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@soliloquysoph
Hi!! I’m Soph, I’ve been inconsistently writing and hoping to get back into it so I figured why not repost everything I have on wattpad over here? I’m not getting much interaction there so it was a tad discouraging but fingers crossed I get something out of this!
🎀💀🎀💀🎀💀
Master list is a WIP :’)
heavy heavy lover boy Simon
another writing inspired by a song? yes except I’m not gonna say what song or artist even tho it’s glaringly obvious if you know
-
Simon was an intense lover. Not in the sexual sense but in the sense that he was so painfully obsessed with you that he was willing to go through insane things just to be with you at all times. Hypothetical situations would be posed out of nowhere, like “I wish I could be blind for th’rest of my life so I’d get t’hold y’hand wherever we go.”
“Simon, who even thinks of that?”
“Me.”
He’d write you little notes for you to find around the house, with poorly drawn hearts and stick figures of him and you holding hands. Texts throughout the day telling you how much he misses you and adores you and pictures of random things that remind him of you. Then he would of course come home with fresh flowers even if he just bought you some two days ago.
It was even worse when you were sick. He’d take as long as he needed to off work even if he technically wasn’t allowed to. Told Price he’d be there if there was an emergency but otherwise he wouldn’t be leaving your side. He laid beside you in bed all day, getting up for soup or tea or medicine. He always made sure you were comfortable and weren’t missing anything, handing you fistfuls of tissues before you even realized you needed one.
And he’d still kiss you all he wanted, snotty stuffy nose and all. He always insisted that love could fix everything.
“Simon stop, I’m contagious.”
“I don’t care, I’d kiss ya even if ya were dead.”
“That’s so weird.”
He would laugh it off, kissing you again and again until you started feeling better (because of the actual medicine) and he’d say, “See? Told ya love could heal ya.”
spit kink spit kink spit kink
cw: spit kink with all of em, implied anal but no description
-
Price stared at you borderline disgusted but also concerned.
“What the fuck?” Gaz murmurs as he watches the scene unfold in horror. Soap can’t even speak, his jaw is so far on the floor. Simon already had you by the jaw, a long thick stream of saliva dripping from his mouth right onto your tongue as you look up at him like he was bestowing some sort of blessing.
He lets you go as you swallow and so happily turn back to the others like nothing happened. The three men slowly look at each other and then at Simon. Gaz just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like some stressed out father.
“Aye bonnie, can I have a go at tha’?” Soap asks, breaking the silence. He’s already scooting closer to you before you can answer but you open your mouth anyway, more than ready to receive anything he gives you. He visibly quivers at the sight before grabbing your jaw the way Simon had and watching as his spit hits your tongue. You swear his eyes glazed over a bit and he pulls away, glancing up at Simon with a look only they knew the meaning of.
Then Gaz comes in next to Johnny, shoving him to the side and running his thumb over your lip. He pushes past your lips, forcing them open as he leans in and kisses you before transferring spit from his mouth to yours. He kisses you again while you swallow and you reach out for Price’s hand, silently beckoning him over.
Price quickly obliges and takes your hand. He pulls you away from Gaz and onto his lap where he takes a minute to feel you up still looking mildly disgusted but the growing bulge under you said otherwise.
“Open, sweetheart.” You open your mouth for him and he leans you back just a bit, spitting twice on your tongue. He groans watching you swallow your fourth deposit of saliva and looks over your shoulder at the others who all had very obvious hard ons and were struggling to keep their hands from taking care of it.
You look back at them and huff out a soft chuckle at the sight, grinding down on Price’s lap torturously slow. “I got three holes and two hands you guys, get over here.”
being married to Simon as a lieutenant in the navy- requested by @wolfiemagic :)
no warnings!
-
It wasn’t uncommon for the navy to get calls from other branches to assist in missions overseas but it was uncommon for it to be your husband’s unit. You hadn’t seen each other in about a week, you were out on a ship patrolling the ocean and Simon was on a mission.
You stood out on the flight deck, shielding your eyes from the sun as a dark helicopter appoaches. It touches down and out hops 141, greeting you all politely. Except for Simon. He doesn’t greet you with a ‘maam’ like everyone else, just a nod and a look only you catch.
