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#lieutenant asshole
heyclickadee · 1 year
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Things about "The Outpost" that are still killing me:
1. That airstrip was huge. And by the time we see Mayday and Crosshair on it they've been walking across it for a while, at the rate they’re going. The TK troopers don't see them at first, but once they do, they gather, see this:
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These two men, barely on their feet, clearly in pain, one of them unable to keep holding on to his crutch anymore, staggering towards them inch by inch, looking towards them for help--not a single one of the TK troopers offers any kind of assistance whatsoever. No one calls for a medic, no one rushes forward to carry Mayday. They all just stand there and watch. And when Nolan tells them to go, they do, because they probably don't see the clones that differently than Nolan does.  
Yeah, Lieutenant Nolan is an asshole. He went from, "I'm probably going to dislike this guy," to, "LOATHE," in my book with a single line. He's a pathetic officer-wannabe who genuinely thinks of the clones as machinery he can push around and direct how he likes. He doesn't see the problem with kicking around someone like Mayday--someone who technically outranks him, I think--or the danger inherent in goading someone like Crosshair, because he doesn't see either of them as reasoning, emotion-having people who may just retaliate if pushed far enough. He's a snake and he deserved what he got. But his malice is more than matched by the TK troopers' apathy.
2. The way that there's ice and snow frozen to Crosshair's armor on the landing strip, and the fact that Mayday can't quite make it to the end of the tarmac, nor is Crosshair able to continue carrying him. They're both so cold and tired. They've both hit their physical limit and it would have been enough if anyone had cared to help.
3. Crosshair is--literally--stripped of everything that marks him as an imperial soldier or a soldier at all by the end of the episode, and most of it is stuff he casts aside himself. His CT number (in a way, when he gives Mayday his name), his helmet that he doesn't even look for (there as SO MANY good helmet metas out there, so I'm not going to get into it), his rifle (which he gives to Mayday to use as a crutch and doesn't retrieve when Mayday drops it), his backpack (I'm guessing it got too heavy so he threw it away to keep carrying Mayday), and even his armor, reflection mirror...sticker...things, and sidepiece (all of which are taken from him after he blacks out. I'm not real happy about the fact that the scientists at Mount Tantiss changed his clothes while he was unconscious). Of course, the last few function a little bit differently than they first ones do. The CT number, the helmet, the rifle, and I guess (?) even the backpack (though to a much lesser extent) are all Crosshair intentionally putting his imperial identity aside in order to help someone he sees as a brother and re-humanizing himself in the process. The last couple--the armor, the sidepiece--that's the writers telling us how vulnerable Crosshair is in his current situation.
4. The SNOW and the way it interacted with the CHARACTERS was just *chef's kiss* Credit to Joel Aron and the effects department, you guys knocked it out of the park.
5. Likewise, while I'm really glad The Bad Batch does list the names of the animators at CGCG who worked on each episode in the credits (because guess what--not every animated show does this. Sometimes they just list the name of the studio), I really want to know which animators were responsible for animating Crosshair this time around. Or at least Crosshair's shots, since the way I think it often works is that an animator will be assigned a series of shots and be responsible for animating everyone in those shots, because oh boy, was that a performance. Crosshair's animation has always been standout, I think partly (partly) because he's a character that doesn't actually talk that much, and says stuff he doesn't mean at least half the time, so there has to be a certain level of clarity and nuance in his performance for the character comes across the way the writers intend (and partly because being an ultra-expressive but taciturn bundle of emotions is a big part of Crosshair as a person). But the team working on this episode took something that was already great and kicked it up another level.
6. I want to know if Jennifer Corbett, the board artists, layout artists, the other writers, the directors, and others high-fived each other when they came up with the ice vulture symbolism and the rock-wings shot. I want to know if they knew we'd go crazy over it.
