#i love simon riley

[scottpilgrimvsmyfists]

hi cod fandom does anyone have any sort of dark recs for x simon and x price fics?? Im really craving some right now and fluff and smut are not enough to fill this void

Or honestly any good dark recs in general? I’m looking for a something similar to in limbo by corediawhohung and things like that bc MHM I eat those up

[jnsmeyv]

"𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

Simon Riley x Reader |Fluff|

The sun has finally started to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow all over Manchester as you stood in your balcony. The gentle breezed ruffled your hair while taking a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of your surroundings. This was your only way of relief, your escape from the chaos of your own life.

You knew you weren't alone on that balcony as you heard familiar footsteps approaching. It was Simon. He stood beside you, his silhouette sharply delineated against the colorful sky. His blue eyes gazed into the distance, and you could sense the weight of his thoughts. Simon was man of a few words, though his actions spoke louder.

"You come here often?" he finally spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

You shrugged, a small smile painted on you lips. "Whenever the world becomes too much."

He nodded in response, his gaze never leaving the view. "I get that."

Once again the two of you stood there for a while, sharing the comfortable silence that you two cherish the most. You and Simon went through so much together, seen the darkest sides of the world, faced so many ups and downs and grew stronger each time. There was this bond between the two of you, unspoken and unbreakable.

As the last traces of daylight fade, you turn to face Simon, eyes meeting each others, and for a moment, you felt like you two were the only people in the world. You reached your hand out to gently hold on to his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"Hey" you said softly, "you know you can always talk t'me right?"

Simon's jaw tensed slightly, you can see the hurt in his eyes. Simon was a pro at hiding his emotions, but you had learned to read subtle cues that betrayed his own feelings.

"i know" he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Its just hard finding the right words."

You softly squeezed his arm "you dont have to find the perfect words. Just tell me and i'll listen."

He hesitated for a moment before letting out a sigh and he finally opened up to you.

Your heart ached for him, for the burdens he carried. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He returned the embrace, his grip firm and comforting.

"Simon, your not defined by your past." you whispered your soft reassurance against his ear. "You've saved countless lives, including mine. Your a hero. My hero."

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours. "And what about you? you faced danger as much as i have."

You smiled, brushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. "im just a regular person trying to make a difference, but having you by my side makes everything less scary."

Simon's lips curved into a smile, as he reached up to cup your cheeks, thumb brushing against your skin. "You have a way of making even the darkest moments seem brighter."

The atmosphere between the two of you was charged with unspoken words, emotion swirling in the space between your bodies.

When you finally pulled away from the embrace Simon's eye held a mixture of suprise and something else—a vulnerability that he rarely showed. You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the man who had become your anchor in your world full of chaos.

"sometimes," you murmured, "all it takes is one person to remind you that your not alone."

Simon nodded, his hands still resting against your cheeks. "And your the right person for me."

You leaned to his touch, savoring the warmth that he provided with his hands. You two didn't need grand gestures to elaborate confessions; this moment, this connection said it all.

Both of you knew theres still more challenges to come ahead, but as long as you've got each other, there was nothing that could break the two of you.

And at that fleeting moment, as you stood side by side, the weight of the world seems a little lighter. There was a void you didn't know needed filling. And now that you found each other, that void is filled.

[nervouslaughter05]

Chapter 6: Shots Fired

A/N: HELLOOOOOOOO I have settled into my new workplace (mostly) and am happy to say I'm getting married in a little over a week! With some newfound free time I'm finding myself to have, I have rediscovered my life of writing! I'm very happy to present the next chapter. I did my best to proofread it, but I'm sure there's still weird language/grammar in it. As always, please heed the content warnings and enjoy! CW: Canon-typical violence, language, mentions of killing

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Grizzly was second to last in the group, Gaz behind her. Price was up front, leading the team through the woods to the assigned pickup point. While she had been asleep, they’d managed to radio back into base and get in contact with the remainder of the team there. The man who’d given them their brief, some high ranking officer her sleep-deprived brain couldn’t remember, had been absolutely livid when they made contact and reported the death of the other team. She suspected it was less anger and more grief, as it would have been for Price had he found out that the lot of them had died on a mission. 

Once again, she’s reminded of just how fragile her very existence was, seemingly held above a floor covered in bubbling lava and sharp rocks by a thin string threatening to snap at any moment.

The woods around them were filled with life, birds chirping happily away and insects buzzing somewhere off to her right. Very likely given the lay of the land there was a small stream somewhere, tucked away. She would’ve loved to explore the area if they were there under different circumstances. However, they were all trudging through the undergrowth holding various forms of weaponry on the lookout for an organization bent on killing them.

