erensonly

[erensonly]

take of the day: ppl replace gaz with könig because they can’t believe a black man would be preferred over a white one.

[erensonly]

Sometimes you're not sure who's the victim, you or Simon. Between your incessant complaints and his aggressive denials, a distance found it's way in your relationship, growing larger by day while neither of you backed down on your side of the argument.

You wanted more attention—you didn't care if it made you shallow or needy. It wasn't something you could ignore either, last time you tried ended up in a rather explosive outburst... so you've accepted you're a woman that seeks nearly constant attention from your lover. Except, Simon seems to dangle it in your face and take it away. You can't remember the last time you received a kiss, or the last time he initiated physical affection. It was always you.

"I just don't do that kinda' thing." He'd counter dismissively.

But you loved Simon. God's, you loved that man... but loving someone was no reason to put yourself below standards. So when you spotted your lover through his apartment window, fucking the woman he told you not to worry about, that was that. And that's the gist of it! Your current situation is this. You're standing at a corner of the room clutching your bag, hastily stuffed with essentials and some spare clothing, while your... now ex-boyfriend stood opposite your position, blocking any exit.

"Simon," you started, eye twitching at how ridiculous this was getting. "Move from the doorway."

Simon did not move from the doorway.

He was still shirtless from earlier. The woman your lover raw dogged left in a hurry after you walked in nonplussed and began packing. Simon...had no reaction. He just stared at you packing, like he didn't think it was real—and only as you made way for the door did he move.

And you were pissed. Every second passing by while you were cooped up in here with him felt so fucking suffocating. The only reason you stood so high was because it didn't hit you yet. Your lover, your Simon was hoo-haaing another woman on the bed you'd cuddled and shared for the past four years. How could you come to terms with that?

You didn't want to think about it. Why he cheated, was it because of you? Were you too needy? Did you push him too hard? Were you the problem? Those question were pushed at the far back of your mind. You couldn't handle it all now. You needed to get away, clear your head, cry your heart out.

"Move from the fucking door, you lying cunt." You hissed.

The lying cunt did not move from the fucking door. So you did what you knew best in that situation.

You pulled a glock 19 outta your ass and blew his fucking brains out. Grah Grah

[erensonly]

Simon Riley is the type to shove someone off with a, “Nah, mate, I’m married,” when they’re passing around nudes.

Nevermind that he hasn’t popped the question, it’s just easier to spread that around than to explain that you’re the only woman he wants, ever, for all of time.

It’s “Ahh, I would, but the missus…” every time they’re going out for drinks and he just wants to go home to you.

I mean, you’re practically married already, considering he refused to let you pay any bills once you moved in with him. Gave you some shit about how he’s paying the same whether you’re there or not, and if he dies he wants you to have a little money saved. (Nevermind that you’re the beneficiary in his will.) Best you can do is groceries every now and then, which he sometimes catches you carrying in yourself, and gruffs about “Embarrassing him to the neighbors.”

You’ve been waiting for the ring for so long, you’re starting to suspect there’s something holding him back besides a fear of commitment. It’s only confirmed when you finally meet his coworkers, and every one of them asks how long you’ve been married, with a good bit of interest.

Man’s really giving you all the marriage perks without the ring. What the fuck?

Part 2

[erensonly]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[erensonly]

i read somewhere that vikings used to gift new brides kittens and immediately thought of viking!simon and a little kitten

big man with small animal? absolutely yes i’m ovulating

c/w: none

you cannot and will not tell me that he will not pick the scrunkliest kitten known to man. little black scruffy thing tucked into his palms and he just puts it in your lap the day after your wedding. mumbles something about tradition before skulking off

he expects you to dump the thing on someone else, not even give little scruff a name. but to his surprise you’re absolutely in love with this little ball of fur. you don’t go anywhere without it, fashioning a little collar for it and speaking to it as if it were your own child

he doesn’t expect you to be in tears when you tell him that the cat didn’t come home last night :( that you’re worried a wolf got to it and you just miss your baby!

huffs and puffs as he hunts around the dark forest, looking for a kitten who may as well be invisible. breathes a sigh of relief when he finds the thing handing on a tree branch. he’d grab it by the scruff before beginning his trek back home,

“ya gave your mum a right scare. don’t do that again.” he’d grunt to the cat who just meows right back at him, tail swishing in the air

[erensonly]

Simon proposed to you. While drunk.

To be fair, you were a bit merry yourself.

You were in the comfort of your home, enjoying each other's company and the cheap alcohol when you realized Simon was staring at you. Turns out he'd been staring at you for quite a while. He was definitely inebriated, but it was like he was aware just the same. You saw it in his dark eyes. You would have reflected some more if you weren't tipsy.

"...Marry me."

That roused you from your drunken stupor. You think. You guess. Wait a damn minute. You began giggling. Or maybe you always were giggling. Fuck, you didn't know, didn't care to know, but—"Yer drunk, Siiiii." And still, you giggled.

Wasn't gonna deter your soldier, though. He took another swig of his drink, let it settle, eyes never leaving yours, and said, " 'm not drunk. 'm in love, sweetheart," Oh! ...Oh. Oh shit. "Marry me, luv. Make an honest man outta me, yeah?" Simon punctuated his proposal with a loud burp. When did he take his shirt off?

You couldn't be bothered to care. When didn't he have his shirt off around you? And fuck, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he kept staring at you, drunk in love, or maybe—"SURE!"

Smooth. Real fucking smooth. But it was enough.

Simon leaned in to kiss you. At least, he tried to. That's all you remembered until the next morning when you woke up and there he was, comfortably resting on top of you, him in your arms and you in his.