7. Mayday. Literally everything about Mayday. Mayday my beloved. *cries*
8. The look on Crosshair's face when he's about to pass out and sees the TK troopers coming still messes me up, because it's the closest thing we've gotten to a real smile (one that actually reaches his eyes) pretty much since he was teasing Echo in the med bay in "Aftermath." Crosshair's someone who's come across as to me passively suicidal since the moment he turned around after the droid fight in "Return to Kamino" and saw Hunter and the rest pointing their guns at him. Passively--meaning that he's not going to actually do anything, that he doesn't actually want to die, he’ll survive however he can, but that he's not exactly planning for the future, either. He'll just keep doing what he's doing until it (almost definitely) kills him. And. I mean. Crosshair's not stupid. He knows what killing Lieutenant Nolan means for him. I'm not saying that Crosshair didn't expect to wake up afterwards, or that he wanted to not wake up, but I am saying that he did decide that avenging Mayday and defying the Empire in whatever small way he could was worth dying for. And that he was very, very tired.
9. I'm so! Glad! That Crosshair's growth wasn't centered around Omega, Wrecker, Tech, Hunter, or Echo. We already know that he cares about them. Showing us the lengths he'll go to help a relative stranger instead and making that his breaking point does so much more to tell us that he's grown.
10. The thing that sticks with me most, though, is the fact that this episode wasn't just sad. It wasn't just unrelenting tragedy, or even like "The Solitary Clone," where overriding emotion of the whole episode is despair. I mean, yes, this episode is sad. It's tragic. You have Lieutenant Nolan's cruelty, you have the malice of the Empire, you have the apathy of the TK troopers, the dehumanization of the clones, the soul-crushing way in which Mayday and Crosshair find out that the clones were always going to be replaced, that inevitability, the futility (on one level) struggle that ends in Mayday's death. 
But it's not just that. There's warmth, too. There's camraderie and a little bit of humor. Mayday, a survivor starting to see how pointless it all was, and Crosshair, who's so desperate for companionship at this point that he'd pack bond with a rock, snark back and forth at each other a little bit like old friends. Heck, this is the episode where we get the most profound act of compassion we've seen in the show so far. Mayday didn't have to disarm that mine and save Crosshair, but he did, and it matters. No, Mayday didn't make it, but Crosshair carried him through a blizzard for two days and made sure he didn't get left behind or die alone, even if he couldn't save him, and that matters. Yes, Crosshair's a prisoner now, but he chose to avenge Mayday, grab hold of his own humanity again, and told the Empire where to stuff it, and that matters. Kindness and defiance have their own meaning, even if they don't change the outcome. But the fact that this episode is more than just sad is, I think, why it's so harrowing in the first place.
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 year
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Akshully..... Shows you my Gabriel doodles...
!!!!! THEM!!! THEY!!
I love how you draw them for real-
Gender..........
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meganebutterflyrei · 1 year
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I can’t believe I’m saying this but….that POS lieutenant was so awful he actually made me miss RamFart 😕
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Jim Rockford, True Man of Action
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Man of many passions: Justice, Women, Fishing, Tacos...
He's also an avid fan of hamburgers, hotdogs, and of course, cooking fish on an open flame, such as a barbecue.
He's even known to be distracted from important conversation by a missing condiment, like mustard. He often spills coffee on himself in the course of the most ordinary functions of his trade.
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dante-mightdie · 3 months
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simon being a toxic asshole with his captain’s daughter <33
price doesn’t even know that his lieutenant visits his home on his leave. Isn’t even aware that when he’s on the phone to you, simon riley is showering in the next room after splitting you open on his fat cock
simon riley is a bad man. horrible, even. respects his captain more than anything. would lay down his life for the old man. they’ve fought together, laughed together, cried and mourned together…
but you? you’re nothing to him. yeah, you’re price’s kid but that’s it. he’d never hurt you, sure. would protect you if your life was in danger. but only because his captain loves you and cares for you
uses you and throws you away everytime. leaves you sniffling and feeling sorry for yourself each time he harshly rejects your advances for any affection. gripping your wrist tightly when you try to touch him or squeezing your jaw to prevent your lips meeting his
“don’t do tha’, don’t want any of tha’ romance bullshit from you.”
