Cod X Reader - Blog Posts

Hey guys I am a story writer, i write headcannons, short stories, long stories, and other types!

I can write smut, angst, fluff just basically everything :)

I write for

• MHA

• COD

• SLYTHERIN BOYS

• HARRY POTTER (all characters)

• SHATTER ME (the book characters)

• MARVEL

(And I can also write about any other characters you want me to write about!!)

I take requests!

𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖌𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕶ö𝖓𝖎𝖌 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝕯𝖔𝖌

Call of Duty | The Watch Dog | The Addams Family AU

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ 𝕬ᥣᥱ᥊ᥲᥒძrіᥒᥲ — 𝕭ᥣᥲᥴk 𝕸ᥲgіᥴ ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 𝐅υᥣᥣ 𝐒ρⱺ𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗒 𝐏ᥣα𝗒ᥣ𝗂𝗌𝗍 𓂃 ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘࿐

Sometimes you catch the eye of a dangerous man. Other times you're the one pursuing the danger.

What happens when said danger is an Eldritch monster, honorary uncle of the Addams, and much too tired with his existence to even consider entertaining your interest?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔬𝔫 𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔄ℑ

Here's my first contribution to the CoD bot pool! Decided to play around with some ideas for the upcoming Halloween season — and this came out. Warning: he's a daddy Eldritch man and sees no problem in devouring humans that piss off the Addams. Additionally, I'm not sure how unhinged the LLM will get with the universe, so proceed with caution. If people are interested, I can add the other Call of Duty men to this AU as well. Secondary warning: long intro and token-heavy character.

Made for my friend, Lewis.

| Concept Art |

Banners by @sweetmelodygraphics on Tumblr.

Love how they didn't make it sexual with rape, only consent and asking.💕

Idk how to work tumblr sorry, is this how you do requests? ☠️ IDEK IF YOUR TAKING REQUESTS IM SORRY. If you are tho could you pls do something along the lines of virgin fem Reader x König where Kö helps yn explore her body and figure out what feels good cuz she has no clue how sex works. PRETTY PLS SORRY IF YOURE BOT TAKING REQUESTS RN LIKE I SAID I HAVE 0 CLUE HOW TO WORK THIS APP TYSM 🫶🫶

let me help you | Konig

summary: request

warnings: oral(f!recieving), fingering, size kink, missionary , after care, lovey dovey Konig and totally no desperate Konig towards the end. like at all. oh and maybe some tummy bulge action

you were a christian, church raised girl. never once had a boyfriend. never went to parties. never kissed a boy. your parents were distraught when you ran away at 18. well, “ran away”. you saved since you were 16 for your own loft in the city and moved away without notice. changed your number and privated all socials. since then, you’ve been living yohr best life. so much so, you even managed to find a boyfriend.

tall man you met randomly at a bus stop coming back from your morning shift. he was going to his night shift. you had dropped your wallet grabbing your phone from your pocket and he saw it, quickly grabbing it and calling out for yoh. “your wallet. it fell back there.” he said, looking down at you.

he had a thick German accent, beautiful eyes and and well kept hair. and of course. he was insanely bigger than you. “thank you.” yoh would blush, quickly grabbing the wallet. not much was said after that, but instead you saw each other every day catching the bus.

finally, after seeing you everyday for a week, he finally went up to you this time for your number. and that following weekend you both were on a date, clicking almost immediately. and it only took him a three weeks to ask you, “can I be your boyfriend?”

you both have been together for 9 months now and it’s been the best 9 months of your life. he was caring, giving and gentle with you. he was your superman whenever you needed him to be. and he showed you the most amount of love you’d ever received.

one of the most important attributes he has is patience. you know Konigs been horny. sometimes you’ll wake up from a nap, hearing Konigs whimpers from the bathroom. it made you feel bad for not giving him sex the first couple months like most couples. but he never pushed you, never made you feel bad for it. “i understand mien herzchen. i’ll wait forever for you.” he comforted you one night when you confronted about your anxiety.

apart of the reason you hadn’t given him yoh was you were scared. scared of the pain, getting pregnant or diseases. you were raised with such a negative view of sex, the city and social media helped in changing your views yes, but you were still concerned of some of those things were true aboht sex.

the second was because yoh knew nothing about pleasuring someone. you didn’t even know how to pleasure yourself. you had tried before of course. but you didn’t know what you were doing. something he felt good, like when you would shift side to side on the couch you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper. you’ve felt the warmth in the pit of your stomach before, especially when you’d hear Konig at night or when he kissed you or even looked at you. you’ve gotten soaked before but you had no clue on what you were doing. so how could you pleasure Konig?

but tonight you put your big girl panties on and made your way to the drug store, looking for the pill. the morning after pill. Konig had no idea. he had no idea you’d been looking up things for sex. toys, positions. what usually feels good what usually hurts. you spend the last week studying up on sex and now you were ready.

when you got home, Konig was on the bed, watching whatever was on when you left. “hello libe. was your walk good?” he asked, sitting up with a smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you placed the bag on the bed. “uhm.. look. inside.” yoh said softly, looking back and forth between him and the flimsy bag.

“did you get me a gift?” he asked, grabbing the bag in his large hands and opening it. his smile fell, a more confused look on his face. when he looked up, you clenched your jaw before speaking. “i uh.. have been looking up these things. i was curious. but now i think i’m ready.” yoh said, clasping your hands in front of you.

for a bit Konig was silent, the bag still in his hands before humming. “are you sure libe.. this isn’t because you feel rushed or or guilty or-“ “no. i swear i-i’m ready.” you nodded.

it was silent for a moment before Konig gave you a smile, reaching over and pulling you into him. he gripped the backs of your thighs, pulling them to plop you on his lap, your legs straddling either side of him. his hands cupped the side of your face, looking at your lips before your eyes.

“i’ll go slow. promise me you’ll tell me if you get uncomfortable. or something doesn’t feel good and what does feel good.” he said, looking into your eyes. your cheeks were blushed but you nodded, giving a quiet “okay”.

he smiled before pulling your face into his, your lips moving slowly against each other. his tongue slid into your mouth, moaning softly into you. it didn’t take long for your pussy to start pounding, the familiar feeling in your stomach coming back. below, you felt the hardness of his dick press against your cunt, earning a small whimper.

he pulled away, going right for your neck. he kissed the soft skin before pressing his tongue flat, sucking your skin gently into his mouth. this earned another whimper from you, this time louder than the first. yoh instinctively put your hand over your mouth, embarrassed.

“no libe move your hand.” he said softly, pulling away from your neck. “did that feel good?” he asked, pulling your hand down from your mouth. you nodded, getting nervous and looking away quickly. “use your words. i need to know for real you liked it.” he smiled. “i-i liked it.” you nodded again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

he smirked and shifted, grabbing your hips. “i’m gonna lay you down. is that okay?” he asked. another ‘yes’. he moved quick, laying yoh on the bed and following after, spreading your legs to lay between them. “may i?” he asked again, tugging the bottom of your shirt. you nodded. he continued this pattern, asking and doing until you were fully naked beneath him.

his breath hitched as his eyes scanned down your naked body. “w-what?” yoh asked, shifting to close your legs and cover your upper half. but he was quick to push your legs back open, eyes meeting yours. “i cant look at you beautiful?” he asked softly, giving you a small smile.

his hands massaged your thighs as he leaned down, pecking your lips before going further down to your neck. this time, he was a bit more rough. you felt his teeth nibble gently at your skin, his tongue running over the spot he but down on. naturally, your hands found his hair and you clung to it. this earned a soft groan from him.

“you like when i bite down on your skin like this libe?” he whispered, his hands moving further and further up your legs. your heart began to pound in your chest and you grew a bit nervous of where Konigs hands were going. and he could tell as soon as your breaths began to pick up.

he stopped his hands and the biting on your neck, lifting his head. “am i going to fast?” he asked, looking down to your eyes. “n-no not at all. you can keep going.” you smiled, grabbing his wrists and moving them. but he obviously was able to halt his wrist easily. “tell me libe. i can go slower. or or talk to yoh more to relax you. anything.” he said, shifting himself.

instead of calmness, anxiety and guilt washed over you. you felt like you were asking of too much. “libe.” he called to you, lifting your chin. “i-i’m just really.. nervous.” you said, “but i trust you. i’ve just.. never done this before.” you finished, looking down to his chest.

he was silent for a moment before speaking again. “tell me what you want me to do.” he said, letting your legs go. “where you want me to touch or feel. we’ll go at your pace.” he said, smiling down at you.

a small smile crept to your face, feeling a bit more relaxed. your heart slowed, but anxiety was still very much an emotion you were tackling. but you were ready for this. and you couldn’t have asked for a better person to do it with.

“i-i wanna know what it’s like to.. to get eaten out.” you said, not daring to look him in his eyes. a chuckle came from above, followed with a “you don’t even have to ask for that one mien libe.”

Konig began to shuffle, moving to lay on his stomach. his hands gripped either of your thighs, an excited smile on his lips. “your skin is so soft..” he said softly, pressing his lips to your skin. he continued this, moving up your inner thighs until he got to your pussy.

he moaned quietly, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth. “and your pussy is so pretty.” he smiled. again, your heart began to pound. “may i try something?” he asked, following with another kiss to your inner thigh. quickly you nodded, the feeling of need beginning to trump the anxiety.

he shifted once more, his arms looping under your thighs. “i’m gonna rub your clit for a bit. is that okay?” he asked gently. you nodded quickly again. “your words libe.” he said, his thumb beginning to dance around your pussy. “yes. please.” you blurted out, barely allowing him to finish his sentence. with a chuckle, he pressed his thumb against your clit.

your hips jerked back slightly, a small gasp leaving your lips. slowly, he moved his thumb against your clit, moaning as your juices coating his thumb. "does my libe feel good when I rub her swollen clit like this?" he cooed, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

you on the other hand were speechless, your mouth hung open slightly. your hips bucked up occasionally, your clit throbbing against his thumb. "y-yes I love it." you moaned out, your head falling back on the pillow. but you couldn't rest too long.

"gonna taste you now. cant wait." he groaned before smashing his lips to your pussy, replacing his thumb. naturally, a gasp left your lips as he sucked your clit into his mouth softly. "o-oh my.. God." you whimpered, fingers digging into the mattress.

his tongue pressed flat against your pussy, slowly licking up your slit. when he got to your clit, he moved his tongue in small circles, finally looking up to see your hand slapped over your mouth. so he stopped.

"well that's no fun." he huffed, reaching up to force your hand off your mouth. you knew that yes, making noise during sex was normal and a turn on for most men. but you were worried you'd overdo it and eventually turn Konig off. but nothing about you in this moment, unless it was something drastic, could turn Konig off. "I wanna hear how good im making you feel schatz." he said, smiling up at you before dipping his head right back down.

this time, you felt his tongue slowly slide into your cunt, earning a gasp in response. another new feeling. he moved it in and out slowly, coating as much of his tongue he could in your juices. you whimpered out, your head falling onto the pillow. you tried to keep your hands off from your mouth, so you decided to act upon something you had read previously. gripping his hair.

this was something Konig obviously liked very much because he groaned into your pussy as soon as he felt your hands in his hair. his tongue prodded at your spongy spot earning louder, more desperate moans from you. "k-keep doing.. that. please." you whined, bucking your hips back into his face so his tongue would abuse the same spot.

he chuckled, pulling away from your pussy to spread your lips apart before going right back into your cunt. "how about.. I try something new?" he said into your pussy, kissing your clit before pulling away. you whined at the lost sensation but nodded, only caring in this moment about him eating you out again. "im gonna add a finger. get you ready for me a bit more okay?" he said, maintaining eye contact with you. when you gave him the okay, he slid one finger in slowly, humming at the sound of your pussy.

"your so wet schatz.. I don't know if I can wait any longer to be inside you." he said, watching how shiny his finger got when he slid it back out of you. you watched as his finger disappeared, grunting at the feeling of your walls being stretched. his fingers by far were a lot bigger than yours. and while yes you've managed to figure out you can put your fingers inside, it was way different when it was someone else doing it. someone who had longer, thicker fingers.

what you especially liked was when he moved his finger up and down, hitting the same spot his tongue was a few moments ago. "s-shit Koni." you whimpered, throwing your head back onto the pillow. he moved his finger slowly, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. he was entranced by how sloppy your pussy was getting for him. "can I add another libe?" he whispered softly, not even bothering to make eye contact with you. "please." you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as he was already sliding another in.

it was a new feeling, being stretched out. having something.. well inside you. it was uncomfortable at first, but he talked you through all of it. "that's it libe, taking my fingers so good aren't you?" he cooed, kissing your thighs as he moved his fingers in and out of you a bit faster. you nodded quickly, your toes curling around the sheets. "c-can you go faster?" you choked out, lifting your head to meet his eyes. he smiled, pressing one last kiss to your thighs. "anything for you libe."

his fingers moved slightly faster, finger tips digging deeper into you. your mouth fell ajar, feeling your lower stomach begin to turn. "fuck libe you're clenching around my fingers. are you close?" he asked, shifting to move closer up to your face. you assumed yes. you felt something very new in the pit of your stomach. and whatever it was was approaching fast. so you nodded your head quickly, your ands finding his forearms to grip them.

"go ahead then libe cum around my fingers. you can do it." he whispered, leaning down to your bare chest. he caught a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. the double stimulation pushed you towards the edge. but you got nervous. was this actually what an orgasm was supposed to feel like? "K-Konig it feels weird." you whined out almost inaudibly, trying to push away his arm. he released your nipple with a pop, looking into your eyes. "its okay libe just let it go. I got you." he said gently.

his finger went back to abusing your spongy spot and that alone was enough to finally push you over the edge. "o-oh God~" you whined out as your legs began to shake, your hands grasping onto his arm tighter. "thats it libe let it go.. let it all go." he cooed, watching as his fingers coated white with your cum.

your stomach was doing somersaults, your cunt spaziming around his fingers as they moved slower and slower. your chest rose and fell rapidly, your eyes fluttering closed. as soon as you began to realize how loud you just were, your cheeks turned a bright red.

"what?" he asked, picking up on your silence. his fingers finally slid out of your cunt, the feeling of emptiness taking over you. "I am.. embarrassed. I was so loud.." you admitted, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. as you did so, you heard Konig shuffling above you, his pants dropping to the floor.

