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I personally can’t get this thought out of my head. I went back to that one Badjhur audio (the sub Ghost one, something war games, i’m too lazy to check 🥲) and it’s been running in my head. HELP ME. 🙏🙏
I especially think about it if him acting cocky first, trying to seem like he has the upper hand. Oh, but no. One flipped movement and Simon is underneath you.
He still tries to keep his cool, but seeing you on top of him is doing things to his head. Things he doesn’t like. Simon’s always in control, always overpowers people, always dominant (ew i don’t like saying that i’m sorry 😭).
When you take control, his brain goes to mush. He keeps on trying to stay confident, trying to win back his place on top, but ends up staying below you. If you tease him, he practically cums right then.
I just like to imagine it this way;
“No touching, Simon.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. You’ve touched enough.”
“Since when?”
“Since now, Simon.”
“Oh, but baby-”
“Don’t make me gag you.”
“Damn, okay. Fine.”
He doesn’t like the idea of not being able to talk, so he just stays quiet, save the occasional quips and remarks.
Oh but when you start, it’s over for him.
The second he feels your tight, warm cunt around his cock, he’s biting back moans. He bites on one of his knuckles while the other hand goes to hesitantly grab your hip, silently pleading if it’s okay to touch.
“Go on, Si. You can touch.” you coo, starting to slowly bounce your hips. Simon moans softly, his head lulling back against the pillows while he lets his eyes drift shut.
As much as he wants to flip you over, put his hand on your throat and just absolutely ruin you, fuck you hard right into the mattress, he lets himself relax for the little times he gets to.
“Please, faster-…” he begs quietly, silently cursing himself for sounding so needy.
“Hm? What was that?”
“Faster…”
“Faster?”
“Yes, please…”
He hates the cocky grin on your face, wants to slap it off, but he can’t even think now with the way your hips bounce on his, grinding and rolling. He lets out muffled whimpers and moans, trying to cover them with groans or something, but anyone would’ve known that his coverups were horrible. Sounded like someone was getting choked.
Every time he tries to grab your hips to make you go faster, or how he wants, you stop and smack his hands away. “No touching unless I say.”
“But baby-!”
“Then I’ll get off.”
“No, no! ‘m sorry!” Simon pleads, bringing his hands up and instantly stops touching you. “Please, keep goin’… ‘m s’close…” he whines, his chest heaving as he looks at you. His brown eyes are glossed over, staring at the way your hips bounce and grind, completely in a trance.
He covers his mouth with one of his hands, whining into his palm as he practically drools, his eyes becoming heavy. “Please, let m’cum, swee’heart…” he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut before they look up at you.
“Hmm… not yet.” you reply, but knowing that Simon won’t disobey, you bounce your hips faster, enjoying the way his head lulls back and a loud moan falls from his lips.
“Please, baby! ‘m s’close!” he whines, his hands twitching and hovering over your hips. His eyes stare up at you, glossy with unshed tears. “I promise- I promise I’ll b’good… Please, I can’… I can’…” he whimpers, his eyes rolling back before squeezing them shut.
“Alright, Si. You can cum.” you coo, leaning down and crashing your lips onto his. His tongue instantly probes into your mouth, moaning into the kiss as his body tenses.
“Lemme touch… please…” he breathes against your lips, and the simple nod of your head was all he needed. Simon’s hands fly down, gripping your hips and holding you still, his hips bucking up quickly as he pants and groans into the kiss, moans and whimpers mixing in.
“Please, please cum wit’ me baby… please…” he begs, one hand splaying across your abdomen while his thumb goes to circle your clit. The added sensation causes a gasp from your throat, your body quivering. “I can’… please-!” he cries, his hips bucking up and grinding into your welcoming pussy before you could even finish.
His hot seed spills out, painting your walls white and leaking out onto your thighs, his moans and whines bouncing around the room. When Simon finally comes down from his high, he stares up at you in an almost drunken haze, his pupils blown wide as his eyelashes were wet with small tears.
“‘m sorry, baby…” he breathes when he realizes you didn’t get to cum, groaning softly at the smallest shift of your hips. “I’ll make it up t’ye, I swear it…” he says, slowly flopping over to hover above you. “I’ll b’gentle, aye..? Promise.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
a/n: sorry for my inactivity!! i was really busy, and i had a few family events!
