loveergirll

[loveergirll]

Simon hated the tapping out ceremony. Ever since he first had to partake in one, he despised it. With no family and very few friends, he was usually the last on the field, waiting until one of his superiors would tap him out. But he couldn’t skip them either.

So there he was. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of soldiers lined up in neat little rows, standing at attention while they waited for their loved ones. And they came quickly. One soldier after the other was tapped out by their parents, siblings, spouse, and sometimes even children. But he stayed still, watching the happy reunions out of the corner of his eyes. Watching the tears and hugs and kisses. He envied the others; he was jealous of what they had, and he didn’t. But Simon had always been good at following orders, so he didn’t move, barely even blinked as he was surrounded by happiness, while he drowned in his own sorrow.

After an hour, there was only one other soldier left. Simon had barely interacted with him, but he knew his face. And just when Simon thought he wouldn’t be the only one without someone to tap him out this time, a crowd of eight people moved toward the soldier. At the front was an older-looking woman, her brown hair streaked with grey and lines on her face, indicating her age. Around her were people of all ages and genders.

“My son!” The woman let out a sob as she finally threw her arms around the soldier’s neck, causing the man to chuckle, as he hugged her back. “I missed you too, mama.”

One by one, he talked to the people surrounding him, hugged them, and kissed them. Simon couldn’t help but watch, bile rising in his throat as jealousy threatened to overtake him. And as he watched, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the soldier’s stead. Surrounded by a happy, loud, and loving family. People who were happy to see him. Nowadays, the only people he could call family were the guys from the 141, and they were away on a mission. Still, in his mind, the scene played out. His mother, smiling, rushing toward him. Followed by his brother and his wife, carrying his nephew.

The daydream was interrupted by someone walking toward him. He expected it to be his superior, there to finally release him from the nightmare. But it wasn’t.

A young woman took timid steps in his direction. Her eyes, bright but filled with sadness. Not her own sadness, though, it was sadness she felt for him. He didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t blink. She came to a stop in front of him, gazing up with a frown.

“Is someone coming?” Simon hesitated before giving an almost invisible shake of his head. She gasped, it was quiet and he barely heard it, but he felt it. In every bone, he felt her sadness and the sorrow she carried for him. Slowly, as if not to startle him, she lifted her hand, until it was inches away from his chest. “Is…is this okay?” When he gave a slight nod, she gently pressed her hand against his chest, finally tapping him out.

A breath he didn’t realize he had been holding escaped him as he finally turned to properly look at the woman. She was still gazing up at him, a soft smile now replacing the frown on her face.

“Thank you.” She nodded in response before glancing back at her family. When she looked back at Simon, she looked determined. “We’re going out to eat dinner if you’d like to join us?” Simon was about to decline when someone called out to him.

“Oi! Ghost!” He looked up and saw the soldier, now facing him, an arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. “Let’s go; my mom says dinner’s on us!” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and started walking toward the car park, his entire family in tow. Simon kept looking after him until a soft, small hand slipped into his own. He glanced down and found the woman smiling up at him.

“Come, my mom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” And with those words, the woman gently led him to follow her family.

A/N: This will be a two-parter. I hope you liked it!

[loveergirll]

the men and their favorite girl scout cookies

price- samoas/caramel delites

gaz- peanut butter patties

ghost- lemonades

soap- thin mints

[loveergirll]

Been thinking abt retired price a lot

Outside doing yard work, all but barking at you to stay your ass inside cause he’s got it.

Perching up behind him on the couch to rub his shoulders, joints aching because military service and age seem to be worse on certain days.

If you still work, John will grumble every few days about how “you don’t need to work love, can take care of ya.” Which you know and assure him of that as you kiss him while getting out of bed. He’ll sit in the bathroom as you get ready, make you your preferred morning drink and maybe even pack your lunch.

“John you don’t need to-��

“Least I can do, not jus’ gonna sit around and let my pretty wife have a million things to do.”

Grumbles about gaining weight every time you make a meal, which is most nights. Seeing John a bit softer around the edges puts your mind at ease. It’s not often he gets strung up on how he’s not as cut as he used to be, but when he does you spend a few hours assuring him with kisses and then some that, “Love the way you look John- part of the whole marriage plan I had actually. Needed a nice body pillow.” Which earns a chuckle, before you’re bouncing in his lap murmuring how much you adore him and like treating him well.

