So... I have somehow accumulated followers 😀 I'm over 40 and have a range of interests as you can see. These days my posts seem to involve sex and/or Mr. Cavill or Stucky or COD. There's miscellaneous items to keep you guessing. Will it be kittens? Will it be deranged smut?
This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!
you don’t know why you thought simon would be a cocky fuck.
maybe it was how cool and collected he always was. that hot, quiet confidence.
if only you knew when you’d finally got him into bed. ready for him to be rough, to be a little mean, not that you’d mind.
in reality, he was whining into your neck as he pumped into you at a primal speed. whispering and mumbling half words into your throat as he groped you anywhere he could. his eyes were rolled and he was drooling on your collarbone.
“o-oh.. oh, fuck- nghhhuhh… yyeah?.. awww… my baby.. gonna fill y-you… mhm…”
sweet little brain-numb nothings falling of the tongue of the smartest, coldest man you know.
and you could’ve cum just from the sight when he lifted his head and started actually panting and pathetically stuttering his hips against yours like a mutt.
summary: your long-time pal, simon, gets his rut set off on a mission and you were ordered to take care of him now that he was back, with your presumably passive pheromones...
word count: 830
content warning: omegaverse, ruts, simon begging to fuck you, and vulgar language. reader is also gn!
a/n: HELLOo!!1 this is my first ever fic, if you see this, please read it and give me kind feedback, bc idk what im doing!!! yay!
long term teammates, tolerable conversation, a perfectly adequate, non romantic relationship.
that's what you and Simon had.
you'd known the alpha for years at this point, you had met before the task force, both serving as young sergeants in the SAS . it was an acquaintanceship, passing comments over comms or emailing documents for superiors.
when you'd both been invited into the task force for a secret operative (that turned into multiple), it became something closer. something more subtlety intimate and tension filled. whether it was sharing MREs wordlessly or quietly smoking together behind crumbling buildings, you did it together, and no one was allowed to say a word.
meanwhile, scents and primal urges were never a real problem between you two thanks to the uniform scent blockers and his seemingly obvious un-attraction to you. not like you cared... he was hot, of course, smoking hot. but you had gotten used to alphas preferring omegas.
on your second year in the task force, hed been placed in a simple in-and-out opp in south America. once hed gotten back he started getting more agressive and territorial, even pacing outside your door at night? when price found out hed been scented by a bolivian con-woman he was banished to his quarters until he was civilised. you, being the only beta on the team, were asked to use your scent to neutralise his rut urges, a common request for betas, being the mediator and all. but seeing him in such a viscous (horny) state (even if it turned you on), upset your instincts. so you also made time to help your poor simon bathe and rest and hydrate.
a knock was placed on his door with your forehead as you carefully balanced two trays of tuck from the mess hall, his one being significantly heavier, making you wobble. "hrmph.." you heard him grumble from inside, he sounded like an agitated dog.
"don't start, I'm being so good to you." a firm acknowledgement as you carefully manoeuvred the door open whilst balancing the trays of semi-hot food. he shuffles in bed, covering his nude lower half and peevishly glaring at you from amongst the covers and sheets before sitting up to eat.
the room was moist, and the smell that lingered wasn't something you wanted to think about Simon doing, so you focused on giving him the food and cutlery. you gave him water, ran a bath, tidied up his quarters, and you ended your pottering by opening a window as he finished eating. you cleared your throat and looked at the huge miserable man, who was already piercing his eyes through your head. "you okay, si? need anything else? you look super fucked out."
"tired. horny. angry. no. thank you."
"mhm, your welcome. you're sure you dont need anything else? i can scent you to help with the pain?-"
he grumbled again, low in his chest. the sound flipped your stomach and made a heat crawl up your spin. 'ew? no? now you want to fuck him? when he's acting like a rapid dog?? you're sick.' you mentally scolded yourself as he writhed around uncomfortably in the sheets further before answering truthfully this time.
"all i can smell is you, luv. and its not neutralising shite. i feel like a horny mutt ‘round ye." he whimpered, the most embarrassed you’ve seen him look.
you froze in place awkwardly, standing stiffly at the end of his bed by the window. you hardly thought before retorting, its like your brain didn't even want to process what he'd said whilst stumbling out a petulant reprimand and avoiding the hot eye-contact he was forcing. "nah… beta scents can't make you horny, i think its just your hormones talking-"
"you’re so pretty, wish i could smell ye all the time… wish you’d let me do what i need to, i’ll be so good.." he shuttered as he mumbled, voice course from whining and growling into his pillow for days. you stood frozen in the middle of the hot, sex perfumed room. your face was flushed and your insides were tingly, you don't think you've ever been this pitiful in your life.
he was hunched over himself, still, peering at you like a predator through those midnight eyes. you'd never felt like prey before as a beta. his short, choppy, blonde hair was messy and arousing but less entertaining as your eyes trailed down his plump pecs and solid biceps. his tummy and champagne happy trail protruded slightly and the moist bedsheets were bunched at his abdomen, hardly covering his unrelenting erection.
