mondaysoct - Tumblr blog

[mondaysoct]

gaz is the type of man who keeps eye contact with you when you're talking, he makes sure you know that he's hanging on to every word you're saying as if it were scripture; he makes you feel like the most important person in the room. gaz is the type of man who silences his phone when it rings, telling you to continue what you are saying, that you're more important than a call. gaz is the type of man who doesn't just passively nod and agree with you; no he asks questions, gives advice, and is genuinely invested in what you're talking about. gaz is the type of man who in his presence, makes it known that you are the center of his universe.

[mondaysoct]

Advice from Price

Sometimes it feels strange, but as a writer, it's like the characters you create live in your mind - rent free, and you sense them judging you every move. "Why are you not writing my happy end, babe?" - Kyle. Let's just overlook my midnight thoughts for now. I promise I'll be fully focused next week- finishing the Makarov fic and my requests, but these days have been quite shitty. I had my first final exam today, tomorrow is the state Championship of my Apprenticeship, and I'm having numerous interviews for an exchange year. Anyway, enough rambling.

At times, I think about Price and the advice he shares with me throughout the day- always sitting like an Cartoon Angel on top of my shoulders. I thought maybe I'd share them with you, in case you need advice from Price too :)

If this fic isn't your cup of tea just ignore it I clearly made it for myself and don't want to be judged lol:(

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Overcoming Perfectionism

You: "What if I don't win? What if I'm not the best? What if my grades slip?"

Price: "You're one of the smartest and most capable women I know, if not the smartest and most capable. You've worked hard for those grades, and I'm confident you'll ace whatever test comes your way. But let's entertain the idea that you don't. It wouldn't change how I feel about you one bit. You're already my best girl. You don’t have to be perfect to earn my love, Darling."

You: "Sometimes I feel like if I don't have good grades, I lose the only special part about me. Having good grades is the only thing I can do, and if I fail that, I'll just be ordinary."

Price: (He would sigh at your words, acknowledging your fears even if they aren’t logical to him) "Darling, you're so much more than just your grades. You have a bright personality, you're sweet, kind, and beautiful. No matter what happens, you'll always be special and extraordinary. There's not one thing in the world that could make you ordinary to me."

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Gaining Weight

You: "John, love, I gained weight again," you sighed, looking at your body in the mirror. Of course, you were incredibly beautiful, but sometimes the monsters in your head just didn’t want to shut up.

Price: "Where's the problem?"

You: "You don’t mind?"

Price: He would smile warmly at you, his smile like in the campaign you know what I mean "No, you're already perfect just the way you are. That slight extra meat on your bones makes you even cuter, besides, there's even more of you for me to love and manhandle." He would make you laugh, letting you forget all your concerns.

Needless to say, he showed you just how much he didn’t mind your body. All night.

[mondaysoct]

unpopular opinion: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley isn’t a sex god. He’s probably not had sex more than once or twice in his life. Pairing with his trauma of abuse + being sexually assaulted, man is probably haphephobic

It probably takes him a long time to get comfortable with someone enough to become touchy with them. And for your first time, he probably needs a lot of comfort + breaks because his repressed trauma would be taking a lot out of him mentally and emotionally

im tired of seeing ‘oo big dom daddy ghost’ when soft ghost content is right there and canonically more likely to be accurate

[mondaysoct]

always ask yourself: is he really hot or are you just ovulating?

[mondaysoct]

I'm hungry, leon😞

and my man, thank you to my man 😚🥰🙃🤭

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kyle💛

i found him such a sweetheart. and hopefully i have something in mind to write about him

Sergeant Garrick

[mondaysoct]

Some eye shots from MWII (that i never posted)

I love that scope man

[mondaysoct]

delicious writing *chef kiss*

"Hey, Kento-- I'm ovulating."

yes ma'am...😏

i do too ( •_•) *mumble shyly*

Operation: Babymaker-- Benchpress

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready.

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💜 💛 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

Interrupt Kento's workout? Get ready to be manhandled 💛

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, manhandling, full nelson 💛

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"How strong are you, Kento? Really?"

In just his checked pyjama trousers, Nanami Kento still cut an imposing figure. Even though his waist was thick with muscle (though not with heavily defined decorative abs-- just subtle planes under freckled skin), his chest and shoulders broadened out dramatically, his arms thick and veiny, his hands bold and angular.

Kento paused, his coffee halfway to his lips, holding his book open with one hand, before answering; "Strong enough, I should think. Why?"

