#gets obsessed. thanks simon

[birdkittenn]

i think its funny how until pretty recently, i didnt care for robots, or i even disliked them. i liked animals and creatures hell of a lot more than artificial constructs

now? oh my god

[rosegolden13]

Some thoughts about John Price who owns a hardware store in a small town post-retirement for a bum leg… That man could never be forced to not work. He’s not one to sit still for long, even with a small limp. 

Maintaining the place is simple work, easy on his heart and mind after all the stress of his previous job. Does he miss the adrenaline? The feeling of importance? Of course. So, he runs that hardware store like he’s still a captain. You bet those aisles are fully stocked and organized by product and alphabetized by brand. His book is always neatly filled out at the end of each day, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he records the daily finances and stock in a neat print. 

He wears kakis that fit just a bit too tight around the crotch, a red collared shirt that all the employees wear with a little logo that Soap designed over the chest pocket where John always has a pen tucked away. 

The biggest perk? The cute little clueless bird that comes in irregularly, needing help. Finally, he gets to feel competent again, needed by someone for his skill and expertise. 

The men almost never ask for help, too obsessed with their own masculinity to do that. Most of the women don’t need it, experts at the gardening or DIY projects they’re doing. 

But you? There’s some sort of home maintenance crisis you need help with nearly every month. John’s beyond grateful that you don’t just go on YouTube for tutorials or call a repairman like everyone else seems to be doing these days. He needs those doe eyes of yours trained on him as he explains the different types of hammers they have in stock and which one would be best for that loose floorboard of yours. He needs your sweet, grateful smile as you thank him for all his help.

He’ll get you the right wrench, doll, don’t worry your pretty little head. In fact, here’s his number in case you need help fixing your leaking sink. 

You need fertilizer for your garden? He’ll carry out the premium brand to your car for you and brush off your thanks with a simple “anytime, sweet'eart”.

The rest of the boys come in on their leaves to help out around the shop with stocking shelves and whatnot. Gaz and Soap cackle like hyenas the first time they see Price rush to your side when you tilt your head in confusion at all the different types of super glue. Even Simon is smirking a bit under his mask. The man is whipped.

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[444venicebitch444]

Something something TF 141 gets a new secretary because their old one decided to finally retire, and you show up.

A sweet little thing, no military experience, all shy smiles and nervous chuckles, punctual and neat.

You take care of their paperwork, their mail, schedule their meeting, bring them coffee, and most importantly it’s not half bad to have a good set of legs and a pretty face to look at.

Price was a right gentleman, a nicer boss than you could’ve ever expected from a military man, and Soap and Gaz really had your confidence going whenever they made their flirtatious quips (which was everyday, really).

Ghost, though? Ghost was exactly what you’d expected after hearing the stories: a stoic, intimidating man who spoke in grunts and monosyllables, and who was, in your opinion, quite rude.

Did the man have no manners? Had his mother not taught him to say ‘thank you’?

You tried making an extra effort with him, your need to be liked overpowering your annoyance towards the lieutenant, because you intended to keep this job; the pay was great, it was a short drive from your apartment and you weren’t going to let a guy who wore a bloody skull balaclava everyday ruin this for you.

So you smiled more, made your good mornings and good afternoons sweeter, same as the tea you’d leave on his desk everyday at 4 pm sharp, and the little squiggly hearts you’d draw on the post it notes on top of his files. 

And when Simon’s grunts started mutating into full fledged sentences, and he actually told you a joke, you found yourself grinning, more out of self satisfaction than because of whatever ridiculous pun he’d said in that deep, rumbling voice of his.

For you, it was over, your plan had worked, and now all your bosses liked you, getting rid of that lingering uneasiness in the back of your head. 

For Simon, on the other hand? You’d unlocked Pandora's box, if said box contained the lieutenant’s affection (obsession) for you.

It was true, he hadn’t liked you at first: you disrupted the routine, the practised flow of the office, and gave Johnny and Kyle an excuse to be fucking insufferable in their working space instead of only in the shitty pubs where they’d drag him after shifts. He was going to lose his fucking mind if he had to hear another “can’t walk into the office looking that good, darlin’. won’t let me get anything done”.

The worst part was that they weren’t wrong; you were pretty and Simon couldn’t deny that. I mean, what did anyone expect, for him to not shoot a look at your arse in those tight trousers? He was but a man.

But when you started your little routine, it sent him down a spiral. What the fuck was your problem? Why would you draw a bloody heart next to the note that reminded him about his debrief? 

What you hadn’t understood, though, was that with a man like Simon Riley, that wasn’t just being nice, it wasn’t getting him to like you. it was an enablement of his ugly heart, something that fed the flames of his desires, because why else would be making him tea? that was practically a wedding vow, love. 

So he decided that you were his, that he didn’t need to discuss it with you because you already worried your pretty, little head too much with work and what future husband would he be if he didn’t try to make your life easier?

That included tellin Kyle to fuck off when he flirted with you, giving you a lift when your car broke down (which had absolutely nothing to do with simon messing with its battery), and helping you find your cat when it ran away (the fucking thing had scratched the hell out him when he’d taken it to that alleyway). 

The most important part of his duties, however, was watching you, making sure you were safe. Because who was gonna do it if not him? certainly not your, in his assessment, untrustworthy friends.

And your locks were so easy to pick, it had only taken him one try.

So Simon watched as you read a book and bought the same the very next day, he watched you prepare meal after meal with the nutritional value of a brick and made a mental note to make you something healthy when he’d finally cook for you, and he watched as you came out of the shower, completely enthralled.

Unfortunately, he had no way of looking into your bathroom but you’d walk into your room wrapped only in a towel so he wasn’t going to be too picky. Especially not when he got to see you rub that vanilla scented lotion that drove him insane into your soft skin, or drop the fluffy towel to the ground only to cover the delicate swell of your breasts with your pyjama top.

His favourite part, however, was without doubt when you’d lie against your pillows, your fingers dipping below your waistband. His sweet bird, not so innocent after all. 

His body would burn as he watched, his hands aching to replace your fingers, his tongue wetting his lips because it couldn’t touch yours.

He held onto every tiny gasp, every quiet whine, knowing that he’d make you sound so much better.

