she/her || adult || sansa stark stan || team rhaenicent || martha jones defense squad || poet || dancer || space enthusiast || was mod lyra over at @pastelog || queen of angst || pro-choice, the only real "pro-life" movement there is || SALS || shitpost tag: #fuckin nerd || personal tag: userrgd || OC tag: rosegold ocs || icon by love-like-poetry || header by cobalt-beam || current brainrot: CoD men ||
Price not wanting his daughter to get into truble at the club so he lets the boys watch over her.
So now you have three military bodyguards that murder every guy with their eyes the moment they get close to you.
You don´t notice that though. You only want to have some fun with your girls.
The three men notice when you´ve had enough to Drink and should go home.
Gaz walks over to your giggling form that is talking to a random guy that approched you after your Friends left and even after your guarddogs tried to kill them with their eyes.
"We have to go now, sweetheart." Kyle puts his hand on your back and turns your body into him.
You giggle while resting your forehead against his chest.
The rando tries to interupt but Simon is already shoving him back and turning away from him to focus on you.
Johnny gets to the group after paying your bill.
"Come on bonnie, we need to go" Johnny takes your other side, wraps his arm around you and thats how Kyle and him get you out of the club.
Simon follows after making sure that none of your friends are still in the club, cause he knows you wouldn´t leave them behind when you could bring them home too.
The men get you to the car and that while your walking on your own.
Your hands are holding Johnnys and Kyles and you playfully let them swing around.
"can we get ice Cream?" you look at the three with a pout and they all immediatly know they will have to get to McDonalds now. None of them can say no to the girl they all three shouldn´t be atracted to.
price could be an asshole sometimes, he knew it. and you knew it too. he always made you cry during arguments, storming out of your shared place by slamming the door and only coming home the next morning with an apology and some flowers.
you always forgave him, much to his surprise.
but today was different, he had been really mean and price knew that he messed up badly this time. he hated how he could be when angry.
"i forgive you" price eyes looked up to you, a hint of hope in it.
"are ya serious ?" he asked with his rough voice, his heart beating a little faster. he released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding when you nodded yes. you opened your mouth, "one condition" you looked at the floor, "I want to spend one night with lieutnant riley." price cringed at the way you said his name, bliking at you with big incredulous eyes.
"she really said tha' ?" price hated simon's smug smirk, the man visibly flattered by his captain's woman's wish. "who am I to disappoint the missus"
price hated even more watching you and simon have sex, even though he insisted on being here.
your body was smashed against the mattress, the bed hitting the wall as the lieutnant's hips roughly pounded into you. you were enjoying it, john knew by the loud moans that were uncontrollably leaving your mouth. he saw how you tried to hide it at first, probably in order to not make your husband insecure ; however as simon fucked you dumb, you became a moaning and drooling mess.
price clenched his jaw as he watched you both make out, he couldn't help but observe intently how simon's angry cock would thrust in and out of your pink pussy, all slick with the previous orgasms you had.
"gonna cum..." you whimpered pathetically as you shut your eyes, your nails piercing the lieutnant's back. a whimper escaped you as you felt simon's hand come rub your clit to help you climax, the delicious feeling making your toes curl.
after you came, price watched you lay on your shared bed, completely cock drunk. he completely ignored the cocky expression simon had on his face.
"next time don't be a dickhead, captain" price mentally cursed as the lieutnant walked out of the room, enjoying the situation too much for his liking.
Painfully shy reader getting absolutely obliterated drunk at the pub, losing all sense of timidity, and telling Gaz and Soap "I bet the reason Ghost actually hides his face is 'cause he knows everybody'd wanna sit on it".
Ghost overhearing, leaning over your shoulder, and letting you know "I'm just keeping your seat clean until you're ready to sit on it, love".