You would've thought last night was a dream if you hadn't seen the drunken text Simon sent the boys later:

im a missus

Yes, you are, Simon. Yes, you are.

And truth be told, you two didn't mind it at all.

[erensonly]

This is Price. You can't change my mind

[erensonly]

"Morning, sleepy head."

"It's past noon, innit?" Your hair's a mess, everything hurts, and your bare toes are growing numb from the chilly spring air.

But the coffee smells good, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction at your ruined state.

"It is." He holds his cigarette between his teeth and offers you the blanket. And a place on his lap.

[erensonly]

Soap is frantic by the time he comes home, unable to reach you on the phone for a week and fearing the worst. He finds out you got mugged while he was on deployment, coming home and finding you with a black eye and split lip after you tried to fight them off. You’d wanted to make him proud by not just giving in, by standing up for yourself like he would. You still lost your bag and phone, and got hurt in the process to make it worse.

He disappears after he makes sure you are okay, the muscle in his jaw ticking the entire time he listens to you telling him what happened before he goes. The look in his crystalline blue eyes had been one you’d not seen before, cold and hard, not your laughing, warm Johnny.

You sit alone on the sofa trying not to fall asleep, late into the night, hoping he isn’t doing anything stupid. The rain begins to pour outside in the dark.

After midnight you startle awake in the darkened room, hearing the door unlocking. Johnny returns, soaking wet, his thick stripe of hair plastered to his head as he limps in, shoulders hanging low as if exhausted. He heads directly to you through the dark of the living room, falling to his knees infront of you and wrapping his heavy arms around your middle, face buried against your stomach.

You fleetingly see the dark stains on his knuckles, a fresh gash on his cheek.

“What did you do?” you whisper, combing your fingers through the wet mess of his hair.

“They had it comin’,” he mumbles against your stomach, the cold of the rain seeping through your clothes from him and making you shudder. “No one hurts you and gets away with in.”

[erensonly]

Imagine making out with Simon in private obviously and suddenly someone walks in. Panic ensues not quite due to embarrassment but bc you know Simon's mask is off. You know you need to cover his face and your first instinct was to shove his face in your chest. Problem solved ig??? He's just there like 🧍🧍 until the person leaves. Once the door is shut, you let out a breath and pull Simon's face back. That jerk is holding back laughter. You were just looking out for him!! There was nothing else to do you swear!

[erensonly]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

Masterlist - Taglist Form

Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

[erensonly]

floor sex?? great way to go ig

First thing you see after you zoom in is how you die

How you dying 👀

[erensonly]

[erensonly]

i will be using this if i ever make a cod fic that isn’t an AU. very helpful, thank you!!

Slater's Guide to Military Terminology and Information

A guide for fanfiction readers and writers in the Call of Duty fandom (from a former competitive COD player herself). AKA a guide of how I write military speak and literally every vaguely military thing I've researched and learned that can be used in a story lol

Note: THIS IS NOT MEANT TO PROMOTE THE MILITARY, VIOLENCE, OR FIREARMS USAGE!!! THIS IS PURELY AN INFORMATIONAL POST FOR CALL OF DUTY ENTHUSIASTS, NEW FANS, AND FANART CREATORS!! USE THIS POST RESPONSIBLY!! I’M NOT A SOLDIER, JUST A FAN!! SOME OF THESE MAY BE INACCURATE!!

Location Terminology

LZ: Landing Zone, used for aircraft

AO: Area of Operation, where an exercise will take place

Target Area: Area with specific target, such as a person or object

Alpha/Beta/Charlie etc. (Site): Separate locations within the AO delineated by separate names

Movement Callouts

Advancing: Moving Forward

Pushing: Moving forward, often used in writing as quickly moving forward specifically towards an enemy

Strafing: 1. (COD game) moving sideways while continuously facing the same direction [oftentimes while shooting at an enemy] 2. (Real life) Shooting at an enemy from a low-flying aircraft

Retreating/Falling back: Moving away from an enemy, oftentimes because you do not have the ability to fight them any longer

Holding: Staying put in a single place

Cover to Cover: Moving from a position that is concealed from enemy fire to another position concealed by enemy fire

Breaking Away: Splitting off from a group

Pursuing: Following an objective or target

Pinned Down: Unable to move due to an enemy's maneuvers or fire

*EXTRA* Anaconda Maneuver: A reference to a large-scale military maneuver performed in 1861 by the American Union Army in the Civil War, which is simply "We'll take 'em from the front AND the back at the same time!!".....which is really fitting cause its called the Anaconda maneuver lol

Enemy Callouts

"Movement!" - There is someone moving in front of me

"# Tangos" or "# Combatants" or "# Enemies" or "# X-Rays" etc. - There are # number of enemies

"Taking enemy fire!" - I am being shot at by the enemy

"Contact!" - I see the enemy, they see me, we are firing at each other

"Taking heavy fire!" - I am being shot at by the enemy and it's a desperate situation; can also mean that the enemies have armor-piercing weapons

"Visual on enemy/objective/target/hostage" etc - I see the enemy /objective/target/hostage etc

"Taking small-arms fire!" - (Specifically for aircraft) Our aircraft is being shot at by regular sized guns from ground troops

"I have eyes on..." - I can see...

"# Military Aged Males" - Terminology used to describe men who are roughly 18-40 years old. They're usually plain-clothed, but because they fall into the correct age range to be drafted into the military/have military training, they are specifically flagged in case they pose a threat

“# Unknowns” - Used to describe unidentified possible combatants in a place of interest. They do not always mean that that person is a soldier. Sometimes, they can be civilians.

