty denim jeans, a battered cowboy hat tilted low over her messy braid. Coupled with a pair of cracked leather boots that clomped across the floor like she owned the place.

Holy shit

She looked like she could ride a bull, shoot a rifle, and kiss you breathless — not necessarily in that order.

She waved frantically the moment she spotted them though — knocking over a chair and nearly tripping over her own boots as she did.

"HEY, SI" she yelled across the entire bar.

Ghost — stoic, terrifying, 6'4" Ghost — immediately straightened in his seat like a teenager seeing his crush. He actually moved. Stood up. Went to meet her halfway like she was the only thing that existed.

Soap’s jaw was physically on the table.

This tiny woman. Small. Wiry. Sun-kissed and with the greatest pair of tits Soap has ever seen immediately launched herself into Ghost’s arms like a missile. He caught her easily -- of course -- one hand on her lower back, the other ruffling her tousled brown hair with ridiculous tenderness.

Leaning down to let her smack a kiss right onto the cloth of his mask like she couldn’t give a single shit about what people thought.

She yanked the brim of his hat down over his eyes — wait! when had he gotten a hat?? — and laughed that big, reckless, wild West laugh that turned every head in the pub.

The team stared in horror and awe.

"This can’t be real," Gaz muttered. "I’m dreaming. I died in Syria."

"She's so small," Soap whispered back, scandalized. "And she’s—she’s—hot??"

They made it back to the table, Ghost’s hand resting casually on her hip like a leash.

When they made it back to the table, she shoved Ghost into a chair, plopped herself onto his lap without ceremony, and grinned at the rest of them.

"Howdy, boys," she said, tipping her hat.

Soap almost cried.

She was absolute chaos. Stole the darts right out of the wall and challenged Soap to a game ("loser buys shots, city boy" "'m from Scotland, lass" "Cattle country ain't like sheep country, sugar" "we have cows. They moo too").

Gaz: "You're so fucking stupid mate"

Soap: "Shut it aye?"

Flirted shamelessly with Ghost across the table — calling him "sugar," "cowboy," and "my big strong man" with zero shame in her Southern-twanged voice. Told Price he looked like a "sheriff with a broken heart."

Somehow wrangled Ghost into a pool match where she used him as her pool cue guide — pressed up against him, his huge hands guiding hers, while she winked at the others over her shoulder.

Ghost never smiled. Never joked. Never talked much. But with her? He was... different.

Softer. More human. Maybe even a little helpless, the poor bastard.

Price, to his credit, kept a straight face. Barely.

Soap, meanwhile -- after losing to her on those stupid darts and took on the challenge of guzzling down the said shots -- was vibrating with suppressed laughter.

She was chaos. Pure, distilled chaos — loud, funny, mean, fun, but also wildly affectionate. She stole a chip off Gaz and a stranger's plate without asking. Shooed off two creeps with a death glare who wouldn’t stop pestering the girls at the counter. Challenged the bouncer -- a hulking and massive bloke -- to arm wrestle and actually fucking won! Spent half an hour helping to take pictures of an old couple on a vacation to send to their grandkids. And started a chant for Price to shotgun a beer (he declined, though grimly but... endeared).

And through all of it, Ghost just... watched her. Silent. Steady. The same way he’d scan a perimeter — except more devoted. Soap swearing that he could even see him smile behind the mask.

At one point, she tugged on his sleeve and whispered something in his ear that made him let out a genuine, low chuckle. An actual laugh. Gaz's drink came out of his nose at that and Soap almost passed out from the shock.

By the end of the night, they were all completely obsessed with her.

(And slightly terrified. She challenged another guy twice her size to a pull-up contest and won.)

As they stumbled out of the pub, she looped an arm around Ghost’s waist and shouted, "THIS IS MY HUSBAND! HE’S BIGGER THAN YOUR HUSBAND!" at absolutely no one.

Ghost didn’t even blink. Just tugged her closer and murmured, "Alright, birdie. Inside voice yeah?."

"YOU LOVE ME BABY," she hollered back.

"Yeah," he said simply, not caring who heard. "I do."

And if anyone at the pub dared to stare — well, nobody wanted to make eye contact with a man wearing a skull mask who looked like he could bench-press a car and the woman who looked like she could drive said car through you and still smile while doing it.

Soap later: "Lass is unhinged aye?." Gaz: "You’re just mad she drank you under the table, mate." Price: "I like her. She’s good for him." Soap: "Naw, like... she’s pure mental. He’s just as daft. It’s a match made in hell, I’m tellin' ye.

Ghost, hearing them gossip: (Just shrugs.) "I like her loud. Makes it easier to find her."

masterlist

[maxismp1]

Aye

Favorite color: wine red

Last song : bez koda - buba koreli I jale brat

Current read : lights out 😏

Current watch: what we do in the shadows and magnificent century

Current craving : teriyaki chicken and fried rice with soya so use

Coffe or tea: coffe for life!!