when the lads come to visit the house and johnny lets slip about the recruit simon has been bedding in the barracks on deployment, everyone misses the look of absolute devastation that makes its way onto your face
except simon. he notices it but he just quite simply doesn’t care
when he leaves the guest room that price set up for him to use the toilet, he walks past your cracked open door and peeks in to see you curled up against your father’s chest, sobbing into his pajama shirt
“sshhh, love… don’t cry over some stupid lad. not worth the fuss, darlin’…” he coos in your ear, making simon roll his eyes and continue on in his side quest. clearly, you went crying to your dad after finding out that simon was shagging other women
and judging from the fact that price hadn’t laid him out yet, you didn’t mention the ‘lad’ was his best soldier
pulls his phone from his tracksuit bottoms and scrolls down to your unsaved number in his phone, tapping out a message
‘telling on me to your dad? crybaby’
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simonsslut · 7 months
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meeting simon in the army.
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18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist
wc: around 4.8k
cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.
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Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.
a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.
you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.
soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.
Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.
you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).
maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.
Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.
however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.
maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?
simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.
"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."
a shared opinion.
he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.
you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.
you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.
you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.
it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.
"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.
you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.
after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.
3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.
and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.
3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.
sort of.
simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.
neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.
or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.
what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.
but that's probably because you were so oblivious.
you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.
you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?
the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?
when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.
what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.
but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.
he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.
"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"
he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.
"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.
"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.
"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."
you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.
"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.
but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.
because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."
you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.
"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.
it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.
"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.
though you, of course, take it as a joke.
"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.
the hell does that even mean?
luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.
maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.
you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.
you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.
you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.
so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.
you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.
"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.
"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.
he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.
he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?
you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.
you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.
you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.
he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.
silence.
why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??
"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"
the air is thick.
you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.
"may I?"
you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.
you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.
he's not wearing the glove.
his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?
"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.
'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.
"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.
he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.
you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.
but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.
you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.
ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.
he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.
he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.
it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.
when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.
there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.
you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.
you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.
you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.
"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.
silence.
"simon." he stops.
"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.
after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.
he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.
"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.
"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.
he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.
he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.
he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.
you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.
he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.
"you gon' let me do this?"
the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.
this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.
he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.
you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.
you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.
you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.
you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.
he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.
he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.
his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.
he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.
he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.
he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.
"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.
"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.
you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.
he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.
you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.
he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.
he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.
he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.
he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.
you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.
he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.
his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.
your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.
he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.
your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.
he's close and so are you.
your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.
your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.
he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.
the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.
you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.
he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.
he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.
now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.
you just fucked your lieutenant.
he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."
you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.
you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.
"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.
you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.
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horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!
simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.
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rileyslibrary · 10 months
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The team is invited to a wedding. You and Ghost are trying to pass time.
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You walk down the candlelit path leading to the wedding reception, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in your arms. A friendly usher welcomes you with a warm smile and extends his hands, offering to take the package from you. As you hand it over, a hostess greets you politely and asks for your name. You introduce yourself, and she scans her clipboard.
Your gaze is drawn to the chateau in the distance, which appears to have been plucked from a fairytale. Questions about its history and the people who once called it home fill your mind. Who used to live here? And who is generous enough to offer its premises for newlyweds to host their wedding receptions? How old is this place, anyway?
“Fourteen,” the hostess says.
“Excuse me?”
She takes a look at the clipboard before returning her gaze to you. “You’re seated at table 14.” She repeats.
You nod and walk to the garden to find your seat. Like the chateau, the dining area outside is quite a sight: tables with crisp tablecloths, beautifully decorated with floral arrangements, flickering candles, and elegant glassware.
You spot your table; it’s almost empty, save for a familiar face sitting on one of the chairs. Well, not entirely familiar, as you only see it on special occasions when he is absolutely required to remove his balaclava.
“Nice place,” you quip, and he turns to look at you.
“It’s not mine,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to the distance.