Common Radio Speak

Note: Preceding any radio communication, radio callsigns are often used to identify one's self. Radio callsigns are mad complicated, so I won't explain them specifically, but for more info on their usage, check the "Dialogue Examples" section at the end of this post!

"Please Advise" - Please tell me what I should do in this situation

"Send Traffic" - Tell me what you want to tell me.

"Go for [Callsign]" - I'm here, listening to you

"Repeat your last" - Repeat what you last said

"[Callsign] to Actual" - 'Actual' refers to the commanding officer

"How copy?" - What/how are you doing?

"Negative" - No

"Affirmative" or "Affirm" - Yes

"Copy" - Copy that

"Planting charges" or "Planting mine" or "Planting anchors" - I am planting explosive charges/mine/anchors

"Advancing/pushing to second deck" - I am moving to the second floor

"Jackpot" - We took the object or person we were looking for into custody

"Possible jackpot" - I have possibly found the person or object we came for

"Engaging" - I am going to start fighting the enemy

"3, 2, 1 - Enter! Enter!" or "3, 2, 1 - Breach!" - used when forcefully entering a building or doorway

"All Units" or "All Stations" - Precedes a message that is relevant to all personal on a mission

"Requesting [something]" (ex. backup, air support, recon overhead etc) - I request backup

"Be advised" - Be aware of something

"Check Fire" - Watch where you're firing; this can also mean you've accidentally shot a teammate or civilian

"Standby" - Hold on

“Secure the area” - Make sure there are no enemies in the area/kill all the enemies in the area

“Occupy the area” - forcefully stay in one place, defending it from enemies

Common Miscellaneous Acronyms and Nicknames

PID - Positive Identification

MTC - Mission Time Clock, refers to how much time a team has to complete a mission

RTB - "Returning to Base"

CO - Commanding Officer

NCO - Noncommissioned Officer

FOB - Forward Operating Base

MIA - Missing in Action

KIA - Killed in Action

AWOL - Absent Without Official Leave

EOD - Explosive Ordinance Disposal

IED - Improvised Explosive Device

SERE (Training) - Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape

DMZ - Demilitarized Zone

VIP - Very Important Person, a person one is escorting through a certain area or otherwise protecting

SpecOps - Special Operations

MedEvac - Medical Evacuation

Op - Operation

Infil - Infiltration

Exfil - Exfiltration

Payload - 1. supplies, objects, or weapons that are being delivered somewhere 2. A bomb that is being dropped

Wilco - “Will Comply”

Radio and Military Related Slang/Jokes

GOFO - "Grasp Of the Fucking Obvious"

Chest Candy - Ribbons/awards that a soldier earns

Whiskey Foxtrot - Stands for military letters W and F, meaning "What the fuck?"

"Out here" - used on the radio to signal that you've finished talking, usually preceded by a radio callsign

Charlie Foxtrot - Stands for military letters C and F, meaning "clusterfuck"

FUBAR - Fucked beyond all repair

"Got your six" or "Bringing up your six" or "Watch your six" - "I've got your back" or "I'm bringing up the rear" or "watch your back"

Plebe - a new recruit, someone without any experience

Oscar Mike - Stands for the military letters O and M, which is used to mean "We Are On the Move"

Mike-Mike - Stands for millimeter, which is often used to describe the size of grenades (i.e. 40 Mike Mike)

Barrack's Bunny - someone who has sex with many people throughout the barracks

Sandbox/sandpit - slang for a desert area

Chair Force - refers the USA Air Force

Civvies - Means "Civilians" or "Civilian clothing"

Mandatory Fun - company organized events/dinner

"Drop 'em" - drop from a aircraft or kill someone

GRUNT - Stands for "general, replaceable, untrained", refers to low ranking infantrymen

Jarhead - refers exclusively to marines

Flyboy - derogatory term for aviators

"Rog'" - Roger that

"Squirters" - people who run out of the back door of a building that is being attacked

"Danger close" - an attack being send from an aircraft that is dangerously close to friendly soldiers

"Watch your shots" - another way of saying "Check your fire"

“Fuckin’ A” - means “Fucking Affirmative”

“Repo Quickly” - (not 100% sure but I think it means) Reposition Quickly

“Rush” / “Bum-Rush” - Move towards someone extremely forcefully and quickly (kind of “rushing” towards them, typically without finesse)

Munitions

Munitions: ammunition, weapons, and equipment used in the field

Tactical Equipment: Equipment used in the field to gain an advantage, but that are not necessarily lethal. Examples include flash grenades, gas grenades, heartbeat sensors, and trip mines.

Lethal Equipment: Equipment used in the field aside from firearms with lethal intent. Examples include, grenades, Semtex (sticky grenades), poisonous gas, Molotovs cocktails, trip mines etc.

Ammunition: Bullets, rounds, shells that are loaded into a firearm. For grenade launchers, the grenades may be called ammunition.

Other Interesting Military Devices

Spotter scopes: binoculars that can have both a regular and thermal setting. They are used to survey an area for enemies. They also show you how far you are standing from the targets (usually in meters).

Anchors: Used to rappel down the sides of cliffs

Field ladders: Used to scale buildings

Sledge hammers: Used to break down doors and plant anchors

Thermite charges: a substance that burns at over 2000 degrees celsius and is used to burn through walls, doors, and locks

Door and wall charges: explosive charges used to explode walls and doors

Electro Magnetic Pulses: disables or interrupts electronic devices and communications

LIDAR: Light detection and ranging. A device that uses lasers to model tunnels underneath the ground. However, it can reflect off of certain circumstances, including snow

Thermal scopes: scopes that detect heat. Fun fact! They have an infinite range, meaning they can detect heat from any distance. However, they cannot see through walls or thick concrete.

