#CoD MWII

[artistcalledbella]

art prints that I’m the most proud of

[literatecowboy]

What I think bedtime with the 141 would be like

Gaz: gets an A+ in bedtime. After a delicious dinner and some TV time, you’d take turns scrubbing down in the shower before soaking in a hot bath together. You’d get out when the water just starts to cool and towel off, brushing your teeth together and doing your respective skincare and hair care routines before falling into a bed with fresh, soft sheets. You’d snuggle and read together until you started to get sleepy (phones are banned from bed). The white noise machine would get switched on and you’d don your matching eye masks, ready for literally the most restful sleep you’ll ever experience.

Price: after long days, a quick dinner, and quicker showers, you do your bedtime routine while Price gets in bed to read (his is faster than yours). Eventually you make it to bed and Price finishes up reading, pulling you into his arms. He falls asleep immediately holding you like a teddy bear, snoring into your ear while you read under a dim light. When you’re relaxed enough to sleep, you set the book aside and put your headphones on to drown out the snoring. Your movement wakes him up but he’s still groggy, and you reposition to a more comfortable sleeping position. He holds you more loosely this time so that you aren’t as hot when you try to sleep.

Ghost: doesn’t sleep much, but appreciates the bedtime routine you have. Eats dinner with you and joins you in the shower. You wash his hair and he spends the time with his eyes closed on his knees, his body resting against your legs as he relaxes. Watches you do your bedtime routine and, when some remains, allows you to wash the eye black from his face without complaint. Carries you to bed when he feels you’re too stressed over what you’ll look like in the morning. You snuggle up and watch TV together until you fall asleep, when he turns the TV off. Sometimes he can fall asleep - on those nights he stays with you the entire night, always waking before you to ensure breakfast is prepared when you get up. On other nights, when you’re deep asleep, he prowls the house. Watching TV in a quieter part of the house, making a midnight snack, hitting his punching bag in the garage, going for a walk, or reading. He’s always back in bed when you wake on those nights. When he has nightmares, he clings to you for comfort, resting his tear stained cheeks against your heart to reassure himself that it’s still beating.

Soap: bedtime’s #1 fan. Rushes through dinner so he can start his routine. Loves extra long, flaming hot showers with his favorite playlist. Ends his shower with a more tolerable water temperature so you can join him. Sits with you while you do your your bedtime routine while he doodles and writes in his journal. Continues to journal in bed but soon becomes more interested in the video you’re watching. Snuggles up to you and watches your video over your shoulder until he falls asleep

[writingoddess1125]

Waffle House

I am a dumbass

John Price x Pregnant American Reader

Fluffy Stupid Shit

<< Masterlist

This was suppose to be a relaxing trip back to the states before you would be having your baby in 9 weeks.

A 1 week trip back to your spawn point before going back to your home with John and pending the next most likely few years there.

Visiting friends and family members you actually liked- you were excited to spend some time out of the UK. However since you step back on that stretch of land something had hit you.

You were craving something..

It had been fucking terrible, every get together, every outing with friends and family had left you stressed out.

Restless and with a ghost of a craving you couldn't figure out.

You knew butter was included however non of it was right..

You'd walked through every store you could find to see if you could find what you needed..

However non of it was coming to you.

Walmart? Meijer? Kroger? Dollar Store? You went to all of them.. There were more sticks of butter in the hotel mini fridge then you knew what to do with- John having to now use butter in random meals or fork it off to others since it wasn't what you fuckin wanted. Poor John- The man both found it funny and felt incredibly bad for you as he tried to help the best he could, now becoming familiar with the grocery stores because of it..

It was making you lose your mind and you were now constantly cranky. Sleep also becoming more difficult as your mind just was trying to figure out.

You were shifting ever so often- Your brain still stuck on the phantom craving.

Rolling over you try to shift and get comfortable. The scowl on your face still as you stare ahead, eyes landing on the yellow hotel temperature dial looking at the black lettering across it.

Yellow with black lettering?

Yellow with black lettering.

Waffle House...

You sat up quick. Eyes wide as it dawned on you.

IT WAS FUCKING WAFFLE HOUSE!

Sliding out of the hotel bed you look to see John still asleep. Quick to put on your sandals you order a Uber to the closest Waffle House with a quick snag of your wallet.

The Uber ride had been incredibly quick. You were damn near giddy when you see that yellow and black sign.

The staff who were currently just chatting or on their phone looking to you confused as there was a heavily pregnant women in pajamas almost far too joyful to walk in and sliding into one of the clean booths.

One of the women walked over with a menu and a set frown, however you shook your head at her already knowing exactly what you needed.

