bats-in-the-attic

[bats-in-the-attic]

thinking about sleeping next to simon thanks to @thatsamericasass24

“What’re you doing up this late?” His gruff voice rang out, empty bottle in hand coming to fill it in the sink here, but all rationality seemed to run to waste when he saw your state.

For some reason, you cant sleep in your bed tonight whether that’s because of a giant spider, a nightmare scaring you or your bed entirely breaking mid sleep. Either way, you’re shaking in the common room, hands wrapped around a warm mug as you recount the previous events like a broken tape playing the same part.

With that, he had ushered you into his bedroom, knowing he couldnt just leave you to tremble any longer on that couch. He never planned to sleep beside you, no, he would only lay next to you, make sure that shiver stopped. He settles in the bed first, making sure to be on the edge before patting the space next to him in the dark room, only the small lamplight glowing up the untouched sheets.

You let out a soft breath of relief as you shuffle beneath the covers beside him, only to tense up immediately when your leg collides with his. “Sorry!” You squeak out, shuffling forward only to meet your tipping point, your hand gripping the bedframe to stop you from completely falling off the mattress. You were seconds away from falling off altogether but you couldn’t fathom complaining so you just lay there, squashed into yourself to avoid touching him once more— your hands still holding on desperately so you dont fall off the bed altogether.

His teeth grit as he watches the situation unfold, clearly having underestimated just how large he was. Of course his own bed was more than sufficient for himself— he didnt really think twice when his arm fell off the bed in the mornings. so he figured the same would apply to you. Now he could only watch as you lay stiffly, trying your best not to be ungrateful for his help but it was a little difficult when you felt more on edge than before. Literally.

He taps your shoulder and motions for you to face him, which you do, rolling over when your shoulder brushes his arm once more, a flush on your cheek.. Looking down between you two, there’s only an inch of space at best, and even so, he’s not even in a comfortable position. “Sorry— i’ll just go back to mine-“ You begin but he shakes his head, settling himself properly in the bed until his arms bump yours.

“Hold onto me.” You blink in surprise and instinctively follow his instructions, reaching an arm out before he guides your hand to settle over the expanse his chest. He would’ve wrapped you up tightly with his own arms, keeping you safe in his strong grip. However, the last thing he’d want is to scare you off by being his usually rough self. This way you could choose what you wanted to do, without feeling pressured to comply.

And you do, your hand snug over his chest as your body slowly pushes more against his, right in the crook of him. “I think my arm is too short.” He loves the way your lips quirk up into a nervous grin, afraid yet still finding entertainment in the silliness of this situation. He shuffles onto his side instead, every inch of him pressing against your body as he moves. “You gonna keep being cheeky or can i hold you properly?” He knew what you were implying but it was best to be sure, especially from how shaken up you were earlier. “The latter, please.”

You let out a soft squeal as he wraps his large arm around you, his forearm pressing against your back as he tucks your head into his neck. “ ‘m not gonna let you fall off. Close yer eyes.” He squeezes you a little, forcing the breath you’ve been holding in the corner of your lungs for hours now to finally release. Your eyes flitter, the warm skin of his neck bringing colour back to your cheeks. The panic from before dissipates now, sleepy eyes drifting close as your hand reaches around, only landing on his side at best. “Night, Si.” You squeeze him just as tight, your nose nudging his neck and he chuckles, never having thought he’d ever be able to hold you like this.

“Night, sweetheart.”

[bats-in-the-attic]

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends that suddenly remembers you exist and roams the house seeking you out. No real rhyme or reason to it he just wants to see you, peeks into wherever you are and reminds himself you’re still around.

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends who randomly grabs you and shakes you around, I fear you’re going to be a victim of cuteness aggression for the rest of your life.

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends who grabs at your ass when he’s bored, like it’s his own personal stress ball. Same thing with your tits.