Simon's the guy who is nonchalant and a no-nonsense attitude, he's the man who doesn't care and absolute zero fucks and that's until missus comes along.
Now Simon's running around the house, bickering how you shouldn't skip breakfast and he's absolutely frowning when you side your greenies before he's holding your jaw and spooning them in, “Now be a good girl for me, won't ya' cupcake.” is all he says, tapping twice under your chin.
He's fussing over you, tucking you in scarves and caps and buttoning your coat because it's cold outside, “Can't see my pretty girl sick.” is all he says, bumping your nose.
John practically snorted when Simon pulled out your sneakers from your purse that he has been carrying, because he knew you're gonna whine about your pointy heels later, “Dance all you like babygirl” is all he says, bending down and removing those evil heels, then massaging your red ankle before he's sliding in your sneakers.
Oh, and yes he's gonna burn the whole fucking world if it meant to keep you warm, because he fucking cares only about missus.
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thinking about reader who is on their period n simon who lives with them and ended up just following them around because they don't want to get up because of the cramps.
water? already on the nightstand, it's also warm so it won't make the cramps worse.
meds? some painkillers are ready just next to the glass of water.
food? just let him know when you want to eat. he'll even feed you.
no more tampon/pads? send him a picture of the packaging, he's already at the store getting some and grabbing some chocolate and snacks too on the way.
at first he gets annoyed because you would call him over every so often, especially when he's trying to chill. but seeing how you look so upset and pissed over the cramps and the way you're bleeding profusely, he decided to suck it up and make things at least more bearable for you because if not he's not going to hear the end of it.
has been made fun of by his mates when they were over for game night and you're having the blood fountain, because simon gets all obedient and would drop everything to attend to you.
"simon, need water..."
"'kay love," and he's getting up from the couch, beer forgotten somewhere and grabbing some warm water for you to drink. like an obedient dog following orders.
he's probably learned his lesson after you threw a tantrum when he ate your chocolate and he didn't come when you called him.
i cant stop thinking about running through a forest or something with the 141 and playing hide and seek tag with them.
i’d like to say that you and Soap team up (unless one of you are it), helping each other up in trees or running around together and giggling like little kids. Gaz occasionally tags along for a little bit before he eventually either gets caught, lost, or left behind. Price gets annoyed when he’s it and you two idiots are just giggling and running away. Ghost just doesn’t bother until he catches you both off guard.
when you’re it, Soap is the easiest to find since you know how he thinks; you both think the same since you help each other out. Gaz is second, Price being third and nine times out of ten, you all give up playing when it comes to finding Ghost. Man is literally going all out so he doesn’t get caught.
when Gaz is it, he almost always goes to try and find you and Soap first, just because he knows that it’s almost always impossible to. He gives up and goes to find Price, then he catches you. You give him hints on where Soap is, just giggling the whole time because you know damn well where he is. Ghost, you don’t even try.
Soap is the same as you. He goes to find you, knowing how you play and all the ways you think before you both team up again and find Price and Gaz. Gaz always throws a hissy fit because he’s found easily almost every time. Soap goes to try and find Ghost, but give up and call out end game and that Ghost wins. He always seems to teleport to where you are.
when Price is it, he’s pretty good at finding you and Soap, having gotten used to it. he first finds Gaz, then you and Soap, but again, gives up trying to find Ghost after like, fifteen minutes. he’s agitated when you and Soap taunt him in the trees, laughing like little kids when you climb in the trees. he doesn’t try to get you when your up.
when Ghost is it, it’s almost scary. it’s like getting chased around in a horror movie. First of all, this man is 6’4 (in my head) and is just huge in general, but is almost deathly silent when he’s “hunting”. He easily finds Gaz, then Price, and eventually catches Soap. You climb up a tree to try and get away, but Ghost is right up behind you faster than you got up the tree. he grabs your ankles, pulling you down and tossing you on the ground (not to hurt, of course) while he wins the game in under ten minutes, not even. everyone agrees it’s unfair and debates on not letting him be it, but he just wins for some reason and no one likes it.
It’s late at night in the barracks, the task force had almost lost you to a bullet wound embedded in your side, another hour without treatment and you would have been lost for good. You lie in your quarters, having been treated and given fluids that you needed to live, when suddenly you hear a heavy knocking at the metal door.