Bullet Proof Vests

Note: Many people describe them incorrectly and it physically hurts my heart, so let's break it down.

Types of Wearable Protection

Kevlar Vests: A vest that is made out of Kevlar fabric, which offers protection against handguns and other relatively common arms. THEY ARE NOT FASTENED USING BUCKLES!!!! I see people in fan fiction constantly say "he secured the buckles on his vest" ALL. THE. TIME. Standard issue vests have buckles TO ADJUST THE SIZE, NOT TO PUT IT ON!! THEY ARE SECURED USING VELCRO AROUND THE WAIST! Legit, might be my number 1 pet peeve lol

Flak Jackets: A fabric vest made to withstand explosive casings and shrapnel. THEY DO NOT PROTECT AGAINST BULLETS!

Plate Carriers: A type of vest without protective padding. On their own, they do not provide any protection. However, armor plates must be zipped into the pockets onto the front and back of the vest. These plates are usually made out of steel. They can withstand heavier fire. The plates can be replaced when they break.

Firearms (Long Section Lol)

Basic Terms in Firearm Usage

"Effective Fire Range" - the greatest distance a bullet can be shot from and accurately damage a target. This is important when considering which firearms a character should use in a certain environment. Is their EFR long? Short?

Rechambering (and Rechambering Speed): When reloading, the previous cartridge must be expelled. In bolt action weapons, the bolt must be pulled back. More rounds or another mag will be inserted. Then, either the bolt will be pushed back in, or the charging handle will be pumped, which pushes a new round into the chamber. On a revolver, this comes in the form of the "hammer." On pistols, this is the "slide."

Fire Rate: the frequency a bullet can be shot from the gun

ADS: stands for "Aim Down Sight", which means aiming down the barrel, using iron sights or another type of sight

Hip-fire: Firing a weapon without aiming down sight

Different Fire Types

Fully Automatic vs Semi-Automatic vs Bolt-Action: 1. Fully automatic guns (in simple terms) fire continuously at a high rate until the trigger is released or until the magazine is empty; automatic rifles are usually magazine fed; they expel the bullet cartridges by themselves 2. Semi-Automatic guns fire one bullet each time the trigger is pulled; they expel the bullet carriages by themselves 3. Bolt-Action rifles fire once every time the trigger is pulled; the cartridge must be manually expelled by the user by pulling back the bolt on the side of the gun

Pump-action: Shotguns that use a sliding handguard to rechamber the bullet. Oftentimes, I just call the handguard the "slide"

Select-Fire Rifles: A gun that can be fired on both a "full-auto" and "semi-auto" setting; remember, full-auto = high fire rate while semi-auto is a little slower; the fire rate is switched by flipping a lever on firearm; Assault Rifles, Small Machine Guns, and Light Machine guns are usually select-fire

Types of Firearms

Sidearm: A less powerful gun or other weapon that you carry alongside your main firearm; (Real life) sidearm usually just means pistol; (COD game) sidearms can include pistols, knives, shotguns, and other melee weapons, like batons and tonfas

Shotgun: A type of gun that fires shotgun shells, which are a type of ammunition that contains pellets that spread upon firing. They have a typical range of 35-50m of effectiveness. They are extremely destructive at close range, and can even sever limbs if fired close enough. Their range is limited, however.

Lever Action Rifles: Rifles that are magazine fed, lever action, and with multiple fire rates. Small Machine Guns and Assault Rifles fall into this category. They have a high rate of fire and have a typical range of effectiveness of 150-300m. They fire the same type of bullets as pistols.

Bolt Action Rifles: Rifles that require the user to manually eject the cartridge via pulling back the bolt on (typically) the right side of the gun). They have a slower rate of fire. Sniper rifles and Marksman rifles fall into this category (depending on the model). They have an effective range of about 500-800m. They are very precise, and can often immobilize a target with a single shot.

*EXTRA* Armor Piercing Sniper Rifles (ex. .50 Cal Rifle): Rifles that use armor piercing rounds, which can pierce both vehicle armor and body armor. A single shot will immobilize any target. They can be both bolt action or lever action, with an effective armor piercing range of 200-600m and can be shot up to 2,000m away. These rifles are often large and heavy, with a length of over 4ft long and with over 25 pounds of weight.

Types of Ammunition

Shotgun shells

9mm Parabellum (for handguns and some rifles)

7.62 (for lever action rifles)

5.56 (for lever action rifles)

.50 Cal (for Sniper Rifles only)

There are way more, but I won't list them here

Simple Types of Modifications to Use in Your Story

Sights: A device affixed to the barrel of a gun to allow it to be aimed more accurately. Types of sights include red dot sights, holographic sights, scopes, and thermal optics. Without a sight mod, a gun comes equipped with Iron Sights.

Barrels: In general, the longer the barrel of a gun, the more accurate it becomes. Barrels can be swapped according to the range needed for a certain mission. Two types of barrels are rifled and unrifled, which affect how the bullets travel out of the gun.

Bi-pod: A stand that is affixed to the bottom of a gun (oftentimes a sniper rifle) to allow the user to set it on the ground with the barrel raised.

Types You Should Avoid (WARNING!!)

Sawed-off barrels: Often associated with the Wild West. Yeah, you can't just do that. They will not be used in proper military settings either.

Semi-automatic to Full-auto modifications: Civilians (USA) cannot own full-auto weapons that were manufactured after 1986. You can own rifles made before 1986, but it requires a special license and also costs $20-30k. Modifying a rifle to have a full-auto setting is ILLEGAL.

.50 Cal Modifications: In a non-military setting, you will NOT find armor piercing guns. It is illegal.

