#call of duty x reader

[superhoeva]

john price loves to act like he can’t hear when you ask if you can come. bless you for asking but he’s a sucker for the way you try to clench and hold it for him when don’t get an answer.

he purposefully switches to an angle that has your nails raking down his back, and the man groans through a smirk. you’re begging now, crying jerking with tiny hics as your hole stretches early around him. blubbering out whining pleases and wondering if the sheets are as ruined as they feel.

john keeps fucking you. deep and relentless, and biting back the yes his cock wants him to utter. pushing the thought away, he pushes you into the mattress with the front of hip body and lets his hips continue an almost-cruel pace considering how close you’ve been. balls smacking noisily into the cream gathered at your slit.

you come with a wave of panting sorry’s and clenches eyes. the hands you have wrapped around his tremble, tensing with the rest of you.

and god, aren’t you a sight? damp and choking on those pretty noises dripped in only a little guilt. you’ve leaked out a good bit around him, your lips swollen a still pulsing warm at how his cock is still crammed inside you.

john kisses you with a grunt before pulling away and wiping one of your tears.

“almost did real good for me, bub. but did i say you could do that? did you hear me give you permission to squirt on my cock? ‘cause i didn’t…”

“‘m sorry.”

your voice is just about sweet enough to make john melt. he kisses you with a swipe of his tongue before grabbing your face with one of his hands. the squeeze is tender but keeps you as he from squirming when he starts another thrust—tight and reaching.

“i know, sweet thing felt nice, too, didn’t it? yeah?” he coos over your spilling moans, the grip on your face helping you nod along with him. “good, ‘cause we’re gonna try again… ‘n keep trying ‘til ya learn to fuckin’ listen to me for once, hm?”

blinking through your tears, you nod again. legs quaking as he pummels right against your spot. with curled toes and locked legs, you take it. take him as john pounds you to oblivion. desperate to see how many times he can make you break the rules. how hard he can make your hole squirt out his favorite drink.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[byfawn]

can't stop thinking about faking an orgasm with simon for shits and giggles and ending up getting ya shit rocked for hours because you were being a brat

simon’s got you pinned beneath him, his thick cock stretching you open so good, each thrust punching a whine from your lips. his grip on your hips is bruising, fingers digging in as he fucks you relentless, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.

“that’s it, take it,” he growls, voice rough. “fuckin’ perfect around me, ain’t ya?”

you’re close—so fucking close—but you’re feeling bratty tonight. so when the coil in your belly tightens, you force a high-pitched moan, arching your back and clenching around him like you’re coming. “oh—oh, simon, i’m—!”

he stills instantly, eyes dark as they rake over your face. and then he smirks. “liar.”

before you can protest, his hand slides between your legs, calloused fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. you gasp, hips jerking—fuck, it’s too much, you’re oversensitive already—but he doesn’t stop.

“thought you could fool me, princess?” he murmurs, leaning down to nip at your ear. “gonna make you come for real. as many times as it takes ‘til you forget how to fake it.”

his thrusts start again, harder now, his fingers relentless on your clit. you’re sobbing within minutes, nails scraping down his back as the pleasure crests, sharp and overwhelming. “s-simon, please—!”

“there it is,” he groans, feeling you flutter around him. “that’s my girl. now—” he flips you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up. “—let’s see how many more i can get outta you.”

you’re gonna regret being such a brat. but fuck, it’s so worth it.

[cameronsbabydoll]

you’re followin’ him around the house like a little duckling in heart-print pajama shorts, pink fuzzy socks, and a tank top that says ‘daddy’s girl’ in glitter letters.

he’s tryin’ to clean his guns on the coffee table. hasn’t looked up once.

“simonnn…” you whine, ploppin’ down beside him.

“what now.” flat. not a question. a warning.

“i just… i missed you…” you blink up at him, resting your chin on your hand. “also… if a plane crashes on the border of two countries… where do they bury the survivors?”

he finally looks up.

“what the fuck did you just say?”

you smile real pretty. “y’know! like… which country do they bury ‘em in?”

he just stares. dead silent.

“…jesus fuckin’ christ.”

you blink. “did i say something dumb?”

“they’re survivors, love. they don’t fuckin’ bury ‘em.”

you giggle. “ohhh…”

he sighs so hard it rattles the windows. tosses his rag onto the table.

“m’gonna lose my fuckin’ mind, swear to god.”

“simon…” you whimper, crawling into his lap. “don’t be mad…”

he leans back, big hands gripping your hips. jaw tight. eyes dark.

“what am i gonna do with you, huh? my soft little wife. can’t even figure out where a fuckin’ plane goes when it crashes.”
“was just askin’…”
“dumb girl.” he squeezes your hips hard. “head full of sparkles n’ nothin’ else.”

you whimper again, softly, nuzzling into his neck. “but i’m your wifey…”

“fuckin’ right you are.” he grabs your ass and pulls you down onto his cock, already hard beneath his sweats. “mine. my stupid little wifey who follows me ‘round like a lost fuckin’ puppy.”

