Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Content & Warnings (MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts
After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.
Summary: You're known for being "prickly" -- or, at least, that's what Soap called you the night before holiday leave.
Weathering a brutal English snow storm, and without a single friend to your name, you resign yourself to spend Christmas Eve alone, drowning in cheap wine and cheese balls.
That is, until you happen to run into the one person on base more miserable than yourself -- Simon Riley.
Word Count: 7.9k, chapter 1 of 5
Tags: slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, comedy, hurt/comfort, eventual smut
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If you have to hear the Mariah Carey Christmas album restart one more time before you leave this goddamned grocery store you might actually murder someone tonight.
Your PTSD-induced retail memories are on a hairpin trigger, a sentiment which is (somehow) completely secondary to the buzzing irritation that’s been flowing through your veins since the minute you stepped off the plane on Tuesday morning. Heathrow had been busy enough to keep your mind from wandering, but once you got home to your too-expensive, woefully empty London flat, any and all preoccupations had flown out the window.
When you’d rented the place, you’d been sitting under a tent in the Syrian desert, praying that the on-station wifi would be strong enough to wire transfer the safety deposit before you lost the one and only vacant apartment left in the British isles. If your perusal hadn’t been interrupted by an air-raid siren, perhaps you wouldn’t have rolled your dice on the London housing market so recklessly.
Guess you should actually physically visit the apartment you’re choosing to rent the next time you decide to drop twenty-six hundred pounds in a single go.
Yeah, probably.
In all truth, you have no one to blame but yourself. Price had announced holiday leave for the entire team over four months ago—a rare treat for any special forces operator. Soap had lodgings arranged within the hour. All it took was a single phone call to his mother in Bishopbriggs, and by the time 9PM curfew rolled around, the sergeant had business class tickets to Glasgow, Christmas sweaters in his Amazon cart, and plans to meet the family in Glencoe for the annual MacTavish family holiday.
Chapter Four
your crime family needs help. to get that help, your brother sells you to john price in exchange for a loan of money and man power. but you're not for john price. you're for his ruthless, right hand man: simon "ghost" riley
slow burn, mafia au, sad girl, simon puts his hands on her (in a mean way, but doesn't hurt her)
you hadn't seen the owner of the house since you moved in. but then, you'd hardly left your room.
on your first morning, one of the maids had come to collect your phone. "Mr riley insists," she said as she took it from my nightstand. you tried to grab it from her, tried to stop her from stealing your only source of communication with your brother.
"please," you begged her, hands shaking with the weight of it, of what she was doing. "please, let me keep it."
she was gentle with you as she pet your head. "Mr riley will have a new one for you, sweetheart," she whispered, smoothing down your hair, which you hadn't yet brushed through. "top of the line."
hi! i hope i understand right and that this counts as a recolor, but i was wondering if you could possibly make a recolor of https://www.tumblr.com/pixopix/798752334863859712/hello-your-uploads-are-brilliant-i-have-a?source=share in purple? if im misunderstanding I'm sorry hfbshd, and i hope you're having a good vacation!! :D
captain john price x sergeant!reader in which he is MEAN and PISSED OFF. specifically at you.
!!MDNI!!
cw: dubcon (I'm saying off the bat reader is into this and this is in the setting of an established relationship but it's still… dubious), fem!reader, piv, mild degradation.
✨💫✨💫✨
“fuckin’ stupid bint, pullin’ that shit out there today.” it's a growled hiss against the soft patch of skin under your ear, before he bites down - hard. enough to make you whimper.
price is pissed.
righteously so.
… rightfully so. you'd been reckless. more than usual.
he'd practically dragged you by the hair to his office, shoving you onto his desk with a sharp jolt of his palm against your sternum.
“you just have to go an’ make my life more fuckin’ difficult don't you?” another hiss, hands hooked in the waistband of your cargos.
“sir, i-” you start, almost pitifully; already lifting your hips off the desk for what comes next.