You sigh and roll your eyes. “It was a comment about the estate, you asshole.” You explain and take a seat right next to him.
He huffs and points his thumb at the chateau. “That thing is nice?” he retorts, slowly shaking his head. “Not my style.”
“What’s your style?” you ask, hoping to engage him in conversation.
“Something smaller, simpler,” he says, looking at the chateau, “without so many... windows.”
“No windows?” You inquire, raising one eyebrow. “You’re not secretly a vampire, are you, Lieutenant?”
He smirks and rolls up his sleeves. “Me? No,” he murmurs, “but this wedding is sucking the bloody life out of me.”
“Because you were so full of it before,” you say jokingly. “Can’t you be happy for your comrades for once?”
He reclines in his chair, intertwines his fingers, and places his hands on his stomach. “Let’s just say that I could have been even happier for them in the comfort of my own home,” he replies.
You set your clutch bag on the table. “Why didn’t you just stay at home then?” You ask.
“Social obligation,” he explains with a shrug.
You widen your eyes and raise your eyebrows. “Social obligation?” You repeat, a smile forming at the corners of your lips. “That’s something I never expected to hear coming out of your mouth.”
He scoffs and picks up the wedding favour that has been carefully placed on his plate. “Oh, yeah?” He points to the golden letters on the small pistachio-coloured box, “Wait till you hear me say ‘macaron’.” He replies sarcastically, attempting to pull off a fake French accent.
You playfully put the back of your hand on your forehead, pretending to be fainting. Simon smiles and leans back in his chair, repositioning the box on the table.
“The others?” You ask, “They’re not here yet?”
He scans the area with his eyes slowly before pointing in the distance. “There’s Price talking to the couple...” he looks over his shoulder and motions towards the bar, “...and Soap is waiting for his drink.”
“What about Gaz?” You ask.
“The Sargent was talking to the maid of honour a little while ago. They could be testing the stability of the century-old furniture in there,” he speculates, looking up at the top floor of the chateau.
Your mouth drops open. “Diana, the medic?” You yell.
He presses his index finger to his lips. “Shh!” He whispers sternly.
You apologise, then place your hand over your mouth and whisper, “Diana, the medic?!”
“Oh, please,” he sneers, “as if you didn’t notice how they greet each other at the base.”
“I had no idea!” You reply, surprised.
“Well, maybe if you stopped talking so much and started paying more attention to your surroundings, you’d notice things a little bit more.”
You stick your tongue out at him and mock his statement. He smiles and gently nudges your leg with his.
“You wore heels.” He comments, looking down at your feet.
“I did,” you confirm, “and what of it?”
He clears his throat, smirks, and shifts his gaze to the horizon.
“What?” You repeat.
“Nothing.” He responds, and his smile broadens.
“Tell me!” You command and crack a smile.
His shoulders move up and down as he suppresses his laughter. He’s thoroughly enjoying watching you beg for an answer. You pinch his arm, and he groans.
“Hey,” he says between laughs, grabbing your wrist to stop you. He gestures towards the distance, where the maid of honour walks to the front of the stage, explaining something to the DJ while instinctively fixing her hair.
“I wonder how long it will be before Kyle appears.” You mumble.
Ghost turns around. “Not long,” he says, motioning towards the bar. You turn to face Soap, straightening Gaz’s tie.
“You think MacTavish knows?” You ask.
“Soap?” Ghost asks, shaking his head. “Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Look at him,” he orders. “Would he be so focused on fixing Gaz’s tie if he knew? On the contrary, he’d be bugging him for details.”
You place your hand on his shoulder and lean closer to his ear. “Yes, but we know about their secret endeavours,” you whisper, “what do we say to him?”
He tightens his grip on your wrist and widens his eyes. “We say fuck all,” he replies sternly. “I told you, observe more and talk less.”
“Oh, unless you get to gossip with one of your teammates instead?” You tease.
“I’m not gossiping!” He protests. “Gossiping involves judging other people’s life choices.”
You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. “And what is it that you do, Lieutenant?”