“’m not stupid…”
“you are.” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “but that’s alright. i like you like this. soft. dumb. needy.”

he pulls your tank top down, lets your tits spill out. sucks a bruise into your skin.

“c’mon, then,” he mutters. “ride me. use that dumb brain for somethin’ useful.”

you bounce in his lap, messy and breathy, moanin’ into his mouth. he holds you like a toy—hands bruising, voice gruff.

“look at you,” he groans. “fuckin’ brainless, ain’t ya? all sloppy on my cock.”

“simon—simon, m’your wifey—”
“you’re my fuckin’ problem is what you are.”

you cum all over him with a high, shivery cry, babbling nonsense. he doesn’t stop. not even after.

“you ask me one more stupid question,” he pants, “and i’ll bend you over the fuckin’ oven.”

[vynlrecord]

♡ is the light sleeper in the room with us?

At first when you’d asked Simon to move in with you, he seemed excited or well, as excited as Simon allowed himself to show. Yet as it got closer and closer, you weren't so sure.

“You probably won’t ever get a good night’s sleep again. I'll constantly be disrupting it.”

"I have nightmares and night terrors, I’ll probably scare you-"

“I’m such a light sleeper, everything wakes me up and puts me in a panic."

It was almost like he was trying to dissuade you from sticking to your decision, giving you an out in case he was too difficult for you, you knew exactly how his brain worked.

But you loved him, and nothing he was saying was making you change your mind, not even close to it.

You prepared anyway, looked up everything you could with how to handle certain night terrors, best things to say or not say, whether you should wake him up if he’s having a nightmare, everything.

Then the first night came, and you were ready to be woken up at 3am, maybe to Simon shouting or crying or something and you pictured all the things you’d do to calm him down, grab him some tea, maybe gentle reassurances as you wiped his tears, whatever it took. 

But none of that happened.

The first night, he slept the whole way through, completely undisturbed and you would know because ironically you were the one who didn’t sleep the first night. You'd stayed awake, worrying, wanting to make sure he was okay, checking for even a slight twitch or a face of anguish but, nothing.

And then a few days later, on an early Sunday morning, your neighbour had decided to mow the grass. It was unbearably loud and you'd sat up, internally screaming because who chooses 7am to cut grass on a Sunday?

And Simon? Well he was completely out.

You looked at him, wondering if he was pretending for a moment, giving him a little nudge. He'd shuffled a little in his sleep before letting out a few soft snores, it was like he was on another planet completely.

And it kept happening. He'd sleep through alarms, and not just one or two but enough in a row that you had to turn them off yourself and tell him to wake up. Phone calls too, slept through every call, no matter the ringtone, no matter how loud. Your cat's 4am zoomies? Not even a flinch.

You were so confused, he'd worried constantly before moving in about ruining your sleep and now it was like sleeping was second nature to him, which you wouldn't have questioned if not for the repeated warnings of how light of a sleeper he was.

It made no sense, Simon couldn't understand it either, but you were quite happy with it of course, and so was he. Whenever you thought about it for too long, it actually made you smile, there was something sweet about it to you.

Perhaps it was your apartment, the fact that the space was yours, maybe your presence was helping him, you'd even joke it was your cat's soothing company. Or maybe it was the soft sheets, in a bedroom that felt cosy. A proper homely space, one that Simon wasn't quite used to in his old place, all bare walls and no decoration, not even a comfortable mattress. He'd never bothered with anything except the bare minimum, a vast difference to now.

Whatever it was, he was actually sleeping, peacefully for once, he couldn't remember the last time he was able to say that.

But what Simon did know, was that he felt completely safe with you and seeing him like this was the most beautiful thing to you.

[growing-wisteria]

johnny becomes fucking insatiable when you tell him you want kids btw. his eyes lit up when you first told him. got all big and starry. he was so incredibly beyond elated.

from then on, it doesn’t matter where you are. he will be rutting into you. on the couch? he’ll slide you into his lap, and paw at your ass until you’re sat on his cock. in the kitchen? he’ll gently remove whatever’s in your hand, lower the heat of the stove or oven, and press you against the counter. it’s like he can’t help himself. which, he really can’t.

and when you come to him with the news that you’re pregnant, he nearly dies of joy. even while you’re pregnant, you’re still not free, his hands on you at almost all times.

and after you give birth, you’d better believe he’ll be fucking you again as soon as you’re healed, whispering into your ear about how your kid deserves a wee sibling.

[whateveriwant]

18+, mdni. Fuck it, gentle giant Simon because I said so!!!

