thedivinevera

[thedivinevera]

simon who’s secretly a huge perv esp for you 😔 and the 141 knows it but wont dare say anything to him

mmmmm. perv!Simon who can't keep his eyes off of you during training, practically stripping you with the looks he gives you, desperately waiting his turn to spare with you, just to use the opportunity to 'accidantly' rub his fat cock against you.

perv!simon who creeps after you when you shower in the communal showers, watching you quietly to mske sure you dont notice

perv!Simon who sneaks into your barracks ans leaves little 'gifts' in your underwear, getting all worked up when he sees you wearing them

the others see the way he drools over you but they won't say anything, they can't. si would deny everything and get angry at them (and worst of all he'd stop sharing)

[thedivinevera]

Simon Riley is only a good 5.4 inches when flaccid that when you finally consummated your relationship with him, you couldn't help yourself but let out a big sigh of relief, that your assumption that this larger-than-life man will probably have a third limb between his legs was thrown out to the wind.

But of course you were wrong. So very wrong because what this motherfucker doesn't tell you is that he's a grower, a mutant. One second he's average and the next you are praying to all saints that would grant you mercy to spare you as you gag around the weapon he calls his cock (a whopping 7-incher! spoiler: he'll grow another inch and some cm because he is such a horndog for you).

can u tell my brain is rotting 🪰

Yes, I can, nonnie. Yes, I can.

The first time you saw him, you were so amazed that you cockblocked yourself.

I maintain that Simon is hairy, and most of it is concentrated below the belt, so when you finally see him in all his glory, it's like, "Oh, wow."

Hair everywhere. On his thighs and between his legs. The color of sand. And balls. Hairy balls. Heavy hairy nuts. Hefty, furry bollocks that you can't help but hold in the palm of your hand and try to bounce to Simon's... confusion? Amusement? Fuck if he knows. And then you went "D'aww ❤️" when you saw him flaccid and he doesn't know if he should be turned on that you find his dick adorable or... turned on that you find his dick adorable.

But then he gets hard. And what used to be Little Lt. Riley is now resting on your stomach and holy fucking shit, he's a grower.

Simon senses your trepidation. "Luv?"

"You didn't tell me you had a third leg!" And Simon wants to crack a joke and almost does until you begin to play with his cock. You lift it up by the head, let it drop, it goes plop, rinse, and repeat. He didn't think he was that big but thanks for the compliment. He thinks.

But you're still so surprised by Big Dick Riley that sexytimes doesn't even happen anymore because you're too busy playing with and studying Simon's third leg.

And Simon's ass is so crazy in love and lust that he let you lmao.

[thedivinevera]

being called simon's work wife by johnny is all fun and games til you start spotting the man you've never formally met in the corner of your eye.

imagine being told by a pig-headed superior to make yourself useful and go get him some coffee only to immediately start apologizing, words spilling out of his pathetic mouth like water because your johnny-proclaimed husband's looming right behind you in guard dog mode.

you mumble out a thank you, even though you're not sure what for and he just tugs your name tag.

no one talks to my wife like that.

(forget about trying to clarify that it's work wife, he's got selective hearing.)

i think it's cute til it's not. til you're at a bar, drunk, and he shows up and takes you home. you wake up in a bed that smells of gunpowder and carbolic soap, in a shirt 3x your size and a pair of oversized sweats. when you check your phone, your friend's text reads, your husband is a scary man.

(there's a fucking ring on your finger, too.)

[thedivinevera]

dude but like simon having his favorite onlyfans creator as his wallpaper on that rugged phone of his. sends you money just to talk to you because you won't respond otherwise. (girl's gotta eat and pay for tuition, y'know? nothing personal.)

waits on bated breath for you to come online, for you to post an update, anything. he'll feel his phone vibrate during a mission and quickly pulls it out just to check if it's a notification of you. if it's not, he sinks his blade into the necks of his opposition a little too brutally.

he thinks you are an angel. certainly look it with that soft, round face, thick thighs, and pretty cunt.