He shrugs. “People-watching.” He states.
“People-watching.” You repeat.
He gives a nod. “And I guarantee you,” he murmurs, “that someone here is doing the exact same thing to us: watching us laughing, me pushing your leg, looking at your heels, you pinching my arm, whispering in my ear. Do you think we’re the only ones who keep an eye on others?”
You blush and look around, hoping to spot the perpetrator who will prove Ghost’s theory.
“You mean to tell me that other people are watching us and think we’re flirting?” you ask, embarrassed.
“Aren’t we?” He smirks.
You blush even more and sit up straight. “Yeah,” you admit with a smile, “we are.”
———————————————————————
A/N: Thank you to that anon who inspired me yesterday. I may have written half of the story while at the wedding reception. 😬
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ceilidho · 4 months
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asshole condescending lieutenant price…..talking down to you because he thinks a pretty thing like you should be at home (he’s an awful man) (need him)
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simpforrooster · 5 months
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actually, it’s captain.
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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
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konigsblog · 6 months
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simon riley and his fetishes. MDNI
SIZE KINK – he adores the size difference, especially when it comes to your hands in comparison to his large and calloused ones. wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing it tightly enough to get a reaction from you. he drives his thick shaft in and out your sloppy pussy, watching you grip his wrist tightly while he ploughs and thrusts into you. you cry, whimpering at the burn in your tight hole. simon's large hand wrapping around your thigh, running his hands up to your waist.
has a fascination with your waist. wrapping his hands around it while bucking into you. forcing you to watch yourself get fucked silly, the size difference prominent and clear when you see him thrust into you roughly.
POWER PLAY – simon loves to make you feel vulnerable. you should be a good girl, you're a private, he's a lieutenant... are you forgetting who's in charge here? bending you over your desk while you bite your pencil, his veiny dick stuffed into your asshole, roughly pounding into you while you moan his name through breathless whines.
‘SIR’ KINK – like i said, he loves making you feel vulnerable, he loves being in charge. he especially adores when you moan out ‘sir’ while he fucks you in a spooning position. grinding against you sloppily, until he hears your mewls. “oh, please, sir..” you whimper out, his eyes widening and his eyebrows furrowing as he begins slamming against your tight ass. gripping your throat harshly and ramming and rutting against your ass, his dick eased and slid into your wet, slick pussy.
PET PLAY – again, he loves being in charge. being an owner for his pup, locking you in the cage and pushing your hips up into doggy style. your cunt drooling and weeping, clit raw, his big dick stuffed into your tight asshole. his greedy dog fucking themself back into him, ass bouncing against his broad hips. absolutely loves collars. guiding you through a blowjob while his thumb is hooked into your collar. watching you swallow his thick cock greedily, whimpering around his girthy shaft. “good work, pup.”
HUMILATION – simon can't get enough of those pretty, glossy eyes looking up at him when he humilates you. he won't hesitate to slap you across the face with his large hand, falsely cooing at you for sobbing. loves to record and throat fuck you; gagging sounds, embarrased and bashful facial expression and eyes wet. spurting cum into your face and forcing you to watch the footage back afterwards.
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babygirl-riley · 7 months
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i need jealous / possessive / protective ghost plssss :)
Only Mine
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Simon watches as a new recruit takes interest in you. Even though you both are married (secretly of course) He still needs to let you know who you belong to.
A/N: omg we LOVE possessive jealous Simon. 🤭 Might write one that doesn’t have smut but listennnn it’s a good.
“Are you really here to cast me off? Or maybe just to turn me on.”
Warnings: jealous!simon, husband!simon, wife!reader, smut, rough sex, semi-public sex, just a little choking, basically a quickie, fluff, squint for the angst, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader smut list
God the way your body started to ache in such a numbing good way, as you gripped the bars of Simon’s bed. You didn’t really expect your day to turn out like this. Simon, your secret husband, dragged you to his room without any explanation. Demanding your pants down and pussy out.