Gentle giant!Simon who’s got biceps the size of tree trunks and the strength to rival a grizzly bear, but the only thing he uses those muscles for is providing a cushion to rest your head on when you’re lounging in bed together

Gentle giant!Simon whose broad shoulders darken any doorway he happens to come across, but he crams himself into the tiniest corner of a packed subway car in order to leave space for you beside him

Gentle giant!Simon whose massive hands could crush a person’s skull like a piece of rotten fruit, but he’s more interested in carefully stitching up the hole you tore in your favorite jumper yesterday

Gentle giant!Simon who could easily clear the head of a grown man with one simple leap, but he utilizes that towering height of his to make silly faces at you over the tops of the shelves at the bookstore

Gentle giant!Simon whose size 14 feet are probably big enough to cause a major landslide, but he quietly tiptoes around the house when he finds you napping peacefully on the couch

Gentle giant!Simon who’s got a cock like a battering ram, which could inflict real damage if he isn’t patient, but he always makes sure to work you open before having you take him into you

Gentle giant!Simon whose voice is normally all gravel and grit, but it turns smooth as he whispers, “Shhh. It’s okay, lovie. I’ve got you,” when he pushes inside, pausing after every inch to give you a second to catch your breath

Gentle giant!Simon whose palms are rough when they come up to cradle your face, holding you steady while he thrusts, but his kisses are warm and soft when he presses his lips against yours

Gentle giant!Simon who moves cautiously when he’s deep inside you, not wanting to cause you any injury, but his big thumbs still have to swipe away the stray tears that fall from your eyes because of the way you stretch around him

Gentle giant!Simon who could make you scream and thrash and choke on him if he so cruelly desired, but he slowly, reverently makes love to you with nothing short of pure adoration

Just gentle giant!Simon who, if he wanted, could use his size for pain and intimidation and destruction, but he chooses instead to live a soft, sweet life with you.

[forsworned]

Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.

[houndofllove]

Kyle sees you sucking on an ice lolly across the sofa and he's immediately got a boner.

Doesn't matter that it's thirty degrees out right now, he's already on you, crawling over your body while you whine about how hot it is and how sweaty you both are.

"Gimme a taste, love."

And you do, firstly, pointing the colourful thing towards his face and watching yourself as he makes fuck boy eyes at you while he swirls his tongue over the top of it. Both so horny and embarrassed by him that with your palm you try to push him away, a futile effort that only has his cold and sweet lips latching onto your skin.

His kisses work you into such a bliss that you forget about the lolly in your hand, sticky juice coating your hand and you're about to complain again when your fingers are in his mouth.

Hot. Wet. Mouth. Eyes shining brighter than ever as he sucks and licks and gags. You don't think your thighs can press any closer together, in a trance as he savours the taste.

A damp kiss placed on your palm when he's done and then:

"Would like somethin' sweeter, if you don't mind."

[luvbabydoll]

john price never expected much from retirement. peace and quiet, maybe a drink at the bar in the evening, and the occasional fishing trip to keep his hands busy. but what he didn’t expect was you.

he first saw you at the local café, where you’d waltz in wearing little sundresses, always with a book in your hands, always smiling at the staff. a sweet little thing—too young for him, too pretty, too full of life. but you had a habit of looking at him, big eyes lingering a little too long, lips curling when you caught him staring back.

it didn’t take long after that.

one drink turned into two, turned into his hand resting on your thigh, turned into him murmuring in your ear, low and rough—“let’s get out of here, love.”

you barely made it through the door of his place before he had you against the wall. his hands were big, rough from years of work, gripping your hips like he was holding himself back from something deeper, something darker. but when you whined, arching up against him, his restraint snapped.

price fucked you like he had something to prove.

like he needed you to feel him, needed you ruined and wrecked and too dumb to think of anything but him. he had you on your hands and knees, dragging out those sweet, needy sounds from your throat until you weren’t sure if you were moaning and mewling.

“you take it so well,” he grunted, palming your ass, watching the way you trembled under him. “little thing like you, stretched around my cock—”

your nails scraped the sheets as you whined, pushing back into him. “p—price—”

his hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. "john, love. s’john to you now.”

and fuck, you liked that. you liked the way it sounded, the way it felt, warm and thick on your tongue as you gasped it over and over, sobbing it into the pillow when he pressed down on your back and fucked you deep.

when it was over, you should’ve left. should’ve gathered yourself, slipped out before he could say anything, made this nothing more than a memory.

but when he moved to get up, you made a soft, breathy noise and curled around him, clinging like he might disappear if you let go

"where you goin’?" you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

john exhaled through his nose, looking down at you. his hand hesitated before settling on your hip, big and warm.

"nowhere, love," he murmured, giving you just enough to keep you holding on.

[callmecoke]

Sorry I haven’t posted for a while, have a brain worm 🪱 also this is a bit sappy and self-indulgent but shut up this is my bread and butter

I got this thought about you in a poly relationship with the 141 boys and your insecurities get a hold of you.

Like, is this even fair to have multiple partners? What if they get jealous of each other? And what if you’re not enough for them eventually and they find someone else? Is it fair to keep these men to yourself? Do they want to see other people? Are you doing this all wrong?!?!?!

And when you let this all out to the boys while pacing frantically in the living room, they look at you super confused. Because at no point did any of that cross their mind once. Fairness? lol they don’t think it’s unfair, they’re enjoying themselves. Seeing another person? Why would they do that? They’ve got each other and a perfect sexy partner they want to dote on. And jealousy? Babe, that’s not even a word in their language.

[fanficfav]

STOP!!

