tf141 rookie reader who’s got a normal accent, so they should be easy to understand, right? WRONG. because they speak in Adventure Time lingo. great. now ghost has 2 teammates talking nonsense. ah well, at least it’s funny seeing soap get confused when the rookie says something like “dude almost skronked up my dome piece.”
lol see how he likes it
Speaking riddles
Or when TF141 has... no clue what you're saying
Written as a short Drabble
TW - Cursing and gibberish
They thought it would be easy. Simple. You had a clear, simple accent. American. A bit unpolished, but far better than Simon and Johnny's.
Then you spoke.
"Yo, I'm new to the team," with a firm handshake, then a "I can't wait to get to know all of you."
Ghost slowly turned to look at Price, "Wha the bloody hell are they on abou'?"
It got worse over time...
"Yo, hand me the snowman blood" when you wanted water.
"They nearly koboomed off my thinker" after a near miss to your head.
"You gonna throw that in the vault or do you need a brain healer?" That got you a side eye from Johnny with a "Speak fuckin' English." The irony was not lost on him, especially when Simon scoffed next to him.
Daisy - This was a good step out of my comfort zone, but it was definitely fun! I hope you enjoyed this stilly little piece :p
A/N: Had this halfway done with Ghost having his own standalone, but it turned into something twice as long as the entire fic so I'm shoving that to the WIP pile. Hoping to fulfill another request soon!
John Price: “Hm? Can’t hear you, doll,” John teased, “You didn’t want to talk when I asked about that damn book, so I can’t imagine you’ve got anything important to say now either.”
His fingers tightened in your hair as he bucked up, the back of your throat fighting him with a gag. Your hands were tied behind your back with a length of silk, mouth full of cock while he switched between fucking up into you and moving your head up and down his length. The bed creaked under his movements while the carpet dug into your knees.
You had purchased a historical romance book at your friend’s insistence. She had gushed about how romantic the duke was and how her boyfriend loved to roleplay some of the scenes.
It was alright. The sex scenes were vanilla, the dialogue read like English class, and you didn’t much care about “impropriety” or “the courting season” characters kept blabbing on about. After finishing it—because you’re not a quitter—it was left in the stack of things for donation.
Unfortunately, you had such a lovely husband who liked to keep the house tidy which included cleaning up piles you’d “eventually” get to sorting out.
John was old-school. He didn’t watch porn, kept his wandering eyes in check, and saved all of his insatiable need for you and you alone. Especially because you’d sent him so many slutty videos to watch while he was away.
Why would he bother with any of that when he had you? He thought with his age, he’d start to have problems keeping up with you, but it only took a single flirty bat of your eyelashes before he was bending you over the closest surface.
To see you so blatantly dismiss him by reading about some royal prick made his possessiveness rack up tenfold.
“Did you touch yourself to that filth? Did you take away one of my orgasms and give it to that bullshit?”
You struggled to shake your head when your nose was pressed against the dark hair above his cock. He’d already come down your throat once, hot spurts settling in your belly while some dribbled out your lips, mixed with saliva, just how he likes.
Pressing your thighs together didn’t give you much relief, but he’d given you short lived pleasure after coming, playing with your puffy clit until he was hard again. Then it was right back to drooling and choking on the smoky musk of John’s cock without your own release.
“Course not. You’re a dirty bird and that nonsense didn’t even give you shivers, did it? You like it rough,” John gritted out, “Waste of time; reading books about weak men barely touching their girl, barely giving her what she needs. I just gotta remind you that I know you. You want this. You want me.”
When he pulled you off, he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you gasped for breath before two fingers pressed down on your tongue. He stared straight into your eyes as his other hand fisted his cock.
“And I don’t want some sweet little virgin giving me head like a god damn lolly. I want my sloppy girl gagging for me.”
The two fingers slid to the back of your throat with a groan as he came again. Hot seed splatters over your tongue and face, making sure you never forget his taste, his scent, his ownership.
“Beg me,” he rasps, jerking himself through his orgasm, “Beg me and maybe I’ll let you come.”
“Please, I didn’t even like the book,” You pleaded through pants, “Please, sir, I want to come. Only want you to make me come. Only ever think of you. Of your cock inside of me, sir!”
Price wiped some come off your face, before reinserting his fingers into your mouth, “Suck.”
Your jaw was sore, your lips puffy from the harsh blowjob, but you sucked down his fingers like your life depended on it. Your eyes continued to plead for release and even as you shifted your thighs in desperation, it only made you more needy.
You dared to plead around his fingers, the word garbled, but the emotion clear, "Please let me come, sir."
