#141 drabble

[cupidsworstcrime]

Under qualified!Reader x TF 141

Killshot. A badass callsign, yeah? Given to you by the original team you joined all those years ago. Unfortunately for you, it was ironic. You couldn't shoot the paint off a barn wall.

The only reason you made it to the 141 was you were fairly decent with a line of code.

So imagine your surprise when you get deployed on a real mission. Like, a real big girl mission. Not just playing on the PC in Price's office in-between intel theft.

Now the men aren't stupid, you don't get to be in the front lines. You get to sit pretty at command and feed them instructions. Fine, yeah?

No!!! Not fine!!!

Cause you get made very quickly, and you are being stared down by a terrorist with a rifle and all you have is a glock you barely know how to clean.

Your comms are silent, so 141 immediately knows something is up. Price is closest when he hears shots fired straight from command.

When he gets there, the terrorist is dead on the floor. Quarter sized hole right between the eyes. Nice fucking shot.

He is baffled, but youre shaking like a leaf, gun still drawn out. He steps over the body and eased the glock from your hand.

"You hurt, swee'heart?"

You managed to shake your head right as the other 3 men crash into command.

You let out a shaky breath, "I was aiming for his knee..."

Price cant help his smile, his pebble is somehow both the most capable girl and the most defenseless one. He can't wait till you finally let him discharge you and keep you locked up at home.

Gaz is so sure you're lying now. Youve been hustling them right? That shot is too clean, baby

Soap? He's turned on. The fucking freak. Cmon bonnie, not everyday the lass of his dreams kills a man. By accident too??? He's practically humping your leg as he comforts you.

Simon has a frustrated tick in his jaw. He was going to be running you on shooting drills for the foreseeable future. Wont be letting his dovie survive on pure dumb luck.

One thing they agree on? You are never leaving base again.

(inspired by the LDSK ep of criminal minds....)

[penguinbuttcheeks]

retired!john price x afab reader

₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽ °˖˚𓏲࿐࿔ ₊˚.༄:፣₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖°☾☽

retired!john price who never looked back once finally leaving the military to spend the rest of his life with you, the gentle gleam of his wedding band occasionally catching his eye, making his chest feel warm.

retired!john price who moves to the countryside of england with his precious bird, years of hard labour and deep rooted exhaustion finally seeping from his body as he learns to unwind, recline back with his missus and simply take life one day at a time.

retired!john price who slowly grows more pliable under your touch, hard muscles slowly buried beneath the soft pudge of his stomach, biceps and thighs, your head resting more comfortably against his shoulder than it ever has as the two of you fall asleep in each others arms each night.

retired!john price who learns to enjoy hobbies he had long discarded after enlisting, reading next to you in the living room as snow falls gently from the sky and the fireplace crackles, perhaps tediously sawing at wooden planks under the harsh summer sun, sweat rolling down his back as he works on the new dining table. he lifts his head, unable to stop the soft upward curl of his lips as you walk towards him with a plate of freshly cut watermelon, sitting on the deck of your property and watching the clouds roll by with you at his side.

retired!john price who gathers you in his arms, the stinging of unshed tears burning behind his eyes when you break the news of your pregnancy to him, large hand splaying across your stomach as he pulls you close, gentle lips pressing against yours.

retired!john price who’s forehead no longer creases, furrowed brows instead replaced with a content smile, crows feet leaving behind a permanent reminder of his newfound happiness.

retired!john price who’s eyes shine with love and adoration as he pauses his dish washing to watch you quietly hum to yourself, nursing your newborn child against your chest who is gently suckling with bleary blue eyes. just like his.

retired!john price who’s heart that was once fuelled by violence and bloodshed finally content and full because of you.

[pricetagged]

I really want to write a poly 141 au loosely based on 'Ready or Not', but I don't know if I have the time (or ability).

I'm picturing reader marrying one of the boys, either Gaz or Soap. Either of them could be charming, winning you over, just a little vein of that too-bright intensity thrumming under the handsome face and sweet words.

Whoever it is (leaning towards Gaz), they bring you to meet the rest of the lads. 'Just a little ritual we have,' he'd reassure you. 'Just meet the squad, play some games, get to know each other.' You mean so much to him! And they do too, so naturally you should meet.