Being the host for the get together dinners John drags the 141 into. An excuse to see his boys again, and an excuse to show off the pretty thing he gets to see everyday.

[loveergirll]

cw: sexual content

Maybe it’s bc I see Price as such a bear dude. But I think he’s really protective over sleep. Always telling people to get their rest. And I like to think about him having a sleepy ass fuckin’ girlfriend. Soon as he gets you in the car, it’s lights out. And he drives so so carefully because he’s got precious, sleepy cargo. If the tv is on and the lights are off and you’re against him under a blanket? Passed the fuck out.

And he will go to the ends of the earth to keep you sleeping peacefully. He’ll always carry you rather than wake you up. This man is letting his legs fall asleep all the damned time.

And he gets so fucking mad if you get woken up by something. Everybody knows when Price’s girl is on base, cause that means you’re sleeping in his office and no one had better not go bursting in or he’s gonna tear them a new one for interrupting his babygirl’s 3rd afternoon nap.

Uhm. And I’m just gonna say it. You’re a cockwarming queen. In his lap, wrapped up around him, just keeping him company while he works and you get some rest. That’s the way it should be, he thinks.

And. Uh. Uhm. He lets you use that thang as your own personal pacifier. You relax so easy when his cock is in your mouth, he can’t deny you that.

[loveergirll]

Johnny, after falling 30ish feet, calling up to reader and Simon: ITS NO THA BAD.

Reader: absolutely not-

Simon, picking reader up: Down we go

Reader: NO-

[loveergirll]

simon “emotionally stunted” riley who is forever bumping into you. he can’t think of any other ways to touch you, at least on a regular basis, so he’ll hide behind corners and slip out at the last second, tsking as you smack into his chest face-first. he’ll merely glare (ogle) as you stutter out apologies, slipping past you and grumbling on about how clumsy you are while tugging the seam of his hoodie to mask the growing tent in his jeans

[loveergirll]

dubcon, objectification, forced (?) threesome, f!reader

they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

ghost finds you ten months after your divorce, nursing a drink in a shithole of a pub. he doesn’t consider himself a good man, licking the tears on your cheeks when he fucks you for the first time, ignoring your whines of how “it’s been a while” and you’re “too tight.” he doesn’t like to keep birds around longer than a night, but something about how you wrap your leg around him in the morning makes him stay a little longer.

he lets you call him simon after you whine that you “can’t fuck him without knowing his name.” it takes a bit, but you get used to sleeping with someone who isn’t your ex-husband. he calls you bird instead of sweetheart, love instead of darling and after a while, the word honey loses its significance. when simon tells you he’s military, you try to leave his bed, only for him to pull you by the thigh, apologizing with his tongue in your cunt. simon doesn’t date and you aren’t ready for it, content to stay in your respective apartments, living for his occasional half-smiles and usual gruff admonishments. its a bit new to simon - he’s used his camera app more in the past weeks than he has in years. always pictures of you: his cum on your tits, the bruises he leaves on your hips, a rare photo of you sleeping. he even lets you corral him into taking a cheesy mirror picture, his arms dwarfing your waist with his face tucked into your neck, your jawline exposed as you turn to kiss his cheek.

it’s two months later when you promise to cook him a meal for the first time, a sunday roast he hasn’t tasted in years. “better not take too long, bird, ‘m starvin’.” simon murmurs in your ear, hands squeezing your stomach and waist as you fumble with your keys. “i’ve had it slow cooking before i left for yours last night. it’ll put us in a food coma.” you finally put the key in the lock, turning it with force before simon decides to fuck you against the door. he dips to bite your neck, sending you into your apartment giggling, swatting him off you. the weight of your divorce is finally off your shoulders, happy butterflies fluttering in your stomach formed by simon’s continuous presence.

the butterflies die when you see a familiar pair of boots at your door.

“stay here.” you order simon, a change from your usual dynamic. you can’t focus on his reaction, set on edge by the sounds of pots clanging in your kitchen. there’s no point in creeping - he knows you’re here. you turn the corner and there he is - your ex husband. “you’re just in time, sweetheart. nice ‘f you to make a roast.”

john’s standing there like he owns the place, like he knows this kitchen he’s never been in. he’s boiling potatoes on the stove, keeping an eye on the slow cooker timer. he’s even poured himself a fucking drink, a scotch he had to have brought since all you have is wine and simon’s whiskey. all smug and entitled in his civvies, commanding the room like he pays your rent. he's still as handsome as ever, darker eye bags the only indication he's been losing sleep.