@gothghostiie @goaskangel @whimsyvixen

get to know your moots tag game ! ✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

favorite color ꕀ green and brown last song ꕀ tú by maye currently reading ꕀ the luminaries by susan dennard currently watching ꕀ the great british baking show currently craving ꕀ massaman curry. like always. and like. alcohol and a couple cigs HAHA. a break too :P coffee or tea ꕀ always tea! i don't like coffee

ty for the tag @saltcxrcle ! tagging: @lelapine @toadspondofwhimsy @outof-spite @h0neyst4rz @hhoneylemon @our-lady-of-venom

[maxismp1]

I need.

john price who retired from the task force and now is a porn actor

[maxismp1]

price making simon edge himself with your thighs as punishment for being unable to keep his hands off you while price was gone :(

godfddd yes.

you’re just a collateral damage in this. you would even argue that you’re the one who is suffering more than the bastard who’s actually the one being punished—simon’s heavy and thick cock is rubbing against your slick slit with every desperate thrust between your thighs—but you’re so angry that you can barely be coherent anymore.

you’re begging john for anything. maybe your wand or for john to allow simon to play with your clit or even john himself to fill your throat just to take the edge away from the muted brush of pleasure. you want anything to alleviate the thrum, but john just grunts, telling you to be quiet—please kid? f’me?—and you don’t know why you’re just realizing it now.

john’s angry at you too. this is your punishment just as much as it is simon’s.

what the fuck.

he said—

he said that he’s not mad! he even pulled you to his lap and fingered you open and told you to be patient because he’ll fuck you good but it’s been hours now, surely. your thighs are a wet mess of your slick and simon’s pre-, and you’re barely lucid with want when you realize, with mounting horror, that john’s yet to even look at you when he passed you over to simon.

you hiccup, hitting simon’s chest with your fists. this is your fault, you big oaf.

simon barely reacts as he continues to hump his hips so filthily, the meat of his thighs hitting your own with a wet slap. he’s so wound up that he’s lost the rhythm; his thrusting has become erratic, his cock leaking a puddle on your crotch.

not even your sobs have softened both of your lovers, and it’s so unfair. you don’t even know if you can even cum soon at this point.

[maxismp1]

I'd tap that

🪓

[maxismp1]

[maxismp1]

tf 141 as police officers anyone? dubcon, afab!reader

this was not how you wanted to spend your weekend.

you'd graciously agreed to go out for your friend's bachelorette party. she'd all but begged you to be there for her last night of freedom, so how could you not show up for her? now, though, after three too many shots and sitting in the drunk tank of the local police station, you were beginning to wish you'd stayed curled up on your couch.

you weren't even entirely sure what had happened. one moment, you were walking to your next bar, your body floating along with the crowd. the next, your friends were catcalling some random men across the street and the red and blue lights started flashing in your periphery.

the officers that arrested you had been nice enough, you supposed. they were understanding of your situation, but not understanding enough to let you out of a public intoxication charge. the more senior one, captain price, had given you your own police car away from your friends after you'd complained about your head pounding. if he copped a feel as he helped you into the seat, no one but the two of you had to know.

his sergeant, garrick, chatted you up as you rode the couple of minutes to the local jail. he was friendly, conversational, if a bit flirtatious. you weren't sure a cop was supposed to compliment a prisoner's hair or the way her dress showed off her tits so much.

but the two cops serving as jail wardens were by far the worst. sergeant mactavish had been the one to book you in, taking your fingerprints and filling out the necessary paperwork to cite you. inhibitions lowered by the copious amounts of vodka you'd been talked into consuming, you told him his tattoos made him look hot. he seemed to take that as a green light, murmuring in your ear about how bonnie you were the whole time he was booking you.

lieutenant riley just unnerved you. you could see him staring through the window of the thick metal door, the bars not deterring him one bit. clearly, he could see as much as he needed to. he hadn't stopped staring since he'd thrown you into the cell.

your friends had taken notice too, the way the officers seemed to take a liking to you. the group of them hatched a clever, albeit drunken, plan to use you as bait to escape. if you were completely in your right mind, you would've refused without a second thought. however, fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, it sounded genius to your alcohol-logged brain.

you sauntered up to the door, standing on your tiptoes to bring your chest into view. you put on your best pout, holding the bars of the small window. "sergeant johnny?" you slurred, your fingers dancing suggestively along the length of the bars. "me and my friends are thirsty. can you and your friend get us some water?"

the giggles of the girls behind you let you know how good your performance was, and you put on the best flirtatious smile you could muster while drunk. the two officers looked at each other, seeming to contemplate for a moment, before they both came directly to your cell. the heavy door swung open, hinges squeaking.

"why don' ya come with us, troublemaker?" mactavish purred, crooking his finger at you. his lieutenant stood behind him, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"we can give ya just wha' ya need."

[maxismp1]

lettin virgy simon get between your legs 👅

his blunt nails skitter up over your thighs, grabbing and pulling at the soft fat braced over your hipbones. he’s forcing and bending you into a melting mess, pressuring you into different angles, letting his lips suckle you up sweetly.