So yeah, Grizzly was probably gonna pass on the casual stroll through the grass for today.

The med bag on her back was cumbersome, the bottom of it smacking against her tailbone with each step instead of fitting nicely into her lower back like the one back home did. Unfortunately, there was only so much gear she could bring with her, and the custom fitted pack her marines had gifted to her wasn’t part of the list. She’d taken some pain killers a couple hours ago, but they weren’t strong enough to fully rid her of the pain from her wounds. She was saving that for the rest of the team in case shit hit the fan again. 

“So you and Lt were fending alone in the safehouse while we were gone eh?” Soap asks from in front of her. “Can’t imagine being alone with him for that long. Drove me mad in Las Alamas, and half of that was with him just in my ears.”

She snorts, remembering that entire situation. Granted, she’d been unconscious for the first hour or so from the blow to her head–which when she thought about it needed a concussion exam that she never received–but had still been awake for a good majority of what had happened. Graves had betrayed them and in the fight that ensued, a shadow had decided to whack the back of her head with the butt of his rifle and try to take her hostage like they did Alejandro. Ghost had carried her out of the line of fire while Soap had fled injured. She tries not to think about that night too often.

“Put aside the bad dad jokes and he’s really not that bad to be around,” Grizzly replies, adjusting the straps of her bag on her shoulders for the hundredth time while they had been walking.

“Lunatics the both of ya,” he says and she just chuckles.

Gaz pipes up from behind her, asking, “What did the two of you get up to while the rest of us were making our way to you?”

Grizzly shrugs, acting very nonchalant about the entire thing. She was definitely going to leave out how she’d almost died out there if it hadn’t been for the lieutenant’s help–at least until they got to the evac. Knowing that taking too long to answer would make them suspect something, she just tells them a quick version of what happened. She also was going to leave out the exchange she’d had with Ghost following her inability to sleep.

“Ghost and I had a mild run-in on the way to the safehouse, but other than that it was just us standing watch and waiting for all of you to show up.”

Soap turns his head to look back at her, likely to ask about the “mild run-in” they’d had. There’s a sudden commotion off to their left and all of them are instantly leveling their weapons at the source of the noise. She sees Ghost and Price swap looks out of the corner of her eye and she braces for the next move.

A racoon–the same fat and lazy one from earlier–literally <i>rolls</i> his fat little–

‘Well maybe not so little.’ 

-Ass from a clump of shrubbery. 

“Right,” Price says after a moment. “Carry on lads. It’s just a-fuck!”

A bullet whizzed past his head, lodging into the tree behind him. 

“Get down!”

Grizzly had dropped the second a bullet had fired, low crawling to a spot of cover. Soap and Gaz both join her after a few seconds, and then Ghost and Price after them. 

Ghost was already set to go, his rifle set up in its proper position with Soap doing the same. She was mentally cataloging the medical supplies left in her bag. Grizzly knew her current stash was lower than what she needed, purely because this mission was only supposed to be a day at most and had turned into almost three at this point. While she would normally pack extras given the lessons learned in her days as a marine doc, that didn’t mean it was enough for the potential injuries from a conflict like this. 

There’s no further shots fired, the woods around them deathly still. The birds had stopped chirping–how long had they been quiet?–and upon quick inspection of their surroundings the racoon had made it to safety. Funny how she felt relief over a random animal not being shot. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap mutters under his breath. “Damn bastards just can’t die.”

Grizzly grimaces. “American’s are a bit like cockroaches–even if you cut off our heads we still keep squirming for a while.”

“Wouldn’t a chicken that’s lost its head be more accurate, eh?” he counters.

“Now is not the time,” Ghost barks at them, and Gaz snickers. “Eyes sharp.”

It’s a moment before anything happens, but there’s a spattering of gunfire that sounds off above their heads. Grizzly recognizes the use of assault rifles from the sound. All of them stay hunkered down behind their cover, which was a fallen log and some rock clusters.

“Your teams have made some <i>big</i> trouble for me,” a voice informs them, deep with a slight southern tinge to it. “I’ve been operating for years with no trouble and all of the sudden some big bad english men dressed in fancy military uniforms wanna put an end to it? I don’t think so, buddy. Bless your bleeding hearts for wanting to help the greater cause, but y’all need to get the fuck out of my business before I make things difficult.”

‘What the fuck?’ she mouths to Soap as the man speaks.