Confused yet totally turned on you did what he said. Now it’s just growls and slapping of skin. You are trying to recall the day, what could have possessed the all might Lieutenant Riley to be so riled up.
The last thing you were doing was teaching a recruit how to clean his gun properly. Nice kid, young possibly just joined that’s how young he looked. He made stupid snide jokes to get you laughing but it didn’t peak your interest. You are used to having all the young recruits flirt with you and stare. Until one day they make sure not to even cross paths with you.
Little did you know Simon fucking Riley would be watching from afar. Narrowing in on any recruit who decided to play that game. Make sure he scratches their name down so he could give them heavy drills. Watching them get more and more tired until the end to come up and whisper to them. “Get near my Sargent again and this will be the easiest thing ya ever have to do.”
However there was one time you knew that he did it to one recruit. You were hounding the little asshole about how he almost killed his group during a mission. Simon was to be in the same room due to having a back up if things got out of hand. Simon not once stepped in as voices got raised.
The recruit scoffed as he was being told that he is off the next assignment. Due to not only his previous act but also how the respect was not there for you. The recruit turned to Simon. “Control your bitch.”
Before you could even say anything Simon stood up. “Drills now.” He said lowly as he walked up to him. The recruit didn’t move for a moment staring at Simon dead in the eye. Simon leaned to his face. “Ya do not get to call your Sargent that. Now go before I make ya.”
The recruit looked over at you, which you had your arms folded. “That was an order private.” You said as he stormed out.
Simon had you come and watch and give the orders out to him. Basically like whipping a wild horse to become domesticated. In which this case the private did, he was one of your favorites to have in the field. Made sure everyone listened close and trusted you with his life.
Simon later on that day made sure that you were never going to be talked to like that again. That the next muppet that does would be thrown against the wall, you did have to remind him that your marriage is hidden. Which meant to be careful when to start throwing people around. However you loved the fact that he was protective like that. Making sure you were respected. Cared for.
Even when it was outside of the base, when the team is off on leave. Only Price truly knew that you both are married. So whenever you went on leave Simon went on leave and vise versa. When one of your little leaves you and Simon went to a bar, have some drinks and go home. When Simon went to the bathroom another man came up to flirt with you.
No matter how hard you would give him the no time of day, he kept going. The man would causally try to touch your hand, even when showing him the small ring on your finger he would say, “I don’t see him here.”
You would just smile as Simon stood behind him. “Hello babe.” You would say. At first the man had a smirk ready to face whatever man he was going to face, to only frown realizing that Simon was much larger in size.
Simon glared down at him his mask only showing his eyes. The eyes of warning towards the man. “Betta get going mate. She is here with me. And me only.”
The man scoffed and rolled his eyes as he left. Simon taking his space, you rubbed his back and whispered to him of how you were his. And how he was yours. Possessive was always on Simon, you loved it. You made sure that he felt the same, you even both agreed that you both had that. Wrong look from anyone Simon would give the death glare. Smile at you. Dead to him. Even look at you wrong. Gone.
You seen everything when he got that way. Him saying something to giving them his death looks…This however. Was something you haven’t seen. Simon’s cocked dragged against your walls at such a high speed that you didn’t know what to do. Your mouth dripping with salvia as you gasped and whined as he hit the spot over and over, releasing your second orgasm. “Havin’ him near ya like that,” Simon growled as he reached for your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “You laughing at his jokes, fuck, you think I wouldn’t see that.”
It finally hit you once he said those words. “Si,” You whimpered as you felt his hand squeeze your neck. “Fuck, you know I only belong to you.” You knew that is what he needed to hear, to let him know that you belong only to him.
Simon chuckled. “Is that so,” He questioned snapping his hips harder into you, slowing his pace as he placed his lips next to your ear. “I want you to scream my name as I fuck my cum so deep in ya, that no fucking man in this base will get near you.”
You moaned as he bite your ear. “Show me and the rest of this fuckin’ base who you belong to.”