oh, how he would kill (actually. seriously. he means it. he can get away with it, guaranteed) to get just a whiff of your perfume, the tiniest feel of the smooth skin of your calves, or your thick locks tangled around his fingers (and a few strands stuck in his calluses). he has a thing for your ankles too. just something so delicate and cute, something he could easily snap without really even trying has all the blood in his head go south. has plenty of (socked) feet screenshots because your ankles in those crew socks of yours from PINK look divine.

he doesn't hide you either. there isn't no turning his body and covering his phone or anything. well maybe, but that's when he's watching one of your videos. in his head, those videos are what you sent only for him.

he'll check your feed in broad daylight. will sit waiting for debrief with your page pulled up and his phone on max brightness. johnnys caught him biting his knuckles a few times in defac too while hunched over the table.

and then he's over the fucking moon when he sends you a massive tip (that's what she said) and you say his username with those shapely lips and pink tongue.

trembling. drooling. howling. simon has never been more elated in his entire life than right now, as you call him one of your top supporters ON VIDEO.

simon wanks so hard that night he chafes and he couldn't give a fuck less. he's on top of the world baby!

(i need him to beg for one night with you for a ridiculous amount of money)

[thedivinevera]

there's a retired/old DS i watch on YT and he uses the phrase "If the military wanted you to have a wife, they would've assigned you one."

what if they do?

it's some new program implemented for whatever reason and you think it's one of the worst fucking ideas until your friend tells you that one gets paid a massive sum once the marriage is finalized, and you can divorce within the year no strings attached.

you'd expected a regular man with like 2 years left in his contract, not some spec ops mask wearing freak who calls you his wife within seconds of meeting you for the first time ever and mumbles something about his kids needing to be raised in england and--

?

kids?

[thedivinevera]

warning: Sex pollen :), noncon/dubcon, some of them are mean on this one, horny desperate men going insane for your hole, not proofread 😭

Jus' over here havin thoughts about sex pollen infecting your favorite boy man

Finding yourself in the middle of a botched mission, you desperately try to open the door that separates you from your lover. You can hear him hacking, n coughing on the other side. N'd your sweet soul's nearly crying at the thought of what's happening to him. Is he dying !? Pink gas escapes from under the door and you don't even have the time to react before it suddenly opens.

Captain John Price who tries keep some of his composure. You must commend him for it, really. But you turn around to see if the coast's still clear and that's all it takes for his composure to break. Before you knew it you're being lifted into the air. Back pressed tightly against your Captain's chest while he holds you up with the back if your knees. He's got you in a full nelson :( And all of a sudden there's a knife in his hands. You cry out at the thought of what he could do to you but you're silenced the moment he uses it to rip an opening through your trousers, all the while he's rutting against your ass, cause he's just so pent up. Oh, you have to understand!

His dick is inside of you the moment it's freed. Tries to be considerate about it, gives you a few seconds to adjust before he's drilling into you with wild abandon. Fucks you so deep, there's a bulge in your tummy and spots in your vision. Sinks to the floor with you the moment he cums, holding you close to his chest and trying to come up with a decent enough explanation.

Simon "Ghost" Riley who let's out a loud grunt before falling on top of you. The impact makes your head spin, and it momentarily knocks the wind out of your lungs. His body crushes yours beneath the concrete floor and you don't have time to recover before the feeling of phantom hands start to roam your body. And you can no longer blame it on your fall, because your trousers are being ripped away by rough gloved hands.

Poor, little, you can't even object when he wrestles you into a mating press :( Shoving two of his thick digits inside of you with no warning. He's moving them in a scissoring motion, and you cant help but cry at the dry, and painful insertion. He's so mean!

"Shhh, puppy... 'I need this..." Doesn't even say please! Doesn't even give you a warning before the mushroom tip of his cock is breaching past your entrance. It's definitely way thicker than his fingers, and a lot more harder to get used to. He uses your bunched up knees as leverage to fuck you deeper, n deeper till your pretty eyes roll to the back of your skull.

He sounds like an animal when he cums. Growling pure filth to your ear while he grinds his dick inside you. Ready for a round 2?

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish who doesn't even wait. He was already hard as a fucking rock, hearing your cute voice cry out for him on the other side of the door. But now that it's opened, the only thing in his mind is dicking you down till your addicted to his cock.

