⋆˙⟡ yukii ❀༉‧

COWBOY TOJIII

Your boyfriend, Simon Riley, is drunk again. He doesn’t do it often- only when he’s out with the lads or you buy a couple bottles of wine to share. He’s not like his father, you’d affirmed for him- it’s funny, how his body loosens and his grin widens instead. Maybe like his mother, but Simon never saw her drunk.

But Simon is drunk right now. A sloppy knock on your front door is making you shoot up out of your bed, opening it to see your massive wall of a partner swaying on his feet.

“Hi puppy,” he says, the words slurring and making you flush. His arms are already around you, lifting you off the ground with his weird happy hums. You glance behind him, and see price waving from the car, his other sergeants inside with dopey grins. The scent of alcohol is thick against his breath, letting you know exactly how well the night out went.

“Hi baby- you have a fun night?” You say with a laugh, waving off the car as it pulls out of your driveway. Simon just mumbles, stumbling inside and locking the door behind him as he keeps you in one arm like a stuffed animal more than a grown man.

“Missed you- missed my puppy, good puppy,” he grumbles out, nearly falling over against the couch as you pass it. You pull off his balaclava and toss it, ruffling his shorn hair as you both finally stumble into your bedroom- falling into the mattress with a heavy thump. You manage to land next to Simon rather than under him, though his huge arms squash you against him anyways.

“C’mon, I’m sure it was fun! You haven’t seen them since their last mission, it was good to catch up,” you say sweetly, and there is no envy in it. Clutching your handsome retired man against your chest, thanking the stars it wasn’t him anymore risking his life.

“They ain’t got a wet cunt for me to sink into,” Simon says with a huff, hips rolling against yours and making your breath hitch.

“You’re drunk,” you laugh against him, shifting to sit up- oh. He’s pulling you tight against him, rolling his hips incessantly and not letting you go. Clutching at your back, humping your hip like somethings got him going. It’s cute, like he just can’t seem to help himself- it’s less cute that you remembered his strength like this, but still cute.

“Puppy.. my little.. pup,” he groans, like he’s forgotten everything but the image of your sweet dopey eyes looking up at him like this. So sweet, so happy just looking at his ugly mug- his hips turn from incessant humping to slow grinds. Like he thinks he’s inside you, fucking you closer to the edge. It’s so cute, so sweet- he’s more dog like than you right now.

“Simon, you’re gonna ruin your boxers- c’mon, let me take off your clothes,” you start, but are quickly interrupted by a pitiful whimper and his hips stuttering against yours- ah, too late. He doesn’t stop even as he cums, the pace uneven and pathetic. Nobody would imagine the fearsome Ghost would be like this in retirement- a sweet old mountain of a man cumming in his boxers just because he missed his boyfriend too much at dinner.

“Feel better now?” You ask sweetly, receiving a satisfied chuff from Simon as you finally are released and able to actually pull his clothes off. He’s still hard, cum drenching his boxers- wasn’t whiskey dick supposed to be a thing or something? It looked like alcohol fueled his appetite even more, the drunk fool bucking against your light touch as you scoop some of his spend off his cock.

Sucking it off your finger, letting out a pleased hum. His cum tastes so much better after he’s retired too, full of home cooked meals you make for each other instead of the shitty rations.

“Puppy- please? Just- fuck, just the tip, ‘ll be good,” Simon moans, and you barely are able to keep your grin from spreading across your face.

“Yeah? You promise, you just need to get the tip wet, baby?” You coo, pulling down your own pants just so you can crawl on top of your boyfriend. Simon is lazily nodding his head, eyes hazy like he can’t see straight- so cute, it’s not often he’s out of it like this.

“Mmmmhm. Jus- the tip. Promise, lovie,” the ex lieutenant says haphazardly, still out of breath from his first orgasm. His hands are dragging up and down your sides, squeezing and squishing like he can’t seem to get enough of you- lifting you up with a squeak.

“Simon-!” You scold with a laugh, reaching down to help. Dragging his thick cock through your wet folds, the head bumping deliciously against your own little t dick perfectly. You manage to notch the head against your hole, sinking down with his guidance- free hand tugging on your own cock to help yourself loosen up a bit.

Simon’s hands begin to shake the moment his head sinks into your wet cunt, pitiful grunts escaping his chest. “Fuck- fuck-“ the blonde whimpers, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sunk you down to the hilt in one go instead of doing any sort of his original plan.

You keen out, shivering at the delicious stretch he provides before remembering to play up his little game, whining and scratching at his chest. “Simon-! You promised- just the- fuck, you’re so deep!” You moan, but it’s hard to focus too well when you’re being split apart like this.

His hips are unkind, stuttered thrusts lubed up by his first load keeping you happy as you bounce up and down on his fat dick. Simon is not faring well, gasping and twitching with each rise and fall, his legs shaking under you as the man spasms.

“Fuck- puppy! Puppy- my puppy- right? Please- won’t leave me, will you?” The man whimpers, tears dotting his lashes so prettily against his flushed face. God, he was so cute- you leaned down to kiss his face, rolling your hips just the way he loved.