"Can I get the two egg scrambled with cheese, bacon, sausage, grits, hash brows all the way, 3 waffles and a bowl of chili. With as many butter packets as you're legally allowed to give me"

She snorted a laugh at this.

"Fine then-"

You were giddy, Practically salivating as you watched like a damn hawk as the chef made your hefty meal. The baby seemingly as excited as you as you felt them move- prompting you to rub your stomach.

The waitress finally walked back over and set the plates down with a smirk, as well as the half frozen box of butter packets which were slid next to your seat at the booth.

"Thank you"

You say quickly and dig in, Humming in delight as you buckle down on your meal. That restless feeling you'd had before now a thing of the past.

Was there a moment you mixed the buttery grits into your chili and ate it like a person who had never eaten before? Yes-

Was it possibly gross to anyone else besides your very heavily pregnant self that you had done such a thing? Most likely.

Did you give a fuck?

Hell No-

You went on with your midnight breakfast opening up a butter packet at nearly every other bite. Mixing it were you could.

Hearing your phone buzz you know already who it is. Seeing your husband's name with far too many emojis and a single sentence.

💕John 💓🍆💦 - 'Where are you?'

You turn on your location sending it to him and continue your meal. Knowing John was on his way probably ready to blow a gasket.

There John finally walked in in under 15 minutes, In only his night pants and a wife beater on completely confused and clearly half conscious. Looking to you incredibly confused.

"The Fuck Darling-"

"Hey Baby"

John rubbed his face with a sigh. Walking over as he glanced around seeing the less then enthusiastic staff as they eyed him down then looked at you. Prompting you to give a thumbs up to them-

Sliding in the booth across from you he raises an eyebrow at the box of butter.

"Noticed we were a bit short on butter Luv"

You flip him off as you open another packet making him laugh. The same waitress as before walked over setting down your second order of waffles, eggs and bacon which you started to form into a sandwich, Looking to John with that same bored expression.

"What do ya want?"

He blinked at her a bit surprised.

"Just a coffee please.."

She nods and walks off quick, annoyed as she shoves the booklet back in her pocket. John seemingly almost confused- Clearly having been used to the plastic overly nice customer service here in the states.

He yawned scratching his muttonchop gently watching as you bite into your Waffle breakfast sandwich with delight.

"Happy there?"

"Absolutely- And I'm taking the butter box, I can take the butter box right?"

You call out to the waitstaff, getting a thumbs up which made you grin.

As if the universe wished to bless you for your suffering you see two incredibly drunk individuals stumble in- Yelling and already being annoying as shit.

Oh this was gonna be fun-

The drunk assholes began to yell, causing a ruckess as they moved to the open counter. Clearing trying to pick a fight-

John frowning deeply as he squared his shoulders as he moved to full Captian position.

Howevet you reach up and stop him shaking your head as he slowly sat back down incredibly confused by why you were telling him not to interven.

The waitress from before moved over setting down John's coffee before marching over to the individuals telling them to get out.

It took only 2.1 seconds before all hell broke loose...

John slowly slid his coffee over to himself as he sat there and watched slack jaw as the almost 'nice' waitress that had brought him his coffee have a screaming match with the guys and go as far as throwing a plate on the ground infront of them- The chef from before pointing a knife and just essentially a fight breaking out of beautiful proportions.

John slowly looking to you as you seemed unfazed by this- It dawning on him that this was clearly Normal?

"What the fuck is this place (Y/N)-"

You give him a proud smile.

"Waffle House"

[n1ght0f-nyx]

By Their Hands Alone

poly, royal au! 141 x princess reader smut

After a grueling day of royal duties, the exhausted Princess is tenderly bathed and worshipped by her most trusted men

warnings/tags- multiple penetration, foursome, royalty AU, princess!reader, dominant/protective partners, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, deep praise, soft doms, reader is worshipped, gentle aftercare, bathing kink, dirty talk, masked sex, emotional intimacy,

word count- 1376

The castle was still, save for the final echo of your heels clicking against marble.

Court had drained you. Endless petitioners. Tedious deliberations. The weight of your father's crown, even temporarily placed upon your head, had become a pressure behind your eyes and between your shoulders.

You barely registered your guards flanking you—the low rumble of Ghost’s voice behind your left shoulder, the steady gait of Gaz beside him. You only realized you’d reached your private chambers when Johnny’s fingers—warm, bare—slipped under your elbow.

"Come on, love," he murmured, and there was that voice: teasing, confident, and laced with a promise that curled low in your belly. "Let us take care of our Princess."

You were too tired to argue. Too tense to pretend to resist. And when John Price opened the double doors to your bathing chamber with the slow, calculated grace of a man who'd done this before, you knew tonight would not be for politics.

Tonight, you were theirs.

