#tradgedyasks

[tradgedyinwaves]

i think an interesting idea is simon distancing himself from reader (wife, partner, spouse , etc) because of Soaps death and it just causing an absolute rift in their relationship. He doesn’t want to be hurt by being close to anyone, but your still try to keep your relationship and doing all the work until you just snap

LOVE YOUR FICS AND HEADCANONS BTW sending love 💕

AHHHHHHHH! My first ANON! Love and mushrooms to you, my dear!

I love this idea and it spoke to me on a personal level. Thank you for suggesting this. Also made me have to do some research on Scottish funeral traditions.

Simon had been the one to stand guard over Johnny’s body during the week long wake watching, only allowing someone else to take up the mantel when he needed to use the restroom. You brought him food and water, insisted he let someone else take over so he could get a little sleep, but he never let you sway him.

He didn’t cry or mourn. He just…shut down. He went through the motions. Kissing you when you left for work, a mumbled “love you too” at the end of a call, sharing your bed but never touching you.

You put in the work. Texting him know when you’d be late, cooking dinner, supplying him with endless whiskey, and letting him know you were there for him when he was ready. You even went so far as offering your body to use in an effort to get anything out of him, but it didn’t work. Nothing did.

When he starting sleeping on the couch most nights, you found yourself with wet pillows and the blanket curled around you in an effort to mimic the way his body would keep you warm at night. You missed your boyfriend and it never seemed to get better.

A year later and you finally hit your breaking point when he left on a deployment without telling you and wouldn’t answer your calls or texts. It required a call to Price to see what was going on. He confirmed that they were shipping out for a week, and you muttered a thanks before ending the call. Price’s eyes narrowed on his lieutenant before flipping back to his phone with a sigh.

When Simon returned and stepped over the threshold of your shared flat, he found it empty with a note on the table.

“Staying with Julia. Be back soon.”

No date. No signature. He tried your phone and you let it ring out to voicemail. Ignored his texts while you and Julia sipped girly drinks in the VIP section of a high class club that a friend of Julia’s had gotten you into. Maybe a little drinking would let you loosen up and forget your troubles for a while.

When Simon showed up halfway through your third cosmopolitan, you could hardly believe it. One, because he never showed up to anything outside of work. Two, this wasn’t a place you normally went to and you wondered how he managed to find you. Probably a tracker of some sort if you knew the man at all.

Even the bouncers didn’t stop him as he entered the VIP area and wrapped his gloved hand around your arm and hauled you from the seat, dragging you outside while you tried to escape his grasp and Julia yelled drunkenly for him to stop. He tossed you in the car and you fumed the entire way home, tears of anger silently slipping down your cheeks.

You tried to slam the door in his face as you entered the flat, his palm stopping the swinging wood from smacking him.

“How dare you? You think you can just show up and drag me out of there like I belong to you?!” “You do.” The audacity he had in even uttering those two words to you made you snap.

“The hell I do! It’s been a year of you ignoring me and treating me like I don’t matter! And you just come home from deployment and suddenly, you think you can lay any kind of claim to me?!”

You ripped open the closet door, pulling down your suitcase and began stuffing it with your clothes. The one suitcase wouldn’t be enough for all of your things, but it would be enough for a week.

“Luv, please. I’m sorry. I-I’ll do better.” His voice sounded raw, cracking with emotion he rarely showed. It almost made you falter in your rage. Almost.

“No, Simon. You don’t get to be sorry. I was there. You weren’t the only one who lost him, but you’re the only one who hasn’t moved on.” Your words were harsh, mean almost, but they rang true. Even Johnny’s sister had moved on, honoring him in naming her son after the boisterous Scot.

“I can’t keep waiting around for you to come back to me. I’m done, Simon.”

[tradgedyinwaves]

angst of having to find out Soap your husband died while pregnant with you twins who he didn’t know about before he went on deployment

🫣

Oh god, mah heart! I'm going to let you know, I sobbed writing this. how dare you suggest something to break my heart? i love the suggestions. they make me write outside of my comfort zone.

