#t141

# little things, big man ⭐️.

simon shows his love through little actions. you haven’t paid much attention to it until lately when you bent down to pick something up and he covered the edge of the worktop with his hand. and then after that it’s been non stop realisation.

he won’t start eating the meal you’ve cooked for him until you’ve taken the first bite. why should he when you spent so long perfecting it for him? he’s not a selfish bastard when it comes to you, he just can’t bring himself to be.

if you’re craving something late at night and nothing is open, he’ll make it his life’s mission to get it for you. and if he can’t? well he’ll just fuck the craving out until you’re exhausted and fall asleep anyway, “yeah, that’s right… sleep it off, love. we’ll get it for you in the mornin’ shh.”

he loves making sure you have money to splurge on everything. he’d discretely linked his card to your phone and refused to take it off when you noticed money hadn’t been leaving your account. he’s tapping his card in shops before you even have a second to think about buying, “shoes look sexy, wear ‘em for me” or “actin’ like i spent fucking thousands just accept the fucking bracelet.”

he knows your likes and dislikes as though they’re the back of his hand. he’s removing the onions from you burger before you notice they’re there, transferring the pickles from his to yours because they’re your favourite part. and if the take away place forgets the bbq sauce? he’s stomping back in as if he owns it: “my wife asked for bbq sauce so she better fuckin’ get it,” whilst you stand there, cheeks heated and chewing your lip nervously with an attempt to calm him down as you wrap your arm around his.

you don’t even have to complain the big light is too much when you’re reading in the night in bed, the next day there’s two little lamps waiting for you and a grumble to keep both when you say you simply can’t decide between them.

and you can’t even remember the last time you haven’t received flowers when he comes home, tulips because they’re your favourite but he manages to make them look different and special each time. “think i’m comin’ home empty handed? bullshit love, take this shite and shove it in water.”

he doesn’t know how to say he loves you often, his defences keep him from it but he finds a way to show it anyway. and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make life easier to live for you day by day because you don’t deserve difficulty. he’ll make sure of it.

(inspired by the toxic price and x vs y posts, by @rawme-price )

toxic price who cheats on you and then blames you... mmm.... mm.... its because you were pregnant and so so tired, weren't you love? and daddy just needed to get off, it doesn't mean anything, does it? who owns the house, and pays the bills? and you just nod, because yeah, you have been tired, and he does pay the bills and everything, and you can't even be there to let him blow off steam, so it's right of him to just blow off steam somewhere else. it's just blowing off steam, right? you guess, you can't tend to his needs, not when you're so exhausted and heavy with the pregnancy. and he's a captain, on the fast track to become a general, he deserves this. and it doesn't mean anything, right? it's just his secretary, and a pretty clerk, and a cute office worker, it doesn't mean much.

vs

stalker simon! who went home with you that night, ripping off your dress the moment the two of you made it through the door. you didn't seem to question how he knew exactly which way your bedroom was or where you kept your toys, you were just too consumed by your lust for the mysterious and sexy stranger man before you.

stalker simon! who pulled orgasm after orgasm from you that night, your lips set in an almost permanent o and cunt covered in a glistening sheen of your juices. he watched your face scrunch up at every thrust to your cervix and your tits jiggle with every pump, savouring the close ups. No picture or grainy hidden camera footage had anything on this, the sight of you fucked out right beneath him was a gift granted to him by god for all the suffering he'd had to endure, he was sure of it.

stalker simon! who'd practically milked himself dry that night, filling and stuffing your poor cunny with his fat cock and milky cum. Every thrust of his cock was met with your background vocals, mewling and pleading for more. And who was he to deny you your pleasure? He savoured every sound that fell from your lips and every arch of your back, fucking in and out of you till his dick was practically chafing, he didn't want it to end.. and it never would as long as he had anything to say.

stalker simon! who always had a trick up his sleeve, a sneaky cunning little plan. He was oh so happy he’d replaced all your birth control with placebos a couple of weeks back, his plan being setting in motion long ago. he'd planned on perhaps a less intimate and direct approach... but who was he to say no when you'd been served on a platter, clad in a too-short dress right for him to eat. he knew pumping you full of his sticky semen tonight was bound to take, he was a very virile man after all.

stalker simon! who didn't end up staying the night, even if he wanted to. he needed to create a bit of mystery a bit of angst for his plan to work... and he could watch you, pants down from the comfort of his room anyways.

stalker simon! who went home long before you awoke, watched the tapes of you two fucking making love and fisted his cock at the sight. he filed and encrypted them for only his (and his equally filthy friends) eyes to see.

stalker simon! who a couple weeks later watched you, on the bathroom cameras, as you took the test. Positive.

stalker simon! who knew it was time to step up and be a daddy, to the two of you. there was no way you'd be getting rid of him now, never getting out of his tightly wound clutches and sharp jaws.

stalker simon! who accidentally bumped into you at the pharmacy and acted oh so surprised when you told him the news...

taglist: @popppylove @marimoares @havoc973 @jmivenus @rerejunebug @helichopter @bakedpotato12 @viscade @vanillarosekiss @punkkture

✶ pairing › olderbf!ghost x reader x könig.