Certain Ammo: Dragon's Breath shells, explosive rounds, and Bolo shells are also illegal, and should not be found in civilian OR military settings.

Silencers: If I remember correctly, silencers are illegal for civilians to use in most places.

Facts about Fire Fights

Over 90% of the rounds expended during a fire fight are used for COVER FIRE! Meaning that they aren't necessarily fired for the purpose of hitting the enemy, but rather, allowing the user to move to a different position.

Most people will not just "spray and pray" lever-action rifles. Even with weapons that have a high fire rate, most soldiers will precisely pull the trigger.

Gun kick increases with fire rate, which decreases precision.

As range increases, effectiveness decreases.

Sniper Rifles are used a long distance, often from a prone position.

You wouldn't think it's like this, but the longer the barrel of it is, it's usually easier to shoot (barring marksman and sniper rifles).

Call of Duty Video Game Slang

Camping - sitting in one place without moving, killing enemies as they come to you

Pushing - running into enemy territory

Killstreak - rewards given to the player for killing several enemies in a row without dying

Killcam - the recording of a player's death before they respawn

KD - Kill Death Ratio

"I'm going negative" or "I am negative" - I have a KD below 1, which means I've died more times than I've gotten kills

"I'm going positive" or "I am positive" - I am a KD over 1, which means I've gotten more kills than the amount of time I've died

"I'm carrying" - I have a significantly higher kildcount than everyone else on my team

"I'm throwing" - I'm doing worse than anyone else on my team

"Shotgunner" - a player using a shotgun

"Knife guy" - a person who is only wielding a knife

"He's one shot" - if he gets hit another time, he'll die

"I downed him" or "I knocked him" - he's down and needs to be revived

"I broke him" - he's out of armor plates

Dialogue Examples

"Bravo 0-7 to Watcher 1, taking heavy fire from the East. Requesting air support!"

"Copy, 0-7. Air support inbound on your location"

"Rog.'"

"Bravo 0-7 to Baseplate Actual."

"Baseplate Actual to Bravo 0-7, send traffic."

"Negative on target ID. Holding on first deck. Please advise."

"Copy. Return to entryway. Regroup with Alpha team."

"Copy."

"All units, be advised, there are civilians in the target area. I repeat, there are civilians in the target area. Check your fire."

"Copy."

"Bravo 0-7 to Overlord Actual, I have visual on Target Area. I repeat, I have visual on target area. Three military aged males in the east corner, no visible weapons. Two unknowns in the center of the plaza. Please advise."

"Contact!"

"Copy, all units, weapons free. Fire at will."

"Bravo 0-7, advancing to rooftop. Deploying field ladder."

"Copy."

[erensonly]

Cherry Pie

A wondering happy birthday to my sweet Cherry @soapsgf who wanted some soft and sweet romantic smut with big dicked Simon. This one's for you, darling <33

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader (Cherry)

Summary: It's been a while since you've been intimate with a partner, and Simon takes good care of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, consent checks, first time between partners, big dick Simon, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 4.2k :))))

Simon was your first partner after a long, long stint of failed dates. You’d met him by chance, out one night with a group of friends when you’d bumped into a solid mass of muscle walking out of a bar. He’d caught you, set you right on your feet with a few words of being careful of your surroundings before seemingly melting into the shadows, despite his size. 

The next morning, you’d stopped by a local cafe. The barista called your name and you grabbed your drink, spinning around quickly only to have a heavy set of hands grip you tightly. Panicking for a moment, you looked up, ready to try and fight off your attacker, when you took in the strangely familiar face. 

“You’re… you…”

“That’s twice within twelve hours, sweetheart. Starting to think you’re making a habit of this.” His voice was accented, deep, and gravelly, making your hair stand on end. 

“I didn’t meant to— I’m sorry—” 

“It’s fine, doll. You couldn’t take me out even if you tried.” He huffed out a chortle at that and you felt your face shift into an expression of mild amusement. Then, with a surge of confidence you weren’t even aware you possessed, you met the heavy gaze of his dark eyes. 

“No, but I can give you my number, and then maybe you can take me out instead.” 

The man blinked, the smile still ghosting on his cheeks as he tilted his head, watching you. Suddenly, it felt like he was scrutinising every aspect of your appearance and you ducked your head, feeling your face heat. 

“Ah forget it, sorry, I just—” You’d moved to exit the cafe, but a firm arm wrapped around your waist. 

“I’ll take you up on that offer, if it’s still on the table.” Blinking in surprise, you looked up at him. One corner of his lips was twitched up into a smirk, his brow slightly raised and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a grin as you nodded. 

“Name’s Simon.” He told you as you quickly scribbled your number on a piece of paper. As you handed it to him, he opened in and frowned slightly. “No name?” 

“Take me on that date, Simon, and you might be lucky enough to get it.” The smile that broke out on his face made your stomach flip, and somehow you knew this was the start of something. 

•

Several months down, you and Simon had settled into a steady routine. Whenever he was back from deployment, he slotted himself neatly into your life, as if he hadn’t missed a beat. It was refreshing, to have someone like him, someone who was willing to work through things, instead of ignoring them. 

Including sex. 

You’d first breached the topic with him a few months in. He’d come back from deployment and there was something about him in his gear, still sweaty and dirty from his time out. Simon had stood there, leaning against your doorframe as you’d opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up. 

The look in your eyes had clearly sparked something in him, and he surged inside, kicking the door closed and pressing his mouth to yours. He steered you towards the couch pressing you against the back of it before one of his hands ran up the back of your leg roughly, hitching it around his waist. 