He pushed you back down pinning your chest to the bed as he slammed his cock into you once more. You screamed as you clenched around his cock feeling the knot start to form. Simon went back to his brutal pace, tears brimmed your eyes as it felt so good yet the overstimulating was becoming too much. You wanted more as he drove harder and harder. You moaned loudly as he started to grip your hips.
“Fuck Simon.” You mumbled looking behind your shoulder. He still had basically everything on, he tore your clothes off once you laid down on this bed.
“Louder.” He demanded combing through your hair. Not stopping his pace.
The noises that filled his room should be illegal. The tiny bed that squeaked, as the metal bar hitting the wall, skin to skin slapping against one another, the wet sound that came from his cock and your pussy, and the moaning god the moaning.
“Simon.” You said louder a whine coming out. Panting started to become faster. “It feels so fucking good!”
He gripped your hair. “Louder!” Simon growled.
Your orgasm was right there and you knew he was right there too, his hips stuttering as he panted. Your body shook as Simon’s fingers went underneath you to play with you clit. “Yesyesyesyesyesyss! Simon! Oh god!” You yelled as your orgasm hit you hard enough to see stars.
You could feel your cum lathering his cock as he growled lowly. “That’s it doll, let them hear you. You belong to me only. fucking. me.” He grunted as his cum filled your hole.
You collapsed against the mattress as Simon moaned as he leaned into you more. Shoving his cock further up into you. It was quiet for a moment, the sound of your breaths steaming. Simon sighed kissing your back, rubbing your sides. He noticed that he gripped your hips hard enough that he knew it would leave marks. It wasn’t his first time, you told him you loved when he would do it occasionally.
You sighed pushing yourself more into him. “You know that I only belong to you. That no one else can have me.” You whispered, moaning with content.
Simon nodded as he kissed the back of your neck. “I know, just gets me riled up to see men touching you. Especially when you laugh at their jokes.”
You chuckled slowly getting up having him take his cock out. You both hissed for a moment before you laid on your back. He hovered over you as you grabbed his cheeks. “Your jokes are the only ones that are truly funny.”
“Including the goldfish in the tanks?” He asked smirking, knowing damn well you hated that one.
You rolled your eyes. “Yes even that one.” You both stare at each for a moment. You inhaled deeply. “You should get jealous more often, it looks good on you Lieutenant.”
Simon scoffed getting up before pulling his pants and boxers on. “Shut it,” You giggled as he handed you your clothes. “Get dressed I have a private to run drills, you should watch.”
Oh, now how you were going to get him more jealous. You just loved the way your body ached for more than what you just got.
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frogchiro · 4 months
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SEE this is what I've been talking about oh my god I want him to put me in a headlock-
Cocky younger Graves who is so mean and nasty to the poor Hackergirl, always mansplaining to her about shit she literally learned as a teen already, always trying to sneak a lil grope here and there and he needs to be chased away by 'resident Lieutenant Asshole' Riley bc he's being mean to you :((
And yes he manspreads too so whenever you want to sit he always offers his lap with a suggestive slight thrust of his strong hips and a toothy smirk saying shit like 'A throne for the princess' ://
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 6 months
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Lt. Gabriel: You're just a little hater.
Sarah looking up: And?
GAHAHAHGDHFBJSKAF YEAHHH REAL
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cod-dump · 6 months
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Ghost and Price work out together often enough. It’s a form of bonding for them, plus Price is a bit bigger and heavier than Soap and Gaz so he felt like more of a challenge to spar with. So, they were sparring. Both of them focused on grabbing the other and throwing them down when they noticed they had an audience.
A group of soldiers were staring at them, ogling them. They were shamefully watching their superior officers like they were pieces of meat. Someone was recording, too, so there was now going to be a video spread amongst everyone of Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley sparring each other. And that video would end up in Soap’s possession and that jealous asshole was going to furious Ghost was choosing to spar with Price over him.
So, he decided to have fun with him.
Ghost tackled Price suddenly, Price grunting as they slam into the mat rather harshly. And Ghost just decided to lay on him.
“Fucking Christ, Simon-!”
