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#early glasses johnny

loveindefinitely · 5 months

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༊*·˚ NEW JOBS AND DEATH THREATS — cod x reader

CRAVE YOU — call of duty x reader CHAPTER ONE

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + alejandro vargas + rodolfo 'rudy' parra + könig + keegan p. russ

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, prison au, serial killer au, reverse harem, therapist/patient, medical inaccuracies, graphic violence, depictions of murder, everyone's unhinged, poly tf141, minor ships, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, this is not medical advice!!

series masterlist. read on ao3.

Life was hard. That was a fact.

Bills and groceries didn’t pay for themselves. That was also a fact.

Adding these two factors together, the final product will be a high-risk job in one of the highest-risk places on Earth. That’s… not a fact.

And yet, here you are, standing at the visitor entrance of Las Almas Prison, sporting a disgruntled grimace and a new pair of black slacks that you’d splurged on. They, at least, made your ass look good, although that was truly the least of your worries.

No. Your current list of worries looked something like this;

Getting Murdered

Getting Attacked

Vomiting Within The First Five Minutes Of Your New Job?

…Yeah. Something like that.

The early morning sun is blinding where it sits, just off to the side of the giant concrete building that was the main offices and Visitor Centre. The fact that you were standing in front of what was only a small part of the overall prison grounds was… alarming.

You were well aware that this was the largest prison in your country, housing the most lethal and awful of criminals. Some you’d seen either on the news, or heard of in passing conversations.

This was the real deal. And, somehow, you’d managed to find yourself being hired to work here. You. Work with serial killers. The worst of the worst.

With the stress on your bank account, and the endless struggle that was trying to find a stable career in the current job market, you simply had no other choice but to accept the offer. It paid extremely well, had great benefits, and your safety was… fairly considered.

The amount of NDAs, liability clauses and agreements, however?

Not the best at calming your nerves, to say the least.

The biting chill of the winter wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself, leather bag slung over your shoulder as you finally step through the automatic sliding door.

You’re not surprised to find that the chill only deepens inside the concrete walls of the building, with no heaters or air conditioning from what you can see. There is, however, bright white overhead lights that do nothing except aid the throbbing in the side of your head – probably due to the restless sleep you’d had the night before, anticipation and anxiety warring inside of your thoughts.

There’s an office in front of you as you step in, with only a few decades-old couches to your right, in front of a dingy TV that’s turned off. Saving their budget for more important things, you suppose.

The walls are a pale, grimy yellow, with sparse photos hung about, framing newspaper articles that are surely from the last century, and black and white pictures of the prison’s opening.

It’s an unsettling place, that much you’ve already gathered.

You haven’t even actually been inside the prison, you remind yourself, your stomach churning where it now lays at your feet.

Without a second thought, you continue with hurried steps to the front desk, where scratched plastic encases the sole woman inside, sitting behind a monitor. There’s a circle of holes that allow for sound to pass through, but other than that, there’s no way of entering from this room. With a quick study of your surroundings, you see a steel door to the left of where the desk sits, with a small square window covered in iron bars.

…Jesus christ.

“Can I help you?” The woman drawls, sliding her glasses further up her nose. Her voice is nasally, and the words come out in a slow drawl as she looks you up and down, unimpressed.

You give her your best smile, although even you can tell that it’s an uneasy one. “Yes! This is my first day, I think I’m supposed to be meeting Kate Laswell?” You ask, nerves betraying your voice with unsteady breaths.

The woman snaps her gum.

You stand there.

She blows it again.

You continue to stand there.

Her gaze is bored and completely void of any thought, before she nods slowly. “Laswell… I’ll call her.”

Really, you couldn’t be more shocked if you tried. What the fuck was happening? How could one lack so much… professionalism?

“Hi, Kate. Yes, it’s Jenny. I have a new hire who apparently wants to see you…” Her voice remains that unbearably slow, sloth-like delivery, before her eyes unhurriedly meet yours again. “What’s your name…?”

You give it to her, tone only the slightest bit impatient as you roll back on the heels of your feet. You can only hope that your black boots are appropriate; you’d figured that they were safe, closed-toe and still somewhat professional.

Time would tell. Jenny was giving you the impression that they were more than acceptable, because at least they got you to do your job in a timely manner.

Jenny says a few more words to who can only pray is Laswell on the other end of the phone, before she places it back in its holder.

“Laswell will be here any…” She pops her gum once more, and maybe, just maybe, you can understand the urge to murder. “Moment.”

You give her a tight, painful smile. “Thank you, Jenny.”

She doesn’t respond, and you decide to just stand back and wait. You certainly weren’t complaining – any more conversation with her would’ve ended with a severe lack of hair on your head.

A minute passes, before a buzz in the pocket of your slacks has your throat tightening.

Pulling out your phone, your next exhale comes out shaky as you read the text.

Charlie: get milk otw home used it all

No ‘good luck’. No… ounce of care for you, or the absolute stress that comes with a new job, let alone one like this.

When you’d told him about the offer, all he’d said was, “It might make you worth something for a change.” Didn’t even question, not for a minute, the risks that came with a job like this. He simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Doctor?” The sound of a door opening, and the kind, almost motherly tone of the voice has you shoving your phone into your pocket once more as you turn to the source of the sound.

It’s a woman, her hair pulled back into a slick bun, one hand holding what seems to be a clipboard. Her other hand rests in the pocket of a white coat, not unlike one a scientist would be fashioning in a lab. Her smile is warm, the corner of her eyes crinkling as you direct a smile of your own her way.

“Kate Laswell?” You ask, extending your hand for her to shake. Taking her hand out of her pocket, she accepts it gracefully, nodding her head.

“The one and only,” she says, before gesturing to the steel door she’d entered through. “Now, today we’ll get you set up with a keycard, general rules, and I’ll have you meet two of your patients.”

You nod, following her as she swipes a card in a black reader, before the red light buzzes green, and she pulls the door open. Right behind her, you take an unstable deep breath as you take in the greyed, jagged walls, a complete contrast to the painted ones of the entrance room.

“We really are so glad to welcome you to our team,” she continues, her black work shoes clicking against the smooth concrete flooring. She doesn’t turn to you as she speaks, but her voice carries around the echoey hallway. “You’ll make a great addition. A necessary one, also. We’ve needed an innovative, young therapist for a while. Most of our… previous hires have held out-dated beliefs, and a lack of humanity for their clientele.”

That makes your brows furrow in confusion. “That’s… odd,” you murmur, before pausing your steps as Laswell stops, swiping her keycard, before entering another room.

As you step into the newly revealed space, your eyes go wide as you take it in.

It’s a wide, large space, with several floors. Metal staircases sit at either end of the vast space, allowing access to every floor. Guards sit at every level, some walking around the space where you and Laswell stand.

It’s a lot, all at once. You’d never even stepped foot into a prison – not before now.

“Most inmates are at the mess for breakfast,” Laswell supplies, turning to you with a neutral expression. She gestures for you to follow her back out of the space, and you do with hurried steps. “The ones you’ll be dealing with, however… they usually eat by themselves.”

You don’t decide to push that statement, not now, as you continue to follow her down the hallway.

“You won’t be seeing much of the prison,” she admits. “There’s heavily guarded spaces on the top floor for your sessions, both for your protection and for the safety of our staff and other low-risk inmates.”

You nod, humming a sound of affirmation as the two of you start heading up the cleaner steps at the end of the hallway. The staff staircase, you suppose.

“Today, you’ll be meeting two of our more… understanding ambers.”

You raise a brow. “Ambers? What does that mean?”

She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough to shoot you a knowing look. “Ambers are our highest-risk inmates. We house ten of them, and you’ll be dealing with eight as per your contract.”

Your stomach falls. You’d known, of course, that the risks were high when applying for this role. But… this was more than you’d imagined, in a way. Ambers. Huh.

Silence falls over the two of you as you make your way up the never-ending steps, no windows in sight. It’s unnerving, in a creepy, strange way. When you finally reach the top, you try and hide how out of breath you are from that small exertion.

Fucking christ.

Laswell, for her part, looks completely fine in an effortless way. You can’t eve find it in yourself to be envious. The feeling’s closer to admiration.

“Here’s the files on them both. You’ll be seeing Kyle Garrick first,” she hands you the clipboard she’d been carrying, and you accept it with only a slight tremble. She doesn’t comment on it, and you find yourself warming up to her already. “They’ll be restrained, and there is heavy security, so you needn’t worry about that side of things.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you say earnestly, flipping through the files without reading much of anything, not yet.

She waves you off with a soft chuckle. “None of that. Kate’s more than fine,” she insists, and you give her a bright smile in return. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad – a boss like this was much better than a creepy middle-aged man any day of the week.

You don’t realise you’ve made it to a small room until she stops walking, scanning her keycard and pushing the door open, gesturing you in. “While you have your first two sessions, I’ll sort your keycard and the rest of the processes out. I wish you luck.”

With that, the door shuts behind you, and you’re alone in a small room.

It matches the rest of the hallways you’ve seen – grey concrete walls, grey concrete floors. The only furniture, however, is one metal table drilled into the floor in the centre, one chair on either side.

…It’s depressing. Not at all like you’d prefer, not for a fucking therapy session, but then again, you hadn’t met your clients yet.

Ambers. High-risk.

With a deep breath, you take a seat at the chair closest to you, finally reading through the top file on the clipboard.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.

You skim over the height, weight, sex – immediately reading the comments made and his sentence.

Mass murderer. Motivated attacks.

Your eyes go wide, almost comically so, as you bite at your lip, folding one leg over the other as you continue to read.

Of course, you’d prepared, been made aware that you’d be dealing with murderers. But having it in black and white, right in front of you, is a whole other thing entirely.

Apparently, they were motivated attacks. Targets being large CEOs, specifically those with reported claims of misuse of power, and those against green laws. Anti-environment types.

The motive is… you’re aware killing is bad. You hadn’t spent years studying for a degree in Psychology to think otherwise. But it wasn’t as simple as some made it out to be. You’d done papers suggesting that certain motives implied healthier patterns, healthier outlets.

If you had to choose between him killing pregnant women, and CEOs with broken moral compasses?

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out your answer.

You’re about to flip the page when there’s a knock on the door on the other side of the room, before it opens.

There’s two guards that walk in, before a man in an olive green jumpsuit follows, hands cuffed tightly together in front of him, head down. Another guard from behind shoves him in, too rough for your liking. You sit up straighter, eyes assessing as you take in the man in the jumpsuit.

He’s forced into the chair opposite you, before one of the guards grabs his cuffed wrists and chains them to a rig in the middle of the table. You’re grateful for the precautions, but there’s a part of you that feels guilty watching the manhandling of the seemingly calm man.

“Half an hour,” the most brutish guard of them all grits out, beer belly spilling out over his belted jeans. He jostles the chain attaching his wrists to the table unnecessarily, and your eyes narrow.

He goes to leave, along with another guard, but one stands to stay in position inside, beside the door.

Your brows furrow, and you speak up before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sir, but my sessions will need confidentiality, as for the best results. I’m sure that I’ll be safe with his restraints.”

The guard stares you down, seemingly mulling your words over, before shrugging and leaving the room, door shutting behind him.

…Huh. Alright.

You find your posture relaxing, just slightly, which is odd, considering you’re now only a metre or two away from a convicted murderer.

His gaze is trained to the table, left foot tapping incessantly against the concrete floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz,” you say with a soft tone and a gentle smile. You figure that his nickname is the best bet, not wanting to stir up any possible traumas with his given name during your first session with the man. “I’ll be your new psychiatric evaluator.”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours, and he nods slowly, as if awaiting a punchline.

“Is it okay for me to call you Gaz?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and flipping to an empty page to take notes on. You’d need to grab a notebook from home, you decide.

He relaxes, only the smallest of movements, and he nods. “Gaz, yeah.”