Price pretended to contemplate your request while sliding his fingers in and out of your mouth. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
He hauled you up by your armpits and threw you back on the bed, pumped his fingers into his pussy that just so happens to be between your legs, and devoured your mouth. His tongue shoved past your lips, devouring every moan and cry.
His beard only heightened the sensitivity, scratching your swollen lips when he bit at your tongue.
Two orgasms later and he’s finally convinced you won’t dare to forget who owns every single tingle of his beautiful pussy.
Gaz let himself into your flat with his newly given key, hoping to surprise you with a clean kitchen and hot cuppa when you came home from work. Your relationship was new, but it had to be going well if you gave him free access to your home, right? He struggled to believe someone as smart, someone as beautiful, someone as perfect, would ever look his way. He would never stop proving himself and praying he could keep you in his life— and bed.
Your bedroom was fairly clean, maybe not by military standards, but your bookshelf was immaculately organized. He didn’t dare touch your pride and joy, not without explicit permission that not even a key would allow. Then he spotted the worn down hardback on your nightstand. Small colored tabs on the top and sides, one in particular caught his eye. A small drawing of a chili pepper? Or a penis? He couldn’t quite tell.
He scoffed when he flipped through the chapter. three pages? That’s all there was before the guy was coming, leaving the girl with a single orgasm, and the characters fell asleep. Why would you want to read about such disappointing sex? He’d just have to remind you why twelve-page sex was so much better.
That’s how you ended up lying on your stomach, ass in the air, while Gaz licked you hole to clit while pumping his fingers into your slick walls.
“Come on, baby…” He gasped, slapping your pussy twice in sharp succession when you stopped reading, “Tell me what bullshit that man is doing while leaving his queen unsatisfied.”
A bookworm by definition and proud self-identification, this series drew you in with politics and worldbuilding more than the sex and romance. It didn’t help that you talked non-stop about it and fell in love when Gaz not only listened but asked questions about the intricacies.
In hindsight, that sounded a lot like when men would say they bought playboy magazines “for the articles”.
You were foolish to think he’d stop after you finished reading the sex scene from the book. There were better, longer, scenes in the book, but it didn’t seem to matter to the man who made every romp into a marathon of pleasure.
“Ngh!” You squeezed your eyes shut, opening them again to read the blurred words on the pillow in front of you, “H-he’s sat at his desk, reviewing bat-battle plans–”
“I’d have you bent over that damn desk.”
“But his thoughts—ah! H-his thoughts were on the hike through the forest with her tomorrow— fuck!”
“If he doesn’t fuck her against a tree, the whole book is going in the bin.”
“He wanted– fuck, I’m gonna-” Your walls clamp when his tongue moves past your pussy and licks you hole to hole. Your arms give out, your face plants into the book, and you let out a strangled moan as you come onto his unceasing fingers.
“That's it. Good girl. Better than some fucking faerie, yeah?”
Drool started to pool onto the pages as you mewled from overstimulation, his tongue pushed deep into your pussy to feel it clench.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you spied your bookshelf, the series that got you into this mess was in a central position. The sensations blurred together, eyes watering as he drove you closer to a climax.
It isn’t until he shattered you a third time that the book was carefully closed and returned to its resting place. He wasn’t a monster. He knew you loved that damn book.
Then he was on you, legs tossed over his shoulders, and his cock disappeared into your pussy in one smooth motion.
“You want me to wear wings, baby? You want me to rip off your corset and fuck you in a meadow? You want me to give you a crown? I’d give you anything. I want you to write a damn trilogy about all the ways I’ve made you come.”
Your hands found purchase on his biceps, nails digging into the muscle as he pounded into you. The headboard crashed into the wall in time with your cries. His dick fit so perfectly inside of you, the perfect amount of stretch and burn that kept you on the edge of losing your senses.
His whispered promises and praise needed to be inked on paper. When you came on his cock, he followed shortly after with your name on his lips; like he was written just for you.
Johnny/Simon: "Happy Birthday, bonnie,” Johnny whispered in your ear when he reached the bedroom door, revealing a present that could never be topped.
On your shared bed, sitting against the headboard in nothing but his boxer briefs was no other than Simon Riley. As you gaped, the heel of his hand slowly palmed the impressive bulge between his legs.
Turning to Johnny, who was sporting a devilish grin, the bastard, “Wh… what–” Your eyes darted back to Simon who was watching the two of you and you could swear his mask twitched into a smirk. “Why is he– How did you–”
“Ach, ye nae slick, bonnie,” He grinned, hand snaking around your waist to pull you to his chest, “Ye go on and on about those books, ah was bound tae learn a wee bit aboot havin’ one lass fer the whole group.”