“Nap time.”
“SIMON!”
Soap loved when Ghost laid his entire weight onto him. But Price was getting that treatment, and Ghost knows it’ll piss off his boyfriend righteously. Especially since Ghost was doing it in a public space, with Price, while several soldiers watched them. Oh he was going to be so mad.
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lilyarchived · 7 months
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distanced [simon "ghost" riley]
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a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?
warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops
summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.
“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out. 
your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.
you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.
never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.
stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what’s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can. 
you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.
you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.
“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.  
as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.
“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”
he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.
“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”
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a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated
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canon-gabriel-quotes · 2 months
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Transcript -
Gabriel : *heavy breathing and grunting* Bastard. 
Useless bucket of bolts. Yeah, you better run!
Load back to your- Ah shit, that was hard. Load back to your little checkpoint.
Yeah, go ahead. Go P rank the other levels. 
Oh… I’m sorry. Can-can-can I? Excuse me, can I help you?
Columbo : Oh, uh, hi there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.
Uh, I’m looking for somebody. 
Uh, Gabriel is it? Is that you? Is that who I’m lookin for?
Listen, I just gotta say, you did an amazing job uh… Fighting off that uh. 
What’d ya-what’d ya call it?
Uh, you called it a… 
Gabriel : A mere object?
Columbo : That’s right. A mere object. 
Phenomenal work. 
I gotta tell ya. Robots, I don’t trust em myself. 
Ya know, I had-I had this one episode where uh, there was this robot named Rob and uh-
Gabriel : Uh, yes. 
That’s very fascinating, but could you perhaps get on with your introduction? 
Columbo : Uh, certainly. So I’m, uh, I’m lieutenant Columbo. Uh, I’m with the LAPD. Uh, I'm in the homicide department. 
Gabriel : Homicide? You can’t kill a machine. 
Columbo : No no no! Of course not. But um… Well… Ya can certainly love one.
Gabriel : D-d-d-detective I- I don’t- I don’t know what you’re implying there with that statement!
As you can tell I… Despise machines and wouldn’t think about doing so- Loving them, I mean.
Columbo : Yes, of course uh. Absolutely, it’s completely unthinkable. 
Except, well. While I was- while I was over here and I opened this door and uh fourteen- fourteen V1 body pillows fell out. Along with a buncha the plushies. 
Uh, and I just can’t imagine how ya- how ya happened upon something like that by accident.
It’s a little ridiculous! Uh, frankly.
Gabriel : Uh, no no no, listen.  
Detective. I can explain, okay? 
Those belong to- uh! That guy over there! 
*Filth-like scream*
Gabriel : Yeah! A real freak! 
Some kinda pervert. I don’t know why we keep him around.
But uh, I-I have nothing to do with it. 
Columbo : Well, ya see, I would believe- I would believe that, but uh. 
It’s just that- Well we had the boys at the lab run these pillows and we found your cum- We found your DNA all over em, uh.
You’re-You’re under arrest, I’m killing you.
Gabriel : K-hah. Kill me? *laughs*
Oh detective. 
Columbo : Oh. Aw fuck.
Gabriel : I’m afraid you’ve made a grave mistake. 
Because, in fact… What is going to happen instead…
Is actually what I’m gonna- AHHHG MOTHERFUCKER
I’LL FUCKIN KILL YOU
SON OF A BITCH 
AHHG YOU BASTARD
I’LL RIP YOU APART 
PIECE OF SHIT
YOU FUCK
ASSHOLE
BITCH
*Grunting* 
Oh Shit. 
Oh. What have I done? 
V1 : Bro, tell me you didn’t just kill a fucking cop.
Gabriel : The law will be here any second now… 
Machine, flush the drugs.
V1 : No way, bro. Let’s smoke that.
Gabriel : All of it?!?
Hm… One last ride…
Well, alright.
*coughing his lungs out*
V1 : No Gabriel, holding it in doesn’t do anything!
*Gabriel continues to cough his lungs out*
End of transcription
Audio source part 1
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