Your smile widens at the small victory. Any step towards progress was a huge one, in your eyes. You’d be facing a lot of them in the coming days.

“Do you have any advice for this place?” You push, trying to form a bond of trust with the dark-haired man. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first patient, and I’ve only met Laswell and… Jenny?”

His mouth quirks at that, a dimple showing to the left of his mouth as he looks back up at you. “Jenny’s a character, ain’t she?”

You laugh, a genuine one, and nod. “She certainly is. You’ve met her?”

He shrugs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Few times, yeah. She drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” His accent is only minimally apparent, but his voice is of a somewhat humorous tone.

Small victories.

“Well,” he exhales, settling into his chair a bit as he seems to ponder. “Do ya know who else you’re assigned to?”

You’d been sure to thoroughly go over your contract, and you were allowed to disclose your other patients between your others. They’d find out within the day, anyways, so there was no point in being discreet.

“It’s only you and a… John Price? Today. I’m sure I’ll find out the other six over the next few days,” you say, appreciating that he’s starting conversations. It’s more than you’d allowed yourself to hope for.

Gaz’s eyes light up, and even if you hadn’t been incessant in watching him, it’d be an obvious shift in emotions. “Price?”

You nod, quickly making a note on your clipboard, before folding your hands in your lap as you gesture for him to continue with a quick inclination of your head.

“He’s the best. Man’s a legend,” he enthuses. “Love ‘im.”

There’s… a hidden truth to that statement, that you make a mental note to unpack during a later session. Your smile is a natural one as you say, “He’s an amber, correct? Laswell told me I’d been assigned eight out of ten ambers… you’re one of them, right?”

Gaz seems to fold into himself, and you kick yourself for going back to square one. He answers, however.

“...Yeah. Only Ghost ‘nd Valeria are aggressive, though. We’re just… misunderstood,” he murmurs, and in the back of your brain, you find yourself believing his words.

“Thank you,” you smile, and he responds with a sharp one of his own. Maybe you’d covered more ground than you’d expected. “I think it’d been mentioned that I was only assigned men, due to the nature of the job, or something like that.”

Seeming to mull over your words, he starts to slowly nod. “Sounds ‘bout right. As long as you don’t get Graves, you’ll be alright. The others are… fuckin’ weird, but they’re good men. Mostly.”

That’s a lot of information at once, and quite frankly, it takes a moment for you to process.

“‘Good men’. What do you think it takes to be a good man?” You ask, curiosity laced into your tone. Getting to ask such questions of a convicted murderer, it’s a thrilling, exhilarating task.

His eyes don’t shift as he replies. “Good men do the acts others are too scared to do. They see the evil in the world, and rid of it with their own bare hands. You can be an ethical murderer, Doc.”

Those words, they’re – they’re authentic, and conviction aches in their structure.

You swallow around a dry mouth.

“You think you’re a good man?” You ask.

His smile would be seen as warm to any who weren’t aware of his acts, but to you – it’s chilling. Haunting in a way you’ve never experienced.

It remains as he answers.

“I think that I’m a man who people wish they had the bravery to be.”

a/n. okay so im really nervous about posting this, cause ITS EIGHT FUKCING LOVE INTERESTS and also im a humanities girl not a science one!! sociology all the way not psych!! so forgive me for all the inaccuracies and legality issues please. im just a girl. hopefully u guys will like this one? i mean, obsessed serial killers cod is smth i need so here we are. all comments and feedback mean so muchhh ty ily mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. [nothing to see here.]

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kenshiluvr · 6 months

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guard dog

bi-han/reader

summary: your husband doesn’t like when other men flirt with you.

tags: established relationship, fluff, protective! bi-han, sunshine/moody duo bc i live for this

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.❅.* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m telling you,” Johnny runs a hand through chestnut hair. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous! You could seriously be a model!” He gushes, giving a grin to you. You chuckle softly, waving him off. “I dunno about that, but thank you.” You respond calmly. A chill washes over the two of you, cold fingers curling into your waist. Bi-Han, your husband, glares at Johnny over your shoulder. “Hey, man- convince your wife to become a model for me.” The actor chuckles. “I wanna see her on Vogue!”

Bi-Han growls softly, pulling you a little closer. “She’s off-limits, Cage.” He grumbles. You simply laugh, patting your husband’s strong forearm. “Relax, hun. It’s fine.” You assure him. Bi-Han gives Johnny a wary look, but when he looks at you, that coldness melts. “Come. We should start preparations for our evening early.” He nudges your side gently, guiding you away from Cage. The ninja gives Johnny a pointed glare over his shoulder, a silent warning to back off from his wife. Johnny snorts with amusement, shaking his head as he chuckles.

—

Sitting at his side, like always, you put your fork down gently, finishing with your meal. Dinner was always nice. The atmosphere was always so calm, a hint of normalcy to this crazy life your lover’s dragged you into. A foot nudges yours beneath the table, and you look up. Raiden gives a shy smile, and you smile back. “How have you been, my lady?” He asks politely. “Well. How about you?” Your response has your husband glancing to you, then to Raiden.

Bi-Han grips his glass, raising it to his lips to sip his water. His brown eyes scan over Raiden, who keeps talking to you. What are his motives..? Bi-Han thinks to himself. Clearing his throat, his fingers thread through yours, squeezing gently; just to bring your attention to him a little. Smiling at your lover, you squeeze back, warm palm sitting in his. Bi-Han smiles slightly at you, a rare sight. You return to your conversation with Raiden, and as Bi-Han listens, he figures out that the young man is just being friendly. It’s nothing to work himself up over, Raiden isn’t like Cage. Speaking of… his eyes scan across the table, spotting Johnny flirting with someone else. Rolling his eyes, Bi-Han returns to his meal, not letting go of your hand.

—

Reading is a calming activity. Bi-Han is busy training across the yard, you’ve chosen to sit beneath a tree, book in hand. It’s idyllic, soothing. You hear boots crunching on leaves, approaching you. “Hello.” A voice greets, and you look up. Tomas, always nice company. “Tomas,” you smile in greeting, letting him sit beside you. “How’s my brother been treating you? Good?” Tomas asks softly, smiling back. His mask is down around his neck, so you can see his face.

“Of course.” You nod. “That’s good,” your friend responds, glancing to the book you hold. “Catching up on your reading?” Tomas chuckles, still smiling at you. “Finally, yes.” You share his soft laugh. “I want to ask… would you accompany me to lunch tomorrow?” He asks, leaning a little closer. Thinking nothing of his offer, you nod. “Of course. I’d love to.” You reply, smiling at him. “Great,” Tomas smiles back. “I think you deserve a better man than my brother… he can be really cold.” He murmurs, fingers moving up to gently touch your cheek. You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “Nonsense, Tomas. Bi-Han treats me well.” You respond to him, letting him touch you.

Boots storm over, a rough hand snatching Tomas harshly, tugging him up and slamming him to the tree. “Tomas-“ Bi-Han growls, not appreciating his adoptive brother’s attempts at wiping his wife. “Relax.” Tomas responds smoothly, resting a hand on his brother’s strong forearm. “Just offering lunch.” He smirks at his brother. Tomas has always been mischievous, he loves getting under his brothers’ skin. Eyes filled with anger, Bi-Han lands a harsh punch to Tomas’ jaw. “Bi-Han..!” your eyes widen, getting up to grab your husband’s arm before he could hit his brother again. “Unhand me.” Bi-Han growls, but he doesn’t tug against you, letting you pull him away from Tomas. “No- stop it. You can’t just punch him!” You frown, squeezing your husband’s arm. He scowls, frost biting at his fingers, ready to hurt Tomas again. “Leave my wife alone.” He commands, dismissing his little brother.

Sighing, you let go of Bi-Han’s arm, watching Tomas chuckle and leave. “Bi-Han.” You speak, but he cuts you off. “Don’t,” he growls, pulling you to his chest. “You’re mine. No more flirting with him.” The tall man scowls. “I wasn’t-“ he grasps your jaw, gently, tilting your head to steal a kiss to silence you. “I saw him touching you. I know he thinks I’m not enough for you,” Bi-Han grumbles, fingers gently squeezing your cheeks. “You are my wife. I am the one who married you. I don’t appreciate him thinking he can steal you away from me…” he whispers, kissing you again. “No one’s stealing me,” you giggle softly, shaking your head. “I’m yours.” You add on, hands moving to rest on his sides. Bi-Han hums, satisfied with your response. “Good. I won’t let any man flirt with you.” He murmurs, squeezing you close to the flat plane of his chest. “Mhm. I know.” You chuckle, letting his forehead rest to yours.

#mk1 2023 #mk1 x reader #bi-han x reader #bi han #bi-han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han x you #| kenshiluvr

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

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My boyfriend's dad || Boyfriend’s dad ! Joel x reader

Summary: When you meet your boyfriend at his family house, you find out he’s at a party and cheating on you. Your boyfriend’s dad offers to take care of you and show you what a real man is like. (2kwords of pure filth)

Based on this request!

CW: Talks of cheating, polyamory undertone, Joel is married to bisexual Tess, oral sex (f and m receiving), petnames, praising, protected sex, talks of voyeurism, unspecified age gap (reader is an adult), Joel has a dirty fucking mouth, innocent reader.

Please reblog if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist !

You had been dating Chris for a few months now. He wasn’t… the best boyfriend, per se, but he always pulled you back to him when you wanted to walk away. In retrospect, you didn’t know what kept you with him.

Maybe… it was to keep seeing his dad. It was fucked up. Mr. Miller was an handsome man in his late 40s, maybe early 50s, married with an equally hot woman, Tess. But you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore when you imagined his dad instead of Chris pounding into you.

It was a Friday night, and you were supposed to meet Chris at his place to spend time with him. But when you knocked on the door, his dad answered instead of him. Chris’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but still, you had hoped to see him.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Miller! Is… Chris here?”

You felt his burning gaze trailing down your figure dressed with tight clothes.

“M’sorry sweetheart, Chris said he was going out with friends.”

You frowned and tried to hide your disappointment. “Oh… we were supposed to see each other.”

Joel seemed sorry; he knew his son wasn’t the best boyfriend.

“Look, you came all the way here. ” He looked at you, uncomfortable. “D’you wanna come in and maybe try to call him?”

“T-Thanks.” He moved from the door and let you come in. The house was silent. It seemed like his wife and his oldest daughter weren’t home.

“Is miss Miller still working night shifts?” You asked, standing in the entryway awkwardly as he closed the door behind you.

“Yeah… hospital’s kickin’ her butt. ”

“She… she’s doing a necessary job. You must be proud of your wife.”

Your boyfriend’s dad didn’t respond, instead, he gestured towards the living room, so you’d come in. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the leather couch. Mr. Miller brought you the house phone.

“He gave me his friend’s number in case of emergency, let me get it for you.”

He typed in the number, and you watched as he waited for the phone to ring with a concentrated look on his face, eyebrows frowned.

“Hey Johnny, yeah, is my son there?... Why is the music so fuckin’ loud…?.. Yeah, please. Put him on the line.”

He passed you the phone and gave you some space, going to the kitchen. On the phone, you heard the shuffling of blankets and a female voice as you picked it up.

“Hey, thought we were meeting tonight?” The nails on your free hand were digging in your palm, as you tried to contain your anger, understanding what was going on.

“Yeah sorry, Johnny was feeling low.” He could barely get any words out.

“Is this why you sound drunk as fuck?! And who am I hearing behind you?”

“Well…”

“You know what, Christopher Miller?! I’m done with you. Have fun.”

You aggressively hung up the phone. You were so used to Chris’s bullshit, that you didn’t even cry. You were just angry. You put up your legs against your chest as you tried to calm yourself.

Mr Miller came back with a glass of fresh water. You thanked him.

“M’sorry sweetheart… I’m afraid my son’s a real asshole.”

You looked up at him and shrugged.