Very impatient. You're literally like a ragdoll to him and he jus' manhandles you so you're face down, ass up :(

Shoves his fingers in your mouth while pulling your trousers down. He eats you out like a man starved. Like this was going to be his first, and last meal. Not a moment later and he's bullying your hole with his fat cock. Babbling nonsense about how fucking tight you are and how he's "waited to do this for so long". But he cums, and he cums deep.

The definition of painting your insides white.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who looks like he's in so much pain. Unlike the other boys he tells you not to get close. He's not right in the head, can't you see that?? But you're sweet. Too sweet, and he wonders if you taste just the same. He's wetting his lips before knows it. He feels terrible. Eye fucking you while you're just trying to get him to talk about what's happening. Is he ok? He's not dying, is he? Tell me where it hurts, please.

You fret over him, and he's never felt such embarrassment in his life before. He feels bad, looking down at the massive tent in his pants. But he feels worse when he's pushing you against the wall. He's tried to hold back. Really, he did. But there's just so much a man like him can take in a situation like this. And he's trying to whisper apologies to you while he hasn't fully lost himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just please....Fffuck–let me fuck you. Please..."

He's so desperate n'd whiney. As if he's not making your thighs shake and your brain into goo. He's fucking your mouth with his tongue, sturdy hands grabbing hold of your legs and wrapping them around his firm waist.

It's all too much. You're brain moving slower than your mouth can say "slow down". In a second he's got your trousers to the side, and his pants bunched up on his knees. He's shaking so much you're worried he might topple over. But he doesn't. Instead he slams his hips directly into yours. Your mouth opening in a silent scream.

He cums the moment he gets his dick in you. He's just so sensitive, ok :( And he doesn't stop at just one round, not even two. Three and his cum's leaking out of you, staining the floor and both of your thighs. Still moving his hips like a man possessed. Four, you're nearly passed out. And there's a slight bump in your stomach from where you're sure his cock, and cum is.

Head lying limp on your shoulder, you wonder how many times you've cummed already, or if this was even going to end. He smiles at you, so brightly he looks like your Kyle again. But he's kissing the side of your mouth before biting at your lips.

"Jus one more. Jus' one more, I promise..."

a/n: I literally don't know what bought this on. Are the parts where I lost motivation obvious? Yes? Ok. Fuck Some characters parts are longer than others I'm so sorry 😭 This has been rotting in my drafts for about 2 days. Hope you enjoy this more than I do 😞. Eat up, my loves!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[thedivinevera]

Hi!! Hope your doing well 🫶🏽🫶🏽 idk if you write for him but if you do I was wondering if I could possibly request Philip graves x plushie obsessed reader?? Cant stop thinking about you showing them all off to him and having this gruff military guy sleeping in the same bed that’s surrounded by all your fluffy friends (can’t also stop thinking about him teasing you as he fucks you stupid on that same bed, whispering in your ear how dirty you were acting in front of the things you cared about so much)

I’m so normal about him

thanks for ur req nonnie!

graves isn’t ashamed at all, he fucking thrives when he’s laying in your bed with his face shoved in your collection of teddies while you massage his sore, aching back—humming contently beneath his soft grumbles and growls, basking in your calmness..

let’s you sit and tell him about each, individual animal. not even listening at this stage, just smiling to himself as he listens your rants and raves, making him hold them all in the expanse of his lap, assuring they didnt fall over.

‘which ones this one, darlin’?’

‘that’s sid,he has the little bow on his chest!’

‘sid? silly name, baby.’

you have so many blackmail photos of him, sitting there with his arms wrapped around you and a few of your teddies; or ones of him dressing them up and playing with you.. holding a custom made buildabear he got you for your birthday, so sweet n’ considerate..

seeing you face down, face buried into the stomach of your teddy with his cock ramming in and out of your stretched hole gets him so fucking worked up—drooling and dribbling all over your chin, gasping and moaning.

‘that’s it, sugar.. thas’ it..’

‘phil-hmh, i’m gonna fucking cum—‘

‘i know y’are, can feel you tightening’ round me..’

tired after work? he sits on the edge of your bed and strokes himself, watching you hump the plushie with desperation—sniffling and hiccuping with pleasure, tears trickling from the corner of your eyes, lashes batting, clit rubbing against the furry fabric..thighs trembling.

cuts a hole in the bottom of your favourite teddy, makes you watch him shove himself inside it and fuck it along his cock,,laying back and groaning as he spurts strings of cum atop it.