“What? Are y’all deaf now too? My boys blow out your eardrums? Answer me,” the man demands, and she’s reminded faintly of the stereotypical abusive father you’d see in movies. Oops.

“It’s nothin’ personal lads,” Price calls out from behind their shelter and she almost laughs at how ridiculous this whole situation was. “Just conducting our own business. Same as you. Gotta make a paycheck somehow.”

The man chuckles. “Damn right. However, I don’t work for the government, Captain John Price.”

She goes stiff. This fucker knew who Price was? How the actual fuck-

“Yes, I know who you  are, Captain,” he tells them, sounding like a mother consoling a distraught child. “Just like you Captain, I’m a businessman. And like any good businessman I always look at any roadblocks I may face.”

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” Soap curses under his breath. “How the fuck did this bastard find out who Price is?”

“And it’s not just you, Captain. I know you have Lieutenant Simon Riley, Sergeants Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick and John ‘Soap’ Mactavish, and your wonderful medic– Petty Officer First Class Katelyn Ard. Am I missing anyone?” he continues, seeming all too pleased with himself.

His voice reminded her of the Lofthouse cookies back in the states with that frosting so sweet that it would make your stomach churn.

“You seem to be an educated man,” Price says. “And a reasonable one. Could we chat about this?”

“I’m afraid y’all lost the right to a casual ‘chat’ about this with me when you entered my facility and killed my men. So, please understand that what I do is nothing personal,” the man replies, and she hears several pairs of footsteps approaching them. “It’s just business.”

Men come around the sides of their cover, leveling the barrels of their weapons at them. Gaz reacts instantly, putting a bullet through the skull of the guy closest to them while Ghost and Price are doing the same. Soap, herself, and Price all pop up over the cover they’re behind, firing at the man and the men he’d brought with him. 

He was tall and broad, face covered in the shadow from his felt cowboy hat. He was well-dressed too, a show of his wealth from the various trafficking operations he ran. She doesn’t have a chance to process what he looks like much more before she’s firing off bullets in his direction along with that of his companions. Another man drops from where he’d taken cover behind a tree, blood pooling from the hole in his forehead. Grizzly drops down, reloading a fresh magazine in before popping back up. 

“Pull back!” the boss calls out over the sound of gunfire. “I’m not gonna lose more men to these fuckin’ Brits!”

The men began to retreat, firing off shots behind them so they couldn’t pursue too closely if at all. 

“Hold your fire,” Price orders, voice sharp. “We need to get the hell out of here and reapproach this later.”

“Price we cannae let this chance get away from us!” Soap protests. 

Gaz chimes in. “We don’t know when we’ll be able to come back-if at all.”

The captain shushes them, not wanting to hear any form of argument. Soap and Gaz deflate, the former of the two pouting over it. They stay on the defensive for a while–Grizzly doesn’t keep track exactly how long–before Price gives them the okay to get up and start moving again. This time, they move with a different speed than they had before, wanting to get out of these woods and back to base to avoid another confrontation like what they’d just had. Ammo was valuable and medical supplies as well, both of which they were burning through like it like a fire on dry grass. 

Price radioed back into the unit receiving them from the base, giving very light details about what had happened and confirming pickup.

It’s another 30 minutes or so before they get to the evac point, now just waiting for the humvees to roll up and take them back to base. The vehicles appear very soon after their arrival, one full of an additional support team should the need arise and the other empty for them to load up into. Grizzly gets in last, looking through her med bag as they start rolling back to base. The entire time she’s going through her bag, she’s thinking of that soldier she’d tried to save. Soap had told her that in the firefight that had split all of them up, he’d been shot again several times. One of the bullet wounds had cut open his carotid artery and the Scot had been able to do nothing except hold the dying man and try to give him some peace in his last moments. 

The knowledge destroyed her inside, but the pain from the loss got locked up into that box inside of her mind for the deaths of the men she served with. There were many lives inside there. Grizzly refused to let them out however–that would require a therapist, straight tequila, or a heartfelt conversation with her coworkers she knew would never happen.

00000

The team had all come back to base and gotten through the mission debrief, being sent off to medical for their injuries. The medical staff there had been surprised at Grizzly’s work. They’d complimented her on the stitches she’d placed, something she’d gotten experience in from her time out in the field. She just accepted the compliments without much thought and remained silent for most of their care to her. She really only spoke up when necessary to point out areas that were in pain or her own observations to the injured parts of her body.

