angelatsumu
mac.
blk & 23 | dreaming of m.atsumu + k.nahoya <3 | sfw + nsfw [minors dni] | jjk + hq + bnha + tr
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Self care is writing fan fiction that you are the sole target audience for.
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You and Simon are that couple who have a lot of inside jokes. You'll text him, "Send dick," and it's a picture of someone who gets on his nerves (it varies and Graves and Johnny have been featured a couple times). He'll text you, "Send tits," and it's different pictures of the bird.
It becomes your way of checking up on each other when he's deployed.
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It's time y'all.
Let's talk about HOBIE & RACE
- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would display black solidarity by finding black women in specific attractive.
- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would possibly like a partner who could understand his experiences with racism.
- It is not problematic to say he would possibly like a partner who understands how to take care of his hair, or shares the same hair texture.
- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would find beauty in features specific to the black race - when we have been told those features are undesirable in every way for centuries.
We gotta talk about how Colorblindness is forced on Black Characters - Hobie in Specific
Y'all - it's time we have a VERY VERY overdue conversation about Hobie Brown and Race.
Because it is a necessary one.
Hobie Brown, The Black!Reader, & Representation -
aka Black people are not Colorblind - and neither is Hobie Brown -
[let Diane hop on the mic right quick Chile]
Stop acting like Black Fictional Characters would be colorblind.
Black people can't be colorblind, because our color is weaponized against us from birth. We HAVE to see race - because we have to protect ourselves and know our own history
So when we decide to make spaces specifically for us - spaces where black people and black women in specific can be desired and uplifted, I don't see why people have a problem with it.
Hobie Brown loves, yes. But he also lives in 1978. Racial segregation was outlawed in his country in 1965.
Hobie Brown loves, but he's also a black guy who grew up under racial segregation and racism. He's a black guy who fights cops.
The Writers made Spiderpunk - The Spiderperson who fights oppressive cops - black for a REASON.
The Writers chose to have a black guy save Miles for a REASON. To uplift black people.
Writers here on Tumblr made Black!Readers black for same reason.
If Black Lives Matter doesn't mean White Lives Don't Matter -
Then 'Hobie Brown finds black chicks especially attractive' DOESN'T mean 'white women are unattractive'. This isn't about y'all.
And even for the people that say Hobie would like ONLY black people - okay??? They can say that - it's a literal headcanon.
It's not true if you don't want it to be. You don't have to believe it.
But seeing Black people be protective of a black character, and making black content for other black fans - and then saying 'what - stop that. that's wrong. break this up so I can join'
BEFORE you question why they do it - NOT COOL.
That's like asking for more Captain America in Black Panther. Like ?????
That's like hearing a Riot Grrrl say 'All the women to the front!!' and going 'Uhh, all genders are equal, why can't the men stand in the front too?'
Like yes, all genders are equal. But also - This isn't about them. It's about representation.
Stop preaching equality when we're asking for representation.
Cause there are dozens, hundreds, of white characters who only have white on-screen romances.
And their fandoms do not write black!readers. They do not care enough to say 'oh the show isn't representing this, let us do it.'
The media nor the fandom represent black women. They are an afterthought, always.
And you never see posts for them like -
'Dean Winchester loves black women. Dean Winchester loves latinas -'
When it's a white character only dating white women, with xReaders that always imply whiteness, y'all never call for diversity. At all.
You wouldn't make this post for Miguel.
But when it's a black character and someone suggests they only date black women, or people begin to write xReaders that imply blackness instead of your default-
Suddenly you care about diversity.
Because the first time, you're not represented.
Because let's be honest. Let's be real. No one is writing Hobie x White!Reader. Barely anyone is writing Hobie x Latina!Reader.
It's the Black!Reader you have a problem with. Let's just say it.
Allow black people to have their space, without unfairly calling for 'diversity'.
(aka the right to access to black safe spaces, comfort characters, and labor)
Hobie is an attractive, educated black guy who fights and protects people from the aggressors we ourselves genuinely fear everyday.
He is a character like we've never had before. He has so much emotional weight to us.
Let us enjoy him as we please. We aren't hurting anyone else.
We're just not catering to you. We don't have to.
If a black person wants to center Hobie's love on Black people, they have the right.
And I'm not saying you can't write him with a race neutral or even a White!Reader. Go ahead and write that if you want but just know-
1) If you want to write him with an explicitly white or non-black reader - you should approach the topic of race. You should approach and mention the cultural differences. Him going through racism. Don't erase that because you think it makes your writing ugly or sad.
