#and soap likes that in a man

[ghcstao3]

despite what simon might claim, he is completely oblivious to flirting.

the signals often just fly over his head. he’ll nod and hum along to some story being recited to him in low voices and purring tones like it’s nothing more than friendly conversation. he’ll casually and unthinkingly shrug off any flirty touches, say thank you to compliments and move on. everyone thinks he’s just letting them down gently, or playing hard to get, but the reality is just that simon never registers anything subtle and implied as flirting.

it’s the same when an attractive bartender shoots him a wink and a charming smile, sliding him his bourbon and saying it’s on the house. confused, simon merely returns a polite smile and offers his debit card, thinking the scotsman behind the counter is only making a joke.

but then the bartender is pausing, staring at simon with his head cocked not unlike a puppy, bemused. he doesn’t take the card, and that frustrates simon, just a little.

“it’s on the house,” the bartender repeats, less flirtatious though no less interested.

simon frowns. “why?”

the bartender laughs. “because it is. i’m trying to flirt with you.”

simon’s eyes widen at that. he feels his face grow warmer the longer he processes the words, unable to respond with anything more than a short, pathetic, “oh.”

“aye, oh,” the bartender teases. then his smile falters. “unless that’s your way of turning me down.”

distractedly, simon shakes his head, heart pounding loud in his ears, louder than the music. puzzlement has shifted to disbelief, simon unable to comprehend how this handsome scotsman could ever be interested in him. and yet.

“then it’s still on the house,” says the bartender, nodding to the drink. “my name’s john, by the way. and my shift ends in twenty.”

then, quickly, watching the slight pinch of simon’s brows, john adds, “i’m letting you know so you can meet me outside, if you’d be interested.”

simon nods, slowly, because upon reflection—yeah, he would be interested.

simon just about melts on the spot when john grins at him again and says can’t wait.

[luminni]

Simon has a favorite jumper. It's simple, black wool, fits him well, and he wears it all the time. Only problem is, he wears the thing all the time. He's had the thing for years and it's practically all he wears when he's on leave. By this point, the poor thing is threadbare, little holes around the armpits, the neckline, and the cuffs. It's pilling everywhere and it's covered with dog hair (from where, he has no clue).

You loved the jumper on him, he looked fantastic in it, but even you could see the thing was in a dire situation.

"Simon?" You questioned, holding up the jumper in your arms, folding it after its last round in the wash (which it mercifully survived).

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever...thought about getting this thing dry cleaners?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Don't trust 'em, they'll ruin it."

It was a simple answer, one that told you the subject wasn't up for debate. But just because he didn't trust the dry cleaners with his jumper didn't mean he wouldn't trust anyone with it. And there was no one he trusted more than you.

...

Simon came home from his last deployment late into the night, trudging through the front door and setting his bag down as gently as possible as to not wake you. Toeing his shoes off and finally being able to tug off his mask, he couldn't wait to get out of the rest of his gear.

Stepping lightly through the house, dodging the floor boards he knew were going to be squeaky on his journey to the bedroom. Ready to join you in bed the moment he got into a pair of sweat pants.

When he opened the bedroom door however, he did not find you tucked away in the covers. You were crouched on the floor, humming along to quiet music playing on a small speaker. And you were bowed over that black jumper of his.

"Love?"

"Oh! Simon you're home!" You squealed, jumping up and throwing yourself into his arms, snuggling your face into his chest and drinking in the scent you had been without for so long like you could get drunk off it, and in many ways you could.

"Hey there sweet'art" he cooed, practically purring it into your ear and enclosing you in a big bear hug. "What'er ya' up to?"

"Oh just..." you turned back around, anxiety lacing your voice, "doing a little repair work." You handed him his black jumper, folding it into his hands.

He could believe his eyes, it was smooth like it was new, no pills of fabric clinging to it. The tiny, threadbare areas and holes were patched up. Now, perfectly matched black wool was weaved in to fix it. He stared at you, wide eyed, in disbelief while you just grinned nervously. He brought it up to his face, no dog hair to be seen and it smelt like you had just picked it up off the shelves.

He kept on staring at you "how..?"

"I just," you turned back around, grabbing the sweater trimmer, the replacement wool, the sweater scent spray, and the lint roller, all in your hands. "Used a couple things" You grinned

Simon could have sworn he never felt this way before. There was this weird tightness in his chest, it felt like it was going to explode. He had owned that sweater when he Tommy was still alive, that sweater had seen the first pub crawl with the 141 boys, he wore it on your first date. The sweater was more than just something he wore often, it was his good memories wrapped up into one piece of soft and comfortable wool. His arms moved before he could stop them and he buried you in another hug, squeezing you (and his jumper) into him.

