Tumgik
#141 x you
the-witheredroses · 2 days
Text
Pt. 2
TW: angst/comfort, reader cries a little and is mentioned to have been in therapy
<< Previous | Next>>
The silence was agonizing. The air felt drowning and heavy. It didn’t help that no one could look at each other.
Soap and you have migrated to the couch after realizing that the conversation probably should be had while sitting.
How are any of you meant to address any of this?
Each of you knew just enough to fill in the blanks, but how is-
“So…” Johnny broke the silence and your train of thought. “How do you all know each other?”
“Really, Soap? That’s how you want to start this?” Gaz remarked, letting his grievance show.
“Aye! How else ye expect this to go?! How ye think I feel knowin’ ye’ve shagged my lass?”
“Jesus Christ…” you groan as you hide behind your hands.
“Not everyone-“ Simon murmured leaning back in with his arms crossed.
“Simon!” You exclaim, revealing your warmed cheeks to everyone.
“Well with the way ye look at ‘er I would’ve guessed otherwise-“
“Okay- no, that’s it-“ you stand in front of them all, pointing as you addressed each. “You- Simon, are meant to be dead, I went to your funeral. Fucks sake, I visit those graves everytime I drive past them!”
Simon couldn’t stand to defend himself, because he knew that already. He’d seen you talking to his and his family’s graves every now and then when he went to see them himself. It had torn him apart to not reveal he was alive, but he’d convinced himself it was for your sake. Even if that meant you’d shed more tears.
“You pushed me away for months before ultimately saying that you needed to move for work, that you couldn’t be with me anymore-“ your eyes still held the hurt from long ago as you gazed at Kyle.
“It wasn’t a complete lie…” Kyle scratched at his head, his poor attempt to redeem himself falling flat.
“Shut it, Garrick. You-“ your finger landed on Price, “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? I assume you’ve been back for a while, so why didn’t you say anything?”
John knew he had no excuse, so he didn’t attempt to deny his reasoning. “Though’ ye might’ve been with yer other man…”
A hefty exhale escapes you as you hold back from saying more. You could slap him, because how, after all this time, does he not see himself as enough? Instead, your gaze landed on Johnny.
“And you, Johnny, you didn’t really do anything, but still, this could’ve never happened if you or John just told me who else was on the team.”
“Or told us who ye were dating.” Kyle muttering was directed to Johnny, but it earned side eye from you.
“Moral of the story,” you continued, “all of you have been keeping things from me. And now we’re here… and I don’t know what to do or say…” your voice broke a little from the festering emotions. Everyone was quick to their feet to comfort you, John worming his way to the front.
“Aye, lass, there’s no need to cry. We just need to talk this out.” John’s hands cupped your cheeks as the tears threatened to spill. “Maybe we should take a break, take a breather. Later, we can talk one on one with you and each other.”
You nod as you try to calm yourself, doing the short breathing exercises you learned from therapy.
John placed a soft kiss to your forehead before being pushed aside by Johnny. His arms quickly envelop you and he kisses your temple.
“Common lass, let’s get ye out of here for a bit…” Johnny whispered and pulled you into the bedroom, leaving the other men standing in a circle, stuck their own thoughts…
————
Idk what to call this series so feel free to leave some suggestions!
Also didn’t want to make this series too angsty, but reader is definitely gonna need some one-on-one time with each of the boys…
120 notes · View notes
shmalk · 2 months
Text
ghost has no idea what to make of you. you show up out of nowhere, barely a day after price announces that they have an extra addition on their team for the next mission, and then you show up.
you're nothing like them - you probably haven't seen a man get shot, never felt your bones break and have to set them yourself in a fight. he has this sick fantasy of breaking you, wiping that stupid smile off your face and watching you crumple as he breaks your spine with one hand.
soap loves having you on base, you're good with a gun and you'll joke with him about almost anything - sure, you never come out to the pub with them, but whenever they come back to base you've cooked something and that's better than any pint of beer johnny's ever had.
he's worried, he thinks you wont make it out there - beside them. you're small, and not in the sense that you're short, in the sense that there's barely anything to you, nothing to grab if you trip in the middle of active fire.
gaz is just finally glad to have someone else to talk to, to complain about soap and ghost to, rant about how price pissed him off. you're always willing to talk, which is probably a good thing.
he always turns down his radio whenever you're on a mission together, he doesn't want to hear you die, or hear your voice trail off as you get caught. he has to bite his knuckle whenever you speak out of fear.
price is sick of it, sick of watching the boys play with you like a doll and then sit you delicately back on the shelf, so he takes matters into his own hands and shoots you between the eyes.
you sit up four minutes later.
Tumblr media
ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
i just rlly like the idea of immortal!reader but the guys have no idea and suspect nothing until they get shot in the head and then just,,, get back up !
4K notes · View notes
jumbojazzcats93 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
How Embarrassing... - Ghost
Summary - Ghost's pride is at risk for a little satisfaction.
Tags/Mentions - Banner by @/saradika-graphics, MDNI 18+, smut, gn!reader, sub/dom dynamics, maybe a little forceful? But not really, surprise, embarrassment @glossysoap @divine--serenity @lordlydragon @violet-phantoms @quietlyignoringyou
(I've apparently violated community guidelines with this, so I changed the gif in hopes that that's what was the issue)
Tumblr media
Ghost never wanted to face you during sex. Never wanted you to see his face or eyes because it was too telling. It would be a blow to his pride for you to see the dazed and desperate look in his eyes when he only wanted you to know the large and in charge side of him in bed. Doggy style was standard. When you were on top he always made you reverse it, any position like missionary or lotus and he would hold your body so close that you couldn't see his face. When fucking you from behind he would throw his head back with furrowed brows and tightly shut eyes. Biting his lip and opening his eyes, he would loll his head to the side to look down at you and whimper so softly you couldn't hear it over your own noises. If he let's you on top, it has to be reverse cowgirl. He'll have one hand gripping your hip and the other arm slung over his face while tears sting his eyes from how good it feels when you ride him.
Ghost would have to hold his breathe when initially sliding his cock into you so as not to whimper at the feeling. He would choke down most moans and try so hard to be quiet. On the rare occasion he does let a loud enough sound slip out, he would lightly chuckle " -fuuck", as a way to cover it up. If you ever tried to look back at him fucking you, he would gently grab the back if your neck and press his thumb or finger against your jaw to keep your face forward. If you tried to pull away to look at him, he would tighten the arm wrapped around your waist while the other hand would fly up, tangling into the hair on the nape of your neck and gently but firmly holding your head where it is.
It would be so embarrassing for you to see him so needy, but he knows you're becoming recklessly desperate to see his face when he fucks you. You try to be sly and initiate things randomly or hold your place instead of letting him force you to hide your face in his shoulder or neck, but it's like you know when he's about to move. You shift or adjust to counteract his grip or his reach. One day of indulging you just a little bit and it almost changes the whole dynamic in Ghosts mind. He finally agreed to kiss you during sex as long as your eyes stay closed, but he didn't know you had a whole plan.
He has you sat on his lap with your legs circling his waist, one hand on the back of his neck and the other cupping his jaw while you kiss him. He has no idea you can tell when he's about to cum, but he's panting in your mouth as you ride him and you can feel the muscles of his stomach tightening the closer he gets. His intention is to do what he always does; bury your face into his neck as he cums, but you're not feeling so compliant today. You unsuspectingly slide your hands to his shoulders and without warning push him down onto his back. He let's out a surprised grunt as his back hits the mattress and you tuck your knees against his sides, pressing your palms against the front of his shoulders to hold him down. You know he could flip you over, but you're hoping he's too stunned by your sudden defiance to react in time. "Love, what-", you quickly start bouncing on his cock again feeling his heart pounding through his whole body and for the first time ever, he let's out a barely contained moan. "Hnnnmm, Y/N-", his hands wrap around your forearms, but you suddenly lean forward and give him a sloppy open mouthed kiss. He moans again and his cock twitches inside you, "Y/N, please-" he whines desperately between your feverish kisses. "I'm-", you kiss him again and he whimpers. You pull back and see the prettiest expression on his face as you feel his cock start twitching. His eyebrows are drawn tight above hazy, fluttering doe eyes that are staring right into yours. His swollen, wet lips are slightly open as he pants and whines. You sit up and readjust your hands to rest on his chest for more support and his hips buck up involuntarily as he let's out a long, deep moan. "Please keep going.", he begs. "Please, please, please, please don't stop." He let's out a loud moan as he cums inside you, cock pulsing as you ride him through his orgasm. He looks so good like this; flushed skin sweating as he bucks involuntarily. Eyes glassy as you overstimulate him just a little, just to see more of that desperate expression. His hot cum feels so good that you almost want to force another load out of him, but you slide off of his cock and lean forward again to give him one last sloppy kiss. You run your fingers through the hair on the sides of his head and silently comfort him through his burning embarrassment. You kiss the corner of his mouth, across his cheek, under his ear and down his neck before gently kissing his lips.
He could see the new glint in your eyes, just under the look of adoration painted on your face, that told him he was going to have to fight off these little tricks a lot more now.
3K notes · View notes
lxvvie · 2 months
Note
I’m just gonna slide this over to ya’
Being passed around the 141 like a damn joint, the boys having a little ‘contest’ about who’s the best pussy eater and who can make you cum the most…
That’s all…😳🥰🥵
Mmm, and the way they eat is quite reflective of their personalities.
Price is methodical, engaging with your senses. He drags your moans out, he makes your thighs quiver with every brush of his beard against your skin; the Cap'n makes it a long and drawn-out process. It isn't so much a numbers game with him as much as it is making your orgasm memorable.
