#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.

[bluegiragi]

some studies with soap and a few screenshots from portrait of a lady on fire. I've been really trying to put some concerted effort into working on my rendering recently...

[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.

[thebookbutterfly]

One of Simon Riley’s love languages is just The Stare TM.

Multiple times a day you will turn around and be faced with this giant man, just staring you down. Entirely locked in. Pupils the size of dinner plates.

Sometimes he’s in the corner of the room, other times he’s just looming over you. He’s so quiet it’s like he just appears out of thin air.

The poor man is like a moth drawn to a lamp. He can’t help it, he likes looking at you. :( Doing anything really. It’s an addiction more than a habit.

You don’t mind it. It’s kind of endearing seeing how wide his pupils dilate every time he catches a glimpse of you. ❤️

[vozart]

sleepy clingy giant

[spurbleu]

it’s over the minute you start playing hide and seek.

johnny has a big family. his siblings have kids, his parents siblings have kids who also have kids, which means a holiday leave offers limited privacy and abundant chaos.

he’s learned to embrace it. adores it, even. kids stroke his ego like no other, and the more he can see his parents the less he pays attention to the new wrinkles and the reality he only has so much time to hold their hand. to be someone’s son.

but you? the sweet, unassuming bird who he met by happenstance, who’s the first person he’s brought home for an approaching decade? he winces as he grabs your bags from the trunk- already expecting the fawning- the embarrassing prattles they’ll throw your way.

he was not expecting you to navigate it though.

the adults love you. turns out all the same charms that had him whipped works fairly well with his relatives. three glasses of wine in and he can still hear his aunt laughing. genuinely. that’s a miracle.

and don’t even get him started with the nieces and nephews.

stole all his thunder and he isn’t even mad about it. watches as they chase you in the backyard, cartwheeling around while you catch your breath.

his sister nudges him in the side and he starts.

“how’d ye catch a bonnie like tat?”

you send him a lopesided smile from across bronzing grass. you’re glowing.

yeah, he’s a goner. “couldnae tell ye.”

[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 🌙

[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?"

[chloesimaginationthings]

This is basically Michael in FNAF Sister location,,

[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

[bluegiragi]

a bit judge-y there simon.

early access + nsfw on patreon prints

[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."

[vozart]

141 night out let’s go

[srfiv]

and whenever they couldn't speak they looked at eachother