#cod 141

[briefalpacashark]

Insults

================================================

141 walks into a bar. There are well known.

"Look it's the brits,"

Y/N and Jonny: *Argast, repulsed, deeply offended gasps of shock*

[priceyprice]

Part 1 , Part 2

"Ghost, 'you there?"

Price said as he opened the door of Ghost's room, not finding surprising that his lieutenant was there instead in his house.

Ghost, who was sitting in a chair with his back facing the door, didn't even move at his captain voice calling him.

The older man sighed when his eyes landed on the glass of whiskey that he was holding. He entered, closing the door quietly. The room was only illuminated with just a dim light, giving the quiet man a more intimidating aura. If Price didn't know him, it would cause him a little surprise(not intimidation since Price has seen worse things than a guy with a skull mask).

He sat on his bed with his hands on his knees in front of Ghost, who hadn't taken his eyes off something he was holding.

"How much longer are you going to stay here? Do you know you have a home waitin' for ya'?"

Ghost finally stopped looking at the thing he had in his hand to look at his captain, who was with his brows furrowed but not in an angry expression.

" 'don't have a home."

My home was taken away the moment she went MIA.

His breathing began to grow more paused. That awful and familiar heavy feeling rose up from his chest through all his body. His fingers slowly put more pressure on his glass. The mask was down, he served himself a glass of whiskey to try and swallow that bitter sensation he always have when he thinks about her, but that didn't worked and caused him to lose interest in drinking that night.

Price just looked at him, not that look he always gives as a soldier, but as a friend that's worried about him. "Look, Simon. I know you want her back. Believe me, everyone wants her back. The team hasn't been the same since she left, but you can't let your emotions win the best of you. She wouldn't like you to be here drinking and swallowing your sorrow while having a home waiting for ya'."

Simon's eyes dropped to the petal he was holding in his hand. So soft and delicate, just like her eyes, her body, and her soul. He found it when he was taking a little stroll on his backyard, noticing the little red petal beside the flower he always looked at every day.

That was her flower.

She loved that flower so much. The instant she went MIA, he took responsibility for it. He would talk to it every day, as if the red flower would give him answers and tell him where she is.

His heart dropped when he saw the petal on the floor as a signal of losing hope.

A signal that he will never find her.

A signal that she will never return to him.

Ghost sighed. A shaky sigh. His world threatening to fall at any moment. The pillars that supported the last bit of sanity in his mind have started to grow cracks at the bases.

"Earlier today..." Ghost paused, trying to formulate his words. "I went to one of the old warehouses of the guy that kidnapped her owns. As I was searching for something that could lead me to her, I killed a few guys who worked for him. I also tortured two, but neither of them fucking knows a woman from the military in hands of that motherfucker."

Price sucked a breath as he hears those words, his pulse raising at an abnormal speed. Ghost didn't notify him that he was going to do something so dangerous without permission of his superiors.

That could cost the Captain's and the Lieutenant's job right there and then.

Instead of yelling or telling him that he's suspended for a least a month because of his reckless actions, Price just closed his eyes for a few seconds before he took the bottle of whiskey that was on the lieutenant's nightstand and drank a big shot of it.

Fuck, that's going to be a lot of paperwork for his ass.

Ghost passed his thumb over the petal, so lightly, afraid of breaking the little thing. It was almost as if somehow that red petal has some connection with her, and she can feel it.

He sighed again.

He missed her so much.

Price cleared his throat. His grip on the bottle tightened. "What did you do with the bodies?"

"I burned them."

Price just dropped his head low, probably thinking of his life choices before he took another sip from the bottle with those words. This time, he didn't stop drinking, trying to vanish with alcohol all the consequences and thoughts that were passing through his mind.

Ghost wasn't worried about the consequences or anything that came with his actions. When they took her away from him, a part of Simon died that day, only to be replaced with a void that would not go away until she's back. So, he gave those guys their destiny.

They are all gonna burn in hell.