Obviously Simon fucks the embarrassment out of you the next day, but only after making sure you get your reserved seat nice and wet.
thinking about shane who in his late 30’s discovers that he might be autistic and kind of freaks out about it because he’s already the gay hockey player and the asian hockey player he doesn’t also want to be the autistic hockey player with all the negative stereotypes it comes with but he finally confides in ilya one day and says i think i might have autism and ilya gives him a soft look and says yes i think maybe you do and at first shane gets a little angry at ilya because why does it seem like you knew? how did you know? why didn’t you tell me? and ilya says because i think you deserve to figure out how you feel without me plantning ideas in your head and no matter what you would still be my shane, trying to be all sweet about it and shane gives him a careful look and asks is that why you haven’t turned on the overheard light in 2 years and ilya sighs and nods
Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a simple, plain man. Meaning he hates spending money on himself unless it's absolutely necessary, this man has thousands in the bank because he just doesn't spend it.
That's why Simon loves high maintenance women, specifically you. He loves that you get your hair done every month, loves that you get your nails done, eyelashes, facials, pedicures. God he absolutely loves providing for his woman.
The only problem is that you're not used to spending other people's money. You work, and you work hard for your money.
"Bye Si. I'll see you later," you shouted as you put your shoes on, just about to head out the door.
"Where you going love?"
That made you stop and slowly turn to face Simon. "I've got my nail appointment today." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. You had wrote it on the calendar.
"Hm and who's paying?"
"Um... Me?"
"Guess again," Simon was already in front of you, placing his bank card between your cleavage.
"Simon."
"Don't 'Simon' me," he mumbled as he kissed your forehead. "You know the rules. You look pretty and I pay for it." And you couldn't argue because Simon smacked your arse before pushing you out the door and locking it.
Oh, and don't bother trying to pay. Simon already took your credit card.
who’d taken a vow of celibacy. He’d spent years taming his desires, abstaining not only from sex but also from any dreams of love. His place was in the church, serving god and the people.
When he met you, he didn’t fall in lust. No, it was a slow-burn. You were a new nun, and he spent time settling you in and keeping an eye out for you. You’d chatter with him about every little thing. You were talkative and honest, and Simon never found himself tired of listening. It was barely noticeable, the way he inclined himself towards you. It didn’t show; but it was present in the way he suggested the garden walls be painted your favorite color, the way he planned meals so you’d get enough nutrition, the way he nearly broke the face of a man who harassed you and no one had ever seen the usually gentle giant be this furious.
He spent months trying to convince himself he was just perhaps better friends with you. It wasn’t until you were about to transfer to another parish that he realized he was head over heels.
But Simon was barely certain you felt the same way about him. And he knew your devotion well enough to know you’d never break your vows even if you did. So once more, he crucified his flesh and dreams to bury himself into the ministry. He spends his life having lost you.
VS
Incubus Simon, and you’re his latest target. He sets out in disguise to seduce you. Your libido has never been higher, enhanced by his powers. He’ll take your body— again and again, in every corner of your house, tempting you to indulge in fornication and filth till you’ve both had your full— though what he really wants is your soul. He convinces himself it’s just about the lust. It’s about his demon nature and his need to claim you for hell.
Never mind that his eyes stray from your pussy to your eyes instead. Never mind he feels his heart flutter and flatline, wishing you’d gaze into his instead of squeezing them shut in pleasure. Never mind that his hips slow and gentle, and he tells you it’s because he needs a break but really it’s because he’s taken by the urge to make love instead. Never mind that instead of torturing your soul, he does everything in his power to make you happy.
Time passes, and he still hasn’t returned to hell. There’s a ring on his finger that pairs with yours, and identical wrinkles around his body and yours. When you die, he forfeits your soul that he’d claimed years back, because doing so means you’ll be in heaven where an angel like you deserves to be. He’s willing to be battered and stripped of his status in hell if that’s what it takes to make sure you’re okay. He spends eternity looking up at you and savoring every hint of you he can get from afar. Your memories are wiped of your time with him, and you’re perfectly happy. His souls wilts and withers. his fate is to spend eternity having lost you.
✩ how you became könig’s penpal and how he fell in love with you
✩ please like and reblog if you enjoyed! if this gets enough support, i’ll make it into a series!