“I guess… I should know by now.” You got up to leave. “I’m sorry for the bother, Mr. Miller. I’ll go home now.”

“No, no… Please.” His hand held your arm to stop you. You turned around to look at the older man, puzzled, but you couldn’t help the shivers that ran through your body. “You shouldn’t drive right now. You’re angry. Wait it off, or I’ll give you a ride home.”

You didn’t want to be impolite and decline his offer, so you went back to the couch, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You finally took a sip of the glass of water Mr Miller had given you earlier. Your boyfriend’s dad sat beside you; big hands laid on his lap.

“Y’know… It’s not a huge loss.” You looked up at him as he said that to you, confused that he was talking like that about his own son. “I’ve heard you fuck, and I can tell when a woman is faking.”

He was right, but still, you choked on your water and put the glass on the table in front of you. Mr Miller’s warm eyes locked with yours. Were you seeing… the familiar glow of lust in his blown-out irises?

“He never took care of you the right way, hm? Only thought about his own pleasure? Poor babydoll…” His calloused hand met the soft skin of your blushed cheek. “I’ll show you what a real man’s like.”

Before you could even respond, Joel’s mouth was on yours. Your hands laid flat on his chest as you pushed him away slightly to ask:

“But… your wife?” In your head, right now, the father was just as bad as his son.

“Oh, don’t worry. Tess begged me to take care of you. S’a shame that she’s not here right now. We have an agreement.”

You felt arousal pool between your legs as you imagined Joel and his wife thinking about you in that way.

“I… okay.” You were barely reassured, but you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when you had wanted this since you started dating his son. You straddled Joel’s thighs, and looked down at him lustfully, before finding his plush lips again. Even if you were on top of him, the older male had total control over you. He invited you to open your mouth with the slid of his tongue. You tasted all of him ; you couldn’t help moaning inside his mouth.

“Knew you wanted this too, hm? Were you thinking about me while my son was fucking you?” He said against the skin of your neck, where he left open-mouthed kisses.

“Y-Yes… Yes I wanted this, Mr. Miller. Still do. Please.”

You felt his arousal through the thin fabric you were wearing. He seemed… really big. As he got up, Joel tucked his hands under your ass, and you wrapped your legs around him while he brought you up the stairs. You thought he would bring you to his own room, but instead, he brought you to Chris’. He laid you down on the familiar bed. It was an asshole move, yes, but god did it turn you on. Joel’s hands slid down the clothes covering your core, and you shivered when you felt the coldness on your wet folds.

“I’ll use my mouth on you, how d’ya feel about this, babydoll?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the bed. His hands pulled on your thighs to bring you closer, his face centimeters away from your heat.

“Please.” You didn’t say it, but Chris never did it.

“Hmm, so polite.” As he went even closer, the vibration of his raspy voice against your skin made you shiver. The older man tentatively licked at your folds, collecting the wetness that was forming there.

You squirmed, sensitive.

“Oh babydoll, you’ve never done that, haven’t you?” He looked up at you with pity in his pretty eyes. Your boyfriend’s dad looked so fucking beautiful like this, dark eyes following your movements. From this angle he was just a pretty head of curly hair between your legs.

You shook your head “no”.

His hands held down your thighs as he licked at your core more confidently this time. He took it slow, letting you get used to this new sensation. Your head was spinning, it was better than anything you had experienced before. He traced lazy circles, getting closer and closer to your clit. When he hit it with the tip of his tongue, you moaned and grabbed at his hair to hold him there.

“There it is... my sweet girl…” He pressed confidently against your little bud of nerves, before putting his lips around it to suck it. Your fingers pulled on his hair as you cried out his name. He sucked roughly as he sneaked a finger into your wet heat. One finger was already filling you up, you didn’t know you could take more, but the pressure he put on your clit kept you away from the pain.

He stretched you up slowly, and when he felt like you were ready, he added another one. It was… a lot, and you felt your stomach twisting with pleasure. His fingers moved expertly until they found that perfect spot, which they hit again and again as he kept pleasing you with his tongue. You threw your head back, white stars filling your vision while you came hard. Joel helped you through your orgasm and slowed down, until he stopped.

“Was that good, babydoll?” He asked as he got up and wiped his mouth.

You nodded enthusiastically, which made him laugh. You backed away a little to give him space, and he took place between your open legs. You sat up and pulled on his tight shirt. He helped you take it off. He was still in shape despite his age. Just like you had imagined.

“Mr Miller… can I… please you?”

“Fuck. You’re too good, babydoll. I wanna focus on ya.”

“No, I really want to. Please. ” You begged with pretty eyes.

“Fine. Let me see those nice tits first, hm?”

He kissed you roughly, and pulled on your shirt, until you broke the kiss to help him take it off. Of course, you weren’t wearing any bra. His hand grabbed your breast, and you cried when he leaned in to suck on your hard nipple. Your shaky fingers found his belt, and he helped you get himself out of his pants. He took off his last layers and laid beside you. You looked at his dick with wide eyes. His hand caressed your cheek to reassure you.

“You don’t have to take all of it in, babydoll.” With the pressure of his hand, he coaxed you to get closer to his hard and leaking member. You leaned down, giving him a perfect view of you tits, and your ass up in the air.

Your hand took care of the base as you opened your lips and slowly slid his cock between your lips. You let it lay heavily on your flat tongue, before closing your mouth around it. His fingers found your messy hair to encourage you.

“Doin’ so good fo’ me.”

With the help of his encouragement, you bobbed your head up and down as you sucked in your cheeks. Joel cursed and laid back on the bed. He had an arm over his face, probably concentrating on not painting your mouth already with cum. You sucked his dick enthusiastically, your hand taking care of the base. After a few more strokes, he said:

“You’re gonna make me cum all over your face, babydoll.”

You moaned in response, your voice vibrating around his thick dick. He pulled on your hair to move you away. You looked beautiful like this, red lips glistening with a mixture of precum and saliva, your makeup running down your cheeks.

“Stop. Let me fuck you, now.”

You laid down, waiting for him as he got condoms and lube, which he used to coat your entrance and his latex-covered girth. You spread your legs for him.

“I’ll be gentle with you, but you tell me what ya need.”

“T-Thank you.”

He kissed you softly, as he pushed his length between your folds. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, keeping him close and pushing his dick further into you. He stopped when he was fully into you, looking down at your face to make sure you were okay.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, wish I could fuck you bare. But you’ll get tested and I’ll fuck you bare after that. Would love to fill your pretty hole and make you mine.”

The fact that he wanted to fuck you again after this made your stomach flutter with excitation.

“O-Okay. ” Your lips found the curve of his throat, where a vein was appearing. “You can move.”

He started slowly and not going to deep. But you pushed on the small of his back with your feet to encourage him.

“Can take more, Mr Miller. Please.”

He went deeper a few thrusts later, and you moaned. “Fuck, yes, that’s it…” You were so loud; thank God you were alone. Even though part of you wished Chris was here to hear what a real orgasm sounded like.

The movements of his hips got rougher and rougher, as he fucked deep into you. You felt a new sensation when he hit deep into you and when his fingers found your clit to circle it around it, bringing you closer to another orgasm. You screamed when you came and your walls closed around him, trapping him deep. Joel joined you soon after, fucking roughly into your walls until he found his release.

He kissed your sweaty forehead and got himself out, getting up to put the condom in the trash. He then laid beside you and pulled you close with his strong arm. You were breathing heavily, still on your high.

“Glad to hear you have a real orgasm, babydoll.”

You smiled lazily and kissed his jaw.

Lights filled the corridor, and the door of the bedroom was wide open. Tess appeared in the doorframe, and you pulled the blanket over you as a reflex, but she simply smirked as she looked at you two, laid beautifully on her son’s bed.

“You could’ve waited for me… ” She approached the bed and held your chin up with two fingers. Tess was a beautiful woman, even after hours of work as a nurse. “I’m so glad you got fucked real good, sweetheart.” She kissed your forehead, which made you blush. “Let me shower and I wanna see you two go at it again.”

You were hypnotized by the woman. You have never done anything with a woman before, but you’d do anything for her.

“Of course, miss Miller.” You said with a smile.

“Good girl.” Whispered Joel, sending shivers down your spine.

#bfd!joel #writing requests #dad!joel #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #hbo joel miller #joel miller x tess servopoulos x reader #bfd!joelmiller #bfd ! joel miller

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sant-riley · 6 months

Note

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

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yawnderu · 1 month

Text

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley — Masterlist 💀🖤

cr: @ave661

Simon Riley Moodboard | Smut Masterlist | Bimbo!Reader Masterlist | Dad!Ghost Masterlist

This Masterlist only has the material I've created in 2024. To explore older works, you can check my Main Masterlist, or use the tags #Simon Riley x Fem!Reader or #Ghost mw2 on my profile to access all my works!

Do not translate, post, or put my content into AI tools.

Ongoing Series Lorelei

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

K-9

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

Simon Riley is in love with an uninterested, tired medic.

Angel

Synopsis: Afraid of giving you the same destiny all his loved ones met, an emotionally unavailable Simon does his best to pretend being in love with you for one night, later deciding to introduce you to the one person who can give you the love you want; John Price.

Smut

Silly love-making

Simon's obsession with pornstar!reader

Sex on camera

No man could act this good

Using his naked body for art purposes

Love-making

FWB!Simon cucking your hookup

Tattoo Artist!Simon

Prettiest girl in Edinburgh

Hybrid cat!Reader tag teamed by Simon and Johnny

Soul-crushing devotion and medical emergencies

AI!Reader gets a physical body

Neet!Reader jerks him off

Hybrid wolf!Simon x Catgirl!Reader

Sleep-walking, but fucking instead

Simon becomes vocal when give him blowjobs

Rimming him

Monster fucker

Dick headcanons

Catgirl in heat

Drabbles

Gym bros Johnny and Simon

Creature!Reader

Tag team 🌶️

Simon Riley is a stray, roughed up cat

Seduction goes against the rules

Nymphomaniac!Reader

Immortal!Reader

The phrase ''the wife'' is always in Simon's mouth

Choking🌶️

Cock warming🌶️

Lipstick marks on his cock

Neet!Reader sniffing his armpits

Milf!Reader drives Simon insane🌶️

Military high ranked!Reader

What turns him off

I have no faith, but I believe in you

You and your daughter love his tattooed arm

Simon is a furnace

Creature!Reader cuddles

Asking for sex after he had a bad day

Cumming too early🌶️

Wearing a white wife beater

Girl dad

Raccoon

Simon makes weird faces under the mask

Juiciest ass in the Task Force

Bulking

Dating a MILF

Naked cuddles

Relationship similar to Batman and Catwoman

Work Song

Cumming on your glasses🌶️

Touch starvation

Fluff & Hurt/Comfort

Expensive presents

Displays of trust

The most broken man turns to religion when you're hurt

A man without big pecs is like an angel without wings

Simon Riley was made for soul-crushing devotion

Broken man in love

Cuddles after a bad day

Simon is a giant black cat

Ai!Assistant Reader

Ai!Assistant Reader bothering Simon

Second chance at being an uncle to your niece

''I'll be the weapon when he needs protection''

Moody catgirl

Red panda hybrid!Reader

Hiccups during sex🌶️

First relationship

Angst

Emotionally unavailable

Immortal!Reader doesn't come back to life

Angel - Part I | Part II

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captainfern · 3 months

Text

141Rugby!au [18+]

• Part Five - Perfect •

141 x fem!reader

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.

chapter summary - rugby season is over, and the boys want to thank you for all your hard work lol.

rating - 18+

wordcount - 8.7k

chapter warnings - fem!reader, straight-up porn the slowburn has ignited baby, sharing <3 [4mx1f], unprotected piv, protected anal, oral [f!&m!receiving], m!masturbation, reader goes to paris lmao, voyeurism ig, praise, a lot of pet-names [baby, bonnie, love, sweetheart, etc], hella dirty talk, light overstimulation, multiple orgasms, spitting? cumplay? idk there's a lot of bodily fluids, price has a breeding kink and a sir kink, simon also has a breeding kink what a fucking surprise, gaz is a munch, johnny's just desperately horny, they work as a team but each get possessive in their own ways, um... that's it i think, oh strong language ofc

disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3

see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words

<- part four

hi !! i am very sorry this took so long for me to write for you guys, but thank you so much for your patience and your support. i appreciate it !! and fyi, this has not been edited or anything like that. i’m posting this shit raw lmao. enjoy and thank you for reading <3

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

It was two weeks after Price had asked if you were free this weekend. You were free, and you met up with the boys for dinner. It was nice, polite, and you really got to know them all a lot better. But, undeniably, the sexual tension was through the roof.