Just modest, you thought. You looked him slowly up and down, your filthy imagination whirring. You smiled, tucking your legs up under you on the sofa, cupping your tea between two hands.

"No reason."

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You couldn't help yourself from watching.

"One."

A home gym was a blessing for Kento, who neither worked out for enjoyment nor vanity, but purely for the demands of his job.

"Two."

He was away from home enough. And people at the gym stared so much, that Kento's workouts used to feel cloying, claustrophobic, skin prickling with the eyes of thirsty or envious fellow gym-goers.

"Three."

As he pulled himself up again, feeling everything in his body clench with exertion, he did, however, feel one pair of eyes on him.

"Four...why are you hiding in the shadows, hmm?"

You jumped, biting your bottom lip between your teeth. Your mind had been spirited away by thoughts too obscene to say out loud. Thoughts of being restrained. Thoughts of being grappled into submission, pinned, gasping. Thoughts made so easy to have about the man who you knew would never hurt you.

Stepping out from behind the doorframe, your coy demeanour made Kento huff, a short puff of air from his nose, and you watched blatantly as he finished his set. In snug shorts set halfway up his thighs, and a loose drop-sleeved tank top, you reasoned you couldn't be expected to take your eyes off him either.

Kento continued, walking over to the narrow Benchpress bench, beginning to place weights on the bars, one, after another, after another and you felt yourself filled with wicked intent.

"You can't lift that," you scoffed. Kento's jaw clenched, a small smile gracing his lips, as he continued shifting plates. Your words rolled off him, water off a duck's back. The ungoadable man.

"If you think you're going to interrupt me," Kento toned, smooth and reasonable, "you're wrong. I always get my workout done in 45 minutes, and..." he crooked his wrist, checking the time, "...I won't be late for anything."

Kento laid himself back on the narrow seat, no bench left at all on either side of his hips, the wings of his shoulders gaping out over the bench's confines. As the soft fabric of his shorts stretched over his thick thighs, settling over the prominent bulge of his groin, you gulped. Your mouth watered. And as Kento began to lift, with short ragged grunts rumbling from his chest, it all became too much to resist.

Kento's eyes were fixed upwards, hyper focused, feeling the impossibly deep ache of lifting something just about too heavy for him to lift. He barely noticed the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye-- you, languidly undressing down to your underwear, eyes fixed on Kento's thighs.

Kento jolted as he felt you settle, warm and blushing, straddling his spread thigh. He almost fumbled his lift, and coughed in alarm to see you sat, almost naked, pressing your core against his tensed muscles.

"Won't be late for anything? Even me? Even when I want your baby so badly, Kento," you purred, your hands coming up to remove your bra, dropping it onto Kento's twitching abs as your breasts slipped free. Kento felt a bead of sweat drop down his temple, and he growled at you in warning, frustrated to feel his composure wobble.

"Shit...you little-- got to keep to time--" Kento's arms shook as he completed the lift, resting the bar for a moment as he panted, and you rocked your hips against his thigh, pleasure immediately churning through you. Kento's jaw twitched, fists clenching and unclenching, determined to maintain his schedule, but feeling his body betray him, his cock twitching to life in his gym shorts.

Straight after, Kento reassured himself, fighting the urge to throw you over his shoulder, throw you onto the bed, and pound his cum into you until you begged for mercy, nearly done, keep to time, keep to time.

Kento's watch beeped, and he bolted to action, gripping the bar again, beginning another set of lifts-- anything to distract himself from you slipping your underwear to the side as you continued to rock your pussy, now wet and puffy, against his bare thigh. You sighed and keened, two hands planted for support on his hips, the palm of your hand brushing temptingly against his aching cock.

Kento groaned, unsure if it was from the painful stretch of the lift or from your desperate attention to his thigh, heat spreading across his shoulders and chest. His cock was throbbing now, uncomfortably tight in his shorts, pressed down at an awkward angle.

You watched Kento shift and twitch as you humped his thigh, and shivered with a sweet little moan as his muscles fluttered under your clit. Kento felt his throat go dry when your hands drifted lazily to pinch and roll your own nipples. He could feel you getting closer to orgasm, and it drove him mad that he wasn't filling your belly with his seed at the same time.

Leaning forwards, still panting, furiously rutting against Kento's thigh, drips of your arousal now running down the sides, you ghosted your hands over the outline of his cock. Kento gasped mid-lift, almost dropping the bar onto himself.