“what the fuck are you doing here, john?” john doesn’t answer immediately, instead using a fork to test the potatoes. satisfied, he takes them off the burner and turns to the sink, dumping them out in a prepared strainer. “‘s our anniversary, sweetheart. thought that’s why you made the food.” you can sense simon still in the doorway, his presence unknown to your ex. it gives you strength, a guard dog at your back, and comfort that he’s letting you run this on your own. “our anniversary ended when we signed the papers. i don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave.” he frowns at you and it almost tugs at your heart strings. your brain conjures images of his coldness and constant distance, and you shut that down real fast. unfortunately, he doesn’t get the memo. john takes a step closer, hands up like he’s approaching a wild animal. “honey, i-“ and that’s when ghost steps out of the darkness.

there’s a long pause. it boosts your ego a bit, showing john you’ve moved on, until the silence is so long that you start to worry. you chance a look at simon’s face and find it confused, not at all the guard dog you thought he was. a glance at john’s reveals the same. you’re about to ask your question when they answer it for you. “captain.” “lieutenant.” “what?”

the transformation happens in an instant. both men straighten to their full heights, wiping any emotion off their faces. their brows furrow as they flex their hands to control their instincts. how could you not see it before? simon only mentioned he was military, but the stamp of the SAS is clear as day. it was in the harsh lines he carried, a companionship with death, not unlike the one john had.

john started first, of course, always having to take control of the situation. “you fuckin’ my lieutenant, sweetheart? miss me that much?” you rolled your eyes at his cruel words, inching closer to simon. “whatever we do doesn’t concern you.” you emphasized the “you”, spitting it out with venom. john hums low, making you nervous. you turn to simon, but he's quiet and calculating, communicating silently with his captain.

"didn't know you had a wife, sir." you answer before john can. "we divorced a year ago." john chimes in. "to the day, actually. she served me on our anniversary." simon looks down at you, the man you thought you knew now gone. his eyes are black pits, targeting you like you're prey. "that's cruel, bird." you sputter, backing into the kitchen cabinets. you walk until your back hits the sink, each man on either side of you. john has his arms crossed and head cocked to the side, like you're about to get chewed out by the school principal. simon looks...no longer human. unrestrained. whatever spark you two had has gone out, replaced by sheer loyalty to his captain. "show the captain what he's been missin', love. y've been starvin' him." he moves at lightning speed, picking you up and dropping you on the island counter, sunday roast long forgotten.

"simon?" he doesn't answer, scarred hands squeezing up and down your body as john watches from behind him, arms crossed and eyes searching. your mind is telling you one thing but your body wants another. some twisted part of your brain reminds you that john came to visit on your anniversary, even though you threw him out a year ago. simon's no better, coaxing your sweater off your torso, leaving you exposed in a lacy bra. your nipples harden and john sees, making a clicking noise with his tongue. "warm 'er up, lieutenant." simon obeys instantly, pulling down the cup of your bra to suck on your nipple. he's ravenous, no sunday roast in sight, and he's decided you're his meal instead. he sucks hard, a calloused hand reaching up to pull your other tit out so you're fully exposed to your two men. he squeezes it with reverence, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucks hard on the other one, not minding his own teeth.

it's dirty - watching john watch you. you hadn't fucked in the last months before the divorce. he was always too busy, on base or deployed, and you were so angry you couldn't let him near you. now, your ex-husband moves closer, taking in the sight of his lieutenant feasting. "miss me, sweetheart?" you shake your head on instinct. he sighs at your attitude. you're seated on the corner of the island, perfect for john to come up on your side, one large paw making its way towards your jaw, turning you towards him. "say it." you shake your head again. john sticks a thumb into your mouth, pushing against your teeth. you try to force him out, but simon bites your tit, making you gasp and let john in anyways. you suck his thumb defiantly, gazing at him with all the emotions you can't convey.

you look so pretty like this, john decides. laid out for his lieutenant, taking his orders as well as your emotions will allow. he decides to forgive you for your indiscretions with ghost - at least it was with one of his own men. they're practically an extension of himself. john hooks his thumb into the gap between your tongue and teeth and pulls, forcing you right into his space. "i reckon your cunt's nice an' wet, though. should i check? know she's missed me even if you won't admit it." your eyes go wide, giving him an answer he already knew. simon follows orders well, manhandling you into position by yanking off your jeans. there's a wet spot on the light fabric of your underwear. john can practically see your cunt clinging to it, begging for him to say hello.