Gaz is similar but there's a sensuality and playfulness there that isn't so much emphasized with Price. He teases you with a gentle kiss. He sucks and licks your clit so tenderly, and when you pull away, overstimulated, he'll playfully nip your inner thigh. Behave, darling. He worships you. ❤️
There's something to be said about Soap's style. It's... frenzied. Energetic. Exploratory. He wants to taste every corner of your cunt, bonnie. He wants to know what makes you whimper, what makes you scream his name, what makes you cum. By the time he's finished with you, Soap would know everything.
Ghost is... primal. Needy. All's fair in love and war, luv, and best believe Simon would pull out all the stops to make you cum. Fingers, lips, tongue, you fuckin' name it, he'll use it. Wants you sitting on his face, wants you to feel the bristle of his stubble and the way his fingers dig into your hips to hold you still. Wants his tongue buried deep. Wants your juices coating his face. He wants to consume you and be consumed by you in turn. Consequences, sweetheart.
1K notes · View notes
lunarw0rks · 2 months
Text
────141 headcanons: touching the belly────
Tumblr media
a/n: y'all know i'm a sucker for the the pregs trope so i had to do this request. and i only did the four dinguses for this one, sorry anon ☺️
warning(s): pregnancy, fluff+angst, invasion of reader's personal space/privacy, protectiveness, hurt/comfort?, afab!reader
‧˚₊ MAIN MASTERLIST ⟢ 141 MASTERLIST ‧₊˚⊹
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
๋࣭ ⭑ PRICE
⌞one of the perks of being married to john is being supported. quite literally the definition of it, in every form. that goes for your baby too, no questions asked. he's more akin to simon in being traditional while you're expecting. wants you home, resting and not lifting a finger.
he's very particular about who he lets close to you, more than ever now. it makes sense considering his work and the general fragility of a new family. in the same way as kyle, he's constantly stressed. wants everything to be perfect for you and soon to be little one.
always has his eye on you, just like he does all his men. there's nothing he doesn't see or already knows about. honestly, may even spot a bad apple before you do. won't even bother with politeness and will shoo them away before their hand(s) even make contact with your tummy.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ SIMON
⌞ he was already protective enough before you got pregnant, but he's at a whole new level now. practically a full-time security guard by the time you reach your third trimester. ESPECIALLY when you two find yourselves out and about — which isn't often.
on the off chance that you're at some sort of gathering with simon, he's at your side no matter what. eyeing every person who approaches you, only chiming in when spoken to, out of mere courtesy. as soon as you give him any inkling of discomfort, he's asking you if he should go start the car.
one thing he hasn't gotten used to yet is the touching. how people often belaud pregnant women. cross boundaries constantly to get a feel of them and their bellies. it's already hard enough getting the man to relax, but it's hopeless now with all the new people he "needs" to keep an eye on. it's not a matter of him catching someone touching your belly; he'll already be standing there most likely. glares, huffs, will certainly go as far as removing their hand if it lingers long enough.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ SOAP
⌞doesn't see any point in excluding you from functions if you think you can handle them. loves having you on his lap or right beside him when he's out, even in pregnancy. as long as you're comfortable and able to signal to him when you're too tired or need something — he's just happy you're there.
most of all, johnny is fiercely protective of the bump. more than he is of you (which is nearly unfathomable, i know). and if there's one thing he loves more than you — it's gushing about you to anyone who'll listen. so, initially, he might not notice someone making you tense while amid his blabbing.
but after so long with him, you've learned to accept the flattery for what it is and remember how easy it is for him to get distracted. a firm squeeze to his hand or a tug to his jacket will do the trick. but once realizes what's happening, he's on it (with his new Dad Speed). finds a way to distract the person and slip you the car keys. promises he'll be out in two minutes to drive you home — and he always is.⌝
๋࣭ ⭑ GAZ
⌞ even though he'd prefer you bundled up in bed and waiting for him, kyle still enjoys doing things with you. he definitely gives a wider berth than the other guys, but he's just as vigilant (if not more). he's more subtle about it, if anything.
it isn't just you to protect anymore, it's you and his baby. so, forgive the man for his pinched brows and clenched fists, he's reverted into nothing but a ball of anxiety the further the months progress.
doesn't mind people having a feel of you, usually, when they only mean well (it's typically older ladies anyhow). but sometimes it's a more unsavory interaction; someone who isn't taking any hints, who can't bear to leave the two of you alone. on one hand, gaz understands — an expectant, attractive couple out on a wholesome shopping trip is bound to lure attention. he takes a slower approach, less hostile to avoid upsetting you anyone. brushes it off with an excuse; "oh, love, you got that appointment today, right? don't wanna be late." and then makes his exit, a guiding hand around your waist.⌝
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
eilidh-eternal · 4 months
Text
Ok, I need to get into a fluffy mindset to write for Johnny and Simon so here’s some poly!bluecollar!141
Contractor 141 with reader who’s hired them to do the renovations on your house/business and you insist on bringing the guys like, drinks and sandwich platters each time you drop by to check on the progress. The whole thing is terribly behind schedule because every time you stop by with little gifts for the crew they ask if you wanna learn how to level concrete, how to frame a wall, how to dry wall. You always say yes, always want to learn a new skill to make yourself more marketable. And they love the excuse to be a little touchy with you, to stand chest to back with you and show you how to use the table saw, to keep a steadying hand on the small of your back when you climb up the ladder to mud the drywall after it’s been hung.
The sight of you, this white collar worker who never has a hair out of place, is always so perfectly put together and speaks to them with the confidence of every project manager they’ve ever worked with, is getting down and dirty with them and using all the power tools so confidently, and it just gets them all so fucking hard…
you guys know where this is going. The build is a good 6 months behind schedule, maybe a year, because your original design plans aren’t big enough for you and the four of them.
The shower definitely needs expanding and you need a much bigger bathtub—they’re big guys, love. And the fridge you picked out? Forget it, you’re gonna need a commercial grade fridge and freezer to keep enough food on hand for your big hard working boys. But don’t worry, John will have custom cabinetry done so you can still get that integrated look with all the appliances. Simon goes with you to pick out the bed and furniture because poor baby has the worst back out of all of them and needs an extra firm mattress, and he’s the tallest and you would feel just awful if things aren’t big enough for him. Gaz and Soap both go with you to pick out paint colors, counter tops, all the different tile and flooring, and all the pretty detailed things, taking notes and making sure that they have or can get their hands on all the tools and materials necessary to bring your vision to life.
And you best believe all four of them are carrying you across the threshold when it’s done, that they’ve had everything all assembled and put together and ready for you to christen every surface, every piece of furniture, in your new house with your boys.
1K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 2 months
Text
Thinking about the 141 with a reader who's just... a creature.
Going to sketchy, creepy places is part of the job, something they've grown used to throughout the years, yet they never expected to bring something back with them in one of their missions.
Your cackle rings around the room, watching in pure amusement as the men trip on the wet mess of ectoplasm you purposely left on the floor, Simon almost losing his balance and grumbling out a ''grow up'' with a scoff.
He regrets his words it the moment he hears bones crackling from behind him, a much taller figure peering down at him with wide, dark eyes, forcing every single hair on his body to stand up straight.
862 notes · View notes
briefalpacashark · 2 months
Text
~The drink~
Tumblr media
Warning: mention of date rape drugs. Spiking of drinks. Involuntary drug consumption.
Can be triggering for anyone who had experienced anything similar.
================================================
You didn't drink much. You had your own reasons, but every now and then you would let loose. You had headed to the bar you and the 141 usually frequented, only to find that there seemed to be an event on. A bass boosting, strobe and glow lights club event. It was fuller than it usually was and with it being the only bar for miles around; it was packed. Price and Ghost didn't seem pleased with it, but Jonny and Gaz didn't mind. As you filed into the bar, the smell of sweat and drinks filled your nose. 
“Y/N!” two girls stumbled out of the crowd, practically crashing you in a hug. Other medics from the base, the ones you would call friends. There was Rosie, a gorgeous blond and Anna, the embodiment of an African Queen.
“SORRY WERE STEALING HER!” Even though the music was loud, their yell seemed louder as they practically dragged you away. You mouthed a quick apology to the guys who waved you off and moved to their regular spot. After a lot of pleading, begging and water works, the girls managed to convince you to have a few drinks. 
You were having a good time. Dancing, if you could call it that. You were just practically jumping up and down constantly. You had had three drinks, nothing too strong and nothing that would have you feeling the way you did.
Your sight was fuzzy.
Your limbs felt heavy.
The music sounded dull, and the lights started to move on their own. 
You had been drugged. A sensation you were sadly familiar with. 
“I need to go!” It was a panic that had the words forced from your throat. Only your friends were basically blind drunk. They barely heard your words. 
When did it happen? You had kept an eye on your drink. You never left it unattended. Hell you even held it in a way that you hand covered most of the top at all times. Your breath caught in your throat as someone bumped into you, shoving you away from your friends. You searched for them when you recovered, only having to hold your head as it started to spin. 
The boys.
Drink in hand you stumbled through the bodies breathing a sigh of relief as you made it out of the mosh pit. Finally able to get proper air into your lungs, your vision cleared slightly. You spotted the lads all focused on a tv screen that was playing the latest match. You practically fell into the table, the force almost knocking a few of their drinks over. You felt extremely drunk.
“Whoah!” Jonny exclaimed quickly, catching his drink as they all flinched at your sudden appearance.
“Shit sorry,” you mumbled, pushing yourself up into a standing position relying heavily on the table in front of you. You looked absolutely wasted. 