But he was patient and he was going to do things properly, take his time: take you to dinner, buy you gifts, eventually give you the ring he’d already bought. He wasn’t a total wanker, lovie.

So for now he was going to be satisfied with watching you and stealing your panties, offering a gruff “morning, sweetheart” the next day.

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

cod masterlist

[jathun]

ugh my winter/christmas depression has hit so hard i like call of duty now wtf

[gloomwitchwrites]

okay okay okay here we go,

The reader who has a very sensitive neck. even a breath hitting her neck affects her. (They can be in a relationship or not, however you like)

Thank you🩵

I won't lie to you...I made this one a little spicy. Not full on mind you, but there's some heat below the break. I couldn't help myself. I really couldn't. You said "sensitive neck" and my brain said "write something thirsty because you deserve it." And here we are!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, kissing, possessive behavior, mild sexual content, mention of alcohol

Word Count: 1,200

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Excuse me?”

The pint pauses just shy of John’s lips. He turns toward the unfamiliar voice, finding a stranger standing next to him. Your voice is laced with desperation, and you keep turning your head with a nervousness that instantly puts John on alert.

Someone is harassing you—bothering you. Making you feel uncomfortable. Doesn’t matter that you’re a stranger, no woman should feel backed into a corner.

You lean into him a bit, lowering your voice. “Can you pretend like we’re together?”

John won’t make you ask twice.

Sliding his arm around your waist in an intimate embrace, John tucks you into his side, using his body to create a shield from the rest of the bar. With your back to the room, your gaze is on him, and anyone looking would only find a couple in a relaxed hug.

John dips his head forward, closing the space until it appears as if the two of you are heading for a kiss. You fluster slightly, smile softly, turn away as if embarrassed. Inwardly, John is grinning. You’ve been in his arms for all of five seconds but you fit so perfectly.

“Who is it, love?” he asks, breath ghosting across your skin at your exposed throat.

You shiver—whimper. Not in distress, but with pleasure. It’s probably the alcohol in his blood that makes him bold—that makes him push a boundary.

“Who?” he asks again, this time tracing down your neck to the hollow of your throat.

It happens again, but instead of pulling away, you snuggle closer to him. John suddenly doesn’t care who it is that’s been bothering you unless they show their face. You’re an interesting creature. Sweet. He can see you fitting into his life.

What does he need to do to possess you?

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’ve been a bloody tease.”

A rising wave of possession wells within Simon, threatening to drown him. When he wants something, he puts every effort into obtaining it. Right now, that something is a someone. And that someone is you.

You glance over your shoulder and scowl. That pouty lip sends blood straight to Simon’s dick. That mouth would look so perfect suctioned around his cock, licking over his skin, opening wide to show him how good you are before you swallow. Simon fucking dreams about it. It’s an obsession.

“Hardly,” you scoff. “Think you can’t take a hint.”

“Funny,” mutters Simon, leaning in until the two of you are close enough to tease a kiss. “You were the one in my bunk, playing with yourself when I walked in.”

“I told you,” you growl. “I thought I was in mine.” You glance away, clearly too flustered to look him in the eye. “Thought I was alone.”

“Sure, love.”

“I got confused in the dark!” you protest, attempting to move away from Simon.

Simon steps in front of you, forcing you to stay pinned against the wall. There was no mistake. The hallway is lit up enough that any numpty could navigate.

“You meant to be there,” he croons.

You fluster further, and Simon grasps the side of your face, tilting your head back. His thumb brushes against your neck, and you shiver. It’s not a slight thing, but a tremble. You’re sensitive here. Simon notes this. Saves it for later for when he gets you under him.

You lick your lips, pausing a moment before answering. “Maybe.”

Simon smiles, knowing he’s victorious. He gives that gorgeous throat of yours another light brush of his finger. This shiver is stronger. Simon nearly groans.

Blood rushes downward, and a plan forms.

John "Soap" MacTavish

It’s a quick tug. A dark corner.

Johnny pushes you against the brick wall at the mouth of the alley, caging you in from the eyes of the nearby street. There’s a buzz beneath your skin from the alcohol you consumed at the pub, and Johnny’s nearness only quickens the sensation. Just as his hands are on your hips, your hands are on his shoulders, pulling him in as close as physically possible. The smile on Johnny’s face is electric and it only fuels your own joy. This date is amazing. A firecracker of an evening.

Lips brush over yours, featherlight. You arch into him, wanting more—needing more. It’s an inherent reaction. Primal. Dirty. There is nothing you want more than for Johnny to push up your skirt and have his way with you in the dark alley.

With a squeeze of his hand, Johnny closes the distance, sealing your mouths together in a passionate desperation. The two of you have kissed before, but it’s always been at the end of your dates. Chaste and cute and nothing this wanton.

Another kiss. Another. A nip at your bottom lip. A suckle.

You whimper, and Johnny groans, nuzzling the side of your neck. His warm breath dances over your exposed throat, and you moan, body shaking with pleasure.

“You sensitive here?” chuckles Johnny. He runs his tongue along your neck. You let out another little gasp. “You are,” he breathes, like the idea excites him.

Johnny teases your throat, bites lightly, pulling forth a mewl. You’re incredibly wet between your legs, aching with a dreadful need.

“I need,” you gasp. “I need—”

“Me?” he croons, and you nod eagerly, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Johnny’s Scottish lilt becomes gravely. “Then turn around,” he growls. “And lift that fucking skirt.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Shit,” you mutter, tugging on the harness buckle.

The thing is stuck, and if you don’t have yourself strapped in before the helicopter takes off, you’re prone to flying headfirst into the floor. These things are fickle. At least they are when you’re attempting to strap yourself in.

You tug on it again, but it hardly budges.

“Why does this always happen to me?”

“Struggling again?” comes a familiar voice.

Kyle steps up into the helicopter, grinning as you continue to tug on the buckle like that will magically fix everything.

“Well this is embarrassing,” you groan, dropping the damn thing.

Kyle laughs, bending forward to keep his head from smashing into the ceiling. He shifts over a step so that he’s in front of you. Even though he’s wearing sunglasses, you feel his gaze roaming over you and then the harness setup.