"want ya to take 'em off y'self, bird." simon's finally speaking, the glaze in his eyes fading. he looks at you, then his captain, and it makes sense. how you're used to being led but refuse it all the same. how you're desperate for affection but won't date him because he's military. you're scarred from the chains of your marriage, so it only makes sense that he's the one you seek out - the opposite of husband material. more dog than human on his worst days. simon stares at you until you follow his command, meekly lifting up your hips as you take off your underwear. your cunt is sopping, in a way it only does when you’re ovulating, practically begging for it. your ex-husband whistles through his teeth like he’s praising a recruit. “knew she’d be happy to see me. hullo, darling.” you can’t find it in you to cringe. john starts running his fingers through your folds, inspecting, and all you can do is stare. stare at the veins in his forearm. stare at simon behind him, eyes trained on his captain’s movements. stare at the counter where your juices start to gather and wonder how the hell you got into this situation.

“pinch ‘er tit an’ watch ‘er flutter.” simon’s callous with his instructions but john follows them anyway, his unoccupied hand reaching up to pinch your nipple. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way your cunt flutters around john’s fingers. he hums thoughtfully. john decides you’ve been good, if not a bit quiet, and presses his thumb against your clit as a reward. he starts rubbing in that pattern that would get you off without fail during your marriage. he fits one finger into you easily as you grip the counter hard, the sudden sensation overwhelming. simon peers over his shoulder like a fucking scientist. “‘f she gets bratty, i pull back the hood til she screams.” like your cunt’s a machine and they have the two pieces of its manual. john’s movements are making you desperate, hips starting to buck against his fingers. he chuckles and adds another, not hiding a smile when you sigh in relief. simon’s hands come to your waist, helping you fuck yourself on price’s fingers. it feels so wrong, having them barely listen to your pleas, and yet being under their watch is the most right you’ve ever felt in your life. that’s what brings your orgasm - not john’s thick fingers on your cunt, his rough thumb in your clit - but two sets of hungry eyes on you, like you’re their last meal. john fucks you through your orgasm, simon not letting you out of his grasp until tears start to form, the embarrassment of your own wetness coming to the front of your mind. john slowly removes his fingers and brings them to simon’s mouth to taste, not satisfied until his lieutenant hums in agreement. the two men turn to you, naked save for your disheveled bra around your waist, somehow making the scene more depraved.

“‘ow ‘bout that roast, love?” simon murmurs gruffly.

good thing john never signed the divorce papers.

[loveergirll]

Oh I just know that Soap knows how to unclasp a bra with one hand in under a second.

At first it was a super hot move he used early on in your relationship during make out seshs, but now he’ll tease you with it whenever he wants just because he knows it annoys you.

You’re doing chores around the house? Perfect. You don’t even hear him over the vacuum when he comes up behind you, snaps it off and walks past you like nothing happened.

You’re baking or making dinner? Amazing. You don’t even notice his presence in the kitchen until you feel the *snap!* of the clasp on your back. You turn around to see him leaning on the counter, chuckling while holding a glass of water to his mouth as he listens to you whine about your dirty hands.

You’re walking around in public? Even better. His arm is around your waist, holding you like any boyfriend would while you talk about your day. While you’re distracted, he snakes his hand up the back of your shirt and *snap!*

You slap him on the chest, whisper-shouting his full name. He chuckles at you as you reach back to clasp it again. Unintentionally gaining the attention of multiple people around you at the farmers market who sheepishly look away.

Though you can’t stay mad long at that cheeky smile.

[loveergirll]

something something

Of a story you heard a thousand times from the elders about a siren who became obsessed with a local.

They said what she did was taboo. She used her blood to make the siren fall for her. But she didn't attract just one siren, there were a lot of them. It was the reason why girls and women went missing at that time. All of them walk through the ocean with open arms. The sirens embraced them as they took them deeper and deeper in the water.

