hi! you can call me ram. welcome to my little corner of the internet <3
she/her | 20 | U.S. | masterlist: under construction
what i write: fluff, smut, angst for any Call of Duty character!
what i don't write: hard kinks, intense violence or gore (im happy to answer any questions you have in the inbox!)
other than writing, my hobbies/interests include camping, history, reading pretty much anything, and collecting fun earrings!!
i am new to the writing scene, so bear with me as i figure out what works best for me! please don't hesitate to drop by my inbox for any questions, requests, or just to say hi!
note: this blog is 18+! i write and reblog nsfw content, so minors do not interact!! thank you for respecting my boundaries.
banners done by @cafekitsune
Captain John Price x Reader
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳. cw: dub-con (oral), breathplay, oral (male receiving), Price is mean, claustrophobia, ejeculation, gender neutral
*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ
John Price was never a good man. He knew it was wrong to prey on someone younger than him, especially in a time of crisis, panic, and fear. But you just wouldn't shut your stupid fuckin' mouth, the enemy was getting closer and he was getting more frustrated with your panicked breathing and all that shuffling around.
The Captain never intended for the mission to get this out of hand, this fucked up, but the Task Force's informant had been wrong about the number of enemies in the building. The team had been compromised, split off into different directions when the mercenaries swarmed their position, tracking them like bloodhounds. Price, like the caring captain he was, had to drag you into a narrow hallway, giving you a rough shove in the back to keep up.
He wasn't even sure why Laswell insisted on bringing you along. Your inexperience glimmered through your facade of confidence with every movement you made, John's old eyes could pick up on it, watching you shake like a leaf in a hurricane when you made your first kill, spilled the first drops of blood onto the floor. Now you were practically pissing yourself when he shove you into a tiny storage closet, pushing you down roughly to your knees before barring the door shut.
It was too hot, stuffy air clouding your lungs and brain, your panicked breaths sucking in more oxygen then needed as if you were going to asphyxiate and die. And price was getting so fucking fed up with you, already having to snarl at you to shut your goddamn mouth, soldier! several times. He thinks about killing you, he honestly does, but that would be a painfully meticulous report to write, and he doesn't want to be dishonorably discharged, that would affect his pension.
Instead his fiddles with the buckle of his belt, the metal clinking together in the dark closet before rough shoving his tactical pants down, freeing his overly thick, veiny cock. A pearl of precum already beads up at the slit, the head an angry red, his blood pumping hot with anger and adrenaline, fueled by your stupidity.
You don't even get the chance to promise to be quiet before price is pushing his cock past your lips, burying himself deep into the back of your throat to finally muffle your hyperventilating. You couldn't help but gag around the girth of his cock, Price's hand already gripping on to the back of your head to keep you in place, even when you try and reflexively pull away. His eyes say everything, boring down into your own, a silent command to stay still, to take your punishment like a good soldier.
Your senses are overstimulated, breathing in the musky scent of Price, your nose pressed against the thick thatch of hairs at the base of his cock, lungs burning for oxygen, your eyes growing red as tears spill over your waterline, your fingernails clawing at the fabric of his pants. Price really wants to kill you, but he doesn't, pulling your mouth off his cock at the last second before your brain goes all fuzzy and stupid.
That first breath of air was like euphoria, returning life back to your blood cells, a tingling sensation creeping up your spine like a wildfire. Drool dripped from your chin, combined with the mix of tears and your captain's precum, creating a sticky mess of fluids on your chest. The reprieve was short when you heard footsteps down the hallway, prompting price to bully his cock down your tight throat again, the muscles massaging and squeezing his cock so deliciously, it almost made him forget about your idiotic behaviour.
You swear you could feel him throbbing, the heavy veins on the underside of his cock pulsing with life inside your mouth, a low groan escaping him when your tongue laves over it. The heavy hand onto back of your head holds you there until stars begin to form in the corners of your eyes. Hearing the footsteps pass, price roughly thrusts into your mouth, the sounds of wet schlicks, gagging, and gruff moans bounce off the walls of the closet.