“Thank you for lettin’ us stay here while we gather our bearings,” Price interrupts your thoughts with a light pat to your shoulder. “Weren’t expecting Makarov to be hiding out at sea this time.”
“Don’t worry about it, Captain. Happy to help.” You give him a smile and begin escorting them inside to the war room where they could think up a new strategy. You hold the door open for them and are about to go in yourself when someone calls for Lieutenant Riley.
“Yes?”
“Yes?”
Both you and Simon respond at the same time, confusing the sergeant that called out for a moment. Price, Soap and Gaz all stop and look in your direction as well, just as confused.
“Uh- this Lieutenant Riley, sir,” the sergeant clarifies as she points to you. “Captain’s up in the control room asking for you. Something about the radar?”
“Alright, I’ll be right there.” You nod, smiling as she leaves and you excuse yourself from the others. “Well duty calls, you’re free to use the room as long as you’d like. Call me if anything, yeah?” Then you pause, looking at Simon. “Lieutenant Riley.” You give him a stifled laugh and a short nod before taking your leave.
Soap opens his mouth to question Simon but he’s quickly shut up with one look from him. They quickly forget about the matter and get to strategizing, hours passing before they finish and decide to go get some food. They find their way to the cafeteria and get their trays piled up, claiming a table towards the back of the room. You come over some minutes later with a clipboard and an air of positivity that only the navy could have.
“Good evening gentlemen, I had some rooms cleared out for you to stay in as long as you need. There were only three single rooms available though, so Garrick, MacTavish and Price you all get your own. Riley you’re with me.”
“I’m sorry, what the fock is goin on here?” Soap blurts out, squinting at you. “Ye got the same name and then ye tell ‘im he’s in yer room, ye two know each other?”
“Somethin like that, Johnny,” Simon shrugs and holds his hand out for you to hand him the room key.
“Somethin- aye LT she’s a married woman, have some respect. Ye ain’t see the ring?”
“I know, I bought it.” The others look dumbstruck at the revelation, never before having even a hint that Simon was with someone, much less married. They all look at you and you just nod in agreement, taking out a small photo from your pocket of you and Simon on your wedding day.
The whole rest of their time on the ship they wouldn’t stop asking you questions and yelling at Simon for never mentioning you. Then they invited themselves over to your house after the mission for a “family dinner”.
simon has a bad habit :/
cw: toxic behavior💔, big man gets on his knees
-
Maybe it was learned behavior from his father, maybe it was just in his nature, but Simon has an affinity for picking fights. Physical or otherwise, he just pushes and pushes and pushes until the other person has had enough and all hell breaks loose.
And unfortunately, you weren’t immune from it. It started with little comments here and there, like him coming home when you were in the middle of cleaning and asking why you didn’t do it earlier when you had all day. You tried passing them off as him just being an ass on purpose to mess with you but then it just kept going.
Just small things really, enough to brush off or shove his arm for but eventually it escalated into back and forth arguments and him sleeping on the couch. And then one day he completely embarrasses you in front of his friends. He’d been drinking a few beers and said, “Oi why don’t ya make y’self useful for once and get me another?”
A heavy silence fell over the room and Price looked like he was about to kill the man. You force a polite smile and tell the guys that was enough for tonight and you’d see them later. They file out despite Simon’s protests and the moment you see them drive away, you go off.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, huh? ‘Make myself useful’? Really?”
“Oi come on love, calm down-“
“No don’t ’come on love’ me. Simon, you’ve been acting absolutely atrocious, the way you’ve been treating me has just gotten worse and worse and I don’t understand it.”
He starts talking again but you’re already halfway to your room, too hurt to hear a word. You grab a bag and start shoving clothes and anything else you’d need into it. Simon freezes at the door and that’s when reality starts to set in.
“What are y’doing?”
“I’m leaving, Simon.” You scoff, pausing to look at him. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you but this isn’t the man I fell in love with. I’m done.”