And he will make sure of it.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Masterlist here

I apologize for some grammatical errors. Any suggestions are welcomed. 🫶🏻

[lmao-liz]

long distance video calls with soap

my first time writing anything and it’s smut ish. i’m usually a reader and recommender but god do I love this concept

cw: phone sex, mutual masterbation, vibrator use, voyeurism. (let me know if I missed anything)

you and johnny are in a new relationship. it’s your first relationship where the guys got an actual career. he’s someone important, he can’t tell you the details just that it’s demanding and can be dangerous at times.

you embrace the long distance phone calls and rare video chats. it’s worth it because when he’s home it's unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you know he’s military or something along those lines, the time differences and crazy schedules make it obvious.

after a few months together he opens up. tells you about the team, his cap, gaz, and of course simon. how the long hours and being away all the time gets to the team, he’s pissed none of them ever talk about it.

him having someone to come home to, it changed his mindset, he feels bad for them. it’s empathy, a bit of pity. he’s having such a good time with you, it’s not new for him to want to share the things he loves with his teammates.

the team just got settled into bed, working for almost two days straight in some random country, everyone was out as soon as they hit their pillows, deployment’s running too long. it feels like an eternity since he’s seen you, felt you. he knows he has to keep external contact as low as possible, but the thought of seeing you. it’s his forbidden fruit.

he’s a catholic, in hindsight not a great one, he kills, does unspeakable things for his job. so what’s another tally? one that he knows he deserves, because he’s been working so hard, it would be worth it.

the video call only rings twice before you pick up.

5:33 am.

he should be sorry for waking you up, but he needs you. you answer in the darkness of your room face illuminated by your phone screen. the lights are off in the barracks but you can see him in his bunk, shirtless, an arm tucked behind his head.

he looks like the product of a wet dream. one of which you’ve had too many of to be relaxed seeing him like this. he asks you what you’re wearing, tells you he needs you. he’s desperate, working long hours, going through all kinds of shitty situations. he says he’ll return the favour once he’s home. you know he will, he always does.

you don’t resist when he asks you to lift your shirt. you know he’s been working so hard, it’s the least you could do. he tells you to grab the vibrator he got you just before he left. knows how sometimes you need it quick and strong, not afraid of you liking it more than him, he knows how desperate you get while he’s gone for long periods of time.

he’s whispering praise to you, you can see the movement of his arm behind the screen. the laptop propped up on his drool worthy abs. it’s quick, the vibrator hitting in just the right spot, johnnys not the only desperate one. you haven’t seen him in months.

johnny knows he should turn his volume down. the sounds of your pleasure are bouncing off the walls of the small barracks. he just can’t help himself, too focused on your contorted face, your sounds, the quiet hum of your vibrator.

it should be embarrassing how fast he comes, but seeing you, even through a screen, it's more than he’s had, his imagination can’t compare to seeing the real thing. his grunts and heavy breathing are enough to push you over the edge. you both writhe in pleasure, thousands of miles between you too, but it’s not enough to keep you apart. you’re even more tired, a good orgasm and seeing johnny, you know he can’t stay on the line longer, but you want nothing more than to actually get a chance to talk.

he tells you he’ll be home soon, make up for him being gone longer than he said he would be. he wishes you a good night saying he's got another busy day tomorrow. you blow him a kiss goodbye, making him promise to come home safe.

“alweys dae lass”

the call ends, you set the vibrator and your phone back on your nightstand, rolling over and drifting back into dreamland.

johnny sets the laptop to his side, wondering how he’s going to clean himself up without waking everyone up. just when he’s about to say fuck it and sacrifice his boxers, a box of tissues hits his shoulder. he catches it before it hits the ground and looks to the bunk across the small room, he can see the outline of the infamous skull mask staring back at him.