After being discharged, Grizzly makes her way back to the main bay, flopping into her rack with a huff. Ghost was already back, having been discharged before them from the lack of sustained injuries. Price had to go off and handle business with the man who’d conducted their brief and also Laswell to reevaluate their steps going forward. Soap and Gaz went to grab some food from the mess hall, so they’d probably be gone for a while. 

All she wanted to do was sleep, not even that hungry despite a lack of food for the last almost 48 hours. 

“You should eat.”

‘‘’M tired,’’ she replies, voice muffled from how her face is pressed into her pillow. “Don’t feel like getting up.”

Ghost scoffs softly and she hears some light rustling before something is placed next to her head. Grizzly lifts up her head and sees a small styrofoam container that was hot to the touch. She raises an eyebrow looking at the lieutenant. 

“What’s this?” she asks as she sits up and sits cross legged with her back on the wall her rack was pushed against.

“Food,” he replies, like that wasn’t obvious. “Figured you wouldn’t want to grab anythin’, so I stopped by on my way back.”

Something weird and fluttery unfurls in her gut, but she shoves it down. “Thank you.”

He simply gives a gruff “Don’ mention it” and settles into his own rack–the one coincidentally next to hers on his back. His back is against the rails at the head of the mattress, most of his gear discarded next to his bunk much like she was about to do. The only thing left on him was the skull mask, his cargos and boots, and a black long sleeve. The fabric was stretched across his chest and torso, showing just how big he was even without all of his bulky gear. 

Grizzly goes through the process of removing all of her own gear, tac vest thumping on the ground and her weapons into the locker beneath her bed provided to each member of her team. Her boots are the last to come off, laying off to the side neatly as she leans back against the wall and opens the container. Her mouth waters, the smell of veggies and meat filling her nose. 

Fuck she missed having actually good food from the mess. 

Digging in, Grizzly mulls over the results of their mission in her head. She replays everything over in her head in an attempt to try and make sense of the shitshow they’d been thrown into on this mission. That man had known who they all were somehow, and she wanted to know how and, most importantly, why. She knew that there were people out there that would want to harm them purely for their affiliation with the military, but none had ever gone so far as to get their names. Frankly, no one was able to access that information either with how many passwords it would take to find their files. 

That in turn begs the question of who gave them that access.

“Get ready to head back to the states,” Ghost tells her, voice cutting through her thoughts. “We’re not likely to stay. Not after what happened out there.”

She almost chokes on her next bite of food, swallowing and looking up at her lieutenant suddenly. “What?”

“We’re wasting time and resources being here. It’s a bigger risk for us to stay than it is to go at this point.”

Grizzly finishes her last mouthful. “Those bastards know who we are, Ghost. Anyone we may know is at risk. Our families are at risk.”

“If he had wanted your families dead, then he would’ve already handled the problem.”

“Not necessarily,” she counters, suddenly feeling anxious. “He could be waiting for us to come back to the states or try to contact our families in some way. For all we know our families could have been already getting monitored without our knowledge of it.”

“Your families are fine,” Ghost tells her, and her worry-ridden mind barely processes his tone of voice before she’s carrying on. 

“But-”

“Your families are fine,” Ghost repeats, voice much firmer this time.

It was at that moment she remembers that the man never talks about his family…ever and worries that she may have struck a nerve. So, in place of trying to dig for what had made his voice so hard, she simply nods her head and falls silent. It was much easier than trying to unwrap the mystery that was Ghost. 

It’s silent for a while, and Grizzly worries she may have upset her lieutenant. 

“Get some rest,” he tells her right as she begins to worry he was plotting her murder. “I’ll wake ya if anything happens.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The exhaustion weighing down her bones makes itself known again, and she doesn’t fight his suggestion. Instead, she slips under the thin sheet and scratchy blanket issued upon her arrival here. Her body relaxes damn near instantly, melting into the mattress. Grizzly settles with her back to the wall so she could roll out of her rack faster should there be a need for such. 

With her eyelids being pulled down by fatigue, she fights off unconsciousness long enough to murmur, “Try to get some sleep too, Ghost.”

Not expecting a response, she lets herself drift off.

A/N: Me talking about the slow burn: "I've connected the dots" My friend: "You haven't connected shit" Me: "I've connected them"

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

i just know that is that cannon that simon has a motorcycle (right?) but what if he was the ghost rider? yeah, that the one. the one from the movie/comics.

to save his johnny's life, he makes a pact with the devil. after a while, every time he wears his skull mask, his body is consumed in hellfire, so he just rides around scaring people in the streets 👀

Idk if it's canon? I think it's just widespread fanon!