"Oh- Simon!" You giggled, dropping your supplies.

He buried his nose into you shoulder, lifting you up into him, off your feet.

"Thank you," he murmured, voice cracking a bit, "thank you."

[shotmrmiller]

soap and ghost have to flip a coin (or rock paper scissors) when it comes to who gets to fuck you first and whoever wins actually mourns the win because soap loves the feel of you wet and sticky when full of simon's spend and simon prefers going after johnny because that way you're usually three orgasms in and pliant (he doesn't have to be so careful when first sinking in) and can go as fast as he wants and as hard as he likes without the risk of hurting you.

[wombywoo]

bad dreams 🌙

[bluegiragi]

don't keep him waiting!!! (full vers on patreon)

[chloesimaginationthings]

This is basically Michael in FNAF Sister location,,

[gothghostiie]

something babysitter!reader waiting for price to drive them home while he's on video call with one of his friends, the little one in his lap, tapping around on the screen; until it somehow does something to make the screen go weird. he chuckles and shows you, inevitably holding the camera right onto you for a moment and showing you before turning it back on him. all you hear from the phone now is a curious hum. "who's the lil' tulip on the couch?"

[rosegolden13]

You had long since lost track of what Captain John Price was yelling in your face. Yes, you had almost gotten yourself killed on the latest mission. Did you regret it when you realized you’d have a limp for a bit? Yes. Did you regret it now, hearing that gruff accented voice directed at you? Hell no.

Even during debriefs, you could get lost in the gentle rumble of his voice. But this right now was something different. His words were biting, filled with an intensity that you normally only saw in the midst of missions- not on base and not directed at you.

You bit down on the soft plush of your bottom lip and a moment of silence settles over you. His icy blue eyes bore into yours. It’s like staring down a dog that’s about to snap its teeth at you again. Needing to fill the silence, you gave a quick response, “What was that last part, sir?” This’ll piss him off more but that’s what you want.

He stares at you a moment, processing your audacity before exploding once again. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, Sergeant! You don’t listen to me here, you don’t listen to me on the field. It’s a fuckin’ miracle you’ve survived this long. Pull that shit again, I dare ya, girl. What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is a low growl as he steps closer, like he’s about to reach for the back of your neck and jostle some sense into you.

Your cheeks are flushed at this point. There’s no denying that or the subtle ache between your legs. You let out a slow breath, spotting movement in your peripheral and meeting Soap’s gaze. He seems to see right through you, a cocky smirk on his face. “She’s got the hots for ya, Cap’n. Tha’s wha’s wrong with her.”

Price stares at you a moment more, completely taken aback as he reassesses you. And then he turns around, muttering something about not getting paid enough. You stand there mortified before chasing off after Soap to berate him for outing you like that.

[ceilidho]

hmmmmm im usually not into vampires, but thinking about a vampire biting a human mid hookup because there’s no way he’s giving up pussy this good. look forward to the next thousand years with the Worst Guy Ever

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[sky-is-the-limit]

"𝑰𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔, 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏."

[srfiv]

and whenever they couldn't speak they looked at eachother

[rowarn]

there is not a single man in 141 who doesn't make out with your pussy btw. not anonymous i die like caesar

SO TRUE !!!

and they've all got different styles !!!!!

simon is meticulous and controlling. he pins you down, spreads your legs open and EATS. he knows exactly what he's doing and how to use his tongue. he uses his fingers in combination, sometimes he ducks you with his fingers while he sucks your clit sometimes he pinches and rolls your clit under his fingers while he fucks you with his tongue. but make no mistake you will only take what he is WILLING to give you, you won't be greedy and take from him. he's only willing to give if you're good for him!! he's also not afraid to punish you by depriving you of his tongue because he's so good with it that you crave it. so it's best to just behave and let him do as he pleases <3

soap is sloppy and intense. he wants you to sit on his face so he can drown in your cum. uses his whole mouth and face when he eats pussy. engulfs your pussy whole with his mouth, slobbers all over your clit and licks his tongue into your hole to taste everything you've got. you don't even need to be greedy with him because he's already giving you whatever you could possibly want. all you can do it lay there and take it, moaning and twitching as he rips orgasm after orgasm right from your little cunt. doesn't really use his fingers but he doesn't need to because that devious mouth does ALL the work either of you need !!!