Johnny had deployed six weeks ago. It wasn't uncommon for him to be gone for months at a time. Usually, he was able to check in here and there, but long stretches of silence weren't out of the norm either.

You had put together a little basket of goodies to surprise your husband, Johnny, with the fact that he was going to be a father of not one, but two bairns. The basket sat prettily on the counter in your home, making you smile as you rubbed your belly. You weren't showing yet, but it wouldn't take long with twins.

It was late at night when there was a knock at the door. You knew it wasn't Johnny. He wouldn't bother with knocking on his own front door. Shuffling over to the door with your robe wrapped tightly around you, you cracked it open to see the other three members of Johnny's team.

"No." The word was out of your mouth faster than you could comprehend. They were there without your Johnny which could only mean one thing.

Your legs wobbled and your hand shot to your belly, covering the space where your babes were growing. Your eyes stared wide and watery at Price who stood there clutching his boonie hat in his hands as if it was the only thing holding him together.

Your vision was starting to darken, the edges blackening as you fainted.

Price caught you before you hit the ground, bringing you into living room where all of you had watched a rugby match or two with the jovial Scot who was no longer with them.

When you woke, you were laying on your couch with a bottle of water across from you on the coffee table. Price was sitting next to it while Kyle sat at the kitchen table. Simon...Simon was staring at the basket on the counter like he was willing it to not exist, to not be true.

Sitting up, you grabbed the water bottle and chugged half of it before holding it in your hands as you rested your elbows on your knees.

"H-How?" you asked, voice cracking as you crinkled the water bottle between your hands.

"Dove, you know we can't tell yo-" Price began, swallowing hard as he mirrored your position.

Standing from your seat, you slammed down the water bottle on the floor, anger presiding over your sadness as you stood in front of Price and interrupted his sentence.

"Bullshit! Jonathan Price, you tell me exactly how my husband died! You owe me that much." Your voice shook with your rage, the outburst drawing Kyle's attention while Simon flinched. Tears burned down your cheeks as you held Price's gaze.

With a sigh, Price recounted their mission with as little detail as he could get away with while you retook your seat on the couch. "He saved my life. I-I owe him and you everything. I will do whatever I can to help you."

"Oh, so you're going to help me take care of two mini Johnny's when you couldn't bring the original home safe?" you're voice sounded dead and you knew your words were unfair. Price stared at you, never hearing such awful things come from Johnny's sweet wife.

"We all will." Simon finally spoke, coming into the kitchen. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes and you nodded, feeling the true weight of the situation.

You were shattered and had about eight months to piece yourself back together. When they left, swearing to come back in the morning, you stayed in the living room, unable to face the bed you shared with the love of your life. You were essentially a zombie as you moved throughout your apartment.

You almost threw the pretty basket away before you saw a glint of something metal laying over the edge.

Johnny's tags.

[tradgedyinwaves]

the 141 boys forgetting you on a mission and your boyfriend (one of the boys) has to live without you, being gone or held captive for a year, only to come home for them to think you died and now is with someone else 🫣

-🫶

So the way I'm reading this is that reader was held captive (or gone for a long time for some reason) and the 141 boy moved on? That's what I'm going to work with. I apologize if I misunderstood the ask.

A year. A year you had wasted away, saving any strength you had for your escape and waiting for your captors to make a mistake. In the first few months, your only reason for hanging on was your boyfriend, Kyle. The two of you had only been together for six months and unfortunately, you came with a bad habit of running when things got hard.

That's what he'd thought happened. When his calls stopped going through and his texts were left undeliverable, he thought you'd left for good. Couldn't handle him being gone for long periods with possibly no contact, so you bolted.

He moved on in time. Sure, he was heartbroken at first, but your relationship hadn't been strong to begin with. Yet, you still held on to the hope that he'd show up, save you with his team in tow. But that hope dwindled the longer you sat in the dark, dingy room.