“Went a bit hard on the drinks, eh?” Price asked with a bemused smile.
“Though Australians were supposed to be good at holding their liquor,” Gaz said, earning a few laughs. You forced a nervous laugh of your own.
“You alright love?” It was Ghost that asked the question. When the boys gave him confused looks at the level of concern in his voice he simply nodded down to your hands that shook, even while they tightly gripped the table. “My uh, my drinks been spiked,” you whispered. The atmosphere did a one sixty all the boys expression suddenly turning dark. Their bodies tensed, their jaws locked as anger flared inside them. 
“The fuck?” Jonny hissed as his eyes instantly searched for the culprit.
“Sure you're not just drunk love?” Price asked. It wasn't like he didn't believe you. It was just his stupide logical captain brain. You raised your head, your fearful expression giving him all the answers he needed.
“No, I've uh, I've been spiked before. This is different, though. It's not something normal, this guy knows what he's doing,” you whispered. Jonny stood, reaching for you to offer support or comfort. He froze as you flinched away. An action all the boys took note off.
“I'm calling the police,” Gaz announced, holding his phone to his ear. 
“Come on love, let's get you out of here,” Jonny suggested gently.
“No, if I leave, he'll just do it to the next girl. We, we gotta catch him,” you muttered.
“You're in no state, love,” Jonny tried to reason with you.
“Don't baby me. I know what I can handle. What I'm going to do it I'm gonna go sit at the bar. Whoever drugged me will be looking for the opportunity to get me out of here. When he comes for me, then you guys get him alright. Restrain him till the cops come ok,” even in your state, your firm words had the boys considering them. You were right. Logically, it was the best way to draw the creep out.
“You see, who did it, love?” Price asked. You shock your head. 
“Are you sure you're ready to do this?” Ghost asked. His steady concerned gaze that locked with yours's had your breathing returning to normal. His big brown eyes anchoring you.
“I trust you guys,” you stated simply, as if it was to answer. Giving them a nod you turned on your heal and stumbled over to the bar on the far side using the furniture to aid you. When you did manage to sit down, the panic started to creep back up. It was just the drug, you tried to convince yourself. You had been in plenty more sticky situations. In unison the boys fanned out, all keeping an eye on you as they took different positions around the room. Gaz by the door, ready for the police. Price a few seats down from you and Jonny hanging around. You didn't know where Ghost was, probably hiding in the shadows somewhere. Your head dropped to the cold slightly sticky surface of the bar as you were hit with another dizzy spell.
“There you are, sweetheart,” the sickly sweet voice slid over your ears sending a disgusted shiver through your body. A voice you had never heard before. “Come on, let's get you home,” his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, but you just felt so sluggish. Your elbow attempted a weak push. Before he could pull you out of your chair, his presence suddenly disappeared. It was a bit of a blur at that stage. You could hear sounds, a scream somewhere. You heard yelling. 
“TAKE IT OUTSIDE!” The Bar owner screamed over you. 
“Gladly,” It was Ghost voice that sounded. You pushed yourself up, turning around to see Ghost pulling a man out of the bar by the scruff of his collar. 
“Lovey, it's me Jonny,” Jonny announced his presence as he walked up to your side with Gaz in tow. After your flinch before he was being extra cautious.
“Jonny,” you forced a smile as you turned to him. When he suddenly turned into triplets.
“Come on love,” he gently helped you out of the chair tucking you protectively under his arm, and out into the cold air of the night. It was refreshing to have it in your lungs. But it stung.
Jonny helped you to a bench, setting you down. The world was spinning. With a deep breath, you dropped your head to your hands. After a bit Ghost and Price returned with the man, his arms zipped tied behind his back, his face bloody and beaten. One of his arms hung limply at the shoulder joint. Price had found the drugs he had used in his pocket shoving a few down his throat for good measure. 
“It's him alright. Confused and everything," Price announced holding the drugs up. 
“Hell yeah. Vigilante team for the win!” you wobbly pumped your fist into the air before letting it drop.
“I'm cold,” you muttered through a shiver. Almost instantly a large coat was draped over you. The scent of Ghost filled your senses as you tucked yourself into the folds of the warmth.
“Fuckin cunt,” Jonny growled in disgust as he pulled the man ruffly over to the side of the road delivering a kick for good measure. Gaz glared down at the man logging a ball of spit directly to his feet. 
“Hey,” you rose your head coming face to face with a kneeling Ghost. who placed a gentle hand on your knee his thumb rubbing it gently.
“You need to chuck ya guts. Get whatever's in ya stomach out,” he stated simply. 
“Shit, you're right. Let me just press the button that instantly activated my regurgitation feature,” although drugged out of your mind you still quipped at them. If anything, it was reassuring to hear it. 
“I can shove my fingers down your throat if ya like,” he offered jokingly.
“Promise?” The boys' eyes widened at the seductive tone your voice took. It even stuck poor Simon into a monetary freeze. Only then did they notice the blush that dusted your cheeks. Molly you thought. Something the man probably mixed with his drug.
“Oh don't get your panties in a twist Lieutenant. Just get me some tequila. A shot of that and you'll all get a pretty picture of what I had for lunch,” You chuckled half assed. Gaz quickly did as he was told. Boy you didn't even have to taste it to chuck your guts. 
Why? Simple. Schoolies, yourself, teenage confidence, a dumb bet and a bottle of tequila. You couldn't drink the stuff without emptying your guts.
Ghost patted your back as you fertilized the pot plant nearby. You briefly took in the blue and red flashing lights as the police pulled up. It was quite a scene. Your head in a pot plant. Ghost holding your hair back. Jonny and Price standing side by side with the man hung loosely between them. Gaz standing by you with a water bottle at the ready. The police officers, one male and one female approached your group with caution. 
“Officer. This guy drugged and attempted to take advantage of our friend there. Here is the drink that was spiked. The drugs we found in his pocket. And the camera footage proving he did so,” Price handed over all the items that had quickly been collected. The police officer stood taking it all, looking over the group before his eyes dropped to the man.
“The fuck happened to him?” he asked.
“We found him like that,” Price stated with an innocent smile, not bothering to hide the blood on his hand. Jonny smiled innocently and Ghost simply glared, daring the police to do something about it.
“Alright well put him in the back, is she alright to come down to the station to provide a statement?” His question was answered by the lovely melody of your insides becoming your outsides.
“Don't think that's necessary. But we can come down tomorrow to provide a blood sample for proof," Price suggested. 
“How do we know you're not the ones who drugged her?” You were grateful for the female officer's concern. But you just wanted to go home.
“Don't accuse them. These,” you pushed yourself up, gesturing wildly around you. “These are my boys. I love these fuckers.” Your words began to slur as you blinked one eye a bit more delayed than the other. You leaned against the pot putting the other hand on your hip. 
“I'd trust these cunts with my life,” you stated proudly.
“Aw she called us cunts,” Jonny cooed as he ruffly shoved the man into the back of the police car. “Accidental” knocking him harshly against the side of the door a few times.
You weren't sure how you got into the back of the car, but you did know one thing. You were fucking horney. Your eyes lazily trailed over the handsome men in the car. Your heart was beating a million beats per second as you weighed your options. Have you thought about fucking them before. Who wouldn't. They were stunning all in their own unique way. Heat was flushing all through your body. Your eyes trailed to Simon who sat next to you.
‘Fuck, I’d ride that man like a bronco,’ the dirty thought had your face turning compltley red. You couldn't believe you had just thought that. You wanted him. And by the way your body was feeling you were sure you were about to act on that want.
“Nope not doing this,” you suddenly announced. Yells of fright sounded as you opened the door, throwing yourself from the relatively slow moving car. You were back on the base you gathered. But nowhere near your barracks. You tucked and rolled with the fall popping back up immediately and high tailing it out of there. The four guys ran after you. As they rounded a building they frowned when they couldn't see you. What they did see was your shirt gently falling to the ground. Their eyes instantly snapped up to the roof of the building where you stood.
“The fuck,”Jonny wispered as they all stepped back to better see you. 
“How do she mange to climb all this shit?” Gaz asked searching for the path you used to get to the roof.
“Get down from there, sergeant!” Price ordered. 
“Fuck you Price!” You yelled pulling a boot off and chucking casually off the side of the building. 
“What are you doing?!” Gaz yelled.
“What does it look like? I'm undressing. It's to fucking hot!” You yelled unbuttoning your pants. For the record, it wasn't hot. It was cold. So cold that the boys could see their breaths. You just hoped that getting your temperature under control would dull the urges you were having.
“What are you doing up there? Get down come on it's not safe love!” Jonny tried to coax you down, all of them too scared to take their eyes off you in the fear that you would fall.
“Not safe for me. Bro I was just about to attack you guys,” you yelled, stomping out of your pants the boys sucking in a breath as you tilted to the side a bit more than they liked.
“What you mean love?” Price asked nodding Ghost forward who quickly made his way to look for a way up onto the roof.
“That fucker must have lased that shit with ecstasy. Cause in simple term Captain, I'm HORNEY AS FUCK!” you yelled into the open night air. All the boys paused momentarily at your words wondering if they had heard you right.
“Horney you say?” Johnny asked with a slight smirk. It was a terrible situation, no one would argue that. But the way you were acting was slightly entertaining.
“Yep!” you popped the p. 
“I was sitting in the car and I was like fuck. I could totally fuck these guys,” your shrugged casually. 
“Really?” Johnny asked.