It’s Simon, his knuckles are bloody from hours using a punching bag without thinking, his mask halfway on his face to reveal him as a panting mess still sweaty with effort. With your permission, he cracks open the door halfway, just to stare out at you in the faint glow of the room.
“You can come in Si, I can’t see you like that.”
He shuts the door softly. Afraid to rouse you anymore from needed sleep. Once enveloped in the darkness you were using to rest, he is dragging himself over to you and leaning over your frame in a manner far too intense for you in such a state.
“Si? What’s wrong?”
As you reach your hand up to his masked jaw, he suddenly takes your wrist in a heavy grip and forces your hand on his cheek.
He says nothing yet, closing his eyes to the touch and letting his breathing slow as he reminds himself you are alive….he had lost himself in hours of training and needed to remind himself that the mission was not a total failure, you were alive.
He would prefer it if you punched him, let him know how foolish it was to let you slip away from him, let him know it was all his fault and—
Instead he settles for breathing you in, muttering that he’s glad you didn’t leave, but the muttering becomes more of a groan as you try to pull him to bed with you, mewling at your gentle touch.
He’d prefer not to be seen like this, but then why would he have come to your room, other than to fall into your embrace and remind himself he’s grounded.
As he lies with you, he tells himself that someday soon he’ll take the mask off, only for you. You’re the only one that can see him like this.
With that thought, he lets himself drift off with you.
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish who enjoys it when he fucks you in places that you could EASILY be caught in.
under the cut
Like, imagine it being late in the barracks, the walls paper thin, and he had you folded over on your back, your heels next to his head. He keeps taunting you as he plows his thick, fat cock into your tight, sweet little pussy. “Shh, bonnie… yer gon’ keep quiet, yea’? Not gon’ make a sound fer me…” he mumbles in your ear, biting down on your neck to keep himself quiet.
If you get too loud, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “‘S bad, hm? Too loud. Ev’ryone else ‘s already asleep. Let ‘em rest.” he huffs, his other hand going to wrap around your throat. He squeezes once, just to remind you that you’re below him, that he has all the power over you.
If he’s ever pent up during the day, he finds you and just drags you into a supply closet, growling out curses. “Fer fuck sake… ev’ryones feckin’ annoyin’ teday… jus’ need a quick taste o’ dis pussy, aye?”
He fumbles with the buckle of both your belts, pulling your cargos down just enough before he does the same for himself. He grabs the back of your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist while he lines up his throbbing cock head with your entrance. “Shh… be a good girl fer me n’stay quiet…” he growls in your ear, clamping a hand down on your mouth as he eases inside your gummy walls.
He takes a moment for you to adjust before starting off slow, but soon enough, he loses himself completely. He keeps you pinned under his weight, completely pressing you into the wall with his whole body. He’s rutting into you, grinding his hips and occasionally pulling out just to pound back in.
He’s letting out breathy groans and growls, sighing and panting like a dog in heat. He keeps his face buried in your neck, his jaw clenched tightly as he felt the coil tightening in his belly. “Fuckk, lass… perfect fuckin’ cunt y’got… so tight…” he moans out in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. One of his hands go down, gripping one of your hips tightly as he started ramming into you quickly, his breathing turning ragged.
While you whimper and whine, the sounds muffled against his hand, he pressed you further against the wall, his hand going to draw tight circles on your clit. Feeling your velvety walls tightening around him, he lets out a strangled whine, his hips stuttering as he finally released his sticky seed into your sweet pussy, soon feeling your spasming walls riding him on his release.
“Jesus, feckin’-.. Christ…” Soap grits out, pressing a kiss to your fluttering pulse before pulling out. He pulls his hand away from your mouth, wiping your drool off on his pants before pressing his lips to yours, his tongue parting your lips. He pulls back after a moment, looking down at your hazy eyes.
“Stop by my barracks t’night?” he huffs, grinning slightly. At your lazy nod, he presses a kiss to your forehead, zipping up your cargos and buckling your belt before fixing himself up. “When y’go back ou’ there, don’ look so fucked out. Don’ need feckin’ LT ‘r someone lookin’ at us weird.” he jested, opening the door and ushering you out before walking out himself, going the other way.
Soap has a praise kink, but not in a submissive sense.
Soap has always been the energetic, eager type. Since the minute he joined the football team at five years old, he lived for every goal he made, when his team and parents screamed and yelled for him on the sideline. He absolutely idolized his older brothers, joining the same sports and following in their footsteps, always on their heels like:
“Did ‘ya see that? See it? It was cool, right?”