"well..", he stripped the pillow away from you, meeting you with a bright smile, "you only gonna louder libe."

he tossed the pillow to the side before grabbing your under thighs, moving you closer into him. you shuffled to sit up, propping yourself on your elbows. "oh.." you accidentally said aloud. you had finally taken in his size, realizing how big he was. and it intimidated you. but he picked up on that very quickly.

"it will hurt just for a bit. like getting a shot." he said, leaning to press kiss to your forehead. "I promise it is gonna feel good." he said. you trusted him obviously. he was the one with experience after all. so you nodded and laid back down, swallowing the lump in your throat.

you felt him moving the tip of him up and dow, soft grunts coming from him. "you hear how wet you are for me libe? I think your ready." he said, smiling down to you. you felt ready. more horny than you were nervous. "please." you said softly, bucking your hips up once more.

König huffed, gripping your thighs to pull you closer to him. "take my hand, squeeze as hard as you want. and tell me if you wanna stop at any point. okay?" he said, sliding his fingers between yours. you nodded, gripping his hand. "your word, maus." he said again. "yes.. I promise."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering a soft "I love you" before taking his other hand, gripping his base and pressing it against your hole. "ill push in just a bit.. and then when you get used to the feeling ill move more." he said, looking dow at your cunt.

slowly, he pushed inside of you, his mouth falling ope slightly as a soft breath came from him. your eyes squeezed shut, finger nail digging into his knuckles. he was right, it hurt. horribly. and it was only the tip.

he kept to his word, stopping once the tip was in. "h..how do you feel?" he asked, looking at your tensed body. but all you could do was give him a small nod, trying to get used to the feeling of you being stretched out. "take as much time as you need." he said softly, kissing your cheek, moving down to your neck.

his other hand moved to your breast, trying to get your mind off the feeling of his length inside you. and it helped. your body relaxed slowly, your nails removing themselves from your boyfriends skin. "can I go a bit more?" he asked. you gave him a yes, opening your eyes. you looked down, trying to see how much left he had to push in.

he slid out his tip before pushing back into you, stopping as soon as your nails dug into him. he kept doing this, kissing you through it all, praising you and telling you how good you were doing for him. how pretty you looked. and when he was finally all the way in, you were already worn out.

"dont tap out now libe.." he chuckled, as his pelvis pushed against yours, bottoming out inside you. his knuckles were marked up with your nails, your own knuckles sore and white from how tight you were clutching to him. "its... a lot." you whimpered, looking down to see all of him had disappeared inside you. his face turned a bright red, a small chuckle leaving him. "well thank you.. are you okay if I start moving?" he asked, his hand still in yours. and when you gave him a small yes, he pulled out slightly before pushing himself back in.

your head laid back on the pillow, your eyes squeezing shut as you got used to the feeling. he moved slow, watching your body to make sure you were okay. your fingers dug into his knuckles again, but this time in a sense of pleasure. small whimpers slipped past you as he pulled out more, pushing back into you.

"talk to me libe.. how are you.. feeling." Konig asked, his eyes trailing from yours to where your bodies connected. he wasn't going any faster, though he wanted so desperately to pound into you. your cunt wrapped around him tightly, sucking him back in with each thrust. "g-good.. can you go faster?" you asked, followed by a soft whimper. he nodded quickly, his free hand finding your hip as he moved his hips faster against yours.

your eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure taking over your lower half. your whimpers grew louder and out of embarrassment, your own free hand slapped over your mouth again. but Konig grunted, taking that hand in his other. "what did I say libe? I want to hear you." he demanded, his eyes locking to yours. you hadn't realized it, but your cunt clenched around him, finding it sexy how dominant he had suddenly became.

his head fell, going back to watch himself slide in and out of you. "fuck you're so wet.. just for me hm?" he asked, gripping onto your hands. his hips slowly picked up, deep moans coming from him. he loved watching how shiny his cock was as it slid out of you, listening to it talk back to him as he pushed back inside. the sound of your slick making him throb inside of you. the sound of his balls slapping against your lower arse.

his tip began to abuse right at your womb, causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure but also pain. so his hips slowed down as he panted above you. "sorry libe.. your pussy is just so fucking wet." he chuckled, finding a small pleasure in your pained face.

his hips continued, slowing making sure to control himself. he let go of one of your hands, sliding it down your body to your puffy clit, rubbing it to match his thrust. your body reacted well to that, hips subconsciously bucking up. he chuckled, watching as your body squirmed beneath him. "feels good?" he asked, moving his eyes down to your cunt.

he doesn't know how he hadn't realized it before, but your lower half had a small bulge every time he pushed back into you. he hadn't even realized you responded to his question, his eyes locked onto how his cock filled you up, almost too much. "oh libe.." he whimpered softly, his hips again moving quicker against yours.

he couldnt help it, you were so sexy to him. he was fighting the urge to completely fuck you senseless, fighting the urge to grip your throat and fuck into you deeper, pushing your legs up to your head and hearing you cry out to him about how it was too much.

you had realized how his hips moved quicker, but it felt more pleasurable than it hurt this time. "f-feels so good Koni." you whimpered, your free hand gripping the sheets beside you. for some reason, the nickname made him more desperate for you, a whimper slipping past his lips. "fuck maus" he groaned, feeling himself already getting close.

he looked up at you, watching as your boobs bounced up and down with each of his thrusts. everything about you, your face, body whimpers was all too much for him. he was growing so desperate for you. it was a new feeling for him. of course he'd had sex before. it was an obvious fact he stated when you both began to get a bit more serious. but, the wait for this to happen, the tension and small discussions leading up to this made it so much better for not only him. but for you as well.

he was so lost in his own pleasure he hadn't felt his dick twitching inside you, the lot in his lower stomach forming quickly. it didn't help how your pussy gushed and spasmed around him, his own pelvis slowly becoming wet with your slick. "m-maus I wanna fill you.. up. you gonna let me fill this pussy up?" he panted, one of his hands gripping your chin to force you to look up at him.

"y-yes please.. please Koni." you whimpered, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. inside you, his cock twitched again, a breathy whimper leaving his lips. "fuck y-your gonna drive me crazy." he groaned, his head dropping to your neck.

his tip continued its abuse on your womb, your legs shaking on either side of him as that familiar knot came back. your nails dug into his shoulders now, crying out for him as that pleasure grew closer and closer. "cum with me libe. fuck I wanna f-feel you pulse around m-me." he moaned, pulling your lower half closer up into him.

your eyes crossed, jaw gone slack. the words, praises and soft 'I love you's' were so quiet compared to how loud you were being for him. and he fucking loved it. "I-im cumming libe.. o-oh fuck" his head lifted from your neck, eyes immediately going to your rolled back ones. your face alone made him shoot into you, your pussy pulsing around his already sensitive cock.

"I-it's gonna come... Konig~" you cried out as your legs violently shook beside him. his thumb moved quick to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm as he breathed heavily above you, watching your body tremble for him. "s-such a good.. good girl. just for me." he breathed out softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

slowly, he pulled himself out of you, watching as his cum and yours drip from you and onto the sheets. if he wasn't so worn out, and it wasn't your first time, he'd slip his cock right back into you, collecting all the cum to push right back into you. so instead, he looked up at you to see your eyes already shut closed, your breathing soft and slow.

a small smile came to his face, taking your limp arm and pressing a kiss to your hand. "libe.. come on. at least go pee first. ill clean up the mess." he said, shaking you softly. but of course, you hadn't woken up fully. so for the rest of that night Konig did everything for you and when you were finally cleaned up fully, he would watch you as your eyes closed for the last time.

yay another request out.

heyyy so recently I’ve been reading more COD x reader fics and I’ve gotten into the theme of the boys sharing pics of reader on a gc and was wondering if anyone has more fics with this kind of content, mainly NSFW stuff if possible but I’m fine with SFW as well

If anyone has any fic recommendations on Tumblr or Ao3 that would be greatly appreciated 💗💗💗🙏🙏🙏

Yall my man is just the sweetest ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Kyle Garrick x f!reader

middle ages AU

very very fluffy | non descriptive smut

contains mentions of marital abuse (not kyle)

The castle walls were cold, but not colder than your husband's silence.

Duke Simon Riley was revered across the kingdom—war hero, iron-fisted ruler, silent shadow of a man with a gaze like flint. You were the jewel he’d claimed after the war, a marriage sealed with blood-stained hands and noble signatures. They called you fortunate. A lady. A duchess. A trophy.

But behind the stone facade, you were his maid. His mother. His wife. His burden.

The servants knew better than to look you in the eye when you dragged the tray of food down the hall, your silks dusted with ash from the hearth you stoked yourself. They whispered as you limped from the cellar with buckets of wine, sleeves rolled, dignity unraveling thread by thread. The noblewoman who still scrubbed blood from his armor. Who kept his books and raised his bastard nephew. Who was expected to smile when he returned late, stinking of drink and war.

Simon barely spoke—unless it was to bark an order, or mutter thanks through gritted teeth. The only time his voice softened was when he needed you to serve him: in court, in chambers, in bed.

And you obeyed. Like a good wife. A good duchess.

Until one day, the shame turned to salt in your mouth.

When he dropped his boots at your feet without looking at you. When you poured his wine and watched him laugh with his men, never once thinking to ask you how your day was. When he dared to touch you in bed like you were a body he owned, a vessel, a duty.

Your love had died quietly, a candle snuffed out by indifference.

And one night, under a moon shrouded in mist, you packed nothing but what you could carry. Left a letter sealed with your ring. Walked past the guards who thought you were just one more servant finishing her chores.

The night air bit your cheeks as you crossed the threshold, barefoot and breathless.

No more.

No more bruised hands scrubbing floors you were meant to rule over.

No more gentle smiles for a man who never once said he loved you.

No more breaking your back for a crown that sat too heavy.

You ran into the dark, cloak whipping behind you, heart pounding.

The Duke of Blackmere would wake to an empty bed.

And for once—he could clean up the mess.

The forest swallowed the sound of your breath.

You ran.

The silk of your nightgown, once white, now clung to your legs—mud-slick and torn where the brambles snatched at it like claws. Twigs tangled in your hair, cruel fingers yanking your braids loose, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not even when the rocks bit into the soles of your feet, slicing skin and drawing warm blood that trailed behind you like a second veil.

The moon lit your path in shards—silver light piercing through the canopy, just enough to guide you forward, forward, forward.

Every step burned. Your lungs were raw. Your hands scraped against bark and stone as you stumbled, catching yourself, scrambling on all fours for a moment before rising again like a hunted animal.

Behind you, the castle stood still. Cold. Watching.

But the trees didn’t care who you were. The birds didn’t call you “Duchess.” Out here, you were no one. A woman with nothing but the fire in her chest and the echo of run, run, run in your ears.

Your gown snagged again. You hissed, yanking it free. The fabric gave with a rip, exposing your thigh to the night air. You didn’t care. You pushed on.

Until finally—lights.

Golden, flickering, swaying in the distance. Torches. Lanterns. Smoke curling from chimneys.

A village.

You stumbled over the threshold, barefoot and breathless, tears hot on your cheeks as you collapsed at the edge of a cobbled road. The world tilted. Voices called out, distant and muddled.

But you were safe.

For the first time in years—

You were free.

The first snowfall came early that year.

It blanketed the village in quiet, hush-white peace, and you watched it from the bakery window as the oven hissed softly behind you. The scent of yeast and cinnamon filled the small shop. Your hands, dusted in flour, shaped dough on muscle memory. You didn’t think much about the work anymore—it came easily now, like breath.

Months had passed since the night you’d run barefoot through the woods. No one asked why. No one pried. There was a sort of understanding here, a sacred silence shared between strangers who knew what it meant to begin again.

You were simply Miss, or darlin’, or love when Mrs. Price, the innkeeper’s wife, needed help minding her little ones and pressed hot tea into your hands. You cleaned the rooms at the inn, soothed fussy children to sleep, worked the early hours at the bakery in exchange for a roof and warm meals.

You slept on a straw-stuffed mattress beneath the rafters. It wasn’t a duchess’s bed. It didn’t need to be.

Each day blurred gently into the next. Until he became part of the rhythm.

Kyle Garrick, the farmer from just outside the village. Came into town twice a week with baskets of eggs and jugs of milk, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, hay in his curls, a dusting of dirt on his boots. He always called you Miss, voice warm as cider. Said it like a nickname, like a secret.

“G’mornin’, Miss,” he’d greet you with a little grin, arms full of crates, eyes kind. “Don’t suppose you’d let me carry those sacks for you?”

And you’d protest—always half-heartedly—as he hoisted the flour bags from the cart like they were weightless.

“I can manage,” you’d say.

“I know,” he’d reply, “but where’s the fun in that?”

He never asked where you came from. Not once. Just like the rest of them.

But sometimes you caught him looking at you—when your sleeves were rolled up and your face flushed from the oven’s heat, when you wiped sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist. Not lustfully. Just curious. Gentle. Like he was memorizing your edges.

You shared quiet moments. Small things.

He gave you the first apple from his tree that autumn. You saved the seeds.

One night, during a thunderstorm, he brought extra candles to the inn. Said he figured you hated the dark.

You did.

You hadn’t told him that.

And still—you stayed silent. You didn’t speak of the Duke. Of the silk gowns. Of the cold halls of your marriage. It belonged to another life. A different girl.

You didn’t know what this was. What it might become.

But Kyle’s hands were strong. His heart was kind. And maybe—just maybe—you were finally learning what it meant to be held, not possessed.

Kyle asked the first time in early spring.

“Got a new foal on the way,” he’d said, leaning his weight casually against the bakery doorframe, arms crossed, smiling just a little. “Thought you might want to see the farm sometime.”

You offered a polite smile, shook your head. “That’s kind, but I’ve got work.”

He didn’t push.

The second time, he tried again.

“Built a new coop for the hens. Clean lines, real proud of it. You could come see?”

You dusted flour off your apron, gave a soft laugh. “Sounds lovely, but I really can’t.”

He gave a little shrug. “Maybe another time, Miss.”

There were more offers—gentle ones. Shared like wildflowers laid at your feet. He never asked why you always said no.

Until one day, when the sun was soft and golden through the clouds and you were restocking shelves, Kyle stepped into the bakery looking just a touch more urgent than usual.

“She’s close,” he said without a greeting. “The goat. Her first birth. Thought of you right away—thought maybe you'd want to be there.”

You blinked, confused. “Why me?”

“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “You just… seemed the type who might want to see something come into the world. Something good.”

And something in you—some fragile, buried thing—stirred.

So you nodded.