“Oh yeah. I would have made my way thought you fuckers like a cougar that just came out of prison. I'd start with Price, cause that man knows how to fuck. Like he's probably got some real fucking skill. Just look at him,” You gestured to Price who blushed slightly at the statement.
“Then I go to Gaz. I dont know why but you look like youve got some fucking endurance,” you stated simply. 
“Id fuck Jonnys brains out cause we all know he can’t get a girl to save his life,” You had begun rambling. The boys were doing there best to keep their laughter in. Even though  you were talking about something so intimate they knew it would never happen. 
“I got with your friend Rosie didn't I?” Jonny asked.
“Yeah and so did half the fucking base. I would seriously consider getting all that checked out,” you gestured to his manly parts as Gaz laughed at his dead panned expression. 
“Oh and Simon!” You let out a low whistle.
“I'd take that poor man's innocence,” This time both Jonny and Gaz were full blown laughing. Price rubbed his mouth hiding a chuckle. And Simon, well he stepped up behind you. You didn't notice him. What you did notice was how constricting your bra felt.
“Fucking hate bras,” You muttered in once swift motion unclipping it and tossing it to the side.
“Fucking hell,” Price grumbled as they all quickly avoided there gaze. 
“Right,” you hear the mutter from behind you as you were suddenly enveloped by material. Simon used his jaket that you had discarded early to form a makeshift straight jacket. Which in three swift movements, he zipped up behind you and tired the sleeves around you. You let out a yelp as you were casually thrown over his shoulder. 
“I'm getting too old for this,” Price muttered.
After they got you checked out at the med bay they brought you back to the barracks. Simon was carrying you bridal style as you dropped in and out of sleep. Gently they set you in your bed and tucked you in still in the makeshift straight jacket. You snuggled into the warmth curling up.
“Night love,” Jonny muttered as they all moved to leave your room.
“Hey,” your back was facing towards them as they stopped at the entrance of your room. “I love you guys. You know that right?” you asked.
“Yeah we love you to lass,” Jonny smiled.
“I mean it,” you cut off his slightly joking tone. “Tonight I was really fucking scared. And you guys saved me. So thank you,” you whispered. The boys were not really sure how to respond to that. 
“Anytime love,” Price muttered.
“Good,” you nodded readjusting.
“Oh and Simon,” you called in a sing-song voice. He hummed a response.
“Offer still stands hot stuff,” you poked your head up giving him what you assumed was a seductive wink. It looked more like you were trying to get something out of your eyes.
“Sure thing love. Well, see if you remember your offer in the morning,” he stated simply shoving the chuckle Jonny out the room before closing the door. Even drugged to kingdom come you felt safe. Protected, so calm that you slipped into slumber without a second thought or a moment's worry. 
The next morning you awoke with not a single memory of the night before. You frowned at the pounding in your head, yet your confusion deepened when you tried to make sense of what you were wearing. The binds had come lose burning the night leaving you with the jacket still zipped up behind you. You could only remember the very start of the night. And the fact that your drink had been spiked. Once you managed to escape the contraption you donned some loose clothes and walked out into the rec room. Where the boys were all situated, Simon cooking breakfast, Gaz and Soap sitting watching tv and Pierce at the table reading a newspaper. At your appearance they boys all stopped what they were going and looked at you. There expression unreadable.
“Soooo,” You trailed off. “My drink got spiked,” you stated simply.
“That's Correct,” Price nodded, folding his newspaper and putting it aside.
“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.
“Honestly not the worst hang over I've had,” you tried to make light of the situation with a soft-hearted chuckle.
“So, uh what happened exactly? I didn't do anything stupide did I?” you asked nervously. 
“Well,” Jonny began, only to be silenced by a wooden spoon hitting him with deadly precision.
“You came to us, asking for help. We got the guy and got you out of there. Brought you back to base where the docs checked you out, flushed the drugs out ya system the best they could and we tucked you into bed,” Price explained simply. 
“I see. And why was I nude and buried in a huge ass jacket?” you asked a deep blush creeping up into your cheeks. Millions of scenarios passed through your mind. So many possibilities that could have led you up to that point. 
“You had nicked Simon's jumper. You were moving around a bit last night from what we could hear. The doc said the drug would make you hot. Perhaps you just stripped in ya sleep,” Price gentle words gave you no reason to believe anything other than that happened. But there was a slight doubt in the back of your mind. You looked to Simon who had yet to meet your gaze. 
“So I didn't go streaking through base?” you asked. 
“Like streaking do ya?” Jonny asked with a wag of his eyebrows.
“Sober Y/N not so much. Blind drunk Y/N very much so,” you nodded. The boys chuckled, shaking their heads. If only you knew.
“Your fine love. Come sit down and eat something,” Price ordered you softly as Ghost set down the various foods. The breakfast was like any other one. The boys talked like they normally did. Once you got over the slight embarrassment of what happened, you fell back into a normal rhythm. 
Not before Price personally called you into his office to have a very serious chat about what happened. Where he suggested a visit to a syce and an offer to come to him if your ever needed anything.
Not before Jonny gifted you with a key ring taser and a graphic demonstration of where to aim for.
Not before Gaz bought you a nail polish that would change color whenever it came into contact with drugs.
Not before Ghost would sit beside you in silence his presence simply being a reassurance.
Not before the boys never pressed you again to drink when you said no.
Not before they got a glimpse into a very serious part of a woman's world.
Not before they grasped and understanding for it.
And not before they would watch your drinks like eagles whenever you would go out again. 
The most amazing thing about it was that they never once blamed you for it. The thought never crossed their minds. They never once pried if you had left your drink alone. They never once suggested that you took a drink a stranger had offered.
They were good men. And you were thankful that you had them in your life.
And little did you know that the man that drugged you would send the rest of his life in prison. Price managed to pull a few strings and get him charged with much more than he had originally done.
After he spent a month in intensive recovery.
================================================
--COD Master List Here--
================================================
732 notes · View notes
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 month
Text
[Some Thoughts about Demon!TF141] (F!reader in next chapter)
you are a normal human living in a magic world, but you summon 4 demons when you’re doodling and accidentally draw a special magic circle.
Ghost, who lives in your shadow, often scares you when he reaches his hand out from the shadow without warning, but always catches you when you’re gonna fall.
Soap, who can shift into a larger form with sharp fangs and nails, having legs similar to animals, and need to be soothed after shifting and hunting due to bloodlust.
Gaz, who can gain energy by triggering others' sexual desire, his voice is sweet and able to seduce people when he uses his power, making their knees wobble.
and Price, their leader, can hypnotize others by staring at their eye, the smoke he spits out can make others fall asleep instantly.
They refuse to leave your house and now you are forced to live with four demons that always scare others off when going out with you, and always insist on sleeping on your bed because you’re warm and demos' body temperature are low. They will protect you till the end of your life, but when you die, your soul will become Price’s, and he might put your soul into a human-size doll? or change you into a demon just like them.
Reader becomes a doll (F!Reader)
Reader becomes a demon (F!Reader)
721 notes · View notes
konigsblog · 2 months
Note
pov: ur tied up under the table in the rec room, ring gag forcing your mouth open as you’re forced to suck some serious cock for whoever sits in the chair aka simon riley while your drooling cunt remains untouched
cw: afab!f!reader
even better if you're blindfolded and the men are increasingly rougher each time...
perhaps, you'll start off with gaz, who'll ignore the sounds of your mumbled cries, keeping your head down against his base while rocking his hips against your face, driving himself further and deeper down your unused throat. seeing your mouth so wide open is heavenly, and leaves his stiff length leaking like a faucet, laughing as he taunts you.
that sweet, lazy and relaxed voice leaves you with a prominent smile on your face, quickly wiped off by johnny who slaps your cheeks and guides your head to his weeping shaft. he's tougher on you; causing you to gag and sniffle, heaving through breaths with your tears soaken by the blindfold. seeing you with the ring gag leaves his boner throbbing and painful, the sight of you with your mouth forced open, lips swollen and glossy, and your cheeks wet...
price isn't even gentler, and you're dreading the thickness of his hard, meaty cock in your mouth. you know what john's like; he'll pinch your nose and restrict your breathing to ‘test your stamina and endurance’, leaving you dizzy and light-headed, unable to focus or mutter a coherent word. the sound of simon's voice is the distance taunting you for crying so much causes your pussy to squeeze around nothing, words stifled and mumbled, with cum dripping off your tongue.
simon goes last, mainly because he wants to take his sweet time using that throat. when he slides inside, it's as if he stole the wind from your lungs, already causing you to puff out your nose as he sinks even further down your throat. silenced cries are addictive to simon, who will cock his head to the side in a teasing manner, adoring the sight of you like this; obedient, and taking whatever you're given.
you choke and gurgle around simon, becoming a pathetic and messy girl as he throat fucks you and grinds even further down your throat. the lengthiness of his musky dick causes you to gag repeatedly, the sloppy noises of your drool and spit leaving simon chuckling hoarsely, shaking his head at the sight of you; weeping. your cunt drools all over the cold floor leaving a sticky patch on the ground, your wet heat sticky and your thighs caked in arousal. you gasp as he slaps your cheek painfully and brutally, with his other hand gripping your throat firmly to restrict your breathing and to hold your head in place between his large, strong thighs.
“c’mon, girly... chokin’ on my cock, such a filthy baby.” those words leave your clit and folds swollen with touch, panting and heaving as he fucks himself down your throat, balls slapping and smacking against your chin ‘til your face is covered in drool and layers of cum, releasing his hot release down your throat, running down your mouth as you whine out in pain, pussy untouched and ignored, your orgasm causing your body to jerk and twist.
looking so used on your knees in front of him.