Ahh this is so good

Poppy~!! I saw that you're taking requests now and I wanted to know, if reader had to pretend to be the spouse of a 141 member for a brief undercover mission, how do you think that would go? 🤭 I'm thinking maybe someone has a love they think is unrequited until they discover it isn't, someone else was indifferent to the act but ended up enjoying the scenario too much, another one maybe was just waiting for a chance to pin you down and this is a prime opportunity, and maybe someone else was already involved in a secret relationship and now they're "married", so it works out perfectly? Idk idk, this is my first time requesting anything from you and I am just so excited to see where you would take this idea! Thank you so much for your time, love ya!! 💖

Anon, I know you asked for this forever ago, but I never forgot about it! I certainly went the naughty route with this one. I hope that's okay! These men are thirsty, and they're salivating over the opportunity to be flirty and forward. Enjoy!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!fem!reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, brief alcohol use, flirting, vaginal fingering, piv penetration, sex club, fake relationships, mutual pining, dirty talk, voyeurism

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You clean up nice.”

“Not so bad yourself.”

Captain Price’s smile is sultry and glowing, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of you. This is a mission. This man is your superior. And yet he’s always John to you. Your John. The man you love and secretly meet when others aren’t around.

Over his shoulder the setting sun bathes the ocean in a beautiful orange, almost as if the water is on fire. The two of you linger on a balcony overlooking the ocean, pretending that the two of you are married and in simple conversation. Within is a party. Live music. An open bar with flowing liquor. Waiters with hor d'oeuvres.

Malta is beautiful. It might be summer, but the air is surprisingly cool. The salty breeze sticks to your skin. John reaches out, brushes away a few salty flecks with the pad of his thumb. He brings it to his mouth, moaning softly.

“Be professional,” you scold with a teasing smile.

“I am,” he croons. “To them, you’re my wife.” He leans in, brushing his lips along your ear. “And my wife deserves attention.”

As his lips land on your throat, licking up the bit of wayward ocean salt, John’s hand delicately grasps your ass, squeezing.

“We have a job to do,” you murmur, grasping his arm, giving him more of your throat.

“We have the whole week. Target isn’t going anywhere. Not when he’s the honored guest.”

“Champagne?”

John draws back, shifting his stance to block your view of the waiter. “Thanks, mate,” grins John, snagging two flutes. He offers you one.

“This isn’t a vacation,” you chide, taking the flute. The bubbly liquid bursts and fizzes on your tongue.

“We’re in Malta. Staying in a castle. And I get to spend the week referring to you as my wife.” John takes your hand, his thumb brushing over the gold band on your finger. “Think I like this.”

“You think?”

John glances up, and your heart stops. “Would you like that? Wearing a band that marks you as mine?”

“John,” you breathe.

“Say yes,” he murmurs. “And we’ll go back to the room right now.”

“You’d risk the mission just to fuck me?”

“No question, love.”

John’s hand descends again, cupping your ass, squeezing roughly. “If you don’t want to go back to the room and fuck—”

“Oh, stop,” you giggle, smacking his chest.

“—then how about we have a dance.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Your cheeks flame as you turn away from the faces in the room.

It’s not that any of them are really looking at you, or where Johnny’s hand is, or what he’s doing with his fingers. Nearly everyone else in the room is doing something lecherous—something dirty. Johnny is simply fitting in, pushing the agenda, making those around him believe that he’s fingering his wife and not his fucking teammate.

“You’re a fucking lucky man.”

You roll your eyes, and then stifle a moan as Soap pinches your clit between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, aye,” croons Johnny, nipping your earlobe. “The luckiest.”

Burying your face in Soap’s neck, your breathing quickens, nails digging into his shoulder. A little moan escapes you, but it’s eclipsed by others who are much louder.

This wasn’t part of the mission. The mission was to attend this gathering, for Soap to be nothing more than a businessman seeking a lucrative deal, and you nothing more than his pretty arm candy. What wasn’t supposed to happen was a fucking orgy.

The target in question is sitting in a lounge chair next to Johnny, his mistress in his lap, legs spread open so the whole room can see her bouncing on his cock. They aren’t the only ones engaged in sexual activity. Most of the room is doing something, or they’re watching.

Noticing the shift, Johnny had dragged you into his lap, situating you so that he could easily finger-fuck you but no one would be receiving a show. For that, you’re thankful, but fuck, you weren’t expecting this, let alone enjoying it as much as you are.

With perfect precision, Soap rocks two fingers in and out of your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit in tandem with his movements. The orgasm sprouts, blooms, explodes in color. You bite down on Soap’s shoulder to muffle the cry.

“She’s a lovely thing,” the target groans, and the blissful mood dissipates.

“Careful,” growls Soap. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

You’re fake wife, you mentally correct. But you smile, preening with the way Soap stakes a claim.

Johnny’s hand starts up again, and you shiver.

“You’re doing so well, lass,” he whispers against your ear. “So fucking tight.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers, and Soap groans.