“Sit back for me,” he says, kneeling in front of you like a man proposing.

You obediently do, allowing Kyle to fuss about, tugging on the straps. His lips purse slightly as he snags the one giving you trouble. He pushes up. Leans forward. You’re momentarily startled as Kyle cages you against the seat, his arms behind you.

“Lean forward a bit,” he says.

It means your forehead rests against his shoulder, but you do as he instructs. With head still bent, Kyle messes with something just out of sight. You lean to the right to allow him a bit more clearance, and that’s when his breath ghosts over your exposed throat.

It’s a tender caress, making you visibly shiver.

“You good, love?” asks Kyle, and again, his breath brushes against your skin.

You have to force down a moan.

I’m trying hard to ignore how horny I am, sergeant. Thanks for asking.

“I’m fine,” you reply.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

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@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @all-by-myself98 @hisuccubus

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving @carbonnite-copy @sobbangchan @codeseven

@youre-a-wallflower-charlie @tiredmetalenthusiast @sporadicpizzainternet @tessakate @mistresssolana

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Pt. 1

Your obsession with the four men kept growing inside you and two days later, you found yourself once again close to the surface. It was easy to spot them, the water around you and them was deserted otherwise. Well, at least if you didn’t count the fish and other sea creatures.

Always keeping out of sight, you watched as they enjoyed their time in the water. Whether they were swimming, diving, snorkeling or just playing around, you stayed nearby. One on hand, you wanted to keep them safe. The sea was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, having to fight against bigger predators daily. But…there was something pulling you to them as well. When you first saw them, you were scared. After all, every time you met humans before, they tried to take you. Wrapped their hands around you, sometimes even used nets. But you always got away somehow.

“Oi! Johnny! Come back here!” You peeked out from behind the rock you were using to hide and saw one of the men on a floating thingy, slowly drifting out to sea. He was fast asleep, not realizing how far off he had gotten. Suddenly, your heart started to beat faster as you realized that he began to drift out to an area that was known for its strong currents.

Not thinking, you dove under the water and swam to him as quickly as you could. By the time you reached him, he seemed to have woken up, but he had also been caught by a current. Although he wasn’t threshing around, you could sense the panic boiling inside him.

You breached the surface right next to him and could immediately hear the others yelling at him to stay calm. But when the man caught the movement next to him and saw you, he shrieked and tumbled off the weird thing. The moment, he hit the water, he was pulled away by the current. You quickly grabbed him under his arms and pulled him back up, using your fin to keep you both afloat. “Wha-” He sputtered, looking at you with wide eyes.

You looked right back, still holding him, before motioning for him to hold his breath. The moment he did, you dove back under and pulled him along, using the strength of your fin to navigate the both of you out of the current and back towards the beach, where the others were still waiting.

As soon as it was shallow enough, you let go of the man and turned around, about to swim away, when someone else called out. “Wait!” You hesitated, glancing back to see an older man with a beard, slowly walking toward you. His hands were raised and you quickly realized that he was the man that freed you. When he noticed that you weren’t about to bolt away, he lowered his hands again and smiled at you so sweetly. “Thank you. For saving that idiot.” He pointed to the still gasping individual, who, even though he looked as if he had just swam an atlantisthon, still managed to grin at you and send you a wink. “Aye, thank you bonnie.”

You were quickly joined by the other two, but the one that spoke first, made sure they didn’t get too close, so they wouldn’t spook you. “Do you…Can you understand us?” You slowly nodded, and the man chuckled, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “That’s good. My name’s John. These are Johnny, Simon, and Kyle.” You took all of them in. They looked like warriors, well built and covered in scars - some more than others - but they also looked so…nice. Not something you ever thought of the mer-warriors. Quietly, almost too quiet, you whispered your own name back, your voice breaking, not used to you speaking. The man repeated it just as quietly, almost as if trying how it sounded from his lips and you couldn’t help but smile at all of them.

And so, an unlikely friendship began. Every day, you would join them on the beach, show them tricks, win breath-holding contests and play with them. At some point, late at night, you found yourself sitting in the shallow water with the silent one of the group. Both of you so still, that fish had started to swim around you. With a smile, you started to play with it, not noticing Simon staring at you. “You’re beautiful.” Wide-eyed, you turned to look at him, surprised to see him smiling softly at you. Your mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say, but he just leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, before getting to his feet and trudging back to the building on the beach. “See you tomorrow.”

The next day, you noticed them growing more affectionate. Their touches more intent and lingering for longer. Their bodies were suddenly much closer to yours and their eyes were constantly on you. But when John gently cupped your face while the others were getting food from inside, you pulled back, fear in your eyes. He looked surprised, stunned, and confused. “I-I’m sorry if that was too much. I promise I would never do anything without your permission.” Your chest heaved as you breathed quickly, fear clawing at your heart. “W-When humans kiss us…we…we become human too.” John’s eyes widened and he stumbled back, stuttering further apologies, but you just turned around and swam away, still scared. But at the same time, there was a small voice in the back of your head, asking if it truly would be so bad to be a human. To be with them.

Pt. 3

A/N: Still inspired by @beloveds-embrace. I love you!!

@totalapathy @soniiyi @littleindulgences @terrifiedanimegirl @harmonysonata @dotmistbird @z-wantstowrite @small-mean-dwarf @kthehoeforfictionalmen @limeleag

[majinbangus]

I’m now obsessed with dog!Simon, thank you for the nourishment for my enclosure. I shall now go feral /pos

i'm so glad you like the concept <3 》 18+

"I'm sorry... what?"

You stare blankly at Soap. He stares back, a tad reprimanding. Ghost hovers behind him, naked and expectant, raptorial smirk on his face. They've both blocked you in the bathroom.

Soap crosses his arms, looking a little disappointed in you. "When I got you your dog, I thought it was implied that you take care of him. That includes bathing him."

"But he's not really—"

"He can take care of himself most days, but he's still yours to take care of, sweetheart. He'll need at least one bath once a week. If you can't do that, we can't keep him."

There's a part of you that thinks that may be for the best—if that happens, maybe you can talk Soap into getting you an actual dog—but when you look over Soap's shoulder to eyeball Ghost, you can't help but feel a slight pang at the thought of losing him. Or perhaps that's just the thought of disappointing Soap and Ghost, and going back on the compromise. Whatever the reason, you can't bring yourself to get rid of him. He's here now, might as well keep him, right?