"Settle down kid, your squirming too fuckin' much for your own good." He huffs angrily, using your throat to get off before his hips stutter, one, twice, before forcing you to take it all, his heavy and full balls pressing against you chin while he floods your throat with his thick, hot cum, warming you from the inside out. John doesn't hang around for the afterglow of his orgasm, roughly shoving you off him while he tucks his cock back into his pants. Your regular, gruff and cold captain returns, hauling you up by your vest and shoving you out of the storage closet.
Every immoral action he took was for the greater good, a means to and end. Hopefully your oxygen deprived brain and sore throat could understand that.
So funny to imagine being soap’s super insecure girlfriend. You’re constantly like “does this look okay on me? Or do I look weird and dumb?” Meanwhile he’s become the world’s #1 ice cold shower taker and there’s drool stains left on his pillow from all the times he’s been able to get himself off just from watching you sleep
this blog is officially becoming a multi-fandom blog because i have too many brainworms from every new game i play to keep them in my head. so get ready to be sick of me
I imagine Simon after a divorce because his first wife wasn't a fan of sex and was a corporate woman who didn't even spare to help him, so he divorces her for all the good reasons, mutual.
Then he finds a sweet bird at the bar, who's obviously so drunk she doesn't even realise she's hitting on him (she is doing that intentionally) and he's telling her off he's not into younger people, but you're so persistent, pushing yourself closer to him, your chest pressed against his tattooed arms, hands around his biceps.
Simon's not an idiot, he knows what you're doing. So he lets himself have the treat and makes you realise that it maybe was a bad idea.
And he fucks you in his truck, making you bounce on his thick girth as he holds your hips, urging you to do more but you're so obviously fucked out that you can barely make out anything around you.
That just few fucking rounds in there.
He takes you back home, fucks you good., a proper brat taming and rough play. God his arm wrapped around you neck as he fucks you so good, your pussy clenching around him.
That night Simon Riley had a good fuck for the first time in eight fucking years.
It wasn’t the blinding rays of sun that peaked through the curtains that woke you from sleep, but rather the soft, feather light sensation of lips upon your cheek. You let out a low groan as your weary, heavy body slowly roused. Your eyes blinked open, trying to shake the drowsiness away.
Quickly you realized that the large and defined figure of your lover was wrapped around you, holding tightly to you. As you focused on the world, you were greeted with the lovely sight of a sleepy Kyle smiling lazily down at you.
“Mornin’,” he greeted, his words tinged with morning voice.
You returned his smile, blinking slowly at him. “Good morning,” you mused before yawning. This earned you another kiss on the cheek. Then one on your nose. Another on your forehead. You giggled in response.
“You’re cute,” Kyle teased, his alluring dark brown eyes taking the moment to admire you in all your wonderful beauty. In the glow of morning light, sleep still clinging to your bones, showered in the serenity he so desperately fought for. Seeing you as you are, he remembers exactly why he carries a gun and burden. Your happiness, your love, your smile. He fights for you.
You lean up and place a gentle kiss on his lips. “You’re handsome,” you shoot back with a sluggish grin. Then you tucked your head into his chest and closed your eyes. “We don’t have any plans today, right?” You asked, knowing the answer but seeking to subtly indicate exactly what you wanted.
“Don’t think so, sweetheart,” Kyle responded with a steady hum. He gently placed his chin upon the top of your head and closed his own eyes.
“Good,” you stated. “I think we deserve a lazy day,” you told him. This earned a sigh of contentment from your boyfriend.
“I believe that can be arranged,” he chuckled. Then his arms tightened a little more around you, his legs shifting to tangle with yours even more intricately. Silence fell over you two, aside from the soft breaths you let out.
For a moment, you simply basked in the existence of each other. The warmth that you two shared between your bodies, the love that was expressed in the gentle ways you clung to one another. There was a peace that existed here. No one else existed besides the two of you, not when your arms were wrapped around one another. It was in this that every hardship, every struggle, every pain that you went through became worth it.
You two got to be together, happy and content.
Eventually, you let out a deep sigh and opened your eyes. You then shifted to look up at Kyle again, taking in the beautiful sight of the absolutely stunning man you were utterly devoted to.
No words needed to be spoken as Kyle opened his eyes to look at you in return. Then, slowly, you two brought your lips together. It wasn’t a passionate or strenuous kiss. It was lazy, neither of you having the energy to get heated. Instead, it was simple, gentle. Your lips moved together with no real intention besides to physically express your admiration.