And if you don't put it in, your erasing the reality and black experience because you find something wrong or uncomfortable about it.
2) If you want to write a race neutral reader - make sure they're really race neutral. Don't include details about hair texture, hairstyle, or skin color.
3) If you are asking black writers for requests - do not get mad if they make the request Black.
You cannot get mad at a black writer for interjecting their own experience when writing about a black character. You're basically asking them to strip their blackness from their writing so you can enjoy it more.
Why should they have to second guess and dial back their blackness when we're expected to do that everywhere? If they want to take a break, and write Black!Readers they can.
3) Understand that the black people are going to keep their safe spaces. And they're going to keep Hobie in their corner.
Because honestly, and I'm going to put this brazenly:
Hobie Brown as a character - and what he represents - means more to black fans than it does nonblack fans.
Does that mean he doesn't matter to y'all? No, not at all. Hobie absolutely holds real emotional weight and meaning to you on multiple levels.
But please understand, for black people - we connect to Hobie on an emotional, often trauma-fueled front.
One that you'll never understand.
There is a level that we connect with him on that nonblack people can't. As a dark skinned black guy, a black guy with natural hair, an alt black guy,
As a black guy who has canonically faced police brutality on-screen
To you, this screenshot is most likely Hobie flipping the camera off, edgy and punk. It's funny, tongue in check. ACAB and all that.
To us, this screenshot is of Hobie - a low income black guy - being physically restrained by police and refusing to stop even when they're taking his mugshot. It's a black guy openly flipping off the police and fighting them off and refusing to go down no matter how much they beat him and he's winning YES
After so many videos over SO many years of cops doing that to black men and them.. not winning.
And them just dying and us having to watch. And add another name to list.
When you see his laces, you most likely think ACAB.
When we see his laces, we see that he's a black man who took on a cop and lived to tell the tale. Which is a RARITY.
Because many of them lose the battle.
For us, the context and connection are completely different.
Fanfiction may just be a way for you to kiss up on random characters or comfort yourself, but for us - that's not the case.
For us, fanfiction is a way to show our experiences and features in a media and world that has collectively ignored them. Shunned them, called them ugly.
Maybe make a post or send an ask to a creator - and ask what Black!Readers mean for them, why they find it important.
Hobie Brown likes Black Girls.
He finds them beautiful. He likes wide lips and broad noses and kinky hair. He loves melanin, and brown skin in the sunlight, and seeing a them in a silk bonnet in the morning.
He loves not having to explain his culture, sharing coconut oil and shea butter. He likes seeing waist beads. He likes people who speak AAVE, with twang in their talk.
He likes ghetto black girls with the acrylic nails. He likes Stallions 6 foot tall. He likes masc girls. And fem ones. He loves black nonbinary people because we do not have to cosign to colonialist ideas of gender. And he loves him some black men too - a good fade will make him go crazy, he loves men with long locs and pretty smiles.
Hobie Brown finds the beauty in Black People that have been erased and demonized again and again by White Society.
Hobie Brown holds blackness dear. And he wants black people to do well.
Hobie Brown loves Black People. Hobie Brown loves Black Girls.
And that's on, what?
This has been a PSA from Diane Pastors. Y'all stay blessed out there 😌💗
Anyway what y'all wearing to carnival since we going to carnival and cropover and labor day with Hobie and bringing out all the flags. 🇧🇧🇧🇧 I'm bringing him to cropover in Barbados yeah I said it we're all going to carnival with him.
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hollow purple
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It appeared that I condone simply having sex after your partner belittles your relationship and I want to say that I do not condone toxic themes like that…please appreciate it was fictional and not at all a representation of who I am as a writer or person >:)
hi! it seems like my last fic was a bit on the unkind side, and many may not have appreciated that…so it’ll be gone soon <3 sorry for that
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hi! it seems like my last fic was a bit on the unkind side, and many may not have appreciated that…so it’ll be gone soon <3 sorry for that
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this has actually driven me insane, thank you so much @abcdbleh 🫶🏼
as difficult as it was to believe, your older bf!simon was only human after all.
he was only a man.
and he wasn’t a young man- well, as young as he used to be. he moved a little slower and his back ached if he sat too long and half the music on the radio pissed him off.
he could keep up with the youngest of ‘em, he could probably still run rings around them. somehow, he managed to keep up with you- his pretty young thing.
it was you that was begging “no more!” when you’d already cum five times and he’s gearing you up for the next.
it was you that was complaining your thighs were sore cause you’d been riding him the better part of an hour, he’d cum twice and was expecting another before calling mercy.
it was you that was falling asleep whilst he was hip deep in you and mumbling a quiet “keep going, si” because he could go all night.
but there were just some things that’d never change.
when he was laid back on the couch, you were straddling his lap and your chest pressed to his as his tongue drove straight into your mouth.
your hands were running through his cropped hair as your hips rolled firmly against his with a pathetic little whine. simon’s hands moving from your waist to grip your ass and pull you harder into him.
making out like you were back in school, like an adult might catch you, like this was all you were going to get. he could feel the heat rising all over his body and he hadn’t even got your trousers off.