"I'll... take care of him." You finally say after a minute of contemplating, and Soap's face breaks out with a proud grin.

"I'll leave you to it then."

Without much else to say, Soap walks out of the bathroom, leaving you alone with Ghost. You shuffle nervously between your feet. "Uh, you can stay there. I'm gonna warm up the water for you."

He doesn't say anything as he watches you. Doesn't say anything at all, even when the water is ready and the tub is full, or when you stiffly guide him into the bath, stripping down to your underthings so you don't get your clothes wet. You sit on the tub's edge, cupping water into your hand and start rubbing along his shoulders and neck, and that's when he makes a small noise, groaning at the gentle touch of your fingers.

"That feels good, pet. Think I like it when you clean me."

"Anytime." The word is out before you can stop it. You start massaging your fingers into his scalp, getting his hair wet. "I mean, you know, I'll take care of you whenever you need it."

"And if I need this every night?"

Your fingers play with his hair and you stubbornly refuse to meet his gaze. You know he's looking at you. Daring you to look him in the eyes. To challenge him. You don't, instead—

"Then I'll give you this every night."

You roll over and show him your belly.

In your peripheral, you see him smirk. Faster than you can react, his hand darts out to grab your wrist. You don't try to fight it as he pulls your hand under the water, brushing your knuckles against the apex of his legs. There's a twitch as he wraps your fingers it. You slowly start to pump your hand and he gifts you with a deep groan.

"Don't I have an attentive master?" Ghost praises and you gulp, but fasten your pace.

Soap said it was your responsibility to take care of him, so that's exactly what you'll do.

-

When you've finally cleaned and dried both yourself and Ghost, you both wander back to the living room where Soap awaits, watching a movie. You go and join him, pecking his cheek when you sit down.

"Come, Ghost." You pat the spot next to you, and he obeys, pulling you into his lap once he gets on the couch. His hands wander shamelessly, catching Soap's attention.

"Good bath?" Soap asks knowingly, chuckling at your dazed expression.

"Uh-huh."

He chuckles at your simple reply and shifts to pat your head. "That's a good girl."

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘: 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓

main masterlist | series masterlist | tag

⬩ pairing(s) gomez inspired!simon "ghost" riley x morticia inspired!fem!reader

⬩ warning(s) language, spiders, devoted husband!simon (seriously, he's absolutely obsessed with you!), pregnancy (mention), dad!simon, mom!reader

⬩ author's note spooky season might be over but it's always halloween at the riley house! saw an addams family gif a little while ago and had to go back and watch the sitcom version from '64. i ended up not being able to stop imagining simon in a relationship like gomez and morticia's–passionate and completely devoted to each other and their family! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it, as there is much more of the riley family to come! (lovely divider is by @wethairjoel)

⬩ word count 1.4k

You’re uncomfortable here. Simon can feel it without even having to look at you.

The lights are too bright in the headmaster’s office, as are all the colors decorating the walls around you. No wonder his little Raven comes home with a frown that reminds him of yours and stories that make the entire house groan.

It’s when you shift for the second time, sniffing and rolling your stiff shoulders, that Simon places a warm palm on the back of your neck. The man watches you carefully as you all but melt into the touch, sinking against his hand with a soft sigh. It takes you a moment but you finally turn your head to meet his eyes, a silent thank you oozing from them in the quiet. His response–a squeeze of his hand–works well to settle you.

“Just a little longer, my darling,” your husband murmurs softly, not having to lean very far in his chair to plant a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear. He takes in a long inhale, the smell of you somewhat calming his frayed nerves. He breathes you in once more before kissing you again, this time on your jaw. “Then we’ll pick up our girl and leave this fuckin' hell they call a school.”

Simon’s lips drag nicely against you as he speaks. Slipping against you with light pecks, and staying there so long that it glides your hand into his grasp without you even noticing.

“I wonder what she’s done now. Hopefully something only a little unfortunate…” you sigh out, Simon laughing shortly against you as his mind fills with all the possible troubles his firstborn can cause. She takes after both you and Simon, he finds. Wickedly smart, fearless, and holds just enough disdain to make it the rest of the world’s problem.

Oh, your little Raven. Named after the blackbird that landed on the window seal the foggy morning you found out you were pregnant nearly seven years ago.

Neither of you bother to look when the door creaks open behind you, as Headmaster Archer is no one to be impressed by. A microscopic grin, however, cracks your lips when you hear his steps hesitate at the sight of you and your husband settled in front of his desk. It’s gone quicker than it came when you remind yourself where you are; in a little man’s stupid office for a reason you already know you’ll despise.

The footsteps resume after a quiet sigh, Headmaster Archer plastering an obviously fake smile as his greeting. He has to ease down in his chair, still not used to how harsh the pitch-black hue of your and Simon’s clothing clashes with the rest of the school.

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley… always a pleasure.”

“I wish we could say the same,” Simon rumbles back with an unimpressed look, the index finger of his free hand absentmindedly drawing swirls on the back of your hand. “Can we get on with it? ‘Ve got places to be.”

“Don’t we all,” Headmaster Archer chuckles rather nervously. The smile on his face drops into something uneasy at the displeased expressions on your and Simon’s faces. He gathers himself with a pathetic clearing of his throat and straightening of some blank, unimportant papers. He doesn’t even attempt to look at you, knowing that his bones will shake hard enough to shatter if he were to do such a thing. Instead, the headmaster settles for a few meek glances in Simon’s direction. “Alright. Well, I’ll try to make this as simple as possible; there was an… incident that occurred in Raven’s class today.”

Even with Simon still gripping just above your back, you grow painfully rigid. Your question leaves you, hot and quick.

“What incident?”

Headmaster Archer swallows thickly, still unable to flick his eyes your way. “It happened during today’s show and tell–”

“Look at my wife when you speak to her, Headmaster.”

The man behind the desk nearly jumps at Simon’s words. They ring darkly in the room, and the headmaster has to wring his shaking fingers hard to gain the courage to finally do as Simon commands. He doesn’t remember how to talk until an arched eyebrow from you has his voice croaking out.