“fuckin’ shut it.” blunt. as blunt as his nails as they scrape against the bare skin of your thighs as your trousers get dragged down your legs. “you've made my day harder. just listen for once in your fuckin’ life.”
he's already shoving your thighs apart, one thumb finding your clit and circling harshly.
you whimper at the pressure - too much to feel good, but your body still reacts. it can't not. not with the way he's looking down at you like he wants to tear you apart brick by brick and build you back into something that follows instructions.
you're like a rabbit blinking at headlights, knuckles white as you grip the edge of the desk.
he grins. not happy. cruel. the same way he looks at a target that isn't cooperating.
“you're gonna have to learn to listen love.” he mutters, free hand finding his belt, shoving his trousers down just enough to free himself. “one way or another. an’ i’d rather it was like this than you gettin’ shot in front of me. that's a lot of paperwork. sad phone calls to parents. all that bullshit.”
his thumb dips down to your entrance - checking sure you're at least somewhat ready. he grins again when he finds you warm and slick and absolutely ready.
“sir, captain -” it's a gasp, “look i’m sorry I didn't -”
he cuts you off again, “didn't think? never do. an’ now i’m tellin’ you not to think. so that should be easy for you.”
the blunt head of him nudges at the entrance to your cunt, before he's pushing in with a grunt.
your back leaves the desk, a hiss leaves your mouth at the stretch.
his hand finds your sternum again, forcing you flat down on the desk again whilst he practically bullies his way inside you, until his hips are pressed flush against yours.
he gives you a second. just a second to adjust. then he's pulling almost all the way out of you and slamming back inside.
rough fingers grip your jaw, angling your eyes to his. “brain off sergeant. it's a fuckin’ order. an’ i’m gonna teach you how to follow those whether you like it or not.”
your breath hitches as he slams into you again, too hard to be anything but a lesson.
“john-” it's a whimper. pathetic. quiet.
he shuts you up with his mouth on yours, tongue sweeping against your lower lip. “sergeant.” he pulls away enough to mutter, “call me fucking sir. or call me captain. don't you dare bloody call me john after the shit you pulled today.”
there's something under the anger. something that sounds like it could be fear. fear that the next time you're reckless he will be making that phone call home. that you're going to end up as blood on his boots.
his hands drop to your sides, one hand sliding to the small of your back to lift your hips; angling you in a way that makes it feel less like he's trying to tear you apart and more like he's stoking a fire burning deep inside you.
your mind goes fuzzy at the edges as he nudges over and over again at the squishy spot inside your cunt that makes your entire nervous system malfunction. the world narrowing down to just him and this and the need to do exactly what he's asking you to do.
he sees the moment it happens. the moment you give in. let go. do exactly as he's asking and let your brain white out. the way your eyes soften and your jaw slacks.
he hears it too - the hitch in your breath. the soft exhale.
“there we are love.” it's almost a grunt, “not so fuckin’ hard was it.”
each word is punctuated by a snap of his hips, his breath ghosting over your ear as he covers your body with his, hitching one of your thighs up around his hip so he can sink ever so slightly deeper.
you can only respond with a whimper. pathetic.
he gives you that same cruel smile, hand slipping between you to press his thumb against your clit again; fingers pressed into your stomach to feel himself inside you. he circles the pad of his thumb just too fast, just too hard; and he's fucking you like he's trying to fundamentally arrange your insides….and it's too much. too intense. like you're coming apart at the seams.
“jo- captain- s’ too much.” you manage to grit out through clenched teeth, fingernails digging into his biceps through his shirt.
but the way your hips buck up to meet each punishing thrust - the way you chase him says something entirely different.