Eventually, Kyle pulled away to look at you again. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” you replied without a moment of hesitation.
There was a moment where you two just stared, taking in the sight of each other. Then Kyle spoke. “Your breath smells by the way.”
Fat people are allowed to exist in public. Fat people are allowed to go to pools and ride bikes and go on hikes. Fat people are allowed to go to the gym. Fat people are allowed to go to restaurants and museums and zoos. Fat people are allowed to wear whatever they want and eat whatever they want.
And if you have people in your life who believe otherwise, who try to make people feel shamed or unwelcome for the perceived crime of being fat in public, then shut that shit down.
This also goes for fat people you may not personally like! The way that people take photos of fat people just existing, because they're white and wearing cheap clothes and naybe they're at Disney World so obviously they're bigots and deserving of mockery, is disgusting and shameful.
Inspired by the metallica concert I just went to bc im pretty sure it changed my life
Simon with a partner who really only listens to rock music. Heavy metal, alternative, glam rock, nu-metal, punk - their playlist was comprised of the longest mashup of rock sub-genres in the world.
Simon who absolutely goes to rock concerts with you, always grabbing the best seats and going in the pit with you, massive frame and skull baklava scaring off anyone who even tries to push you.
Simon who gets you to the barricade or lifts you up on his shoulders so you can see your favorite stars up close.
Simon who watches you scream the lyrics and dance around as he holds the merch and waters in his hand. (He absolutely does the dad pose - arms crossed, bobbing his head to the music and mouthing the lyrics).
Simon who holds the phone and films clips of your favorite songs to watch later, so you canive in the moment and enjoy the music. (He doesn't mind)
Simon who, after the concert is over, takes you to your favorite late night convenience store or restaurant, treating you and him to your post concert meal.
Simon who helps you take off your outfit and gets you into bed quickly after as he finishes unloading the car.
Alright alright, so- about a year ago, I was apart of a large cod discord server with a good friend that ended up getting shut down due to internal conflict within the server that has been resolved and have been moved on from.
I’m writing this today because!! I miss all the friends made and all of the fun we all had within the server! :( Despite the few problems that we had to handle, most of the times was fun and enjoyable where people got to hand out and have fun.
So I am thinking!!! Of bringing it back perhaps? What do you guys think? Would any of you be interested in joining? Would any of my moots be interested in running it with me?
Just like before, it’ll be a server where you can come and just hang out, where you can share your ideas, writing, art, and other shenanigans. Something I am still considering is the age limitations and the separation of that. I’m not sure whether or not to allow anyone to join and work out roles and permissions to separate any 18+ content from the view of minors or to only allow 18+ like last time.
support ALL fat women, not just the ones with hourglass figures and smooth skin. support fat women with apron bellies, with small boobs, with flat butts, with visible rolls, with arm flaps, with thick necks, with no jawline, with “multiple” chins. support fat women with big shoulders, fat women who’s waists don’t go in, who have stretch marks on their armpits and arms and stomach, not just on their chest and thighs or butts or “attractive” places.
support disabled fat women. support fat women of color. support fat trans women. support fat women when they wear crop tops and low rise jeans and bikinis and support fat women when they wear hijab and abayas. support fat women who are advocates and support fat women who are just trying to live their lives in peace
not just the women you’re attracted to. not just the ones you find “palatable”, not just the ones who are “thick”. all of us.
Your brother is coming home for the summer holidays and plans to crash at yours. What he didn’t warn you about, however, was the unexpected friend he decided could tag along.
Brother’s best friend au, what more is there to say. (Reader is John McTavish’s sister)
3:05 am
The slight night breeze cooled your car down as you sat in the car park of the airport. It was hot, and the airport was a continuous stream of traffic that you could not wait to get out of. You drummed your fingers against the open gap of the window as you looked out for any sign of your brother. His plane landed an hour ago but there was still no sign of him.
Usually you wouldn’t pick him up, but since he was going to be home for a longer break you thought it was the least you could do— being a good sister and all.
Your phone buzzes beside you in the dark of your car’s interior. You reach for the dial of your radio and turn down the music before answering it.
“Hey Johnny, you here yet?” You look out the window in search of him.
“M’here just got out, it’s fucking crazy in there. Where are you?” He asked.