You were underground, you knew that much. You'd learned their patterns and routines. So, when you finally managed to break free, killing the guard that brought your dinner and managing to sneak past everyone else except one who got a good hit in with a blade to your side.

And when you knocked on his door - broken, bleeding mess that you were - he'd welcome you with open arms and apologies that he'd not found you.

Or so you thought.

"Kyle..." you breathed his name once the door opened, leaning against the wall next to it while you clutched your side in pain.

"You-what happened?" Kyle asked, eyes immediately taking in your beaten form and reaching for you in response.

"Babe, who is it?" a female voice called from further inside his apartment, the sound of her footsteps coming closer.

Your eyes widened and you stumbled backwards away from the door. "You didn't even look for me, did you?" You gasped, feeling as though the air had been ripped from your lungs.

The beautiful woman that attached herself to his side as she came to the door stared down at you like you were disgusting. "Who's this, baby?" she asked him, sickly sweet voice and manicured hand laying on his chest.

Your eyes were hard as you stared back at the lovely couple before you, eyes flicking up to meet his. "Don't worry about it. I'm no one." and you turned from him, hobbling down his porch stairs even while he called your name.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Hiiii, so I'm dealing with a roughy rn. And wanted to ask if maybe you could do one of Soap helping reader through the loss of their pregnancy. If you're comfortable with that of course!

I'm sorry you're dealing with a roughy. I hope this helps.

TW: Miscarriage, loss of a child, Authors Note: I have never experienced this pain, but I do have a child of my own that I would burn the world down for. I used my own imaginings to create this, so if it is not quite right, then I apologize.

The loss of your child burned through you like a wildfire, destroying your insides. At least, that was how it felt. It was an all consuming pain that never seemed to ease.

Johnny, your best friend, was there through every second of the miscarriage, holding you tight as you screamed through the pain. His own heart felt like it had been torn to shreds, raw with emotions as he listened to your sobs.

He had no clue what to do, at a complete loss of how to help. He didn't speak much, knowing he'd never been good at finding the right words. But he knew how to care for you.

Once you were back from the hospital after making sure you were physically alright, he'd tucked you into bed just the way he knew you liked. For a long time, he just held you while you flipped between sobbing and sleeping.

Eventually, he had to make sure you ate, bringing back soups and broths, tea, and medicine for the physical pain that still lingered. He was there every step of the way.

You needed a punching bag for your anger? He was there. Needed to be held while sobs tore from your lungs? He was there.

He was the only reason you were still alive. Not because you wanted to die (you absolutely did), but because you were numb, a zombie. A shell of the person you were before.

Oh so slowly, he brought you back to yourself. Eventually, you showered on your own. Eventually, you were able to look in the mirror without hating yourself. Eventually, the pain didn't sear through you at every moment of the day.

Now, it sat on the back burner, simmering so low you'd think the burner was off, but will still single your fingers should you touch it. You visit the pain every year on what would have been your child's birthday, celebrating your precious angel baby with your best friend by your side.

He was just happy to see your eyes light up again.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Ok, this might be weird or I'm weird. Who knows.

But some sort of primal play and petpay w reader Ghost-owner!Price and Soap-owner!Gaz

Like leashes puzzles, mitts, reader gets tucked six-ways-to-Sunday🤭

Soap beeing to eager and stuff.

Go crazy🩷

I really love your writing😘

-🏇🏻

I'm going to start this off by saying I know almost nothing about any kind of primal or pet play. Hope you enjoy! (partially inspired by another writer)

tw: orgasm denial, bondage, caging, pet play, dp

When you were led into Price's bedroom, you were met with quite the sight.

Ghost was caged, sitting in the kennel with his wrists and knees bound together, naked as the day he was born. A soft gag was in his mouth as he let out a pathetic whimper.

Soap, though. Soap was seated in a chair next to Ghost, secured to said seat with handcuffs and rope, naked as well. But the most interesting thing was the muzzle keeping his jaw shut.