“No. No no no-“ he steps into the room and hesitates before grabbing your arms gently to stop you from packing. “Baby please, m’sorry. How can I make it up to ya?”
You look up at him with tear filled eyes and shrug. “Figure it out.” You pull away from him and get the last of your belongings in the bag, zipping it up. You’re stopped by Simon once again who’s now got tears of his own streaming down his face.
“M’sorry, I fucked up. I know that, yeah?” He sniffles, a deep sob breaking through. “Love please, I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t- I instigate, I say shit I don’t mean, I just…let me make it up to you just don’t leave me.”
You stare at him silently, knuckles white as you clutched the strap of your bag. “Knees.”
“What?”
“Get on your knees,” you clarify, “and beg for forgiveness. If you want me to stay, you get on your bloody knees.”
Simon had never heard that tone from you before and for some reason it makes a chill go down his spine. But he doesn’t argue, just slowly kneels down in front of you, hands sliding from your arms down to the fronts of your thighs just above the knee. He looks up at you with a desperate look in his eye, lip quivering.
“M’so fuckin sorry. It’s an awful habit I got and I ain’t gonna try t’make excuses. I won’t do it t’ya anymore, swear it. I won’t do it t’anyone. I’m breakin that habit, okay? T’night.”
Now it was your turn to cry. Tears quietly fall and he exhales through his mouth, his hands reaching up to wipe your cheeks. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Fuck. Get up. Get the fuck up, Simon.” He stands and you drop the bag and hold onto him tightly.
“You have one more chance. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I won’t.”
Crying because there’s a bug in your room and you’re deathly afraid of them.
-
You call Price, no answer. Soap, no answer. Ghost, no answer. Gaz, the line rings once. Twice. Then it clicks.
“Yeah?”
“Kyle there’s an emergency I need you to get here right now no excuses.”
“What? Okay?” He hangs up and rushes to your room, opening the door to find you on your bed in tears pressed up into the furthest corner. You sniffle and point to the center of the room, where a tiny spider was just sitting there. Gaz looks at the ground and has the nerve to laugh at you, grabbing a cup and a piece of paper to trap the thing.
He lets it outside and helps you down from the bed, letting you cry into him for a few minutes.
“Hey you’re alright, quit being a wuss. You got me for pest control, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He pats your hair gently and wipes your face when you finally pull back.
“There’s another one in the bathroom.”
“Christ, woman.”
This isn’t an ask this is just me thanking you for all the amazing asks you’ve been giving me and my requests are always open to you, goddess!!
asdfghjkl thank you 🥺 ily and your requests
I have terrible news. I’ve been playing Nintendogs and now all I can think about is wolf hybrid! 141 finding puppy!wolf hybrid alone and scared and taking them in
ask and you shall receive every member of 141 essentially being dads
nothing for warnings :P
-
“Room’s clear, cap.”
“Aye, this one too.”
“Good. Let’s get to exfil and-“ everyone stops moving when they hear a distinct whining and whimpering coming from a banged up locker. The four men look at each other, ears twitching when the noise comes again. Gaz takes a small step toward the locker, careful not to make any loud noises.
“Anyone in there?”
He’s answered by a pitiful ‘yeah’ and the door creaks open, revealing you curled up with old and new tears staining your cheeks. They all stared at you completely stunned, not at all expecting to find someone in an abandoned building in the middle of a war zone, much less a hybrid pup. You looked them each up and down, scanning for any danger but detected none. Just felt the familiarity of the wolfish scent wafting off of them.
“Can I leave with you guys?”
The question was pretty bold coming from someone cowering in a metal box but they clearly weren’t a threat. Price gives Gaz a nod and he approaches, holding his hands out to you and you don’t hesitate to climb into them. You cling to him like some sort of lifeline and he picks you up easily, mumbling to Price about how concerningly light you were. They take you back to base and take you straight to medical where you get cleaned up and fed your first hot meal in weeks.
They come visit you every day, getting acquainted and making sure you were comfortable. You were still so young that they weren’t exactly sure what to do with you and Ghost was adamant on not sending you off to some hybrid orphanage or he’d burn the place down himself. So Price made the executive decision to keep you with them and just train you until you were old enough to join 141 if that’s what you wanted.