But Ghostrider Simon would be BEAUTIFUL! I've seen someone draw that up before!

[citrusymoon]

Man’s got butterfly lashes

[scottpilgrimvsmyfists]

Doing this to my bf ALWAYS gains the same reaction and I love it

“Simon.” You mumble against his muscular chest, face squished into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes, love?”

“Is this attempted murder?”

“No, love.” He grumbles sleepily, his heavy weight only pressing further into where he has you pinned beneath him. “‘M just hugging’ ya…” his sentence ends in a yawn, covering up the sound of your groan in protest.

“Si, this hug feels like attempted murder.” You could attempt to wriggle out from underneath him, but that’s a lost cause and you know it.

Bending your knees, you slide your bare feet up the back of his calves.

“Fuck!” He shouts, finally fully waking up and rolling off you. He doesn’t go far though, landing next to you on the mattress and instantly pulling you into his embrace. “Fuckin’ toes are freezin’. You got any feeling left in those feet o’ yours?”

“None at all, actually. Glad you asked. You can massage them for me.”

“With pleasure. One o’ them happy endin’ massages, aye?”

[machveil]

Roommate!Simon Riley that doesn’t correct people for thinking you’re dating. Simon’s minding the trolley while you grab a box of cereal at the store, idly standing by while watching people dip in and out of the aisle. when an older woman says you make a cute couple he just nods and says ‘thank you, ma’am’. he especially doesn’t correct someone when he stalks up behind you, a protective hand on your hip when they scoff and ask, “Is this your boyfriend?”

Roommate!Simon Riley that knows you like the back of his hand - ever changing, but still familiar at the end of the day. a new scar marring his knuckles? he’ll memorize what you like from that new café that opened down the block. a new nick on his wrist? he’s picking up that new movie you were gushing about wanting to see, a genre you wouldn’t necessarily choose usually - he’s ignoring how the main love interest looks like him. at the end of the day, some things never change, like how he’s memorized your smile and the way your nose scrunches

Roommate!Simon Riley that’s fallen into a comfortable pattern with you. your friends always say you act like a married couple, but you wave them off. so what if you guys are in the bathroom at the same time? you need to squeeze a shower in and Simon wanted to brush his teeth - besides, he can hand you a towel when you’re done. so what if you sleep in each other’s rooms? the damn AC is busted again, it’s not your fault Simon is as warm as a furnace and welcomes you with open arms

Roommate!Simon Riley whose favorite start to the morning is seeing you bleary eyed and groggy. your hair is messy, pillow lines across your cheek, and your t-shirt is askew - perfect. he doesn’t care if you have crud around your eyes, he doesn’t care if you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, he doesn’t care that you’re wearing his t-shirt— Simon pauses, eyes glued to you. his last name decorating your back… maybe Simon does care about you wearing his shirt

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.

[simonbrain]

simon riley who becomes even more smitten with his wife whenever she's angry at him. he doesn't know why, but seeing her scold him for something as simple as forgetting to put the toilet seat down or forgetting to grab a tub of ice cream just makes him grin. it makes him want to gently remind her who's in charge (at least in the bedroom; he knows how much power she has over him. he's weak to her).

all he has to do is cup her face and coo, "i'm sorry lovie, i'll do better." and suddenly she's not very mad anymore. if that doesn't work, he just pushes her against the nearest surface and eats her out until she's a babbling mess (he tried doing that in public one time; she waited until they got in the car to complain about that too).

her attitude rarely gets to him though. if anything, it just turns him on. although if she gets too mouthy, he'll just let her yap without saying anything, just staring down at her. that's when she knows she's in actual trouble.

after she mellows out and simon finishes having his fill of her, she'll get very shy and grumble at him for that dirty trick she falls for every time. "did i not do enough of a good job love? need another round?" she shuts up after that, turning her heated face away from simon's smug grin, the bastard.

[shark-ies]

feral.

bounty hunter ghost on his rare day around the ranch

[milyz]

Y'all love it when I yap :3 unfortunately, I'm too eepy and tired to yap soooo ONEE DAYYY

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 5: Back Together

A/N: I'm not dead!

Apologies for the loooooong wait and the shortness of this chapter. I've had a lot going on in my life between the writing of chapter 4 and now, which has left me with VERY little free time to actually sit down and write. I joined the military, went through bootcamp, got engaged, and am now getting ready to ship off to my first duty station. Not to mention all the little things in between with a crazy ex and insane family shit.

Anyways, with that out of the way, I give you chapter 5! Enjoy!