“didn't know you had such a pretty bird waiting for you back home, johnny”

he swears he sees simon adjusting himself beneath his blankets. but it’s dark, he hasn’t slept in almost 40 hours. it’s just his mind playing tricks on him right?

is this actually good? I like it but it’s a word vomit of my thoughts so i’m insanely biased. do I continue writing or stick to recommendations…

[scorpiosleeps]

Liminal Spaces - 141

((For this to make even a little bit of sense, please go read the wonderful brainchild of the talented @notspiders - I've linked the post at the bottom, you can't miss it! All credit goes to them ♥))

Part 1 - The Woods

There's only ever been one rule - You're supposed to stay up in the watchtower when he isn't with you (a rare occurrence as he seems to hate being away even for a moment) and you'd think there'd be some pull, some inclination to explore and see things for yourself... but not really? (Not anymore). 

Sometimes there's a nagging, irritating feeling in the back of your head, it tells you to do silly things, dangerous things - like putting on your hiking boots, getting some essentials together... and running away. 

But that's silly. (And you shiver when you think about going out into the woods on your own.) 

It's cozy up in the watchtower, always the perfect temperature inside, always a drink fitting the weather set out waiting for you, a snack prepared in advance if you get peckish, a blanket or some fuzzy socks if it's chilly or a pair of sunglasses and a hat if the sunbeams are persistent.  

Your biggest weakness however - several piles of books by the bed. You.. don't really remember how long you've been here, but you've read so many books one would think you should have managed to make a dent in the stacks by now - but no. 

And it's not like you're complaining, not at all, every single book you've picked up thus far has scratched just the right itch for that day. (But it's weird, isn't it?) 

And you couldn't have asked for a better companion, he doesn't crowd you when you want to be alone (though he's never far from sight). If you want to spend the day reading away, he'll simply take the four-wheeler (that only ever works for him) and go on a provision run, it's kinda funny how those trips are always on days when you have no desire to leave the watchtower (right?). Or he'll go hunting - disappearing in to the woods without gear or weapons of any kind and yet always bringing back game slung over his strong, broad back.  

It's not that he refuses to take you with him (not at all, he loves your company!) it's just that when you go with him, the two of you always seem to get distracted and end up doing something completely different then what you set out to do. Like rock-climbing! Or he'll teach you how to throw axes, or tie a snare - always willing to please you, quick to laugh and even quicker with a joke. 

Some days, instead of being boisterous and smiling, blue eyes glittering with mischief, he will go quiet, contemplative and go sit out by the railing and watch the horizon. - And you've found yourself thinking, on more than one occasion that it's as if he is actively trying not to look at you. His fingers wrapped around the old rusty metal, knuckles white and taut. You learned quickly that he was best left alone on days like that. (So things don't get out of hand). 

He always keeps you safe though, even from yourself. Because as good as you have it here, sometimes you have bad days too and you get confused. You don't like yourself very much on those days, on those days you don't like your companion very much either, or at all in fact.  

The important thing is - He keeps you safe and even if you sulk and pout afterwards (his words, not yours), if you refuse to get out of bed and spend days simply laying curled up under covers and blankets staring out over the vast (never ending) stretch of forest surrounding you... he always takes care of you.  

You scream and shout and cry, accuse him of horrible things, of scary things.. and on really bad days he has to restrain you, take hold of your smacking hands and scratching nails and push you down in bed under his solid body. Holding you still while he coos and whispers sweet nothings in your ear (always with that warm highland tone) until you've calmed down, until you can breath again. When your head finally stops hurting, finally stops feeling like it's going to tear in two. 

And you can't fault him if his touch lingers, if he's reluctant to let you go. To release your body from under his much bigger one. And him grinding up against your core, slotting your body perfectly against his.. that's just to keep you from hurting yourself (Even if it short circuits your brain). So what if his eyes go a little crazed and stares at inappropriate places on your body - anyone can get cabin fever! 

He'll nail up an old bedsheet and set up the projector so you can watch movies together, or he'll pick up the book you've started on and read aloud - picking up right where you left off. 

And soon enough the bad mood will pass, it will slip away and you're back to enjoying yourself in the quiet of the watchtower, feeling at peace once more. 