“so fuckin’ good for me, m’sweet”
you moaned into his mouth as his words got muffled on your tongue. your hands coming to cup his jaw as you felt the strong lines of it under your hand.
hips rolling messily, grinding yourself down on his hard cock that was barely confined in his trackies. you could feel his hands moving up your back, spreading across your shoulders and keeping you close.
you whimpered for him as your hips bucked into him.
“yours, simon- always yours”
there goes the floodgates.
simon tensed rock solid beneath you, his head tipping back against the arm of the couch as his jaw hung open. you could feel his hips spasming beneath you as you watched the look on his face.
fuck, you could watch this all day.
feeling a warmth spreading beneath you, hips still stuttering as your hands dropped to feel his abs clench beneath his hoodie.
“thats it, si- y’look so good”
against all odds, simon let out a desperate moan as his back arched and you felt another shot of warmth beneath you. your eyes felt hazy and your blood was rushing in your ears as you watched him come back down.
as if he hadn’t just cum in his pants like a fucking schoolboy, he lifted you back until you were pressed to the other end of the couch. pushing between your thighs, you could feel his breath through your clothes.
“si, please”
he chuckled, dark and right back in control- however, it wasn’t lost on you how he shuddered when his crotch brushed against the couch cushions.
“don’t think you’ve any idea just what you do t’me”
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BC!simon smut is my new prescription (no but fr when i’m having a shit day i just go through that tag bc i need him bad)
I’m having the absolute worst week. work fucking sucks and now I have a cold. so it’s comfort hours with bc!simon. but like kinda mean dom simon 🥺
c/n: smut, bondage, kindameandom!simon, female reader, edging, crying during sex, simon pulls all that negative tension from your body with his dick
just imagine getting snippy with him when he gets home, mumbling under your breath and glaring at him when he tracks in mud on your clean carpet
he doesn’t say a word just lets you have your moment. tucks the kids into bed and stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you wash up
can see the tension in your shoulders so he just comes up to you, presses a kiss to the top of your head and tells you to go and wait for him in your room
finishes up the washing for you before coming to find you. finds you waiting for him on the end of your bed, wearing nothing but your panties and the shirt you always sleep in. some oversized limp bizkit shirt that simon stopped wearing years ago
“had a bad day, lovie?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he walks over to you. his calloused hand reaches up to pinch the soft cheeks on your face
“simon-“ you begin to speak but he just shakes his head, shushing you softly
“heard enough out of your mouth for one night. answer the question. yes or no?” he says, hands reaching down to unbuckle his trousers. you give him a slow nod
“see? know you can be good for me, can’t ya, dolly?” he grumbles out, flicking his head up as an instruction to raise your arms
he undresses you, a heavy silence filling your shared bedroom as he helps you shuffle up the bed before tying your wrists to the bedposts with his leather belt
“can see how tense you are, darlin’. don’t worry, ‘m gonna take care of ya’. you just need your husband to make it alright.” he hums, tugging on your wrist to make sure your restraints weren’t too tight nor too loose
“‘red’ if ya’ wanna stop, yeah?” he checks in, pulling off his t-shirt and trousers. you nod your head again, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache that rests between them
he’d kiss down from your neck to your abdomen, slipping off your panties with ease before diving straight in, soft groans leaving his throat as he drags his tongue through your slit
spends a good 30 minutes sucking and lapping at your sopping cunt, bringing you to the edge over and over but never giving you that sweet release, always pulling away right before your body falls into that out of euphoria
“simon! you said you were gonna take care of me! you’re being mean!” you whine out, bucking your hips to try and meet his lips after he left you teetering on the edge. again…
he lets out a grunt in response, switching positions so he’s kneeling between your spread legs,
“I know. ‘m such an horrible bastard, aren’t I?” he says with a teasing tone, fishing his cock out from boxers and dragging the tip through your slit
“breathe.” is all the warning he gives you before slipping his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt with one swift thrust of his hips
the sudden invasive feeling of his cock filling you up knocks the air of of your lungs, your hands desperate to reach out to grip his shoulders for leverage but the tight belt around your wrists restricts you
he wastes no time in pushing the top of your thighs to your chest, setting an animal pace as he begins to fuck your pussy