CW: mentions of injuries (nothing descriptive), language, mentions of killing

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Masterlist

Grizzly sighs, sitting up with a wince from where she lay on the floor. Sleep was impossible for her at this point. Between the dull buzz under her skin from the insanity of the last 24 hours and the aching of her injuries, she wasn’t able to wind down. Ghost had insisted she try to get some sleep while he took the first watch–jesus christ did that man ever sleep?–and she’d been unsuccessful thus far. 

Despite how worn out she felt from the injuries she’d sustained and the work her and Ghost had done to secure the safehouse, rest seemed damn near impossible while the worry of the fate of the rest of the team ate away at her brain.

She rises to her feet, bracing against the wall for a moment before moving towards the door where Ghost was. After laying down for so long, she had a profound limp, but Grizzly knew that the more she moved the sooner it would go away. At least that was the hope anyways. 

He obviously hears her, because she knew for a fact that no one came within a 50 mile radius of the behemoth without his knowledge. 

Despite that, he doesn’t make any move to acknowledge her. He just shifts slightly like he’s trying to get more comfortable, adjusting the grip he held on his rifle. Grizzly leans against the wall next to the doorframe, not wanting to sit down again because she doubted she’d be able to actually stand back up. 

“You should be sleeping,” the lieutenant tells her, his gruff voice breaking through the silence. “And keeping pressure off of that leg.”

Grizzly shrugs, looking blankly at the ceiling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Something unspoken transferred between them, and Ghost didn’t say anything further about it. There were nights where they’d been out in the field and had witnessed the restlessness that came from witnessing too many firefights and the like. She had her demons, and she could only imagine the things he was trying to process with the shit he’d been through. 

So, instead of tossing and turning all night long–unable to sleep, she had elected instead to get up and put her energy to use. 

“You can go rest,” Grizzly suggests to him, moving from near the doorway to standing next to him. “You’ve been up for hours already.”

Ghost doesn’t seem to agree with her reasoning, replying, “And so have you. Plus, you’re injured.”

She rolls her eyes. “Never stopped either of us before.”

They both fall silent again, noises from the woods around them permeating through the thin walls of the house. She remains standing beside him before the pain of standing becomes too much and she elects to sit down instead. She accepts the fact that now she would probably just stay in this same spot all night to avoid further aggravating her injury. 

‘It would’ve been better if you just didn’t move at all in that case,’ Grizzly thinks to herself before pushing the thought away. 

They sit in silence together, listening to a cricket somewhere in the house chirping away. It’s peaceful in the nighttime here despite the circumstances under which they arrived. It reminds her of before she joined the 141 when she was just a corpsman in the Navy being deployed with Marine Raiders. She can recall many a night in the field with her Marines that they would be camping out in their camp waiting for the next day when they’d go out in an assault. She’d be counting her supplies and checking over her medbag while her Marines joked and laughed amongst one another. More often than not, she’d end up joining in with little jabs of her own every now and then while she prepped. 

Part of her missed it, but she knew that at this point with her rank being what it was she would barely spend time actually in the field and mostly doing admin work. Since she was one of three enlisted on a team run by two officers, Grizzly was able to continue operating in the same arena as before. While the pay may not be the best or the ranking up wasn’t the greatest either, she still loved every moment of being able to go out every day for a new adventure. 

It was like a drug to her, inducing an adrenaline-laced high everytime her kit went on and they loaded up into the field. 

If it hadn’t been for Price finding her where she was stationed out in the desert of bum fuck only God knows where, she would’ve been stuck in an office doing stacks upon stacks of paperwork when she wasn’t handling the treatment of casualties coming into the camp. Thinking of Price further reminded her of the situation they were in. Grizzly finds herself wondering about the condition of her other teammates. 

Had they been captured? Were they just in hiding and waiting for a good time to make the journey to the safehouse? Had they contacted some sort of evac and were on their way to hers and Ghost’s location to get them the hell out of whatever kind of shitshow they’d all been forcefully rolled in?

She sits with her thoughts, not bothering to vocalize them since she has a feeling Ghost was likely doing the same albeit in a slightly more callous way. In a vain attempt to distract her train of thought away from worrying about the condition of her teammates, she starts to hum softly. It’s a country song she’d been listening to for days straight, not able to get enough of it. 

“Your mind is wandering, I take it.”

Grizzly’s attention is drawn to the lieutenant, taking a moment to process what he’d said before formulating a response. “Just a little. Nothing unusual for me.”

He makes a small hum in reply. “I’m very aware.”