A hand came up to hold your jaw facing them, gentle but firm.

"Would you like to help us teach them a lesson, pet?" Price rumbles into your ear, low and gravely.

"You see, love. These two mutts thought they could play and we wouldn't find out. So now they get to watch while we give our perfect little bunbun here all the pleasure they wanted to take for themselves," Gaz explained quietly, dragging the backs of his knuckles down your arm.

A shiver ran down your spine before Gaz placed his hands on your upper arms and led you to the bed. Price stepped away to check their pups bindings which only had Soap whimpering and whining, tugging at his cuffs and ropes.

Gaz removed the pretty dress you'd donned for your date with your owners, letting the soft fabric pool on the floor before tossing you onto the bed for a very long evening.

By the time you were speared on Price's lap with his thick cock stretching your little cunt to the limit, Gaz had worked his length into your guts and the two were now pistoning into you at opposite times.

It was the fullest you'd ever been and you were sobbing into Price's shoulder from the intensity of all the sensations battering your used body. You could already feel your fourth orgasm of the night building inside you, the coil tightening impossibly in your belly.

Ghost sat in his cage, cock leaking as he watched his owner plow into your sweet heat. His eyes were glued to the way you stretched around him. Soap on the other hand was a whimpering whining mess. He wanted to be in your position and also be the one rutting into your perfect body.

When your orgasm crashed through you and you let out the most beautiful cries, Soap growled in his muzzle as his cock began pumping out his own release. Oh, he'd have to pay for that. Ghost was a good boy now, gritting his teeth as he fought the urge to follow in Soap's steps. Averting his eyes, knuckles pushed into the floor of his cage so hard he thought he might crush them.

It only took a few more pumps before your owners were bullying all the way into you as they emptied their balls into your used holes.

Gaz moved first, pulling out and sitting back on his haunches to watch his cum drip over Price's balls and onto the bed. His attention turned to Soap and tsked. "Looks like you need to go in the crate, boy." Soap shook his head before hanging it in defeat, knowing he'd messed up.

Price took his time offering you the comfort and solace you needed in the aftermath of such a ruthless fucking. Meanwhile, Gaz released Ghost, fingers looped into the collar around the behemoth's neck as he ushered his own pet into the crate. He locked Soap in, still covered in his own mess

"Ghost here was such a good boy, Cap. Think he deserves a reward, hm?" Gaz's attention looked down at the man and scratched under his chin. Price looked up over your head as he held you to his chest, hands soothing up and down your back even while his cock stayed buried inside you.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the state of his pup, a wicked grin moving under his mustache. "Here, mutt," Price called to Ghost, who eagerly came to the side of the bed on all fours. Price reached up and patted your ass, a gesture Ghost knew to mean 'mount'.

Coming up behind you, you felt the weight of his hands on your hips as he practiced the highest level of control he knew. It wouldn't end well for him if he just thrust into you as hard as he could, so he took it slow, filling you inch by inch.

You let out a soft sound, burying your face into Price's neck. Once Ghost was fully seated, hips flush against your ass, Price held up a hand to stop him from beginning to fuck into you. "Cum, boy. Fill her up."

Ghost's eyes widened slightly before the wall came crumbling down and he started to shoot rope after rope of his cum into your used hole. His body curled over yours as he did, chest flush against your back as you whined softly.

These days always ended in a massive cuddle pile, curled up under the blankets with your face pressed into Ghost's chest with Price at his back. Soap would normally be at your back with Gaz on the other side, but the poor man was still serving his punishment. Caged, muzzled and left naked.

Don't worry. He'll get let out...eventually.

I'm not super impressed with this but I hope you enjoy!

[tradgedyinwaves]

ooo buddy. this was an awesome challenge to write as a female. I hope I did it justice for you. Tried to stick to gender neutral as best I could.

love and mushrooms, boo. 🍄

Stepping into the flat you shared with your military boyfriend, you slid off the way-too conservative loafers you were required to wear to the office, storing them next to your favorite platform boots. Immediately, your hand found the black locks on top of your head and mussed them up, making them stand on end in some places, but relieving you of the final constraints of your job.