They very quickly became the family you never had. Soap would sneak you extra snacks and candy, and let you stay up way too late whenever you slept in his room. Ghost would never admit to this but he let you braid the fur on his tail and put little clips and bows in it and he even had you teach him how to braid so he could return the favor. Gaz snuck out with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and he’d take you to a cliff side to stare up at the moon until your eyelids grew heavy. And Price set aside a whole box of old shirts and sweaters for you to wear since you said one time that he smelled the best out of all of them.
Over the years you grew stronger, smarter, sharper. Even rivaling Ghost as a sniper. And on your 18th birthday, you sat at Price’s desk staring at the contract that would bind you to the military for a good few years.
“You’re ready, kid.”
You knew you were, you’d trained for just over half of your life for this moment. You look at Price, then at the contract, back at Price then back down. You take the pen from his hand and sign your name, jumping when Soap sets off one of those confetti poppers and covers you in colorful paper strips.
“Congrats lass, yer officially one of us.” He slams his hands down on your shoulders and gives them a squeeze and the others quickly join in on the small celebration. Hiding in that locker was the best thing that ever happened to you.
It’s hot out and it’s bothering me so have this thought from yours truly🫶
cw: quite literally one line of vague smut
-
Johnny couldn’t stop thinking about the time Simon told him he tans a beautiful bronze. Every time the sun was out, he would take note of any and every possible skin tone change throughout the day if any. He got a little too good at it, grunting when Simon’s mask shifted a little to the side and revealed a sliver of skin about two shades lighter than the visible part of his face.
He only recognized him one day at the store because of the awkward tan strip on his otherwise maskless and pale face. Johnny ducked around the corner before Simon spotted him and followed him around and out to his car, still keeping his distance. He then got into his own car and drove home, thinking about Simon’s face the whole drive. Then he got a text.
You’re a terrible stalker, Johnny.
It was from Simon, along with an embarrassingly zoomed in photo of his messy unstyled Mohawk peeking out from behind a truck in the lot. He didn’t even respond, too ashamed to say anything for once. It’s not until one particular moment in training that Johnny sees his face again. They were doing helo training, specifically trying to get out of an inverted one while underwater in under a minute. Price, Gaz and Johnny all go first and then it was Simon’s turn.
He comes out of the water coughing and everyone’s instantly on high alert until he pulls his mask off, having accidentally water boarded himself. Simon gets out of the pool cursing the whole time and is wringing out the mask when he stops and looks up, locking eyes with a dumbstruck Scot.
“Can I help ya, Johnny?”
“Aye- no, LT. Nah.” He shakes his head and looks away, giving Gaz a weirdly defensive look when he starts laughing. He couldn’t lie to himself, the man was gorgeous. Weird tan lines and all, he couldn’t figure out why he insisted on covering his face outside of safety reasons. He still had the stripe, now a little darker but not by much. Most likely dirt and sweat from the day they’d had.
Didn’t stop him from rutting against his mattress that night, though.
HEHEHE OKAY maybe perhaps reader had a shitty day and so she comes home and simon notices and does silly stupid nonconventional shit to cheer her up
-soph🦈
Thank you goddess, I hope you enjoy :)
————
You are bone tired, feet swollen and red, pushing out of your thrift store flat that Simon warned you would give you blisters. Do you listen, no? Are they super cute, yes?
The hike up the stairs to your shared apartment makes your legs feel like concrete with every step; the belt on your slacks is somehow too low and too high, your chipped nail won’t stop creating little pills on your dress shirt, and the clip you so fashionably put in your hair is pushed in so tightly that it’s giving you a crooked face lift. Not to mention your purse won’t stay on your shoulder and the groceries you know aren’t going to be cooked tonight are cutting into your swollen, purpling fingers.
You were ready to be done. Work sucked, coworkers sucked, and now it was time to rot on the couch with your man.
You push open the peeling green door with what little strength is left and Simon stands on the other side, a horrified look on his scarred face.
“Good god, woman ! You look awful!”