“Speaking of wandering minds, you need to get some rest otherwise it’s going to be the both of us like that in the morning,” Grizzly tells him. “I know that I need to rest, but so do you. I’ve gone on missions in the past and functioned in much worse conditions than this.”

He doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching between them. It continues to carry on and on for several minutes before she’s convinced herself that he just won’t say anything back–<i>because of course she had to have a lieutenant like that</i>–when he actually acknowledges her request. 

He shifts so he can lay down somewhat comfortably. “Alright then, Grizzly. Trustin’ you to make sure we’re not both dead by the morning.”

“It already is morning LT,” Grizzly replies with a soft chuckle. “If my watch is anything to go by.”

She doesn’t have to look at him to know the man was likely rolling his eyes at her comment. 

“Wake me up if anything happens.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

00000

Several hours had gone by at this point, and Grizzly knew the sun was going to be rising soon. It was baffling to her how they had spent nearly 48 hours at this point in the same location when it should have been less than 12. It was all planned to be a get in and get the fuck out type of mission.

And yet.

There’s a rattling sound down the hall, which Grizzly assumes to be the fat raccoon they’d come across upon first arriving in the safehouse. She keeps listening for a few more moments, no longer hearing anything. Relaxing just enough to still remain vigilant but also so she could rest against the wall comfortably, she continues to mull over various thoughts in her brain. 

The rattling noise returns after a couple minutes, and with it come the soft whispers of a human voice.

Instantly, she’s on full alert with her rifle ready in her hands. Ghost is mere feet from where she’s sitting, so she kicks out one of her legs and jostles his chest. He wakes with little effort on her end. A brief thought questioning whether or not he had actually been sleeping all this time goes through her mind, but it’s shoved away in favor of worrying about what was going on right now. 

Albeit somewhat groggy from the look in his eyes, Ghost is already gearing up for a fight without her having to say anything. He rises to his feet and she follows suit–just at a slightly slower speed due to her injury. Heart beating in her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she posts up on the opposite side of the door frame than the lieutenant and waits for further orders.

“Wait.”

“Aye, sir.”

The door to enter the house creaks open down the hall and there’s a brief second where dread cuts through her belly. Just as soon as it comes it’s gone however. Grizzly locks in and readies herself for whatever is going to happen next, knowing that whoever just entered the safehouse may very well be there to kill the both of them. 

Footsteps. Three sets.

The very familiar sound of combat boots touching against the ground halts, leaving her with no clue as to where exactly the intruders were in the hallway. There’s a few beats of silence, leaving her to think something was about to happen, and then she hears a short whistle. A pause. Another short whistle. Another pause. Another short whistle. 

Ghost whistles back once, drawing it out slightly longer and it’s repeated back. 

Grizzly releases the breath she hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding in and is greeted with the unruly mohawk of her favorite Scot. Price and Gaz follow behind him. The hours of worry she’d been carrying for her teammates falls from her shoulders and the relief which comes with it is a welcome feeling. 

She doesn’t take long to relish in the emotion, knowing they all likely needed to be treated. Grizzly kneels by her pack, instructing the three other members of her team to sit and let her treat them. Despite each of them insisting there was nothing serious they were dealing with, she still conducts full head to toe exams as needed and treats what is seen fit. Price had fought her the hardest on it, but she had refused to listen and proceeded to treat a gunshot wound to his upper thigh. Upon finishing up with her treatment to them at a satisfactory level, Grizzly goes to assume her watch again. 

However Soap, the least injured of the three–which was immensely surprising to her–insisted on taking the watch instead. In pain and finally starting to feel exhaustion weighing down her bones, she doesn’t argue much and lays down in the back corner of the small room they were all posted up in. Within minutes, sleep claims her and welcomes its calming embrace with wide open arms. 

A/N: A big thank you to anyone who has stuck around to see the new release of this chapter after so long. Love ya'll!

[bi-writes]

mmmm i have these thoughts about being sorta kinda drunk and hanging out with simon. you're so touchy when you're tipsy, and you're giggly, and you're sitting on the couch next to him, hugging his big arm and pressing little kisses into his shoulder. he doesn't react much, just keeps his eyes trained on the tv as he sips his whiskey; he's so indifferent to your affection, but he never pushes you away, lets you kiss him and touch him and whine and coo, and he never tells you to go away or leave him alone.

you nuzzle your face against his masked cheek, kissing along the cotton fabric there. you're so warm from the alcohol, a little dizzy, and now you're babbling, but he doesn't seem annoyed.