More often than not he'll do voices for the characters, bring them to life with exaggerated accents and gesticulations, all to make you smile. Or he'll go completely off script and put on his own little show, just for your amusement, it never fails to leave you in stitches. 

He'll tempt you and entice you with delicious smelling foods, stacks of pancakes with butter and maple syrup, rich flavourful stews that leave you both groaning and unbuttoning your pants. Or he'll pull a pint of your favourite ice-cream out of the icebox, when you could have sworn, you'd run out days ago (Gaz only knows where he got it from).  

His big, steady arm wrapped around your shoulders, his nose pressed down at the top of your head, breathing you in, calming him down and stirring him up in equal measure. (Unbeknownst to you.) 

You're right where you should be, where you belong.

With him. 

[blingblong55]

Graves: what're ya gunna do to me? I ain't scared o' yew!

Ghost: we know, to American for that, we though someone else could deal wit' ya

*he steps back, allowing grave to see the door, it opens and two eyes stare at grave from the darkness, a wide manic grim full of sharp then appears as well, and graves eyes widen and he begins to struggle in the chair he's tied to*

Graves: no, no! Y-you need me! You can't kill me! Please!

*Ghost tunes and walks out of the room, passing a VERY pissed off from as they walk into the room. He closes the door behind him just as Graves starts screaming*

Trust, their wasn't nothing but blood and bits of fabric left

also, I just wanna clarify, this is what the ending of the zombie au looks like I'm the Grimaverse

Survivor:...so, are they gunns...leave?

Grim: *Ghost is Holding them around the waist, soap is clutching into their arm, gaz hovering very close by, price is also hovering but has his gun held tightly, glaring at the survivor* nope! Their my family, and it seems even a virus that removes all ounces of humanity can't fuck with that!

The boys are just feral now and can't speak, that's the only thing that's changed

They would be the kind to keep a leash around Grim and do the whole, "it don't bite" when they full on know Grim doesn't bite...they devour and laugh at the same time

They also know Grim wouldn't hurt them, which is why skin to skin contact with Grim isn't going to end up with Grim biting someone they love

And Graves was a nice snack...chew toy

[soupyoupyoupy]

Price riding bicycle

His Pricycle...

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Oh Captain, My Captain

My Little Note -> the 'Captain' John Price one-shot of 141 when the reader's apt gets broken into.

Warnings: slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, gender neutral however i have not proof read ୨୧

"I hope you had a nice night," John grubbles over the quiet music. He looks beautifully rugged in the streetlights that are gleaming into his car.

"I did thank you, got me out of the house which I haven't done for a while." I reply sincerely, turning away when John catches me staring. It causes my cheeks to burn up and a chesty chuckle to echo across my brain.

My thoughts are interrupted by the stop of his engine, I look up at my apartment and sigh, "thank you for dragging me out, I hope I see you soon."

"Nu-uh. Don't be silly, I'm going to walk you up. Need to make sure my heart's at rest knowing you're safe." John replies as he walks over to the passenger side and opens the door for me.

"What a gentleman," I gush just after thanking the chiviralous man. He really knows how to fill up a tumy with butterflies.

We don't talk much on the way to my apartment, probably because he was behind me and in his words 'making sure I don't fall.' Like we have literally had the same amount to drink, he is the most dramatic man I know.

Once we reached my floor, he quickly matched my pace to walk by me.

He noticed it before me, the thing that made my stomache drop and heart jump into my throat. My door was agar, the one that I defintely locked. I triple checked for crying out loud!

John looked back at me with a look of worry and sympathy.

"Make sure you stay behind me, I don't want you to get hurt." He says cautiously whilst retrieving the gun out of his holster. Thank god he is here, I don't know what I would do otherwise.

He steps into the apartment slowly, looking around it thoroughly. The state it's left in causes me to audibly gasp, it's ransacked. John looks back at me with a look that asks if I am okay to continue, I give a short, weak nod in response.