With his other hand, Johnny tugs at the front of his pants, opening the fly. Reaching down, you slip your hand underneath, grasping his cock. Johnny’s eyelids flutter, and when he looks at you, you understand the silent communication. Like everyone else in this room, the two of you will be expected to fuck.

Better him than a stranger.

Johnny helps, bringing you into his lap as your stroke him to hardness. This will never leave this room. You will never mention this to the rest of the team. As you sink down on him, Soap adjusts your dress, covering what’s happening beneath. You grasp the back of his neck, using it as leverage to come down on him as he pumps up into you.

You press your forehead against his, exchanging breaths.

“Making a proper wife of you,” he teases.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” you smile.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“We look good together.”

Kyle’s comment catches you off-guard. “What?” you laugh, pressing your hand to your fluttering stomach.

He saunters up beside you, lowering his head in an intimate familiarity. “Captain made the right call. Putting us together.”

You giggle, lightly pushing him with a carefully placed hand to the middle of his chest. “It’s pretend, Kyle. We’re bugging the place and then we’re leaving.”

“We can have a bit of fun,” he smiles, tapping the tip of your nose. “We’re married.”

His teasing and playful smile is warming something low in your belly. You’ve always had a soft spot for Garrick, but you’ve never pushed it any further than some light teasing.

“Fake married, sergeant.”

Kyle drapes his arm around your back and over your hip, pulling you in close. “Need to act like we love each other.” Slowly, and with such affection your heart skips a beat, Kyle presses his lips to your throat.

You twist out of his grasp, flustered and overwhelmed by the attention. But Kyle is all smiles, reaching for you again as the two of you walk up to the house. An “Open House” sign with an array of balloons is out front. Several groups of couples and realtors in suits linger out front chatting about the lawn. The house itself is large, bordering on mansion.

But you and Kyle aren’t there to house shop.

This home is owned by a wealthy businessman. He used to make his money on real estate, but now he’s shifted into drugs and weaponry. More lucrative. Under the table. This home is just one of many targets. The goal is to bug it.

There might be a “for sale” sign out front, but it’s for show. The property already has a buyer. This is just to make it look legit.

“Welcome. I’m Heather.”

Heather, the realtor, extends her hand. Kyle accepts it, keeping his other hand attached to your lower back.

“It’s a beautiful home,” replies Kyle. “Eager for a look.”

Heather beams. “It really is stunning, isn’t it?”

“How big are the bedrooms?” asks Kyle. “Plan on growing our family. Space is important.”

“You’ll love the master. Lots of room,” replies Heather, gesturing toward the open front door. “The rest of the bedrooms have a good range in size to be used as bedrooms for children. Office space. A nursery.”

“Hear that, love,” smiles Kyle. “Lots of options.”

“Sounds like we need to take a look,” you say with an easy smile, leaning into Kyle’s arm.

“Grab a refreshment and explore. Let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” nods Kyle, urging you further into the house.

When the two of you are out of earshot, you pinch his arm. “You’re having far too much fun.”

Kyle chuckles. “Don’t like the idea of me knocking you up?”

“Kyle,” you hiss, smacking his arm.

“They’d be cute little buggers.”

You smack him again.

“Could start now.”

You playfully dart away. “We have a house to bug,” you hiss.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“He likes a show.”

“I know,” you murmur, pressing closer to Simon’s chest.

He’s being a gentleman about the whole fucking thing, and for that, you’re thankful, but neither of you expected this when you agreed.

“Won’t come otherwise. Need him alone.”

You sigh, tapping your forehead against Simon’s bare chest repeatedly. “Why did he have to be a voyeur.” Simon’s rumbling chuckle is soothing.

He runs his hands up and down your back. “Promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentleness isn’t what I’m worried about,” you murmur. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

Simon’s arms tighten around you, his tone dropping to a teasing tone. “Think I won’t make you come?”

You bark a laugh, and then stifle it by smothering your face into his chest. “You’re not funny.”

“It’s only for a bit.” Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you back so he can gaze into your eyes. “All they know is that we’re married and we like it when people watch. Which is why the target is interested. We need him to watch us. To get comfortable. Let his guard down. The team will swoop in and take care of the rest.”

You inhale deeply. “I’m ready.”

“Are you?”

You nod, and Simon draws your mouth to his. It’s tender. Soft. A ghost of a touch. You open for him, and Simon dives in, tongue meeting tongue. You grow dizzy. Light-headed. When he breaks the kiss, you almost stumble.

Simon smirks. “You can pretend that you like me.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

You grasp his hand, pushing back the black curtain, revealing the dimly lit room. The edges of the room are all in shadow, but in the center, where the lone light illuminates, is an elevated platform. It’s covered in plush black velvet and pillows. An altar. You lead Simon to it, swaying your hips in a slow dance.

Just as you turn toward Simon, you glimpse the target seated in the corner. Most of his face is obscured, but you recognize the shape. If Simon notices him, he doesn’t show it. His attention is fully on you, his dark eyes burning behind the half-skull mask. You have a matching one, also in black to pair with the lace bralette and panties.