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends who blows raspberries into your stomach while he’s laying down on you, even if you hate it. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends who knows how to have a laugh when you’re having sex. He brought a glow in the dark condom once and you said his dick looks like a neon green Kermit and he laughed so hard he almost forgot where he was. Almost.

Johnny’s one of those boyfriends who actively gets upset if you try to crawl away from him while you’re cuddling, like ACTUALLY upset, it’s not even funny, don’t try it.

[bats-in-the-attic]

The Cod Boys, but it's us that jealous this time?

jealousy, jealousy pt. 2

synopsis: you get jealous

ੈ✩‧₊˚ price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, makarov, keegan, nikolai

cw: none

an: writers block is beating my ass 😭

i’m (slowly) making my way through requests but i’m gonna be honest, i have no ideas for some of them so i might just skip them,,, 😓

masterlist

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[bats-in-the-attic]

Niko has a point tho 😂

Prompt idea: The reader just sends the most horrid hear me out. Like sending a hear me out of Phillip to Alejandro.

“hear me out”

synopsis: sending the cod guys a questionable hear me out

ੈ✩‧₊˚ price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, makarov, keegan, nikolai

cw: suggestive jokes, slutshaming of an m&m

an: tried to keep these relatively tame because some of my hear me outs are actually insane. also would anyone gaf if i shared my sexuality headcanons for them…

masterlist

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[bats-in-the-attic]

ERO404 •

[bats-in-the-attic]

GHOST who never would’ve expected that he’d come back home one day to find you in sexy Christmas outfit, waiting for him by the door of the bedroom that you both had been sharing.

“Love, what?” He could only ask as he placed his backpack on the floor and loosened the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling hot and bothered.

“What?” You asked back innocently, leaning against the doorframe, staring up at him with a soft smile. The dress was soft but short, with white down trims on the skirt. The Santa’s hat on the top of your head looked a little too big.

After taking in your outfit a bit longer, he finally approached you, sliding his big, rough hands down your hips, feeling the material.

“Santa came early?” He said in suggestive tone, looking down at you with those eyes that said he was ready to devour you whole right on the spot.

His hands wandered down, under the edge of the velvet, red skirt, feeling that besides the fishnet tights, there’s really nothing else. Just your skin.

“And someone unwrapped my gift.” He growled playfully, grabbing your thighs to pick you up, causing you to gasp, and carrying you to the bed.

Santa might’ve came early this year, but Ghost definitely didn’t.

[bats-in-the-attic]

simon who meets you way past his supposed expiration date, decades after he's buried ghost for the last time. there are more wrinkles than scars on his body at this point, a deeper kind of pain settling into his aching joints.

price, more settled into his retirement (thanks to the wife he picked up shortly before his notice), tells him to go to the doctor -- like a normal person. a civilian. price did it at the behest of his wife, but simon...simon doesn't have anyone to hold him accountable. not since...well, not since johnny.

and he hates it. the doctor asks too many personal questions, touches him without warning, before shuffling his fingers over a keyboard and handing simon a written referral for six weeks of physical therapy.

if he hated the doctor, he absolutely loathed physical therapy. it was never a high priority when he was actually in the military -- give him an over-the-counter painkiller and some butterfly stitches, he'd be right as rain. he does simple stretches and easy exercises with a grimace, earning glowing faces and praise from his therapists. but it only makes him feel small, like a child learning to walk.

until he overhears you discussing your healing with your therapist. "maybe i never knew how to properly walk to begin with, isn't that funny? you do something so long, you forget how it works."

yeah, he's familiar with that sentiment.

so he awkwardly strikes up a conversation, chapped lips forming around words he's never thought to say -- in fact, always hated. why are you here, what do you do for work, do you like the rain, how do you take your tea.

you answer too easily, like you've been doing it all your life. a long, good life, if the smile lines and and spine tension are any indication. you're older, not as old as him, but old enough to know when someone needs a conversation just as much as you. even if it's odd, full of pregnant pauses and mumbled replies that you have to ask him to repeat.