He must decide that not enough for him because he swiftly turns us around and rushes us back down stairs and into his truck. He once again opens the door for me and only then, in the comfort of his car I ask a question, "what are we doing?"

"Well, I am going to call one of the boys to finish checking up and take you home with me. At least fot the night, is that okay?" He answers as he pulls out his phone to get 'one of the boys' on the phone.

"Thank you." I nod slightly sitting back, relaxing into the seat of his car. I let my eyes close and the softness of the radio soothes me into a peaceful sleep.

I wake up to the musky scent of Price's cologne surrounding me and I bury my head closer to the source - his sturdy chest that I was resting on as he carried me into his house.

"Goodmorning sleepy," John says as my eyes flutter open. I hum in responce, too enchanted with the fact I'm safely in this hunk of a man's arms.

He carries me into the house, only putting me down once he reached the bed.

"Okay, you can stay in here and I will be on the couch just in the living-room, I'll set out a tee-shirt andsome boxers for you to wear. Just wake me up if you need anything," he says rumaging through his drawers.

"We are both adults, can you please stay..?" I hesitantly ask.

"Of course I can love."

<3

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

[lisenberry]

A little early for WIP Wednesday, but I've been thinking about this one for a while and it had me in a chokehold this morning. Snippet from something longer.

Alpha Bountyhunter!Price x Omega Saloon Madam!Reader

Western in the vein of Deadwood, Godless, and Silverado (thank you @thecoziestbean)

Title: I was born to run, you were born to stay (so hold me close)

CW: Violence, murder, sex work, ABO/Omegaverse, past trauma

“Are you the madam?”  The timbre of his voice spoke to a memory you’ll never forget.

If you had a doubt before, thinking your eyes and your olfactory deceived you, you were sure as shit now.

“I am.  And don’t bother, I know who you are.  A lawman in Chicago, before the war?”

“Yeah, I was there.” As if he got the question all the time. As if he was famous or something.

“Sergeant John Price?  You gunned down my daddy like he was a mad dog in the street.”

“I've killed a lot of daddies. Did he deserve it?”  He licked at the foamy bubbles of beer clinging to his thick, dark mustache before wiping it with the back of his hand.

His glacial eyes fixed on yours, assessing.

“Maybe.  But I sure as hell didn’t.” 

His gaze slipped down to the scarf around your neck, strategically placed to muddy your scent and disguise your bitten gland. 

“It's Captain now. Never met a mated whore before.”  He finished his drink with a long, thirsty pull.  Simultaneously changing the subject of his culpability in the wayward trajectory of your life, and daring to insult you for it.

“Widowed.”  You challenged his derision with a light tone, as you replaced his empty mug with a fresh fill.

“I’m sorry, and for the offense as well.  What happened to him?”  He didn’t seem very sorry.  In fact, you imagined it was a disposition as foreign to him as couth.  

“He was shot in the face.  Very tragic.”  A sweet, satisfied smile graced your lips.

“You sound real tore up about it.”

“I was.  The recoil on that rifle nearly dislocated my shoulder.”  Your boldness was rewarded with a surprised, choking snort.

“Is there a warrant out for your arrest anywhere?”  he asked, recovering with an inquisitive grin.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.  Truss me up and drag me in?”  You were playing with fire, judging by the flare of hot blue light that accompanied the sharp huff of air into his nose.  Like a bull chuffing at the dirt.

But you were too long in the tooth to be simpering for ornery old alphas.  After what he’d done to you, it seemed only right to give him a bit of trouble.

“No, I imagine you’d just put me down all swift and quiet like, not wanting the fight.”  If he was going to insult your honor, you’d give it right back.

But he didn’t rise to the bait.  Not as quick to anger as that last lingering impression you had of him from years ago.  Shame, it was a sight.

“Do I have to worry about you, darling?” An unsettling warmth displaced any suspicion in his words.

You glanced down at the bar top, to see just how close his hand was to yours.  A tingle of electricity drawing you in against your will.