"you’re being dramatic… you’re not into me like that anyway-" never have you been so flustered and visibly pathetic in your life. you tried to reason with yourself aloud on his behalf when he cut you off. "i am. have been for a long time. can you ‘least sit on my face?… please.. i need this.. you…” he let out a whiny please and fluttered his pretty eyelashes at you…
a/n: okayyyy... i think thats fine... depending on the reaction i get from this i might post the smut
Your Lieutenant who routinely disappears every night on base. It's not completely weird or anything, the man did have a strict regimen, but really? Every night? A bit over-kill no? Maybe he always got an early night, which you could respect
Your Lieutenant who also refused to eat anything in the mess, or touch his mre's whilst on ops. Maybe he wasn't a fan of lifting his mask and eating in front of others? Regardless, you didnt press, all it meant was more apple crumble for you
Your Lieutenant who is always covered up on every single op, even on base, even during a heatwave! You understood not wanting to show skin but wasn't this too much? You were worried about him overheating, but he seemed fine.
Your Lieutenant who seems to be up all hours of the night, always in his office, always available for a debrief or a meeting, and never tired after an op, and seemed like he had endless stamina to train.
You, who finds him to be admirable, so dedicated to the cause and motivated all the time.
One night, you decided to head to his office to ask him to give you tips! Hes your Lieutenant afterall.
You, who walks in on Ghost, in his office, stripped down to briefs, on the floor, mask off, fangs out as he bit into and sucked on a pre prepared blood bag, panting and heaving as he made a mess.
"S-sergeant-" Ghost growled out, his eyes glowing a faint shade of red as he spotted you. God, you looked delicious...
i was training a young person at work, and she referred to sexual assault as "SA" out loud, and i immediately was like, "no, it's sexual assault, call it what it is," bc idgaf if the algorithm overlords have taught y'all that you should fear direct language, how tf do any of you expect to ever address real issues with any amount of seriousness if you can't even say the words? imagine an advocate looking a sexual assault survivor in the eyes and asking "did he grape you?" it's absolutely fucking absurd, but these young interns and new hires are coming into an environment where we deal with survivors of all different kinds of abuse, and they're coming with the mindset that the words are as bad as the actions, and that makes them shitty at the job and look juvenile af
i HATE self-censorship for a lot of reasons, but being in crisis work makes it even more frustrating. who are you censoring for? like i am being so fr, WHO are you censoring for? have you even thought it through? people who have been raped know that they have been raped. if someone attempts suicide or is grieving someone who did, saying "sewer slide" isn't going to protect them from any of the feelings. a murder victim's family isn't going to feel better bc you said "unalived" instead of murdered. if anything, it's just extremely invalidating and othering. it's saying "what happened to you is so bad that i won't even say the word," which is NOT trauma-informed care. you are not protecting survivors/victims when you self-censor. the ONLY things you protect when you self-censor are the puritanical ideologies that are being encouraged by rich fascists who want your money and obedience
say the fucking words, guys. just say the goddamn words before i go insane!!!
A/N: Very slightly inspired by the movie “Wedding Crashers”. Only the idea of crashing weddings.
Catch up here: They shall speak now… (1)
“I…I,” you nervously stammered. His gaze was too intense to hold, so you looked away. “I didn’t…uh…you looked bored…and…”
“So…” He repeated. “Who are you to decide that I can do better? Do I know you? Have we met before?” His smirk deepened when you shyly tugged at the hem of your dress.
“No! We should go. I’m sorry for interrupting.” You hiccupped, nervously staring at your hands. "Sorry…uh...sometimes my brain is slower than my mouth!” You exclaimed, springing to your feet. Ready to go for a sprint.
Bucky grinned wolfishly. His voice was a little rougher when he said, “That so? We never met, and you still came to my rescue. How did you know I was bored to death?”
“She was joking,” Nia jumped in. You were staring at Bucky, and she feared you’d end up being his next meal if you looked at him for a little longer. “We are leaving. Sorry for the trouble.”
Your friend tried to drag you away, but two bulky guys blocked your path. “She stays,” Bucky said, leaving you trembling. “A woman saving me from a boring life deserves a reward."