✶ warnings › age gap (reader is in her 20s), cucking, oral sex, penetration, creampie, slight yaoi if you squint, praise, cheating, choking (with dick… u’ll see).

✶ a/n › not particularly fond of the way this was written. enjoy.

“ah, ah,” he tapped your cheek, your pouty lips wrapped around his thick cock. “wider, like i taught you,” he bucks his hips up into your mouth gently, his calloused thumb massaging your chin as your warm, sticky saliva dripped down your neck and onto his old floorboards.

it’s not your fault you’re inexperienced. he’s your third boyfriend but he’s, by far, the biggest. he’s just so thick and you can’t take him like you want to.

his cock tapped against your lips twice before he pulls back, tucking his dick into his boxers. “do i really have to teach you everythin’, doll?” he cocked his head deliberately, making your stomach drop with embarrassment.

he finished zipping his pants before walking to your living room, you hear him dial a few numbers before the phone rings.

tf141 x tiger quoll!reader

Word Count: 713

Warnings: none

Summary: you aren't what the team expected for a hybrid named after a big cat, in fact they are starting to suspect something might be wrong with you

A/N: if you don’t know what a tiger quoll is please look it up!!!! It’s literally my favourite animal ever, they are so cool and adorable and I used to work with them (along with many other Australian species) so ask me questions and I will happily info dump

main masterlist

The 141 had been looking for a feline hybrid to join the team for quite some time, needing someone with the agility and stealth that the team are lacking.

Don’t get me wrong, the 141 are plenty inconspicuous, but they are limited by their size. A Komodo dragon, painted dog, vulture and sun bear hybrid are not exactly small species which can pose some issues when it comes to “quiet” approaches to breaching buildings, not like they can sneak in through any air vents, leaving them with often limited options.

Cue Price stumbling across your file when assessing potential recruits. The word tiger immediately catches Price’s eyes, he skims down to the key descriptions on your file. Night vision, adept climber, something about being an “Australian wild cat”, seems like a great fit.

Of course the team greet you on your arrival, taking in the bright eyes, whiskers and long tail you sport. Your ears are on the smaller size than they’ve seen in a feline hybrid before but every subspecies is slightly different so they don’t pay much mind. Cute is the word they would use to sum you up, not exactly the fierce tiger they were expecting.

After the brief introduction the team lets you head off to the barracks to settle in, sharing a fleeting look between them conveying their slight doubt at your ability, your not exactly intimidating to look at, but they’ll give you a chance to prove yourself before they move you on and look for someone else.

However as the first week unfolds the four of them start to get the sense that there’s something just… off about you.

You who seem to be almost hyper alert, even skittish. Disappearing from the common room quicker than Soap can process when he accidentally knocks a mug off the bench with his tail.

Who always seems to stretch “wrong” when warming up to spar with Gaz, instead of doing the typical cat like stretch you do it almost the opposite, stretching your back forwards with your legs elongated behind you. When Gaz brings it up you just shrug it off, saying it’s just what feels comfortable.

You, whose smell is weirdly earthy and almost bitter when Price picks up your scent when flicking out his forked tongue. Usually cat hybrids smell almost sweet to him, but then again he’s not met enough to know if all cats smell the same.

You, who when siting across from Ghost in the mess stretches your mouth open to yawn, except your jaw widens further than it should, and your teeth are sharper than any cat he’s ever met. You meet Ghost’s concerned expression with a raised brow, a silent question that goes unanswered as he focuses back on his meal, feathers rustling uncomfortably.

Your eyes are too small, your tail is too long, you move too erratically. All little things but they lead to the team feeling on edge.

It all finally comes to a head when you’re sent on a mission together. Those cat like skills do prove useful as you scale a tree and slink onto a warehouse roof without issue. The mission seems to go almost perfectly in fact, the team get in quickly and quietly with your help. They clear out rooms with minimal cross fire. In fact, despite your slight oddness, this might be the thing that convinces them you’re the right fit for the task force.

That is until a hostile somehow gets the jump on Soap, tackling him to the floor. Your response is to launch onto the enemy’s back, sinking your sharp teeth into the base of his skull, a sickening crunch sounding in the room as the man goes limp.

You step back from the body, hauling Soap to his feet before wiping the blood off your face onto your sleeve. The team stare at you wide eyed with a mixture a fear and slight admiration.

“Cat’s aren’t supposed to have that strong a bite force.”

You look up to meet Ghost’s gaze, frowning slightly at his words.

“Good thing I’m not a cat.”