Before you had the chance to be embarrassed, a warm wall pressed into your back, warm breath muffled behind rough fabric made you shiver when Simon pressed his nose against your neck. “It’s only a gift, love. Neither of us will be upset if you want to return me for store credit.”
“N-no!” You stuttered out, face flushed when Johnny’s hand slipped under your shirt to rub his thumb over your hip bones, “I mean, yes, of course, but are you sure?”
Neither man bothered answering with words. Not when they’d seen how you stiffened when Simon would brush past in a crowded pub. Not when you brought Johnny lunch on base and there would always be an extra dessert with a strongly worded note to share with Simon. The kicker had been when you sheepishly mumbled something about a mask kink, though you clammed up when Johnny excitedly asked if you wanted to try it.
Seems like you were getting several itches scratched tonight.
In a flurry of desperate hands, discarded clothing, and sloppy kisses to your lips and neck, you were left in nothing but your panties you wished were sexier. Johnny wrapped one strong forearm around your waist and hauled you onto the bed, back to chest. His arm slid up to under your breasts, lifting their weight to feel the warm flesh fold over his skin.
Simon stood at the end of the bed to watch you squirm in anticipation. His amber eyes traveled down from your face to your tits, your stomach, and stopped on your closed thighs. A position he would happily change.
“Been tellin’ him jus how sweet ye taste,” Johnny cooed in your ear when Simon kneed onto the bed, crawling like a cat stalking towards a mouse in a trap, “Told him how ye squeal when ma lips suck yer clit, but ye moan when ah sink in yer hot cunt.”
Whimpering, you tensed when Simon’s hands first touched your calves. He slid up with painstaking slowness, his body leaning down as his large hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled them apart.
“Let him ‘ave a wee taste fore we fill ye up proper.” Johnny whispered, helping you lift your hips so Simon can drag your panties down your legs before tossing them somewhere unseen. The mask is pulled up just above his nose and this fucking man licks his lips while staring at your pussy like the doors of heaven opened before him.
You do, in fact, squeal, when Simon licks a long filthy stripe between your folds before his eyes rolled back in his skull.
"Bloody fuckin' hell. Delicious."
Johnny hooked his ankles around your calves, pulling up so Simon could press his face deeper into your throbbing sex. Simon didn’t eat pussy like he was starving, no, this was a man with an oral fixation so strong that he could die between your legs completely satisfied. His tongue was relentless, the tip of it licking around the sides of your labia, the flat warmth when he lapped up the never-ending slick, and when Johnny’s fingers find your neglected nipples, you buck up against the men’s strong hold.
“Ye gettin’ close, bonnie?” Johnny whispered in your ear, his free hand pinching and twisting your nipple while Simon slipped two fingers in your cunt with a growl that vibrated through your whole body. “Come fore him. Let him see whit he’s been missin’.”
That’s all it takes for you to gush over Simon’s tongue, wetting the edge of his mask with slick. Pleasure wracked through your body, legs shaking and toes curling as Simon drew out your orgasm by stimulating the spongy spot inside of you.
Before you could come back to reality, Johnny’s hold on you loosened and you were flopped onto your front, facing the edge of the bed where Simon was pulling his mask back down with a deep inhale. Oh god, he was breathing in the smell of you and if that was the hottest thing you ever saw, it only lasted for a minute before Johnny told you to pull down Simon’s boxers.
“He’s got a nice prick, aye?” Johnny’s now freed cock slicked between your folds, teasing you, “Ah gottae admit, bit of a present for ma too.”
You nodded dumbly, hands dropping back to the mattress to hold yourself up. There was no way to hide it, Simon was big. Thick and long with delicious beads of precum dripping down the shaft and curving past the veins. Gun to your head, you couldn’t tell if he was bigger than Johnny, but together they would split you apart.
Simon tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes which had softened with something akin to lustful concern.
“You want a taste, love?”
A single yes was all the men needed and when they got it, they didn’t hold back. The tip of Simon’s cock barely breached your lips before Johnny slammed into your cunt— the force of which pushed your mouth onto Simon’s cock with a sound so pretty both men had to still before coming like teenagers.
Simon moved first, shallow thrusts that grazed the back of your throat. His hand found your hair, twisting it around his fingers to keep you in place. Johnny’s hips did all the work for both of you. Every punch into your core pushed Simon’s cock deeper into your throat until your lips were stretched thin around his girth. The musky taste was nothing like Johnny, but it made you keen all the same.