If it had been any other day, you would've gone home with them. But you didn't. You had work bright and early the next day, and you knew for a fact you wouldn't have been able to walk.

But two weeks later, it was the night of the Premiership Rugby Awards. Perfect.

The event itself was almost simply a blur. Kyle and Johnny were both commended for their work on and off the rugby field, and you beamed from your spot at the support staff table, watching them congratulate each other, dressed impeccably in ridiculously attractive suits.

Price was nominated for captain of the year, and was runner-up. Still, his team whooped and cheered for him, and you did the same. You and the other supporting staff clapped and hollered as he received a small award, standing awkwardly on stage. At least he didn't have to speak. Walking back to his table, he caught your eye and smiled, winking as the small glass trophy glinted in the light. He held it aloft for you to see, a subtle gesture that made your tummy flip. You held up a thumbs-up for him.

Then, the award of the night, Player of the Year. Simon was nominated and, hardly any surprises there, he won. You resisted the urge to spring to your feet and join the audience in the rapturous applause as he made his way on stage.

He looked out of his depth as he approached the microphone. But, hey, at least he looked really fucking good in that suit. You sipped casually at your champagne through the entire night and listened to the rich baritone of his voice as he delivered his quick, simple speech. And, towards the end–

"A huge thank you, too, to my team's support staff, and especially our physiotherapist, who should be getting award considering she keeps the lot of us intact and puts up with us on a daily basis."

The crowd laughed at that, and you smiled bashfully. Even from across the room, you could feel Simon's eyes on you. And John's. And Johnny's and Kyle's. You took another swig of your beverage, pressing your thighs together beneath the table.

Oh yeah.

Tonight was the night.

•º•º

Hours later, you and Gaz stumbled through the door of Johnny and Simon's flat together. He had his hands on your waist, his chest glued to your back and his face buried deep into the crook of your neck. You giggled as he wrapped his arms further around you, your hands resting on his forearms as he slowly began sucking a kiss onto the curve of your neck.

Although no one was drunk, you and Gaz were definitely the tipsiest. The small amount of alcohol in your system was enough to flood you full of liquid courage as you squirmed in Gaz's hold, rubbing your arse back onto his very prominent erection in his suit trousers. He groaned into the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing against you, as the three others finally walked through the front door.

Johnny was the first to engage– his eyes lit up in excitement as he kicked his shoes off and hurried over to you and Gaz. You giggled again, smiling at his enthusiasm as he grasped your face in both of his hands and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss– messy with tongue and spit– and enjoyed the warmth of his hands against the side of your head. Gaz had backed himself against the wall, and he continued to suck a line of kisses over your neck as Johnny kissed you.

Simon and Price stood in the doorway, watching the way you were wedged between Johnny and Gaz. They exchanged a look, a knowing glint in their eyes, before they made their move.

Price lit up a cigar as Simon shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it into the living room and hoping it landed across the couch. He was left in his white, form-fitting dress shirt. He began rolling up the sleeves as Price exhaled a puff of smoke into the air.

Johnny was still kissing you like his life depended on it, but one of his hands had travelled south, slowly beginning to peel away the straps of your dress. They fell down your shoulders, and Gaz helped push it down your arm, all the way until your breasts spilled out the front. Johnny broke the kiss and moaned loudly, his hands immediately shooting upwards to cup you, twisting your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined, arching against Gaz, whose hands travelled down your stomach and pushed your dress down at the same time.

Your dress dropped, pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your underwear. You heard all four boys react in different ways to the almost dramatic reveal of your body– a subtle hitch of the breath from Simon and Price, and two very desperate whimpers from Gaz and Johnny.

Wordlessly, Gaz's hands skimmed lower. They passed gently over the soft mound of your tummy, rubbing gently just above the hemline of your underwear. He was less than a second away from pushing his fingertips inside when Simon approached; a looming shadow over the three of you intwined against the wall.

Gaz looked up, his mouth still pressed hot against the bare curve of your neck and shoulder. His lips glistened with saliva, and so did your skin. Johnny looked at Simon too, his hands still cupping both of your tits.

"Not here," Simon said softly. "Come on lads, be gentleman. Let's take our girl to bed."

You whined when Johnny stepped away, the warmth on your tits vanishing with him, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the flat. Even the warmth of Gaz disappeared too– he peeled himself away from you with one last cheeky kiss to the spot just below your ear. For a brief moment, you were alone– until Simon's hands were suddenly gripping the back of your thighs and he was hoisting you into his arms.

You yelped, arms circling the broad expanse of his shoulders as he held you to his chest, your nipples catching against the buttons of his dress shirt as you squirmed against him. You squirmed for two reasons: one being because of the shock of him carrying you; and two, the fact he was happily groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he began to climb the stairs.

"S'alright, pretty girl, I've got you," Simon murmured in your ear before kissing your cheek. With impressive strength– the strength that won him Player Of The Year– he carried you effortlessly to the top of the stairs, and then carried you all the way to what was presumably his bedroom. When he entered, Gaz, Johnny and Price weren't far behind, and he settled you gently on the edge of his bed. With one hand, he gently cupped your face. "You okay, doc? S'this what you want? All of us?"

You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, looking between the men in front of you with glimmering eyes. Of course this is what you wanted. This is what you have wanted for the past several months.

"If at any point you want us to stop, jus' say rugby," Simon said, a sternness in his tone that had your cunt leaking in your underwear. "We'll stop, okay? Promise me, doc. Promise us."

"I promise," you squeaked out. "I promise."

"Good girl..." Price uttered, leaning down from next to Simon and kissing you on the forehead. He stepped away before you could pull him into a proper kiss.

Instead, you reached up and pinched your fingers around one of the buttons on Simon's shirt, beginning to unbutton it. He chuckled lowly, his hand leaving your face to grab hold of your wrist.

"Not yet, love," he said softly, his tone putting you at ease as butterflies began filling your stomach. "We've got this all planned out, okay? You'll have me soon, but Gaz n' Johnny are gonna make you feel good first. Is that okay?"

His words, searching for your consent, made you whimper. You nodded, of course, whining a yes please as Simon stepped away. Your eyes found Gaz, who was already walking towards you, and you couldn't help but giggle when he got close and slotted his mouth to yours.

Gaz kissed you deeply, his tongue breaching the seam of your lips and licking against yours as his hands came to rest on your hips. With a little force, he pushed you up the bed– still kissing you– and lay you down on your back. Your hands found his shoulders– now bare of his suit– and your fingers flexed down the smooth planes of muscle. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back and dragging his lips down the curve of your jaw, beginning to suck even more kisses to the sensitive expanse of your throat.

"Such a pretty girl, bonnie..." Johnny approached, the bed sinking to his weight as he crawled alongside you. Immediately, he slipped his hands between you and Gaz and began pawing at your tits, rolling your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Like Gaz, he had somehow stripped to his briefs between Simon putting you down onto the bed, and now. The hard imprint of his cock against his black underwear had you moaning, arching against Gaz– your clothed cunt rocking against his erection, making you moan even harder.

Johnny kissed you again as Gaz worked on peppering your entire body with kisses. He was now slapping Johnny's hands away from your tits so that he could take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around you. Johnny broke the kiss with a saliva-soaked "th'fuck?" and a light frown. Gaz looked up at him challengingly as he pressed his tongue hot to your nipple– pulling a little whimper from you– and Johnny accepted his challenging stare. The Scot slinked down your body, not wasting any time with extra kisses– instead, he attached his mouth directly to your other breast, his teeth nipping the soft flesh.

Across the room, Simon and Price watched. They were a bit older, a bit more experienced, and had a bit more patience then the two players pinning you to the mattress currently. Although, Simon could feel his patience wearing thin. Your moans and whimpers were heavenly, and you looked absolutely stunning. He felt his cock twitching in his trousers, and kept his palm pressing heavily against it.

Price eyed his teammate and then offered him a puff of his cigar while Gaz and Johnny sucked and kissed your chest, their hands beginning to explore your almost naked body.

Simon accepted the cigar and took a long drag. Price huffed, smiling coyly when Simon returned the cigar. "Patience, Simon." It was said in a whisper, and Simon's response was a grunt and a subtle roll of his eyes. Yeah, he can be patient. Sure.

"Gaz, Johnny, fuck–" You whimpered, one of your hands cupping both Gaz and Johnny's heads. Gaz blinked up at you and was the first to detach his mouth, lips still shining with his saliva.

He moved down your body as Johnny continued his sucking– he had moved back to your neck, nipping at your collarbone now. Gaz settled himself between your legs, rubbing your thighs softly before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He searched your eyes for permission and when he found it, when you nodded and mouthed a desperate please, he carefully pulled your underwear down.

Instead of tossing them across the room like he usually would have done, he looked to his side and held them aloft, gesturing at the two men sitting on the couch in the corner of Simon's room.

Simon nodded, and snatched them up after Gaz threw them. His cock twitched in his trousers, painfully hard against the seams, as he felt the sheer dampness of your underwear and the expensive fabric against his hand. God, he wanted to wrap it around his cock and paint it white.

Gaz moaned loudly as he spread your legs, exposing your cunt to the shadowed lighting of Simon's room. Price and Simon's eyes were between your legs from across the room, and Price withheld a grunt in his throat, almost choking around an exhale of grey smoke. Like Simon, he left his cock twitching and straining in the confines of his trousers. There was a mutual competition that whoever gave in first and fucked their fist lost. There weren't any particular stakes. Not yet, anyway.

"Just as pretty as I remember," Gaz breathed, massaging your inner thighs. He watched slick dribble out of you and down the curve of your arse with a vulpine smile.

Above him, Johnny removed his mouth from your neck and you could feel how damp your skin was now. You wanted to turn your head to look at him, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Gaz.

The winger kneaded your thighs gently, massaging his fingers into the soft fat as he spread you out for him. His eyes, gleaming with excitement, were transfixed on the way your cunt fluttered, your swollen clit glistening between your folds. You watched him run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to your pussy.

You gasped, chest heaving, eyes still on Gaz when he placed another kiss against you, as though he was kissing your cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and a deep moan rumbled from his chest. Quickly, he deepened the kiss until he was licking the point of his tongue through your folds and his nose was pressed flush to your clit.

"Oh, fuck–" you whimpered. Memories of the way Gaz ate you out last time flooded you, making your body heat up. He was so fucking good.

He looked up at you from between your legs, soft brown eyes staring into yours. They were still gleaming, crinkled at the edges as though he was smiling– smiling into your soaked cunt as he dragged his tongue through your folds and licked up as much of your arousal as he could. Cheeky little–

A hand grabbed your jaw and forced your head to the side. You parted your lips to gasp, but the sound was sucked from your mouth as Johnny smashed his mouth to yours.

He held your face firmly, whining loudly into the kiss as he licked his tongue against yours. His other hand was dipping into his briefs and pulling his achingly hard cock out. He fisted it, whining loudly again, and you couldn't help but smile.

Clearly, Simon found it amusing too.

"Gettin' desperate, are we, Johnny?" He mocked from across the room.