Simon’s hands are everywhere, grasping, touching. His lips find yours, and you sink into him, trying to focus only on him. That is the point after all, to pretend that he’s your husband, that you’re here for him to fuck you in front of others.

And that’s exactly what he does.

The intensity in which Simon puts you on your back, strokes your legs, and opens you wide is more than a job. He is worshiping you, lips traversing over every inch, hands touching everything. You groan and gasp, arching into his embrace, crying out when his tongue finds your sensitive clit.

You don’t care that there are others in the room. That you’re being watched. It’s nice, actually, to be desired in both ways.

“Taste so good,” groans Simon, running his tongue over your pussy.

You’re lost in him, and when Simon ascends to slot is cock at your entrance, your legs fall wider. Hooking his arms around your legs, Simon thrusts relentlessly, each connection pushing bright bursts of air from your lungs.

The pleasure of him inside you is so profound, that you don’t realize the room is being stormed by men in tactical gear until Simon throws himself atop you, shielding your body from view. He acts protective, and in moments the room clears, and the target is dragged away. You cling to him, unmoving, both of you breathing heavy.

“We should go, shouldn’t we?” you ask after a few lengthy seconds. Simon remains where he is, unmoving. His cock is still inside you. “Simon?”

His lips find yours again, and then he’s thrusting, lifting you against him. “Need to finish pleasing my wife.”

“Simon. I’m not your wife,” you whimper as he grinds his hips against you.

“Oh, love. You could be.”

[shinoko-oshi]

Knight x Witch

I know if I'm haunting you, You must be haunting me, It's where we go, It's where we'll be, I know if I'm on to you, you must be on to me

Simon had been sent on a mission with only one outcome: your death.

The kingdom’s most trusted knight, sworn to protect its lands and its royals.

One of which being from you, the witch who lived deep within the forbidden forest.

He’d expected a wretched creature with sharp, ragged nails and evil, glowing eyes, draped in the shadows of your own wickedness. Instead, when he found you standing amidst the beauty of the wild woods, you were nothing like the wives’ tales or stories. You were breathtaking, a vision that didn’t match nor belong to the darkness they claimed you did.

“You know why I’m here?” he spoke firmly, yet something wavered beneath it.

“To kill me.” You answered without hesitation, as if the thought did not concern you in the slightest. No fear laced your tone.

And maybe that was the moment you bewitched him, though he never saw you cast a spell.

Or maybe, as he stood there gripping the handle of his sword, the very one he was expected to kill you with. He realized you had done nothing to deserve death. You never once attacked the kingdom, never even stepped foot past its borders. In fact, you lived alone, hidden away in a cottage so deep within the woods that even finding you had been a feat.

So he left you. He spared you.

And yet in the nights that followed, you would not leave him. Your face, your voice, the look in your eyes, he saw it all in his dreams, felt it even when sleep refused to take him.

You haunted him, not like a curse. No, something worse. A pull, an ache, a question he couldn’t silence no matter how hard he tried.

And for weeks, he fought it, tried to ignore the way his thoughts always circled back to you. But it was no use.

He couldn’t help it. Finally, he rode back into the forest, pushing deeper until he found you right where he left you. You were knelt down in your garden, hands dusted with dirt from the herbs you’d been plucking, turning around when you heard his voice.

“You’re haunting me,” he spoke, unsure if it was an accusation or something far more different, because he didn’t know if this was your magic at work or if it was simply just him.

Master list

[pricespet]

⋆.˚ and they were roommates | s. ghost riley x fem reader

₊⊹ 1.8k wc. ⭑.ᐟ you are not attracted to simon. you are not attracted to simon. ᝰ.ᐟtags: explicit smut 18+ only + roommate au + size kink + ill prep + Simon is a bit mean + degradation + unprotected sex + creampie

With a towel wrapped tightly around your wet body, you cracked the bathroom door open, whipping your head from side to side once it was poked out enough to see the empty hotel room.

Simon was gone.

Your elusive roommate must've left when you got into the shower like a shadow, moving quietly and scaring you more times than not.

In the dead of winter, the whole apartment building's heat had gone out, leaving everyone freezing and with nowhere to go. Your landlord's hand was forced to pay for a few nights somewhere warm.

So, a hotel it was, with one damn bed.

A queen at that, which was already difficult because Simon is a big man.

Tall and broad, his presence bearing down on you like an invisible weight you tried to talk yourself into hating, you hated it, truly.

That's what you told yourself to stuff the feelings that grew for him like wildflowers. Despite stomping on them, over and over until you were satisfied. However, that feeling never came. You wanted him.

Simon, on the other hand, suffered the same fate. He found himself thinking about you even at work, while talking to his friends, your soft smile and pretty singing in the morning kept him coming home.

It's been a year since you found his ad looking for a quiet roommate who didn't bother him, and after the first time meeting you, he canceled on the other people who applied because he wanted you.

You stepped out into the room, feeling instantly grimy from the carpet that you were sure hadn't seen a good vacuum since the place first opened decades ago, as you struggled to keep the cheaply made towel wrapped around you with an air of frustration.