“Tarantulas. She brought tarantulas–three of them, all as big and hairy as a rat–for show and tell. Pulled them out like they were nothing, then tried to pass them around. Her instructor was barely able to reign them up in all the chaos they caused. Children were crying. The adults were shaking. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it…”

The ramble trails off into nothing, allowing you and Simon a moment of quiet while the headmaster wipes at his face with a cheap handkerchief. God, you two make him sweat, and not in a good way.

Tilting your head, you peek over at your husband. He’s already looking at you, face reading ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Licking your lips, your eyes cut back to Headmaster Archer. 

“Not to be obtuse,Headmaster, but I don’t see what your issue is. All she wanted was to show her fellow pupils her favorite pets. Is that really so bad?”

“It is when the pets are spiders, Mrs. Riley. Not just spiders, but dangerous ones that, frankly, a child as young as Raven should not have access to.”

The headmaster has no idea where the things spilling out of his mouth are coming from. Maybe it’s the heat of the room making him a little braver. Maybe it’s because he knows he’ll see Raven’s spiders in his nightmares tonight, you and Simon standing along with them happily while they eat him alive. 

Regret soon washes over him faster than he can think. Even more so when he sees Simon, in all his dark clothes and scars and thick muscles, clench his jaw and shift in his seat like he’s thinking about hitting the man. Coincidentally, you’re the one moving first, giving the hand of a seething Simon a tender squeeze before you uncross your legs to stand.

You don’t have to move any closer than you are now to say what you want. The anger dripping from your tone is sharp enough to slice at him as it always does.

You’re all sinister smiles as you promise the man. “If you upset my daughter again, you’ll have a lot more than a few spiders to worry about, Headmaster.”

With that, you’re gone. Nothing more from you other than one last glare at the headmaster and a sweet kiss on Simon’s cheek before your heels click out of the horrid office. If Simon wasn’t so miffed, he’d remember to swivel his head to watch your hips as you go.

Unlucky for the headmaster, Simon does not swivel or admire. All he does is stare something horrid into the man across from him, eyes so hot they could bore a hole into the sweaty head of Archer if Simon wished it hard enough. 

The two remain in that position for a good while–Headmaster Archer doing all he can not to evaporate into a puddle of fear and Simon nearly wishing the man dead for making his girls upset. It’s around five minutes later when a small voice sounds at the office entrance.

“Papa, can we leave now? Mama’s ready.”

Simon rips away his glare, making sure to soften his eyes as he looks back at his daughter. He can tell she’s a little sad, mostly annoyed, as she cradles her tarantulas in a see-through cage. 

“Of course,” he coos without a second look to the headmaster, raising from his chair and moving to lift his daughter into his arms. He kisses her forehead, arms encircling her to ensure she doesn’t fall. “And you did nothing wrong, my girl. Do you hear me? Let’s just make sure to keep our pets at home from now on, yes? These silly little people don’t know how to appreciate them like you do.”

“Yes, Papa,” little Raven nods dutifully, Simon rewarding her with another kiss on the cheek and rub on her back. “Can we stop and catch crickets for my spiders on the way home? They’ve had a rough day…”

Simon huffs a laugh, glancing down at the cage of spiders with a short smile. He looks back up at his daughter and winks, exiting the office and leaving behind a shaking, sweating, helpless Headmaster Archer.

“Anything for you, my little devil.”

VOTE IN THE LATEST POLL (NOV 4-5)

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[guttednights]

older boyfriend Simon.

warnings : very small mention of smut :3

Older boyfriend Simon who Always opens the doors for you, passenger door, restaurant door, bedroom door, house door, every damn door he can open he will.

Older boyfriend Simon who always brings you flowers when he gets back from a mission.

Older boyfriend Simon who will talk about you constantly when you're not around. at base? talking poor soap and gaz's ears off about how pretty you are. Prices office? still talking about you. In his and soaps shared room? staring at your picture and talking about your favorite things.

older boyfriend Simon who is VERY protective of you. When u first met Gaz, soap, Keegan, and price he threatened to kill them all if they even tried to flirt with you.

Older boyfriend Simon who literally has a tracker on your phone. not in the gross toxic way, almost in the worried mom way. If you want to go out for a girls night he checks that thing 20 times in an hour. Hes just so worried someones gonna hurt his precious girl:(

Older boyfriend Simon who is the definition of scary dog privilege. Like if someone even speaks to you with an attitude for a second they will hear about it for hours. Did someone physically (or mentally) hurt you? you best bet they're getting their ass beat.

Older boyfriend Simon who comes home grumpy from work and raises his voice at you, then immediately feels bad when you start to cry.

Older boyfriend simon who buys you anything you stare at for a second to long. (and buys your whole wish list in 2 months).

Older boyfriend Simon who dosent know how to use his words and apologize so instead buys you gifts. (he's working on using his words better)

Older boyfriend simon whos so jealous after you talk to a man that he bends you over the table at home and makes you moan his name until "you've learned your lesson"

Older boyfriend Simon who uses "pet names" for you. he never uses your real name, its always, princess, missus, sweetheart, doll, and recently "princessa" (we can thank Alejandro for that)

Side notes: I just really wanted to babble on about older boyfriend simon, and how i think he would act idk, i just feel like hes very obsessed and feral for you. i also want to make a whole series of what its like living with older boyfriend Simon

[crrtite]

Ooooch i need more simon groveling, he deserves that 😈

I looooove humbling him hehe, og post + add on drabble here!

cw: Simon is a tad bit unhealthily obsessed with reader, character growth…?, yearning if I’ve ever seen it, reader standing on business but Simon doesn’t even gaf, he wants that cookie so effing bad.

It's been weeks since he's heard you say more than two sentences to him.

He's always been a man who keeps his composure. It's a big part of the 'Ghost' persona, known for his stoic nature and unreadable demeanor. Nothing can phase a man like Ghost, that's what makes him so dangerous.

Simon, however.

His mind is a mess. His own brain at war with itself. He’s used to actual war, the mental and physical toll it takes. It’s what he’s built himself for.

But you? You’re something he couldn’t have prepared himself for even if he tried.