Johnny broke the kiss, panting against your mouth as he jerked his cock, his hand still holding your head in place. He whined softly when his fingertips ghosted the underside of his cockhead, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to bite back at Simon's remark.

"S'not fair..." He whined again, sounding more and more like a wounded puppy, or something else along those lines. "She's got such a pretty mouth an' s'not bein' used properly."

He kissed you deeply again, all spit and teeth and tongue. It was hard to keep up, the way Johnny was invading your space. Your brain was foggy, body on fire, only thinking about the men around you and, especially, the fact you were about to come.

You moaned into Johnny's mouth– both Price and Simon moaning in response as they palmed at their clothed hard-ons– as Gaz sucked your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the puffy bud, his top teeth just skimming it, before he was quickly dragging his mouth just that little bit lower so that he could stuff your leaking hole. He pushed his tongue in with a light moan, grinding his hips into the mattress as he did so. Your taste, your smell, your noises, everything was making him harder.

You managed to turn your head away from Johnny's mouth. He huffed, leaning his forehead against your temple, mouthing at your cheek and jaw with light puffs eliciting from his saliva-slick lips. He was still jerking himself off, his cock leaking pre-cum onto Simon's sheets.

"Kyle..." You moaned the winger's government name. "M'gonna– oh my god, oh my god–"

Gaz kept the thrusting of his tongue steady, humming against you as your legs shook within his grasp.

Johnny, the desperate man he was, pulled your mouth back to his, licking a stripe over your lips before muttering, "That's a good girl, bonnie. Come for us. Come n' then I'll– I'll stuff this pret– fuck, pretty mouth with my– ah– my cock." After uttering that against your lips, he was shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

Then, you came for the first time of the night.

The coil in your lower belly snapped and you moaned loudly against Johnny, back arching off of Simon's mattress as Gaz held your hips and thighs, pinning them as he licked you through your orgasm. His eyes were on you the entire time, watching as you unravelled while he licked up your release which dripped out of you and down his chin.

When Gaz pulled away, Johnny was manhandling you onto your hands and knees. You yelped, still fuzzy from your orgasm, as the Scot pulled you into position where your head was resting on one of his hairy thighs, your arse in the air.

"Need you," he muttered, pawing at the back of your neck while he stroked his cock and guided it towards your mouth. "Need you so fuckin' bad–"

"Slow down, Johnny." Simon growled from across the room.

Gaz laughed as he got up, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of your arousal that tracked down his chin and, now, down the column of his neck. He rolled his shoulders, easing the tension from laying on his front, before shucking down his briefs and shuffling back onto the bed.

"He's been waiting a long time for this, Simon," Gaz joked in the number eight's direction. "He knows our girl's been worth the wait."

Simon grunted, Price's cigar now between his lips. "Still doesn't mean he can throw her around like that."

"Simon–" Johnny gasped from the head of the bed. He was dragging the leaking, reddened tip of his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over his saliva which already wet you. He looked over at his teammate. "Shut the fuck up."

Simon scowled. "Watch it–"

But Johnny wasn't listening anymore. Not when he eased his cock past your lips and into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. He moaned, really fucking loudly, as you hollowed your cheeks for him and took him further back in your throat. You withheld a gag, tears blotting the base of your vision as Johnny's cock nudged the back of your throat.

"JesusfuckingChrist," The Scot hissed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening so he could pull you closer towards him. Your nose rested in the coarse hair at the base of your cock, and you moaned quietly, eyes upwards and locked onto his. You could already feel him twitching in your mouth as you gently bobbed your head, a trickle of saliva being forced out from the corner of your mouth.

Meanwhile, Gaz was gripping his cock tightly at the base, his other hand squishing and squeezing at the fat of your arse and thighs. He was muttering something to himself, something you couldn't hear, but whatever it was made Soap chuckle above you.

"F'you like her arse so much, use it," Johnny joked, and you whined, your core fluttering.

Behind you, Gaz stopped muttering beneath his breath and released a breathy laugh, his hand holding one of your arsecheeks and pulling it gently to the side. "I'll need to stretch her out first..."

"We've got all night," Soap remarked, thrusting his hips and making you gag around him. A tear rolled down your cheek and you hummed out a whine at the way both of them were talking about you as if you weren't even there.

You couldn't see it, but Gaz smiled. He then vanished from behind you for a moment, before returning, popping the cap on the small bottle of lube and pouring a generous amount over two of his fingers. He then spread you again, pouring even more of the cool liquid directly onto your hole. And, for good measure, he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth and slide down your crack.

You moaned loudly around Johnny's cock as one of Kyle's fingers pressed against your hole, rubbing circles carefully while his other hand reached between your legs to rub a finger over your puffy clit. You moaned again, and the vibrations had Johnny whimpering quietly above you, hips bucking, the grip he had on the back of your neck tightening.

"Such a pretty mouth, such a pretty mouth," he chanted through his whining, eyes screwed shut and head tossed back as he continued to push and pull your head down his length.

Across the room, the sounds of your muffled moans and Johnny's whines, paired with the sight of Gaz spreading you open before him was enough– enough for him to hastily pull his cock out of his trousers and wrap it in your soaked underwear. He jerked his fist once, twice, three times before stopping, glancing over at Price who simply shook his head, chuckling.

"Soap," Price said after he had finished giving Simon an amused look. "Let our girl breath, yeah? Give her a break."

Your eyes rolled and you moaned loudly– not at Price's words, but at the feeling of Gaz pushing a thick finger into your arse, gently probing and stretching you open. You wondered if the light buzz of alcohol in your veins was making the sensations a whole lot more enjoyable.

Johnny whined. "But–"

"Pull your fuckin' cock out, Johnny," Simon hissed, resuming his hand movements, your underwear still wrapped around his dick.

Johnny whined once more, but pulled out like his captain and teammate said. He continued to hold the back of your neck, petting you gently as he slid his cock out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft. He moaned at the sight, tempted to shove it back into the warmth of your mouth– but the burning sensation of Simon's eyes on him made him pause.

"This better fuckin' mean I get to fill her cunt," he grumbled, much to your amusement. You smiled up at him, and he smiled back, moving his other hand to cradle the side of your head.

Price grunted, and you broke eye contact with the scrum-half to look over at him and Simon on the couch. He too was pulling his hard cock out of his trousers and fisting it in his hand. The sheer size of the both of them made your core heat up all over again, butterflies returning to your stomach.

After a short moment, Gaz had two fingers inside you, scissoring you open while Johnny pet your face, staring down at you as you mouthed gently at his cock. You ran the tip of your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside, causing his entire body to wrack with shudders.

"Ready?" Gaz asked Soap, and the Scot looked away from you in the first time in about five minutes.

He nodded eagerly, a grin splitting across his face as he slid his hands beneath your armpits and hoisted you up onto your knees. You yelped, the action unexpected, and the sudden loss of Gaz's fingers from inside you making you feel empty, almost hollow. But, as Gaz split open a condom and rolled it onto his length, Soap's hands were all over you, and not once did you feel empty again.

"You alright, bonnie?" He asked, hands gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, his cock rutting through the folds of your pussy.

You momentarily lost your train of thought, your mouth dropping open and a small "uh..." dripping from it.

Price exhaled a plume of smoke around his words as he spoke to you. "Use your words, darling. S'alright if you want to stop."

Forcing your muddled mind away from the feeling of Soap's warm cock, you looked over at Simon and Price and shook your head, uttering out a string of "no, no, no."

"M'fine," you added for good measure. "Please don't stop."

As long as they had the green light, the lads weren't going to stop. Gaz had a large hand across one of your arsecheeks, holding it to the side as he guided the head of his cock to your stretched hole. Johnny waited patiently, his cockhead rubbing cruel circles against your swollen clit, not quite enough to give you proper stimulation. But, it was a pleasant distraction– a distraction from the initial stretch of Gaz carefully pushing his cock into you. Slow, slow, slow.

You released a shuddered gasp, head dropping forward to rest on Johnny's shoulder. Breathing laboured, you panted against his dewy skin as Gaz stopped, pulled out a centimetre, then pushed back in– over and over until his hips were wedged up right against your backside and he was dipping his mouth into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume.

"Good girl, baby..." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the pulse below your ear. "This okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah... it's okay."

"Tell me when you want me to move."

"Now," you said almost immediately, mind fuzzing over with pleasure. The pleasure of feeling full and hot and sweaty and completely fucked out. "Please move, Kyle, fuck–"

He did. He pulled out and pushed back in, ebbing like the tide with gentle thrusts that knocked the air out of your lungs. You cried out his name, head no longer resting on Johnny's shoulder, but leaning back against Gaz's.

Johnny couldn't wait any longer. The tip of his cock soon aligned with your leaking cunt, and he was pushing in just as Gaz pushed in as well. Both me released a guttural groan, their cock's only separated by a thin wall inside you.

But the noise you made was nothing short of pornographic– a high-pitched, breathy whine that was punched from the depth of your stomach. Your entire body fizzled, tingling with pleasure as both men used you at the same time, thrusting in and out at the same time. The intensity of it all had tears running down your cheeks, your chest tightening between breaths.

Soap's voice broke around a whimper. "You're so damn tight."

Gaz was next to speak. "Can't believe... can't believe we went so long without having you, eh, doc?"

The way they were talking to you was driving you crazy. Hell, the way they were moving against you was driving you crazy. You couldn't believe you went so long without letting them have you, either.

"Doing such a good job for Johnny and Kyle, sweetheart," Simon said, which you only heard vaguely, like an echo in a dark room. "Looking so fuckin' pretty taking both of their cocks. Doesn't she, lads?"

"Fuck, yeah–" Johnny moaned, not really listening, his eyes attached to the way his cock pistoned in and out of you.

Gaz was the same. Distracted. Too busy sucking wet kisses along the side of your neck. Too busy trying not to come straight away, the tight walls of your hole milking his cock with each upwards thrust. He did leave his trance-like state for a short period of time, enough to praise you and say your name in a breathless moan.

"Our good girl, doc. Y'just our good girl," he breathed against you. "Fuck– knew you'd be good. We just knew you'd be perfect."

That sentence alone had your stomach tightening with your next orgasm, thighs trembling and sweat building between your bodies. For a split second, you wondered what your electrolyte levels would be after this (the thought was wiped from your head when the head of Johnny's cock slammed up against your g-spot, making you mewl).

You struggled to keep your eyes open as your climax neared. Your senses were going into hyperdrive– the smells, the sounds, the everything was making you drunker than the alcohol you had already consumed earlier that night.

The smells of Soap and Gaz, their sweat and cologne, was like an aphrodisiac as they pinned you between their bodies, moving in tandem. The sounds of Johnny's moans and whimpers, and Gaz's breathless whines and grunts were driving you insane– as were the quiet groans coming from the couch across the room.

"Gaz... Johnny..." You mewled, body hot, clit throbbing. "I..."

You couldn't finish your sentence. Luckily, you didn't have too.

"Gonna come?" It was Price who put the words out into the open. "You gonna come, pretty girl? Go on. Tell 'em."

You repeated the first two words Price had said, following them with desperate moans of both Johnny and Kyle's names. Johnny's hands tightened on yours, slamming up into you while Kyle's were smoothing up and down your abdomen, hips grinding into your backside. The sensations threw you over the edge.

You came hard– both men caught off guard by the way your body tightened around them. Your head dropped back against Gaz's shoulder, and he kissed your cheek.

"Holy fuck," Johnny cursed, breathless. His chest was heaving, forehead glistening in a thin layer of sweat, and a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Your cunt fluttered around the girth of him, all wet and warm and tight, causing his thrusts to falter, stutter, before he was coming inside you with no warning. "Holy fuck."

You whimpered, energy being sapped from your body at the feeling of him coming inside you while you were still coming down from your high. You could feel his cock twitching as he emptied himself up against your cervix, but you were distracted from the simple movement when he leaned forward and slotted his mouth against yours.