You'd have dinner together, a little awkward as the big guy in the mask just wouldn't stop staring. Wouldn't stop making comments that err just the wrong side of unsettling. Johnny, too. He'd be overly familiar, shockingly handsy, but your husband just wouldn't react. Instead, he'd lean back in his chair, fingers stroking yours as he did little more than watch. And the Captain... You'd feel weighed and stripped under his gaze. You came hoping for their blessing, hoping to please Kyle, but the approval in John's eyes would glint with something hungry.

Your shaking hands would pluck the 'hide and seek' card from the box, and Kyle would coo false comforts in your ear while the others at the table perked up. Bloodhounds catching a scent. You just have to make it through the night, that's all. There are lots of places to hide around the cabin, in the forest. They'd even give you a head start!

Of course, you don't stand much of a chance. You'd hold out surprisingly long, and there'd be a few near-misses. But eventually, your luck would run out...

I'm not sure how to go about it, how to show the violence (since obviously reader survives! But i kind of want a slasher vibe too?). And once they catch you, the real fun begins 👀🖤 (obvs this is going to be dark).

___________________________________

Anyway, I'm swamped with finishing other fics on my list. Don't know if/when I'll get around to this.

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

loser simon riley unaware that he is largely endowed getting laid for the first time

cw: loss of virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, simon is down bad

simon getting pussy for the first time and doesn’t know how to act

“fuck si, your huge,” your hand gently stroking his cock, as he tried his best to not come right there and then. everything felt like a wet dream, a pretty girl like you all dolled up fisting his cock as you kissed his neck, perched up on his lap. your pretty pink lace panties tossed on the floor as you grinned on his muscular thighs, the idea of his cock deep inside you made you feel little achy in between your legs.

“i don’t know if it’ll fit,” you whined as you rubbed it along your glossy cunt, his cock painfully hard as he smeared the pre cum all over you. “it’ll fit, i promise,” simon groaned when you gently nudged his sensitive tip to your soppy hole, barely in and he was already a mess.

he would make it fit, god he would do anything to feel your small cunt around him.

you sank down inch by inch, but the stretch was too much, burning slightly as your cunt accommodated to his length. “is it all the way in si?” your voice trembling as you bit down on your glossy lip, your body already trembling.

“almost half way,” his large tatted hands gently holding your sides, “please, i need all of you.”

simon didn’t care if he sounded pathetic, because he was. he was so god damn desperate to feel something other than his calloused hands, or the stupid flesh light that he got.

“please, jus’ a lil more, i’ll make you feel good, please.” he begged, barely half way in and your cunt felt so warm, so welcoming - he couldn’t just let you go.

slowly you took him all the way in, your body shaking as the prominent bulge in your stomach was displayed, your breaths coming out in pants.

“i’ll make you feel good, i promise.”

his thrusts were awkward at first, you were just so damn tight like you are sucking him back in, barely pulling out a few inches before slamming back into you.

“too big si,” your nails slowly digging into his skin as your gummy walls clenched around him. “you can take it, yer doin’ so well.” he cooed softly as his mind went hazy with pleasure, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he bounced you on top of him.

you were like his personal flesh light, so warm and loving, your sweet cunt tightly snug against his cock - god he wasn’t going to stop.

his thrusts turned sloppy, the sound of skin slapping filled the room as you bounced mindlessly on his cock. you were too damn cock drunk to even think, his fat tip hitting all of your sweet spots.

“si, i think i’m gonna come.” the comment alone snapped simon out of his trance. the thought of you clenching tightly around him, whilst you came on his cock, it dribbling down almost made him come right there and then.

he wrapped his tatted arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest as he thrusted into your cunt harshly, your body trembling trying to get away from the amount of pleasure. “stay here please, i’ll make you feel good,” simon mumbled as he held you tightly in his arms,

the moment you came so did he, the feeling of your walls clenching around him was too much, he wasn’t used to it after all - only the feeling of his rough palms and the loveless toy.

“did you just-”

“fuck ‘m sorry, you just felt too good.” he grimaced at his apology, his hands wrapped your waist as if he didn’t want to let you go. “jus’ one more please?”

his eyes glued to the way his cum slowly oozed out of your cunt.

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @prettyinpink-bimbo @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[beloveds-embrace]

Telling Ghost/König you are too heavy for him to pick up or sit on his face, and he doesn’t say anything at first so you think he just accepted it even if your heart kinda twinged a little in pain because you know you are just not skinny enough-

Only for him to send you a video the next day: in the gym, looking mighty hot in a compression shirt and sweatpants just a touch low on his hips, and lifting a bar with ease. On a closer look? The weighs attached to the bar weigh far more than you do. And he so easily maneuvers and controls and manhandles it…

Between the heat curling in your stomach, face pink and thighs clenched shut, you almost miss the incoming text.