The walk to his farm was quiet, just the two of you on the narrow path between wild grass and scattered yellow blossoms. Your skirts brushed the earth, your boots muddied at the edges, but Kyle didn’t seem to mind. He pointed out things as you went—that tree’s been leaning since I was a lad, foxes sometimes nest there, there’s a hawk that lives near the well.

The farmhouse was simple. Warm. The porch sagged a little, and the door creaked when he opened it. The air smelled like hay and woodsmoke and something sweet—jams, maybe.

He didn’t ask you inside. Just took you to the barn.

The goat was already panting by the time you arrived, her sides heaving.

Kyle knelt beside her and showed you how to stroke her neck. How to speak soft. Gentle.

And when the kid finally arrived, slick and squirming and alive, you cried without realizing.

Kyle didn’t speak. Just handed you a clean cloth, his fingers brushing yours.

Later, when the goat and her baby were settled, and the sun had begun to set in streaks of amber and rose, he led you back toward the farmhouse porch.

“I can walk back alone,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“You could,” he said, “but I’d rather walk you.”

And so he did.

That night, you lay awake in your narrow bed, remembering the way his hands moved—sure, patient, reverent. Remembering how he looked at you like you were real and here and not something to be claimed.

You still hadn’t told him who you were.

But maybe… he already knew there was something broken about you. Or maybe it didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

The sky was still tinted with the faint blue of pre-dawn when he arrived.

He always came early on Wednesdays—before the others, before the village stirred awake. Just him and the birdsong and the steam from the fresh loaves you made for him.

The door creaked as he entered. You didn’t look up at first, hands deep in the dough, sleeves rolled to your elbows. Your hair was braided back, wisps escaping to stick to your warm skin. The oven behind her flickered with a quiet fire.

“Morning, Miss,” Kyle said, voice soft, respectful, warm.

“You’re early,” you replied, not unkindly, still kneading.

“I like it here when it’s quiet,” he said, stepping closer but not crowding. “You working on mine?”

You nodded toward a proofing tray. “It’s rising now.”

He sat on the edge of the counter, just watching you for a while. Your hands moved like you were born to it—strong, steady, sure. You’d come to the village like a shadow, but now you glowed in the firelight. Familiar. Trusted. His, in some unspoken way neither of you had dared name.

He watched you in silence until, after a moment, he asked, “You ever been in love before, Miss?”

You paused, only for a second, then dusted your hands and went back to shaping the loaf.

“...Thought I was.”

There was no bitterness in your voice. No romance either. Just something hollowed out and carefully set down.

Kyle didn’t ask more. Didn’t need to.

He leaned back a bit, looking at you with something deeper than curiosity.

“Someone didn’t treat you right,” he said softly, not a question, not even a guess. Just a truth.

You looked up then. Just briefly. Your eyes, still tired from dreams you never spoke aloud, met his.

“No,” you whispered, “he treated me exactly how the world told him he could.”

Kyle blinked, slow. Then nodded. “World’s wrong about a lot of things.”

The air stretched between you like warm honey. The oven crackled. The dough rose. You turned your gaze back to it.

“I think I like making bread,” you said after a long silence. “It doesn’t ask anything of me. Just needs time. Patience. A steady hand.”

“I reckon you deserve the same,” he murmured.

You smiled, small and grateful.

When the loaf finished, you handed it to him wrapped in a linen cloth. His fingers brushed yours again. He didn’t linger, but he didn’t leave right away either.

“I’ll be by tomorrow,” he said. “Bring you something sweet. If you’d like.”

You didn’t nod. Didn’t answer.

But when he stepped outside, he saw your through the window, smiling to yourself with the faintest tilt of your lips.

And that was enough.

The moment the news reached you, you dropped a basket of rolls.

It passed from mouth to mouth like wildfire—a Duke, arriving tomorrow. One from the North. One with a name no one dared say but all seemed to know.

Your breath had hitched. Your hands had trembled. But you didn’t cry. You never did anymore.

By the time the sun began to dip low, painting the sky with shades of warning red, You were walking back from the bakery with your arms full of unsold loaves for the inn.

The air smelled like smoke and earth. Your stomach twisted.

“Miss?”

Kyle’s voice, always warm, always gentle, cut through the thick fog of your thoughts.

You hadn’t even heard him approach. But there he was—boots dusty, sleeves rolled, hands calloused and kind. He walked in step with you without asking.

His hand pressed lightly to the small of your back, and you startled just a little at the warmth of it. Not in fear. Just in surprise. You’d grown so used to holding yourself.

“You alright?” he asked, like he didn’t already see how tense you shoulders were.

You didn’t answer.

“Would you…” he started again, voice lower now, less sure. “Would you like to come by the farm again? Think the goats miss you.”

The question was simple. But it meant everything. A life raft offered in a storm.

You answered before you had time to think. “Yes.”

And it was the first thing that felt like a choice all day.

Kyle nodded once, like he’d expected you to say no, and the quiet joy in his eyes when you didn’t made you feel something you hadn’t let yourself feel in months.

Safe.

Not free yet. But close.

The loaves were still warm when you handed them off at the inn, your hands lingering on the cloth-covered basket like you might take it back and run. But you didn’t. You gave a soft nod to Mrs. and Mr. Price, mumbled something about being out late, and slipped through the door without another word.

Kyle waited just beyond the threshold, leaning on the fence post, eyes watching the fading sky.

Neither of you talked as you made the walk toward the farm. But it wasn’t the kind of silence you’d known before—the cold, stiff kind that always left you feeling like you’d said something wrong just by existing. No, this one was… easy. Like the earth didn’t expect anything from you but your steps on the road.

The goats came into view as the sun dipped further, casting gold over the hills. One of the younger ones bleated at you and stumbled toward the fence, nosing your palm with enthusiasm.

You laughed.

Not a pretty, courtly giggle. A real laugh. One that cracked something open in your chest, something you’d been pressing down so hard it left bruises.

You blinked fast, swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat.

Kyle didn’t say a word. Just crouched near one of the fence posts, adjusting a bit of loose rope like he didn’t notice the way your eyes shined.

But when you looked at him, he was already looking back. He smiled, soft and crooked.

“Stay for supper?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to try that stew recipe you told Mr. Mactavish about. We can make it together.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. But because it had been so long since anyone had asked you anything that didn’t come with a price.

And gods, it was hard to say no to eyes like that—gentle and open and not expecting anything more than what you’d give.

So you didn’t.

You nodded once, quiet, and when he smiled again, your heart ached in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

It was the first time in months you didn’t feel like running.

The kitchen smelled like thyme and onions, rich and warm as the stew bubbled low in the pot. Your sleeves were rolled, flour on your cheek from shaping the bread you’d offered to bake as a side, and Kyle stood beside you, peeling potatoes far slower than necessary just so he could sneak glances.

You caught him once and nudged him with your elbow. “You’re terrible at that,” you teased, grinning.

He shrugged, helpless and boyish. “Never had to impress anyone with my peeling skills b'fore.”

That made you laugh—really laugh—and you leaned over the cutting board, hiding your smile behind your wrist.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he murmured, voice a little lower than before.

She glanced up.

He was closer than you'd thought. Still holding a half-peeled potato, but now his other hand was on your waist, firm and warm. Your breath caught. You could smell the firewood smoke on his shirt, see the soft scruff on his jaw, and then—

Your foreheads touched.

Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

Your eyes fluttered shut just as his did, and for a moment, there was only the sound of the stew simmering and the quiet beat of two hearts, nearly in sync.

Then he kissed you.

Soft, patient, and certain.

And you kissed him back, your hands curling into the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in something that felt impossibly real.

A warmth bloomed in your chest, equal parts comfort and fear. Because the moment didn’t feel borrowed.

It felt like home.

You pulled back just a little, your heart racing as you caught your breath. A soft laugh escaped your lips, genuine and a little breathless. “Didn’t know it could... feel like that.”

Kyle’s gaze softened, like he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as he spoke, his voice low but certain. “It does when it’s right, Miss.”

Your chest tightened at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, something felt right. You had spent so long running, hiding, trying to outrun your past. But here, in this small kitchen with the scent of cooking filling the air and Kyle’s gentle presence in front of you, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could stay for a while.

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your skin. “You’re not alone here,” he murmured, almost as if he was reading your mind. “You don’t have to be.”

Your heart fluttered at that, but the reality of your past tugged at you like a chain, invisible but heavy. You forced a smile, trying to push the unease away, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I’m not... running anymore, Kyle.”

He didn’t need you to explain further. His smile softened, understanding more than you expected. “I know.” His hand slid from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers. “And you don’t have to. Not from me.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the kitchen. You could hear the faint rustling of the animals outside, the gentle breeze making its way through the open window, but for once, it all felt like it was in its place.

The weight of the past hadn’t vanished, but it felt lighter here, in this little corner of the world where Kyle’s touch made everything seem a little more possible.

He stepped back slowly, never breaking your connection, his hand still gently clasping yours. “Supper’s almost ready,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“Right,” you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You squeezed his hand, the action grounding you in the present, in the here and now.

“I’ll be right there,” you said, but Kyle didn’t move just yet. Instead, he leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a promise in that gentle touch.

As he stepped away, you exhaled slowly, fingers still tingling from his touch. Tonight felt different. For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe you could belong somewhere again.

And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe in that feeling.

You sat across from each other at the small wooden table, the flickering light from the lantern casting soft shadows around you both. The air was warm with the scent of roasted vegetables and the rich, earthy aroma of the bread you’d helped bake earlier. The goats had been fed, the kitchen cleared, and the simple supper you had prepared together was now in front of you.

Kyle took a bite, his eyes lighting up as he chewed. He grinned at you, a playful glint in his eye. “This... this is delicious.” He set his fork down, still smiling. “Thank you for making it with me.”

You shook your head, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You did most of it,” you protested, but there was a warmth in your voice. “I just helped with the bread and the herbs.”

He leaned back slightly, considering you for a moment before his lips curled into a grin. “True, but your bits,” he paused, picking up a piece of the roasted vegetable, “are the best.”

Your cheeks burned at the compliment, but you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked up into a smile. “Flattery won’t get you more food,” you teased lightly, but there was a softness to your tone, an ease you hadn’t expected to feel so quickly.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I think I’ve already got what I wanted,” he said, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, quiet moment. “You.”

The words hung in the air for a second, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simple. Honest. The kind of honesty you didn’t know if you were ready for, but something about him made it easier to hear. To believe.

You stirred your food, not quite looking up at him, feeling a knot in your chest tighten slightly. But it wasn’t a bad feeling—it was just... unfamiliar. “Well, I’m glad you think so highly of my cooking,” you said, trying to keep the mood light, though your heart was beating a little faster now.

Kyle took another bite, but his eyes never left you. “I’m serious,” he said softly, his voice steady and warm. “You’re different, Miss. More than you know. You’ve got a way of making everything feel... right.”

Your heart fluttered at that, and you swallowed before meeting his gaze. “And what’s that?” you asked, though you had an inkling of the answer.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers loosely wrapped around his cup of water. “You make the world a little less heavy, just by being in it.”

Your chest tightened at his words. It was so simple, and yet it felt like something you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe in for so long. Maybe you did deserve to have something light in your life again.

You didn’t say anything at first, just took a slow breath and looked back down at your plate. There was a tenderness between you now, unspoken but clear.

The sound of the wind rustling outside was the only interruption as you both finished your meals. There was no rush, no tension. Just the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

“Thank you, Kyle,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but it held more weight than you expected. “For all of this. For tonight.”

He smiled again, a soft, contented smile, before leaning back in his chair, settling in. “The pleasure’s all mine, Miss.”

And for once, you let yourself believe it.

The evening had unfolded into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, the soft glow of the lanterns flickering in the corners of the room. The meal had been simple, yet satisfying, and the air between you was easy, filled with gentle laughter and light conversation. But now, as the last of the dishes were cleared away, the weight of what was to come settled in.

You glanced toward the door, the thought of returning to the inn pulling at you. The routine you’d grown so accustomed to, the security of blending in, of being unnoticed. But tonight felt different. Kyle’s presence had been grounding, steady, and his quiet sincerity had created a warmth in your chest that you weren’t sure you wanted to leave behind.

Kyle leaned back against the chair, his hand resting on the table, his gaze soft but determined. “You don’t have to go, y’know.”

You hesitated, caught between the life you had built here and the life you had once run from. Your heart thudded in your chest at the vulnerability in his words, the earnestness in his eyes.

“Kyle…” you started, her voice trailing off. The question you had been avoiding, the fear that gripped you tightly, threatened to spill out. What if I stay?

“I mean it,” Kyle continued, his voice steady but laced with an edge of hope. “Stay with me. You don’t have to go back to the inn. You don’t have to keep running from... wha'ever you’re running from. You can stay here, with me. You’re already part of this place.”

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat. The pull of his words, the sincerity in them, had your heart racing faster than you expected. It wasn’t just about staying for the night or sharing another meal together. It was about something deeper, something more permanent. A future you hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine.

“I—” Your voice faltered. You were afraid of what this could mean. Afraid of what it might feel like to let yourself fully trust someone again. But there was a part of you, buried beneath the walls you’d built, that longed for this. For him.

Kyle’s hand moved across the table, palm up, waiting for your, his expression softening as he watched you struggle.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” he said quietly, his fingers grazing over the table’s edge as if offering you a lifeline, a choice. “But I want you here, Miss. I want you here with me. Wha'ever you need, whenever you’re ready.”

The words hung between you, heavy with possibility. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, the conflict clear in your gaze. But then, something shifted inside you. Something told you it was okay to let go, to stop fighting it.

You stood slowly, your legs slightly unsteady from the weight of the moment, and stepped closer to him. Without another word, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his touch spreading through you.

His fingers closed gently around yours, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Stay with me,” he repeated, a promise in his voice this time.

And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, staying could be the right choice.

The night was quiet, save for the steady sound of your breaths mingling in the dim light. The sheets, tangled between you, were warm and comforting. In contrast to the nights you had once known, nights that had been harsh and demanding, this one felt like a revelation. Kyle was slow, patient, guiding you with a tenderness you hadn’t known you needed, but now couldn’t seem to live without.

His movements were deliberate, each touch gentle, coaxing you through every sensation. It wasn’t hurried or desperate—there was no frantic urgency. He savored you, as if every inch of you deserved time and care. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, the line of your jaw, memorizing the soft tremor of your skin. His lips brushed against your neck, soft whispers of praise against your skin, each word making you feel seen, wanted.