“too much?” it's almost a snarl. “maybe you should have fuckin' thought of that before you acted like a fuckin’ rookie out there.”
but the pressure on your clit eases, just enough that you're no longer being tipped into overstimulation. just enough that you start to feel the tension build in your lower stomach. just enough that this feels less like a lesson.
but it is still one.
john feels the moment your walls start to flutter; you feel the moment his pace stutters. both of you right on the edge.
he pushes you, pushes you until he feels the first proper contraction of your cunt around him. until you're whining long and low and from your chest.
and then he stops. pulls out. takes his thumb off your clit. and you just stare at him as your orgasm drops off into… nothing. ruined. cunt weakly fluttering around the sudden emptiness. a moan dying as it tries to crawl its way out your throat.
you barely even notice as he wraps his hand around his cock, pulling once, twice before he spills all over your stomach instead of inside you. hot, sticky - perfect. if it wasn't for the location.
he leans over you, grips your jaw.
“now maybe you'll fuckin’ listen. next time, if you actually manage to follow orders, maybe I'll actually let you come properly.” a beat and then softer, “don't make me lose you too.”
summary: pack 141 makes their choice.
pairing: alpha!141 x omega!reader
warnings: +18 (mdni), omegaverse, hints of misogyny, a/b/o, smut (mdni), p in v, exhibition kink, dubcon.
[part 1]
if things were any easier for omegas in this world, you would’ve left the facility ages ago.
to be looked down upon because of your secondary gender and to then being bartered and sold to a devil is all there is for your kind. and in your case, four of them.
White Rose (AU) Drabble #2: You're okay, birdie Gangleder!Simon x Journalist!Reader cw: angst, power imbalance
You fucked up. And you fucked up bad.
There had been an issue with the media, a real shit-show and the last seventy-two, or however long, hours had been nothing sure than a perpetual nightmare. Long and unforgiving, each second consumed wholly with phone calls of men who you didn't even know demanding you fix this.
Unfortunately for Mr. Riley and the rest of his men, you weren't magic, you were just a woman who had bitten off way more than she could chew. Really, you were nothing more than a journalist, but that didn't matter to them or their cause; all that mattered was that you dug them out of the hole they'd managed to land in.
Mr. Riley's face was spreading in the news like wildfire, granted, the photograph was blurry, but clear enough for people to make out the purple scar trailing the length of his face.
You'd called everyone you could think of, drank so many coffees that your heartbeat had been ringing in your ears for the past forty-eight hours, so, when Mr. Riley entered your office narrowed eyed, asking you if you'd discovered who'd gotten hold of the picture and you shrugged, his subsequent outrage brought you to tears.
"You've had more..." his words trailed off as you covered your face with you hands, elbows against your desk as you bursted out into a fit of sobs.
"I- I'm sorry," you cried, blubbering like a child, "I- I'll.. I'll," your breath was just out of reach and you leaped with every inhale to catch it, only, it slipped out of your fingers and grew further and further away. "I'll do better, I swear- I swear-"
You were startled by the feeling of hands against your shoulder as you were pulled into Mr. Riley's chest. Your hands came up quickly to hold his forearms. His hand settled against your head, fingers brushing through your hair. "You're okay, birdie," he said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it. You fell against him, stammering out hums as you attempted to settle yourself. "I'm sorry, I was bein' mean, wasn't I?" he tutted, "you're doin' a good job, sweetheart, I'm jus' stressed that’s all." He pulled away from you, hand grasping the side of your face. You pulled away from him, looking up at him. He wiped your tear with the pad of his thumb. "Let's get you home, ay?"
alternate universe: 1600s, historical type: the final installment (3), but can be read stand-alone (13.3k), AO3 A HAND FOR A HAND (1) — AN EYE FOR AN EYE (2)
your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.
type: a continuation of a hand for a hand, but can be read stand-alone (11.6k), AO3
cw: 1600s au, dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, graphic depictions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, simon "i'd do anything for my wife no matter the devasting consequences" riley (18+)
what a man! | nanami kento
kinks. casual dominance, size difference, rough sex, finger sucking, creampies, multiple rounds, sex marathon, squirting
synopsis. nanami is a gentleman in public, and something else entirely in private.