Never too heavy for me, doll.

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[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.

[screamingforests]

Ghost was pushing you. That's the only explanation for his actions. You didn't understand why he went harder on you than any other recruit.

So, you pushed yourself even more when he wasn't watching. You wanted to impress him. You wanted to impress all of your superiors. It didn't matter that your hours of sleep were dwindling dangerously low.

You were getting better, your results more apparent to everyone.

You were faster than the other recruits, had better endurance, you could fight hand to hand better. You could lift more. It didn't matter that you had deep bags hanging beneath your eyes. It didn't matter that you nodded off when you had a moment to stand still. You were doing so good, you couldn't give up now.

Not until it was another day under Ghost's watchful command. Every push-up harder than the last, your vision going spotty.

"Up! Down! Up! Down!" Ghosts shouts, voice in time with a metronome. He was stomping around all the recruits, correcting postures or yelling at someone. "Get up, recruit!"

You start to get up, vision going dangerously blurry. You think you slur out an affirmative, you aren't sure. Time seems to slow for a second before your vision goes completely black.

~

What you don't see is the way Ghost's eyes widen as your body suddenly collapses, the way he jerks to try and catch you before your head hits the ground. He's fast but not fast enough. Guilts paints his mind, worry smudging his clear thoughts.

Picking you up is easy, even for a recruit of your size, you should be weighing more. Especially with the amount of muscle on you.

Ghost rushes to the infirmary, yelling at them for attention. He's directed to laying you on a bed, he's so deceptively gentle with it.

The nurses ask him to leave but the dead-eye stare he gives them in return has them flustering and murmuring its okay. He doesn't want to leave you, he has to make sure you're okay. It was all his fault- he had been pushing you too hard.

Pushing you so hard the rest of the Task Force noticed.

Ghost remembers Price telling him to take it easier on you, Soap trying to take over his training days to keep you away. His sharp eyes didn't miss the way Gaz tried to slide you more energy bars to make up for Guost's harshness.

He had caused this.

~

By time you wake up, some several hours later, Ghost has cleared out. But in his place stands Price, carefully watching over you and your vitals. He didn't want to make it worse and scar you when you woke up so he entrusted you to Price - Price could take care of you if Ghost couldn't.

Even when you're cleared from infirmary, he makes his guilt apparent in other ways. He's softer towards you, softer than he should be. It leaves you reeling. You aren't sure how to handle this new side of him.

Ghost makes the cooks give you a larger portion to make up for the calorie deficit. Gaz and Soap enforce stricter lights out rules for him - making sure you don't have any midnight trainings.

He just wants to protect you but he's not sure how to show you that. Ghost can't show you how important you are to him.

[penguinbuttcheeks]

simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader x fwb!johnny ‘soap’ mactavish - bet

suggestive content, no explicit smut

₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄

𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄ 𓏲࿐࿔ ˚˖° ₊˚.༄:፣ 𓏲࿐

- it was a bet that you and johnny had agreed on amidst rapid gunfire, the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air, fuelled by purely adrenaline and your will to survive.

- you had almost won. almost.

- the two sergeants were always bickering, two friends that seemingly never seemed to get along from an outsiders perspective. those that were close though, knew that it was all in good nature.

- ghost had been there too, grumbling over the comms as you two argued back and forth, warning you that you were biting off more than you could chew.

- oh, if only you had listened.

- now here you were in soap and ghost’s shared quarters on base, sat on your knees before the sergeant with the lieutenant lazily leaning against the headboard of his bed as he occasionally glanced up from his phone to look at the two of you with emotionless eyes.

- the pretty black collar around your neck felt heavy as soap ensured he was able to fit two fingers between the leather and your skin, grinning down at you triumphantly while gripping the silver chain in his other hand.

- “this is degrading”

- “a deal’s a deal, lass”

- you wanted nothing more than to slap the smug bastards grin clean off of his face, cheeks flushed red in humiliation.

- he seemed to take pride in watching your face heat up, seeing the tears in your eyes as he talked down on you. prick.

- “might jus’ have to bring this in t’the bedroom with us next time”

- ghost scoffs at johnny’s words, returning his attention back to his phone with clear disinterest.