“si-simon!” you gasp out, your body moves in time with each of his thrusts, one of his hands resting on the crown of your head to stop you hitting it against the wooden headboard
“promise me one thing, yeah, sweethear’? one thing and i’ll let ya cum…” he grunts, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss just below your earlobe
his brutal pace combined with the former orgasm denial meant it didn’t take long for you to start teetering towards the edge again. your hands tug on your makeshift restraints, letting a soft whine escape your throat
“please, anything. please, si…” you beg and plead. almost pathetically, in simon’s opinion but it’s okay… he knows how bad you need it
the loud slapping of his hips hitting yours echoes throughout the room as he leans down, his pace never falters as he rests his forehead against yours
“next time you’re having a bad day, you’ll ask your husband to fuck ya better instead of walking around givin’ me lip…” he grunts, “promise me that and i’ll let ya cum, pretty…”
you nod your head erratically, tears welling up in your eyes and the overwhelming realisation that you’re so close to getting what you want, to feeling those euphoric waves crash all over your body and suck all the tension and stress from your bones
“promise, fuck, I promise…!” you sob out, tears slipping down your cheeks. you can’t even wait for further permission from simon. your orgasm claws it’s way out of you, vocalising itself with loud sobs
simon places his hand over your mouth, worried your load moans will wake the sleeping children in the next room
his pace never falters as he fucks you through your orgasm, your tears down your cheeks and onto his knuckles. your pussy pulses around his cock, milking his own orgasm from him shortly after
the feeling off his hot cum flushing the walls of your pussy adds a whole other layer of pleasure to your climax. you yank on the restraints and look up at simon with your teary eyes
he takes his hand from your mouth, your loud sobs having turned into the soft cries as he reaches to untie your wrists. you instantly lower them to wrap around his broad shoulders, pulling his body against yours as his once harsh pace slows down to slow grinds
“tha’s it, lovie. good girl, jus’ let it out…” he whispers in your ear, cradling your face into the crook of his neck as you cry softly
“th-thank you…” you choke out, gently digging your nails into the muscle of his back as a silent plea to just stay exactly where he is
he doesn’t pull out of you, just lays there with you, softly petting your hair and pressing kisses to the side of your face
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have to write this because @evisnotok had some crazy good points in the notes | p1 p2 p3
the 141 know they can rely on your older bf!simon to come through with a fully stocked camera roll. whether they’re killing time in a safe house, back on base, or crowded around a sticky table at a pub.
their eyes are all on one thing.
that’d be you.
with your blessing, of course. simon had told you about johnny accidentally stumbling across his (not very well guarded) collection of intimate photos and he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had shifted and your thighs had tensed.
it’d been a change of minuscule proportions but simon had been watching you with well trained eyes- waiting for any telltale signs.
when he mentioned the way johnny had to adjust the front of his trousers, he could practically hear your mouth water.
when he took it so far as to tell you what johnny had said? you’d spent the rest of the evening humping simon’s leg like a bitch in heat as he laid out all the filthy things sergeant mactavish wanted to do to you.
so when the rest of the 141 caught on, found out about this little arrangement between simon and johnny- they wanted in. they’d seen the pretty little thing that simon kept at home and they wanted to see just how pretty you could get.
it started with the phone being passed around the group (simon had to overcome a few things before he’d let you get passed around the group) and it escalated into a group chat that was full to the fucking brim of your best moments.
videos of you crying simon’s name as you stuff yourself with your fingers.
photos of you with your back arched and your feet kicking.
videos of you being absolutely wrecked by simon the night he gets back from deployment.
photos of you with cum painting your cheeks and a big smile on your face.
they’re almost always for simon’s enjoyment but that last one- that was something different. unfamiliar sense of altruism filling his chest when he had you on your knees.
you’d been sucking his cock for the best part of an hour now, no complaints to be had. simon had put a pillow under your knees and his steady stream of praises had you keening into the hand that stroked your cheek.
“doin’ such a good job for me, sweet’art”
as you felt his balls tense up in your hand, where you’d been stroking them with your palm- you gave him one last long lick before you started tugging him off.
sitting back on your haunches, you stuck your tongue out in waiting when the hand that was around the back of your neck started to grip harder.