“I’m your puppy, Simon- your dog. ‘M never gonna leave you, never gonna leave this cock either. You know why?” You ask, and he blinks his sweet brown eyes open to try and drunkenly question you.

“Cause you’re- my- good boy-“ your words are broken apart by your boyfriends frantic thrusts, his pelvis squishing your throbbing t dick at this angle and making you squirm and mewl. Simon loved being good, loved being yours- and he loved being your good boy.

Of course, he maybe loved being your good boy a little too much- huge arms squashing you against his chest as his thrusts turn to desperate fucking. Every sharp bottoming out hits your cervix, your body spasming from the delicious pressure. Curling closer, tighter, sharper. You try to say something, to throw off your boyfriend- but it seems he’s too drunk off of the alcohol and your hot cunt to slow down anymore.

He doesn’t even stop when you cum with a sharp whine, just smothering you with his tongue down your throat as his balls slap against your ass. Practically using you like a sex toy, whimpering and moaning your little puppy heart out-

“Fuck- yes, puppy- so wet- ‘m sorry- can’t stop, oh god,” Simon cries, his hips starting to stutter when you cum again with a howl. Thrashing against him this time, your orgasms too close- your own cum splashed against against both your legs as the man finally slams to the hilt one final time and fills you with his cum.

Simon still whimpers as he slowly brings you both down from the edge, giving slow twitchy thrusts until he finally settles to the hilt again, rolling to his side and crushing you against him. You let out a groan of annoyance, but he’s already snoring, like that final orgasm knocked him right the fuck out.

Reader realized while they were on the mission that maybe they were being just a bit overbearing with the guys. After all, they weren’t used to tapping into their omega instincts so Reader decides to take their comfort down a notch.

They still take care of the 141 after a mission and look over them to make sure they’re okay, but other than that they don’t make too much of a fuss.

Reader insists that they don’t have to have a nest and that they won’t make them do it. The guys can make their own comfort nests out of each others’ clothes, right?

Reader doesn’t make the effort to constantly pump out their woodsy scent to calm everyone down. Besides, it didn’t really help much before anyways.

Overall, Reader is pretty unbothered and has learned to lay off the omegas a little. Meanwhile the 141 is STRUGGLING.

What do you mean they had to go WEEKS without their the alpha and don’t get all their attention as soon as they get back???

Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. They want to have Reader’s woodsy scent on the nest that they INSISTED they didn’t need (they do need it).

They want to be doted on and taken care of by the calm alpha plaguing their minds every single waking moment.

But they’re stubborn. So instead the 141 will continue to make small gestures hinting towards the fact that they wanna be cared for, meanwhile Reader just brushes it off.

UNDER THE LONE SUN ➔ yandere! taskforce 141 x male! reader

After leaving your last team and a few years floating around as a solo operative on loan to different units, you wanted to take a nice month-long vacation. Of course, it seems fate has different plans for you.

Following a long chat, a few promises, and begrudgingly packing up your things, you ready yourself to land in the heart of the SAS. You'd heard of the 141 while drifting around, but it was always a passing mention. What are you meant to do when the team actually seems to take a liking to you?

Too much of a liking to you.

"Let me get this straight- You're making me come back from leave early... so you can send me to the fucking U.K.?"

content warnings ➔ MDNI 18+ Eventual Smut, YANDERE THEMESx10, cod writing = canon typical violence, potentially graphic depictions of injuries, mentions of death, TBA...

tags ➔ potential cringe, male reader, top male reader, taskforce 141 x male reader, REBOOT taskforce 141, doesn't follow canon AT ALL, like only thing in common is probably the fact they're against Konni operatives, poly141, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captain John Price, reader can come off as an oc/comes off as an oc, tall + buff male reader because i'm lowkey tired of reading x delicate male reader - no shade just isn't my personal preference, no other features mentioned (hair, eye color, skin tone, etc), established callsign, reader is described as Australian/comes from Australia, mlm content gang, potential (definite) ooc, more potential cringe, sexual innuendos, constant sexual banter, reader can and will call British people poms 🥀, TBA...

more to be added as more chapters are added...

taglist ➔ @pip4everr @woahzerzzz @wannabe-red @synthe4u

00:00 ➔ prologue 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

01:00 ➔ operative runner-02 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

tacit compliance 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Munch! Simon who needs your pussy at all times. Ever since he'd retired from service, his pent-up desires know no bounds. He craved and needed it, no matter where it happened- even during the night or in a secluded place in public.

Munch! Simon sees you minding your business on the couch, wearing nothing but boxers. Like the flash, he's instantly on his knees and your boxers are lowered to your knees. Your legs were on his shoulder as he buried his head between your thighs.

Munch! Simon has a PhD in pussy eating. Simon lifted his mask to expose his mouth before latching it onto your fuzzy entrance. Your hand held onto the man's mask as he ate you out. His tongue lapped at your folds and flicked your throbbing clit. The thousands of nerves inside the nub lit your body on fire.

Munch! Simon can only groan, sending the vibrations through your body. His eyes roll to the back of his skull as he is drunk on your juices. Simon would also thrust his fingers into your tight heat while toying with your clit. Suckin' on your folds while softly biting your clit. He would leave your body shaking violently as it was too much but it felt so good.