Can’t fight your nature, child.  It’d been the last thing your grieving mama said to you before you were loaded onto that stock car filled with young, first heat omegas.  Alongside the cattle slated for auction.  Each one moaning and crying a different tune.

“Reckon you’d be a fool not to, Captain.” 

[maxismp1]

I need help finding a fic!!

It was long time ago and idk if I reblog but it was sum like this

Reader was a creature, the 141 associated her by crows.

Thwy would go to cteppy places for missions and get the warnings by crows

One was with one of the boys in a chapel and the reader being like "confess your sins"

HELPPP

[vanillaberrychills]

cw: post sex drabble, naked bodies

— Well, you done fucked up.

Look at you, waking up in bed right next to that hot neighbor, what was his name again? Simon? Yeah. He had been staring at you the past few weeks since moving in, and you thought he was cute, so of course you thought to yourself, "What's the harm in one good fuck?"

Everything. God he had such a good dick, and he knew how to use it, the benefit of an older man you supposed. By the third time you came you were face down into his soft pillow, whimpering and mewling like a cat in heat. And of course he had the audacity to give your ass a little slap, slowly easing out of you. A hand rubbing your aching tummy, maybe a few wet kisses pressed to your back as he laid on top of you.

A soft coo to follow, "Ah love, you took me so well, look at you, sweet thing."

All you could do was sigh into his big broad muscles, sniffling softly in exhaustion. And of course you fell asleep to his warm, comforting words, and gentle hands caressing you.

And when you woke up, he had you in an absolute death grip, one that signified that this would not be a one night stand. Of course, you could struggle and try to tug out of his big, burly arms. But the moment you heard a slow inhale and feel his grip tighten, you knew you were locked in.

A warm kiss pressed to your back, his rumbly voice crooning in your ear, "Where do you think yer going, love?"

And just maybe, you would let your eyes fall shut, a few more hours of sleep would surely loosen his grip, right??

[whoslibby]

when ghost came back from deployment he had just got paid and of course wanted to treat his darling wifey. he took you to the mall and you began shopping picking out some clothes before finding some adorable flared jeans. you picked them in your size before heading to the dressing room with simon trailing behind, two bags in hand.

you pulled on the flared jeans they only got to your thighs. you pulled them off checking the label it was your size.. they just didn’t fit. you tried again and it only got to a quarter over your ass.

‘eveythin’ okay in there?’ simon asks through the curtain he kept shut for you. not trusting it.

‘no…’ you admitted, a little bit of frustration growing.

he opened the curtain and walked in before shutting the curtain. he looked down seeing how it didn’t go. ‘they don’t fit,’ you tell him looking up with glassy eyes. you were always this size, yeah maybe you put on some christmas weight but still you never went up.

‘so? get ya the bigger one, no big deal,’ he tells you as if it was nothing. because it was nothing, just some overthinking and stressing. si left and got you the bigger size before returning. he handed you the new trousers before putting the new ones on.

‘they fit?’ he asks in a mutter, you were never to keen on everyone knowing your business. he came in to the little dresser seeing them. he had a half smirk at the way the jeans fit your ass, your curves looked great. ‘see no big deal,’ he smiles at you.

you smiled, it was no big deal it was a pair of jeans and so what if you got the bigger size? you looked stunning and you always look stunning.

[oceantornadoo]

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

--

part one part two part three part four

[marsbabysblog]

giggles

tw: smut smut smut! fingering; clit play; giggling during sex; reader is fucked dumb; fem!reader; clit play; overstim

summary: basically reader has been fucked stupid and can’t stop laughing. it’s cute and fluffy 🫶

simon’s made you came more times than you can count. you’ve been on your back for hours with your back arched and mouth wide open. tears streamed down your face as simon’s big fingers fucked into your abused hole. his thumb was rubbing your swollen clit and his other large hand was holding your hips down, keeping you still.

“si- i can’t-!!” you could barley say a full sentence.