“gonna’ cum all over that pretty fuckin’ face”
you twisted your wrist, hand coming up over the leaky head of his cock before sliding it back down. spit flicked around as his foreskin moved beneath your grip, simon’s voice became gruntier than usual.
“you fuckin’ like that, huh? like it when i paint you like i fuckin’ own you?”
like? as if he didn’t already.
simon always got mouthy when he was nearing that peak and the minute the dams broke and he was shooting hot ropes of cum across your eagerly waiting face, his words were trailing off into broken moans.
you kept stroking him until his fingers had to pry you off him, hips beginning to jolt with sensitivity. but you didn’t move, sat still on your knees so simon could get a good look at you.
eyes following his movements, he reached across to pick up his cellphone before you heard the shutter sound a couple times (his phone is never silent, unless he’s on duty- at home it’s the loudest thing you’ve ever heard).
still holding his phone steady, simon reaches his thumb out to drag through some of his cum, before he presses it to your tongue and snaps another picture.
as he drags it away, he lifts his phone for a higher angle before you see his lip quirk up in amusement.
“that’s it, smile for the lads yeah?”
and the group chat never goes without, now whenever they see “ghost sent an attachment” their cocks chub up in almost pavlovian response.
the photos are filthy but their messages are filthier, the way they speak about you is enough to have your cheeks burning and your ears ringing.
“steamin’ jesus L.T you’re one lucky fucker”
“look at the state a’that, so fuckin’ pretty”
“so fuckin’ good at taking loads- got y’one well trained”
filthy enough to turn you inside out- your stomach fucking flipping with every word simon read to you.
one hand holding his phone, the other between your thighs, three thick fingers stuffed inside you. each new message he read, he’d flex his fingers against the spongy little spot that had your eyes rolling.
“can feel you squeezing my fuckin’ fingers, y’like the way they talk about you?”
your hands wrapped around his wrist, fingernails digging into the ink of his tattoos as he spurred you to the edge. leaning back against his chest, his phone was hovering right before your face and you could see those three little dots jumping as johnny typed a new message.
“almost there L.T can y’spare one more?”
you didn’t mean to moan out loud but the image of johnny stroking himself to you was nearly too much. head tipped back onto simon’s shoulder as your hips bucked into his hand, you felt his chuckle rumble against your spine.
long arm reaching up and the unmistakable sound of the shutter ringing around the room, you heard him type a quick reply before you opened your eyes.
debauched, the photo looked fucking debauched. spread out for him with your legs over his thick thighs and your hand practically forcing his fingers deeper into you.
you felt simon shift as he pressed a kiss to your heated cheek, thick cock pressing into the small of your back. he hummed as he slowly started to grind into you.
he knew it was all for show, that you just had this filthy little voyeuristic part of you that needed to be satiated by the praise of these men. he knew that at the end of it all-
“you’re all mine, aren’t ya?”
he just had to be sure, he was only man after all.
not a thought behind your eyes or a doubt in your mind, you nodded furiously as you melted further into his touch.
“only yours, si”
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hmm thinking about older bf!simon who hasn’t really got his head around the whole sexting thing- the man had a flip phone before he met you.
he had, however, reluctantly gone out and got an android after a harmless conversation between the two of you.
“how am i meant to send you videos while you’re away if you have a flip phone, si?”
“videos of what?”
“guess.”
he virtually only uses the thing to get texts, calls, and videos of you fucking yourself in your shared bed whilst he’s deployed. he saves every video, which is a risky manoeuvre considering you haven’t taught him how to set a passcode yet (johnny catches a not-unwelcome eyeful when he goes looking for the directions he sent simon earlier)
older bf!simon is also a fantastic listener, when you tell him you want him to send pics but not ones that make his cock look like a dead fish. you give him strict instructions:
put your phone on self-timer, sit back, thighs spread, one hand around your cock, the other behind your head, you choose if your face is in it xox
man loves an order.
so whilst he’s away, you’re in the kitchen cooking up dinner-for-one and your phone buzzes on the counter- you drop the fucking pasta strainer straight on the floor when you unlock your phone.
simon’s face wasn’t necessarily in the photo, more so his mask. he was fully dressed, tactical gear (down to the vest) still on with a rifle leaning against his thigh. he was in the exact position you’d request, gloved fingers wrapped around the base of him with his other bicep firm behind his head.
you’re so busy saving the photo and staring back at it 100,000 times that you forget to respond. honestly, you forget how to function as your mouth goes dry and your eyes are unable to look at anything else.
simon hesitates on the other end, wondering if he’d fucked up- if he hadn’t followed the brief, if he’d embarrassed himself. thankfully, he knows he only has to ask.