In a moment of panic, realising where this was going, you broke the kiss, a firm hand placed in the centre of his chest. Though his brows furrowed, he acknowledged the look on your eyes, and slowly let you down. Fear bubbled inside you at the thought of possibly upsetting him, but he placed a reassuring hand on your cheek. 

“It’s alright, doll. Just talk to me.”

“It’s… been a while.” 

“We don’t have to do anything,” He said gently, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Not until you’re ready.” 

“But you want it—” A thumb pressed against your lips, stopping your words before you could finish your sentence.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, lovie. If you’re not feeling it, or you’re not ready, I’m not going to force it.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his earnest eyes and realised that, yes, he’s different from the rest. 

“I still want to kiss you, though.” Your words were softly spoken, but were met with a chuckle as Simon tilted your head back, cupping your head. 

“Kissing I can definitely do for you.” 

•

The time came a month or so later. Simon had messaged in the early afternoon, telling you to get all dolled up and pretty because he was going to take you out for the evening. He turned up at your doorstep, dressed in cleanly pressed black pants with a black button-down shirt he’d rolled up to expose his thick forearms. You couldn’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly as he leaned against your bedroom door, watching you as you fiddled with your hair. 

Turning around, you got a better look at him, allowing your eyes to unabashedly trace over his broad, thick body. Chuckling, Simon stepped forward, making his way over to you. As he stood in front of you, the soothing scent of cologne wafted over towards you. Unable to stop the sound, you let out a breathy whine and he smirked.

“See something you like, doll?” His hands slid up and down your sides before leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “Come on, we’ll be late.” 

He’d made you feel spoiled, treating you to an exquisite dinner at some ridiculously fancy place. You were unable to stop your eyes flitting over to him and admiring just how damn attractive he was as the pair of you sat in the low ambient lighting of the restaurant. Finally as you were headed back home, you were struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt ready. Simon had always made you feel safe, why should this be any different?

When you arrived home, Simon knelt down, lifting one of your legs up gently to remove your shoes. Placing a soft kiss to your knee, he gently lowered it back down with a hand on the back of your calf. He repeated the process on the other leg before pushing himself up to press a kiss to your cheek. He made a move to walk away, but your hand on his wrist stopped him. 

Though you didn’t talk right away, Simon stood there patiently, waiting for you to find the words.

“Simon...” You murmured trailing off as the words evaded you, choosing to flutter your lashes up at him instead. He looked at you, eyes darkened, tilting his head slightly as he calculated his next words

“What’s on your mind, doll?” 

“I want you.” The words were soft, but firm. Simon, the tease that he was, lifted a brow in mock surprise. 

“You want me to do what?” He smirked, staring down at you expectantly. The grip you had on his wrist tightened. 

“I’m ready. And I want— no— need you to fuck me, Simon.” You could see the change in him, as if a switch had flicked over in his mind.  

“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, layered thickly with desire, but still present enough to look deep into your eyes. “Need to hear those words again, pretty girl.” 

“Yes, Simon,” You assured him, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily, “I want you.” 

The words broke his resolve and he dove in to seal his lips against yours, moaning softly at the contact. He’d kissed you countless times before, but even you could feel the difference in this one. It was intense and heated, his hands sliding up and down your back and squeezing at your body before he quickly pulled back, panting. 

“Anything that’s too much— too quick— too rough, you tell me, promise?” The gruffness made your hair stand on end, and you shivered in his arms.

“I promise, Si.” Groaning, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he nipped along the column of your throat. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good lovie, I promise.” Letting out a soft whine, you ran your hands down his chest, squeezing the soft flesh around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, pressing your hips forward. Simon’s breath hitched before he let out a growl. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

The pair of you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other’s as you finally felt the doorknob and pushed it open. Having barely stepped into your room, he broke the kiss, spinning you around so he could tug down the zipper of your dress. Moaning softly, he allowed his hands to caress your bare skin as he mouthed up your neck once more. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you almost bare compared to his mostly clothed body. 

He spun you around and, with frightening ease, Simon lifted you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he strode quickly over to the bed. Placing you down gently, he pushed you back so you hit the pillows. Nudging your legs apart with his thighs, he ran his hands over your legs, cupped your ass before sliding up your back. 

“So fucking pretty for me.” He whispered, eyes heady as they stared down at you, hair fanning over the pillow as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to hold himself back, Simon threaded a hand through your hair, gently pinning you to the bed as he lowered his mouth to your neck once more.

Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open so you could get your hands on the glorious expanse of his chest. His skin was rough, littered with lumps from old cuts and scars, and you wanted to map every bit of it. He seemed to be doing the same to you. His large, calloused hands tracing up and down your body, worshipping every inch of skin as his mouth kissed down your chest and stomach. 

“Lemme taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

Pulling up, he lifted your hips and tugged your underwear off, before pausing, eyes drawn down to the drenched fabric. Running a thumb over it, you watched as his face pulled into a smirk before he tucked the panties into the pocket of his slacks. 

“Still feeling alright, lovie?” A brow was raised in question as he looked at you, fingers tapping on your hip as he waited for a response. 

“Yeah. Please.” Reaching for his hands, you squeezed them gently, causing him to let out a chuckle. 

“Good girl.”

Settling down between your legs, he pushed them apart before dragging his tongue up your wet slit and moaning as he did so. It was wet, messy, and sloppy, but god it felt good to have someone tonguing your pussy like they knew how to. 

Drawing your lip between your teeth, you cut off a moan that was threatening to break free when Simon pulled away to stare up at you. 