"Fuck--" he gasped, snapping your name. He hopped one hand centrally on the bars, and clapped his other hand over yours pressed to his erection, "--wait a few minutes or I swear, you're going to kill me--" Kento's words caught in his chest, his other hand darting up to stabilise the tilting bar, as you lowered his shorts, his cock springing free against his clenching abs.

With a lip-biting, devious smile, you waited until Kento had begun another lift, still stubbornly refusing to stop his workout, before grasping his cock, and laying a long, flat-tongued lick to the underside from ball to tip.

Kento cursed like a sailor, his elbows buckling, the bars lilting sideways with a metallic smash into the dock. Spitting curses at you, coming out of him in a series of growling chastisements, Kento coughed again, a spurt of pre-cum salting your tongue as you giggled around his needy cockhead.

Kento fumbled, lost in your wet little mouth sucking him in. He struggled to lift the bars again to place them in their dock, as your thighs cramped and trembled, approaching your orgasm.

His hands splayed above him like a surprised kitten, his chin to his chest as he stared down at you in fury and alarm, Kento groaned. His head snapped back to press to the bench, then back to his chest to watch your nose graze his honey-blonde hair again.

As he moved a hand down to tangle in your hair, colours popping in his eyes in ecstasy, you released his cock with a wet suck, mouth falling open as you came on his thigh. With one hand still gripping Kento by the cock, he bit into the back of his knuckles to stop himself from emptying into your hand.

Kento still glared at you in barely-restrained fury, for having nearly ended his life through means of a deadly benchpress, and opened his mouth to bark at you. His orgasm still threatened at the edge of a precipice.

"Not only am I now late," he growled, "you almost killed me-- I don't know which one is worse, I--"

When you moved up his body, straddling his hips and rolling your slick heat along his cock, Kento gripped the bars above him again for sanity, spitting feathers at you again, infuriatingly flustered.

"Thought if you were that strong," you panted, cheeks flushed and euphoric, "you could do both at once." Kento huffed at you again like an angry bull and, as if to prove a point, rolled the bar in his palms, shifting his shoulders, brick-like and tense, ready to begin another lift.

For a second time, as Kento moved into another benchpress, you raised yourself above his weeping cock, and sunk down onto his length, your wet walls plump and stretchy and inviting him to bottom out in one slick movement.

Kento moaned, his hips lifting you clear of the bench for a second as he brought the bar down to his chest, twitching and heaving with exertion and twisted pleasure. You stayed flush, rocking backwards and forwards, revelling in the fullness of him inside you, not pulling him out of you for a second.

Kento thought he had died and seen heaven when, the moment he pushed upwards to lift the weights off his chest, you leaned forwards and whispered up to him; "Hey, Kento-- I'm ovulating."

Kento came with a hoarse, wounded cry, everything pushing out of his body at once as he completed the lift, and his cum spurted up into you with mind-blowing force. Groaning a series of short, agonised groans, his cock still jumping and gushing, he slopped the bar back into the dock. You continued to rock his seed into you, eyes closed and a satisfied little smile on your face. Kento saw red.

You felt yourself being instantly grappled. Kento lifted your thighs up towards you enough that he could spin to you face the other way, his cock still plugging his cum inside you. Lifting you against him, locking your arms behind your head and your knees beside them, Kento dropped you both to the gym mat, completely restraining you in a full-nelson.

You squeaked, trying to squirm. It was absolutely futile, and you felt Kento's hot breath in your ear.

"Not that strong, hmm?" He hummed, low and threatening, "Strong enough to open your pickle jars for years though, apparently." You started to laugh, and cut off abruptly as Kento squeezed you tighter, chuckling as you squeaked again. His chuckle stretched into a groan, low and lusty, at the feeling of your pussy throbbing around his length, which had barely softened, and was rapidly hardening again.

Grappling you with his back to the floor, Kento shunted his cock up into you, satisfied at you crying out and pressing back against him; "Not that strong?" Kento planted a harsh kiss to your temple, and bucked up into you again, satisfied to feel you melt, helpless in his hold. Kento felt a lick of pride run through him as he continued to hammer upwards into you, the air filled with the squelch of his cock in your cum-filled cunt.

"Punched men through concrete-- haaah, shit-- crushed Curses under brick walls," Kento listed, grunting and ruthless as he slammed into you now, feeling his tip bully into your cervix, "and look at you now-- more origami than woman-- and you will take every-- fucking-- bit-- of --it--" Kento snapped his hips back to punctuate each word, and you mewled pitifully at him, tears streaking into your hair.

Kento laughed, feeling himself peaking again, licking your tears away with mock-gentle shushes, captivated by the way your tits bounced every time he rutted up into you.