“yeah you can baby girl, one more. give me one more.” he sounded more fucked out then you. his throbbing cock pressing hard against his jeans.

your pussy was soaked as your squirted hard all over his hand and forearm. your threw your head back and tried to squirm away from his touch, but he wouldn’t let you. making your ride out your high.

“there y’a go, such a good fucking girl.” he growled out. you tried to catch your breathe after riding out your high, he finally tore his soaked hand away from your gaping pussy. you looked down at him with a fucked out look, your brain felt dizzy. your not sure why but you started to giggle.

“what’s so funny baby girl?” he chuckled back, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“i don’t know…” you slurred out like you were drunk off your orgasms.

“yeah, did i fuck you dumb sweetheart?” he said with a mocking tone that made your fucked out pussy clench around nothing.

“si~” you moaned out, “please?~”

“maybe a little later baby, you gotta catch your breathe…k?” you nodded and closed your eyes, snuggling into his touch.

————————————————————————

definitely not my best work but i tried 😭 pls feel free to leave some requests. i’ve been gone for a while due to school but now it’s christmas break so i’ll be good to write! love you all 🫶🫶

[teamblck]

haven’t seen one for gaz yet and i do NOT tolerate gaz erasure

[elexaria]

simon’s that guy. “don’t want a cat, for fuck’s sake.” he grumbles as you plead and beg, using the ol’ reliable puppy dog eyes to try and egg him on. “no, love. ‘m allergic.” he blatantly lies, sniffing as he looks down at you, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“no you’re not, simon.” you huff, rolling your eyes as you purposely ruffle his hair. it makes him chuckle, how quick you were to call him out. “fairs.” he replies, leaning back against the headboard with a smug grin. “still not getting a cat, though.”

the day you bring home the bundle of fur and purrs back from the adoption centre, simon’s not impressed. he stands in the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed as he watches the tuxedo cat pad around the kitchen curiously. “look at it. ‘ts just a bag of fleas.” he grimaces, looking at you with a deadpan expression. he’s such a sour puss, it makes you giggle as you kneel down to croon at the kitty, baby talking to it— which makes si groan and roll his eyes. “can’t deal with this.” he grumbles out, leaving you to suck up to the new addition to the riley family.

he’s so adamant he doesn’t like the cat!! he gives it the stink eye, sticks his middle finger up at it whenever it stares at him and calls it fat. “need’t go to weight watchers, fatty.” he teases as he watches it chow down on some food. you playfully chide him by swatting his shoulder, eliciting a deep rumble of amusement. “what? not exactly lyin’, am i?” he replies, grinning as he pulls you in close against him, peppering kisses over your face childishly.

he’s not slick, though. you accidentally notice it one day when passing the kitchen. you halt in your tracks, stealthily peeking round the corner as you watch simon crouching low, baby talking to the cat as he puts out some treats for it to nibble at. “such a fat puddy tat, ain’t ya? oh my.” he croons down at the furry fiend, who’s purring up a storm as it rubs its scent against his legs.

and then you can’t not see it. the cat pawing at the bathroom door, mewling for attention from si as he takes a shower. or the time you came home, finding the two of them napping on the sofa. the cat chirping happily when you walk in, stretching and pawing his face, which elicits a gruff chuckle. “ey, stop it, you.” he affectionately says to the cat, his eyes still shut as he continues to blissfully nap with a purring weight nestled on his chest.

it finally comes to an end when the three of you are relaxing in bed, you’re nestled up to simon while the cat lays at your feet. it begins to playfully swat simon’s toes, making him yelp and laugh something fierce. “oi!” he chuckles, wiggling his toes at the cat. it makes you look up at simon, amused as you shake your head. “you and that bloody cat, get a room.” you tease, nudging him with a grin. he snorts, nudging you back with a grin to match. “someone’s jealous, eh? don’t worry, i don’t love the cat more than you.”

he shoots a wink at the cat, hiding his mouth with his hand as he whispers loudly, “don’t listen to that, i love you more than them. we’re for lifers, mate.” before looking over at you with an impish expression. this man’s gonna be the death of you.