Despite the story being told a long time ago, a tradition to prevent what happened was still being followed faithfully. Women were strictly prohibited in washing their stained garments and going swimming in the ocean when they bleed.

But you have been so lonely. The people on the island isolate you. They claimed you are cursed and should have died after your whore of a mother died from a disease.

Desperate, you washed your period stained garments in the ocean. You even bathed under the moonlight. A time where they said the siren's scent of smell was strong.

You just want to be loved. You just want to be held. You just want some warmth.

The next day, golden trinkets and pearl necklaces replaced your hanged undergarments on your fence. They were so beautiful. You haven't seen them before.

Although you were happy that the legend about the sirens was real, it dawned on you that you had done something you mustn't. Frightened, you hid the siren's gifts and pretended you had done nothing wrong.

Each moons, you tried to ignore the scratches at your door during your cycle. Deep claw marks scarring the woods. Songs of desperation calling out for you to open your door late at night. To let him in.

He has such a beautiful voice. He introduced himself as Johnny. He sounded pleasant, warm, and loving.

But you know what he was doing.

You must not. It will pass. Or so you console yourself. Ignoring your bleeding hands after your nails had dug too deep after you closed your fists too tightly.

Then each morning, you will wake up with another set of jewelry, wondering why they feel sticky to touch. The item smells musky. Like the ocean; salty, and heady. But there is something more that you are not quite sure as to what it was.

It goes on and on and on.

Until, there was a storm. The wind howls and your house groans as it tries to hold itself down. The wood creaks, and your body trembles from the cold. The fire long gone after the rain leaked and wet your furnace. You were so so cold. And you are so scared and alone.

Maybe that was why when you heard a knock, it didn't occur to you how the knock sounded so clear. As if the raging storm outside silenced just so you can hear that someone is outside. Someone who can share their warmth with you.

You didn't hesitate to open the door and was greeted by a towering man. Bulked, scarred, and has a mesmerizing deep set of blue eyes, looking down on you. Lovingly. Longingly.

You don't know what occurred to you but you clung to him. Your arms snaked around his neck and you feel his, wrapping on your waist. Tighter. Pulling you closer.

It feels so right.

[loveergirll]

Ghost: May I borrow one of the shirts that you stole from me? Y/N: Yes you can Y/N: Thank you for asking properly

[loveergirll]

i’m definitely just projecting but ghost and price are definitely the kinds of lovers that reader could just text asking of they’re busy/alone for no other reason than reader wanting to sit in their lap/burrow into their jackets

mhmm 🙂‍↕️

(i mean everyone in tf 141 is that kind of lover tbh. but i guess i see what you mean — the question is weighted when it comes to simon or price, like you’re deliberately asking for permission because while they have never pushed you away or stopped indulging you, there is that tension in which that they could.

because unlike the both of them, kyle is so easy to get along with — a push and pull of banter; he’ll jokingly say that yes he’s too busy actually, and you’ll whine in his inbox, spam messaging an assortment of “whyyy” or “pleaasee !!!! >:(” until he ‘gives in’ (he says this like he has not been waiting, all buzzing energy until you’re finally melting into him, cheek to cheek, his hand on the small of your back, yours fisting at his shirt).

while johnny is direct; there’s no preamble in his replies because he’s just as clingy and just as desperate to be with you — the tease comes in later; “missed me much, didn’t ye, bonnie?” is purred into your ear when you’re finally in his arms and he could ensure that you won’t leave, not with how he’s got his thick arms wrapped around your waist, anyway.

but not price and simon.

you’re genuinely seeking permission when you send them that message. seeking validation. you’re all wired up, tensed and anxious, so much so that you’ve began biting your lip or playing with your hangnails as you wait for a reply, before surging up when the notification finally comes.

john loves it when you burrow in his jacket, cheek smooshed on his chest, eyes close as you match his breaths. while simon loves it when you’re both pressed flushed — pelvis to pelvis, your front to his, and your chin hooked on his shoulder.)

[loveergirll]

Buttermilk | MASTERLIST

PRICE x READER

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job.