Nia froze at Bucky’s commanding tone. “Excuse me?” She managed to say. “She will come with me.”
Bucky laughed at the way Nia protected you. “You’re a cocky one, I see.” He gave a curt nod, and the men stepped aside.
You still didn’t dare to breathe wrong. This man was staring you down after your mishap, and you didn’t know how to talk yourself out of the situation.
“Let’s go,” Nia said, but you remained rooted to the spot. Bucky’s gaze was still on you, and his eyes told you not to move an inch.
“You look like you're planning an escape route.” He joked, his mouth curving upward. “Maybe I should call security back. What do you say?”
“Maybe I’m planning to escape,” you admitted. “I just ruined your wedding ceremony, and you look like someone hiding a gun in their pants.”
He laughed, following your eyes. You were shamelessly staring at his crotch, and he couldn’t hide the glint in his eyes.
“There she is. I feared we lost her.”
You blinked. “What?”
“The cocky woman who told me I could do better.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He recalled your words and hummed. “You’re the only person who told me the truth about the bride and this wedding.”
“That wasn't honesty; it was more like random thoughts escaping my mouth without permission."
“That wasn’t an accident nor random. You wanted to save me from an awful, boring marriage. You’re my savior.”
Nia crossed her arms, trying to look tough. She hid the chill running down her spine when looking at Bucky. “Sir, she apologized. Can we pretend this never happened? Y/N can be impulsive; sometimes she speaks before she thinks. We love her for it.”
Bucky ignored her completely. He set his eyes on you and wouldn’t back down now. How could he? He stopped the ceremony for another woman.
“What did you mean?”
You really didn’t know. “I was thinking you looked stunning in that suit. My brain short-circuited, and then I said what I said. No offense. You looked like you wanted to swallow glass before marrying that woman.”
“That so?” He cocked his head, searching your face.
“Fine!” You said, throwing your hands up. “You looked miserable. A handsome man like you should look happy on his wedding day, not like someone twisted your balls.
Bucky laughed. “No one twisted my balls, doll. No one would dare try.”
“You looked like you wanted to be somewhere else. I know that feeling. Sometimes you must do things that make you miserable. Your wedding shouldn’t be one of these things,” you murmured. “I’d understand if the bride looked miserable. Her dress was a mess.”
“Y/N, don’t.” Nia winced. She was wringing her hands, silently praying to get out of the church alive.
“She’s flashy but pretty. Maybe you’re more into…uh…men?”
“Wow,” Bucky said.
“What?”
“No one's ever said that to me before.”
“Really?”
“Not to my face.”
You giggled. “So…is it true?”
Bucky laughed. “No.”
“Aw, that’s a shame. I have a cute cousin. He’d be your type,” you said.
“I already found someone who’s my type,” he replied, earning a disappointed whine from you.
Nia looked between the two of you suspiciously. “Oh no.” She muttered under her breath.
cw: it started cute and sweet and then horny dammit 😔 reader & 141 reader x ghost idk.
imagine giving the 141 forehead kisses as just like a little thing. Always Kyle and Johnny, so sweet and happy to take them.
Price chuckles and allows it.
Ghost you normally just make a little *smooch* noise in the air above his head.
Well, it seems Ghost didn't appreciate the non-commitment. Because this time he grabs your chin, surprisingly careful with its force, and brings your lips to his, rough fabric of the mask between you.
"All or nothin'," He says. "G'night, sweet'eart."
You don't move, just stand there, above him for a stunned two seconds. You can see the smirk in his eyes though.
And then you scoff. You swing your legs over his and hold his face in both hands, straddling him on the couch. You press your lips against his through the mask again, pressing your tongue against the fabric, tasting the sweat and then his own saliva there as his tongue meets yours. Finally past the startled freeze.
It's over as fast as it starts, pulling your head away as his chases for a moment more.
"Good night." You say, sour-sweet venom on your tongue. "Sweetheart." And push yourself back up.
You feel his eyes on you like a branding iron until you close the door with just enough slam.
While Kate doesn't love providing support over comms, given the stress of the job, it has it moments.
Like hearing a grown man, a sergeant, accidentally kick a step when talking and picking up the quiet mutter, "Aw, ya wee fuckin cunt."
Kyle's softly spoken, "S'a fat pigeon," before he catches himself and focuses on what else is in front of him, obese birds not included.
She comes to recognise John's 'trying not to lose his hat' grumble, rarely followed by his 'hat is now on the ground' grunt.
Simon has an self satisfied huff that he seemingly forgets they can hear when he says something just twisted enough for someone to call him vile, or a dirty bastard.
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