There’s gonna be some serious confusion to work out when they all get back to base but the team knows one thing, they’ve officially found their new member.

Of course bb, tysm <33

Platonic Yandere 141 - Civilain

Being caught in the middle of a war zone was never fun, surviving it wasn’t fun either. The streets were dead silent, blood and bodies littered the streets.

You were caked in your own blood, you had a bad gash on the side of your head, you had hit your head faster, you were blown back by a shockwave.

Some sort of explosion had gone off nearby you when everything started. You had been knocked out, it looked like you were dead. You’re lucky to be alive right now.

Your eyes flutter open, your head aches, and you can barely push yourself up onto your elbows. The world spins around, your vision tunneling, ears ringing.

“Ow..” you mumble, feeling your head, you feel something wet and warm. You pull your hand back to look at what you touched. Your fingers are red with your own blood.

You hear gunshots in the distance, and your adrenaline overtakes your confusion. You crawl towards a still intact wall, pulling yourself over the road and you curl against the wall, hands over your ears. The gunfire isn’t that close, but it’s still very loud.

You need to do something about your head, you need to stop the bleeding, it’s running down the side of your head and into your clothes, it’s not a lot, but it’s enough.

You take off your jacket, wincing as you bend your arm a weird way. Fuck, is your arm broken…?

You don’t have the stomach to look as you peel your jacket off of your other arm. You take a corner of the fabric in between your teeth and you tear your jacket into strips.

You need to bandage your head and arm before the adrenaline wears off, or else you might not be able to bandage your wounds due to the pain.

You make a DIY pressure bandage for the wound on the side of your head, bunching up a strip of fabric, pressing it against the wound, and then finally wrapping another strip around your head to hold it in place.

You swallow, you need to take care of your arm now. Your face is pale and clammy, you are on the verge of passing out, but you need to push through this.

You flinch at the sound of more gunfire, closer this time. It’s so loud, it jerks you out of your daze. You shakily grab a piece of shattered wood, it’s long enough and straight enough to use as a splint.

You let out a noise of pain as you set your arm against the wood, you wrap it up tightly, you don’t want it to move at all. You cradle the wounded limo to your chest when you finish.

You curl into yourself tighter, as you hear more gunfire, an explosion in the distance. You can’t hear any screams, it’s like there is nobody left.

You close your eyes tightly, trying to make yourself small as you hear shuffling footsteps coming from down the alley behind the wall you are currently hiding behind.

You bite your tongue as you hear the cock of a gun and more footsteps.

“Anyone yet?” One voice murmurs, British. The familiar accent doesn’t soothe your fears of being killed.

“No one alive. Really cleared everyone out, huh?” Another voice says grimly, another British accent, you hear them shuffling around.

“We should go North.” The first voice suggests, “that’s where the highway out of the city is. More civvies heading that way.”

“Hm.. only thing we can really do..” the second voice reluctantly agrees. You panic. You’re so discombobulated, you don’t know which way is which. What if North is right by you? What if they see you?

They shuffle around the wall and you hear them pause right beside you. You can’t bring yourself to look at them, they definitely saw you.

“Found one, Roach.” You hear them step right in front of you, he slings his rifle over his back.

“Check their pulse first.” Gaz tells Roach, keeping watch as Roach kneels down in front of you. He takes off his glove and he pries his way through your hunched shoulders to the pulse point on your neck.

“Alive.. probably in shock.. head injury.. broken arm.” Roach mumbles, listing all of your injuries so that he can remember all of them.

“We need to move. See if they’ll walk with us.” Gaz checks around the wall, making sure that no one has followed them.

“Hey.. kiddo.. can you hear me?” He tries to use a soothing voice. You find yourself nodding a little bit into your knees.

“Can you stand?” He asks, already prepared to carry you anyway. You probably won’t walk fast enough in your state. He sighs when you don’t respond.

His arms slide underneath you, picking you up. He holds you with one arm, under your thighs, and the rest of you is leaning on his shoulder.

“Ow..” you mumble as he picks you up, the moment moving your broken arm.

“Sorry.” Roach mumbles, already moving. Gaz leads with his rifle drawn, checking around every corner and every doorway. Roach has his hand on his hand gun, ready to fire if need be.

“Gonna take you somewhere safe, yeah?” Roach murmurs to you, he goes silent as he hears his team in his earpiece. You’re close enough to faintly hear the words.

“Update… location…” is all you can really hear, you’re so tired, every step he takes sends a jolt of pain through your arm.

“Traveling north on 16 and 6, one civvie, head injury and broken arm. Over.” Roach says into his earpiece, he is still aware of his surroundings. He holds your head down when they pass by anything less than pleasant. Dead bodies and pools of blood. He doesn’t really want you to see any of that.

Gaz and Roach lead you to safety, an armoured military van. There are probably more people inside.

“Outside.” Gaz says into his earpiece, the back door of  the van opens, there are more people inside.