kento is such a gentleman to his wife in public. holding doors open, getting you out of the driver's seat before you can unbuckle your seatbelt so he can walk around the car to help you out, tying your laces for you, doting on you when you're on your period… those are the basic things. your husband is way above all that. he goes out of his way to fuss over you constantly.
he's so far past "gentlemanly" that it almost feels unfair to compare him to anyone else. kento's the kind of husband who notices the tiniest little things before you even register them yourself. if your hair is pinned up for the night, it's him who quietly undoes it for you. he doesn't let you fall asleep like that, no matter how whiny or pouty you get about being tired.
bathing... he insists on doing it together, because for him it isn't about convenience, it's about closeness. you're bare in his arms while he's washing you carefully. kento takes his time, running the loofa along between your shoulders where you can't reach, your arms, your torso, making sure you're spotless and comfortable before he worries about himself. he has the patience of a saint, coaxing you with little kisses to your temple or a soft "just a little longer, my love," until you finally melt into his touch and let him do what he's set on doing.
in the presence of others, kento is affectionate in the most polite, impossibly tender way. a hand resting firm and protective on the small of your back, his arm always available for you to hook onto, subtle kisses to your knuckles when he's speaking with someone else. never anything showy or crass, just constant proof that you are his priority. if you're upset or start acting out, he never embarrasses you in front of others. after excusing you both, he takes your hands so you can't pull away, bend to meet your eyes, and speaks so gently that it disarms all your frustrations.
without raising his voice, he guides you back down to calm. the way he does it makes you feel less like you're being corrected and more like you're being cared for.
his behavior is noticeable. people stop and stare when he carries you at galas because your heels are hurting your feet - when he takes your plate from you halfway through dinner because he's noticed you've lost your appetite and quietly orders something lighter for you instead.
in truth, kento brings out that princess side of you because he leaves you no room to feel anything else.
now, in the private confines of his bedroom...
he's a beast. big, heavy, way too much cock for your body to handle. his voice in your ear crooning: "didn't i say no running, dear? i know you can manage all of me." you're split open, stretched to the limit while he rocks his hips real slow just to make you feel every single inch of him grinding deep.
kento keeps you spread open for hours. your pussy's dripping down your thighs, his cock sliding in and out of your sloppy hole. "mmhn... k-kento! baby, p-please slow down, please-!" but he won't. he knows that's not what you really want. he just holds your face, thumb in your mouth, making you suck it while he ruts into you harder.
kento cums too much. way too much. it's as though he'd been saving it all up for you. thick loads flood your cunt until it's leaking down to the sheets, and every time you gasp out, "ken- please, can't hold anymore, mngh! 'm too full!" he keeps fucking it back into you. or he'll pull out to scoop up what you've let drip out of you, and shove it back inside with his thick fingers. "need to keep all of me in, sweetheart."
by round three, you're gone. since you're barely able to hold yourself up, he grabs your waist and uses your body to fuck back onto him like a toy. he's hitting your gooey sweet spot over and over without slowing down or easing up. you're stuffed with all the cum he's spilled inside you, and yet he continues to mouth at your neck and mutter nasty shit into your skin. "mhm, right there. mm fuck you're sucking me in so perfect. have i tired my little wife out?" he tuts. "that's a shame. i'm not quite done yet. not until you're bred full."
but kento doesn't even know what "full" means when it comes to you. you're already stuffed to the brim, your belly round and tight from how much he's pumped inside, and still he's pounding your wrecked little hole like he hasn't already dumped load after load in you. he watches it spill every time he pulls out - thick and creamy - and then he just pushes back in, groaning about how you're wasting it, how your body should be holding all of him.
he rubs your clit with two fingers until you're wailing and squirting all over his pelvis, crying from how raw and overstimulated you are, and all he does is kiss your tears away and fuck you through it like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
kento flips you onto your side, pins one leg up to your chest, and drills into you from behind, panting about filling your womb until you can't walk straight. you're cockdrunk, drooling into the sheets, sobbing every time his fat tip punches your cervix, and still he doesn't let up. he manhandles you again so you're sat up on his lap, bouncing on his cock even though your thighs are trembling.