They worked in tandem, the synchrony came from years in the field together. Johnny’s hand on your lower back lifted momentarily to smack your ass in quick succession.
“Fuck,” Johnny grunted, “Takin’ us like ye were meant for it.”
Another muffled moan escaped your throat and you could barely register your building orgasm. Simon pulled you off with a wet pop and ran his thumb over your lower lip as you gasped for hair between whines. Johnny pulled your reddened cheeks apart, licking his thumb and pressed it against your other entrance.
Your yelp of shocked pleasure was once against cut off when Simon tugged your hair forward back onto his cock.
“If she keeps winkin’ at me like this,” Johnny growled, pushing his thumb harder until the muscle tensed, “Ah’ll have tae let him split her open next time.”
Next time.
Your second orgasm hit you like a gunshot; your whole body tensed for one wonderful moment before wave after wave off bliss ran through you. Your walls clenched down on Johnny’s cock, your body desperate for him to fill you.
Simon took the opportunity to slip further down your throat, pushing past a weak gag reflex to feel every moan roll through his cock like lightning.
“I’m gonna come, love, gonna take every drop?” Simon growled, his free hand lifting your chin while his other hand loosened on your hair, giving you every chance to back out.
The very idea was abhorrent, you wanted it all. You wanted both of them to stay inside you and claim you. There wasn’t room for embarrassment or worry when they were filling you so perfectly. You could hardly remember why you were so horny when you read those damn books, nothing could compare to the real thing.
Your tongue caressed the underside of Simon’s cock in permission.
Johnny’s hand snaked underneath you, finding his target with ease and rubbing tantalizing circles over your clit. Overstimulation bleeding into a tight coil threatening to spring you over another cliff. You felt movement above you, both men shifting slightly. When you looked up, Simon’s hand gripped the back of Johnny’s neck as his mask was pushed up by Johnny’s fingers. They were locked into a desperate kiss of teeth and tongues.
Now that is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
The climax nearly collapsed you, whiting out your vision and mind in a rush. You were too blissed out to notice Simon’s thick seed shooting down your throat, but you swallowed out of instinct, milking every spurt.
Johnny followed shortly behind, head thrown back with a sinful cry of pleasure and claim. Both men twitched and held themselves deep, electric shocks ran through your body as if they were connected. When they pulled out, your arms gave way and you dropped to the mattress in a panting sweaty heap.
Johnny leaned down to breathlessly kiss along the nape of your neck, “Such a good girl fer us.”
Simon came back from a disappearance you didn’t notice with warm cloths to wipe you all down. Eventually, you settled between them with a foggy mind and pleasantly sore body.
“Ah ken ye would love yer present,” Johnny held you from behind, stroking your sides, while you curled up to Simon’s side.
“You were amazing, love,” Simon rumbled, kissing your forehead through the mask, “Better than I ever imagined.”
You hummed, trying to string a sentence together that showed your gratitude and satisfaction, “When’s your birthday, Simon?”
Because those two words from Johnny still rang in your head:
Next time.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I cherish every single like, comment, and reblog. My AO3 is @sleepysoapy.
Just thinking of your poll and the option for Tf141 finding the reader’s romance books is such a fun (and potentially hot) idea.
It’s got me imagining what genres of romance she might read and wondering how the guys would react to finding some really spicy ones like reverse harem (cue poly!141 gangbang?) or even monster smut lol
Edit: Here it is!
Hi hi hi!
I'm posting something loosely based on this here soon. I really loved your idea of basing it on different genres.
While I love monster fucking, I'm no good at writing it yet. And while you won't get the whole 141 having their own blurb... Well, I'm incapable of not including Ghoap in my fics. 🤭
Also I wrote another part of this fic earlier, but it turned into a 2k fic when I was only halfway done, so it's going to be its own one shot here soon.
TOXIC!SIMON AND BALLERINA!READER who met through her brother who's on the same task force unit. their parents died in a car crash the day he came home from deployment and TOXIC!SIMON helped them with the funeral arrangements.
BALLERINA!READER who fell in love at first sight, looking at the yummy, huge man in her home, just wanting to have him wrap her in his arms and soothe her pain. TOXIC!SIMON who saw the perfect victim, taking his mask off for her in private to reel her in, cradling her thin frame as she wept.
TOXIC!SIMON who got her number quickly and would check in regularly, asking her if she needs help with anything. who began sending her flowers and little notes of hope, carving his initials into her heart.