You let out a sharp breath when he finally met your lips again, the kiss slow and tender, his body shifting against yours, each movement carefully planned. He was slow in all the right ways, building you up before bringing you down, making you forget everything but him. It was a stark contrast to everything you had once known—his hands were not harsh, they were reverent. His mouth was not demanding, it was kind.

Your body responded, arching beneath him, his name slipping from your lips with a mixture of awe and longing. The passion built slowly, layer after layer, until it was a pressure you couldn’t contain. Your hands found his shoulders, his back, needing to ground yourself, to feel every inch of him.

His forehead came to rest against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you heard words you never expected to hear again.

“I love you,” Kyle whispered, his voice rough but filled with sincerity.

Your heart stilled in her chest, your breath catching in your throat. Time seemed to slow. You closed your eyes, running your hands up his chest, needing to touch him, needing to make sure he was real, that this was real. You cupped his face, bringing him closer, your gaze locking with his.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but unwavering. The words felt like a promise, like something that could anchor you in this moment, in this life that you’d never imagined for yourself but somehow found.

Kyle’s smile was gentle, the way he looked at you made you feel seen, cherished. And in that moment, with him above you, with his warmth surrounding you, you knew you had found something worth staying for. Something real. Something true.

It wasn’t just love. It was everything you had been searching for without realizing it—softness, care, and a connection you had once thought was beyond your reach.

The days had passed quietly, a rhythm settling between you and Kyle. The work, the shared meals, the laughter, it all became part of your new life, one you were growing more attached to every day. The tension from the arrival of the Duke had faded into the background, though it never fully left your mind. You had avoided the village center as much as possible, staying in the comfort of Kyle’s farm, but now, on the third night, as the Duke was about to leave, you could feel it all creeping back.

You sat at the small wooden table, picking at the remnants of your supper. Kyle was across from you, his usual easy smile a bit more subdued tonight. He didn’t press you to talk about it, not really, but he had known something was up.

"I was his wife once," you said quietly, almost too quietly. The words felt heavy, like they had been waiting to be spoken, but you hadn't known when to say them.

Kyle didn’t flinch, didn’t look surprised. Instead, he nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair, his gaze soft but steady. "I know, dove," he replied simply. His voice was calm, like it wasn’t the first time he had processed this.

"You knew?" you asked, voice rising in surprise. You didn’t know how she expected him to react—anger, judgment, maybe pity. But Kyle was looking at your like he had known all along, like it wasn’t a revelation, just a fact.

"Whole village knew," Kyle said, his eyes never leaving yours. His tone was matter-of-fact, and it made you realize something you hadn't thought about—your past, your marriage to Simon, hadn't been a secret to anyone. It was common knowledge, and yet, the people in this village had let you be. They hadn’t pried, they hadn’t pushed you to speak of it. They had accepted you without question, without curiosity.

"Oh," you whispered, a wave of surprise and relief flooding through you. It was as if the weight of the past had lifted slightly, knowing that your secrets had never been the subject of gossip, never turned into something for the village to talk about.

Kyle smiled softly, almost as if he had been waiting for your to realize that. "Didn’t mention it, wasn’t our business," he added, his voice warm but firm, like he was assuring you it wasn’t something that needed to be discussed. The Duke was gone now, and whatever had happened between you, whoever you had once been to him, didn’t matter anymore. Not here, not with Kyle.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, as if exhaling a burden you hadn’t known you were still carrying. For all the guilt and confusion you had felt about your past, here, in this quiet farm with Kyle, it didn’t have to be a part of you anymore. You could simply be yourself. You could be the woman you were now—someone who had found a life you never expected to have, but one you were beginning to truly love.

Kyle stood up then, moving around the table to where you sat. He gently cupped your face in his hands, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "You’re safe here, dove," he said, his voice so full of warmth and care that it made your heart ache. "With me. Always."

The words, simple as they were, meant everything. And you realized, with a quiet certainty, that for the first time in years, you were free. Free from the weight of your past, free from the expectations placed on you, and free to live a life that was entirely your own.

With him.

Months passed, each day blending into the next with a quiet rhythm that had begun to feel like home. The days were simple but comforting—working at the bakery in the morning, kneading dough, shaping loaves, the warm scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. You had always found solace in routine, the predictability of it all, and it gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t had in years. The steady pace of your work kept you grounded, kept your mind from wandering back to the life you had run from, to the Duke who had once claimed you as his own.

Kyle never pushed you to leave the bakery, even though he offered time and again. He insisted that you could stay home on the farm, help with the chores, and be with him all day. But you knew he understood. He never pried, never made you feel guilty for the hours you spent at the bakery. He simply smiled and kissed your forehead every morning before you left for work and again every evening when you came home.

The small village had become your sanctuary, the faces of the townspeople familiar and kind. The bakery was a place where you felt useful, where the simple act of making bread for others brought you peace. You didn’t feel the need for anything more—at least, not for now.

The mornings with Kyle were often slow and peaceful. He’d wake up early to tend to the animals, always making sure to stop by the bakery to bring you fresh milk or eggs from the farm. He would help with unloading the flour or carrying the heavy sacks, always with that quiet smile of his. You could feel the ease between you, the unspoken bond that had grown stronger over the months.

And in the evenings, after the long days of work, you would sit together at the small table in the farmhouse, a candle flickering between you. And you would talk about the small things—how the animals were doing, the weather, and what you had for dinner—but it was enough. You didn’t need grand gestures or endless promises. Just the warmth of his presence beside you was all you ever needed.

"Why don’t you stay home today?" Kyle would ask sometimes, a playful gleam in his eye. "You could help me with the garden. Or maybe just sit and rest."

You would smile, running a hand through your hair. "I like the routine, Ky," you’d say softly. "I like being there."

He’d never push further. Instead, he’d simply nod, understanding that you needed this. It was the one thing from your old life that you had held on to—the routine, the simple sense of purpose that came with it.

But there were moments, fleeting ones, when Kyle would catch you gazing out at the farm, lost in thought. He’d gently pull you back into the present, reminding you with a soft touch or a quiet word that there was no need to look back anymore. He had given you a new life—one that was free from the pain of your past—and all you had to do was embrace it.

And you were starting to. Slowly, but surely, the shadow of the Duke faded more each day. The nights were yours to cherish, spent in Kyle’s arms, where you felt safe, where you felt loved. It wasn’t a life of grand adventures, but it was yours, and it was enough.

The evening air was thick with the smell of hay and the soft rustling of the barn. The loft was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the setting sun slipping through cracks in the wood. You and Kyle had just made love, your bodies tangled in the soft bedding of straw. His laughter mixed with yours as you tugged at the strands of hay that had caught in your hair. The warmth of the moment lingered, a perfect silence settling between the two of you, broken only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing.

Kyle leaned back against the hay, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes, always soft and full of affection, met yours, but there was something different tonight—a quiet intensity, like he was holding something in. You could feel the weight of it in the air, the anticipation, but you didn’t know what to expect.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn velvet pouch. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. He opened it with his fingers, and there, nestled in the fabric, was a simple, delicate ring. His mother’s ring.

He took your hand gently in his, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin as he held it up to the fading light. "I know we don’t need any of this," he said softly, his voice low and sincere. "But I want you to know that I want you with me, always. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "Will you marry me?"

You didn’t answer with words. You didn’t need to. Your heart raced, and in that moment, all the pain of the past, all the fear of what came next, melted away. The weight of the world felt light, the uncertainty replaced with a profound sense of belonging. With a breathless smile, you slid your legs over his, straddling him as you bent down to kiss him, slow and lingering. His hands, warm and firm, gripped your waist as you pressed your body against his.

The ring was slipping onto your finger, but it wasn’t the ring that mattered. It was the way he held you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. You pulled back just slightly, your forehead resting against his, both of you laughing softly.

He kissed you again, and you kissed him back, your heart beating fast, and before either of you could say anything more, you did it all over again. This time, with a different kind of intensity, a deeper connection, as if everything that had led you to this moment had been leading you here.

His mother’s ring gleamed in the dim light, but it was Kyle’s love that sparkled brightest.

You giggled as Kyle carefully cradled you in his arms, bridal-style, his strong arms holding you close. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of his embrace kept you more than comfortable. The crunch of the gravel beneath his boots mixed with your laughter as you playfully scratched at the itching hay that clung to your skin, your dress still speckled with the remnants of the barn loft.

Kyle chuckled softly, his voice low and affectionate as he glanced down at you. “You alright there, Missus?” he teased, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Got enough hay in your hair for the both of us?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. “I swear, Ky, I’m gonna be itchy for days,” you muttered, scratching again at the hay that clung to your arms.

His laugh echoed around you, warm and genuine, as he shifted you higher in his arms, making sure you were secure. “Well, you’ll just have to deal with it, Mrs. Garrick,” he teased again, his lips brushing over your forehead. “That’s what you get for marrying a farm boy.”

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hide the grin threatening to overtake you. “Mrs. Garrick…” you repeated softly, testing the sound of it, the words feeling both foreign and perfectly right all at once.

He chuckled again, his breath warm against your hair. “Yup, that's you now. Mrs. Garrick. My missus.” His voice softened, turning serious for a moment, though there was still that playful glint in his eyes. “And you always will be, you know?”

Your heart swelled, the quiet reassurance in his words enough to make the moment feel even more perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him a little tighter. “I don’t think I could be happier, Mr. Garrick,” you whispered, finally letting go of the itchiness and just letting yourself be in this moment with him.

He smiled down at you, and the warmth in his eyes was enough to banish any remaining doubts or fears you had. With him, everything felt right. Everything had always felt like it was leading here.

As you neared the house, he gave you one last squeeze, pressing his lips against the top of your head. “And you’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Garrick. Forever.”

The sun was setting low behind the rolling hills, casting a golden hue over the village. The chapel was small, but it felt like the whole world was gathered within its walls. The familiar faces of villagers, the baker, the farmer, the innkeepers, all gathered together to celebrate a love that had blossomed unexpectedly. You felt the weight of their smiles and the warmth of their well-wishes.

Standing next to Kyle, you could feel the fluttering in your chest, the way your heart seemed to race every time you caught sight of his handsome face, that familiar crooked smile. The same smile that had made you fall for him, over and over again, even on days when life was hard. He looked at you like you were the only one in the world, the way he always had since that first time you handed him bread. Maybe he did.

The Bishop's words were a blur in the background, a soft murmur of prayers, but all you could focus on was Kyle’s hand in yours, warm and strong. You couldn’t stop the heat creeping across your cheeks as he spoke his vows—so sickly sweet, so tender. The words tumbled from his lips with such sincerity, his voice thick with emotion.

“I vow to stand beside you, in every storm and every quiet night. I’ll keep you safe, hold you close, and never let you go. You’ve changed my world, my heart. You’ve made me a better man, and I swear, on this day and every day after, I’ll love you more than you could ever know.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, the words sinking deep into your bones, making your breath catch. This wasn’t like the vows you once heard from your former life—no, this was different. This was real.

You squeezed his hand tighter, your eyes watering as you tried to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. How had you ever thought you'd be content without this? Without him?

The Bishop turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “And you, my dear, what are your vows?”

For a moment, everything felt impossibly still. You looked up into Kyle’s eyes, the love and trust shining back at you, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like the girl who had run away. You didn’t feel like the broken wife.

You stood taller now, the past a shadow behind you. With a soft smile, you spoke, your voice steady, clear. “I vow to cherish you, Kyle Garrick, as you have cherished me. I’ll walk beside you in the sunshine and the rain. I’ll love you with every part of me, for all the days of my life. You are home to me.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Kyle’s hand tightened around yours, and a small tear fell from his eye, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.

The Bishop nodded, satisfied with the vows exchanged, and the ceremony continued with all the joy and love that filled the air.

But you hardly heard a word after that. All that mattered was Kyle, his soft hand in yours, his eyes full of love, and the future that stretched ahead of you both—together, forever.

"You may now kiss your bride."

As the Bishop’s words echoed through the small chapel, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Kyle’s hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek as he leaned in. His eyes locked onto yours for a brief, tender moment, a silent promise passing between you both.

Then, without a word, he kissed you.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything. The passion of every moment you’d shared, the struggles, the laughter, the quiet comfort of everyday life—it all poured into that single kiss. His lips were soft at first, exploring, tentative. But the moment you kissed him back, something inside him shifted, and so did you. His grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips hot against yours, claiming you in a way that was all his own.

There was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt—just the two of you, together, right here, in this moment.

The chapel seemed to disappear, the cheering from the villagers fading into the background as Kyle kissed you like he was trying to savor every second. His hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss, and you felt yourself melt into him, everything you’d been running from, everything you’d been hiding, falling away.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested gently against yours, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic energy you both shared. His lips were parted in a soft smile, his eyes gleaming with the same love he had sworn to you just moments ago.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, his words vibrating through you like the hum of a quiet promise.

You smiled, still lost in the aftermath of that kiss. “I love you too, Kyle.”

The room erupted into applause, but it felt like nothing compared to the warmth of his lips still lingering on yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like the girl who ran away, or the girl with a past. You were just his, and he was yours.

And as the cheers of the village surrounded you, you knew this was the beginning of a life that would be better than anything you could’ve ever imagined.

Kyle’s grin was playful, his eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. He walked with you into the house, closing the door behind you both with a soft click. His hands were already reaching for the delicate fabric of your wedding dress, eager to strip it away, but there was something more to the moment than just the anticipation of what was to come. The joy in his eyes, the way he couldn’t stop smiling as he helped you out of the gown, made you feel like the luckiest woman alive. "Gonna give you a wedding night to remember, love."

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing at the implications of his words. “I like the love we always make,” you teased, your voice low, a little breathless from the intimacy of the moment.

Kyle’s laugh was low and throaty as he kissed your forehead, his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom. “Been holding out on you, dove,” he said, his tone teasing. “Had to get a ring on your finger before I could show you what I can do with my mouth.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You weren’t quite sure what he meant, but the thought of him using his mouth on you had your pulse quickening. You flushed, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Your mouth?” you repeated, the word leaving your lips more breathlessly than you intended.

“Mhm,” Kyle murmured, his voice low and deep, laced with promise. He took his time, making sure the last few pieces of the dress were carefully removed, letting you step out of it and into the comfort of his arms. “I’ve got plenty of ways to make you remember tonight, Mrs. Garrick.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you let him pull you closer, your body pressing into his. His lips trailed down your neck, soft at first, then growing more insistent, sending shivers across your skin.