You know he’s joking, you know he’s joking, you know he’s joking, you know—-
You can’t help it; the tears come before you’ve had a moment to step foot into the apartment and the water works begin; all of your bags crash to the ground and your dissolve breaks. Fat, blush tinted tears roll down your face and o to your lunch stained sweater.
Simon quickly gets his ass in gear, understanding that his “cheeky” comment has made an ass out if him and hurt your feelings. While you stand in the open door way, sobbing, Simon takes the bags, hangs up your purse, throws the keys in the bowl, and puts away the groceries.
When he’s done he gently takes your shoulders and guides you to the couch where you’re stripped of your sweater, badge, shoes and claw clip, all the while whispering soft apologies and how he’s going to make it up to you.
You remain the same, coughing up phlegm, pushing out an eight hour works days worth of exhaustion into dried cracked hands.
There’s a moment of silence and your overwhelming anxiety has convinced you Simon is gone, gone forever to run off with a nameless, faceless girl who he’s secretly been in love with for years and is living you alone.
Instead, reality gives you a firm slap on the ass and before you stands your stupid boyfriend with three oranges in his hands, two others sit in the dusty tv stand.
“Wha…Simon?” You sniffle , wiping your eyes with the tissues you didn’t know he placed in front of you, as well as a cookie warmed in the microwave.
“How do cows do math?”
“What….huh?”
“How do cows do math?”
You feel like you’re dying; nothing else about this day can be normal.
He smiles, in that stupid , I’m-about-to-do-something-dumb , kind of way that is as equally boyish and charming as it is annoying.
Then, to overstimulate even more, he begins to juggle; the three oranges go around and around in different patterns and directions while you just sit there, annoyed and slightly impressed.
Then he asks the question again. How do cows do math?
And, of course, before you can answer he answers for you, just as he adds another orange.
“With a cow-culator.”
The four oranges go around and around and you feel the sudden urge to slap him and also kiss him passionately. What ultimately wins is you settle into the couch, curled up with a blanket and your warmed cookie, watching him as he tells stupid jokes and juggles.
….that is until your vase breaks and waters gets all over the floor.
But the gesture was nice. 
AAAAAHAHAAA I love it I love it thank you
Sorry but imagine sloppy kissing Simon??
He wouldn’t take his mask off completely, just lift it so it’s right over the tip of his nose. His breathing would be heavy because hello hot and heavy makeout would have him winded. He’d have taken his gloves off so he could touch you properly, no thick annoying material in the way.
Sometimes he’d bite your lip, sometimes he’d bite or suck on your tongue, wherever his teeth could close, he’d do it. Never hard enough to hurt or anything, just because he loved doing it. He’d make sure your lips would be a little swollen for the following hour so he could reminisce every time he looked at you.
His favorite thing would be when he backs you into a corner (literally and figuratively) so you can’t get away. Not like you wanted you, not with his hands already on you like something fragile. He’d be one to tug on your belt loop or tac vest to bring you closer before leaning in.
And he’d also whisper little things to you right before he kissed you and in between kisses like “what’re y’blushin for, love?” Or something like that. There’d be drool all over your faces and his thumb would swipe it away before he kissed you one last time then let you go.
It would be so fucking sweet oh my god.
I’ve brought you a gift!
What do you think about bomb sniffing German Sheppard! reader who has their canines forcibly removed and was debarked because of one failed mission and has been thrown to the 141 because now they are seen as useless
I love the way you think😼
no real warnings just kinda sad at first?
-
The most humiliating thing you could do to a hybrid was take away their defining features. It wasn’t even your fault, your entire team fell for a diversion and you missed one bomb in a crucial spot. Anyone could have missed it and they did, there were other sniffers in the field with you but since you were already on thin ice for biting a commanding officer after he yanked on your tail, you took the fall.
You were strapped down to a terribly uncomfortable leather chair and your mouth pried open as the dentist just barely numbed you up and removed your canines. The only real way of defending yourself if needed. Then they clipped your vocal cords so there went your bark. You could still talk, but you were much quieter and a little hoarse so you just preferred to keep your mouth shut. It wouldn’t be so bad if you looked fully human, but they decided to let you keep your ears and tail. “So you learn your lesson, mutt.”