Nimble fingers began undoing the buttons of the maroon dress shirt you wore, revealing more ink than skin while you untucked it from your black slacks. You loved your job, but having to show up looking like any other corporate jerk made your skin crawl (you left the multiple piercings in as a 'fuck you' to the system).

When you finally made your way to the bedroom, you found your boyfriend unpacking his duffel from his most recent mission. A soft sigh of relief left your lips as he turned to you with open arms.

"Come here, luv, I missed you," John beckoned, smiling warmly, making his mustache curl with his lips. You stepped forward and melted into his chest, arms wrapping around his body in a crushing hug while your face nuzzled into his neck. You could smell the gunpowder and stale scent of cigars on him, but it only made you melt further into him.

"Why don't you get changed and I'll work on dinner, hm?" he continued, pulling back only slightly to look down at you with those sparkling blue eyes of his.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, you were dressed more in your own style. A black tank hung over your upper body and was accompanied by one of John's ratted old jackets from his early years in the military. Your tattoos peaked out under the fabric every where from your chest and neck to your calves.

The baggy cargo shorts you slid on sat low on your waist, weighed down by the phone in your pocket. Your hair was wet, laying in a shaggy, black mess on top of your head. Rings and bracelets adorned your fingers and wrists, ready to be worn through the weekend while a thin ring of liner surrounded your eyes.

Coming up behind John at the stove, you wrapped your arms around his middle again, pressing your cheek to the middle of his expansive back. "I love you," you mumbled against his body, the words barely discernible, but John had almost perfect hearing thanks to always being prepared with earplugs.

Placing the ladle down on the resting dish, John turned in your arms and cupped your jaw before pressing his lips to yours. You welcomed the affection, opening yourself to him in earnest. His mustache tickled your nose, but after a year together, you'd learned how to ignore it.

When he pulled back, he tested his forehead against yours and stayed silent a moment, relishing in the quite space. "I love you too, my love," he mumbled back, pulling you in for another crushing hug. ""More than anything."

He pulled back to look down at you, bringing his hand up to pinch your chin as he smiled down at you. "There you are, looking much more like you." He stole another kiss before peppering them over your cheeks, over your jaw, and down your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you.

Your head tilted back, giving him free range of your throat while his meaty hands gripped your hips and pulled you tighter to him. The two of your were lost in your own world until you heard something singe on the burner.

Looking over his shoulder, you groaned, seeing the stew starting to boil over, and tapped him on the opposite shoulder. "John, baby, the stew," you said with an edge of frustration, feeling as though the stew did it on purpose to make him leave you.

With a laugh, he pulled away and turned back to the stove, turning down the heat and stirring it. His free hand never left your hip, holding you to his side. He brushed a light kiss to your temple before you heard his rumbling voice ghosting over your ear.

"I'll make it up to you later, promise."

[tradgedyinwaves]

physically unwell with the first choice series. the tension is absolutely immaculate! if you you ever have a taglist for it please add me skmaldnskaldns

oh my god, i'm so sorry this took so long to look at. Apparently, the Tumblr app doesn't wanna tell me when I have asks/messages.

I'm glad you're enjoying it! I don't currently have a taglist but I will definitely add you to it if I ever do.

[tradgedyinwaves]

hi! I just wanted to say I was a comment on part ten of the poly 141 series, and I wanted to apologize for any grammar errors! I don’t want to be out of the context, English is my third language and I’m trying to learn it better. I just wanted to say how much I like your writing! I also don’t know if this is the right way to speak to you, please let me know if not!

HI! You're completely fine! That's awesome that you've learned so many languages and especially English. I know it's difficult to learn.

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoy it!

Through here or in private message is alright with me! It's more up to you on whether you'd like your messages with me to be private or public. This way is public as the only way for me to answer is by posting it to my blog.