✩ it all started when your therapist suggested ways to overcome your social anxiety
✩ you've always been terrified of social situations, constantly afraid of being judged and humiliated by others.
✩ you'd dread events for weeks, going through every scenario in your head where things could go wrong, turning every social event into a disaster before it had even begun.
✩ and when you're actually there? the disaster becomes true.
✩ you tremble and stutter through conversations while avoiding eye contact at all costs
✩ eventually, your nausea and your racing heartbeat becomes too much, and you escape to either run home or have a panic attack, whichever one comes first.
✩ even then, there's no salvation: you reflect on every moment, noting every single cringeworthy detail, creating your own punishment that was personally designed to render your self-esteem non-existent.
✩ it's so embarrassing…
✩ after months of isolating yourself, staying home instead of going outside and humiliating yourself again, you get online therapy sessions.
✩ the therapist suggests a way to start talking to people again: a penpal program organised by the army where you send a soldier a letter.
✩ she said the letters would be less stressful than in-person or online conversations since there was no pressure to respond immediately
✩ a soldier? seriously?!
✩ telling a soldier, who risks their life every day, that you get a panic attack talking to strangers?
✩ your dignity would crumble to dust!
✩ what you didn't know was that that there was an awkward austrian soldier who perfectly understood your struggles.
‘Hi,’
✩ no - too casual…
'Hello,’
✩ better. to whom it may concern? far too formal. just a simple 'hello' will do.
✩ you introduce yourself and write how you hope they're ok. actually, that's too friendly.
‘I hope this letter finds you well’
✩ that's good... what next? should you talk about yourself? what do you say? should you mention the social anxiety? no way - that's too personal for the first letter. you’re strangers, so just keep it surface level.
✩ you write about how you saw an advert for the penpal program and decided to join. a lie, but there's no need to tell the truth yet.
✩ you write that you appreciate the work that they do even though you don't fully know what it entails. that's true, at least.
✩ you think about what you could say about yourself.
✩ your life isn't exciting - you've spent months at home doomscrolling and watching tv.
✩ that's it! you could talk about what television shows and movies you like! wait, would they even have time to watch stuff?
✩ maybe on their time off! yes! plus, even if they don't, it gives you more to talk about! you’re a genius!
✩ you write about your viewing habits and get into a flow, giving your opinions and personal recommendations. you ask if they get to watch much, or if they prefer other hobbies, which smoothly transitions into a short paragraph about your own hobbies.
✩ it’s short since you can only do so much from your own home, but again, there's no need to mention that yet.
✩ alright, this is going great! now, how to sign it off?
‘I hope to hear from you soon,’
✩ sounds too eager... puts pressure on them to write back as well...
'There's no pressure to respond. I can imagine how busy your work can get, so it's ok if you don't have time to write back.
All the best,'
✩ you write your name and triumphantly slam your pen down on your desk with a grin big enough to be seen from space
✩ you read through your letter before carefully folding it and delicately sliding it into an envelope. you write the envelope, stick a postage stamp in the corner and send that bad boy!
✩ you’re on cloud nine for a while after that. however, after a month goes by with no reply, your anxiety rears its annoying, ugly head.
✩ what if your handwriting was too messy? what if they found you embarrassing? what if they laughed at your letter and threw it in the bin? what if they showed the letter to their army comrades and laughed at it together?
✩ why did your therapist suggest doing this? this is TORTURE!
✩ on the other side of the world, however, a supremely tall soldier curls himself onto his cramped army bed and reads your letter over and over with a smile that grows every time he reads it.
✩ he promptly opens up his notebook and flips to a blank page to start writing his reply:
'Hello,
My name is König...’
✩ i had to type all this out again bc tumblr ate the original post! :)
✩ i tried to give the reader more personality, i hope that comes through in the writing!
✩ again please like and reblog if you enjoyed! i really appreciate your support <3
den of depravity lol @rosegold-darling - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