“I want to make you feel everything,” Kyle whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His hands, now bare, moved over your body, as if memorizing every curve, every inch of you. “And tonight, I’m going to show you all the ways I can.”

You felt your pulse racing, the familiar warmth of his touch igniting something deep inside of you. Tonight would be unlike any other night, and you were more than ready to see just what he had in store for you.

Kyle was a man of many talents, but nothing prepared you for the way he made you feel that night. Every touch, every movement, felt like a carefully orchestrated symphony of passion. He knew exactly where to press, how to move, and when to ease off, leaving you breathless, wanting more. His skill was unmatched, and every time you thought you might finally catch your breath, he’d take you to new heights again.

You must have died and come back five times that night, lost in waves of sensation that you never thought were possible. It wasn’t just the physical connection—though that was undoubtedly divine—it was the intensity of it all, the way his gaze never left yours, the way he seemed to be reading your body like a book, every page turning faster than the last.

And yet, despite all of that, he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

You were so caught up in the feeling of him that the lack of a kiss didn’t even register at first. But then, as his hands gently cupped your face, as he positioned himself just above you, you felt the shift—the tenderness, the deep connection that only he could give. His lips hovered over yours, barely grazing them before finally pressing firmly against you. The kiss was slow, deliberate, full of promise.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours before he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more heat.

And even as you surrendered to his touch once more, you realized that every moment with him had only deepened your feelings. You weren’t just being ravished; you were being adored, in a way that no one had ever done before. It was overwhelming, but in the best way. This wasn’t just about physical connection anymore. This was about being seen, about trust, about love.

And Kyle? He was more than worth it.

UGH MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN , POOKIE @goatgoesmbe

Wonderful ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Ghost Head Cannons||: Dad Life - Newborn Edition

( No Gender specified for Kiddo or User )

Dad!Simon, who just can't stop staring at his little baby as he holds them in his arms, even when he passes them back to you, he can't stop staring at the little bundle, his head resting on your shoulder.

Dad!Simon, who did cry silently with joy when he was alone with them, processing the fact he's actually got a little family of his own, the possibility once seeming so far from him.

Dad!Simon, who's more than used to staying up long nights, happily taking up the nightshifts while you get proper rest, not letting you take more than needed.

Dad!Simon, who remembers how to change diapers after helping care for his late nephew, so there's no debate when the time comes to it and you're busy.

Dad!Simon, who talks to the kid like he would another grown person, like they'll understand or retain any of rants he shares "'M only sayin', Price keeps trustin' yer Uncle Johnny to handle the recruits, we're only gonna get a army of Johnny's and I can barely handle one as it is." *Baby makes a low noise or flails a tiny hand* "Y'know that's exactly what he did, toss a hand and gruff at me when I told 'im that, but 'M tellin' you, it's just gonna be a headache at the end of it."

Dad!Simon, who goes about the trouble of finding "excuses" to hang out with his own kid, always cooking or helping clean with them in his arms when he has the chance to, "Look at you, layin' about like yer gonna live rent free forever. Oh no, you and I are gonna do some work round the house together, start you early on how things are run here."

Dad!Simon, who, yes, does explain every recipe and chore to the baby. You're not quite sure if he's legitimate about it or it's for his own amusement, but he looks happy anyways.

That’s my Man ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Gaz with piercings please!! 😩💎✨

My man love him some cuddles ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

Price that instead of settling into your open arms as you lay on the sofa expectantly, waiting for him to join you for a cuddle session, he lowers himself, spreads your legs wider and just falls face down in between them. He hums to himself, groans as he settles, knowing damn well this position is bad for his back, stomach down and all, but his face burried in your clothed cunt, just resting, brought him a peace that was worth the back pain.

The first few times he did so, you were absolutely baffled to say the least, and so incredibly embarrassed. He'd shush you, grabbing your protesting hand that tried to swat him away and lead it to his hair. You're on scratching duty or something, followed by a Be a good girl and let me rest.

With his arms under your thighs and ass cheeks, curling to hug your legs, at times to play with your tummy, he'd lower one of your legs so he could properly watch the television, thumb caressing your stretch marks absent-mindedly.

His beard would scratch against your inner thighs, he'd rub his cheek on your cunt with no issue. He's just getting comfortable, angel, now less squirming, hmm?

Don't get me started with the amount of times he just fell asleep almost smoldering himself into your thighs, arms hugging you tight, face burried deep onto your essence. He'd snore, sigh happily, stretch, subconsciously bury his nose deeper to take a good breath in, a deep hum of appreciation, then go right back to snoring. Sometimes he'd grumble something too, a barked order, a frown, a shiver, telling you it was a full power-nap too, not just his usual "resting his eyes". In those moments, a light scratch on his scalp and he's back to being a snoring log again.

And when he wakes up and he's hungry? He has his favorite meal right there.

He should put me in a headlock now\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

smut | 18+ mdni.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley definitely thinks he’s a soft dom.

Wholeheartedly.

He has a lot of patience, he’s cool headed most of the time and knows how to stay that way even if he’s in a sticky situation. Barking out almost everything he says, giving you a good pat to the ass as praise. He’s still getting the hang of understanding all of you, eyebrow cocking up your stupid mistakes. But he’s calm, taking your jaw in his hand to look at him, making sure you don’t get ahead of yourself, takes time to correct you so you can get better at what you need help with.

It’s not like you were bad, no, you just had your off days. ‘Everyone does honey’ Simon reminded you constantly. You were well mannered, politely asking or declining when you needed to.

But my GOD, that brute, he gave you hell.

He’s manhandling you every which way imaginable, folding you like a lawn chair. When you trying to get the rest of his swelling cock inside, whining and clenching around a quarter of him— he’s pinning your hands down with one of his calloused hands, turning you slightly on your side so both of your legs are over his right shoulder and harshly yanking you to look at him by the chin.

“What did daddy say ‘bout bein a greedy bitch mama? You know better.”

Loved putting you in a full nelson so you had to stay there and take every veiny inch of him. He’s calling you everything but a child of god.

“Such a slut, makin a mess all over me. Look at this shit.”

“Squirtin like a fuckin fountain, what a messy fuckin pup. Pretty bitch on my dick, yeah?”

And when you’d refute being his puppy, he’s putting you in doggy style. Pressing his hand on your small of your back to create the meanest arch imaginable, drilling into your gummy walls while pulling at your curls.

“Pantin like a fuckin bitch in heat, ‘nd you say you’re not my pup. Fuckin lie, that is.”

He makes it his mission to fuck you till all you can think about is ‘Simon, simon, simon, daddy, daddy, daddy—‘

And he’s stuffed you completely full, your mixed cum spilling out and forming white rings around his dick. You’re drooling, eyes seeing stars, tears down you beautiful skin and he’s snapping his fingers in your face.

“Hellooooo? earth to [+]? Is that thing on?”

Simon’s laughing at the state of you in the crevice of your neck. He adored to see you absolutely wrecked for him. Overstimulated from cumming too much or edging you till you were babbling, whimpering mess. He scuff, pushing your pretty curls out of your face to properly look at you, relentlessly ramming every inch he could into your sweet spot, you slapped at his shoulder and swore it was all ‘too much’ and how ‘you couldn’t cum anymore.’ But there you were, still a moaning mess, cunt still clinging onto his manhood for dear life and dripping down his thighs.

With a ‘thwack’ to your tender clit, and a tight grip on you’re throat,

“Fucks sake, just shut up and cum already.”

You don’t even know what the fuck is happening to you when you cum. Legs shaking, stomach turning into knots, mouth agape because the moan won’t let itself out. And then you feel it, warm fluid hitting your cervix while Simon’s tip pulses inside you. You pass out for God knows how long, but Simon is yanking you out of the darkness by playfully flicking your temple. You’re still subbed out, immediately going to cling to him like you always do. He’d hum at the action, loved his needy baby. That’s when the soft comes out.

“Did good for me princess. Always been my good girl.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, long day tomorrow, yeah?”

a/n: Simon’s an aggressive lover, it’s true. It’s science.

John just had to get a taste of his dessert (≧◡≦) 

18+ minors do not interact!

so you know that stupid tradition of the groom sticking his head under the bride's dress at the reception to pull the garter off? yeah that but every single one of the 141 would kiss your pussy while doing it.

johnny's full on making out with it over your underwear, leaving it sticking to you from a mixture of his spit and your arousal.

simon's got it pulled to the side so he can plant one directly on it and you can hear the deep rumble in his chest when you gasp in surprise.

kyle would place a kiss right over where your clit is under your underwear before running his tongue up the length of it.

and john would stuff his fingers in you while he gives your clit a harsh suck before letting go with an audible pop, comes out from under there with the garter in his teeth and licking his fingers.

\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ stuck with me forever XD

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and I've been stalking your page for a while now and I'm really surprised no one requested that one old tik tok trends of S/Os grabbing thier partners feet from under the bed.

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW THE COD MEN REACTION 😭😭😭😭😭

The way I cackled over this. I love a good prank, especially when there is nothing malicious or nasty behind it. Thank you so much for sending this in!! I had a freaking blast with this. Also, genuinely startled/surprised 141 is just a hilarious concept to me. Enjoy!!

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

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, established relationship

Word Count: 800

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

John Price

It’s unfair to do this to John, but he makes it so easy. He falls for every one of your pranks. Speedwalks right into them.

And this one is no exception.

You’ve smushed yourself underneath the bed. It’s possible you won’t be able to get out. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you’re about to scare John.

“I’m home,” he calls out.

You remain quiet. Distantly, you hear the front door shut, and John’s heavy footfalls.

“Dove. I’m home.”

Still, you remain silent.

John calls your name this time. You do not respond.

“Cabbage?”

This time, you almost snort. John doesn’t call you cabbage unless he’s being sincere.

John appears in the doorway, pausing just outside. He takes one step, and then another. He’s just out of reach, booted feet near but not close enough.

“Car’s out front.”

Another step.

You grin, and grab at his ankles.

“What in the bloody—”

John stumbles back, nearly trips, and then rights himself. You cackle, and John sighs. Wiggling closer to the edge of the bed, you bring your face into the light.

“Welcome home,” you grin.

John shakes his head. “I’m not helping you get out from under there.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You silently chuckle to yourself, rubbing your hands together like some comic book villain. Johnny is just off the game with Simon, walking around the house looking for you.

“Darling,” he calls out, that Scottish lilt making the pet name even sweeter.

You stay hidden, watching him pass the bedroom not once but twice.

Even from your hiding spot, you can hear him muttering to himself as he searches room to room.

His feet and ankles appear, pausing just inside the doorway before heading straight to the bathroom. He checks there, and then the closet.

As Johnny passes by the bed to leave, you take a swipe at his feet.

“Oi!” he shouts, spinning around.

You wait a beat. He takes a step. Pauses. When he attempts to leave again, you make another pass.

This time Johnny yells, rushing for the door, returning seconds later. Moving to his hands and knees, Johnny looks under the bed—but only at a safe distance.

“You,” he says, smirking. He starts crawling toward you.

“Johnny,” you warn, but it’s too late. He’s reaching under the bed, wrestling you out from under it, peppering you with sloppy kisses that leave smears of salvia behind.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is fresh up from a nap. He has no idea you’re currently hiding under the bed. But you’ve taken his phone, placed it on the bed as bait, making calls on it to herd him toward your hiding spot.

Simon appears, stopping directly beside the side of the bed. Slowly, you reach out, and then manically flail about, grabbing at his sock-covered feet.

You expect that your actions might surprise him. He might even make a sound, or even swear. What you didn’t expect is to hear your unshakably dreary husband let out a shriek like that of a startled old woman. Pulling your hand back, you cover your mouth, stifling a snort.

“Bloody hell!” he shouts, taking a few steps back.

He pauses a moment, and then gets down onto his knees before flattening himself across the floor.

“Come here,” says Simon, voice eerily calm.

Oh. Oh no.

“I’d rather not,” you reply, knowing that Simon is already brewing up a punishment.

“Come out, love.”

You scoot further away. “Your tone is too neutral, Simon.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“I’m calm.”

You’re nearly out the other end.

“I’ll chase you,” he smirks.

You make a run for it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m in here, Kyle,” you call out as you slide yourself beneath the bed.

You wiggle around until you’re hidden, waiting for him to follow your voice. You hear his footfalls before he appears.

“I thought we—” He comes to a stop just inside the door. “Babe?” A pause, and then he says your name. Then, softly, “where are you hiding?”

As he steps into the room, and heads for the bathroom, his feet pass by your hiding spot. This is your only opportunity before he figures out that you’re beneath the bed.

You reach out, just brushing your fingertips against him, then retreat.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts, stumbling backward.

You do it again, and this time he growls your name. Taking a step back, Kyle drops onto his stomach, gaze narrowed as it focuses on you.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan.

“I found it hilarious,” you reply.

Kyle sighs and shakes his head. “Move over.”

“What?”

Shoving himself underneath, Kyle drags himself across the floor until you’re shoulder to shoulder under the bed.

“Bloody filthy down here,” observes Kyle. “Needs a good dusting.” He winks. “Got a spider in your hair, love.”

“I regret this so much,” you whisper.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

We should move in together (≧◡≦)

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep while he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

Feels nice to be chubby today (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

(you and john price, your bear of a man, spend a winter day together. Chubby!reader)

The snow piled high against the cabin windows, muting the world outside into soft, endless white. It was the kind of winter storm that promised days of quiet seclusion- a chance to disappear from the world and pretend it was just the two of you.

Wrapped in a thick quilt, you lay curled against John’s furry chest, your body pressed so close to his that you could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. He was impossibly warm, his body heat wrapping around you like a living furnace, and his scent- smoke, pine, and something uniquely him- made you feel so safe and content.

His large hand rested on your hip, fingers splayed wide as if to remind himself of just how much of you there was to hold. He traced idle circles through the soft fabric of your sleepwear, but the barrier did little to dull the sensation of his rough fingertips against you.

“You’re so soft.” He murmured, voice low and honeyed with sleep. He shifted slightly, pressing his nose into your hair to breathe you in. His beard scraped lightly against your skin, and you shivered despite the warmth.

“Too soft, some would say.” You mumbled, though your voice was half-hearted.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes catching the firelight as they roamed over your features- lazy and reverent, like he had all the time in the world to admire you, admire every inch of soft, supple flesh.

“There’s no such thing,” he said firmly, his voice like gravel but softened by the affection in his tone. “Not for me.”

His hand moved again, trailing from your hip to your waist, then higher, brushing over the curve of your belly. He lingered there, his palm flattening against the plushness as his thumb stroked gently.