You were on a time crunch.

You attempted to scrub your body dry with the see-through towel, wondering how much it had been used and then washed. Of course, you'd get to stay in the cheapest hotel, with cold water too.

After you pulled on your shorts, leaving you in nothing but them, Simon stepped inside. The air quickly became warm as the flame of embarrassment kissed your cheeks, heating your entire face.

His eyes immediately zeroed in on your bare tits.

Simon didn't hide that he checked you out, appreciating the view in front of him. You were too stunned to move for a good few seconds, letting him gawk at you with that quiet stare that made you gush.

Before he could say or do anything, you retreated into the bathroom like a dog that was caught in the trash. You clicked the door shut and plastered your back to it, your chest heaving and your nipples stiff and tingly with the desire to be caressed, pinched, and sucked on.

You knew his hands were rough. One time, he grabbed your arm when you were doing dishes with your headphones on so you didn't hear him when he came in, effectively scaring you.

Several minutes passed as you collected yourself the best you could after pulling on your old shirt you left in here.

He was out there and there was no escaping him unless you made a mad dash for the door, but Simon was bigger, taller...the thought alone had your pussy throbbing with want, despite you hating it.

How easy would it be for him to pin you down on the mattress and have his way with you? Would a fight be more fun for him?

Those questions tumbled in your head like a heavy load until you cracked the door open and stepped back into the room, making a miscalculated step to the door before Simon was up and on you.

He towered over you, his broad frame blocking out the lamp in the corner of the room, casting a shadow over you, his silence deafening.

Simon stepped forward, making you back up until you hit the bed with the back of your knees before losing your balance. You tried to reach out, but Simon just watched you flop with that quiet stare.

Your chest still heaved, and the loose material of your shorts fell from how loose they were, giving Simon a peek of that soft cunt he's been thinking about. He could read your body and know what you want.

On occasion you have left your books out when you put them down to do something, leaving the pages open for all to see—well, just for Simon to see, but that was enough with what he read.

Silence stretched between you two like never-ending taffy as your fingers curled into the thin sheets on the bed, and your thighs burned with anticipation of him spreading them to have his way with you.

His hands came down to rest on your knees, his touch electric, making you shift and sit up until you were face-to-face with him.

"Was your pretty arse waitin' for me to come in? All you had to do was ask if I wanted to see you naked." Simon almost cooed, his hand trailing up your body, making you shiver as he grasped your cheeks.

He squished your cheeks together, watching your lips spread and take on a funny shape. Your pussy had its own heartbeat and made a mess of your panties. Simon shook your head yes, then no, firmly.

"I think you're smart enough to answer my question." Simon sighed and kneeled on the bed, further spreading your legs as his fingers played with your lips before pushing past them into your mouth.

Simon held the back of your head now as he watched you suck his middle finger like it was his dick, all hungry and desperate for him. "My pretty cock sucker. Wish it was the real thing?" He teased making you whimper and drool around his finger as you grasped his wrist.

If anyone had asked if tonight would've ended like this, you'd call them a liar. Your eyes glazed over, making it easy for Simon to push you down until he had you pinned against the mattress with his weight. He withdrew his finger and wiped it on your face.

"You like it rough, mhm?"

You nodded dumbly, your hand blindly feeling up his chest, how his blood ran hot under his muscles and how they twitched as you dragged your palm down to slide it under his shirt with a whine.

He pulled back and grabbed the hem of your shirt, pushing it up. "Open." You obeyed and parted your lips, letting him stuff it in your mouth before he shifted and kneeled between your legs.

A year of simmering want had boiled over and Simon wasn't hiding it.

Neither were you.

As soon as he hooked his fingers into your panties, you lifted your hips and let him take them off, baring your whole body to him now. Rough palms trailed down your chest, stopping at your tits.

Simon tweaked your stiff nipples, watching as you squirmed and rubbed your legs together until he pried them apart. "So fuckin' wet."

His hand came down to cup your pussy before pulling away to slap you with a filthy squelch that made your ears burn. It wasn't a harsh sting, but a pleasant one that mingled with pleasure, intoxicating you.

You whined when he breached your entrance, probing in a teasing way that had you wetting his whole fucking palm in response.

"Fuck me! Please!" You cried, frustration spilling from your eyes.

He pulled back and clicked his tongue. "Makin' demands like you're in charge here? Fuckin' cute, sweetheart." Simon pinched your nipple, making you squeal and arch your back off the bed as he played with you, his fingers barely inching inside your wet and swollen pussy.

Time passed and you weren't sure how long it was until Simon unbuckled his belt, the soft metal clinking pulled you from the cloud you were floating on. "Want to feel you cum on my cock. I think I deserve a reward after getting you nice and worked up." He sighed.

You felt the heavy weight of his cock slap your pussy as Simon shifted and placed himself between your legs again, his hips flush to your thighs. Your gaze drifted down to his dick, your eyes growing wide. "That won't fit inside me!" You cried and wiggled your hips.