kyle is generous and sweet. eating you out is a whole event for this man. it's sometimes just the main event. he's not selfish, he doesn't even need to fuck you to feel good. your pleasure is always at the forefront of his mind. his top priority. hell, he'll light some candles, sit with you in the bath, caressing you and kissing you, working you up and teasing you. all so when he's finally got you spread on the bed, you're needy and pliant for him. he focuses on your clit, loves to worship that little bud because he knows that's where it feels best for you. but he'll follow any of your cues; if you need more deeper pleasure, he'll give you his fingers. if you want it sloppy he'll fuck you with his tongue. you can ride his face if you ask nicely but he prefers to have you laid back, spread open and relaxed so he can just worship you. will eat you until you're cumming as many times as you need. he doesn't care if he's there for 2 hours, jaw aching - if you want him there, he's staying. he is born to please and worship. he's sweet with his words too, telling you how pretty and soft you are, how good you taste, how gorgeous you look cumming for him. when he starts to get real fucked out he started begging into your pussy, begging for you to cum while his voice breaks and he humps the bed, boxers messy with cum he'd already spilled all over himself.

[unspecifiedfigure]

watching the sunset together alive and well after early retirement <3

[wombywoo]

winter ❄️⛄

[d-emeter]

Simon Riley who loves to watch you shower (though not in the way you think). — plus-size!fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

CW: plus-sized reader but can be read as body neutral, non-sexual nudity, simon being smitten

You're not sure when it became a habit, but you remember the first time it happened. You had announced you were going to take a shower, and Simon had sprung up, asking if he could quickly brush his teeth before you went in there. You snorted a little at that, telling him he could do it while you were showering — he'd seen you naked plenty of times before, you didn't even think twice about it. And always one to follow an order, he did as he was told.

It took you a second to notice how he had stilled his movements, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth and his eyes focused on you through the mirror as it slowly fogged up.

"Something wrong, Si?"

"N'thin, baby, jus' do y'r thing."

It became almost ritual not long after that. If Simon spotted you with a fresh set of clothes in your arms, he padded over to the bathroom behind you, not a word exchanged. He'd sit on the closed toilet seat, insisting you left the shower door open.

"Si, the whole bathroom's gonna get wet..."

"Don't matter. I'll dry it after."

And then he just... watches. In complete silence, he just gazes at you. Watching how you wash your hair (doing it twice, because someone on social media told you it was better for your hair), inhaling deeply as the scent of your shampoo fills the air. He watches how you work the conditioner in, letting it sit while you continue with the next step of your routine. He watches you scrub away with a washcloth, suds covering your skin before rinsing it all off under the hot water. He particularly enjoys what you call your 'everything showers'. If you're in the mood to shave, he wants you to put your foot up on the toilet seat, right between his thighs — he'll handle the hard to see parts, lovie, don't worry about it. He's a little confused about the concept of scrub, but you have no problem babbling an explanation as you rub it all over your body (you find a whole array of newly acquired shower products the day after — scrubs included). He's still watching when you get out, how you dab yourself dry instead of rubbing, almost hypnotized as you smear serum after serum and layer cream after cream on your face and body.

"No fuckin' wonder your skin is so soft- Y'got a whole apothecary in here."

"What, you think this happens naturally?"

—

The first time he actually joins you, he doesn't really know how to get the question out. It's a day and a half after he came back from deployment, and as much as you would have loved to smother him in affection, you knew he needed time. Time to ground himself, to stop seeing the blood on his hands even after scrubbing them raw, to go from being Ghost to being Simon. He's been holed up in the bedroom since he came home, and only moves to leave once he hears the bathroom door open. You only smile at him when he appears in the doorway, assuming he'd take his usual seat. He doesn't. Instead, he's gesturing awkwardly to the shower. You know what he means.

"Can I- D'you mind if-"

"Of course you can, Si."

You're gentle with him; coaxing him out of his clothes and mask, turning the shower on and letting it get to temperature before guiding him in with you. He's stiff as a board still, but you see the small exhale at the hot water hitting his skin. You reach for his shampoo (the one you picked out for him — you nearly broke up with him when you first saw the single 5-in-1 bottle he had in his bathroom), but he's faster, grabbing your own and handing it to you, and you know what he wants. You don't say a word as you squeeze some onto your palm, and go to reach up when you realize-

"Simon, baby, could you bend down a little? I can't reach..."

He's on his knees before you know it. His eyes close when your hands start working through his hair — it's longer than when he left. His hands find their way to your thighs. You know he doesn't need it for balance. His forehead rests against the pudge of your stomach as you rinse him out. You can still see the remnants of his eyeblack when you tilt his head up.

You take him through your whole routine. He lets you wash him before you take care of yourself — he just watches, like second nature.

You know you have your Simon back once you turn the water off.