“Love this,” he murmured, grumbling, almost to himself. “Every inch of you- soft, warm. Like you were made just for me.”

Your breath caught, and you squirmed slightly under his touch, but his grip tightened- not enough to hold you still, just enough to let you know he wasn’t letting go.

“John-”

“Let me look at you,” he interrupted gently, pulling back more so he could take you in. The blanket shifted as he guided you onto your back, his body following so that he loomed over you, one arm propping himself up while the other continued its slow exploration of your curves.

His gaze dragged over you, lingering at the soft swell of your stomach and the plushness of your thighs. He made no attempt to hide his admiration- his eyes darkened, his lips parting slightly like he couldn’t quite find the words to describe how much he loved what he saw.

“You’re perfect,” he said finally, thick with conviction. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of your collarbone before nuzzling into your neck, the soft skin of your chin. “So damn perfect, love.”

Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes- though there was plenty of that, too. It was adoration, raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t believe you were real and with him.

He trailed kisses down your shoulder, his beard scratching lightly against your skin, but his hand never stopped moving- palming your waist, gripping your hip, sliding down to cup the curve of your thigh. Every touch felt reverent, like he was memorizing you all over again.

“Always thought I’d end up alone,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as his lips brushed your ear. “Never thought I’d be this lucky, having such a sweet, soft lady waiting for me at home.”

“John-”

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lips to quiet you. “Let me show you.”

And he did. He pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your jaw. He worshiped you with his hands, tracing every soft curve and plush line like he was afraid you might slip away if he stopped.

Eventually, he settled back against the pillows, pulling you with him so you could curl into his side once more. He tucked you close, burying his face in your hair, and the rumble in his chest was unmistakable this time- a low, contented sound that almost made you laugh.

“I knew it,” you teased, your voice muffled against his chest. “You can purr.”

His chest vibrated again, but this time with laughter. “Only for you.” He admitted, tightening his arms around you.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, the world was warm and quiet. Wrapped in John’s arms, with his steady heartbeat in your ear and his hands never straying far from your soft, warm body, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.

Make him my husband and baby daddy ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

This is part two of ex - boyfriend´s dad John Price x reader

TW: age gap (John is in his late 40s and reader is in her early 20s), reader is in relationship with her ex-boyfriend´s dad, breeding, unprotected sex, reader is a female

Part one

John made it very clear from the biggening that he will not hide the fact that you were sleeping together. After the night you spend together at the party, he drove you home, and asked for your number. You didn’t think that he will actually call or text you. But when you walked the stairs to your apartment, you already had a message from him, that said text me when you get to your flat, so I know you’re okay.  You texted for a while and when he promised you, that he is looking for more than just some random one-night stand, you knew what you had to do.

The next morning when you woke up, you immediately texted your boyfriend telling him that you need to speak with him. After he told you that his schedule for this week was full (it was Tuesday) you knew you were making the right decision. You wanted to finish the relationship face to face, you were not a coward, and you were not afraid to break that boy’s heart. But he left you no choice. So, you just replied that he doesn’t have to bother, that you’re breaking up with him. He didn’t respond.

John’s situation was a little bit more complicated, he couldn’t just divorce his wife, yes, they signed a prenup when they got married (John was already rich), but the process of the whole divorce was time consuming and exhausting. He knew that his wife would not cooperate. But he was not a young foolish boy, who would hide his girlfriend. If he wanted to have a relationship with you, he would. John knew that his wife also had affairs, and he didn’t feel obligated to let her know about you.

So, when after some time of you hooking up, he invited you to his house for a weekend you agreed. You expected to be just with him, and you were quite excited. What you didn’t expect was when your now ex-boyfriend opened the door, asking if you came to see him. Of course, he ignored your messages, and he thought that you were still dating.

That’s how John finds you. Talking with his son, panic in your eyes realising that his whole family is home. But John doesn’t mind. He comes to you, with one hand he squeezes your ass and with the other one he holds your neck, and he kisses you, deeply and passionately. He needs to show his son, that you are his know, that he had his shot, and he fucked it up. When your ex starts to shout at you, for being a whore and sleeping with his dad, John just calmly says to him that this is his house, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, he can leave.

John’s wife reaction is pretty much the same. She tells you that John had many women over the time of their marriage, and none of them lasted longer than a few weeks. She tells you that John is maybe fucking you right now but she is still his wife. When John tells her that he is actively working with his lawyer on changing that she has a full meltdown and leaves.

When you are finally alone with John he apologizes to you. He says how sorry he is that you had to hear these things, but he wants you here now and he can’t wait any longer. He tells you sweet nothing and he kisses your neck repeating how good you are for him and how he is so grateful that he met you. When he starts to slowly touch you, creasing your breasts through your bra and gently biting your neck, you tell him that you can’t have sex with him when you know that his son, your ex, is here.

But that doesn’t stop him, he tells you that he wants to show him how good he can make you feel. In some twisted way you start to think about this as your revenge against your ex. John is right, if he doesn’t want to hear you fucking, he can leave. So, you tell John that he can continue. John bends you against the kitchen table, not waiting any longer and he starts to pull down your panties.

He tells you how long he’s been imagining fucking you here, rough and dirty and how hard it makes him. John wants to come inside you again and again. He pushes his dick into you fast, in one swift motion and you can feel him stretching you. Even though you slept with John more times that you can actually count, it is still a stretch for you. He starts to fuck you hard, and you can fell his dick bruising your cervix. When he pulls up your shirt and starts to play with your nipples you’re moans get louder. You tried to be quieter, but John knows how to make you sing for him. When you hear sounds on the upper floor you just hope that John’s son won’t come down. It is one thing to let him hear you and the other to let him actually see how his dad fucks you.

One of Johns hands slip between your tights, and he starts to rub your clit telling you to come on his cock now. You cum at the same time as John, his load spilling inside of you and your pussy milking him. After he pulls his cock out, he pulls up your panties, he gives you a smack on your ass, and he asks you if you want a tour of his home.

Then he fucks you in the shower you take together. He presses you against the glass, pounding into you like a horny teenager who can´t stop thinking about sex. Your next round is in his bed, late at night when he makes you ride him until your legs hurt. When you wake up the next morning John is already between your legs sucking and licking your clit, telling you how pretty your moans sound when you are asleep. Then, when you’re making breakfast, he asks you to return the favour, so you end up on your knees sucking his cock until he cums in your mouth.

By the end of the weekend John’s son is gone, he moves in with his friend and you’re in the house alone. Now John can fuck you whenever and wherever he wants. You do it the hot tub, in the garden and on the balcony. Every night you go to sleep with Johns cum in your pussy and you start to get worried. You take your birth control pills every day, but you’re not sure if they will work with this amount of fucking. You just hope and pray that you will not end up pregnant with John’s child, even though that is exactly what he wants. After all he needs to find a new wife and you’re the perfect candidate.

Masterlist

My man so pretty (≧◡≦)(≧◡≦) ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

gaz study

Delicious right here \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Just wanted to say I LOVE your work! Especially with the inclusion of a black reader/character 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

This is a personal lil thought of mine, BUT

John Price wouldn’t say he was dating a black woman, but there would be signs. Even though his style would be fine beforehand, He’d be dressing nicer, his hair and beard would always be well groomed and overall put together.

I think Gaz would be the first to peep something different from his Captain cuz he recognizes the work of his own people lol

And you're right because suddenly this man's beard is lined up too nicely and that damn hat is gone. Check it below the cut love.

Rating: gen audience

It all started a few months ago with a simple, "Hey Captain?" Johnny says, "Nice cologne, the hens in the media bay can't stop talking about it."

Price only shrugged, not really paying attention, "Just trying something new."

Kyle agrees, it's new, and he thinks it fits his Captain nicely.

Then, things escalate from that one-off comment.

Kyle is perplexed. Confused. Genuinely thrown for a loop because why is his Captain sporting a tapered fade that connects tastefully to his beard? With the side burns fading into the connect?

Kyle just shruggs it off as someone at his boss' super cuts trying and talking him into something new.

Only the new hair style stays and there are plenty of women and men staring at him with lust filled eyes.

The next thing Kyle noticed was the glittering shine of a simple gold chain around John's neck. It's thin, and within regulations, the clasps are too small for his co's large hands to actually put on. Kyle peeps the little gold cross that's just dangling there when he leans over the desk to point out things in their mission dockets. Hm when did he find religion? It's not really his business.

Okay what the actual fuck? Kyle is wondering where John heard the phrase "Do I look like Boo Boo the fool" to be able to understand that he needs to not answer that question with anything other than "no ma'am". They are working with another task force that's headed by an older black woman who's a force to be reckoned with. But that's beside the point because, since when did he learn that and whom did he learn it from?

John Price isn't one to actually keep up with eating lunch at work. Kyle remembers having to drag and threaten and get Simon and Soap to help him get their leader to at least try and eat lunch and not work through it. Nowadays? This man brings in lunch, and it's not what you expect. What Kyle is expecting, well...he's not really sure what he is expecting, but seeing this man eat a fried plantain sends him.

It all comes to a head when the four of them are leaving a debrief. They are shipping out at the start of next week. Set to be gone for like maybe a few months. Johnny is begging asking for them all to go out for lunch and Price only raises an eyebrow.

"Can't today Soap." Price says as they exit the office building. His eyes scan the parking lot, and a smile breaks onto his face at the sight of a shiny black car. "I've got plans."

Now Kyle knows how to put two and two together to get four. He's had his suspicions, but the reality of John Price even dating never crosses his mind. He really thought it was just the effects of him and Soap teasing him for being an out of touch old man. But no...he crosses the parking lot and opens the car door to help out a gorgeous brown beauty. There's no telling how old she could be because Kyle knows black doesn't crack (he's often called baby face...its why he refuses to shave off the little facial hair he has). Johnny is shocked and Simon just grunts out a small "huh?" as they watch their captain help his girl into the passenger side of the car.

"In hindsight." Kyle smiles and says as they watch the car pull off, "That new cologne he started wearing months ago should have let us know far before the tapered fade."

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

This right here delicious and best believe I’m coming back for more ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

🤍𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬🤍

info: john price x female reader | inspired by 🎧daddy issues / the neighborhood🎧

category: angst, fluff

warnings: negative self talk, dd/lg themes, petnames (sweetheart & doll), lmk if i missed any.

a/n: excited to finally post something of substance on here, i have a million ideas i'm gonna try to write over holiday break.

You let your head fall to the steering wheel, huge, ugly sobs wracking your body. Your chest coiled in pain, constricting around the giant, empty hole of nothing, where something should be. Where you needed something to be. Or someone. 

You felt disgusting as you blew your nose once more, adding the rough napkin to a pile of its snot-covered brethren littering the passenger floorboard. You’d been trying not to cry for an hour, all to no avail. 

Rolling down the window, gasping for fresh air, something, anything…

The sky, dark and cold, offered no comfort, the moon and stars, no light, and the breeze gave only a bitter chill. You needed to not be alone tonight. You couldn’t be alone tonight. Dear god, I’m so tired of being alone…

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Three ti-

“Evenin’.”

“John-” you choked out, tears streaming at the sound of his voice. “John, it hurts.”

“Darlin’, what-”

“Can I come see you?” A pause. “Please.”

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave a light on for ya’.”

You threw the car into park, yanked your keys out, and slammed the door. You weren’t gonna make it. He lived on the ground floor, no stairs, that was good. Your head felt like it would float away if it weren’t for the pounding ache. You slumped against his door and knocked as loudly as you could.

A moment passed, and you wondered if the light had already been on for someone else. You ruin everything.

Footsteps. Bolt sliding out of place. Move. You gathered your weight and stood, lip trembling, in front of John Price. 

He wore a simple tee, worn with age, and faded track pants. Nothing fancy. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He made a soft vocalization and beckoned you inside. You stepped in quickly, skirting past him, afraid to get him contaminated. He closed the door behind you, locking it with surety, and turned to you with a tilt of his head. “What happened, doll?”

That did it. You crashed into his chest, crying nigh uncontrollably, hands gripping his shirt, hair a mess. 

John let out a small uff and it took him a moment before his arms very gently crossed behind your back. You didn’t care. 

“It fucking hurts, and I hate it, I hate this shit, I just want it to go the fuck AWAY!” you wept into him, tugging at the fabric he wore, hoping the clench of your palm would take away the clench of your heart. 

He sighed. In an instant, his arms had slipped down and around, scooping you off the floor and letting you curl into his torso as he walked to his room. 

“No, John, no, I’ll fuck up the bed, I can’t stop cr-”

“Hush,” he grumbled. His voice sounded thick but you didn’t have the capacity to wonder why. “Y’can’t stand right now. I’ll worry about the bed.”

He nudged the door open with his foot and you did your best to bury your entire head into his shoulder. Something, anything to take it away, to go to sleep, and feel nothing for a while…

John set you down and the mattress cradled your body. His bed smelled like him. Everything smelled like John. He lifted you up by the back and slid a few pillows underneath you, handing you a box of tissues from the nightstand. “Easy, now.” John stepped to the door, but you audibly cried. 

“Please don’t…please don’t leave.”

His eyes rested on you for a long beat, softening by the second. He stepped back to the bed and cupped your tear-damp face in his hand. “Okay,” John said, tucking your head into his stomach. “I won’t leave.” 

Those words set you off again, and your body shook from the weight of the heaviness on your shoulders. “I can’t keep living like this, John, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I know,” he murmured as he began to stroke the back of your head, “I know.” Still keeping you tucked into him, John moved over your body and sat next to you, his back against the headboard. “Come here, doll.”

Sniffling, you scooted closer to him and pressed your head into his chest. His arms wrapped you once more, and he touched his rough lips gently to your skin. “I’m here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Your head pounded again, in cadence with your heart, your breathing, your chest, your pain, your everything, and it was all too much-

“Please make it stop, I can’t do it anymore, John, please, please!” you begged, nails carving moons into your palms. 

“Gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Gotta breathe.” John took your wrists in his hands and lifted them above your head, brows creasing at the way your torso still tried to cave on itself, like the implosion of a star. “In…all the way…atta girl, out…easy, now…in…out…there y’go, in…out….” You gradually came down from the high, hiccuping less and seeing more clearly. John sighed again. “Come on, you.”

“Where?” you said, voice cracking. 

“Shower. Warm water’ll do y’good.”