Then they threw you to another unit. Task force 141. It would have been somewhere less elite but they needed a sniffer and you were damaged goods to your old team now so they didn’t much care. The day you arrived, your ears were pinned down flat against your skull almost hidden in your hair and your tail tucked, you looked miserable. It was a whole other humiliation ritual when you tried introducing yourself and the Scottish one loudly complained that he couldn’t hear you. You only sort of knew Price at the time so you looked at him on the brink of tears and he took over, introducing you on your behalf.
The weeks went by and you slowly got to know everyone else. The Scottish one was Soap, and he ended up apologizing for his first impression. The “pretty boy” was Gaz, who gave you a hat that matched his with ear holes cut out as a sort of welcome gift. Then the masked one was Ghost, quiet like you and oddly comforting in that sense. You slowly but surely began warming up to them, walking about five steps behind them at first until you felt comfortable enough to squeeze in with them. They treated you like they would anyone else, pushed you just as hard during training, talked to you like a person and not a scientific abomination.
Sometimes you’d sneak into their rooms if you missed one of them and roll around in their beds a bit so you could get their scent on you. You were only caught because a tuft of fur blew out from under Gaz’s bed when he opened the door one day. After that, they would each periodically text you to let you know their room would be empty all day so help yourself.
Your first mission with them was probably the worst you’d felt in a few months. The fear of fucking up again and getting a worse punishment crept back in and was evident on your face. Price side eyed you and scratched the spot right behind your ear, silently reassuring you. Thankfully the mission went without a hitch and you got tons of ear scratches on the ride back along with Soap going full dog mode and saying, “Such a good girl lass, look atcha. Oughta give ye a treat, aye?” While keeping you in a headlock to mess with your hair.
You loved your new team and they loved you, defining features or not. Though Ghost did decide to surprise you with a special retainer made with prosthetic canines so you could feel a bit more normal again. That made you ugly cry in his arms for about ten minutes.
But they made you realize you were never the problem, you just needed humanity.
GOODBYE LMFFFAOOO
HOLY SHIT????
Goodbye HE’S SO MMMMM YUM
Simon still being stubborn kinda
cw: wee bit o’ smut
Part 1
-
He got you a balaclava because you kept stealing his from his room mainly to annoy him but he thought that maybe you liked it. He was just being nice, of course. A good teammate, like he always told Soap when he questioned him about his actions. “She keeps takin’ mine, figured she just don’t know how t’ask for her own.”
You kept sneaking trinkets and surprises into his pockets until one day he caught you and you saw his eyes light up at the rock in your hand. He took it from you and inspected it before actually laughing under his breath. “Have y’been doin this all along? Here I was showin ya what y’already knew.” Then he reached up and messed up your hair before walking away inspecting the rock again.
Then he keeps a close eye on you on the team pub night, your cheeks slightly rosy from the drinks you’d had and voice loud enough to rival Soap’s. He excuses himself after a while to have a smoke and you join not even five minutes later. You lean against the wall beside him, arm brushing his.
“You got another one of those?”
“You smoke?”
“No.”
Simon looks down at you and shakes his head, handing you the one he was already holding. “M’not givin ya a whole one if y’don’t smoke. You’ll ruin y’lungs.”
“What about your lungs, hm?” You argue, raising your eyebrows as you take a hesitant drag from the cigarette, fighting a cough as you give it back. “Don’t you worry about ruining those?”
“M’not ruinin you.”
“What if I wanted you to?”
You two didn’t make it back into the pub after that. Simon wasn’t really sure what happened but something inside him just snapped when you said that. Maybe it was the building tension he so willfully ignored, maybe it was the way you were looking at him throughout the whole exchange paired with the challenge. Regardless, you were now in his bed straddling him and taking your shirt off as his hands ran up your thighs. His lips were glistening and swollen from making out for ten minutes before you pushed him onto his back.