Soap kissed you exactly how he'd kissed you at the beginning of the night. Still full of passion and longing as the warm mass of his tongue swept over yours, slicking over the tops of your teeth. One of his hands found the back of your neck once more, and he held you to him while you kissed– all the while Gaz continued to rut gently into you, his own orgasm nearing.

"Baby, m'gonna pull out..." Gaz whispered into your ear, one of his hands kneading the flesh of your arse. "M'gonna pull out, take this fuckin' condom off, and come where you want me to come, m'kay?"

You forced your way out of Soap's searing kiss, turning your head so you could nod your acknowledgment to the winger behind you (luckily for you, he began kissing down your chest instead). Gaz did as he said and pulled out. He did so slowly, his hands rubbing your arse and hips the entire time. When his cock left you, you released a little whine, cool air seeming to fill you and make you shiver.

"You're okay, you're okay..." Gaz reappeared behind you after pulling his condom off, tying it and tossing it somewhere in the room (Simon had shot him a dirty look for that). One of his hands was on your hip again, his body melting into yours, his chest to your back. You could feel him fisting his cock behind you, the leaking tip smearing pre across the small of your back.

"Where d'you want me?" He asked you softly, and for a moment, it just felt as though you and him were the only ones in the room. If it wasn't for Soap sucking on your tits like a fucking maniac, the private intimacy between you and Kyle would've been believable.

To answer, you wiggled your hips against him, mumbling something along the lines of on me while trying to grab a fistful of Soap's mohawk and pull him away so you could arch forward. The Scot was stubborn, though, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth with a sparkle in his eyes.

Simon helped you out.

"Johnny, don't fuckin' push it," he growled and that was the first time you had heard him speak in a while.

You looked over to him, finding that he was still languidly fisting his cock; the tip red and angry, leaking pearl after pearl of precum. He was edging himself. Your stomach flipped with arousal, pussy fluttering.

Johnny backed off like a kicked dog, pouting as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. Gaz smiled, winking at his Scottish teammate as he placed a hand to the small of your back and guided you onto your knees and elbows, creating a perfect arch in your back and a perfect view of your arse for him. Then, he quickened the pace of his wrist, stroking his cock for a few seconds before he was painting your arse white.

Like Soap, Gaz moaned loudly when he came. The sound dissolved into a low whine as he fucked his fist through it, not stopping until he ran dry and his cock only just softened beneath his grip.

A few moments passed before you flattened yourself across the bed, laying on your stomach with exhaustion rolling over your body in waves. Johnny was the first to up and leave, placing a kiss to the crown of your head before he was moving across the room. Gaz stayed with you, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"Doing so well for us," he told you. "D'you need anything? Water?"

You nodded and mere seconds later, Johnny was offering you a glass of cold water. You sat up to drink it, Gaz's cum smearing against Simon's sheets. You were hyperaware of Soap's cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets too. It made goosebumps bloom up your arms and legs, a shiver crawling through you.

Once you had drunken, the lads switched places like they had been practising.

Johnny and Gaz slipped away with one more kiss each to your lips, before two larger, broader figures were blocking your vision. Both Price and Simon had stripped now, all big chests and soft stomachs and hard cocks. It made you salivate.

"Just a bit longer, sweetheart, then you can have a nice break," Price cooed, walking up to the edge of the bed and placing his hand beneath your chin, gripping your jaw and angling your eyes up to him. While he did that, Simon slipped onto the bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight, and slotted himself up against you. Price squeezed your jaw once. "You feeling okay?"

You nodded, but something inside you prompted you to respond with a sultry "Yes, sir" while you stared up at him. A coy smile split along his face and before long, he was leaning down to kiss you. He tasted of smoke and expensive liquor as he kissed you, his tongue immediately invading your mouth.

"You want her first?" Simon asked, and you jolted in fright, almost forgetting he was right behind you.

John broke the kiss and, still holding your jaw, looked over at Simon and shook his head.

"You can go first."

The arrangement was set.

Simon pulled you away from John, and you couldn't help but yelp at the way he manhandled you onto your stomach. Then, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto your knees, your breasts and arms resting against the bed. The captain had crawled onto the bed and, after tossing aside Simon's pillows, settled himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He spread his legs, patting one of his thick thighs invitingly.

Simon acted for you– pushing you up the bed and pushing another startled yelp from you. Your head came to rest against the warm, solid mass of Price's thigh, and his hand was put to work atop your head, petting you as though you were a cat.

Behind you, the number eight was nudging your legs apart with his knee, his large body doubling over yours as he slotted his hips against your arse, his achingly hard cock brushing over your soaked folds. You keened, moaning lightly as the tip of his cock nudged your clit, the thick weight of him smearing your and Johnny's cum up and down your slit. It made you shiver again.

"You don't have to do anything, okay, sweetheart?" Price uttered above you, still petting your head. His other hand gripped the base of his cock tightly. You watched a dribble of precum leak down the underside of it. "You're just going to lay there and be a good girl for me and Simon, okay? Be a good girl and take everything we give you."

At the completion of the captain's sentence, Simon notched the head of his cock at your hole. Your breath hitched.

Price cooed down at you. "S'alright... that's a good girl, just take it."

Simon eased into you, his cock splitting you open more than Soap's had. He was a bit thicker, and the stretch of it all had a moan catching in your throat. It stayed there until Simon bottomed out– the sound filtering from your mouth sounding like something out of a low-budget porno (it made Price's cock twitch, though).

"Fuck," you heard Simon hiss behind you. "S'a tight fuckin' pussy."

"Told you."

"Shut the fuck up, Johnny." Simon almost growled as he pulled out and then slammed back into you.

You cried out, sobbing a "S-Simon!" as his pace increased, his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time. You could feel the ruddy tip of him hitting the plug of your cervix, his girth stretching you open in such a way that you wondered whether you'd be able to walk tomorrow.

Probably not.

You realised both Gaz and Soap were sitting on the couch, and without even turning your head, you knew they'd be watching with their cock in hand. The intensity of the entire situation was otherworldly, and most definitely contributing to the fast rate at which your orgasm was approaching.

The sound of Ghost's cock moving in and out of you was lewd and wet. Wet shlick, shlick, shlick's and the slapping sound of skin-on-skin echoed throughout Simon's room, as well as the occasional creak of the bedframe and the hushed sounds of pleasure coming from the couch.

Bent over you, Simon was huffing and grunting. Deep groans left his parted lips periodically as he fought off his orgasm. God, the second he shoved his cock into the tight clutch of your cunt he wanted to come. But not yet. Not fucking yet.

"S'that feelin' good, pretty girl?" He asked you, his voice swimming through your head.

"Yes–!" You cried, one hand holding Price's wrist (his hand was still on your head), the other fisting the bedsheets beside Price's other leg.

"Yeah? You like being fucked by all four of us, hm? Like being stuffed full, don't you?" He didn't let you answer. He continued, "O'course you do, baby. 'Course you do. Such a needy little pussy... She just loves gettin' filled up, I can feel it."

Words evaded you. So you nodded. You nodded against Price's thigh, tears smearing against his hairy skin. He petted you gently, shushing you as Simon continued to rut into you, his entire body shaking with restraint. He needed you to come first.

"Want you to come for me," Simon whispered to you. "Want you to come all over my cock."

Then, one of his hands found your clit, and you were a goner. He rubbed three rough shapes across the swollen bud, and you were coming with his name falling from your lips.

You squeezed him tight, gushing around him as pleasure overtook you. The entire time you spasmed, your cunt leaking out around his cock, John held you against the mass of his thigh, petting you and massaging down your neck. You heard the odd "good girl" being whispered from him.

Simon praised you in similar fashion. "Good girl. Good fucking girl. My good girl."

The last part was whispered so quietly that you were sure no one else heard it but you. He said it as he curled over you, his chin against your shoulder, his massive arms holding himself over you as he fucked you hard.

"My perfect girl," he whispered again. Only to you. Then, it was like something went off in his brain. He released a low growl, something like a groan but much deeper. "M'gonna come."

"S'about fuckin' time," John joked, but Simon didn't find it at all funny. He ignored his captain.

His attention was only on you.

"M'gonna come right up in here, love." Simon held himself up with one arm, his other arm winding beneath you to grab hold of your tummy. He gripped it, kneading it, before pushing against it until you let out a small moan, the pressure making you dizzy. "M'gonna fill this pretty tummy right up. Fuckin' breed you right in front of the boys."

You were definitely drooling against Price's thigh.

With one last grinding thrust– and just as overstimulation crept into your head– Simon came. He came with a grunt and a quiet moan of your name, his cock right up against your womb as he emptied himself, filling you hot.

The heat made you moan, as well as the image of his cum mixing with Soap's and filling your womb.

What the hell–

The number eight didn't pull out straight away. He stilled above you, hips flush to your arse and his half-hard cock still plugging his cum inside you. Against Price's thigh, you mewled tiredly, shuffling your backside against the solid form of Simon behind you, your hands now travelling along the captain's legs.

Finally, Simon extracted his body from yours, but remained inside you. He kneeled, his large hands travelling down your back before finding your arse. He chuckled to himself, dragging his fingers through Gaz's load that painted you. With his pointer finger, he drew a smeared SR against your left arsecheek.

"Simon, gross," You complained, listening to the way he chuckled darkly to himself. You couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew he was probably grinning too.

Just like in the small period of grace between Soap and Gaz, and Simon and Price, you were offered water, with each man waiting patiently until you had finished the glass. While you drank, the four pairs of eyes on you made your stomach tighten.

This was all so foreign. But, god, you fucking loved it.

When the glass of water was placed soundly on the bedside table, Price slid down from the top of the bed and kneeled towards the end. He held out a hand to you, and you accepted, enabling him to gently lay you down with your head in the pillows (Simon had ordered Soap to pick them off the floor from when Price tossed them).

"Comfortable?" Price asked you, running his warm hands up and down your sides before slowly, slowly parting your legs and exposing your cunt to him.

You nodded. "Yes, sir."

He huffed proudly at that, a small smile surfacing. His hands shifted, and he brushed his knuckles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Beside you, the bed dipped. Simon kneeled on the floor next to the bed, his upper body leaning against the mattress. It was the perfect angle to cradle your face in his hands and wipe the steadily drying streaks of tears and saliva from your skin with his fingers.

Fingers, you realised, had not been cleaned. Fingers that still trekked a milky stripe of Gaz over your face.

You grimaced, and by the way Ghost was biting his lip to hide a smile, he knew what the grimace was for.

"S'a matter, pretty girl? S'just a bit a'cum," he teased lowly, and you had half the mind to smack his hand away. But his next words had you forgiving the action– the cheeky bastard. "Look so pretty covered in us, don't you?"

Kneeling between your legs, Price grunted his agreement with his teammate. He was fisting his cock, watching Simon and Soap's loads dribble out of you.

Pushing his hips forward, he slowly ran the head of his cock up your slit, making a mess of you. You whined, hands holding one of Simon's, as Price repeated the action a couple of times, eyes transfixed.

When Price's eyes did finally find yours, they were glazed, his pupils blown.

"Beg for it, sweetheart," he uttered, voice hoarse. "Beg for my cock."

You did. You started with a few desperate please's and several different curse words when you struggled to find the right things to say. But eventually, with your heart hammering against your ribcage and your clit pulsing in tandem with it, you begged out a yearning, "Please, sir, please– need your cock so bad. Please, captain–"

The captain hummed, pleased, as he thrusted himself into you without another warning. You cried out, arching off the bed as your cunt stretched around him, the tip of him knocking up against the plug of your womb just like Simon's had. It all felt so good you wanted to cry.

"That's it..." Simon whispered to you, nuzzling the side of your head as Price set his pace.

He held your legs either side of him as he fucked you, shunting your body against the mattress again and again. You'd already fucked him before, in his car just a couple of week ago, but this was different. So much different.