you don't necessarily notice when the change happens, but it does. the weathered, lumbering retiree sitting in the waiting room every time you come in for an appointment, handing you the perfect tea from your favorite shop. you don't question how all of your appointments seem to coincide, it's just nice to have someone to laugh with while you're tightening your core. he doesn't reveal too much about himself, but his corny dad jokes add a bit of levity to your dull routine.

the first time you touch him, innocuously placing a hand on his shoulder as you adjust the heel of your running shoe, he knows he cannot reach that 6-week mark without feeling it again. more of it, really. his body doesn't ache like it used to, not with tightness or lack of use, but a strange heat that spreads and relieves his tension. it's unrecognizable, the way his old heart thunders in his chest, something he hasn't experienced in decades. a feeling so ancient he never thought to consider it again.

not since...well, not since johnny.

johnny, who he finds himself thinking of more than ever in the lead up to his final appointment. johnny, with his blue, clear eyes that always kept him honest. johnny, who could temper or exacerbate simon's rage with just a smile. johnny, who would have driven him to every single appointment and made sure he kept up with the exercises at home. johnny, who he loved with his whole heart.

which is why -- on his last day of appointments, between final measurements and discussions with his therapist -- when you simply say, "we should stay in touch after this. keep each other accountable, y'know?", he falls.

or rather, jumps. because that's what johnny would do.

[bats-in-the-attic]

free use bottom who's a pillar of the community call that a load bearing structure

[bats-in-the-attic]

stress reliever

[bats-in-the-attic]

Retired!JohnPrice, who, after retiring, bought a cabin in a small town where everyone knew everyone. He was a stranger, and people talked about him all the time. They wanted to know where he was from, why he came to their town, and what he wanted. He didn’t have a lot to do in his free time. He restored the cabin he stayed in; the roof was leaking, he needed to buy new kitchen supplies, and the attic needed good cleaning. The previous owner left all their stuff there. John came to the conclusion that the previous owner loved to read. There were books everywhere. The old bedroom had one huge bookshelf filled with romance books. Until now, he didn’t even know that there were so many books with hot men on the cover. He felt sorry to just throw them away; the books were in good shape, and they could make someone very happy.

That was how he found you. After searching the town for a charity shop or something, he found a library where you worked. You greeted him with a smile, and he was enchanted. He explained to you that he would like to donate books to the library and asked if you could help him with the process. You agreed that after work, you would visit him and make a list of the books he had. When you arrived at his cabin, he told you that he had made dinner, and he would love if you could join him. It had been a while since someone had cooked for you, so you accepted his offer. After dinner, you went through the books in his bedroom. You blushed the whole time, looking up the titles of the books, and John didn’t make your job easier. He read aloud some parts of the books, each scene steamier than the previous. After you were done, he drove you home. He didn’t want a pretty girl like you to go home in the dark. He knew that the town was safe, but he needed to be sure that you got home okay. John promised that he would bring the books to the library tomorrow and help you with them. The whole evening, he tried to get your number so he could ask you out, and now he had the perfect chance for it. He said that he needed it to call you tomorrow when he would come. On the drive back home, he thought about how enchanting it was to meet you.

You felt the same. You had butterflies in your stomach since the moment he walked through the library door. The same old tired, lonely place vanished when you saw his face. You felt like a schoolgirl having a crush on the older boys, but now you felt like he might have a crush on you too. You were blushing the whole way home, hoping that he would ask you out. You eagerly awaited the whole morning for when he would text you that he was on the way. After lunch, you started to lose hope that he would show up. He told you that he would come before your lunch break so that he could take you out for lunch. You felt stupid; you didn’t ask for his number, and now you had no way to contact him. Yes, you could go to his house, but you were not that desperate, and it would be weird if you just showed up. You tried to distract yourself with work, but it didn’t stop your wandering thoughts. What if he had someone, and you were too flirty, and now, he didn’t want to talk to you? Maybe he was just a friendly neighbor who wanted to do something nice for the community. Maybe you just imagined the spark that was between you and him. You hoped that this was the very first page and not where the storyline ended.