You reach for your keys to start the car, “I’ll come to you, tell me what you’re nearest to.”
Casually you can see John standing there with his duffle bag high on his shoulder and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. Beside him is a man you don’t recognise, he’s got a cigarette lit and a mask pulled under his chin as he smokes. You don’t think much of it as you wind down your window, and let out a low teasing wolf whistle.
“Need to get somewhere, darlin’? I got room in my car just for you,” you cackle as John’s disbelieving shake of his head.
“Shut it, it’s way too early for your shit,” there’s no heat behind it, by the smile on his face you can tell he’s pleased to see you.
You keep your hands on the wheel as he opens the boot of your car to toss his bags in. Curiously you watch the unfamiliar man follow John’s footsteps, through your rear view mirror you can see them exchange a few words as he drops the butt of his cigarette and hikes his mask back up.
Eventually John drops himself in the passenger seat while his friend carefully enters the backseat. When you look in the rear view mirror this time you can see his mask actually has a skull imprint on it, and you assume his hair is blonde by the low lights from passing headlights under his beanie.
“Gonna introduce the mysterious stranger in my backseat sometime soon?” You inquire as you pull out onto the road again.
John sinks deeply into seat, relaxation finally sinking into his bones, “‘uh? That’s Simon, I spoke about him once or twice didn’t I?”
You frown, the name rings a familiar bell, but it’s not what you care about right now. “Okay, so why is Simon in my car right now and not home on holiday?”
The unfamiliar voice makes you flinch in shock, “You didn’t tell her Johnny?” His voice rumbles.
John scratches his head trying to remember, “Did I ask if Simon could crash at yours or did I imagine that?”
“Johnny!” You exasperate, “You fucking idiot, you didn’t think to tell me that you were planning to bring a friend home over the holidays?”
“I thought I did!” He shoots back, not the least bit apologetic.
You sigh exaggeratedly, Simon is already looking at you when you glance back in the mirror, you smile to ease his stress, “Don’t worry Simon, you’re more than welcome. Even if someone, didn’t think to fucking warn me so I could set up the spare room,”
Johnny scoffs, “You never set up the spare room for me,”
“Because you never appreciate my effort, you’d sleep on the carpet and still think it was the best nights sleep you’ve ever had,”
“I cannot fucking wait to sleep.” he moans.
It’s almost 5 am when you pull into the driveway of your house. You’re exhausted as you close the door behind you, the boys grab their own bags and let you lead the way to unlock the front door. You flick the entrance lights on and kick your shoes off, John follows with ease but Simon makes an effort to be a bit more reserved as he neatly slips his shoes off.
You lead them through and open the door to the spare room on the way to the kitchen. You peak over your shoulder to look at John’s friend, “Simon, this room is all yours, okay? I’ll get some blankets soon, feel free to drop your things though,”
He nods and quietly ducks in while you and John walk into the kitchen. He drops his bags unceremoniously on your couch before stretching his arms high above his head.
“Not much of a talker is he?” You muse.
John hums, “He’ll warm up. He’s a tough nut that guy.”
You nod, turning on the kettle for a much needed drink. You turn your back, faintly hearing John collapse on the couch as you move about grabbing some cups. When you turn back around Simon is standing beside you, almost hovering.
“Jesus!” You gasp, clenching the handles of the cups harder in your fright, “You move quietly for a massive fucking man,”
John cackles from his spot on the couch, absolutely pissing himself with laughter. The slightest crinkle forms at the corners of Simon’s eyes at your reaction.
“Need a hand?” He brushes off.
You exhale deeply, “Sure, tea or coffee?”
“Tea, the man’s fucking British,” John cuts in.
“Bags are in the top cupboard.”
You move about in comfortable silence, Simon keeps his space as he moves about trying to find where you keep everything. Upon first impression, you find him very respectful and try not to judge his reasoning behind wearing a mask and beanie indoors.
John is almost snoozing with his hoodie on and arms crossed over his chest when you call for him, “Do you want tea or not?”
He swats his hand absentmindedly, “M’sleepin’ later,”
You roll your eyes and put his mug back in the cupboard. Simon helps himself and makes his to his liking, by now his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. You make a beeline for the linen closet and take out spare blankets, without looking around you drop them on the edge of the spare bed before making your way back into the kitchen.