Some might call him a push over, but he genuinely just wants to show off. Wants everyone to see that Johnny’s a part of the crowd, that he’s cool.
He struts around base like a prize stallion - purely because he thinks he is one. And you roll your eyes and laugh most of the time. If only you knew that it was your attention he was most desperate for. Your attention that he needed the most.
When you come around the sports yard on base, he always pushes himself twice as hard, damn near running the other men down just to score a goal.
“‘Ya see that, Bonnie? See it? Swear I did it just for you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
In the gym, he pushes himself past his PR every time you so much as spare him a glance. He pulls off his shirt, holds himself bigger, broader - like some sort of bastardized mating dance.
“Hit a new PR today, tryna bulk up my biceps, yeah? Think they look good, Bonnie, do ya? Might need to see ‘em up close before you can tell the difference.”
And at the end of the day, if you agree to let him take you for a night, you’ll never hear the end of it.
NSFW below cut.
Especially now that he knows he can get you just as down bad as he’s been the past few months...All it took was his tongue on your clit and his fingers in your soaking cunt for you to finally acquiesce: Johnny MacTavish really was all that.
He’d just been waiting for you to admit it.
“Go-od, Johnny, good—you’re so fucking good,” you sob, all but burying your face in the covers while he mounts you like some insatiable stud.
“Yeah? You like my cock, Bonnie?” He grunts, grabbing hurried handfuls of your ass in a move that’s so wolfish and immature you have half a mind to think he’ll spill inside of you right then and there, “Tell me how much you like it—fuck, say it, Bonnie.”
“You’re so big, John—so big. Fuckin’ me so good,” you mewl when his hips start to swing faster. Mindlessly, determinedly, “God, how do you even—Fuck, Soap, right there. Right there. Right there—oh god—“
“Bonnie—“ he growls, voice wobbling with something absolutely unhinged, “M’just that good. Wanted to be good for you—needed to be good for you…for this fucking cunt.”
He thrusts so hard both your cervix and ass will be bruised by the end of it. He’s falling apart at the seams, gripping your body like a vice, fucking into you so stupidly he’s nearly drooling just at the feeling of it. Any attempt to get out from under him now would be futile. No, he’s got you in his grips now. He’ll keep you screaming his praises until the words make him spill, until you understand well and good that no one could ever match him. No one.
“Say it. Say it. God, Bonnie, say it—“ he chants, all but pounding you into the mattress.
“So good for me, Johnny—” You scream, tearing the sheets apart with your nails, “The best I’ve ever had!! You’re—you’re the best—“
Needless to say, all it takes is one more slurred word of praise to have him filling you up. And as he watches it drip out of your cunt, evidence of just how well he’s fucked you, you can’t ever remember feeling so tired.
However, if you feel something hard rubbing up against your ass a few minutes later…well, you can’t find it in yourself to whine when he slides back inside of you.
After all, Johnny lived to please. And when he coaxes another pair of orgasms out of your poor, abused pussy, you finally come to understand exactly what he’d been trying to tell you this entire time:
There’s no one else like him on the face of this earth. No one.
Simon Riley fucking u in a meannn mating press ⋆₊˚⊹
His hips rock into yours at a brutal depth, knocking the wind straight out your lungs, along with soft whimpers.
You clawed at his biceps as his large, tatted ar wrapped tightly around your thighs, keeping your legs pressed to his front as your ankles and feet dangled by the side of his head.
His other hand was by your head as he leaned down, pressing your knees to your chest. It was mean — oh, it was so mean. He was so deep, fucking you until you had nothing left in you to give.
"You alrigh', dollface?" He cooed against your cheek, his nose nudging the skin there as you nodded quickly.
"D–Don't stop — please." You told him, your eyes still tightly closed as you focused on the way his hips rolled, making him hit that spot that was going to have you crumbling in no time.
"Yeah?" He smirked before kissing you deeply, swallowing the loud moans you gave into the kiss as his hips sped, chasing your climax and his own.
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Ghost: I cut my finger
Y/N: I can kiss it so it'll get better
Ghost: That works?
Y/N: Yeah my mum used to do it when I was little
*later*
Ghost: I need you to punch me in the mouth
Roach: Fucking finally
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