- this wasn’t anything new. he had grown used to the shenanigans that occurred within the confines of his shared living space.

- it’s why he rarely spent his free time there to begin with.

- soap stands, dropping the leash to the floor as he makes his way to the entrance of their barracks, momentarily glancing over at ghost from over his shoulder .

- “keep the lass in line, aye? still got a debrief te attend,” soap muses before shutting the door behind him.

- sneaky fucking bastard.

- the silence in the room is loud, your heart rate rapidly picking up at the sound of rustling behind you, not daring to look back at the large man as his shadow slowly approached, swallowing your kneeling figure in darkness from the dingy ceiling light overhead.

- “c’mon pup, we’ll teach you some new tricks for johnny, yeah?”

- the disinterested gleam in simon’s eyes has all but vanished, hidden lips pulled in to a faint smirk beneath his black balaclava that you can barely make out when you finally meet his gaze.

- perhaps ghost doesn’t mind the mischief you and johnny get up to after all.

[tojisteddy]

“Daddy, tell me, am I your fuckin baby?” | cw: 18+ mdni, meanie!simon, daddy kink (icky), age gap (30s Simon, mid 20s reader)

Meanie!Simon calling you his ‘kid’ in a very sentimental way, he loves the absolute shit out of you. Would give you the damn world if you asked. Plus you’re younger than him, you truly are a baby in his eyes. Loves the way you follow when he goes for a smoke just to smell him, that you light your own joints the same way he lights his cigarettes. Once to light it, another to make sure it’s really burning. Inhale, exhale a few times then burn it once more for good measure. The way you survey the room just like him, he’d run your nape with his thumb in approval, they way you curl into his side when your up past your bed time, but still there yearning for more time with him. And mostly that smart mouth you had on you when you got mad— loud, bratty, slick— his fuckin baby.

At the same time, Ghost is calling you ‘kiddo’ while he shoved his index and middle finger in your mouth and is more than 6 inches deep in your pussy to piss you off.

But he feels you clenching down on his length, gushing around him every time he says it while you hold his look with something that’s in the middle of a glare and a cock drunk haze.

“Don’t look at me like that kiddo. You know I just loooove correcting little bitches, don’t you? Show some respect.”

He’ll grab hold of your wrists behind your back, when you tried to run, smacking at his shoulders when his tip hit your cervix.

“Be a good girl ‘nd take it, ‘s not that fuckin hard princess. Fuckin’ell, use that fuckin brain and ride me.”

He likes your brain all the way melted and rolling around of the floor, let’s leave alllll the thinking to your Daddy. And every once in a while you’re the perfect kitty he’s raised you to be. Rubbing your own clit slowly that has his cum all over it while sat in his lap, fucked out and your manicured nails clawing at his back.

He’s laughing at you, the cutest thing he’s ever fucking seen. He’s leaving kisses on your cheeks and forehead then on your lips. Simon’s proud.

“So fuckin good for your daddy kiddo. Knew you had it in you.”

a/n: lmfao, happy Sunday. song rec: Take You Down by sza. Forgot the taglist, sorry bubs

most recent masterlist

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse

[itsoutrageouss]

More Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley coming into your room at night, no words needed. Follow up on my last post.

His hands are gripping your waist and your tummy, but not only that, he’s actually dragging you downwards with all his strength, pawing at you so your body scoots down the bed, onto his face, ruffling the sheets. The sounds he makes are unholy and like nothing you’ve heard. He’s always barking orders, grunting in disapproval. Now he’s moaning, nearly whining into the wet mess he’s making between your thighs, spit and slick everywhere.

You can’t even see him, only faint moonlight illuminating his bulging arms and head snug between your thighs. You still haven’t said a single coherent word since he came in, running a hand through his short hair, tugging in a way that makes his whole body shiver. He can’t breathe and he fucking loves it, feeling the stress melt from his muscles with every flutter of your hole around his tongue, cramming it inside you.

Everything is a haze. You had been asleep, and now your lieutenants stern, usually hidden mouth was enveloping as much of your pussy as it could and just slurping. Your thighs quivered around his head, feeling worshipped with the way his hands pulled and pulled on your flesh to get you closer.

He inhaled sharply, groaning in his exhale as his shoulders relaxed. You were his free therapy right now. It wasn’t even for you, because he moved up your body at a crucial second, unconsciously edging you. An annoyed whine left your lips, but he was quick to silence you with two fingers slipping between your lips, calloused fingertips pressing down onto your tongue.