“Alright, spare room is all done. You can make it however you want,” you announce.
He nods, watching as you stand on the other side of the bench to make your drink. Without wanting to make it awkward you smile politely and gesture towards his drink, “Do you want to take it to your room? I’m gonna pass out in like ten minutes anyway, no point in staying out here.”
He takes your opening and thanks you before retreating back to his room. You exhale quietly once he’s out of earshot, although a polite house guest so far, his silent personality sets you on nervous edge. You remembered him earlier as John’s lieutenant who he’s always cracking jokes as you heard over your phone calls. But honestly you find it hard to imagine.
Must be one tough shell he’s got.
You shrug your shoulders and make your way across the hall to your own room. With the blinds shut, you can almost imagine it’s not sunrise as you go to sleep.
Hours later you can hear rummaging in your kitchen once again, the smell of bacon wafts in after making your stomach grumble. With a dreary moan you rise, throwing on a jumper over your shorts as you shuffle into the kitchen. John is at the stove, humming and energetic as he moves about. Although a morning person, you have no idea how he’s so alive after only a few hours sleep.
“Good morning sleepyhead!” He cheers, “Thought I’d make you breakfast for being such a caring baby sister,”
“Shove it,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes roughly with the sleeves of your jumper, “Why are you so loud?”
“He’s loud enough for the both of us,” a deep voice answers.
“Sleepyhead number two! The whole family is here,” John coos condescendingly.
Simon is standing there in casual clothes similar to last night, only this time the beanie and mask are missing. You can’t help but gawk as you take in his full face, he’s definitely blonde if the mop on top of his head is anything to go by. And he’s much more handsome than you anticipated.
When he looks over at you, you try to save yourself by smiling and waving him off, “Honestly, I don’t know how you deal with him,”
“Likewise,” he mutters, bringing the empty cup from last night to the sink.
“Hey,” John flicks the oil coated spatula at the both of you, “Don’t bond over your fond annoyance for me, I didn’t agree to that,”
You raise your eyebrow, “Not really offering anything else though are you?”
“I am slaving away at this stove for you, and this is how you treat me?”
“You’re clearing out my groceries because you’re starving don’t try to make yourself look good.” you shoot back.
John opens his mouth but then thinks better of it, you got him there. He whistles a merry tune as he turns back to the stove, you gaze over at the sink to see Simon rinsing out his cup with a faint smile on his face.
“Enjoying your stay so far?” You muse.
He looks over at you as he switches the tap off, “It’s been entertaining,”
John scoffs, “Don’t be humble, you love hearing me get told off,”
Simon hums, “It is satisfying.”
The kitchen falls into a peaceful silence, you make yourself comfortable on one of the stools at your island as you watch John move around and rummage in drawers to finish cooking breakfast. Simon stands awkwardly for a moment, as an uncomfortable house guest does. You tap the bench beside you in silent offering to sit down, he gratefully takes your invitation and pulls up a stool beside you. Even when sitting down you can tell he’s quite tall with the way his shoulders are resting inches above your own. You honestly find his stature a bit intimidating but try your best to not let it show on your face.
“How are you?” You ask, to be polite.
Simon looks down at you quizzically, like he’s trying to understand your question. You almost feel bad, when’s the last time someone asked him that?
“I’m,” he thinks, “Okay. Relieved to have a break,”
You raise your eyebrow, “You sure you signed up for a break?” You hitch your thumb in Johnny’s direction, “You know he’s gonna run you ragged right?”
He chuckles, “I know, maybe you can reign him in for me,”
You grin and lean in to whisper, he stoops down to hear you, “We’ll take turns. Joint custody?”
He looks at you and nods, small amusement shown on his face, “Deal,”
When Johnny turns around with two plates in hand, all he can see is the both of you leant in close whispering about something. He immediately cuts in with disapproving shout as he puts the plates down in front of the both of you.
“No way, I am not having this,” he states.
Simon reaches for his cup as he listens to whatever is about to unfold, you frown, “Having what?”
He gestures between the two of you “This, whatever this is. It’s too comfortable for me, where’s the space for Jesus?”
The choke you hear next to you makes you look over, Simon is bent over his cup, incredulous look on his face and taken aback.