“that what you were after, pet?”
the trepidation in his chest is replaced with a rapidly inflating ego.
“jesus christ, that’s exactly what i needed”
swapped out with slight confusion, but the ever present willingness to learn.
“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”
pt2
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raw, no lube, in every position known to man, from the dining table to the bathroom sink to the shower to the bed
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I want older bf!simon so bad Jesus CHRIST!!!
Cuddling with him and showing him funny tiktoks (having to explain the context of each one in painstaking detail) before he fucks me within an inch of my life
it’s beyond a joke at this point, i actually NEED him 🫶🏼
the end of the day is the best with older bf!simon when you’re both in bed. he’s sat back against the headboard and you’re cuddled into his chest.
his hand is against your back, rubbing gently along your spine. your hand is against his stomach, resting on the bare skin as your scroll through your phone.
tiktok time, simon’s limited exposure to social media.
“so he’s singing in chinese because he doesn’t want to apologise to his girlfriend-“
“is that actually him singing?”
“well no, he’s lip syncing it’s just-“
“so he can’t actually sing in chinese? needs’ta ‘pologise to his-“
“ok next one, si”
it goes on like this, you explaining every single trend and every single meme to this man that views the internet like he was born yesterday.
“so it’s framing it like a competition about being cheated on-“
“terrible competition”
“yeah i know but it’s a joke, and khloe kardashian is there-“
“who’s that? the blue guy?”
“no, my love, thats squidward-“
and in the end you naturally end up on the nighttime side of tiktok and you’re getting one that says something stupid like “ladies try flashing your man when he’s had a long day” or whatever.
suddenly he understands tiktok like he might as well have invented it.
“y’dont do that for me”
your looking up at him under a quirked brow as you shrug, “let me know the next time you have a long day and i will”
you can feel his hand start creeping around under your shirt and you’re trying to hide the smile thats forming on your face as you lock your phone.
“had a long day, sweet’art”
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I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.
god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼
you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.
“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”
“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”
“i’ll do it”
you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.
turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.
so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.
hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.
fucking hell.
simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-
“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”
now how the fuck?
“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“
“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”
crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.
he was something else entirely.
“how d’you know how to do all this?”
“taught m’self, come hold this”
you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”
“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”
the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.
“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”
tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.
you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.
one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.
you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.
“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”
you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.
the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.
“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”
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secrecy. [j. price]
in which captain price denies his love for you publicly, and that doesn't go over well.
cw: angst (a tiny bit...like it's a little hurtful), SMUT, minors kick rocks DNI, price called daddy but is very switch/sub here, knife play, afab!reader, sorta toxic behavior (don't deny your spouse for a bit of approval with your friends bro), blood play a tiny bit, riding, overstimulation, not proofread
“there’s simply nothing worth settling down for lads. end of discussion.” your teeth met the inside of your cheek to stave off the grimace that fought to surface. your lover, the man you called your husband, had the audacity to allow such foolishly indignant words slip from his liquor laced tongue. the gall of the man who’d insisted you make him the happiest man on earth, the one who’d spent hours practicing his speech in the mirror, was something you’d found quite unexpected. to allow such insanity slip from those precious lips you kissed every morning was far more than an insult to your heart; it broke your pride. you’d pridefully and proudly called yourself the captain’s wife, head held higher than it had been before the silly ring on your finger. it was one thing to keep your marriage a secret—that you two had agreed upon—but to admonish your place in his heart? that was unmistakably cruel. your eyes met your lover’s as the men seemed to light-up at his words, applauding him for his dedication to the taskforce and military business. the display only made you want to revolt even more.
the drive home was quiet. normally you’d pretend to be a bit too drunk so that price could pretend to chivalrously take you to your apartment, but tonight you felt no need for such a foolish charade. there was simply no scent for your fellow task force members to follow because john had snuffed out that flame with his foolish banter. you sat bitterly brewing in your misery, flames of wicked jealousy licking at your heels with each passing moment. john could feel it radiating from you, the air too thick for him to swallow as he pridefully refused to concede and beg for forgiveness. the sheer thought of your husband standing by his bravado-littered statements covered you in a figurative sheen of vengeance. you were desperate for the opportunity to right him, to make him eat every little word he’d muttered. you had half the mind roll out of the moving car right this moment, but you decided against such reckless antics. instead, you’d decided to kickstart his own descent into delirium. there was nothing more tantalizing to your husband than making love to you, and perhaps that is where your edge lied.
