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foaming at the mouth

In hindsight, this was without a doubt one of the stupidest bets you’d ever made with him

As if he needed more of an excuse to slap your ass on the daily

Simon must’ve been in a particularly handsy mood that day, swatting at your lower cheeks more than usual, when you’d made the offhand comment that your behind was getting sore and how that was ‘like the hundredth time you spanked me today, Si’

Raising an eyebrow at you, he’d joked that he could start keeping count if you’d like, which somehow turned into his idea of a fun challenge, to see if he could spank you a hundred times in a day

Never one to back down from a challenge, certainly not one that gave both of you more reasons to keep your hands on each other, you’d agreed with him, so long as you could get in on the fun too

The rules were set, first person to slap the other persons ass a hundred time in 24 hours won

Multiple slaps in a row didn’t count, they had to be a hundred different slaps, at a hundred different times

There had to be some creativity to it after all

You hadn’t exactly spoken about when said bet should begin, and so when the two of you were cuddling on the couch watching a movie and the clock turned from 11:59pm to 12:00am, and you felt two large palms come smacking down onto both your cheeks from behind you, eliciting a surprised gasp from yourself and a gravely chuckle from the man underneath you, you knew it was game on

A few minutes pass and you ask him if he’ll go throw some popcorn in the microwave, which he of course does for you

Once you hear the sound of kernels beginning to pop, you tiptoe into the kitchen as quietly as you can, seeing his large frame facing the microwave, back turned to you

He somehow doesn’t suspect a thing when your hand comes slapping across his behind, surprising the 6’4” Lieutenant enough to have his heart skip a beat

“That’s one to one. For now.” You say, giving his muscled behind a slight squeeze for good measure, skipping back towards the living room

He comes back to the couch, popcorn bowl in hand, dropping it onto the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands, earning a raised brow from your direction

He simply moves aside the blanket thrown across your lap, sits down in the empty spot next to you, wraps one arm across your middle to drag you towards his lap, not without reaching to land a smack against your behind again

“Believe that’s two to one.” He rasps out, bringing the popcorn bowl to land on your lap, pressing a kiss to your temple and massaging the spot on your derriere he’d slapped

Hand full of your midnight snack (while he’s got a handful of his midnight snack-) and a smile on your face, you roll your eyes, wondering what you’ve just signed yourself up for

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And just like that, you’ve reawakened my love for Mr. Riley w a snarky/difficult reader 😩😩my heart

once again thinking about arranged marriage but like .... u only married him for an alliance. it's an even trade, really, your father gets simon's protection and simon gets your father's land when he dies. plus, he gets to marry you! win-win!!!

except u fucking despise simon 😭 the entire time everyone is celebrating the union, you're whispering in simon's ear how much u hate his ass.

"make no mistake, simon," you spit his name like it's disgusting, "one wrong move and ill kill you myself. and then ill throw your worthless corpse into the same grave as your worthless father."

and simon is like DAMN but like he can't deny it's kind hot. this marriage would be much less interesting if you just bent to his will. no, you're bein mean to his ass and he digs it!!!!

"don't worry, pet," he coos, and to everyone else it looks like newlyweds sharing little secrets, "you'll break eventually. trust me, i will bring you to your knees and make you mine."

your father, bless his heart, just beams, "oh i'm so happy you two are getting along!!!! i'm so happy to see this union working out!!!"

meanwhile, you're muttering about how you learned about eunichs and how you wondered how simon would feel if u castrated him...he can't deny he's kind of heart eyes over u tho....

and then that night, when you have to share a bed with him, you undress and he gets the first view of your pretty body. he starts gettin hard (he is who he is) and then you turn to him and tell him, "don't get any ideas. this marriage is a sham and i'm just along for the ride. but that doesn't mean i'm going to ride you. i wouldn't ever look at a mangy cur like you."

and then you go to sleep and he's rock fucking hard because DAMN. he loves a bit of a challenge !!!!

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I be throwing down in the kitchen fr

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat. 

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I have acquired a military man, who’s obsessed w me … I WON

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I got 2% BUT TO BE FAIR, I put ages 18-25 bc I’m only 19

How many people meet your standards? Find out here: https://t.co/8SgyfTZm3q

Tagging: @uchihasanctuary @beneathstarryskies @bleach-your-panties @abellaheart-blog @shadowsnlace @akiraiscute @terabyteturtle @itjazzbicch @rose-riot-johnson @emberstoriesandtales @blasthis @loki-love

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I be seeing works where the character has a tongue piercing and it’s always described as cold… wouldn’t the metal be warm bc it’s literally in their mouth??? Not hating im just confused. Is it the thought or just the delulu manifesting. NO HATE 😭pls yall im just wondering

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🥲🥲🥲

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

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Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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It was good fr😫the anticipation is killing me. Take your time fr🙏I really enjoyed the chapter and your writing as a whole

lowkey chapter 12 of the roommate series is stressing me out lol

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my bbgs got it

(pic isn’t mine)

i will make a repost about the things i wanna do to him :>

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*ahem* Simon “Ghost” Riley (that’s it, that’s the whole post)

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Barry is so fine. I just want a chance fr

i manifested lumberjack!price !

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The fact that there was an international outcry over the burning of Notre Dame , but not a single word uttered for the desecration and destruction of worship places, archives and libraries of Gaza and rest of Palestine ,many of which are FAR older than Notre Dame and other buildings in Europe should tell you enough about which countries are deemed worthy of respect and preservation in the West .

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simon squinting down at your cunt, tsking softly as he bullies his fingers into you, “don’t know if m’gonna fit, doll.”

“m’too big f’r you.”

woah woah woah creaming my pants

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Me too bro, me too

not to be nsfw but can someone hold my hand and do the thumb rub thing

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It’s opposite for me, the buildup and tension is so fun for me to build up but once I get to the act itself I start loosing ideas. But I just started so I’ll get better eventually 😭

starting smut scenes and ending them always makes my brain go to mush!! why is it so hard ‼️