744 notes · View notes
kittsch · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
ranking cod boys' intimacy style from gentle to rough feat: 141 + los vaqueros + others reader: afab, implied different readers for each cw: explicit smut, kink, fluff, pretty tame imo but lmk if you'd like something tagged NSFW BELOW CUT * MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
1.) the gentlest, surprisingly, is ghost. make no mistake, he'll absolutely fuck the daylights out of you if you ask him to -- would enjoy it, too. but as simon riley... honestly, this man is touch-starved and nearing forty. he is tired, baby. coming home from deployment, first thing simon does is shower (knows you hate the smell of war on him), then take a fat nap with you. if you're in the middle of something, no you're not. he'll literally scoop you up and fireman-carry you to the couch or bed, whichever is closest. simon loves holding you, wants to be touching you all. the. time. his favorite way to nap is wrapped around you like a fitted sheet; skin on skin, nose in your hair as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. loves it even more when, later, he gets to wake you with soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck; the flat of his palm sliding down the gentle swell of your tummy, cuping you through your sleep shorts. simon likes you best like this. how you just... melt into him, still sleep-sodden and docile. it's one of the few things that feels right in his life. chemically, cosmically, karmically (somehow--simon doesn't think he'll ever feel like he earned this. you. that he'll ever really deserve to be yours). he takes his time; fucks you slow with his fingers, savoring your muted whimpers as he grinds into your clit with the heel of his hand. to simon, watching you come apart in the firm circle of his arms is kin to a fresco on a ceiling; a sliver of the divine, and he, a sinner, doomed to watch heaven from afar. but by some small miracle, you offer him salvation. when you cum, it's with his name on your lips, so round and lush with love, and fuck--if that isn't the thing to save him, then nothing will.
2.) second is rudy. sweet, sweet boy. he sees you barefoot in a sundress one time. one. that's all it takes to precipitously shift the trajectory of his life to one where he wifes you up and makes you a mother, in that order. you're the first person he's ever envisioned having children with -- the only one he thinks knows will be worth risking everything for. and once that mental picture settles in his mind, it’s all he can think of. it becomes his sole mission to get you under him and fill you with him til it takes. rudy is a missionary guy through and through--wants to see that pretty face, cariño so he can watch your cheeks and chest flush when you're about to cum. and the cute way your lashes flutter ("como alles de pollila, mi amor. fuck--") as he bottoms out in your sweet pussy, stretching you so good. and you're always so good for him -- wrapping your legs around his waist and tilting your hips to take him deeper, deeper. but god help you when he succeeds in knocking you up, you’re never getting a moment alone. consider rudy glued to your side for the foreseeable future. can’t seem to keep his goddamn hands to himself, either. doesn't matter that you’re uncomfortable and prickly and prone to random bouts of inconsolable crying at the worst moments. he takes it all in stride. his love is steady, solid. once, you blurt out something to the effect of i'm never going to be attractive again, my body is gonna be ruined by the end of this. and rudy (after a beat) laughs. pulls you forward til your face is buried in his chest, cradles you there when you try to squirm away. tells you he's literally so attracted to you right now he feels like he should be on some sort of list. he's watching you build a new human being inside your body. you're fucking powerful. he can't imagine anything sexier.
3.) next up is könig. from jump, he adores you; the way you smolder at the edges, the unwavering bite of your tone. kleine katze, such pretty claws you have... and he's perfectly content to settle for admiring you from afar; but where others shy from him instinctually, finding his size and perpetual quiet off-putting, you don't. seem to gravitate towards him because of it. you touch him with a gentleness that should feel foreign, but actually feels like home. this man is fucking gone for you. loves you in a way that irreparably and fundamentally changes him. may or may not have cum more than once to the thought of you: hips bucking desperately into the clench of his own fist. but he knows precisely nichts about romance, even less about flirting. has no idea you've been trying to get his attention for months. ultimately, you have to make the first move. and you do--crawling into his lap one night in a grimy off-grid safehouse after a mission went the wrong kind of sideways. when you draw up the mask he goes rigid, tense; but he almost lost you today. (thought for one endless, horrific moment that he had.) so he lets you pull back the mask--lets you see his face. and when you finally kiss him, it pulls a kind of sound out of him the likes of which he's never made before. a desperate, animal keen that claws at the walls of his chest. and könig's a gentle giant, but he is giant. you're both too hasty the first time; too desperate for closeness to prep properly, so it hurts when he bullies his cock inside you. he's significantly bigger than any of your previous partners -- twice as thick and several inches longer -- and by all rights shouldn't fucking fit inside you, but you're both tenacious enough to make it work. könig is certain salvation resides in the gummy clutch of your cunt when you take him to the hilt; shuddering as you cum around him from nothing but the way his cock stuffs you full and the pressure of his calloused thumb on your clit. it's so unbelievably hot, he cums on the spot; not needing friction or movement when he has you clenching down on him like that, scheiße. after, he takes care of you--holds you close to his chest til your breath evens out and you slip into the dreamless, black pool of sleeping.
4.) alejandro, my love. truly a man of passion. it's a long process seducing you, and he enjoys every minute of it. loves finding new ways to get you to blush almost as much as he enjoys fucking you til you're blubbering and cock-stupid. almost. he likes the idea of having a family with you, but is less pernicious about it than rudy. he knows how he feels about you; is confident it'll happen someday. that said, this man's breeding kink knows no bounds. the mating press was built for him; the perfect mix of intimacy and intensity, where he can look you in the eye as he ruts you so deep you can feel him in your fucking throat. also the most likely to suggest expanding your sexual horizons. frankly, alejandro is bisexual as fuck. loves the idea of you getting railed by another man (perhaps rudy, winkwonk) while he watches; loves the idea of you taking the both of them at once even more, but it's always about you. your comfort and pleasure is paramount, and he'll go to unfathomable lengths to make sure your needs are met. happy wife, happy life, he says, hauling you into a deep kiss when you point out that you're not technically married, yet.
5.) alex is the perfect equilibrium of rough and gentle. initially respects you as a colleague, maybe a friendly acquaintance. internally, he finds your competence and no bullshit attitude deeply attractive, but he's a consummate professional; would never put you into a position where you'd feel unsafe (outside of the obvious dangerous shit you already do). and then--he sees you shoot a gun. the way your body slides liquid-smooth into weaver, the easy roll back into isosceles in the recoil... it gets him so fucking hard so fucking quick. he has to physically remove himself from the range and rub one out in a bathroom stall, images of those firm hands pumping his weeping cock pulling him over the edge. images that don't fade, to his chagrin, even after the initial arousal is dealt with. every time he sees you, it just... pops back up, so to speak. he keeps it locked down as best he can, but fails pretty comprehensively at doing so. alex finally breaks after catching one too many recruits staring after you when you walk away (fuckin' animals--only he's allowed to do that). he seeks you out when you're both off the clock and ends up fucking you on top of one of the washing machines in the base's communal laundry room. the epitome of soft dom, comes pre-programmed with an obligatory daddy kink that you absolutely abuse to get your way. takes you out to nice restaurants seemingly for the express purpose of fucking you in the fancy-schmanzy bathroom. honest-to-god almost passes out when you choke on his cock for the first time; begs like his life is on the line for you to do it again, please, please--oh, fuck baby, yes. that experience reveals two truths to him: one, that he might be a switch, and two, that he might just have to marry you.
6.) now, keegan is a pretty tough nut to crack. it's hard to read him initially, even without the mask--but once you pick up on his tells, he's an open book. and that book wants you upended on the couch within seconds of you both entering the room. initially its just sex; a shared need to vent some frustration and stress. keegan is very private, mostly due to social discomfort and introverted tendencies. in the early days of your relationship, it manifests as him keeping you at a distance. for the first few months, he only ever kisses you when he's balls deep, and leaves after a five-minute come down. you rectify this through sheer persistence and charm. it's clear to you (far sooner than it is to him) that he's weakest to you when you give him big, sweet doe eyes and ask real pretty. this little trick works particularly well when you're riding him slow over the course of an hour, grinding down each time he bottoms out, til he's shuddering and begging you to please go faster--ah. f-fuckin' hell, kid, you're so tight, so good, fuck. when he cums, it's with a crackling whine of your name that pulls the knot of heat in your belly, sending you over after him. then, exhausted and fucked out, he falls asleep with you in his arms. he's still there the next morning when you wake, expression open and lax as he watches you wake. it's the first time you see keegan without reservations, when you realize he's got a gentleness to him--a kind of poet's sensitivity meant for libraries, museum archives, and the kinder side of nature. all overwritten by force to survive, to complete his mission. once you've seen the cracks in his mask, there's no going back for either of you. very quickly, your relationship shifts from distant and transactional to deeply personal; a tenderness blooming in the same garden as the newfound dedication to one another. keegan doesn't say I love you for a long time, but you know he does--you feel it in the way his dark eyes find you in a crowd, always seeking your familiar shape. you feel it in the way he presses your bodies flush from tip to tail while he's fucking you, when being inside of you isn't close enough. you feel it when he, for the very first time, asks you quietly if you'll stay the night with him, because he sleeps easier when you're there. so you stay--the night, and all those that follow.