It's like he had something to prove. Maybe it was because his teammates, his closest friends, were watching, but he fucked you like he owned you. His thrusts were deep and driving and hit the perfect spot inside you each time. His hands on your legs were firm but gentle, and the way his eyes raked hungrily up your body were claiming enough.

His fingers dipped down to your arse momentarily as he shifted your hips, changing the angle so he could fuck you deeper. He looked over at Simon for a split second and nodded towards one of the pillows. The number eight got the hint, reaching over your head to grab one of his pillows. While he did that, unbeknownst to both you and Simon, Price's fingers wiped the sticky SR from your skin.

Once he had the pillow, Price shoved the pillow beneath you to keep your hips at the perfect angle. This way, he could continue to fuck his cock deeper and deeper into you, and still continue to worship your body with your hands.

But, he was closer than he would've liked to admit. He could feel, with each thrust, and each tightening of your slick, warm walls, his orgasm looming closer and close. That familiar coiling heat in his lower belly.

"C'mon, sweet girl, need you to come," he said breathlessly, then proceeded to push your legs upwards, bending your knees towards your ears. "Need you to come 'round my cock."

"M'close..." You whined, and the change in angle was pulling you tighter, sweat sticking you to the sheets below. But your body was exhausted, shaking and trembling and filled with honey-like pleasure that had your joints feeling heavy. "John, I don't... fuck, I can't–"

"Yes you can, sweetheart, yes you can," Price whispered, leaning down to kiss you. It was a sweet kiss, his facial hair tickling the warm skin of your cheeks and chin. When he pulled away, he placed a few more kisses to your nose, your cheeks and your jaw. "Just one more time for me. C'mon. One more time for your captain."

Well, when he put it that way...

It was like he had trained you, Pavlov's dog style. Your body jerked and you arched up against him, the same time the band of pleasure in your lower abdomen snapped.

"John!" You almost screamed, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Warmth seeped into your body, flooding your veins as you came around his cock, spasming and fluttering. You were dizzy, euphoria blinding you as he fucked you through it, Simon's hands on your head keeping you grounded.

Your release gushed around John, and he groaned at the way you drenched his pubic hair. The sounds of him moving in and out of you too were too much for him to handle.

(And too much for Soap and Gaz to handle, who spilled over their fists with loud moans from where they were sitting on the couch).

Price desperately wanted to praise you as his girl, a possessive my girl spoken into the universe. But, as captain, he knew better. As much as it did pain him to say, he croaked out a, "That's our girl."

You whined and whimpered, your body thoroughly fucked-out. As much as you enjoyed this, you felt as though you wouldn't be walking for the next few days, and would probably sleep for the next thirty-six hours.

"John, sir..."

"I know, sweetheart, I know, m'coming," he muttered, thrusts beginning to falter. "M'gonna come deep in this tight little pussy. Yeah... fill her up real good."

First Simon, now John? Damn. The personification of your pussy was not what you expected to get out of this tonight. But you weren't complaining.

The captain came, moaning your name loudly into the room. With a gentle hand splayed across your belly, he emptied himself inside you alongside two of his teammates'. The feeling of it never ceased to make his mouth drop open in pleasure.

Simon kissed your temple. "Alright, pretty girl?"

You nodded. "Yeah... more than alright."

•º•º•

You should have known that all four men would be absolute kings at aftercare. It was pure bliss.

Johnny popped into Simon's bathroom to run you a bath while Simon cradled you in his arms, not letting you feel an ounce of loneliness. He had dragged you over to the couch, hugging you to his broad chest and watching as Gaz stripped the bed and made quick work of changing the sheets. Price entered the room with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of your favourite sweets (you didn't question why Johnny and Simon had them in their flat in the first place).

You sipped your water and snacked on the sugary food for a little while, Ghost's hands rubbing up and down your back. Before long, Johnny reappeared and helped his teammate in guiding you towards the bathroom.

There was a slight argument between who was going to get into the bath with you, but ultimately Gaz one, and Simon begrudgingly handed you over to him. The pair of you sunk into the warm water, and you immediately melted back into him.

"Did such a good job for us, doc..." Gaz whispered in your ear, massaging your thighs and hips from where you were nestled in front of him between his legs.

Simon, who was lurking over the bath like some sort of spectre, nodded. "Such a good girl."

The praise made your body heat up, the steam curling up from the water suddenly scolding.

In the doorway, Johnny watched on with his phone in his hand. He asked you, "D'you want me to order some food?"

You nodded. "Can we please get–?"

He was already walking away. "I know your order, bonnie!"

You made a face at Simon. He shrugged.

Price, like Simon, stood at the edge of the bathtub. He looked down at you with adoration in his eyes

"You're just perfect, aren't you, sweetheart?" He said, and Simon and Gaz were agreeing with him before the sentence even registered in your head. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Our perfect girl, hm?"

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#141rugby!au #call of duty smut #141 x reader #captain john price smut #price cod #simon ghost riley smut #ghost cod #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz cod #call of duty #141 x you #captainfern

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peachesofteal · 3 months

Text

Sneak peek?

The throne room is silent. Darkness ebbs, inky webs slithering across the floor, shadowing the blood red stone that spills from the mouth of the dais, two identical, straight back chairs sitting proudly in the middle of the hall, dwarfed by columns stretching so tall Johnny swears they surpass the boundary of this realm. Their onyx marble shrouds Simon, who stands maskless, his hands clasped behind his back, peering into the pitch-black pool of liquid vibrating inside a silver bowl.

“Who is she?” There is a woman in the seeing glass. Beautiful, bright, an overflowing bouquet of narcissus, an endless melody of spring, the promise of early death. The greenhouse breathes in her presence, all nature of blooms and blossoms straining closer, desperate to be within fingertips reach. “A goddess?” He looks closer, and Simon’s amber laden eyes affix his, broad palm tenderly cupping Johnny’s cheek. His answer is a whisper, something unearthly and severe as they are: two Kings of the Underworld, two souls twisted together, two macabre fates made one. His words are a looming promise, a vow so ruinous Johnny knows the Moirai howl and the Lethe trembles.

“Our wife.”

#ghoap x reader #peaches writes #ghoap!hades

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kissesbyliz · 4 months

Text

meeting the 141 boys for the first time

these are cute individual scenarios that show how i think the reader would meet the boys!!

gn!reader

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, johnny "soap" mactavish)

GHOST

the first time you lay eyes on him would be in your new apartment complex. you would have been left to move your furniture all by yourself after your brothers, ever the immature dorks they were, ditched you to participate in some influencer's video who had been looking for volunteers in your area. "this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that will never happen again." they had told you grimly, before driving off and leaving you stranded with all your new furniture in front of the tall building.

it was early in the morning, the lights in the hallway shining in his eyes just a bit too harshly as simon exited his apartment. he was preparing to leave to pick up some groceries, having just ran out of his toothpaste. he grumbled, feeling a bad mood start to settle in him from the various inconveniences that had already managed to arise in his day.

that's when he saw you. his new next door neighbor, who was apparently in the process of transporting a large shelf towards their open door all by themselves. the size of the furniture compared to you was almost comical, and your effort in moving the heavy object showed in every laborious step. it was a ridiculous sight to see, and he couldn't help the snort that he let out. upon hearing the noise, you turn your head to look at him.

"hey, there." you call out to him with a weary smile. "mind giving a neighbor a hand?"

he has some time to spare, he decides, moving to easily pick up the end of the shelf that was dragging miserably on the floor. you peek your head out the side of the shelf to shoot him a toothy grin, quickly thanking him for his aid.

PRICE

you would first see john at a bar, where you were celebrating one of your friends' birthdays. the topic had shifted over to you, after you had reported that the blind date they set you up on the previous night had again went abhorrently. they defended themselves playfully, giggling about "how they were not going to let to you die alone, no matter what it takes."

you mournfully swirled the drink in your glass, shooting them all a lighthearted glare at their remark. you sighed, laying your chin on your hand as you took a moment to gaze around the bar. it was packed, as usual, full of laughter and music.

as your eyes skimmed over the room, they finally landed on a man who was sat at the bar, already peering at you. he was sporting a fleece lined coat with a beanie, beard trimmed neatly and in a way that complimented his features. he was undeniably attractive, exemplified by the way he shot you a charming smile and tilted his glass towards you in acknowledgement.

you gulped, suddenly feeling shy, and turned back towards your group. your friends, having witnessed the whole ordeal, shot you knowing looks, immediately egging you on to go talk to him! with laughter and playful pushes at your shoulder.

after an embarrassing moment of encouragement from your friends, you stood up, liquid courage burning in your veins. you moved over to his position, weaving through the people in your path. he smiled warmly to welcome you as you slid into the empty seat in front of him.

"hey." you started, giving him a sheepish grin.

GAZ

you met gaz on the street of a shopping plaza, an impressive amount of shopping bags grasped in your hands. they were all gifts for your younger cousins and other distant relatives, after your parents had reminded you sternly that you needed to get them each something for the holidays.

kyle was having himself a smoke, trying to get his mind off of his previous week. he was trying to stop for good, but this was the kind of day that just required a cigarette. the consequences of him and his task forces' actions, the gravity of them, was weighing especially heavily on his shoulders today.

all of a sudden, he heard a yelp, then the thud of multiple objects hitting on the floor. he glanced over to see you holding a now ripped open paper bag among your other shopping bags, with a multitude of small toys and figurines at your feet.

you were near tears in that moment, already fed up from the pressure of your parents now added with the embarrassment that came from the combination of laughter and pitiful glances passerbys shot your way. you crouched down and began picking the figurines up, reminding yourself gingerly in your head to take deep breaths.

pity instinctively squeezed his chest at the sight, your pretty eyes peering down at the toys dejectedly. kyle moved immediately, tossing his cigarette and squatting down, picking up the objects beside you. he gave you a sweet and reassuring smile, "bad day too, huh?"

"any chance i could buy you a drink to wipe that frown off your face?" he continued, standing back up with you. you can't help the genuine smile that stretches across your face at his proposal, your first smile of the day, shyly nodding with a small sniffle.

SOAP

you first came into contact with johnny at a fair in your town. the two friends you had came with left to ride one of the fair's intense rides, but you decided to stay behind to give your stomach a break from all the rides you all went on previously. tired of waiting on a bench for your companions, you decided to get up and browse the games the fair had to offer.

eventually, you come across a balloon popping game, which had the participants competing against each other to pop as many balloons as they could with mock rifles. you smile confidently as you walked over, recalling winning this game plenty of times in the past.

alright, a little competition can't hurt, you decide, making a show of cracking your knuckles and rolling your shoulders. the man beside you lets out a hearty laugh at your display, and you turn to face your opponent.

he was a tall man with a muscular build, a messily styled mohawk, and blue eyes that shined with a mischievous glint. he winked at you, meeting your gaze, "good luck. let's have some fun, yeah?"

"yeah, you'll need it." you retorted back playfully.

the game started, and you immediately took to shooting with your gun. to your surprise, most of the balloons on his side were promptly eliminated in quick succession and with pinpoint accuracy. you nervously shifted your attention back to your side of the game, where you managed to pop a mere six balloons, which was actually pretty damn good in your opinion.

your eye twitched slightly as you glanced back over to him, your ego bruised a bit. he shoots you a smug grin as he chose his prize; a giant stuffed german shepherd. he saunters over to you, gently booping your nose with the snout of the toy, before walking away. what the hell...