the sight below you was gloriously sinful. your lover with flushed cheeks and tear-speckled eyes, precious blade of your combat knife nestled just beneath his jaw. your hand could slip and it would bring scarlet red droplets to the surface, giving him a closer shave than he’d bargained for. he knew this, and the thought made his cock stir inside your velvety walls. with each teasing roll of your hips a whimper fled john’s lips, soft pleas for your mercy. his eyes glistened at you as though you hung the stars, just as they were designed to. pressing the knife’s blade ever-so-lightly, you lifted your hips high enough that only the tip remained encased in your plush cunt. the action causes your husband’s brows to knit together as you hover there with the cruelest scowl you can manage. “please, love. ‘m sorry, daddy’s sorry,” he all but whimpers, hips stirring before halting at the feel liquid running down the side of his neck. you scoff at him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to the object of your affection. your lips hover above his, breath fanning over his skin. “yeah? daddy’s sorry, hm?” he nods eagerly, knicking himself again in dumb desire to please you. you dip your head into the crook of his neck, deft tongue licking a stripe along the path of the stray droplet of blood. the action of ownership leaves your husband dizzy as an uncontrolled whimper leaves his lips. you hum, wicked grin pulling at your lips as you plop yourself down onto him. the fat of your ass claps against his thighs, and your head falls back at the feeling of being so full. you groan, rolling your hips forward just enough to catch your clit on the ridge of his pelvis. john’s hands instinctively move to clutch your hips, and you tut at him amusedly.
your cunt was driving john to insanity, and you weren’t too far behind him. the pace you’d set was increasingly tiring, but your abdomen continued to be set aflame with carnal desire. the clap of your ass against your husband’s lap resounded through the room as you fucked yourself—and him—stupid on his girthy length. orgasm after orgasm had rushed over the two of you, yet your desire for more never wavered. your grip on your beloved knife had since loosened enough that there was no true threat, though the thrill remained. your husband was beautifully fucked beneath you, lip quivering as his eyes struggled to stay open. your tight heat felt torturous, the sensation of your walls griping him like a vice bringing him to tears. your eyes intently glared down at your man, as much as you could while being fucked open. “can’t take anymore, love,” your husband whimpers, hands gripping your hips harshly as he weakly attempted to slow your movements. you huffed at him, hand moving to grip his jaw and force his gaze to yours. your gaze made his cock stir inside your plushy cunt. “you can take it,” you spat at him, squeezing his jaw at the hinges to force his mouth open. without thought you spat into your lover’s mouth, riding him with more tenacity as you felt your high approaching. “oh fuck,” he whined, head falling back from your gasp as you milked him for his last orgasm of the night. “you look at me when I fucking cum, and you remember who you settled down with, john,” you scold him, tugging on his dog tags to force him to meet your view again. the sight before you was picture worthy, pitiful fucked out captain gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky; to him, you did. your orgasm swept you in a vicious wave of euphoria, thighs trembling as you moaned softly over your lover. the cant of your hips slows as you ride out your high, sweat-coated body leaning to press flush against his. john sighs, arms wrapping around you as he babbles apologies into your chest and neck. “never mean’ it, never say it again” he babbles softly, and you’re certain some of his brain oozed out from his ears with how thoroughly you’ve fucked him. with a sigh you untangle yourself from him, peering softly into his beautiful eyes before leaning to pepper kisses along his face. “i love you, John. thank you for letting me have this,” you hum softly. truly he could’ve called off the whole encounter, but he allowed you this relief. oh, what a lover you have.
likes + coments + rbs always appreciated <3 thx
#john price#captain john price#john price x reader#cod smut#cod x reader#john price smut#captain price smut#captain price x reader#olderboyfriend!john#older boyfriend smut#call of duty smut#captain john price smut#cw: daddy#cw: knives#cod angst#john price x you#afab reader#pup talks#mw2 smut#mwii smut#cod mw2#cw: overstimulation#price x reader
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The mission goes tits up and here you are, racing through the carnage to find Ghost, bullet wounds in his leg and shoulder.
"You're a fucking muppet... Told you to get to the heli!"
"Yeah, yeah, waka waka, now kindly shut up so I can haul you there."
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Ghost discovers something about himself.
Simon snaps his hips against you, hitting something deep enough you feel it in your stomach. Your breath hitches, your eyes roll back, you take the opportunity to grab him by the back of the neck and drag him down against your chest. You all but smush Simon's face into the crook of your neck, gasping against his ear as he continues battering your poor cunt.