[thedivinevera]

Cook!reader x 141 Masterlist

tags: f!reader, suggestive in some bits, excessive swearing, inaccurate scenarios in regards to base regulations and policies and kitchen policies. this is all fiction (aka I'm making it up as we go)

First Day

Summer Feast

Allowance

Coming Home

Catastrophe

Keegan

What a Rush

Overtime

Paul

Paintball

King

Amends (side fics)

Soap

Gaz

Price

Ghost

[thedivinevera]

under no circumstances did your simon want anyone from work knowing you existed.

far as the 141 (or anyone vaguely military) were concerned, simon was single.

when johnny tried to play matchmaker, he just assumed simon was guarded. when gaz harped on about this girl from his gym, he just assumed she wasn’t his type.

the boys lived with illusions of simon returning to an empty, sterile, sad excuse for a home. hardly a home, probably a shoebox of an apartment with the bare basics of furniture.

maybe a rhythmic drip of a faucet to keep him company.

never even an inkling of an idea that he might be coming home to you.

you who kept the home clean, but lived in- warm and loved in. soft things at every corner, soft bed you both slept in, soft couch for him to hold you on. doesn’t smell sterile, smells nice, smells like-

well, you.

it wasn’t shame, embarrassment- if he could, he’d tell any poor sod who’d listen just how much he adored you.

simon thought himself the luckiest fucker alive for even knowing you, let alone loving you. he’d die a thousand lonely times if he did anything to lose you.

safety.

“this job doesn’t lend itself to lovers” price’s voice had rung loud in his head.

he knew his captain was right, he trusted his word more than he trusted his own mind. but his captain hadn’t met you yet.

he hadn’t seen that look you could give him, fluttering lashes and a hazy smile. he hadn’t felt the way you held him, when the days were long and his actions were unforgivable.

he didn’t know that you’d forgive every terrible thing simon had ever done, without a second thought.

you weren’t just a lover, you were the start and end of it all. his big bang.

nobody was ever supposed to know you existed.

simon had been so careful, so fucking careful- he’d suffered days and nights keeping your existence secret. it still wasn’t enough.

it wasn’t johnny’s fault, he didn’t blame johnny but that was one person who knew you in the greater context of “ghost.”

one too many.

“d’ya know L.T’s got a pretty thing at home?”

gaz had laughed, laying another card on the table as he did it.

“and who’d that be? her majesty the queen?”

price even snorted a chuckle out his nose, surveying the hand he was sure to play.

“wouldn’t give me a name, all he’d give me w’sweetheart”

“simon’s got a sweetheart named sweetheart? yeah, and i’ve got a chance at beating the captain”

sweetheart.

security measure two, when the first fails. no names, an alias that was easy to remember. no slip ups.

thankfully, everyone thought johnny had been chatting shit (as he often did) and didn’t care to push further.

but rumours only grow.

simon felt like he was living his life checking around corners. he was used to it at work, but when he was home he was meant to be free.

he couldn’t breathe knowing you could be compromised- that there was a chance he could lose you when he feels like he only just found you.

and when you were finally compromised? hell hath no fury.

there was only one option, they wouldn’t stop hunting you. they knew you were the only thing simon was scared to lose. to him, there was no other way.

price’s hands might’ve shook as he placed the folded flag in your hands, royal blue and silken. returning his mask to its rightful home, skull plate staring back at you.

where his eyes should be.

“if there is anything we can do”

all you could do was a blank stare right through him- show no emotion, show no fear. simon’s words were banging around your head.

that unmistakable feeling of eyes on your back as you retreated, carrying what was left of “ghost” back to your home. to your bed, military corners still tucked perfectly.

gently laying the flag to rest, running the mask through your fingers. what could a ghost really feel like?

bringing it to your lips, pressing a sweet kiss to its centre- where you usually might, before you’d send him off to fight for his country, always assuming he’d come home.

he’d been so careful, it wasn’t enough, everything had changed.

he had to change.

he let you pull the mask over his face, tracing the shape of the skull under a gentle finger tip. standing on your toes to press a kiss-

right between the eyes.