You nodded numbly and held onto his index finger as he stepped around the bed to the bathroom, afraid that he would vanish into the dark. He clicked the lightswitch, and a soft, warm glow illuminated the cool tile room. “Up y’get,” he grumbled, taking you by the waist and planting you straight onto the counter. John leaned into the shower and turned the water on, letting it run over his hands. You let your foot dangle on his leg. You didn’t want to stop touching him. Ever. 

“John?” 

He stood, flicking the water from his fingertips, and motioned for you to lift your arms up. He began to peel your shirt off your body with heartbreaking gentleness. 

“Yes, doll.”

“I’m sorry,” you said through tee-shirt cotton, pulling your arms out of the entanglement.

“Don’t be.” John lifted you from the counter and crouched, unbuttoning your jeans. 

“I am.” You stepped out of the awful denim as he pulled it down your legs. “I feel disgusting and I made a fucking mess of you.”

He stood once more, stepping around you, pulling the fastens of your bra apart. “‘Boutta clean it off.” He moved to face you once more, pulling the straps down your shoulders and away from your skin. John’s eyes found the angry red line underneath your breasts from the combined too-small band and heaving sobs. He thumbed them softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible over the shhhhh of the water. 

John knelt again, tapping the inside of your thigh. “Gotta get these off.”

You obliged, stepping out so he could hook his fingers around the elastic of your panties and take those off you as well. 

You stood in the pile of your clothing and reached out, tugging at his own. “Can I?”

John nodded, his eyes never once leaving your face as you worked his body out of his shirt and track pants, hovering over his boxers before he stroked the shell of your ear. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice thick again. “Won’t hurt ya’.” You mimicked him, crouching to the floor and tugging the waistband down to reveal his naked body. He was soft, not an ounce of arousal present. Something in your stomach twisted, and tears prickled at the edge of your eyes again. You moved the boxers over his foot and put it on the growing pile of clothes. 

John’s knuckle traced your cheek. “Come on, doll. Into the water with ya’.”

You stood and shivered when his hand came to rest at the small of your back, guiding you slowly into the warm water haven. Stepping over the rim of the tub and into the shower stream, you let the water engulf you, flowing over hair and neck and face and chest. 

John stepped in after you. He didn’t move for a moment, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “What?”

“‘M sorry you’re in s’much pain.”

“...thanks.”

“Let me make it better.” You stiffened. His eyebrows knitted together in alarm. “No, not like that. Easy. Just….” John picked up a dark bottle of shampoo. “Just let me help.”

“Okay,” you whispered, turning to face the water, trying desperately to keep from crying, if only to stave off another headache. 

John’s fingers laced through your hair then, working down to your scalp, through your roots all the way back to your ends. “I know it’s not what you normally use…”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

John put his palms on your shoulders and turned you gently, gathering you into his still-dry chest and rinsing the soap from your hair. “Not a problem, doll.” 

As the shampoo ran down your back, you lifted your arms ever so tentatively, and put them around his neck. John went still for a moment, but only just a moment, and soon his fingers were back to scrubbing your head. 

You opened your mouth to the smell of his shampoo on your hair and the bare skin of his chest in front of you. His heart, thumping steadily, beat right below your cheek, and you instinctively pressed into him. 

John’s hands slowed and he began stroking your back, gathering any hair fallout, smoothing over your skin, and breathing in your scent the same as you inhaled his. “I got ya’. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

The tears came again, unbidden, but not fighting their way out as they had earlier - now they simply flowed. As you cried, John turned you back around, applying conditioner, body wash, scrubbing your body for you, tapping gently when he needed you to lift an arm or move a leg. He never stopped touching you, never lost contact with your skin. And he didn’t take advantage.

When John tapped your thigh, you wondered vaguely if he would attempt to rile you up, making the excuse of “just cleaning”. But he didn’t. A soft wash cloth lay between his fingers and your folds, and he worked the soap over your mound just the same as he had the rest of you. He lathered your breasts gently, without an ounce of boyishness, simply soaping and rinsing. John’s own body got wet in the process of cleaning you, but you found yourself too exhausted to care. 

As the last of the conditioner was washed out of your hair, John let the water run over your back, holding you between the heat of his body and that of the shower. 

“Thank you, John.”

He nodded, muscles squeezing almost imperceptibly tighter around you. “Let me know when you want to get out,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

Minutes passed and you simply stood in his arms, letting every emotion that once filled your ribcage to the point of breaking flow down the drain with the water. And John stood with you, stroking your hair when the sniffles and hiccups returned, pulling you to him when they subsided. 

You spoke up, quietly telling him you were ready to get out. He shut off the water, reaching out to grab a towel for you and helping you step out of the slick tub.

“Atta girl, doll. Slow. Good.”

John wrapped you in the plush cotton, using another towel to dry off your legs, crouched before you once again. You managed to get to your arms, but it wasn’t long before he made his way up your body and met you there, his eyes soft as he took over. “I got ya’, darlin’. I got ya’.” You looked up at him with still-teary eyes as words failed you. The ghost of a smile passed over John’s features. “I know. You want a shirt?” You looked at your own tee, covered in snot, and nodded profusely. John took your hand and led you back into his darkened room. Switching a lamp on, he opened a dresser drawer and produced an almost-identical faded, age-worn tee, indiscernible from the one on the bathroom floor. “Here you go, doll.” John turned to see you right on his heels, feeling small in the unfamiliar territory. He really did crack a smile then. “Come on. Arms up.” You obeyed, your chin sinking to your chest. His eyes never strayed from their task, even as the towel covering your body fell to the ground and fluffled around your ankles. “I got shorts or pants,” he said, “You got a preference?”

Your skin prickled in the post-shower chill. “Pants, please.”

He nodded and did the same as before, dressing you with quiet comfortability, slipping soft material up over your calves and thighs. Without asking, John also produced a pair of black, thick socks, pulling them onto your feet with ease. 

“Do…do you want me to…?” You gestured to his bare skin. “I…can. If you want.”

He met your gaze, gentle eyes making you feel a bit less hollow. “Just stay next to me.”

“Okay.” I can do that. You settled onto the bed’s edge, feet not quite touching the floor, and watched him pull a shirt over his huge back and another pair of pants over his massive legs. “John?”

“Yes, doll,” he replied as he shook the water from his hair into a towel. 

“Can we…can I, I mean, you don’t have to, can I, um…take a nap?” When he didn’t answer immediately, you tripped over yourself to explain. “Just-just for a bit, I’ll drive home tonight, I won’t stay, I just thought maybe-”

“Sweetheart.”

You sat stock still. John’s hand came up to your shoulder. “Breathe, kid. ‘M not gonna kick y’out. Stay as long as y’need.”

You stuffed your hands in your lap. “Thanks.”

He tilted his chin to the headboard. “Get under the covers, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your body moved before your brain caught up, and you were snug as a bug in a rug before you processed the full extent of his words. He’ll be here in…does he think we’re…what the fuck- 

As the confusion set in, John returned, leaning on the doorframe, phone in hand. “Y’like pizza?”

You blinked. “Yes.”

He padded toward the bed, clambering onto the mattress - the added weight made your body fall towards him as an uff escaped your lips. You smiled, the first one tonight, and curled under his arm. 

“Y’wanna order it?” John asked, showing you the screen. It’s cracked, but you can still easily make out the Domino’s online ordering menu. 

“Yessss.” You kicked your feet out in his soft sheets. Making your selections, you handed it back to him and watched his face for any sign of displeasure. He showed none. 

“Looks good, doll. You can sleep while we wait for it.”

You sat with that for a moment. “No.” You twisted your head up to look into his eyes. “Thank you, John. I would have driven off the road if not for you.”

He cleared his throat. “‘M glad y’came to me. Thank y’for lettin’ me take care of you.”

“I…like you taking care of me.” Your heart pounded and you became acutely aware of his hand on your shoulder, large palm and splayed fingers. 

“Yeah?” John’s voice rumbled in your ear, low and full and delicious-

“Yes,” you said earnestly, propping yourself up to look at him properly. “John, I…I…” He had the nerve to look amused. “...I…”

John chuckled. “Just stay. Stay and I’ll take care of you.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”  

“I…don’t know what to say.”

His features softened even more, if that was possible. “Don’t have to say anythin’. Just tell me what you wanna watch.” John nodded toward the tv atop his dresser. 

“John…” you sniffled, squeezing his shirt in your hand once more. “Can I just…lay here for a while?”

“Course.” And without a further word, he plucked a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand, opened the faded western they laid on, and began to read. 

A few moments of silence pass, and they are un-fucking-bearable. Your thoughts begin to race again - He doesn’t want you here. You’re a burden. You take up more space than you deserve. What happened to looking out for yourself? You can’t, can you? Fucking pathetic, you are. What happens when he gets tired of you? What happens wh- “John?”

He looked at you over his glasses, brows raised. “Yes, sweetheart?”

You felt small again, but safer. Safer than you had in a while. “Would you mind…reading to me? I don’t think I can sleep otherwise.”

“I’m that tedious, eh?” John grinned when you flicked him on the arm. 

“No! No, I…I want you to.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “I’ll read to you.” He turned the page back (“Can’t start right in the action, can we?”) and began, his voice flowing in its same gravelly cadence, filling your brain with soft warmth. The story was of a merchant’s daughter and the cowboy she fell in love with, and John had just gotten to the part where her father finds out. “‘-and they came to blows, fists flying through the dusty air, the world fallen silent save for the sound of knuckles on bone, and-’ Are you asleep?”

You blinked, still very much on the verge of unconsciousness. “Nuh-uhhhh…” You stretched out under his comforter, nestling your face back onto his warm thigh. 

“S’okay,” he said. John laced his fingers through your hair once more. “Y’need the rest. Take it. I’ll wake y’up when pizza’s here.”

You needed no further encouragement. As sleep overtook you once more, you managed to mumble out, “Thanks, Daddy.”

John was very still for a very long time.

Then, “...You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

a/n: if you liked this, please let me know with a like, reblog, or comment 🤍

all dividers courtesy of @saradika

I need him so bad (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(„ಡωಡ„)

Can't stop thinking about Price gaining some winter weight, having you warm your cold hands on his soft hairy stomach while you're sat on your knees between his big thighs, looking at the soft fat pad that's starting to settle around the base of his cock as he feeds it to you, your nose tickled by the hair on his stomach as he guides you down towards the base. It all makes his cock seem thicker, makes it feel like he's really stretching out your throat until tears are brimming on your lash line and he's wiping the wetness from your cheeks with a big gentle thumb. He'll make you hold onto his love handles while he fucks your face, just you wait.

I be they wife in heartbeat if they cause who gonna fat them up when they come home (✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

(more of poly 141 x roommate reader bc i got enabled: surprising them when they return home)

The aroma of roasted garlic and thyme filled the apartment, and along with it your voice as you fluttered about the kitchen while music played from your phone. You placed plates of perfectly golden roast chicken, mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables on the dining table beside bowls of creamy mushroom soup and a fresh salad and freshly baked bread.

You would never regret that cooking course you picked up. Everything just looked so… perfect. And that was without mentioning the apple pie and chocolate cake you’d also made, set aside on cute little cake pedestals you’d recently bought.

You smoothed the fabric of your skirt, picking up your phone to check on the time; they’d arrive home any moment now and you couldn’t wait to see their reactions. You’d been planning this dinner since yesterday, when Kate Laswell had called to let you know your roommates would be home today after months of being away on a mission so you could prepare this surprise for them.

You’d promised to send her and her lovely wife a big, big portion just for helping you like that. You always get worried when they take this long, but Kate tried her best to keep you up to date about them whenever they had to be no-contact with you.

The sound of the front door unlocking made your pulse quicken, and you hurried to the entryway, a bright smile on your face. You’d made sure even the candles you and Gaz like to collect were lit up, bathing the apartment in a soft golden light.

“Surprise!” you called, spreading your arms as they stepped inside, grin wide and proud.

For a moment, they stood frozen, tired eyes sweeping over the sight of you and the glowing apartment and the lovely smell of a big, warm dinner. Price was the first to move, dropping his bag and crossing the room in several long strides. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm embrace, and you melted against him right away, breathing in the familiar scent of him- smoke, leather, and something uniquely John.

“Hi!” You chirped again, patting his back.

“You’ve outdone yourself, love.” he murmured instead of a proper greeting, voice thick with gratitude.

Soap was next, scooping you into a hug so enthusiastic it lifted you off your feet right after John let you go. “Missed ya, lass,” he said, his grin bright despite the weariness in his eyes. “Look at ya, a sight fo’ sore eyes!”

“Put me down, MacTavish!”

Gaz kissed your cheek the second Johnny obeyed, his hand lingering on your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do all this, darling.” he said softly, though the way he looked at you made it clear he appreciated every bit of it.

Ghost, towering behind them, stood silently for a moment. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the nervous smile tugging at your lips. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into his chest, one large hand cradling the back of your head.

“Perfect girl, thank you.” he muttered, so low you barely heard it. But you did feel it rumble through his body.

You laughed, stepping back and gesturing toward the table. You had to know what they thought of it. “Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”.

Johnny piled his plate high, moaning exaggeratedly at every bite and making you laugh until your sides hurt. Gaz teased him about his lack of table manners while sneaking extra bread rolls for himself. Price, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was full before his own, and Simon quietly made his way through two full helpings even, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile when you nudged him to try the mushroom sauce.

Oh yes, you cooked. In more ways than one. You were so very proud of yourself, felt like you’d blow up like a balloon if they complimented you any more.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in months,” Johnny declared at last, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh and patting his stomach. He turned to you, gently caressing his knuckles across your full cheeks. “Thank ya, lass. Truly an angel.”

“You’ve ruined me for army food forever,” Kyle added, humming as he bit into another spoonful, smiling at your giggles. “Whatever next mission we’ll have is so going to suck, by the way. I mean it.”

Price reached over, covering your hand with his. “You didn’t have to do all this, love, but I’m damn glad you did,” he said, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. His mustache twitched, and he smiled at you. “Kyle’s right, though.”

Simon didn’t speak much, but the way his gaze lingered on you, warm and heavy, spoke volumes. You’d already learned how to decipher his little looks, anyways.

As the evening wound down and they cleaned the kicthen, then went to rest in the living room, you brought out the second surprises: the chocolate cake and apple pie, earning a round of groans and cheers. They insisted on helping with the second round of dishes, but you waved them off, laughing.

“Go relax,” you said, shooing them toward the living room. “This is my treat for you. You were supposed to be relaxing today!”

Though you didn’t notice the way they watched you as you moved about the kitchen.