“Good to me” was the first words spoken. His voice was hoarse, quiet and you weren’t sure if he was talking more to himself than to you, his eyes narrowed as they observed the way spit pooled at the corners of your lips as you suckled his fingers in contentment. It sounded almost like a surprised observation as it fell from his spit slicked lips.

You blinked up at him in the darkness, spreading your legs to accommodate his wide hips as he slotted them between your thighs.

Your hand curled around his wrist and gently pulled his wet fingers from your mouth. “Can be even better,” you whispered softly, an innocent expression on your face that he found cruel because how could you look at him like that? He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second to gather his bearing before he looked at you again.

“Show me” he commanded lowly, lowering his chin, his expression dark and set like the lieutenant he was.

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

simon riley with his favourite cam girl

cw: masturbation

simon didn’t care that all of his money went to a girl that he didn’t know, a girl that was filming herself behind the camera.

“thanks for the donation sr141,” your shy face flashing a smile as you slowly untied the front piece of your shirt, his eyes glued to the screen savouring each moment. simon’s cock chubbed in his hands, slow strokes as his eyes remained trained on the screen.

he’s seen your naked body numerous of times, but yet every time you undid your clothes it felt like the first time all over again.

it was adorable just how shy you were, the faint blush in your cheeks as you displayed your pretty glossy cunt to the camera, playing it with your hands.

sr141 sent $400 > look so pretty baby

he almost came in his pants when you flashed the camera a smile. “thanks for the donations again,” you mumbled softly as you took out a toy - a dildo. “i wanted to do something new, maybe a toy?” you asked the chat as you held it up. god, what simon would do to be that.

the chat spammed with responses, sometimes he wished that it was a private call - these men didn’t deserve you.

sr141 commented > please, want to see your pretty lil cunt take it

he watched as you gently rubbed it along your glossy cunt, making it glisten with your arousal before sinking in. “it also vibrates,” you moaned as you thrusted it in and out of your cunt. simon was mesmerised, the way your cunt took the toy all the way in made him imagine how it felt to be buried deep snuggly in your cunt.

would you feel as tight as he imagined? would you make all those pretty noises you were making now?

sr141 commented > turn up the vibrations pretty, want to watch you fall apart

the way you blushed whenever simon commented didn’t go unnoticed, it added to his delusions that maybe you noticed him, maybe he would be offered a private call.

his strokes moved with yours, watching the way your body trembled when you turned on the vibrations, small moans coming in between your laboured pants. you were already making a damn mess on the bed, and you haven’t even came.

“‘m gonna cum, it’s too much,” you whined as your hips buckled, simon fantasying that he was the one in between your legs, tongue deep inside your cunt savouring your taste. sometimes he wondered maybe, just maybe he would make a special appearance. flaunting that he has a pretty girl to fuck in front of the cameras, claiming you.

the moment you came so did he, spilling his thick cum all over his calloused palms as he watched you lay breathless.

sr141 > just came with you baby, you were amazing

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @prettyinpink-bimbo @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969

[khioneee]

simon knew it was over the moment he realized just how freaky you are.

simon knew he was massive—he always had.

it was a quiet fear that followed him, the thought that if he lost control for even a moment, he might hurt you. his touch was always careful, deliberate.

his hands were wrapped around your neck, not tight, but gentle—just enough to feel the pulse beneath your skin. his thumbs rested softly against your throat, his grip light, careful not to leave a mark. but when you started frantically grinding your hips against his, rolling your body in desperate need, everything shifted.

a low, guttural noise rumbled from his throat as his body responded on instinct. without meaning to, his hands tightened, gripping your neck for leverage as you moved against him. he froze for a second, startled by his own strength. but then—

it happened.

you clenched tighter around him, your head falling back as a broken moan escaped your lips. you were crying out, completely undone, lost in the moment. your hips bucked harder, desperate for more, and it hit him like a bolt of lightning:

you liked it rough.

you, his innocent, angelic girl — the one with soft smiles and bright eyes, the one who blushed at the smallest touch — had been hiding it all along.

he stared at you, stunned, as you begged with your body, your innocent exterior cracking to reveal the wicked, burning desire beneath. his angel wasn't just soft and sweet

—you were freaky.

a low growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips. “you've been holding out on me, haven't you, lovie?” he murmured, his voice dark with amusement and something far more dangerous.