“something isn’t right, he kept this secret damn near the whole time we knew him- he dies and suddenly it all falls in our laps?”

gaz and johnny tailing price as he tore through the base, your file tucked under his arm. thin wee thing that it was, barely enough to piece together an idea.

might as well be chasing ghosts.

“simon sacrificed his life to keep that one safe, why the fuck would he let the details out? when he’s not alive to protect-“

the door was nearly off its hinges with the three men bursting through, putting the fear right through the wee thing at the desk.

“where are simon riley’s ashes?”

“oh, i’m sorry- they’ve already been claimed”

“who? by who?”

whilst the poor girl was gingerly sliding the record towards price, johnny was letting himself into the back room. a space that’d once contained simon’s urn, empty spare the twisted plastic full of fine grey dust.

“cap’n, you’re gonna’ want t’see this”

gaz was nearly vaulting the counter, snatching the ashes out of johnny’s trembling hand.

men with precision aim reduced to a murmur.

“who the fuck did we cremate?”

both men looking to their captain for- for what? help? a fucking clue as to what they’ve really got themselves into?

no use.

price was running a finger down the log book, settling on the name “simon ‘ghost’ riley.” signed out within the hour, only thing left being some poor fucker’s ashes and a set of initials.

signed out by S.H

S.H

sweetheart.

[thedivinevera]

Price: Where did you get that bruise? Simon: *flashback to walking into a wall while looking at pictures of Y/N* Simon: I'm in a gang, Captain

[thedivinevera]

I’m petty. (Not to take light of suicide but-)

What if he finds her in that bathtub after going to the motel with some *female dog* then? And she fights him when he tries to intervene. No! She wants HER Simon! She want’s to see him again, Let GO!

TW: attempt of suicide but nothing happens.

His fingers have deep lacerations from where he grabbed onto the blade itself because your hand wouldn't let go of the handle.

Simon's blood dripped onto your own skin, splatters of vibrant red as you thrashed against him.

"Let it go, let it go! You want me gone so badly, then let me go! I'll be out of your fucking life for good!"

He holds you tightly the entire time, letting you exhaust all of your energy until you give in. Your muscles burn, your breath comes in rapid pants, and the tears in your eyes have nothing to do with how hard you let your head slam against the tub in defeat.

"I just want out," you croak out.

"I want my Simon, not you, coming in here acting like you give a damn. If you feel anything for me, please. I beg you."

Through sobs, you tell him to let you find peace. His unmasked face is the last thing you see before succumbing to your exhaustion.

You wonder if you imagined him looking so tormented.

[thedivinevera]

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?��

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

[thedivinevera]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

[thedivinevera]

*Task Force 141 wrapping up work with Graves and the Shadows again*

Graves: *flirting heavily with Y/N* This was fun, I’m sure I’ll see you again.

Y/N: *Muttering* If our bad luck holds out but please hold your breath.

Graves: What?

Y/N: *mocking* What?

Price: Y/N, we’re moving out!

Y/N: Saved by the fucking bell 😤

Soap: Do we have to go right this second? I want to see how this plays out.

Ghost: He’s living on borrowed time anyways.

Price: Enough, don’t encourage her.

Y/N: I was only gonna stab him a little bit…

Gaz: I know you would…. You funky little psychopath.

Y/N: See, Gaz gets me!

-_-_-_-_-

Sorry if this one sucks, I’ve had a mental block the past couple of days.

[thedivinevera]

[Rambling Something in Few Sentences - Angst version]

TF141*Reader, I promise there will be a fluff version I promise. I know I love to make these men suffer esp Simon Riley I just can’t help 😖

Price

“May I have the pleasure to dance with you, Love?”

“Of course, John.” He watched your glistening eyes contained endless love for him.

...

“May I have the pleasure to dance with you, love?”

“...”

He watches your photo, lights up a cigar, starts the music on his player, and sways to the music alone in the house that used to ring with your laughter.

Soap

“Stop drawing me, Johnny, you already have tons of sketches of me, draw something else!”