“None of that now, doll. Let me hear you. All of you.” He grunted, sealing his mouth back over your cunt with determination. As he moaned, the vibrations ran through you, making you shiver and gasp. Hearing the sound of your breath hitching, he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you harder against his mouth. That action made a moan break from you, hands threading through the short, blonde hair as he ravished you. 

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar, toe-curling feeling you’d only been able to give yourself and your breathing change, morphing into soft pants and pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair. Instead of changing his rhythm like you’d had other partners do, Simon kept the same, allowing you to press and roll your hips over his mouth and you needed to find the right spot. 

When you did, your whole body twitched as you let out a moan, arching your back as your legs shook. Simon practically growled into your cunt, eyes flashing open to stare up at you, taking in every slight reaction you gave him. Looking down, you stared into his eyes, dark and hungry which caused your stomach to flip. 

Brows drawing together, your body shivered and you reached down to grip one of his hands as your mouth dropped open as you felt your orgasm wash over you with a cry of his name. Simon grunted, letting out a moan of his own and held you tight to his mouth as you climaxed. 

Breathing heavily, you groaned softly, pushing at his head, but he refused to move, mouth moving down so the ridge of his nose pressed against your clit as he tongued your cunt. He pressed a thumb to the hood of your clit, flicking over it as his other hand kept tight hold of your leg, pressing his tongue deep into you. 

Groaning at your taste, he didn’t stop until he felt your walls shaking around his tongue and your hands tugged more viciously at his hair as you moaned loudly. Managing to get your foot into his shoulder, you shoved him back, looking down to see his smug grin, chin wet and shining with your slick. 

“Still good, lovie?” Though his face was feral, his voice was soft and questioning. Choking out a laugh, you clapped a hand over your eyes. 

“Yeah… just… fuck.” He hummed in approval, pushing himself up to slide up next to you, his hand tracing lightly up your thigh. 

“Need a break?” The smug grin was back as he looked down at you, earning him a slap to the chest. 

“No, but I can help you—” Before you could even begin to reach down for his trousers, he gripped your hand and pinned it above your head. 

“No need, pretty girl. This is about you.” 

“But you—” He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as you tasted yourself on his lips. Tracing a hand over your chin, he pulled away, looking down at you.

“This is about you.” He repeated, with more sincerity. “For you, at your pace. Do you want to keep going?” 

“Yes!” The reply was quick your mouth, barely before he’d even finished the question. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his hand gripped your hip. 

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, hand moving to trail his fingers between your legs. Circling your clit slowly, he breathed soft words of praise into your ear as you whined for him, rolling your hips to meet his rough digits. 

“Look at you. So soft for me. So pliant. You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you? Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna make it so good for you.”

As if it were the easiest thing for him, he brought you closer to another orgasm. You could feel the heat coiling in your gut as he kept rubbing over the sensitive bud, pinning your legs apart with his. 

“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. Let me see everything. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel, how wet you are for me.” 

“Simon…” Your back arched, hand reaching out to grip his body for support. He drew you into his chest, fingers unrelenting between your legs as he held you against the firmness of his chest, covered by a soft layer of fat. Tipping your head back on his shoulder, you gasped out another moan as you came yet again. 

“Fuck yes. My good girl. Look so pretty when you come for me like that. Gonna finger you now, yeah? Stretch that tight cunt out nice for me.”

Mewling in his arms, you turned your head, shaking it slightly. 

“Cock, Simon. Want your cock.”

“I know you do, greedy girl. But patience for me, yeah?” 

“No!” Whining, you pressed your hips back against his. Letting out a huff, Simon moved quickly. Pushing you down onto the bed, he nestled himself between your legs, dress shirt crumpled as your eyes trained down to the swelling bulge in his pants. Smirking, he raised a brow. 

“Yeah, pretty girl. That’s why. Gimme your hand.” Grabbing your wrist, he pulled it down so your palm was pressed against his crotch and he thrust his hips forward. Squeezing your hand around him, you took in the full weight and thickness of his cock, and swallowed thickly. 

“Fuck you’re big.” You blinked your eyes up to him, and the corner of his lips twitched into a wider smile. 

“Exactly, my pretty doll. Need to make sure you’re all nice and lax for me. Need to get that pretty cunt all soaked and messy before you even think about getting my cock.”

Releasing your wrist, he turned his attention back to your pussy, where one of his thick fingers circled your entrance, collecting your slick. Smirking darkly, he leaned down and spat directly on your cunt, making you jerk and moan at the feeling. Spreading his saliva, he plunged his finger into you, and the pair of you moaned in sync. 

He was a vision between your legs. Still mostly clothed, but looked debauched with his shirt pulled open and the sleeves rolled up. The black ink on his tattooed forearm rippled as he thrust his fingers into you. Grunting, his jaw clenched as his eyes were trained on your pussy, watching the wetness soak his finger. 

“Look at you, so fucking eager for it. Can feel you clenching around me. Think you can fit another finger?” Without much preamble, he slid in a second finger with a low breath. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. God, you feel so good. Can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy round my dick.” 

Squirming underneath him, you clung to the sheets, keeping your legs spread for him as your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure. 

“Fuck, Simon… oh my god.” The erotic, slick sound of his fingers entering your cunt repeatedly filled your ears. Panting, you reached out a hand and gripped his shirt. 

“No no no, not done yet. You’re getting another in you. Come on, pretty thing. You can do it, you can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, yeah?” 

You couldn’t resist. Between the sound of his voice, the way he pinned you so easily against him, the way his fingers curled inside of you… 

A third finger pressed at your entrance and you sucked in a breath, eyes flashing open as you stared into his eyes. The fist you had clenched in his shirt tightened, pulling him down as you grit your teeth. Simon lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours as the third finger slowly pressed in. 