Just before closing time, you heard the bell above the door, and you wondered who could come this late. It was John, who immediately started to apologize. He said that his bathroom pipes had broken, and the water flooded the entire bathroom. He had to get it fixed quickly, and it was so much work that he didn’t have time to come up and see you. At first, you didn’t believe him, but after he came closer, you could see that his hands were dirty, and his pants still had some water stains. You invited him to your place, and he drove you there, still trying to apologize. He said that he would make it up to you, take you on a proper date, buy you flowers, and take you somewhere romantic where you could have your first date. When you arrived at your place, you cooked dinner for both of you. He spent the evening with you, asking so many questions about your job, your life, and other things. John insisted on leaving just before midnight. You walked him out to his car, and when he thanked you for the dinner, you kissed him. He was too much of a gentleman to kiss a girl on the very first night, so you had to take control into your own hands. After the kiss, it didn’t take much to convince him to come back to your house and eventually to your bed.

Masterlist

[bats-in-the-attic]

[bats-in-the-attic]

warnings: slight, unsaid breeding kink. begging konig to nut in you. he is also kind of obsessed with you.

just a small blurb about konig, it's been sitting in my drafts for a long time. teehee.

word count: 423

Konig had no self-control. Once he experienced something that he enjoyed, then he would indulge it to the extreme. When he tasted a good snack, he brought them in bulk, or when he ate you out for the first time, it took all your strength to push Konig’s head away after hours of his tongue exploring your folds.

He was obsessed with everything about you, which Konig learned very early on. He was so obsessed that he would indulge in anything pertaining to you.

That’s why he never fucked you raw. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming inside of you at any given moment if he ever got to feel your slick pussy wrapped around his cock. He promised you that he trusted you and that he just wanted to make sure that there were no slip-ups.

Konig didn’t know that with one soft whine and big puppy dog eyes, you would break his foil-proof plan. You were so desperate for him when he walked through the door, basically ripping his pants off. You told him to just “pull out” when he said that he didn’t stop at the store to buy condoms.

That’s how he ended with having you folded into the meanest mating press, slamming into you raw. It was a new feeling, a great feeling. A feeling that Konig needed to feel all the time. The bed squeaked and creaked at each thrust, Konig’s large hands gripping your thighs tightly as he groaned into your neck.

“S-Such a slutty pussy you have, meine liebe.” Konig whimpered into your ear, “You just couldn’t wait for me to g-go get some condoms, could you?”

Your mind was blank, getting more mindless with each thrust. You babbled out utter nonsense, your nails digging into Konig’s back. “Answer me.” He grunted, “You wanted this. You wanted me to fuck you raw, so I could fill you up, didn’t you? You want me to knock you up?”

He lifted his head and upper body a bit to wrap his hand around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze. “Yes, p-please, cum in me. Fuck, knock me up.” You crossed your ankles behind his head.

Konig’s brain was short-circuiting, you were so wet and gripping him so tightly. How was he supposed to deny you what you wanted? His precious girl wanted him to fill her up then he was going to do it.

And truly what was the worst that could happen if he fucked his seed into you all the time?

[bats-in-the-attic]

@axophyllic this is what I think König’s hands look like💅✨

[bats-in-the-attic]

I want to be someone’s favourite PLEASE

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

[bats-in-the-attic]

simon is a husky and in a good way

a guard dog, protector, and provider, this man will not let you lift a fooken' finga'. it's relieving, comforting, and freeing.

being so on guard with yourself and your feelings, projecting a "masculine" energy, finally someone understands that femininity is earned- honestly, it scares you how quick your brain turns off when you're with him.

don't know where to eat? "tha's olright, go' a place reserved- your favori' too."

not sure where to go for a date? "shoppin'll fix ya right up- big bonus from a mission."

and you're willing to listen to him, willing to hear his word and follow his advice and heed like a fucking prayer.

bad vibes from her? good, cutting her off immediately.

he seems like a muppet? blocked, reported, and out of mind.

hell, he'll even drag you away when he feels you've done enough for a night, or maybe when you're just a bit tired.

and you don't mind. as much as he's a well trained dog, you listen just a well.