"Let's find out." Simon grinned and pulled his hips back enough to catch his cockhead on the soft opening of your cunt before spearing you open little by little until he was halfway in and you were gone.

Drool and dazed eyes, Simon clapped you on your cheek gently and chuckled. "Haven't got my dick all the way inside you and you're actin' cock-drunk already. Get ready for a big stretch, hold onto me baby."

With his words floating somewhere in the static that filled your head, you grabbed onto his shoulders, biting down on your shirt that muffled your squeal when he bottomed out, forcing you to stretch and accommodate around his fat cock that carved out a spot in you.

"Look at you." Simon praised as he bullied his dick in and out of you with a slow pace that left you feeling dizzy as he filled you in a way you've never been filled, you swore he was in your damn throat.

Tears filled your eyes that he kissed away as he rocked his hips. Bottoming out each time, feeling you clench around him, unable to tell if your body was trying to push him out or suck him in more.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as the feeling of being so stuffed full of cock took over all your senses, injecting you with Simon. He was everywhere, his large hand palming your tit while the other played with your clit, feeling how you choked his cock with your tight cunt.

Simon's pace turned brutal now, slamming his hips into you to the point where you knew walking tomorrow would leave you bowlegged, as well as his dick that stole each breath, his heavy breathing echoed in your ear. "You take cock so easy. I might need you after a long day of work, nothin' better than sinkin' my cock into my sweet little bird."

His words had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you choked on your whimpers that he forced out each time he was balls deep in you, your cunt so snug and creamy it made his dick twitch.

He knew that the bed was squeaking, making a lot more noise than what should be coming from the room, but he didn't care. Not when you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. "My cock slut, always ready to please and pounce on it, eh love?" Simon teased.

What are you going to say?

No?

You've thought about it countless times.

You couldn't say a single word but slurred moans as your cunt clamped tight around him, gushing and squriting making the bed an entire mess as you screamed around your shirt that was soaked with spit and tears. Your vision blurred for a moment as you clung to him.

How long has it been since you've came like that?

Never, you were certain on that.

Simon fucked you through your high forcing you to endure his cock bullying your puffy cunt that leaked his thick load of cum once he reached his peak. "Blood fuckin' hell, just fucked my load deep inside your sweet pussy. Be good 'f me and keep in there." He murmured as he kissed you, all hot breath and sweaty hands that held your face.

[leyavo]

Sergeant!Reader that’s normally assigned as Soap’s shadow. Where he falls back, you step in. Even finish each others sentences over comms, Gaz and Ghost stumbling over their words as they try to the do same. A bit of rivalry between the four of you.

Price is forever mumbling down the line and threatening to split you two up. He’d love a bit more silence.

“Might need to trim that moustache captain, can’t hear a word ye’ saying.” A string of curse words echoing in response and a “can ya hear me now Soap?”

What they didn’t plan on though was you both being afraid of big dogs. Johnny and you cornered by a group of rabid hounds. “A pack of demon dogs.”

Johnny’s murmuring prayers, confessing his sins and apologising for eating that yoghurt you left in the fridge. So he did see the label.

You can hear Ghost telling you to just shoot. “Can’t shoot a dog a L.T,” you say, nudging Johnny forwards because he’s got more muscle on his bone than you. Gaz ends up swooping in and saving you from the snarling beasts, you don’t step out of his shadow till you’re back on safe ground.

Johnny can’t shut up about how you tried to feed him to the dogs. “They should have sacrificed you, wouldn’t have to listen to you go on mate,” Kyle mumbles, which turns into a debate on what flavour of dogfood you’d all be.

He complains so much that Price makes you both work at the kennels till you learn to be around dogs. “I hang around with you guys, isn’t that enough?” You may have earnt yourself another month there.

Ghost and Gaz pop by for moral support (to see you two squirm and later help you).

[Masterlist]

[fanficfav]

Freaking love!!!

Autumn Embers Masterlist

Omegaverse where people who are compatible have complementary scents. Pheromones aren’t everything, of course, but you’ll get more cohesive group dynamics if everyone has scents that go together. Scent blockers and diffusers are everywhere in common spaces, so it’s not like people who’s scents don’t mesh can’t be around each other. Lots of people with subtler or hard to pin down scents only go au naturel on special occasions with family and their special someone.

Read on AO3

Part 1 - Introductions

Part 2 - Work Introductions

Part 3 - Oakmoss

Part 3A - The Cake (SMUT, 18+, MDNI, NSFW)

Part 4 - Courting (Part 1)

Part 5 - Courting (Part 2)

Pre-Reader

Forming the Pack (Part 1) - John and Simon (SFW)

Forming the Pack (Part 1) [Alternate Ending] - John and Simon (18+, MDNI, NSFW)

Forming the Pack (Part 2) - John, Kyle, and Simon (SFW)

Forming the Pack (Part 3) - John, Kyle, Simon, and Soap (SFW)

Rut (And A New Interest) - Price x Gaz featuring Ghost and Soap

Meta

Writing about the real world in fanfiction - discussing reproductive freedom, imperialism, and the 4B movement in fanfiction