You however, are used to this, “Don’t fucking start Johnny, we were just talking about what your plans were.”
John looks between the two of you, hands on his hips in assessment. You sigh and roll your eyes, Simon remains silent but at ease. The both of you are far too used to Johnny’s antics to fall for his intimidation tactic. You pluck one of the hashbrowns off your plate and hold it out in peace offering, he instantly breaks character and takes it.
He bites a corner off as he speaks, “We’re gonna go to the beach,”
“No we’re fuckin’ not,” Simon instantly cuts in.
You laugh at the deep contempt in his voice. John huffs, “Don’t be a baby, Si, we need to keep up the tan,”
Simon leans towards your side to whisper, “You’re it, you can take this one,”
You shake your head and smile, looking over at John who conveniently has his back turned to fix his plate.
“Not a fan of the beach?” You inquire quietly.
Simon forks at one of the eggs on his plate, “I’d rather kill myself,”
You snort, his bluntness taking you off guard. John joins you both with his plate now full, once placed on the island you speak up, “I actually just found this hidden swimming hole near my place that we could go to,”
John raises his eyebrow, “How hidden is it exactly?”
You mull it over for a moment, “It’s not deserted, people definitely know about it, but it’s still pretty quiet. It used to be a quarry, and it’s in the middle of the bush so not a lot of people make the drive.”
Both boys sit in silence for a minute, debating probably entirely different things. Simon glances at you for the corner of his eye, silent plea to seal the deal.
“I mean it’s better than the beach during peak hour? You’ll never find a spot now at this hour,” you bargain.
John sighs, “I know when I’ve been outvoted. Just didn’t think my own blood would betray me like that, for the British no less.”
You roll your eyes, choosing not to respond and finish your breakfast. The boys talk about people you’re not sure of, coworkers you assume. You don’t think much of it, allowing their chatter to fill the quiet of your house. It’s nice to have company, you missed having your brother home and it’s always a relief to see him in one piece.
Simon is slowly growing more on you, still hesitant and quiet but John cracks his shell a little more with each sentence he pulls out of him. You have no idea how he does it, he’s got a gift when it comes to pulling out peoples personalities.
Eventually you push yourself back from your stool and hop off, bringing any empty dishes to the sink. “Best get your things ready if you want to make your way over,” you call out from over your shoulder, “It’s still early so it should be empty over there if we want it to ourselves,”
“Don’t have to tell me twice, I call shower first,” John responds, walking over to his bag.
“Where are your manners? We have a guest,” you frown.
“Simon can suck it, I’m not sacrificing my slot for him,” he calls out as he pulls clothes out, flinging them over his shoulder to hold.
Simon raises his hands, pacifying, “I can wait,”
You point a soapy finger in Simon’s direction as you wait for the water to run warm in the sink, “Don’t let him walk all over you Simon, he’s an asshole and will take advantage,”
Simon stands, collecting the forgotten dishes on the island, “I’m well aware.”
The bathroom door closes shortly after, effectively cutting off the conversation. You turn your back and continue washing the dishes, this time you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand before two arms appear beside you to place the dishes down.
You breathe out, “Seriously, you have got to teach me how to move around so quietly,”
Simon raises an eyebrow, “Why would you need to be trained in stealth?”
You shrug, scrubbing at a plate, “Seems handy, imagine how undefeated I would be at hide and seek,”
When you look over at Simon you can see him already staring at you incredulously, “You would use trained stealth skills for hide and seek?”
“Duh?” You answer dumbly, “Have you ever snuck up on Johnny? He has the best reactions,”
“Can’t say I have.” he responds bluntly.
By the time you make it to the swimming hole the sun is high in the sky and it is fucking hot. The walk down was all downhill so you’re already dreading the walk back but you try to not think about it. You grin when you see the water and turn around to face the boys, arms outstretched.
“See? Isn’t this so much better than an overcrowded beach? We’re all alone!” You marvel.
John immediately removes his shirt, admiring the water, “Yeah okay, I’ll hand it to ya’ this is much better,”
You look over at Simon and send him a conspiratorial wink. John jogs past already beelining for the water to cool down. You place the bags down, bending over to bring the towels out.