“Journal is for the beautiful things, aye? how can I not draw when the prettiest lass is beside me?”

...

“Why I never see you draw people? Soap?”

“Because the most beautiful person doesn’t exist now, there’s no meaning to draw people anymore.”

Gaz

“Hey babe, time to get up for breakfast!” He yelled from the dining room, only to hear your hoarse and languid voice coming from the bedroom.

“ten more... minutes... come wake me up... “ He smiled to your response, and took a look at the clock, reminding himself to go find you later.

...

“Babe, time for breakfast!”

“...”

“Shit” He stares at the breakfast for two people placing on the table, curses under his breath.

“always remembered to wake you up 10 minutes later, always forget you aren’t here anymore.”

Ghost

“Talking to a doll is fucking stupid.”

“Hey, it’s a daily ritual for good luck, okay?” He stood there, huffed out a laugh when you gave the shark plushie a kiss. “Bye sharkie, wish me luck, We’ll be home soon!”

...

“Hi, sharkie.” He wakes up when the sunlight pours into the room, and what he sees first is the shark plushie lying beside him.

Brushing his teeth, brewing a morning tea for himself, he comes back to the bedroom one more time before he leaves the house.

“Bye sharkie, wish me luck, I’ll be back soon, yeah?”

The necklace you used to wear after he gifted to you now is secured around the shark’s body, reflecting the sunlight and shining when he speaks softly to it, as if answering him for the sharkie, and you.

[thedivinevera]

Barefoot and…

Okay but hear me out…

141 x reader

You all are just hanging out, having drinks after a successful, but fucking difficult, mission.

Battered and bruised and exhausted, someone jokes about how much easier it’d have been to just have a normal job.

You pipe up that Price would still be a captain but as a firefighter not military.

Gaz claiming he’d probably do something along the same lines, maybe a paramedic? You agreed, nodding, “If I was in an accident and I saw you coming to save me, I’d feel protected. You have a comforting face.” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, flustered by your words.

With a cheeky grin and a wink in your direction, Soap states he couldn’t let his “figure go to waste, might pick up erotic dancin’, aye?” Before adding on a more serious note, he could be a physical therapist.

Ghost - after he himself decided it was stupid to fantasize about such things - you all agreed he’d probably own a shop of some kind. A tie between staying as a butcher, or becoming a mechanic.

“Well?” Price breaking the silence, eyebrows raised.

All eyes turned to you, waiting on your response. You swallowed realizing you didn’t really have a very good answer. Or, at least, no answer the men wouldn’t be make fun of you endlessly for.

“I’m not sure…” heat creeping into your cheeks.

“Bullshit. What, you wanna dance with Soap, or somethin’?” Gaz laughs, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, no. You know I have no rhythm,” laughing with him, before finishing, “Well… I guess, if I could do anything, I’d do nothing.” You shrug, hoping that would satisfy your team.

The silence stretches for one beat, two, three…

Realizing they aren’t going to drop it, you down the rest of your drink, before filling it again. With the liquid courage still burning, you clear your throat.

“I mean, not like nothing nothing. But I’ve always like the idea of being a stay at home mom. Home making, y’know? Waiting for my man to come home, so I could take his boots off by the door. Cleaning, cooking. ‘Pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen’ type deal,” You end with a laugh, hoping they won’t notice you were only half joking about the last part.

Once again the quiet thickens. You swirl your drink in your hands, avoiding eye contact. You wait for the teasing, the taunts. They don’t come.

While you’re busy feeling embarrassed, the four men are excited, sick bastards. Each one imagining themselves as the one to give you that life - filling you with their babies, making sure you’re cared for, providing for you and their family.

You look up, they’re all staring at you. Soap and Price looking a little red in the face, Gaz has a slightly intimidating gleam in his eyes, Simon breathing just a little heavier than usual. Their reactions confuse you to no end.

Another weak laugh escapes you, “Um… I know that’s dumb. Just a silly dream left over from when I was a little girl. But it won’t ever happen, so I should just forget it…” you set your drink down, wiping the condensation off on your jeans as you stand.

The men watch you leave, still speechless, until Ghost speaks up.

“We need to make that happen.”

[thedivinevera]

The've told the truth