"That's it," you breathe, "fuck, such a good boy, so good for me." Your back arches, you can feel his cock twitching inside you, the fat length of it bullying you open even when you clench around it. It burns perfectly, makes you feel tight even when he's stretched you loose.
"Baby," you coo, trying to meet his thrust(try being the operative word when Simon has his weight crushing you, your legs locked behind his back to keep him in place), "fucking me so well, it must feel good." You feel a tentative nod against your shoulder and the dam holding back your tongue breaks. "Yeah?" You pout, draw your voice higher, let him hear the moan he pulls from you, "This pussy's yours baby, fuck it like you own it. Such a good puppy, filling me up better than anyone."
Simon's teeth tease your skin, a warning you don't listen to. Why would you? His cock is pistoning in and out of you with a desperation you've never felt before, it's all you can do not to melt under him. If he wasn't laying on you, you might have. Each time he hits you just right you feel like a little more of your brain drips out of your ears. You can't stop the words dripping out of you though, even with the whines and whimpers Simon drags from you. His teeth dig into your shoulder and your eyes flutter closed as you moan openly.
"Tell me how much you love it Simon," you whine, "fuck your master with that big stupid cock."
You don't miss the whine that draws from him, the desperate choked thing that snaps its hips tight against you, pushes its cock as deep as he can manage and pulses inside your cunt. Your eyes roll back feeling him come. You drag your hand through his hair, scratching lightly as you practically purr for him.
"There it is," you turn to kiss the edge of his cheek, drag your tongue over the rough stubble along his jaw, "good boy."
Simon's teeth release their grip, and he pulls back. You get the briefest glimpse of him tipping his head back to draw a heavy breath before his hand is covering your mouth. You're held down against the mattress, lucky he isn't cutting off your oxygen as he presses his hand harshly against your lips. "Would you shut up," Simon growls, his free hand moving to rub at your clit, dragging the come that spills from your cunt on his shallow thrusts to slick his movements, "If you're still talkin', must not be doing a good enough job."
You mumble out a muffled "I love you" and see Simon smile in response. You're going to pay for running your mouth, but it's worth it.
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Simon Riley aka Ghost has returned home from work— his muscles sore and fingers cramped from the drills he had to teach the subordinates. It's not unusual, more so common than not seeing his position. He was passionate about his job, you could tell the way Simon Riley put his all into it, day in and day out.
Yet, that wasn't the only thing he was passionate about...nor was it the only thing he put his all into.
"f-fuck~" you moan out, hands slipping on the smooth marble counter, fingers scratching at the surface as your pushed forward. An ache settling in your mid abdomen from the counter being pressed against it.
"mhm..." Ghost groans, palming your right ass cheek before delivering a loud smack to it, "just like that," he encourages whilst his hips slam against your backside, slithering the same hand up to encircle your engorged hips, "take it just like that."
The deep velvety tone of his voice does nothing to help the slick trail dampening your inner thighs and lubricating you where you needed it the most.
With each push and pull you could feel the knot in your stomach growing— the pressure building up is unbearable in the best way.
You lean on your pointed toes, driving yourself farther up the counter in an attempt to put some distance between you and the pleasure.
"too much.." You whimper when your stomach starts to cave and your legs start to shake.
Ghost is quick to grab the back of your neck, pulling you back until you settle against his chest.
clicking his tongue, "you were doing so good." You hear him mumble closely to your right ear, lips brushing against your lobe "you want me to stop?" He questions rhetorically, settling into a slower pace.
"No!" You shake your head hastily—you never wanted him to stop—you try to push your pelvis back against his throbbing cock but the hand on your hip halts your movements.
A tremble sets into your body as you feel him pull all the way out until your pussy could only flutter against the tip.
"No?" He questions, circling the hand on the back of your neck to the front, grasping it firmly and angling your face towards his, "but you said too much." He teases, easing only a portion of his cock into your sopping cunt.
A chill slides down your spine at his dark unwavering gaze, "don't stop." You whine, desperation painting your face.
Ghost looks at you expectantly— he wasn't one to give commands to, if you wanted something you had to ask, or beg.
"please!" Your ass impatiently wiggles against his lower half but you couldn't back up enough to get what you craved, "please, I'm sorry! Please don't stop!" You beg him shamelessly, apologizing without reason.
Your body suddenly lurches forward, breath catching in your throat as he impales you with his cock, a groan leaving his lips as your cunt greedily welcomes him back.
"Then stop running."
𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: @deunmiu-dessie (I'm taking my ass to sleep friend but I owed you🩵)
𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫/𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫: @cafekitsune @pwixi
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