"So-ooo-- good-- Kentooo-ooo," you squeaked out around his thrusts, a thick hot pleasure roiling in your womb as you begged him, "h--harder--please." Kento snorted, his hands gripping your thighs harder, lifting you off him to slap you back down in time with him pressing up into you. You shuddered, marshmallow-soft, twitching in pleasure as your second orgasm washed through your belly, ready to gulp Kento into you.

Kento was awash with the closeness of you, the delicious hot wet suck of your walls around his cock, the thought of you round and full and growing, because of him. Keeping you restrained with one thick forearm holding your thighs and arms back, his other hand drifted to your belly, pressing lightly, feeling the jolt as his cock rammed against your cervix.

Feeling your pussy squeeze and flutter around him, Kento's grip never faltered as he gasped, husky and satisfied, feeling his cock spurt inside you again, rolling you from side to side as he thrust lazily up into you, careful to not allow any of his seed to slip free. He lay with you in his arms for a few moments hand massaging your belly, willing his cum to soak up inside you.

With one final slow groan, Kento pulled out of you, pressing your thighs together on exit, and releasing you from the trap of his arms. Though you had planned to fall asleep, there and then, on the gym mats, Kento had other ideas.

You felt yourself being scooped up, held upside down against Kento by the waist, and he walked you to his pull-up bar across the room. You were appalled to feel him drape your legs over it, and as he let go of you, you were forced to hang upside down by the backs of your knees, a child on the monkey-bars.

"Kento!" You squeaked, appalled, cupping your breasts in your hands as he dusted off his hands and moved to settle himself again for benchpressing, "You-- how dare you-- you can't just hang me up like wet laundry!"

Kento hummed smilingly to himself as he checked his watch, reaching up to grip the bars again;

"Well darling, I've got a workout to finish. And you've got a baby to make. Isn't that what all this nonsense was about?"

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Up next: Ditch the Party Part 2 and more surprises

[mondaysoct]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Late Night," originally published in 1981

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George Seferis, translated by Rex Warner, from Poems translated from the Greek; "XVI,"

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You felt his warm, calloused hands on your skin as he looked up at you with sad, tired eyes. You could see that the horrors of war had taken their toll on him--the once-handsome face of a decorated war hero was now haggard and bruised. And yet, there was something in his eyes that told you he was still willing to fight for you, to protect you from the horrors of the world.

You couldn't bear to see him suffer like this. You leaned down and gently brought your lips to his, kissing him like you would never see him again. It was a passionate, desperate kiss--a sign of your love and your gratitude for all he had done for you.

Despite the chaos happening outside, in that moment the two of you were united by your love. And as you pulled away, you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Because even in the darkest of times, love can conquer all.

[mondaysoct]

CW// Stress-Baking, Fluff, English is still not my first language, mistakes are a specialty of the kitchen, they come in different menus, enjoy them.

Requests should be open, I’m happy to get back into writing, so if you like me taking a try at your idea, I would be happy and thankful <3

Simon loves you. He loves you when you’re mad or sad or happy. He loves you when you don’t say a single word the whole day or when you talk like a damn waterfall.

Simon loves you.

He just hates when you are stressed. Because you bake when you are stressed. And usually it wasn’t bad, your cooking is delicious, your baking even better. Simon would kill a man if your baking good got insulted.

When you’re stressed, you bake for the whole military, that’s what it feels like at least. There is not a single spot, where Simon can sit and watch, that’s not full of baked goods. And he can’t talk you down from it until you baked all the stress out of you.

Simon loves you, but he’s scared when he says no to eating a tenth muffin, or maybe it was already twelfth one, at some point he lost count.

That’s why Simon would do everything in his powers to keep stress from you. Because he loves you, and because he can’t eat so much food.

[mondaysoct]

simon when he catches you with a cigarette, it’s placed between your two fingers as you hold it. taking long drags from the familiar stick. ‘not good f’you,’ he tells you as if he’s all high and mighty with his little addiction.

‘really wanna go there?’ you questioned taking another drag, letting the smoke build up in your lungs. ghost walked over standing next to you taking the cigarette from your fingers, pulling his mask up to his nose. his scarred lip appearing as he placing the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. his eyes were piercing yours as he did it.

‘touché.’ he mutters placing the cigarette back into your hand as you exhale the smoke that once remained in your lungs. he copies you, releasing his smoke, the cloud leaving its smell as it leaves.

‘when d’you start?’ he grumbles, pulling out his own cigarette, placing it between his lips; grabbing a dark lighter as he lit it between his fingers.