It’s taken him a hell of a long time to come to terms with the fact that he’s obsessed with taken a liking to you. He’s never had a serious relationship before, off-putting by nature and preferring to spend his time alone.

He’s still been watching you, analyzing every detail about you and every interaction you have as well. He knows he’s obsessing over you, but can’t find it in himself to care. He hasn’t wanted anything this bad in a long time.

The issue, however, is you. You haven’t paid him any mind since the day he walked out mid (one sided on your part) conversation. You’ve got self respect, and he loves admires that about you. But fuck, he misses you so bad. He beat himself up a bit, mentally berating himself for being such a prick to you. He’s come to terms with the fact he fucked up, which took him forever.

His next obstacle is deciding what to do with these intense, all consuming feelings he has toward you.

He decides that he needs you, and will get you to at least acknowledge his loyalty to you, no matter how long it takes. And in his own way, starts to show it. Finds himself wanting to be sweet to you, speak softer and handle you with care. However, he’s quite literally never been gentle with anything in his life, that innocent compassion repressed because all he’s known since childhood was how to conceal.

He starts trying to make your life easier, viewing it as his commitment to being better for you. And this doesn’t go unnoticed, not by you. You’ve always been clever, he thinks. You don’t seem affected by his gestures, usually waving him off with a ‘thank you, L.t’ and that sweet, charming smile that he took for granted. He knows he’s a fool, that he was wrong, and he’s sorry. He’s out of his element, putting himself out on a limb. But he’s willing for you, the object of his desire and the cause of his inner torment.

His ever-burning infatuation doesn’t seem like it will be dwindling any time soon. He’s never been a religious man, but he’s praying that you’ll see him internally begging for you to come back to him.

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)

hockey player simon riley x f!reader’s relationship, through the eyes of the fans // sort of smau

i was listening to 5sos’ slsp while writing this so!!! sorry i went bonkers 😔 i just love this au sm

simon riley is obsessed with his girl, and it is maddeningly endearing.

of course he’s in love with you, everyone could see even from a continent away, but there is something clingy, possessive, in the way simon hovers around you. like you’d disappear right before his eyes if he wasn’t pressed close; if his tattooed arm wasn’t looped around your waist or his thick fingers were not twined with yours.

it is new, unheard of, even riley’s loyal fans says so, but it’s just so—

nice.

(the word is inadequate, they know, but there’s nothing close that could describe how heart-fluttering his devotion to you is.)

riley has always been a private person, sharing only sparse details of his life. one can even easily locate his earliest instagram post because there’s just about twenty uploads in his account since its creation—from 2017, and it’s a broken hockey stick. even that throw-away picture continues to amass likes as new fans come scouring whatever of him they can find.

his latest post was during last season’s finals’ celebrations—a series of pictures of the boys carrying the stanley cup. the first few pictures were all professionally taken, but the rest splinters into blurred shots of mactavish and garrick, particularly, drinking from the cup from inside of the locker room.

it said: thank you all.

curt, direct, but not any less meaningful.

cut to this year, mid-regular season (january), and after five months of drought, the simon riley posted a picture. and it wasn’t just any picture, but it was a hard launch of his new partner.

it was a selfie, taken by you, the camera angled just slightly. your back was pressed to his chest, and his chin was hooked to your shoulder, and, cheek-to-cheek, the two of you grin up at the camera. the background was distinctly new york, central park, so it must have been taken after the specgru’s game against the rangers (0-4 for the specgru).

for the caption, he wrote: she’s never been here before.

in an instant, all of the speculations were confirmed—the most eligible bachelor of the franchise is, finally, in an official relationship.

news articles popped up after that, speculations bloating at the shocking news. some people have even said that they’re sure they’ve seen you prior to the announcement—weren’t you that one fan simon riley was flirting with while he was on ice, mid-game?

(you were.

you were even one of the people that was tagged in johnny’s story before it got preemptively taken down; and the same person seen with the other WAGs, sprinkles of your silhouette seen on pictures like the ones that are taken on the days when the franchise flies them for game nights or the countless ones during the unveiling of the season’s WAGs jackets.

you have been a part of their circle even before the world knew who you were and, somehow, that was comforting; how simon riley had not thrown you to the wolves—or vultures, as mactavish snarled when they’ve hounded him about his fiancee’s abrupt end of her season in the FIVB, like her health wasn’t the priority over her career—and instead made sure you were surrounded by people who knew how to survive amidst the scrutiny.)

and, just like that, the dam called simon-riley’s-secret-album-of-you broke.

what had been a sporadic activity in his account exploded into series of posts, one update every week. it was a whirlwind of excitement because no one from the hockey world has ever seen this much of simon riley’s life.

he was always unapproachable, distant, like there’s always a wall between him and the rest of the world. like in exchange of being called the living legend, the guiding star, simon riley gets to shirk away from the public whenever he chooses. and who can fault him for that? riley’s career has always been heavily documented—people knew him even before he was drafted into the league, they had betted on his rookie year, and then had put him in a lonely pedestal. so of course he is fiercely protective of his privacy.

only a select few get to truly know him, only a select few have stories of simon that isn’t about the ice or hockey or his in-the-works legacy. only a select few see him beyond his crown, and now he’s giving a piece of his true self to the world because of you.

because you are worth showing off.

because life with you is worth celebrating.