[bats-in-the-attic]

I know we all like to cast Price as assigned husband at birth (ahab if you will) but lately I’ve been getting more into the idea of older bf! Price who’s already failed one marriage.

Like, he and his ex are cordial, but there were too many hurt feelings at the end for them to ever feel comfortable being friends. Price isn’t the one who asked to split, but he didn’t fight it either—he knows he’s hard to love. He knows his job is too much for anyone sane to deal with.

He resigns himself to divorced life and tries to be happy.

Then, he meets you. A cute young thing with the sparkle still in your eye. Maybe at the grocery store, or at a restaurant with only the two of you in it. He feels his broken heart beat a little. He tells himself to leave it—you’re too nice, too good for him to spoil. He fails, and three months later there’s a drawer in his bedroom stuffed with your clothes and a set of your toiletries in his bathroom.

It isn’t like his first serious relationship. The age gap between you and him is substantial enough that you grew up in a world very different from his; you aren’t fussing about meeting parents, or five-year plans, or how many kids he isn’t giving you. Maybe it’s because you don’t take this as seriously as him—he doesn’t know.

What he does know is that it’s his name you’re crying out when he’s got you in his bed, knees pressed up to your ears. What he does know is that he likes making you breakfast when you stay over. What he does know is that he’s the one you call when your door starts scraping the frame, or your tires need rotating, or you’re lonely and you want some company while some trash TV plays in the background.

He may have screwed up his first marriage, but certificate or no, he’s learned enough how not to fuck up his second.

Edit: some kind of part two

[bats-in-the-attic]

— in command.

price may be a hardened soldier, but one thing’s for sure—his command doesn’t extend in his own home.

i love the idea of a big strong man being utterly powerless to his wife i love it so much

as captain of task force 141, john price is used to people falling in line the moment he speaks. his presence alone is enough to command respect—a hardened soldier, a leader who doesn’t waste words.
but you?
you’re his wife, and you’re not afraid to cut him down to size.

“john, what the hell?” you say sharply, standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed. “wet boots on the carpet again? honestly, do you ever think before you step inside?”

he stays silent, hands resting on his hips, his eyes fixed on you. most people would be too nervous to keep talking, but you’re not most people. “told you once, told you a thousand times—take them off by the door. it’s not that hard, john. do you know how long it takes to clean this up?”

“you might get to play captain out there, but in this house? you’re just john,” you continue, stepping closer. “and john wipes his boots before he comes in—or better yet, he takes them off like a civilized human being. because look what doing otherwise has gotten us into.” you gesture to the muddy footprints leading across the room, glaring at the trail that winds its way onto the freshly vacuumed rug.

your voice is steady, your gaze unwavering, and john feels the faintest heat creeping up the back of his neck. you’re fiery, sharp, and so damn sure of yourself, and god help him, he loves it.

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to respond. “well? got anything to say for yourself?”

he clears his throat, shifting slightly as he adjusts his stance. his trousers feel a little too snug, the result of something far from appropriate given the fact you’re practically telling him off. still, there’s no denying the effect you have on him—your confidence, your passion, the way you hold your ground no matter who’s on the other side of it.

“won’t happen again, ma’am,” he finally says, his voice low and steady.

your glare softens, and the faintest smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. you turn away, muttering something under your breath about him being impossible, but john’s already watching you with something close to awe.

he may be a captain out there, but in this household? you’re the damn president.