TOXIC!SIMON who loves overseeing her practice, telling her just how terrible she is and reaffirming all of her fears and insecurities. BALLERINA!READER who just wants to be good enough - for him and those around her, but even her brother finds her insufferable. TOXIC!SIMON who, despite it all, is super impressed by her skill and relentless need to never give up.
TOXIC!SIMON who starts fights just to watch her cry, his cock hardening in his briefs at the sight of her brokenness. TOXIC!SIMON who just can't help but make it all better as he coos at her while tugging her onto his lap, giving her the warmest, most gentle kisses, and making her go dumb on his cock.
CN: nsfw, probably mdni, not too explicit but still
Not sure how I feel about this part but here we are.
John had to admit, that he didn't anticipate how perfectly you fit between all of them. It was meant to be a distraction, a way to wind down, to think of something other than all the bad in the world, without compromising the integrity of the task force. And yet, here you were, spread out on your bed, Johnny and Simon each on one side, working you up again in tandem or competition. Like a gift from whatever god still had mercy with their souls.
An idea was forming in his mind, but it was something better talked about sober, not when you were still high and on the way to be fucked brainless, at least if Johnny got his way.
"I thought the whole point of this was less thinking, sir?"
He didn't look up when Gaz placed a bottle of water next to the armchair Price had taken. Perfectly positioned to watch you squirm under the ministrations of his men. It fed something primal inside Price, a beast that he thought was satified with what they had. Apparently not. He wondered how far you would allow him to control your pleasure. If you would allow him, he had to remind himself.
"Penny for your thoughts? Although, I think I can guess it. They fit almost too well."
Gaz climbed onto his lap grinding against the raging boner Price hadn't even bothered to hide again. "This escalated in a way I was not expecting, but I am not complaining."
Breath caught when strong hands grabbed his ass and pressed him closer. "See something you want?"
"Nothing I don't already have, Sir." He gently pressed a kiss onto his Captain's lips.
"Is that so? Are you not worried they can give me something more? Look at them. Trusting us so completely. High and desperate, so easy to lead. I wonder how far we could go..."
"And how far would you want to go, Sir?" His voice was low and heated, still grinding his hips against Price.
"I want them to trust us. Fully. To know that even if I was putting a gun to their head, they are still trusting me. Just like you do."
John felt the shudder moving through Kyle. A need the younger man had tried to ignore until Price showed him that being submissive in one particular situation didn't mean he was weak or less capable as a specialist.
You were blissfully unaware of that quiet conversation, all you could think about was how good Simon's fingers felt. Slipping in and out your wet pussy, playing with your folds, a thumb circling your clit every now and then. Not urgent, just enough to keep you on edge. And feeling Johnny's lips and teeth over your throat, your breasts, teasing in the same slow way. You could feel Simon's cock through his pants, pressing against your hip. But when you tried to pull Johnny closer as well, Simon stopped you.
"Not yet, he has ta earn it. Don't ye, Johnny?"
"Is that so? But why?" You were slightly confused. But now that you thought about it, there was a certain dynamic that you hadn't noticed before. It was normal for teams like the 141 to have a strong hierarchy, necessary in the field. And some of it usually bled into their private time. But this...
"Captain Price, I think you forgot to mention something, when I asked about your boundaries."
Price had not looked away from you and grinned when your brain put together the new information. Much sober now, but still relaxed. Still trusting.
"Apologies. It wasn't important at the time and it doesn't change much."
Not much... But you felt a spark growing inside you. Maybe the idea of something that you never put a name to but had been looking for.
"With all respect, I think it is important. Especially if... This... will happen again. So... You are their Captain. Always?"
Price nodded. "Always. As long as they trust me. Freely given."
"And Simon?" You leaned back, felt the strong arms holding you once more. Trust. Yes, you could trust them. In more ways than you had expected.
"My second. In command when I am not there. He has my trust."
You nodded, but there was more to it. Something about the way Kyle was draped over his lap, arms around John's neck, hips slowly moving. Like a big cat, deadly but still soft and pliant when they trusted you.
"And you have theirs. That's your thing, right? You get your high from their trust." You smiled.
Price stopped for a moment, he had never thought about it that way. Yes, he needed their trust. Needed to know they felt safe with him and they would follow his command. It was mandatory, it worked both ways. He trusted them to follow his lead to the end. A brutal reality that they had accepted a long time ago.
"Huh. Never put it like that. But yes. It is exhilarating in a way. And where does that put you? Do you trust me? Us?"
---------
Ugh, I didn't plan to make it a thing and now we are back at relationship concepts and talking. Sorry if this is too much plot. (And I really hope @whimsicalbeans likes this one)