7.) oh, gaz. such a mischievous little shit. your friend from your training days, you two scrap like puppies over anything and everything. banter is the cornerstone of your relationship, one-upping being a close second. you delight and infuriate one another in equal measure, bickering amongst yourselves til one of you takes a swing at the other. price has reprimanded you both multiple times for horsing around, but you're never in any real danger--you work too well together. there's a kind of shared consciousness between you; a base-level understanding, two wolves hunting in tandem. still, ghost refuses to let either of you sit together on the heli; not since that one time your game of grabass devolved into full-on grappling on the tarmac. ultimately, one of your little tiffs goes too far; ends with you both laid out on a training mat, groaning into each other's mouth as you grind your hips together through your clothes. you both pretend it didn't happen for maybe a week--then it happens again. and again. and again. being 'together' is never something you actually discuss with kyle. it just... happens. much to the chagrin of your lt and captain, the bickering actually increases when you two get together; becomes more like foreplay you can get away with doing in front of your superiors. and if this man isn't an absolute goddamn menace when it comes to exhibitionism. when he wants you, doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a meeting. fuck it--it's happening, and it's happening now. very playful in and out of the bedroom, likes teasing you in every sense of the word. he edges you so long sometimes you nearly kick him in the head when he finally lets you cum. there's my girl--oh shi--ah, haah, good fuckin' girl. he's largely aloof when it comes to his emotions--not the best at verbalizing how he's feeling or what he needs. so instead, he shows you. he shows up every. single. time. kyle's your friend before he's your lover; your partner in (war) crime(s). he's always got your six, you've always got his, and what is love if not someone who'd die (and live) for you?
8.) soap proudly describes himself as a pleasure dom, which is mostly true. but he's got serious switch potential. which you know for a fact because fuckin' hell, does that boy whimper somethin' pretty when you throat him juuuuust right. he's such a 'tits' man, it's crazy. loves to hold you close, feel your breasts smashed against his chest while he drives deep into the tight clutch of your cunt. but most of all, soap loves being on his knees for you. this man definitely moans while he eats you out, tonguing your pussy like it's a mouth. he feels big in every sense of the word--in sex, in love, in anger. and make no mistake, he loves you deeply. you two have some serious yelling matches, storm about slamming doors til the neighbors threaten to call the feds, but it's just your way. you're both headstrong and stupid; arguments are bound to happen, and any unresolved hurt feelings get a solid patch-job from the frankly earth shattering makeup sex that follows. like rudy, soap wants a big family with you, and he knew early. actually doesn't tell you just how early til years down the line. how after your first official date, he called his ma and asked if she'd send his nan's ring, please? because he's pretty sure he just met his future wife. said ring which glitters on your hand now, as you reach over and flick his forehead teasingly. tell him he can stop trying to romance you, you're already married. and could he grab more diapers on his way home from work?
9.) as are all things with graves, your sexual relationship is about power. he's an asshole in the worst way--condescending, smug, underhanded, sneaky in his sexism so you always look like some hysterical woman when you retaliate. the kicker? it turns you on as much as it pisses you off. he's happy to string you along, work you into a lather just to leave you high and dry. lord help you once he gets a taste of you--bending you over his desk and cramming you full of his cock with precisely zero prep. he kisses you, loves you, fucks you like he hates you. because he kind of does--he just wants you more. graves loves it when you cry, wipes your tears with his thumb before forcing it into your mouth. coos when you offer your neck up to him--yeah? want my hands on ya that bad, sugar? gonna be a good girl for me, hm? fuck yeah you are--and proceeds to make you cum so hard you black out. your 'relationship' (which it is; ring on your finger a year in, a little one on your hip not long after) is intense. toxic. would be just downright miserable if it wasn't so fucking hot. you cling to each other with gouging force; a livid-blue kind of love, painful and permanent. he carries a picture of you in his wallet: a small polaroid of you in your wedding dress, ashing a cigarette with one hand while the other flips the cameraman (him) the bird.
10.) and the roughest of them all: price wants more than to love or fuck you -- he wants to possess you. he's so tightly controlled everywhere else in his life (has to be for his work), doesn't seem the type to lose his head over a bird. but when he meets you, something shifts. you're soft. impossibly good. flippant and stubborn as a mule, sure -- you drive him up the fuckin' wall with your headstrong antics. (so goddamn petulant. so sure you're fuckin' right.) but war and death hasn't stained your world, left your indomitable spirit unsullied and intact. which, unfortunately, means you haven't gotten a thorough education on the importance of discipline. price wants to consume your disobedience; crack your rose-tinted glasses under his heel, roll the ambrosia of you in his cupped tongue. he'll do more than make you fall in line -- he'll make you want to do it. it's really just a matter of time before he acts on it. when he does, it's decisive. unsubtle. he crowds you up against the door of your flat on a sticky summer night, brandy on your breath. sinks a hand into your hair, holds you steady as he brings your mouths together with bruising intensity. he fucks you before he ever makes love to you; sinks his teeth into the velvet of your shoulder as he crushes you flat to the tabletop using just his bodyweight. snarls low when you keen wordlessly, overwhelmed and empty-headed at the deep burn-sting of his cock stretching your pretty little cunt, the lewd slap of his thighs against your ass. he batters you til you're not sure what's sweat and what's tears; til your skin bears a mural to his cacoethes, all blue and purple like a deep west sunrise. til there's not a person alive who won't be able to see you're his. always have been, always will, right dove? go on--tell him. tell him who this pussy belongs to.
written by kittsch, do not repost. not to be used for bots nor AI of any kind.
759 notes · View notes
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•
Tumblr media
•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•
645 notes · View notes
the-witheredroses · 22 days
Text
Imagine: insecure/worried!Price x Reader (& more)
TW: minor hurt/future comfort(?), sleep deprived ramble
Next>>
Price always worried about letting you in too close. His job is dangerous, and his life is always at risk. John felt guilty imagining you waiting for him, only for him to never return back to you.
It didn’t help that you had just broken up with your last boyfriend, someone you, admittedly, thought you were going to marry. John didn’t want to risk you being emotionally wrecked again so soon.
He never wants to lose you, and at the time, he fully believed knew he loved you. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so he made a fail safe.
With some thorough convincing, your relationship opens- but only on your side. John encourages you to get another boyfriend, much to your initial dismay. It’s not because he wants to share you, but because he doesn’t want to risk you being left alone.
The two of you never discuss your other relationship, and when he has free time, the two of you spend every moment together. But sometimes his work is overbearing, so he doesn’t tell you to come over.
He spends the night alone, because to him, a night of just sleeping next to each other isn’t good enough for you. You deserve better.
It hurts feeling like he isn’t enough, or fearing you’ll be in pain at his expense. He loves you and wants you to be happy.
You always tried to tell him he was enough, that you loved him, but he never fully listened.
At least if you’ll have someone to comfort you in case he dies, right?
——
Soap had called the team over for a housewarming party after moving into his new place. His bonnie thing was set to show up soon, and he couldn’t stop ranting about her (he hasn’t stopped vaguely bragging about her since they got together).
John wasn’t too focused, instead thinking about when he should tell you he’s back in town- it had been awhile since he saw you.
Maybe if he asked you to move in, the two of you could transition into a relationship where he felt confident he was enough for—
Your voice breaks him from his thoughts as he hears you greet Johnny. And the moment you turned the corner, his heart stopped.
His lass, the one he encouraged to date another, was also with his teammate.
Johnny was introducing you to the team as you and John locked eyes; the dots formed and connected instantly, and the panic settled in.
What were you two to do? Lie and pretend to not know each other? How could you pretend not to know the person you were in love with?
“But ‘imma steal ‘er from him. Make ‘im realize his mistake lettin’ ‘is bird roam the city unattended.” Johnny joked as he finished explaining the circumstances of your relationship. How you two were committed, but how you also had a loser (Johnny’s words) boyfriend who wanted an open relationship.
As Johnny continued to talk about the two of you, he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. But so were you and Price…
Gaz stared at you, wondering how his ex girlfriend -the one he regretted ever leaving, the one he still loved, the one he wanted to marry- was there.
His heart was on the ground being stepped on. All his regret was tripling down as he saw his teammate holding you so lovingly, the way he wished he still could.
It was selfish to want you back, even years after the break up. But he couldn’t help wanting his soulmate back. And it was his fault for pushing you away…
When you finally broke your gaze with Price, you unintentionally met the wide-eyed gaze of Gaz- and you felt like throwing up.
Your two boyfriends and now your ex too??
But you hadn’t even noticed him yet.
Ghosts eyes landed on you in silence the moment you walked in. It took him a minute to even process how you were there.
“Lass…” Simon spoke in a tone only you were familiar with, making everyone else go silent and turn to him.
“Simon..?” Your voice was quiet and shaky as you realized immediately who he was.
The mask hid him at first, but you knew the voice of your long-lost friend. Your childhood best friend, your childhood crush.
The same one who “died” before either of you could confess to each other…
How could these men all be in the same room? It was like ghosts of the past, present, future, and the dead were haunting you.
“So… I guess introductions aren’t needed…” Soap realized as everyone stared at you.
————
Sorry if this sucks. I’m ignoring my endless pile of wips and writing this at 2 am
And I may expand upon it…
It would 100% devolve into poly!141 x reader btw
327 notes · View notes
rascal-xo · 1 year
Text
How They React to Gossip | 141 + Rudy + Alejandro |
Warnings: None
Tags: @whirly-birbs @fiveshelmet @madamemelancholysstuff
A/N: For those who requested something and didn’t get a response, i’ll be getting those works posted soon :)
————————————————————————————
Tumblr media
~ Ghost ~
- Definitely knows about it before anyone else but won’t ever bring it up. (Bro always sees and hears everything about everyone)
- Will act like he doesn’t care, but still is listening to every word
- Will suddenly go “Fucking hell.” and then realize he actually said it out loud when everyone pauses and turns to look at him.