#simon riley x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #price x reader #call of duty drabble #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #call of duty fluff

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cod-fishing · 5 months

Text

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

#cod mwii #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod mw2 #ghoap #tf141 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #codmw2 #mywriting #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #captain john price #priceghost #pricesoap #pricesoapghost

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mistydeyes · 7 months

Note

smth abt your recent 141 post gave me a thought.

somebody need to get these boys into a club, flashing lights, music and dancing, fun drinks and flashy y2k reader who’s lowkey an absolute party animal?? or an ex party animal, teehee anyways,,

imagine how fun it’d be dragging johnny onto the dance floor, drunkenly screaming that “this is my FAVORITE song!!”

i just see fics of them at bars and i just need to see them up in a club😫😫

thank you so much for requesting! i LOVE drunken club energy so much (something about going to a club and drinking a weak rum and coke on a thirsty thursday really does it for me). this totally fit the vibe of a previous request so please enjoy a little cameo of the best 2000s aesthetic character, Storm!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 decides to allow you to pick the place for some drinks while on leave. You take the opportunity to get absolutely hammered and sing your heart out to some 2000s hits.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x reader (codename: Storm)

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"I thought they said we were going for drinks," Gaz shouted to Ghost over the loud 2000s dance music that blared on the dance floor. Gaz had found his way back to Price and Ghost after you had dragged him to the beats of Low by Flo Rida. After the chorus, you and your low-rise jeans and Harley Davis tiny top had disappeared with Soap in hand. He figured you would emerge eventually as he took a large gulp of his beer that appeared to be hot pink underneath the neon lights. "I am never letting Storm pick again," Ghost said and Gaz strained to hear him. But by the look of how drunk he was getting over the sugary drinks, it was clear Ghost was trying to make the most out of the experience.

"Here they come," Price yelled, almost as if he was delivering a warning, as you emerged from the crowd. Sweat coated your face and perfectly complicated the loose glitter from your makeup and the mingling crowd. Soap followed close behind, somehow losing his shirt after the three-minute song. "What happened out there?" Simon couldn't help but ask as you and Soap chugged the remainder of your dirty shirleys. "Met some Scousers," Soap breathlessly answered, "shirt went with 'em." The group laughed loudly as Soap fanned his sweating torso. "How'd you find this place, Storm?" Gaz asked, leaning forward closer to the group. "Went here a lot in sixth form and the summer before enlisting," you answered. You remembered the long nights and the hoarse voices you left with. You also remembered the paracetamol and glass of water affectionately left on your bedside table.

You continued to exchange wild stories about your drunken adventures including the time you threw up in someone's designer Juicy Couture bag. "And you still party like a teenager," Price couldn't help but tease as you threw your head back in laughter. "Don't see you complaining about all the compliments you've been getting, Captain," you quipped back. Almost on schedule, a young woman passed by the Captain and sent an air kiss his way with her glossed lips. You held your drink in the air and shared a toast with the group as you celebrated the woman's flirtations. Before Price could respond back, you could hear the beginning of your favorite early 2000s hits.

You jumped up, sloshing the drinks on the small metallic table. "Oh my god," you screamed, "this is my favorite song!" Unfortunately for Price and Soap, they were the nearest to you and your hands immediately began tugging them to the dance floor. Your sneakers squeaked against the floor as Soap relented but Price remained firmly in place. "I'm too old for this," Price said as he shook his head in dismay. "Whatever," you rolled your eyes, letting him fall back onto the plush couch, "but the next time there's a Britney song, I better see your boonie hat on the floor."

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lundenloves · 4 months

Note

Dad!simon on Christmas Day.

How’s he dealing with it

FESTIVE HEADCANNONS

this man treats this day like any other, always have and always will. he never had good experiences as a kid and in his adult life he was always asking to be deployed or on call by the base around this time.

he gets up early still, does the done and eats the stuff that the kids left out for santa while smoking a cigarette LMAO they’re def the family to leave a glass of whisky instead of milk too. dad’s law.

though he will never deny you of anything you wanna do for the kids. seeing that glint in your eye over how happy this season makes you, it’s almost healing for him in an indirect way he couldn’t describe.

so when you wake up and quietly come downstairs to find him aimlessly scrolling through the fucking news app on his phone while sat by the back step, you know his mind is preparing itself.

he insists he’s fine but the last three years in the morning solely he’s almost went through a whole 20 of cigarettes. even though it’s all planned out and he knows who what when where and why, there’s a general unease.

but when you go to wake the kids together, his mind sticks to the moment and for a few seconds there’s even a smile or two.

hanging by the doorframe while you wake up each one about how santa has been and their lil faces fucking LIGHT UPPP, jumping from the bed to tell dad too that santa has been. receiving a nod as if he didn’t trip up on presents while laying them with you last night.

he still doesn’t know what you bought though, watching pending transactions ping through his credit card with a squint.

he’s there watching the kids open things and genuinely getting a haul himself, giving a “let me see that” every now and then

he hates hosting. but hates going elsewhere. it’s like a migraine to get around every year between you. though, eventually settling on soap and his family coming round along with your own family.

and as soon as johnny is there with a loud bustle of noise and his kids who yell about what they got, asking simon’s daughters what they too got, he felt somewhat relaxed.

that’s his family in a way.

“alright big yin, what’d santa bring you this year, eh?” johnny’s opening line with a one armed hug as his other hand was holding a bag out toward you.

him and soap relax into one spot for the night and begin drinking. having it be your turn to chef up this year, him and johnny are responsible for watching the kids. not that they really ever did.

later though their youngest kids are knackered and end up sleeping on their chests, sat across the table from one another simon can’t help but deep it sometimes.

he’s around a table at christmas, with his fucking family and youngest child sleeping on his chest.

the world did not end when he was 16.

#simon ghost riley

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eilidh-eternal · 1 month

Note

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

Ohhhhhh I have SO MANY recommendations!

@yeyinde their entire masterlist. Absolutely transformative experience reading anything and everything Lev writes. I want to be her when I grow up

@groguspicklejar Chink In the Armor! Best medieval Ghoap AU I’ve ever read!!!! Mafia!141 is so deliciously angsty and she captures it soooo perfectly! Kelsi is absolutely my go to for any and all Kyle pretty boy Garrick reads!!!

@gemmahale Gemma my beloved🖤 everything she writes is literal treasure. Priceless. Deserving of a pretty glass case and soft leather bindings. There are worlds in her head I could not dream up in 100 lifetimes, and her OC’s are sooo complex and well rounded!

@peachesofteal once again, her entire masterlist. Everything she writes is guaranteed to leave me staring at the damn wall with the loading circle spinning on my forehead, wishing I could jump through my screen and live in the worlds she writes

@luminousbeings-crudematter Folie á Deux, Donner Party, and Land Softly are some of my favorites! I still need to work my way through the rest of Lumi’s masterlist😅 but the way she writes Simon 😳 my enclosure only has so many bars, I’m going to have to replace it soon

@391780 oh god too many to count! I looooove the way Early writes dark!141 and ALL of her stories highlight and praise big soft bodies🥰 she also does comic relief INSANELY well, and I just know anytime I sit down to read her fics I’m gonna have a good laugh (get wrecked König)

@moondirti I have just read the first part of Cabin fever and I am already IN LOVE with Dee and their writing style! Cannot wait to read more when I have the chance!

@ceilidho I was not a Price girly when I started getting into CoD, but Ceil’s take on him has irreversibly altered my brain chemistry🫠 and her characterization of a darker Simon?! Canon. She’s in charge now.

@auspicioustidings OH MY GOD!!!! Mhairi just started Ae Fond Kiss and I am so, so, sooooo in love with the concept for this fic! It’s already incredibly gut wrenching and I know I’m gonna be a sobbing mess throughout this series! Truly on the edge of my seat!!!

@pfhwrittes P has such a wrinkly brain! I’m absolutely in love with their Here Be Kink and Dealing Drugs and Feelings collections! Absolutely phenomenal writing! Everything they write is so dark, decadent and rich🤤

@kaadaaan Offer Me His Hunger is such a beautifully written descent into madness and obsession, and Vi does a truly immaculate job of portraying it! I chew on drywall thinking about this DAILY!!!!

@ohbo-ohno PUPPY! SOAP! Don’t Leave Me Locked In Your Heart was the beginning of a very transformative experience for me and with every new fic Bo writes I descend further into madness😵‍💫 I cannot unsee Soap with big puppy eyes and a pouty face and I think Bo should be on the writers team for his “surprise I’m not dead but guess what? I’m Very Fucked Up™️ now” story arc in MWIV bc that was not him in that tunnel

@glossysoap The go-to for any and all Captain related thoughts! Price and 09’ Soap can captain my ship anytime as long as it’s Glossy’s version🫡 Peppers is absolutely deserving of it’s namesake🥵

@charliemwrites never misses! All of her characterizations are spot-fucking-on and she has a wonderful selection of CoD characters that span multiple genres! I’m particularly in love with Woof Woof Johnny🥴 (nasty little freak🖤) and Fields of Elation

@vanderilnde RUGBY! PLAYER! SOAP! He’s dirty and nasty and pervy and pathetic!!!! What more could you want from a man like him? And the way Orion writes him…… CHEWING ON GLASS! I love when soap is a pathetic little whore and Orion NAILED IT!!!

@the-californicationist Oooohhhhh Guile and Guilt was one of the first CoD fics I ever read and it lives in my head 24/7, even when Johnny is whispering Nasty™️ ideas in my ear. The story, the poetry, the characterizations…. IT’S LITERAL PERFECTION!!!!

#eilidh’s asks #author recs #fic recs

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partycatty · 3 months

Note

I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~

Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕

i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation

johnny cage > call me

johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early

warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE

notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?

masterlist

• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.

• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.

• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.

• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.

• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.

• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.

• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.

• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.

• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.

• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.

• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.

• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.

• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.

• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.

• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.

• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.

• call me. please.

• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.

• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.

• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.

• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.

• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."

• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."

• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.

• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."

• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.

• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.

• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."

• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"

• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."

• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.

• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.

• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.

• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"

• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.

• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.

• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 x reader #mortal kombat 11 #johnny cage mk11 #marley writes ☆

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elexaria · 2 months

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What if the reader actually acts nice to simon?

Like when she gets flowers or a gift to johnny she gets simon one too. When she cooks she makes him food too. Or like buys them expensive things.

OR gets jealous of him with johnny. Like when a girl flirts with simon the reader glares at the girl with johnny and genuanly(idk how to spell it😭) loves and cares for him bo matter how much he pushes her around?

this is exactly how i imagine it!

you have absolutely no idea why you care about a man like simon riley. despite him pushing you away, you can’t help but dote on the miserable bastard.

you know almost everything there is to know about him. you know he doesn’t like cheese, so you’ll always ask the pizza restaurant to only put a SMALL amount of cheese on his pizza. you’ve noticed that because of his autism, he has a couple of tics that tend to get triggered when he’s feeling uncomfortable. you know him like the back of your hand, and it’s something he’s yet to realise.

johnny comes home early one day, absolutely raging. you pour him a glass of whiskey, taking a seat next to him on the sofa as he begins to rant and rave about some blonde bimbo that was practically glued to simon’s hip at some event that the task force were at. “och, an’ bloody si just stood there like some pollock. can ye believe it?!” johnny scoffs, crossing his arms with a huff. you bite the inside of your lip, feeling a strange pang of emotion upon hearing that.

“well… what did he look like? when she was flirting with him, i mean—“ you ask, reaching over to take a swig of whiskey, eyes scrunching up at the taste. johnny leans back against the sofa and looks up at the ceiling when he thinks back on the interaction, huffing like a child again. “he was all blinky n’ shite. reckon he was trynae wink or summet.” he mumbles, thick black eyebrows furrowed as he glances over at you.

with a sigh of relief, you can’t help and chuckle. “you’ve never noticed that simon tics when he’s nervous? he wasn’t trying to wink, johnny. he was twitching.”

johnny’s eyebrows arch thoughtfully, a pink flush on his stubbled cheeks. “oh.” is all he can say, surprised that he’s never noticed this in all the years he’s known simon. and when you start to giggle at johnny’s jealousy, he boyishly grins and rolls his eyes. “och, whatever! come here.” he teases, hands finding their way to the small of your waist as he pulls you into his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you giggle and playfully protest <3

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap x reader #poly!ghoap #soap x reader

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