When you finally joined them, changing into something more comfortable, you curl up on the couch tucked against Simon’s warm side and his arm drape around your shoulders almost instinctively. Soap stretched out across the floor, his head resting on a pillow near your feet, while Kyle sat on the other side of you, casually brushing his hand against yours.

It didn’t take much before you were dozing off, their quiet congestion washing over you as a soothing ambiance. You relaxed even further when you were shifted to lay fully against Simon while Kyle put your feet on his lap and began massaging your calves.

John stood by the balcony, his cigar glowing faintly in the dim light. He looked at you, surrounded by them, and something in his chest loosened.

You were too good for them, truly. Such a lovely, perfect sweetheart. But he also just- couldn’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. Never.

So he wouldn’t entertain that thought. You were perfect as you were now; just a bit more time, and they’d tell you right out how much they want you in every possible way.

Though he didn’t imagine it’d be that hard, anyways. You already acted like their perfect little wife.

AAAAHHHHH This is fantastic like it’s so beautiful chefs kiss ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?

This is a must have \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

They can do more than that if they want (≧◡≦)

i gotta go and think about golfer! john price and his buddies who frequent the country club you work at and they tip extra nice, and sometimes they like to slip it in the waistband of your skirt!!

(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)

I feel like john price is the kind of old-fashioned guy who surprises you with a trail of roses leading up the bed where you find him naked, sprawled on his side with a bottle of expensive champagne covering his crotch

a cheeky grin on his face as you eye up his thick thighs, burly chest and pudgy tummy

sigh do you see the vision?

Treat me like a rag doll

request: I headcanon Simon as a gentle dom but by reader’s request, Simon roughly fucking you :((( having his cock in your mouth and tears in your eyes as you moan from him hitting the back of your throat :(( massaging his balls. You just want to be covered in his cum!! Simon having enough and hastily getting you up into his arms and finally fucking into you while holding you up. He’s nipping at your jaw and neck, grunting into your ears and letting his mouth run wild as he talks about your wet pussy. Bonus points for a very sloppy creampie :(((( I just want his cum so bad it hurts

sloppy drooly sex w simon :(((

you asked simon to be rough w you this time and even though he was unsure at first because he knew he wouldnt hold back he agreed :(((

simon and throat fucking !!!! he wouldnt even let you have your way :(( hes got his hands tangled in your hair holding your head and forcing his big cock down your throat :(((

and when you look at him with teary doe eyes that man loses it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 he will throw his had back while the sluttiest moan makes his way out of his throat 😵‍💫

and he will cum all over your face!!! and make you swallow his cum that went in your mouth :((

'swallow it, love' and then you open your mouth to show him that you did in fact swallow :((

'mmh yeah, thats my good girl' 😵‍💫 (istg that man-)

and then he scoops you up in his arms (because yes that bitch can manhandle you no matter your size) he burries his face in your chest or neck and leaves hickies EVERYWHERE!!!! :((

no because he WILL grunt in your ear and nuzzle his nose in your hair 😵‍💫

'nngh, fuckin' love this pussy, baby' while hes nipping at your jaw :(((

and then you both cum at the same time 😵‍💫 but im telling you that man can cum so much that he cums both inside of you and all over your tits and tummy :(((

hes sloppy hes messy and i need him so bad.

(a low-effort, self-indulgent post about 141 x sunshine reader with a love for flowers <3)

Moving to a military town had been a gamble. You weren’t military, had no family in the service, and you had no real reason to pick this particular place other than the fact that it was safe, stable, and quiet. The houses were affordable, the people were friendly enough, and you figured you could make a home here. Besides, you were far enough from the base to avoid their early morning drills but close enough to still feel secure.

And it was nice. Really, it was.

The town had its charm. It was small, orderly, and filled with people who were either part of the military or had long grown used to living in the shadow of it.

You just hadn’t expected it to be so… plain.

Everything was muted, designed for practicality rather than beauty. Row after row of beige houses, identical porches, yards that were neat but uninspired. It felt more like a barracks than a town, and you knew you wouldn’t last long surrounded by such monotony.

So, you changed it.

Within a week of moving in, your porch was transformed into a floral wonderland. Ivy and jasmine vines trailed along the railings, hanging baskets, overflowed with cascading petunias, swung from the beams, and the front steps were lined with carefully arranged potted blooms. Roses, marigolds, lavender- anything that could inject some color and life into the dull uniformity of the street.

And the town noticed.

It started small- passersby slowing down, lingering in front of your house, knocking to ask if they can take pictures. Then came the comments at the local market.

“Did you see the new house on [] Street? The one covered in flowers?”

“I thought I was dreaming- looked like something out of a storybook!”

“Oh, that’s her place. She’s always out there, tending to them. Such a sweet thing, always smiling.”

And then came the soldiers.

One morning, while you were watering your newest additions- lilies this time- a group of soldiers on their way to base slowed in front of your house. Their conversation died off, replaced by muttered confusion.

“Didn’t know we had a damn botanical garden in town.” One of them said, adjusting the strap of his gear bag.

“Are those-” Another squinted at your newest arrangement. “Does she change them?”

“She does,” a woman in the group confirmed; you had seen her before, you were sure. “Saw her planting new ones last week. Honestly, it’s nice.”

You smiled to yourself, pretending not to notice as they carried on their way.

But it didn’t stop there.

Another soldier stopped during his run, hands on his hips as he took in your porch. “Hell of a setup.” He commented, glancing at you.

“Thank you!” You beamed, wiping your dirt-streaked hands on your shorts. “Wouldn’t want the town looking too drab, now would we?”

His lips twitched. “Well, you’re succeeding.”

More and more soldiers began to take notice. Some just passed by with lingering glances, others stopped to admire the work. A few even asked for gardening advice- one particularly flustered private admitted he wanted to impress his girlfriend with a flower arrangement but had no idea where to start. You happily helped him pick out a selection, even wrote him a little care guide.

It wasn’t just the passing soldiers, either.

Older women in town would stop by just to chat about your arrangements, some even bringing over cuttings from their own gardens. Parents would pause during walks, their children pointing excitedly at the bright flowers and fairy lights you had strung along the porch. The local baker started leaving small bags of cookies at your door with notes like, Your flowers made my morning brighter!

And then there was Task Force 141, as they’d eventually introduce themselves to you.

The first time you caught Captain John Price standing on your sidewalk, arms crossed as he stared at your house, you thought you were in trouble. He had the kind of presence that demanded respect- commanding, observant, the weight of experience in every movement.

“You lost?” you teased anyways, adjusting a pot of marigolds, and hoping he wouldn’t consider you disrespectful.

Price huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flicking between the vines, the flowers, the fairy lights. “No. Just… wasn’t expecting this.” He gestured vaguely at the floral explosion around you.

“Well,” you grinned. “I refuse to live somewhere that looks like a training camp. You are the soldiers, not me.”

That had been the start of it.

Soap was the next to visit. He showed up a few days later, leaning against your railing as he inspected a cluster of bright yellow sunflowers. “Got any of those that’ll survive my terrible luck?”

You hummed, then handed him a small, sturdy succulent. “Try not to kill it.”

Then came Gaz, who always claimed he was “just passing through” but somehow always found himself near your house. He asked questions- what flowers worked best for balconies? His mum has a love for tending to flowers as well. Did you have any recommendations for someone who had never taken care of a plant in his life?

Regardledd, you happily enjoyed chatting with him, and he left with a small potted fern, promising to send updates.

And then there was Ghost.

Ghost never exactly visited, but you saw him. Once, when you were rearranging your display and muttering about getting new soil, you spotted him standing across the street, arms folded as he observed your work. He didn’t say anything- just gave a barely perceptible nod before disappearing back into the shadows.

But the next morning, a heavy bag of high-quality soil rested against your porch steps. No note. No explanation.

But from what the others had told you of him… you knew who it was from.

The townsfolk had opinions about that, too.

“That group’s been sniffing around your place an awful lot,” Mrs. Holloway, the town baker, noted one morning as she handed you a fresh loaf of bread. “You got yourself a security detail, dear?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think they just like the flowers.”

The butcher, a gruff man who had lived in the town longer than anyone, grunted in agreement. “Good. Those boys need something nice to look at.”

Even the local barista took notice. “Gaz came in the other day asking if we had any floral-themed drinks,” she giggled, leaning in close to you. “I swear, he’s trying to impress you.”

Ultimately, the town adored what you were doing. Where once there had been dull uniformity, now there was life. People started adding their own touches- small flower pots, window boxes, even a few hanging baskets inspired by yours. The air felt lighter, more welcoming.

And the 141?

They had seen the worst the world had to offer. They had fought in places where beauty was a distant memory, where survival took precedence over everything else.

Yet, somehow, you- sunshine incarnate, with dirt-streaked hands and a smile that could brighten even the darkest day- had managed to burrow into their hardened hearts.

Guys I just found out that if a hickey is placed wrongly on your neck (near your jaw or by your arteries) it can actually give you a stroke because the blood might clot😟

WHAT THE FUCK HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS AND NOW IM SCARED TO GIVE OR RECEIVE ANY HICKEYS AND NOW WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT IT IT MAKES ME FEEL SO UNCOMFORTABLE AND ICKY HELP

HELP IM SORRY I KEEP LYING AND SAYING IM GONNA POST MORE LMAO GUYS I REALLY AM SORRY IVE BEEN LYING TO YOU ALL😭🙏

Guys it’s official I will be posting again tho! (NOT CLICKBAIT AND REAL!)

Bumblebee x g/n reader. Drive in movie theatre date <3

No warnings just fluff

“Where are you taking me Bee?” You chuckled slightly as he drove quickly down the road. His radio buzzing and cracking as he did so. “You’ll-*static* see!” His radio buzzed out. You relaxed into his seat and looked out the window. It was a beautiful summer night, a light breeze and a breathtaking sunset set the perfect scenery. A moment later he made a sharp turn into a neatly cut grass field with a big screen. The sharp turn made you let out a small yelp before giggling and playful hitting his steering wheel. “Awww Bee, how’d you know I love drive in Theaters!?” You said happily with a big smile. He made a happy wiring sound as he turned to park in an area with mostly no people.

After a few minutes the big screen turned on and began playing Titanic. The more the movie played the more tired you got. A yawn left your lips as you leaned back into the seat. “Rest up sleepy head…” the part of Dreams from yesterday by Mac Demarco played quickly before turning into soft radio static. “No I’ll be fine, I wanna finish the movie…” you muttered tiredly as you rubbed your eyes. You only had about 20 minutes left of the movie so you wouldn’t have to last much longer.

The next few minutes you kept falling in and out of consciousness. The sound of Bee’s quiet and soft radio static lulled you to sleep slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you cuddled and melted into the seat. Bee made a small wiring sound as he felt your soft body press against his seat. He could feel every little breath and movement you made. He pulled out of the drive in Theater and began to go back to your house. After taking a turn a bit to sharp, Bee accidentally woke you up. You yawned and sat up properly. “Sorry *buzz* love~” his radio crackled out as he noticed you beginning to gain consciousness once more. “It’s okay Bee..” you said in a tired and slurred voice. He finally got back to your house and pulled into your garage. He assumed you would want to go to your room but instead you adjusted his seat back and snuggled up against him again. “I wanna sleep in here with you tonight.” You said with a small smile as you closed your eyes again. “Good night *static* darling.” He buzzed out. “Goodnight Bee, love you.” You said quietly before falling asleep.

Mirage rise of the beasts x gn reader

Mirage is kinda obsessed with reader and a bit of a perv. Slightly nsfw (mirage watched reader get undressed and watches them shower through their window and jerks off) BYE THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING LMAO

This was like my second fanfic I’ve ever written and I was to shy to post it but because I don’t have much experience writing this might not be very good and I didn’t feel like reading this over

Ever since your friend Noah had introduced you to his friend Mirage (who happened to be a 15 foot tall alien robot from space) he developed quite a liking to you. Anytime you went to the shop Mirage was always trying to talk and flirt with you. But if you were being honest, you didn’t mind it. Little did you know, Mirage had a special little “talent” which included being able to clone himself and turning invisible. One day he heard you huffing and cursing as you made your way to the door to enter the shop and Mirage wanted to test something out. He turned invisible and sat in the corner, waiting for you to enter and when you did you were absolutely soaked due to the heavy rain outside. You noticed nobody was in the shop which was a bit strange but you were too uncomfortable in your soaking wet clothes to care so you began to take your clothes off before grabbing some fresh clothes from your bag. For the few moments you were bare and stripped of your clothes, Mirage was secretly watching you with wide eyes clearly enjoying every second of it. You huffed as you put your wet clothes in your bag and went off somewhere else in the shop to get some work done and wait for the rain to pass by. After around a hour later the rain was only a small drizzle so you decided to pack up and go to back home. You walked around 10 minutes until you made it to the parking garage where you had parked before the rain came in. If you had known before hand about the rain you would’ve parked a bit closer to the shop but it didn’t matter now. It was late so Mirage knew you were heading home but he needed to see more of you. He had to or else he thought he might go feral. You’d asked him for a ride home a few times when your car was getting serviced so he knew where you lived thankfully for him.

He knew it was wrong to follow you home but he just had to. He followed you home, poor you, not knowing Mirage could become invisible and had used that to watch you undress and now he’s using it again to follow you home. Mirage felt bad about it, it was wrong but he couldn’t help himself. You were just too perfect for him to keep his sanity. Once you got to your house you went upstairs to take a nice hot shower, after such a long tiring day you deserved it. And Mirage deserved the view you gave him from the bathroom window. Your soft beautiful skin under the hot water mixed with the steam in the bathroom was such a mesmerizing site for the mech. And you wouldn’t expect a thing. Mirage was a nice mech, so funny and caring. He would never do something bad like this right? As you scrubbed your body and washed yourself, Mirage watched the whole thing happen. His spike beginning to throb with need. The panel slid and his spike was freed. His servo tightly wrapping around it and moving rapidly as he watched you. Small groans and whimpers left his mouth the closer he got to overloading. You turned towards the window for a moment and that’s when he overloaded transfluid all over his servo. The site of your body on full display from the angle you stood at. You were like a God/Goddess to him. Breathy whines left his mouth as he watched you step out of the shower and cover yourself with a towel. He wished he could’ve seen more but he had to go back to the shop before Noah got suspicious. He transformed back into his alt mode and drove away, hoping you’d come by the shop again tomorrow and hopefully give him another show.

THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING IM SO SORRY😭