Munch! Simon always makes you cum more than once. It's only right! When he feels your insides spasming around him before he feels the wet sensation on his tongue or fingers; he's already gonna make you have a second one. He's not gonna stop until you squirt for him. Even then, he's gonna continue.

Now, Munch! Simon does eat you out whenever you're having body dysphoria. He pins you down and tells you that you're the hottest and most handsome man he's ever seen! He would praise your body saying that you've gained tons of muscle and that everything is coming along nicely!

Another thing is that Simon loves being sat on. He loves being suffocated by your pussy and juices. Plus size? That doesn't matter, in fact, Simon loves that! He wants to feel your total weight on his face he drowns in your juices. It's his preferred position when he wants to squirt for him.

He swallows every drop like he's a dehydrated man. Simon savors the taste. Now, he's gonna that two more times.

Imagine Jack Abbot doing your testosterone injection…

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been on testosterone, you’ve always procrastinated doing your shot because stabbing yourself with a needle every week is just straight up annoying. Luckily for you, your boyfriend is a doctor. Who’s more qualified to do your shot than a doctor?

“Jack…” you whine out, looking towards the older man from your cozy spot on the couch.

He doesn’t even bother looking up from his book, simply responding with a “Hm?”

You nudge his outer thigh with your foot, getting him to look at you with a raised eyebrow, “Can you do my t shot for me?”

That certainly grabbed his attention. A cheeky smile creeps across his face as he closes his book, “I thought you’d never ask.”

It didn’t take very long for Jack to grab your shot kit from the bathroom and make his way back to where you were sitting. He sat before you atop the coffee table, putting on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. The snap against his wrist causing an unexpected flutter in your chest.

“Alrighty then,” Jack begins, vial in one hand as the other draws the oily substance into a syringe, “I’m gonna need you to either remove your shirt or lift it above your naval.”

You were quick to comply, raising the hem of your pajama shirt a few inches above your bellybutton. Jack nudged your legs open with his knee so he could get closer to you. He leans in, gently gripping your thigh as he swabs a small section of your stomach with an alcohol pad.

He looked so focused, so professional, it made your face feel hot. He pinched a fatty portion of your stomach between his fingers, easily and quickly penetrating the layers of skin with the thin needle.

Though you’d been on testosterone for a while, the intrusion still caused a small flinch. Jack looked up at you as he slowly pushed down on the plunger.

“Atta boy. Good job, sweetheart,” he praised with a low voice, “taking it so well for me.”

You nearly swatted him, he knew exactly what he was doing saying things like that, “Knock it off, asshole.”

He let out a soft chuckle as he retracted the needle, quickly placing a bandage over the injection site, “Wow, calling me an asshole after I did something so nice for you? How ungrateful.” He tutted with a small shake of his head.

After safely disposing of the needle in your sharps container, Jack pushes the rest of the kit to the side and plops back next to you on the couch. He places a still gloved hand on the injection site, gently massaging it.

“With an attitude like that, you better not expect me to be so helpful when you start getting all needy later,” he teases, using his free hand to pat your inner thigh, “we both know how worked up you get on shot day.”

you come out to your husband simon as trans

Rated: Mature (sfw I just want to be safe as this contains some heavy shit)

TWs: self hatred in regards to one's transness, heavy angst (happy ending tho), internalized transphobia, referring to past self using she/her, fear of rejection, pre-transition male reader, ftm/AFAB male reader

1.3k words

After the betrayals Simon had faced, it was very clear from the very start of your relationship that communication had to be direct, honest, and to the point. You had been stewing on this for… how long? Weeks? Months? Years? You weren’t sure when it all started, but the pot had boiled over. Maybe you had always known; maybe you hadn’t. That didn’t matter now.

All those societal expectations culminated in one giant realization that the woman who walked down the aisle to marry Simon Riley wasn’t real. She never was.

i know that its to sort of translate his accent but every writer ive seen do it always does it in the most funniest way possible i just can’t help but giggle.

it doesn’t help that every time i see it i also imagine him looking like the surprised pikachu meme

“Okay, I’m almost at the metro, we should probably hang up before the signal cuts,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder before crossing the bike lane. “See you soon!”

“See you soon. Love you,” he said, hurriedly like it would mix into the static noise of the phone call but reach your heart all the same.

“Huh?” you said, raising your voice to indicate you hadn’t heard him.

“I said I love you,” he repeated bashfully, frowning at the poster on his wall.

“Ha ha!” you chanted, making some people turn to you, startled, before continuing in the direction they were going.

“Eh?”

“Made you say it twice, heard you the first time, love you, mwah!”

“Wh-“ Then you hung up with an evil little laugh.

Wearing a wide grin, which probably made you look like an aspiring psychopath, you skipped down the stairs to the metro, excited to see your boyfriend, who loves you x 2.

Tsukishima, Hoshiumi, Suna, Kenma, Osamu, Daishou, Kunimi, Iwaizumi, Kyotani, Sakusa, anyone you want it to be<3

masterlist