“Need help?” Simon asks, almost looming over you.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Do you want to place the towels down? I need to find this sunscreen,” you reply.
Simon does as he’s told while you keep looking, damn sunscreen always disappears when you need it most. Eventually you find it at the bottom, when you straighten back up you see all three towels neatly laid out in a row. You smile in thanks and sit down on the nearest one.
You generously squeeze some sunscreen onto your hand before handing it over to Simon who’s now beside you, “Sunscreen?”
He shakes his head, “Don’t need,”
“What?” You frown, “Everyone needs it,”
He shrugs, “Not me,”
“Simon, put the fucking sunscreen on,” he’s being ridiculous now.
He shakes his head, pushing the bottle back into your hands. You take your chance and slap your other hand against his outstretched arm, a big white spot of sunscreen is now splattered all over his tattooed arm.
“Oh no,” you gasp, “God I’m just so clumsy, let me get that for you,” amused by your own ridiculous acting, you try not to laugh as you rub the sunscreen into his arm.
Simon looks down at you imploringly, watching you rub your hands up and down his arm. He refuses to admit that it feels nice, and looks away from you. Focusing on John who’s swimming towards the other end of the hole.
You hold your hands up, still covered in sunscreen, “Might as well do your other arm, wouldn’t want you to tan unevenly.”
Like he gives a fuck. He rolls his eyes and tilts his body, giving you access to his other arm, with a grin you spread the excess sunscreen over it. John swims towards you both, stepping out of the water now drenched head to toe. He cackles when he sees you finishing applying the sunscreen.
“Roped you into it did she?” He sympathises.
He scoffs, “I feel like a child,”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, pulling away to grab more sunscreen, “Your turn Johnny, get down here so I can get your back,”
John immediately sits down in front of you, not willing to fight you on this one. He looks over at Simon, “Should go in Si, water’s warm and empty.”
Simon grunts, watching the water for a moment. You’re busy rubbing sunscreen into your brother’s shoulders, when Simon stands, you don’t take notice until you see his shirt drop on the towel he was previously occupying. You watch over John’s shoulder as he walks towards the watering hole, broad back on display for you to stare at. Your jaw drops as you take him in, all his scars and the tattoos that crawl up his biceps and onto his chest.
“Close your mouth,” John mutters, not even looking at you.
“It’s not— fuck off,” you blush, pointedly looking away.
“You’re about as obvious a brick wall,” he looks over his shoulder at you, mischievous smile on his face.
You glare, “I’m not obvious about anything,”
He raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? You rub sunscreen into everyone’s arms?”
“That was taken out of context,” you defend.
John turns back, “Sure it was.”
He eventually moves to sit on the other towel beside you, watching Simon swim back towards the bank. You remove your t-shirt revealing your one-piece bathing suit. As you apply sunscreen, John leans over.
“Your birthday is coming up right?” He asks.
You hum, rubbing up and down your arm, “Yeah, in a week. You keen on coming?”
“Fuck yeah, I could go for drinks, you got any cute friends?”
Your eyes roll, “Don’t be a sleaze, I’m not cleaning up your mess.”
Just then Simon re-emerges, the chest you didn’t see before now all you can see. You absently rub sunscreen into your neck as you watch him trek back, John is talking but it’s white noise. You only zone back in when you seen Simon looking at you questioningly.
“Sorry?” You pardon.
“Simon was wondering what day your birthday was,” John supplies helpfully, smug as he does so.
“Oh!” You recover, “It’s next Friday, I’m going for drinks with a few friends. Which you’re more than welcome to tag along to,”
Simon nods walking over to his towel. John leans in to whisper, “Nice save, idiot,”
You slap his arm, cringing in embarrassment, “Fuck off, you’re not getting any of my friends now,” you hiss.
Simon pretends to not hear, draping his towel over his neck to dry any water. The swimming hole is peaceful, and hearing you and Johnny bicker oddly puts him at ease.
once you start noticing how many of the Sexy Thicc Anime Babez hornyposted across the net with fat tits and fat asses overflowing out of their micro-bikinis still have 24" waists and rail-thin arms and pencil necks you never stop noticing it
if you're going to say a character is "thicc" and show off her assets, you damn well better make sure that, in the immortal words of sir mix-a-lot, the red beans and rice didn't miss her