Or: the babysitter x single dad au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dubious Consent, AFAB Reader, Possessive Behaviour, Single Dad AU, Babysitter Reader, Age Gap

Part 1

Extras

Series moodboard

[loveergirll]

smut mdni

werewolf! simon who posts videos of him fucking other creatures such as other werewolves, vampires, pixies, really anything he can get his paws on that get really good views that is until he meets you, a little trinket fairy.

he sets up the tripod, and you're standing next to him, only ending at his massive hip. you're waving and smiling so cute and sweet too.

you're plump with extra to grab and simon loves that.

que ten minutes in the video and you're being bounced up and down simon's fat cock, the knot nudging against your gaping entrance.

the camera was high quality, able to get an excellent view of the way your pussylips swallowed his impressive girth.

your slick gushing making simon's glistening dick and fat sack that was swollen and drip with your creamy cum that made a mess between his thick and powerful thighs.

simon had his hands tucked underneath your knees to keep your legs spread open as he used you for his own pleasure like you were a toy.

and in a way you were.

the way his tapered tip kissed your cervix you squealed with pleasure and pain that blended together in an intoxicating haze as you gripped his biceps letting your head bounce around.

he fucked into you so deep that you swore he was in your throat, simon was everywhere and there was no escaping his hold or his dick.

comments and hefty tips flowed in the more your pussy gushed that sweet essence which wafted up to his snout that he pressed into your neck. each thrust jingled your trinkets noisily.

your sweet cries brought in the most viewers simon has ever had, sure everyone else he fucked was good but you? you're better.

the way you cling to him trying to tap out after your third orgasm but simon wasn't done. "you promised me love to finish this video, now be good and let me cum in your wet hot cunt "

his knot swelled before he pushed you all the way down making your pussy swallow him whole. "simon! fuck!" you wailed loudly.

a thick load of cum filled your quivering cunt which only added to the wet sticky mess between your legs as simon read the comments petting your hair and kissing your cheek.

"i think you'll just be a regular from now on."

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[loveergirll]

Brainrot. Pure brainrot.

[loveergirll]

first, im a bit new to cod but idk…

thinking about ghost’s spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch 🫶

note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!

Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You don’t come up at work, and work doesn’t come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And he’s not exactly a watershed of information when he’s with his mates. And it’s not like anyone is asking “When was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?” and seriously expecting a response.

He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, torture– that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.

Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why he’s so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you won’t look at anything you don’t have to.

You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.

“Who’s that bloody bombshell, then?”

You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. He’s the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.

“LT, you absolute dog.”

Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagement– you really did only have time to stop by.

Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.

Everyone is wondering how this could’ve happened. For the record– I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.

“How’d you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? C’mon, spill it–”

Simon doesn’t mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesn’t find it that difficult to get women. And also, you’re his true love, so you’re perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesn’t say that.

“S’not that hard. Remember the stuff she says, don’t keep no secrets… dick ‘er down the way she likes.” He doesn’t mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.

He’s telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend you’ve ever told him about, every movie you’ve ever mentioned, every meal he’s cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.

And he’s never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck he’s feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isn’t pleasant. The only thing he doesn’t mention to you are the gorey details of his work.

And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didn’t know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet again– every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink you’ve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. He’s got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.

What I’m trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.

[loveergirll]

This awakened something in me…

nsfw. price who takes pride in how well he takes care of his missus. it’s your world and he’s just living in it baby!

there’s not a day that goes by where you aren’t fucked and fed properly. will go to great lengths to make your life as easy as possible, which includes being selfless. which is why when he goes on long work trips he’ll ask one of the boys to take good care of you until he gets back. preferably simon; johnny is much too eager, and gaz is too much of a sweetheart to rough you up just how you like. he can’t bare the thought of having his girl waking up to an empty bed. which why he’ll leave simon with the keys to your home and a heavy pat on the back.

“I’ll be back in a few days. keep her entertained for me, will ya? if she starts getting fussy just means she’s due for a proper fucking. she’s a restless little thing. take good care of her now, yeah? I’ll be expecting updates.”

[loveergirll]

Y/N: I miss you

Jonny: I’ve moved on, Y/N

Y/N: I hope she treats you good

Jonny: Actually… it’s a he

Y/N: What

Jonny: I like it from the back now

* cue Simon who walks into the room and Y/N stares at him, horrified *

Simon: What? I swear if you guys are practising your hypothetical breakup again. I won’t be your hypothetical lawyer, end of story

Y/N: Lemme just get my hypothetical gun