Simon stared up at you in awe as more clothing came off, his and your bottoms were long gone but then your upper body was exposed and he was obsessed. He sat up and brought you into another kiss, fingers digging into your waist and guiding you back and forth to grind against him. Your slick was coating his length and his own sticky precum was beginning to smear across his lower abdomen. He slides you far back enough so that the tip of his cock slips inside and you gasp softly, breaking the kiss to look at him as he sinks you lower on to him.
“That alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, great.”
He lets out a deep exhale once he’s completely inside of you, letting you adjust before he holds your hips for support and starts thrusting. Feeling you wrapped so tightly around him as he fucked a string of moans of out you almost had him convinced that Soap was right. The fact he kept his mask off when it was just you two should have set off alarm bells in his head but he just refused to think anything of it.
He pushes the thought out of his head and lets you take over, kissing you again to muffle your high pitched moans. Simon still keeps his hands on you but allows you to grind down into him, doing whatever made you feel good. His lap was soaked but he didn’t much care, too focused on your walls tightening around him the closer you got to the edge. Your hips move faster and you suddenly bite his lip, complete accident, before breaking the kiss again and moaning into the crook of his neck, a slurry of “fuck fuck Simon, I’m cumming” forced out of your lungs.
He buries his face in your hair and with a deep thrust cums right after you, voice deep in your ear. “Fuckin hell, love. Y’ feel so good like that, think y’could go another round? Just gimme a few minutes,”
His cock twitches inside you, getting the last drops out and then he’s kissing you again. He could only hope that Soap never found out about this or he’d never hear the end of it.
took a weekend trip and got this idea on the drive back
no warnings :)
-
Simon was so so so stubborn, to the point that he refused to believe what anyone was telling him about you. It was nothing bad, he just wouldn’t believe that you were flirting with him. Or at least trying to. “She jus’ likes talking t’fill the silence. That’s all.”
He would just shrug it off, chalking it up to you hating prolonged silences so much that you just had to keep yapping. He didn’t mind it, it got the constant ringing in his ears to stop for a while. Plus, you always had something interesting to say and you’d ask him what he thought and hang on to every word he said. Soap kept telling him that the eyes never lie and that yours were screaming at Simon that you were head over heels for him but then again, he was stubborn. “So what she’s good at holdin eye contact? S’a good thing.”
You could talk and listen to him for hours. Even if he was clueless on the subject, he’d try to give some input to be polite and you soaked up every last bit of it. You knew he wasn’t flirting but it was close enough. Just getting the man to talk was an accomplishment. But you’d do your research, find out what he liked and knew a lot about and stick to those topics. Sometimes you’d even find him a little trinket and slip it in his pocket for him to find later. And he’d come knocking at your door to show you, “the neat little thing I found, y’like it?”
He grew used to your talking and steady conversation so naturally he hated it when you got sick and lost your voice for a few days. He came to your room with a box of tea bags and honey jars in one hand, and a steaming mug in the other. “It’s supposed t’help or at least that’s what th’medics said. You should be back t’talkin in no time.”
That’s what got Soap thinking that now Simon was into you. Because who brings tea to the person that lost their voice and can’t talk nonstop anymore unless they like that? Simon, of course, denied the allegations. Saying he was just being a good teammate and wanted you to feel better.
Part 2
clingy!simon got me thinking about insecure!simon
-
Simon can’t see. Well he can but barely. It’s a miracle he can hit a target or even make it into the military in the first place.
He usually wore contacts first time you see his glasses sitting on his desk, you put them on and immediately get a headache. “Christ Simon, what is wrong with you?” You groan as you set them back down, rubbing at your temples.
Simon turns to look and his face immediately drops when he sees you put the glasses down. “You…y’think something’s wrong with me?” He asks quietly, clearing his throat quickly. “They’re my glasses, that’s all.” He huffs and tries to play it off but his tone made you stop, eyes meeting his. His body language made the 6’3 man look so tiny, so hurt. He looks down at the glasses then back at you before grabbing them off the desk and carelessly shoving them into a drawer.
“I ain’t got nothin’ wrong with me.”