“s-slow, simon, calm down.” you gasp, pressing the heel of your palm into the top of his skull. body going shrill when his inexperienced tongue licks and sharp teeth snag and bite. fingertips spreading and kneading.

n he pulls away from you, a lewd “pop” and a pretty, glistening string of spit follow him. n his breath is shallow and heavy, chest heaving as he catches up to his racing heart, brain fuzzy from lack of oxygen.

he pulls his hands away, letting them rest easy on the sheets. “i-im sorry, mama,” he whispers, glossy eyes looking up at you. “i’ll be gentle, i’m sorry.”

that’s all my horniess for right now guys sorry 💔

[maxismp1]

LMAO I LOVE THAT THIS ISN’T JUST A RUN OF THE MILL MOMENT EITHER THIS IS AFTER JASON FUCKED UP AND SHOT/KILLED ANOTHER PERSON AND HE KNOWS HE’S IN DEEP SHIT BUT HE STILL GREETS BRUCE LIKE “FUCK OFF, VAMPIRE DAD” AS IF HE ISN’T IN DEEP SHIT, HELP HE’S THE WORST, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

[maxismp1]

Roommate!Simon Riley who learns the names of your stuffed animals. Quietly sitting on your bed as you introduce them, gaze locked on the soft stuffie in your hands. every time you pick a new one up his eyes stay on the previous one for a few seconds before trailing back to you. he gives the occasional nod, a gruff hum when you tell him where you got it from. he forgets to speak sometimes, seemingly dull gaze boring into you. he sits up a little straighter when you start to glance away thinking he’s lost interest, but no, “Does tha’ one get along with the big fella?”

Roommate!Simon Riley who wants you to talk about your plushies and knickknacks. he likes listening to you talk, listening to your voice, watching the way you gently handle your stuffed animals. it reminds him of the rare plush or two he had growing up, gnarly and hidden away somewhere forgotten, tucked away in a dusty box. they made him feel safe when he was little, something to hold onto, and seeing you carefully arrange yours makes his chest feel lighter. heart a little achy when you let him hold one in his calloused, rough hands. soft, thumb grazing over the fabric, smoothing over stitching

Roommate!Simon Riley who brings you a stuffed animal after he goes to the store alone. he’s learned your preference towards them, too plush, too firm, not the right material - a texture you can’t hold for long, he knows what to avoid. he doesn’t feel embarrassed standing in the kids aisle sifting through brightly colored toys, but he does feel some eyes on him. but it’s for you, and a little bit for him. “Simon, you didn’t have to—”, he silently loves when you say that, gives him the opportunity to respond, “Wanted to.”. he wants to make your day, add to your collection, see you smile and love on it. gives him an excuse to go back to your room and introduce the newbie

Roommate!Simon Riley who misses you when he has to leave on deployments. he knows you miss his presence, even when he scares you by not making himself known. that you miss the way he fills your apartment, bulky figure padding around from room to room. “Got ya this. Don’t miss me too much.”, as he hands you a new stuffed animal before he leaves. one that feels holdable, something you can cuddle with and squish. one with a recorded message, Simon’s gravely voice coming from the comically cute stuffie. he doesn’t look you in the eyes, hands shoved in his pockets as he stands in the doorway, “And don’t think that’s replacin’ me.”

“Thinkin’ of you, lovie.”, a small pause in the recording, his voice a little softer, “Take care of yourself.”

[maxismp1]

anal with Graves but he’s using his Southern charm by cooing at you with faux sympathy, “I know, sweetheart, I know— need me t’wipe those pretty tears, darlin’?”

mach you will be the death of me someday

graves pounding into your (now not so) tight pucker, your ankles on his shoulders while his arms are wrapped around your thighs, hes genuinely so hard from seeing you cry while taking him in such a deep, intimate place

he really, really doesnt want to hurt you but the sight of you all snotty and sobbing while gasping every time he bottims out? the glimmer of hope when he gives you false sympathy?? he really really hopes youll forgive him for making you unable to sit down properly

[maxismp1]

URGENT DO NOT SCROLL READ THIS PLEASE PLEASE

Tagging my moots so you can see this idk if it's real or not but better safe than sorry

@ohemgeeejay @ohemgeeejay @akiastar24 @afteas2003 @amenaceofagoose @readingismyhobby24 @manyfandomfanatic @melancholygal @munamarvel13 @peachzffs @plusultrayokai @write-with-will @where-is-the-angst @writersblock4eternity @theonetheonlyyogurt @totallynotalana @telugu-girl-13 @rybloodandfire @i-love-zelda-16 @icantseefornothing @dr3am-caf3 @d0llescent @finleyforevermore @jadetheblueartist @jadethebluereblogs @krystalzkrystal @lantry @cabbagewizard @cryo-and-condescension @bored-all-the-time-14 @bookwormgirl123 @n4ncyfi1ml0ver @nxbii

Stay safe yall you might wanna turn off send images in the asks or something