.

riley41

[it’s a candid image of you standing on the balcony, wearing a too-big of a shirt that is getting ruffled by the wind and pyjama pants, and leaning over the railing as you stare at the scenery. you’re all silhouette because your body is devoured by the orange rays of the sunrise, its tendrils spilling into the wooden floors of the hotel room.]

liked by jmactavish.91, reyenzo14, and others

riley41 ibiza

.

riley41

[it’s a series. the first image is of the two of you on his motorcycle, the picture taken from simon’s bike’s camera. you’re both wearing tinted helmets and leather gears, the background a blur of colours which indicates that this was taken mid-ride. you’re gripping him tightly and your body is almost fully-covered by his bulk, leaving only the top half of your helmet to be seen peering from his shoulders.

the second image is of the beach. it’s dusk, and the sky is an explosion of pinks and purples and blues.

the third image is a selfie with your visors up. you’re looking at the camera with a shy smile, your eyes squinted because of how bright it still is, while simon only has his eyes on you.]

liked by pricejhn2, alexkeller_, and others

riley41 vroom

.

riley41

[it’s a mirror selfie of the two of you, with simon taking the photo. the background is notably his house. your back is facing the mirror, your head tilted to rest on his shoulder, while his arm is curled around your waist. you’re wearing this season’s WAG jacket—it’s black and green, their colours. the pose now makes sense because you’re showing off the back of the jacket that spells out RILEY 41 in white. simon’s wearing their away-jersey.]

liked by kylegarrick, konig_76, and others

riley41 game six let’s go

.

riley41

[it’s a video; the angle shows that it is taken by someone else. you and simon are hugging, and are swaying lightly as the two of you dance to the faint sound of music booming from somewhere behind the camera. simon’s mouthing the lyrics to your ear, his cheeks flushed like he’s buzzed from drinking, while you giggle and softly rub your palm at his back.]

liked by jmactavish.91, kylegarrick, and others

riley41 my favourite person

.

.

yourname

[it’s a candid picture you’ve taken of simon sleeping while he uses your lap as pillow. the angle captures the way your fingers are playing with his hair and scratching his scalp gently. the picture is a little blurry because there’s not enough light to properly focus the lens.]

liked by riley41, jjoanne.spam, and others

yourname im the happiest when im with him

[quarterlifekitty]

really fucking loosely inspired by this

Imagine dying with Soap. Complete strangers, a complete accident. You were on the crosswalk, the light was yours, but the car sped through anyways, distracted.

Dying in the same place and at the same time has a way of tethering spirits together. And in a short time, you find that you and Johnny get along famously. Shame you couldn't have met when you were alive. And thank god you died outside-- you'd hate to be housebound. So you follow Johnny when he wants to check on his mates. He's good company, and you get this feeling in the pit of your soul that you can't stray too far from each other anyways.

His best friend, Ghost, is not taking things so well. In fact, he's taking things very fucking badly. Terrible enough that Soap died-- it's made worse by the fact that his death was so random, so meaningless. He hadn't known it, but he'd made up his mind a long time ago that either he'd die in combat before Soap or they'd both live forever.

He fails to accept losing Soap to a random accident. Which, Johnny had predicted easily when you were on the train to Manchester. Man's gonnae be bloody inconsolable, I reckon. Probably lose all his sense, too. What he hadn't predicted is that you'd be a part of his breakdown.

Simon had always had a way of finding things out. And you're the latest subject of his obsession. He seemed to think that the accident had had something to do with you. It must've been that you were the target. There had to be a reason. There had to be more to this than some distracted driver. Before long, he knows everything that there is to know about you, but he's no closer to solving the mystery, because there is no mystery.

Something about death tends to make you take things less seriously. Soap is laughing his ass off about how Ghost is pretty much losing sleep looking at shit like your yearbook photos and work emails. Meanwhile, being unable to talk to anyone else in the entire world has made you and Soap a lot freakier. It probably takes less than a week for Soap to solve the eternal question of 'can ghosts fuck'. And he takes to testing what other limits his new form has. Simon won't react to anything you do at all, no matter how close Johnny gets when he's whispering in his ear. You get very slightly more success, for reasons not clear to either of you (you tell Johnny it's because you're not a fucking idiot, which prompts him to smack your ass).

You heard when you were alive that it was easier to psychologically suggest things to people by talking to them while they were asleep.

What this is all leading up to, really, is you laying on opposite sides of a bed with Ghost between you, whispering filth into his ear while running your spectral hands over him and watching him tremor and writhe while his cock twitches in his boxers.

[circlebuttons]

Simon Riley as a father

-father!simonriley who returns home from deployment to his toddler son wanting nothing to do with him

Simon Riley doesn't just want a wife and kids. He wants to be a husband and father, so when your toddler starts to velcro himself to you Simon tries very hard not to take it personally. It was merely just a coincidence that your toddler developed this new obsession with you during Simon’s last deployment, but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty. Your son is in a phase where he just wants to be under you twenty four seven, even having meltdowns in Simon’s arms some days when you have to leave home without him. It's endearing how he follows you around like a little duckling and gives you the sweetest little hugs and kisses just because, but the issue arises the more he starts giving Simon glares for even daring to try to join the two of you in hand holding or wedging his little footie covered body between the two of you in bed. Your son meets Simon with rejection just about any chance he gets no matter how many times you try to remind him to be kind to his father, and you can tell by Simon’s expressions and body language that it stings a lot of the time. You make sure to love on him extra when you have moments alone, assuring him often that in a few days this new phase will be over, your hand lightly massaging his shoulder, reaching across said toddler who's sound asleep with his arms and legs strewn across the two of you.

It isn't until Simon saves the day with his remarkable dad strength that he's no longer on your toddlers shit list. You're in the kitchen making lunch for both of them when your son appears at your side with a juice he's pulled from the pantry with your permission. He hands it to you to open but the character head attached to the nozzle always makes the bottle hard to grip and open, especially when your nails are done. You grunt softly after trying to open it a few times, an idea popping into your head after your last failed attempt. You crouch down slightly to be on his level before flitting your eyes over to Simon sitting quietly at the kitchen island, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop and by the way he quickly typed and furrows his eyebrow you can tell he's answering last minute work emails. You nod to him and quietly suggest that, "Maybe if you go ask daddy nicely and give him a big kiss he'll open it."

He thinks it over for a few seconds before pattering over to Simon, determination in his eyes as he pulls at his pant leg. You watch as his eyebrows shoot high up, surprised at the interaction before he effortlessly opens the bottle with a smile. His eyes catch yours when he leans down to receive his "thank you" and cheek kiss, mouthing an excited "You see this?"

You nod excitedly at him, happy that your boys are loving on each other again, what more could you want?