“Si, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Doesn’t matter. Get out, I got shit t’do.” And with that he pushes you out of his room before slamming the door in your face. You stand there feeling a mix of guilt and mild annoyance. Meanwhile Simon was standing on the other side trying to fight back tears. He hated his glasses. Always had, growing up being teased for them wasn’t easy and now the only person whose approval he actually craved was asking if something was wrong with him? He was overthinking the whole thing, of course, but he was too paranoid to realize it. He assumed you really thought something was wrong and now you saw him the same way everyone else did. Flawed.
You try to talk to him over the next few days but he just stays silent, visibly deflating a little whenever you walked into the room. It was getting to a point where you were open getting on your knees and begging for forgiveness for whatever you did wrong. So you show up at his door and bang on it a few times.
You’re about to knock another time when he opens it, stiffening up as he looks down at you through the lenses. “What are y’doing here?” He asks gruffly, scrunching his nose to push them back up as they slid down his nose. Cute.
“I came to apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you and I’m sorry. I don’t think anything’s wrong with you, just wasn’t expecting the prescription to be so strong.”
“Yeah,” he shifts his weight awkwardly and for a moment you see him as a timid child just wanting to get out of this situation. “Come in.” He shuts the door behind you, adjusting his glasses again before telling you everything. The bullying, the jokes from his own family, how he finally felt safe with you but then what you said brought everything back.
“M’not mad at ya.” He shakes his head, forehead creasing as his brows knit together. “Was just hurt I guess.”
You nod and remain quiet for a few moments before closing the distance and hugging him. His body relaxes and he slowly hugs you back, only a little uncomfortable. “I like your glasses. They’re a bit impractical in the field and whatnot but they look good on you. Nothing to be ashamed of and again I’m really sorry.”
“Whatever. Don’t speak a word of this t’anyone, got it?”
“Aye LT.”
imagine not knowing Simon was a vampire and thinking he just had a blood kink (except he kinda does still have a blood kink)
cw: vampire!simon with blood kink (obviously), smut
-
Sure, it was a bit odd that he insisted on biting you hard enough to draw blood whether it be your neck or thigh or wherever his teeth found themselves but Simon was also just an odd guy in general. He kept the mask on while he fucked you, only lifting it to his nose but that was it. He thought “half a dog” was the greatest punchline to ever exist and he never ran low on 100 spf sunblock, you’re pretty sure you saw a stash of it under his bed one time. Maybe blood just got him off.
Which was alright, at least he was still fucking you regardless. Except right now he wasn’t even inside you, much less close to being naked or even hard. He just had you in his lap, gnawing on the area between your neck and shoulder humming softly after…swallowing? Then it started to sting.
“Ow- Simon what the fuck are you doing?” You wince and push his head away, trying to examine the damage he’d done. Your opposite hand reaches over and your eyes widen when you see the blood on your fingers.
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?! How the hell does that make any sense? You’re chewing me up like a burger or something.”
Simon just blinks, wondering what was so confusing about what he said. “Y’dont get hungry?”
Now it was your turn to blink at him. “Yeah. But I don’t go around chewing on people’s shoulders.”
“Ah. S’cuz y’aren’t a vampire.” He glances down at your bloody shoulder and his brow twitches. His eyes darken ever so slightly and he has to shift his hips because now he was getting hard.
“Vampire?” You echo, keeping your eyes glued to him even as he repositioned you so you were face down ass up. He just nods, telling you not to worry about it right now as he undid his pants while you automatically pulled your own down. To his surprise, you were already dripping for him. He slides into you with ease, one hand on the small of your back and the other swiping the blood off your shoulder. He brings his hand up to his lips and licks his hand slowly, slamming into you harder when the taste of your blood hits his tongue again.
You were too busy gripping the sheets and moaning into his pillow to care, more than happy to give him food and a good lay. The sting was still there of course, but you could always tell at him later. Simon leans over you, holding himself up with his arms before latching on to your shoulder again. He cums hard when he does, actually whimpering against your skin from everything he was feeling both in his mouth and on his cock.
He licks your skin clean, kissing you messily enough to get you to taste your own blood before he pulls away and pulls out to clean you up and have a lengthy conversation about vampires.