when you scream and gush around him one more time, adding to the creamy mess on his cock, he'll fill you right after then lays you down with him, not pulling out. you're held tight to his chest while he grinds lazy circles into your oversensitive cunt. your body still spasms around him, wrung out far too much, and he just kisses your messy hair like nothing's wrong and dozes off in seconds.
his cock is still heavy and swollen where it rests inside your ruined hole, but somehow it helps you fall asleep soon after. he's keeping you warm.
what a gentleman.
John helps deer!reader through her heat.
tags | 18+, MDNI heat, pussy slapping, degrading a bit, John’s a little mean, vaginal sex
1.8k words | Masterlist | Simon | Johnny | Kyle
The air is thick, suffocating, an all-consuming tension completely different from the pressure of your heat. It coils in your throat tightly as if you’re the one inhaling smoke and not John across the room.
You watch him from the bed, cigar dangling from his lips as he unbuttons his jeans. His shirt’s somewhere on the floor; he made you hold the burning embers while he removed it, the remnants of the warmth still stinging your fingertips.
READ THE TAGS. MDNI
Tags: non-consensual elements/rape, bikers AU, biker gang 141, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con touching, harassment, stalking, reader has a vagina, M/M/F threesome, threats, reader has a nickname, loss of parent, original characters, pack dynamics, alpha!John Price, Alpha!Nikolai, omega!reader, forced bonding, loss of virginity, breeding kink, piss kink, scent marking, daddy kink, stun guns, smut, rough sex, knotting, forced pregnancy, voyeurism, punishments, noncon spanking, p in v sex, anal sex, overstimulation, claiming bites, implied depression, implied murder, vomit, uh short appearance of a chopped off body part (action not described but the part will appear shortly)
Guys I'm trying to find this really specific fic but I can't remember if i read it on AO3 or tumblr 😭 literally searched everywhere so this is my last chance
super vague but like it was a john price x reader one, and he's yelling at reader for doing something stupid during a mission. reader gets upset and goes to a bar for drinks alone but then everyone from base is blowing up phone telling them to come back because Price is PISSED, and i think he goes to the bar himself after reader tells gaz where they are?? if this isn't the right place to post this let me know but i will dead kiss someone if they manage to find it 😭😭
READ THE TAGS. MDNI
Female reader x Nikolai x Price✨ wc: 10.8k - call of duty - explicit, MDNI. Read the tags. Dead dove don’t eat.
tags: non-consensual elements/rape, bikers AU, biker gang 141, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con touching, harassment, stalking, reader has a vagina, M/M/F threesome, threats, reader has a nickname, loss of parent, original characters, pack dynamics, alpha!John Price, Alpha!Nikolai, omega!reader, forced bonding, loss of virginity, breeding kink, piss kink, scent marking, daddy kink, stun guns, smut, rough sex, knotting, (maybe pregnancy), voyeurism, punishments, noncon spanking, p in v sex, anal sex, overstimulation, claiming barks, uh short appearance of a chopped off body part (action not described but the part will appear shortly)
AN: once again i must thank the ever so sweet @venuskaltrip for helping and dealing with me and all my ideas. and teaching me better than any of my english teachers ever have lol<33
☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️
Your head hurt a bit the following morning.
It was raining outside your window, dark clouds rumbling now and again, making you stay in your bed a tad longer than usual. You had the day off at least, so you could nurse yourself back to health. Besides food, you had no urge to get out of bed, almost tempted to hide beneath your blankets all day… perhaps even build a temporary nest, to properly feel safe for a little while.
I know it's a hot topic but would you ever think about using AI to finish a fic you're finding hard to write?
Honestly? I'd rather put out an open campfire with my clit than use AI for anything creative.
an honour