- Will 100% be smirking under his mask when somethings funny but won’t laugh out loud. (Resting Ghost Face and all, gotta keep up the rep)
- Will give the most dangerous fucking side eye when someone says something horrendously out of pocket
- Will definitely zone out if he gets bored
Tumblr media
~ Price ~
- Is just passing by the break room when he overhears something out of the ordinary and has to do a double take to walk back towards the group and make sure he heard it correctly
- Will either be the moral compass of the gossip session or will go full out with his own insults
- Stands there with his arms crossed and eyes squinted slightly listening to the words coming from his team.
- Will say something like “We’re soldiers, not desperate housewives.” But will later laugh to himself thinking about the wild accusations and drama.
- Definitely gossips with Laswell on the downlow
Tumblr media
~ Gaz ~
- Enjoys every second of pure steaming gossip, especially if it’s coming from his Soap
- Will subtly pry for more information but when Soap teases him about it he’ll be like “Alright you can piss off, I don’t even wanna know now.”
- Won’t even hide the fact he wants to laugh, will be close to doubling over in hysterics if it gets to be that crazy
- *High pitched british shock*
Tumblr media
~ SOAP ~
- Bro cant contain himself when it comes to juicy drama in the workplace
- He’s here for the tea, ALL the tea
- Is 10000% the one who started spreading the gossip in the first place.
- Will talk everyone’s ear off about who he saw with who the other day and what not
- Don’t get him started cause he won’t stop
- ends every gossip session lowkey leaving everyone stunned and wanting to hear more
Tumblr media
~ Alejandro ~
- takes in any and all gossip in stride and fires off MANY witty remarks about it
- He enjoys poking fun at others jokingly. it’s apart of his charm (duh)
- Will be be doubling over in hysterical laughter, probably bringing Rudy or Soap down with him
- If the gossip is about Valeria, bro will NOT hold back. Shots upon shots will be fired do not get him started
Tumblr media
~ Rudy ~
- Doesn’t add to the gossip, but enjoys every second of hearing his teammates losing their minds over juicy drama they’ve heard
- Will be laughing along with Alejandro but will say “Dios mío, It’s not funny, we shouldn’t be laughing!”
- Stands back with his eyes open wide in shock and red in the face from what he’s hearing
- The out of pocket things that come from Alejandro’s mouth about Valeria definitely keep this poor man up at night
Tumblr media
** BONUS ** GRAVES
- is the gossip.
1K notes · View notes
Text
The Window (4 of 5)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 --- AO3 Link
Seeing him again had been a shock. They’d arrived late — not that you were checking on their flight or anything — and they were all a bit worse for wear. Usually, after any mission, good or bad, the flight home was cathartic. Everyone could breathe easy. They were going home to good food and infinite WiFi. It was cause for celebration, no matter how beaten and bruised they felt. But, this time was different.
Price was walking through the hangar while you were cataloging ammunition shipments, lowly desk work while your leg healed up, and he looked so small. Well, he still towered over all of the other soldiers in the bay - except for Ghost - but he just looked so pale and listless. His eyes were dull, staring at the ground, watching his feet take their steps, aimlessly driven to his next destination. 
Ghost followed him, equally distracted. His mask was off, and you could see his eye-black smeared all the way down to his mouth, like he’d been rubbing his face, fretting. Gaz had looked furious. He was tossing their gear like it had personally offended him, and he railed into one of the trainees for getting in his way. His warm brown eyes had turned cold and harsh, unfeeling. 
Soap was the worst. He jumped from the chopper and immediately started to scan the room, looking for you. He pulled one of the mechanics aside and you heard him asking for you by name, and as the man pointed in your direction, you hid behind the crates. Undeterred, he headed your way, so you crawled into the dark space between where he wouldn’t find you. He searched and searched, pushing aside heavy boxes and truck wheels, hunting for you. He became frantic, pacing back and forth, until Price called his name. His eyes lingered on the darkness where you were hidden, looking but not seeing. Then, glassy-eyed, he retreated, his gaze turning from desperation to unbridled frustration. 
It was when you’d been trying to sneak back to the barracks that Price had found you, chasing you through the base. You weren’t running, per se, but you were moving quick enough, and you had quite the head start. He, however, was sprinting, pushing people out of his way, calling after you. When he saw the look on your face, he knew he was in trouble. 
“Get back here, Sparrow! That’s an order,” he shouted down the hall. 
You turned around to face him, throwing up your hands in an exaggerated shrug,
“You’re not my CO, sir.”
“Spar — Get out of the bloody way!” He shoved a trainee into the wall, pushing past him in an attempt to follow you to your room. 
Price was panting, his chest heaving as he grabbed for you, his hands sinking into your soft flesh. You wrenched your body away from him and blocked him from coming into your room. He furrowed his brow and said,
“It’s Sunday. It’s my day.”
“I’m already pregnant. Your services are no longer needed,” you spat, “Much like mine, apparently.”
You tried to shut the door on him, but he blocked it with his huge shoulders, looking at you with a ravenous hunger in his eyes,
“I just got back from the fuckin’ sandbox. We can fight later, but I need you, little bird. Please.”
“And I need you to go fuck yourself… sir.” You slammed the door so hard that you thought you broke the hinges. 
You listened to the handle jiggle in the lock from Price’s audacity. Then, silence. 
Why was it the silence that hurt the worst?
Soap was at your door that night, banging on it, shaking the frame,
“Bonnie! I ken you’re in there. Lemme in. I jus’ wanna talk to you. Bonnie?”
Silence again, and then there was a slow, wiping sound against the door, like a big palm being slid down it. 
“Sparrow? Please.” His voice was so strange. It seemed small. Usually, Soap was the loudest, the most boisterous. And now, he sounded ill. 
You listened at the door, hurt and angry, but missing your men. Hearing Johnny beg was almost enough to make you unlock it. Almost.
Over the next week, they all tried to get back in your good graces. Gaz brought you flowers no matter where you were. He covered your desk with them, and you kept throwing them out or giving them away. He left them outside your door, sitting in the hall, complete with little handwritten cards: 
I’m so sorry, baby. Please text me? - G.
Come to the main hall? We just need to talk. - G.
You ripped his notes up and tossed them in the trashcan irreverently. 
Johnny had been a little less subtle. At the end of a long day, he’d be waiting outside your door, sometimes alone, sometimes with the others, trying to get you to listen to him, 
“C’mon, bonnie. Dinnae shut us out. Please, lass.”
You had become an expert at the cold shoulder. 
Ghost, fitting with his quiet demeanor, wouldn’t beg. In fact, he wouldn’t say a word. But, he followed you everywhere, haunting your office, stalking you at the gym, sitting at your table during briefings. One time, he cornered you in the elevator, riding with you past his own floor, his eyes burning into your skin. 
And then there was Price. Other than his presentations during mission briefings, you hadn’t heard his voice since that very first day. But, he was always around. His smoke gave him away. Your room reeked of his tobacco, and when you were working, you’d smell it in the air. But, when you’d look up to spot him, he was nowhere to be found. 
That didn’t mean he failed to reach out to you. He was always on your phone. He called you every morning when he woke up, and he called again every night when you went to bed. You never picked up, but as you lay in bed watching his smiling face pop up on your home screen again, this time, you did.
You didn’t say hello. You just waited to hear what he had to say. You needed to hear him again. Anything. Just a hello. 
“Sparrow, it was me. It wasn’t them. You have to forgive them. I was the one who —”
You hung up the phone and cried into your pillow hard enough to make yourself sick. 
After that night, things got so much worse. Your emotions were raw, and everything made you terribly sad. Your body was in desperate need of someone to care for it, and your hormones were going absolutely haywire. You were either nauseated or horny, and there was no warning which would hit at any given moment. 
You found yourself sneaking out of work early, hiding in the shower, furiously coming on your hand over and over, thinking - wishing - that it was Soap's or Gaz's mouth instead. When you lay in bed at night, you desperately ground your hips into your dildo, riding it like you wanted to ride John and his men, wanton and soaking your sheets.
Eventually, you had reached your limit, and you met Soap, Gaz, and Ghost in the mess hall. They were all sufficiently apologetic, and they were curious as to what had changed your mind.
“Dinnae get me wrong, lass. It’s been hard without you, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… why are you forgivin’ us?”
“Price told me what he did. He said it wasn’t your decision to take me off the team.”
“That’s not true,” Ghost refuted, earning himself a swift nudge from Soap and a glare from Gaz. 
“Shut up, mate. Do y’know how long it’s been since —” Gaz hissed, but Ghost interrupted him.
“The captain was the one who fought to keep you on the task force. He was out-voted.”
“Out-voted? There’s only four of you. Should’ve been at draw…” you observed.
“Exactly. We all voted against him. You’ve no bloody business on the field right now, and you know it. You can barely sit here with us for ten goddamn minutes before you’re sprintin’ off to wretch in whatever can’s the closest.”
You averted your eyes from him, trying to process what he was saying, and feeling the sting of shame when you had to admit that he was right. This first trimester had been an absolute nightmare. You were a sweaty, puking mess here in the offices, and you shuddered to think of feeling this way out in the Urzikstani sands, getting shot at, eating nothing but MREs and instant decaf coffee. 
“We just wanted the best for you, birdie,” Gaz reached out for your hand and held it in his, “We know how badly you want this baby, and we…” He looked at the others for a moment and said, “And we’ve fallen in love with you, Sparrow. We can’t lose you. Let us take care of you.”
You were so tired, and you needed to release the tension you’d been holding inside of your chest, so you relented. 
They followed you back to your room and sat you on the bed, kissing you so deeply that you could feel their hunger. They’d been waiting for you. 
