Can Someone Pls Give Me A Lost Of More Cod Angst Or Fluff IM SO SO SO SO TIRED OF SMUT ON MY FEED

dad!Price

thinking of you becoming price's personal lucky charm :)

cw: f!reader. slightly nsfw. very rushed/unedited. idk shit about casinos or card games lol. 1 | more casino!141

when your friend begged you to dress up fancy and go out with them, a casino was not what you had in mind. especially not an underground one, entrance hardly visible in the dimly lit street, where you even needed a password to get in.

despite being far from your definition of a night out, you decide to give one of the games a chance. the roulette seemed the easiest, with seemingly less rules to learn, and to your surprise, you're crushing it. starting with safe outside bets, you make your way to straight bets and stay winning every single one of them. 

at your winning streak, you sense two sets of eyes on you, almost burning your flesh with the heat that crawls to your cheeks. you peek over your shoulder and meet two burly men, one with an icy stare and half-covered face, the other with an adorable boyish smirk and a mohawk. still, both glare at you with an intense puzzled gaze, laced with curiosity and an underlying hunger that makes you shiver. 

suddenly, you feel a rough hand settling on your lower back, nearly making you jump on your seat, “what does the pretty lady think about heading to the vip section?” the man says, pearly smile doing a perfectly good job in luring you in, “all that luck needs to be put to good use.”

you ponder for a second, fearing that once you’re in, all your fortune will slip out your fingers and the beginner’s luck will be gone forever. but his sweet brown eyes are too convincing, and you nod, taking his hand and walking through a mysterious door.

“i– i don’t know how to play poker,” you stutter, brows knitted together at the sight of a round table with piles of chips in the center.

"don't worry, love, you're not here to play," a bearded man says, gruff voice followed by a puff of his cigar. he seems a bit older than the one who brought you inside or the two observers, ocean-blue eyes looking at you tenderly, but the sly smirk on his face doesn't go unnoticed.

he pats his thigh, gesturing for you to sit, "my men say you've been quite lucky out there," a smoke cloud forms in front of him, mingling with the strong scent of his cologne, "let's check."

hesitantly, you comply, plush thighs meeting his firm one. he chuckles at your shyness and pulls you closer to his torso by your waist, positioning your ass right above his growing bulge and you bite back a squeal, "name's John."

the game restarts and you watch the dealer distributing the cards. you glance at his hand and he holds five cards, all hearts, which must be a good sign, given the way he squeezed your hip, certainly hard enough to leave a bruise. not that you minded, considering the damp spot forming between your legs.

"would you look at that, straight flush," he flashes you a grin, cigar dangling from his lips as his laugh echoes amongst the annoyed huffs of other players.

his fingers trace your spine, teasingly edging the waistband of your skirt as you try your best not to squirm, "mighty luck you have, love," he whispers in your ear, beard gently grazing your neck.

he hands you one of his golden chips, "for you, as a thank you," your eyes widen at the number 1000 etched in the back, promptly pushing back the gift. he shakes his head, palm sneaking its way to your inner thigh, "there's way more where that came from."

it's safe to say you might become an avid gambler after tonight.

So you pulled the D-card on Simon Riley, and...

Another day another what the fuck

The torment on soap's face continues with more squish

He's starting to accept it

it was actually very nice of barry sloane to play another military dude. more fodder for edits. more opportunities for me to giggle and teehee.

I copy pasted parts of this but I do hand letter everything, because while I'm trying to work easier as I'm chronically ill, I am still chronically stupid

i hate to be that girl but simon would NOT want sex after coming home from deployment. (reader x simon riley)

he would want SLEEP. i know for a fact this man doesn’t even care enough to shower most nights. so you know to hold off on changing them until the day after he comes home. he doesn’t care if the sheets are dirty. besides, your scent helps him sleep better.

he comes home and no matter the time of day, he strips off his clothes down to his boxer briefs.

side note:

price wears briefs

johnny wore briefs until he accidentally wore simon’s underwear and realized boxer briefs are far comfier

kyle wears boxer shorts, definitely has designs on them. beneath his exterior, brother is whimsical asf

he grabs you by the waist and moves you by pushing on you with his entire body weight, essentially forcing you into bed.

on typical nights, he’s a back sleeper. almost vampire like. learned habit.

on nights coming back from work? he collapses onto his stomach. face in pillow. out like a light. one arm draped over your stomach, pulling you closer. he definitely ends up with shoulder pain after. though he doesn’t really care.

in the late afternoon when he wakes up, he finally takes a shower. during his shower you change the sheets.

i imagine earlier in the day you would’ve washed his gear. out of the kindness of your heart. simon insists you don’t have to. he doesn’t need you to do it. he’s capable.

but he appreciates the gesture all the same. half the time he does it he forgets to take the chapstick out of his pocket and ends with oily gear. you always remember.

maybe after a day or two of just sleeping and eating he finds the energy. and it’s always soft. you do most of the work. his bones are tired, muscles weak. half the time he’s injured aswell.

but you like it all the same. you love this routine you have.

if i survived a slasher it’s because i fucked him