[cherie-doll]

could you please write a story like the reader is engaged to the cod men and they introduce themselves with their man's last name. like "good morning I'm y/n riley" like that? thank you so much if you decide to write this? YOU DA BESTT

Introducing Yourself With Their Last Name

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

❥ Price knew that soon you'd be switching out your last name for his... soon. But he hadn't thought it over as much, hadn't ever let it slip from his lips nor tried calling it out to hear how it would sound. Unlike him, you had taken to writing it out, whispering it secretly; obsessing over it like some schoolgirl. You couldn't help but want to tease him a little, you let it fall from your lips one day when meeting some of his friends. You felt his gaze on you, felt the warmth of his smile after the initial surprise. He calls you by his last name every chance he gets. "Just practicing" he says.

❥ Simon's reaction was hard to grasp underneath the balaclava he wore to your outing together; he hadn't expected to meet someone he used to work with. He had briefly introduced the man to you, leaving it up to you to tell him your name. But he hadn't expected to hear you say his last name. It was the first time he had heard your name and his put together. And it was like something clicked. He tried it out himself. It sounded so right, so smooth. He chuckled. How come he hadn't realized it before? It was only natural it not only sounded but also felt perfect. He couldn't wait for the day it became your last name officially.

❥ Soap would be saying your name with his last name ever since you accepted his proposal. But you had only laughed then, until you decided to be a little more serious and say it in front of others. He hadn't ever heard it from you, didn't expect you to confidently call yourself by his surname. He was shocked for a moment before quickly picking his jaw up off the floor and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and smiling brightly at who you had introduced yourself to. It had him in high spirits for the rest of the day. Now he wanted to hear it more often, trying to find another opportunity for you to introduce yourself just so he could hear it again.

❥ Kyle had been hinting at wanting you to use his last name for a while now. He knew he'd only have to wait a little longer for it to be in paper on the document, but he wanted to hear it. This time, he was obsessing over it, practicing writing it out and trying to get you to say it. "C'mon... it'd be nice to get used to it" he would literally almost beg you. You didn't know how badly he wanted it, until you decided to give in. You didn't tell him, no warning beforehand when you blurted it out when introducing yourself to someone new. It was so blunt and sudden to him, you could see him gaping at you from the corner of your eye. The only way you could get him to stop was sliding your hand into his, interlocking fingers.

❥ Roach was rather shy about wanting to ask you, afraid of having you think he was trying to rush things with something small like this. He could only gaze at you with those softened eyes that were only for you. His eyes would glaze, get that faraway look as he imagined you standing at the altar, accepting his last name as yours. He flinched hearing his last name, he had zoned out when you were busy talking to someone. It took him a moment to catch onto the fact that you had just introduced yourself with his last name. And it brightened his day, he leaned into you a little, smiling like an idiot as he kept replaying that moment. The familiar fuzzy feeling when you're in love arising and fluttering in his chest.

❥ Alejandro wished for more than anything else for you to use his last name. He still left it up to you and your customs whether you would adopt his last name or not, never did he want to pressure you into changing it if you didn't want to. The subject wasn't talked about much and he assumed you wouldn't use his last name, it was only a name after all. But you stunned him when he heard you saying it proudly. Oh, he was overjoyed, never wanting you to stop saying it every chance you got.

❥ Rudy didn't want you to feel obligated to part with your last name if you truly didn't want to. To some it may feel like erasing a part of you, and he didn't want you to bend just for him. However, you didn't mind. You gave him quite the surprise when you openly used his last name, in a good way of course. He didn't know what to say, but he felt a surge of love the moment you said it. Anytime you said it, whether in public or only between you two, the reaction was the same, still feeling soft on the inside.

❥ Phillip had joked all the time ever since proposing to you about when you'd change your last name for his. "Aren't ya excited you'll be Graves soon?". He brings it up as often as he can just to make you flustered or tease you. Although it was mostly jokingly, he did await for the day you would officially be seen as his in the eyes of others. But you still got a reaction out of him, when he overheard you using his last name. He was proud of the name he had made of himself, and was pleased to know you had found it worthy to use it for yourself.

❥ Makarov always put his name on things that belong to him. Ever since he was a child, he liked labeling his things, people must know to who it belongs to. He had a similar view of this matter too, wanting you to use his surname. Not that he viewed you as an object, nor a thing to be possessed and owned. He cared for you immensely, and knew you would be untouchable in the eyes of others if you had the name of someone they would have to think twice before messing with. Still, there was a ripple within him when he heard you introducing yourself with his surname. He didn't smile smugly, instead affectionately.

❥ Keegan hadn't put much thought to it. He didn't see what was wrong with his last name for you not to take it, but also didn't want to make you go through the paperwork of changing it if it was too much of a hassle. But you liked it, had a nice ring to it. When he heard it aloud, he had just walked into the room where you were talking with your friend over the phone. You had said that from now on you'd use Keegan's last name. You didn't notice him leaning against the doorframe, smiling smugly as he crossed his arms and observed you. He liked hearing it, especially from you. Now he couldn't wait to say it too.

❥ König had been dozing off at a function, already wanting to leave after sitting for a few minutes and feeling bored. He really wasn't one for sitting in idleness and dabbling in meaningless conversations. Slumping on the couch, he felt his eyelids become heavy and was ready to ignore everyone else until he heard his last name in that oh so familiar voice of yours. He sat up straight, fixing his posture like when a teacher called out his name at school. He had caught just enough of your conversation to know you were using his surname to refer to yourself. Although he sat motionless, he felt his heart beat faster, content on the inside at hearing that. It kept him awake for the rest of the function.

❥ Horangi had grown up with his father's last name, his mother's different because it was common to not change your surname even after marriage. He assumed you'd do the same. You kept thinking about whether you'd change it or not, after all the decision was yours, no pressure at all. You pondered quite a bit and decided to test his reaction. You started introducing yourself with his surname whenever you met new people. His reaction was funny at first, it was like he didn't understand. Until, he caught on and would have to look away to hide the smile that was playing on his lips from being seen. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

❥ Nikto wanted you to take his surname, he had been thinking about it for quite a while now. He dedicated time to carefully think about how it'd sound. You remembered him suggesting you practice how to write it; no context given. You were confused at first, not knowing why he would tell you to write his last name, but you did it anyways. Not long passed before you were able to catch on. You liked his surname and decided to practice saying it, making sure not to butcher the pronunciation. It made him satisfied to hear you not only adopt it but also start using it in front of others. He called you all sorts of sweet things for it.