"love you so much, simon," you whine, and he just pats your thigh gently.

"can't ever live without you," you coo, and he squeezes your knee in acknowledgement.

"i'd do anything for you," you whisper into his ear, and he just grunts, pushing his mask up as he takes another long sip of his drink, and you tilt your head to the side, watching him, your pretty, pretty man.

"would you do anything for me?" you ask softly, leaning in close. he licks his scarred lips, but he doesn't look at you yet. "w-would...would you kill for me, simon?"

and then he finally looks at you, dark eyes meeting yours, and you squeak when he wraps that big hand around your waist and tugs you against him.

he smirks, tilting his head to the side. "'v already killed for ya, luv," he says lowly, and this is simon, and simon doesn't lie, and you know by the look in his eyes he doesn't mean this happened at work, either.

suddenly, you feel sober. but his hand tightens, and it lowers, and you swallow when he grabs a handful of your ass and forces your mouth against his.

"now be a good girl. 'n sit down."

[malachitemischief101]

AAAAAAAAAAAA THIS IS SO CUTE STPP 😭😭😭😭

PLEASE MORE DADDY SIMON IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE AGGGHHGHHHGGHHHHHHHHH

he’s just so fuckin sweet and hot and hhhhhhgggg

simon really is so sweet and hot :((

i really really love the idea of how he’s truly more into the daddy kink thing than you are.

your slip-up only ever happens when he’s fucking you so, so good that your mind is splintering from your tethered control, leaving you rasping out whimpered moans—“daddy, daddy please!”

but simon loves bringing it out of the burning intimacy he shares with you; loves drawing it out with gentle beckoning.

“give daddy a kiss?” he asks, big hand curled around your wrist from where he’s tugged you close to where he’s sitting. you were left to hover by his front, leg brushing against his thigh.

“what?” you puff out, your voice tinged with surprise even amidst the sudden hunching of your shoulders. simon already knows—you heard him, alright.

“c’mere, love,” is what simon replies with instead, pulling you one more time and catching you with surety as you stumble on his lap.

a yelp slips from your lips, only for it to peter out, and simon wonders what it must be that you’re thinking.

do you think ill of him now that he’s gotten more clingy? more insistent?

he was always able to hold himself back, never pushing or asking more than what you give to him—every piece which he collects with reverence—but a spark had been lit in his heart and simon can no longer hold back.

he adores you. he adores the way you look at him, all starry-eyed and devoted, so shy even when you can’t shake away the honest need curling in the way you seek him out.

(“do you like it?” you asked, voice so meek that simon had to rely on his training to pick up the tremble of your voice.

”yes,” he replied, instant, eyes already crinkled in his smile. “thank you, petal. ‘m so proud of you.”

and there it was—the shy curl of your lips, the way your breath stuttered, your eyes ducking away as you let simon’s praise wash over you.

see? what a sweetheart you are.)

“please?” he asks again. “won’t you kiss me?”

simon suppresses the shiver that racks his body at the soft press of your lips on his—a sweet little peck, a ghosting caress.

so, so adorable.

[yooo-lets-go]

He can’t talk right now, he’s doing hot girl shit

[tacticalprincess]

simon and könig being unable to stop bickering for a second, even when they’re balls deep inside of you. they’ve got you in an Eiffel Tower, könig’s cock filling your glossy pussy while simon stuffs your mouth. it took ages of convincing for them to even consider this position, but eventually they decided to put their discrepancies aside for the sake of you, their precious, spoiled little thing. it didn’t last very long though…

“jackhammer much, mate? you’ve got her choking on me over here.” simon points out, his heavy hand stroking your hair soothingly. könig’s using your hips as leverage, bucking into you at a rabid pace, each of his thrusts lurching your body forward and forcing you to take more of simon’s dick down your poor throat. “what happened to treatin’ the princess with care?”

“it’s okay, she likes it. isn’t that right, maus?”

your cheeks warm up as you hum around simon’s dick noncommittally. nothing gets passed the l.t though, and suddenly he’s gripping you by your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock.

“wait, you let him fuck your face?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended.

you wipe the line of spit that trails from your swollen lips all the way to his still hard dick, hovering just out of reach. you huff. “he’s more sadistic than you…” you say sheepishly in response, voice staccato from könig’s thrusts.

“you tellin’ me i’m the soft sex guy? the aftercare fuck?”

“‘s alright, mate.” könig reaches over your naked body to pat his comrade on the shoulder. “youve got boyfriend dick. happens to the best of us.”