‘few months ago,’ you tell him taking your final drag from the cigarette. stepping the cig out under your shoe into the floor. ‘bad habit,’ atleast you were self aware.

‘it is,’ he countered feeling it, it was something you hated but it was hard to quit. ‘how about,’ ghost had always been a bargaining man, he’d bargained with death itself he needed be. ‘you quit, I quit.’

this perked your interest, he had been smoking since the day you joined the force, a few years ago. ‘deal,’ there was no thought about it, if he could do it, you could certainly do it.

[mondaysoct]

Echo 3-1

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ghost, who is actually completely technologically literate, going out of his way to embarrass a teenaged joseph by wearing his reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he looks at his phone screen, loudly asking how to do things as simple as taking a picture

[mondaysoct]

Listen– Simon and reader with "there's only a bottle of water left" trope you think? 👀 Like, he's having his greatest time and pleasure to indulge your need for water maybe in the middle of mission or whatever, and you're just so so thirsty and take no bs because you just want to drink, and if it means you have to fight Ghost over a bottle of water then what? However instead he gives that to you, he drink all for himself and you think your throat can't be more thirsty but no no girl, he has his own way to make sure you stay hydrated, by all means including mouth to mouth drinking– *bonk*

hi honey, thank you for your request i'm very pleased to work on this,,, this is soooo precious😣🫶🏻 well, here you go. I hope you like this❤️

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

—content warning: slight smut

—word count: 0.6k

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“Let's go."

He sets off for the safe place away from crowded, his long strides outpacing your shorter ones. You have to rush a little bit to keep up with him. He doesn't even turn to look at you, expecting you to follow him.

“You walk too fast.” You ran to him.

"I prefer to move fast rather than waste time," he grumbles, slowing down just a bit as he waits for you to catch up. He doesn't speak as you two make your way across a small clearing in the forest.

Your stomach growls at this very moment, loud enough for him to hear it. He knew you haven’t eaten today, so does he.

“Simon, give me your bottle.” You start begging again.

Simon watches you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. There's something about the way you look up at him, the pleading in your eyes, that makes him feel...hot.

He crosses his arms and lets out a small huff. "Not this argument again," he mutters.

Simon and you have been on a long and rugged mission, with no end in sight. You've been through thick and thin, always relying on each other to get through. But now, after days of trudging through the wilderness, you're both parched and thirsty.

You knew he has been saving the bottle of water for himself, planning to drink the entire thing when he is most in need. However, you are struggling to cope with the extreme thirst and heat. You have been asking him several times, but he has been refusing, insisting that he needs it more than you do.

You finally snap. You challenge him to a fight over the bottle of water, determined to get ahold of it no matter what.

"Smart girl. I’d like to see you try." The corner of his lips curls up ever so slightly, the hint of humor in his voice almost caught by you.

There is a brief struggle, but Simon is larger and stronger than you. He manages to restrain you and takes the bottle of water for himself.

You pissed but you tried to ignore it, he noticed and asked you if you were okay. When you admitted that you were extremely thirsty, he pulled the bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to you.

He knew your throat was desperate for moisture, and he had a plan to make sure you stayed hydrated. He approached you with the water-filled bottle in his hand and brought it to your mouth.

But instead of drinking it yourself, he took the cap off, picks it up, raises it to his lips, and took a swig.

He drinks all the water himself until the last drop is gone. Once the bottle is empty, he looks at you.

"That's it?" You demanded, anger and desperation burning in your voice. "You drank the whole bottle without leaving anything for me?"

He cups his hands around your mouth. Then, abruptly, he presses his lips against yours. It takes a moment to understand what he's doing, but soon it becomes clear, he's giving you water, directly from his own mouth, letting you drink from his lips.

You feel his tongue on your lips, and as you open your mouth, you feel the cool moisture run down your throat.

At first, you take small, tentative gulp, savoring the cool, refreshing water as it flows down your throat.

You drink deeply, savoring the sweet taste of the water as it runs down your throat.

After a few sips, you start to feel dizzy and light-headed. You pull away from him, realizing that what he was doing.

You have no words. You just stare back at him, feeling your heart racing.

“You-... How did you-"

He places a finger to your lips to cut you off.

He takes the cap from the bottle, screws it back on, and puts it back in his packet.

“Let’s moving.” He commands.

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Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

Thanks for reading ♡

[mondaysoct]

“And if you call me at 4 am, too sad to even say hello, I will listen to your silence until you fall asleep.”

— Unknown