All of them were dripping with precome, and you watched as it stained the thick canvas fabric of their pants, making you wonder if they’d even touched themselves in the time they were apart from you. 
They began to strip themselves and you, kissing every bit of your skin, leaving purple marks from their aggressive desire. Gaz held your hand to his crotch and rubbed it across the front, making you feel his hardening rod, encouraging you to stroke him. Johnny was busying himself with your pants, aching to put his mouth on your molten core, and just the thought of his tongue was enough to make you shiver. 
Ghost bent to suck at your nipples, peeling your shirt and bra off in one go, and you held his head, cradling him with as much affection as you could muster, but as you looked up at you, he knew there was something wrong. 
“Hey, stop.”
The others, as if burned, immediately stopped their worship of your body and looked up at you. 
Ghost continued to pry,
“What is it, love?”
“I just…” You could feel yourself start to cry. 
“You miss him, don’t you?”
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You may have forgiven Simon, Johnny, and Kyle, but you missed John. You needed him there. Without him, even their kisses felt hollow. 
“We’ll bring him back to you, dinnae fash, hen,” Soap reassured you, throwing on his shirt. 
“C’mon, he’s in the gym. I saw him with his bag,” Ghost followed Soap out of your door, hard as a stone and trying to adjust himself to something a little less indecent. 
Gaz kissed your lips, his full mouth warm and tasting of cinnamon sugar,
“Be right back, pretty girl.”
You waited five minutes, then ten. You decided to lay down, just for a moment, and before you knew it, you were out. 
You weren’t sure how long you slept, but you woke up in someone’s arms, opening your eyes and watching as he lay you in the big, combined bed the five of you shared. You turned to see his face when you felt him crawl into the sheets beside you, blinking the sleep away and trying to catch your bearings. 
“John?” You croaked, struggling to find your voice. 
“Shh,” he whispered, “Go back to sleep, little bird.”
“They told me…”
“I know. They bloody well shouldn’t have. You need them. You’re both going to need them.”
“I can’t be mad anymore, John. I’m so tired. I just want you all back. Please,” you clutched at his chest, drawing him closer to you in the small bed, “Don’t leave me again.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Sparrow. Here. Feel?”
John’s huge cock was half-hard, and he fit it inside you, slipping it into your wet pussy, squeezing himself through you, just as he loved to do, letting you warm him up. The shock of it went right to your head, and you gasped, hiding your face in the fur of his chest, letting his arms wrap around you protectively. 
“I’ll stay right here, birdie. As long as you want me to.”
“Aye,” Soap’s voice spoke up in the darkness, deep and low, “We all will. Tha’s a promise, lass.”
One by one, each of your men came back into the bed, laying their heavy arms over you and each other, bodies and limbs tangled and gripping at whatever flesh they could find. 
You felt Ghost’s hand slide over your hip, resting his hand on your belly protectively. Gaz leaned over Price to kiss you before settling his arm over the captain’s ribs, his arm cradling your arm as you cuddled with John. Soap’s feet were wrapped around yours, keeping them warm. 
As he hardened inside of you, John kissed your forehead softly. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, John.”
A part of you was still upset at how heavy-handed they had been with your independence, but you felt your smooth muscles fluttering against John’s cock, and it was getting harder and harder to hold onto the anger that you so desperately wanted to let go of. 
As they all settled in to sleep, you decided to try and rekindle the bond that had been broken. You rocked your hips forward, sliding your slick body up and down Price’s fat length. His eyes shot open, burning into you with a dark passion.
“Little bird?”
Your lips found his neck, trailing wet kisses up to his earlobe, taking it in your mouth and suckling at his skin. 
“Not tired, love?” Simon asked, planting his own kisses on your shoulder blades, coaxing your hips to rock back and forth, chasing your high. 
“You need us, innit tha’ right, lass?” Johnny’s fingers reached over your hip, following Simon’s and then trailed down, finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, tight circles around it, making you soften around Price like an opening bud, petting your petals until you practically unfurled for him. 
“Ungh, Garrick. What are you… “ Price growled through gritted teeth. 
You watched as Kyle licked his hand and tucked it behind John’s back, heading for his tight asshole, fucking him gently on his fingers. 
“Keep fucking our girl, Cap. She needs you,” Kyle told him, “I’ll take care of you, sir.”
“I’m not as patient as the sergeant is, lover,” Simon rustled under the sheets to find his cock, and he held it in his fist, pumping it against your plump ass cheek, “Will you let me in?”
You turned over your shoulder and let him kiss you, feeling his soft lips slide against yours, giving him your tongue to suck on as his hands kneaded your sensitive breast. 
“Yes, Si,” you whispered, “Anything you want.”
You thought his reaction to your words was a little over the top, but Ghost was reacting to Soap, ducked below the sheets, eating his asshole, shoving his tongue deep in the tight opening, prepping him for more. 
Simon tucked his cock between your legs, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on you and himself, lubing you up in a messy, frantic sort of way, too desperate to care about finding a bottle of gel somewhere in the room. 
Johnny was already rutting into his lieutenant, making Simon’s cock leak and jump, excited and drooling for its own warm hole. When you felt his head touch your asshole, you sighed at the tingling electricity building there, eager to be stretched by him. Finally, he popped into your ass, and he began to fuck himself up into you, inch by inch, filling you up. 
Price was grinding his fat dick inside of you, and he groaned when he felt Simon join him on the other side, making you even tighter, forcing the captain to struggle to fit. 
Soon, all five of you were fucking each other at the same time, moaning and kissing and licking one another’s skin, twisted together in a wet mess, and you had never felt such pleasure before. It was as if you were all on the edge, ready to come at the faintest breath of an orgasm, waiting for the spark to ignite the whole room into an explosion of ecstacy. 
“Mmf-fuck!” Simon’s hand wrapped itself around your neck, “Your fuckin’ arsehole feels like heaven, love.”
“Dinnae stop, Si. I can feel when you bottom out in her. Makes you so tight, mate,” Johnny begged him, pinching the lieutenant’s nipples between his fingers over and over, teasing him relentlessly. 
“You alright, little bird?” John asked you, kissing you softly, barely dragging his lips across yours, dreamily moving against you harder and harder, chasing his pleasure, “Fuckin’ Garrick is takin’ away my stamina every time he rams into me like that. Gonna make me come too quick, Gaz.”
“Sorry, sir,” Kyle smiled, giving you a wink, as he licked and nipped at the same earlobe that you had, remembering how much he loved that spot, “Feels too good to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you moaned, wrapping your hands around John’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, “Don’t ever stop.”
Tumblr media
While you wait for the finale, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!
236 notes · View notes
eilidh-eternal · 4 months
Text
Having thoughts of the 141 but as the four horsemen of the apocalypse
Tumblr media
Despite being known as the four horseman colloquially within the SAS, none of them got their names because of the way they fight, or for some stupidly brave thing they did on an op. Nope.
Tumblr media
Gaz - Pestilence
Has an infectious smile. Literally no one can resist it. Can get anyone to do anything he asks with his smile and is soooo smug about it. Flashes it to the shy little secretary outside Price’s office when he needs a favor with his paperwork, or to the base gate-guard when he forgets his ID. He has tags on his truck for that but he likes seeing them flustered.
Price - War
Do. Not. Play. Risk. With. Him. Price has been banned from game night because the rest of the team is convinced he cheats. No one has ever beaten him at Risk—hasn’t ever come close to outmaneuvering him. Ghost takes it personally too because he’s known him the longest and still hasn’t figured out how to beat him.
Soap - Famine
Man can eat. The rest of the team knows to tell him dinner starts 15 minutes later than it really does because if you don’t beat him to it there won’t be anything left. None of the poor rookies have figured that out yet though, so Gaz always takes a little extra to share.
Ghost - Death
The jokes. Oh god the jokes. It’s not even that they’re particularly funny. It’s his deadpan delivery. He may not know anything more than cheesy military puns, but they’re good for talking rookies down in the field. Soap will never admit it but it helped a lot when he was alone in Las Almas.
Tumblr media
NSFW below the cut
Gaz
Absolutely abuses his pretty privilege with the lads and ladies. If you think soap is a big flirt? He has nothing on Gaz. This man is disgustingly, sickeningly charming and sweet, even in bed. Is absolutely the type to have you babbling nonsense, clenching down on him as he rolls his hips languidly and murmurs the sweetest praises against your skin.
“Takin’ me so well, luv. Gonna give me one more, yeah? Gonna let me hear those pretty moans?”
Price
Talks you through it. He’s used to talking his team through missions and trainings, and it’s carried over to the bedroom. Especially when you’ve been a brat all day and you’re bent over his knee, counting each strike of his hand against the swell of your ass.
“Only 5 more, don’t get quiet on me now. If I can’t hear you I’ll keep going until you can do it right. That’s what this is for, isn’t it? To teach you to do things the right way?”
Soap
Goes down on you like he’s starving. Absolutely does it for his own pleasure, and is downright nasty about it. Begs you to let him do it, complains that he needs it, that he has to know what you taste like.
Won’t stop whining until you shove his face between your legs to shut him up, and even then he’s sucking and slurping and making lewd sounds, moaning and begging for you to cum on his tongue until he’s had his fill.
Ghost
Listen. He may be an Englishman, but Ghost fucks like the French and you can’t convince me otherwise.
La petite mort.
If he doesn’t leave you limp and tingly all over, he hasn’t finished the job. Will go as many rounds as it takes to see you dumb on his cock, so fucked out your eyes are glazed over and the only name you can remember is his.
620 notes · View notes