A guttural moan broke from your throat at the burn of the stretch, but also from the orgasm that he pulled out of you. Swearing, Simon grunted, his fingers plunging into you a little faster as he took advantage of your climax. 

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you. Shit, the sounds you’re making…” His voice cracked as he moaned, breathing turning shaky as you writhed in his arms, pussy pulsing around his fingers. 

With a low growl, Simon pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he yanked his belt off with one hand and pushed his pants down. Gathering yourself enough, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. As his cock sprang out from his underwear, you let out a shocked gasp, eyes widening as you took in his cock. 

It was long and thick, with a ruddy head. His balls hung heavy, making you shift your legs wider in anticipation. The action wasn’t missed on Simon, and he grinned hungrily. Spitting on his hand, he used the combination of your slick and his saliva to pump his cock as he ripped at his shirt, pulling it open so you could admire his soft belly. 

The main that left your lips was whiny and pathetic as you stared between his gorgeous body and that glorious cock of his. 

“Simon please… fuck please don’t tease me.” 

“Believe me, doll. Couldn’t tease you right now even if I wanted to. Need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me now.” 

Shuffling forward onto the bed, he settled between your legs, tapping the flushed head of his cock on your sensitive clit, making you jerk. 

“You sure you want it, sweetheart? Last chance to back out before I’m filling your tight little cunt.” With your chest heaving, you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck me, Simon Riley. And don’t you dare pull out.” 

The look on his face turned feral as he hauled you closer, lining his cock up with your wet entrance before pressing in. Your mouth parted wide, but no sound came out as the burning stretch of his cock overtook your senses. Simon let out choked off grunts, fingers clutching into the sheets as he slowly pressed into you. 

Shallowly thrusting, he sunk deeper and his hand moved to cup the top of your head, rubbing affectionately before he finally managed to sink in all the way with a low groan. 

“I know it’s big, I know. Doing so well for me, takin’ it so nicely.” Resting his forehead against yours, Simon inhaled deeply before opening his eyes, staring down at your face. His expression softened as he reached down to wipe a stray tear with his thumb, caressing your cheekbone in the process

“Simon!” You mewled, rocking your hips as your walls clenched, the initial stretch of his cock slowly fading and the need for more slowly rose in you. However, before you could get a rhythm going, a firm hand pressed onto your hip, halting all movement and you blinked your eyes open. 

Above you, Simon’s eyes were squeezed shut with his brows pinched together. His breath was coming out in short pants as sweat beaded on his brow. Frowning, you went to push yourself up to talk to him, but the movement made him release a choked off moan and both of his hands clamped down on your hips, effectively pinning you to him. 

“Don’t— fuck— don’t fucking move.” His voice was rough, on edge as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh surrounding your hips. “Jesus fuck, you’re gripping me tight. Don’t— don’t think I’m gonna last.” 

Reaching out, you gripped his strong bicep and squeezed lightly. 

“It’s okay. Just fuck me Simon please!” 

He didn’t need any further prompting. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Simon began to shift his hips forward, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly. 

“I know, princess, I know.” His voice was hoarse as he ground himself deep into you, the rough hairs on the base of his cock brushing pleasurably against your clit as he circled his hips.

“My pretty girl,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, almost whispering the words to you, “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good, lovie. So tight around me.” 

Moaning your assent for him to continue and dragging your nails down his chest, nails that he’d paid for, he finally snapped. Lifting your hips, he angled you how he wanted, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders as he began to fuck into you. It felt like the wind was being punched out of your body with every thrust, but you couldn’t stop yourself crying out with every stretch of his cock. 

“Simon… god fuck! Please, need it.” 

“Fuck, baby I know. I know you do. Feel so fucking good. So fucking tight and wet around me.” Groaning, he pushed forward, placing a hand next to your head as he folded your body and thrust into you hard. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, using it to anchor yourself as you moved your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts, moaning like you were being paid for it. 

“Pretty girl… so pretty on my cock… feels like fucking heaven.” He grunted, panting as he kept his eyes fixed to your face, watching every subtle shift of pleasure that etched itself onto your expression. 

“Need to fill you. Make you mine.” His voice was becoming ragged and airy, signalling how close he was to his release. 

“I am yours, Simon. Only yours.” Whispering into his ear, you clenched your walls around his cock, making the pace of his thrusts stutter as you felt your final orgasm of the evening get pulled from your lax body, making you gasp breathlessly. 

“Oh shit.” Simon moaned, voice cracking as your walls fluttered around him. He grunted, hand gripping onto your hip as he slammed his cock deep into you once, twice before you felt his cock kick inside of you, and he came, his warmth filling you. Lowering his head, he rested it into the crook of your neck as his warm breath fanned over your skin. 

It took several minutes before either of you were coherent again. Simon was first, slowly pulling out of you, rolling you over so he could nestle behind you, holding you against his body. 

“My good girl. My sweet little cherry.” Soft kisses trailed down the back of your neck as he hummed softly, contentedly, his heart beating steadily against you. This was perfect, you thought, and you couldn’t be happier.

Happy Birthday to you xx

[erensonly]

so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op

featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!

They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.

“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia

But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.

Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.

Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”

Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–

You clear your throat.

His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.

Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.

He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.

What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?

“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.

It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”

You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”

“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.

“I’ll have that right out for you.”

And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.

Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.

“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”

Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”

“We cannae leave her here.”

Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.

He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.

“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.

What good partner would let you work this shitty job?

It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.

Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.

It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.

So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.

[erensonly]

I'm still thinking about blacksmith!Ghost. All big and sweaty. Way too strong. Afraid he'll break you. He just wants you to be safe.