The bathing pool steamed like an enchanted spring, the scent of crushed jasmine and lavender curling in the air. You stood motionless as Ghost—still masked, still silent—untied your gown’s laces with slow reverence.

One by one, layers slipped from your body. Silks puddled at your feet. Your shift peeled away. You felt exposed—but never vulnerable. Not with Ghost's gloved hands tracing your shoulders, not with Soap murmuring filth in your ear about how he dreamt of peeling these same layers with his teeth.

"In, Princess," Gaz said softly. "Let us wash the day from your skin."

The moment your foot touched the hot water, the tension in your limbs began to bleed away. When you sank into the pool, surrounded by your knights, you exhaled for the first time that day.

They joined you one by one.

Price first, rolling up his sleeves as he sat at the edge of the bath, cupping a brass bowl of water. He tipped it over your hair with careful hands, his voice low. "Let it all go, sweetheart. You're not royalty here. Not with us."

Ghost knelt behind you in the water, his calloused fingers weaving through your hair. He worked oil into your scalp with slow precision, his thighs pressed to your back. His breaths were slow. Heavy. You could feel the hard line of his cock against the small of your back, unmoving, patient.

Soap chuckled from across you. "You're gonna make her melt, mate."

"That’s the point," Ghost rumbled.

Gaz had stripped to the waist, scars and muscle gleaming in the steam. He’d found your hand under the water, massaging each finger, each palm, as if he could drain the court's burdens from you one joint at a time.

Soap reached for a sponge. "Mind if I do the honors, Princess?"

You blinked at him through damp lashes. Nodded.

The first stroke down your chest made you shiver. Not from cold—from how careful he was. How reverent. He watched your face as he dragged the sponge over the slope of your breasts, circling each nipple with maddening slowness.

"Fuckin’ divine," he whispered. "Look at you. All flushed and floatin’ like a goddess."

You whimpered.

He didn't stop. Not when he dropped the sponge and replaced it with his hands. Not when his thumbs teased your nipples, coaxing them into hard peaks as he leaned in and bit your neck. Not hard—just enough to make you gasp and arch into him.

Price’s voice came low and thick. "She needs more, Johnny."

You weren’t sure who moved first. Only that suddenly Soap was kissing you, tongue deep and hungry in your mouth, and Ghost’s hands were gripping your waist from behind, hauling you back against his chest.

He lifted you like nothing. Held you over his lap while Soap climbed out of the pool and sat on the stone edge. His cock jutted proudly from his hips, thick and dripping.

"Come on, sweetheart," Soap murmured. "Open that royal mouth for me."

Ghost's voice growled behind you. "Be gentle. She's tired."

But you weren’t tired anymore. You were alight. You leaned forward, lips wrapping around Soap’s tip, and the moan he let out cracked through the room like thunder.

Gaz came behind you. His fingers slid between your thighs under the water, stroking gently. Then deeper. Curling.

"God, you’re soaked already," he whispered, kissing the back of your neck. "We take care of you so well, don't we?"

You moaned around Soap’s cock.

Ghost shifted beneath you. His cock slid between your cheeks, not entering—just pressing, stroking as he held your hips.

"Can’t wait to fill her," he murmured to Price. "Look at her. Mouth full, cunt clenching ‘round Kyle’s fingers. She’s ready."

Soap tugged your hair, gently. "You want it, bonnie? Hm? Want to be full of us?"

You moaned again, desperate, nodding as your mouth slid up and down his cock. He was all salt and heat. You sucked him deeper, and he cursed under his breath.

Price moved at last. He shed the rest of his clothes and came behind Ghost, kneeling with the patience of a man who knew you’d break apart soon. He took over where Gaz left off, sliding two thick fingers into your dripping cunt, thumb circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

"We’ll take you together," he murmured. "Stretch you around us. Let you come again and again. No titles. No court. Just us."

You whimpered—then choked as Soap pushed deeper into your throat.

"Good girl," he growled, cupping your jaw. "Fuck, you take me like a sweet little whore when you’re off that throne."

Ghost grunted behind you. "Watch your tone."

"What? She likes it. Don't you, Princess?"

Your eyes rolled back. You nodded again, choking slightly around Soap's cock, pleasure burning low in your belly as Price fucked you with his fingers.

Then—

Everything shifted.

Ghost pulled you up and out of the pool, water sluicing from your body. Your legs trembled. He lifted you like a doll and laid you down on the velvet chaise nearby, your skin hot against the cool upholstery.

Price and Gaz joined him, mouths on your thighs, your nipples, your lips. You were gasping, writhing, trembling under all of them.

"Ready, love?" Gaz murmured.

You barely had time to nod before he was sliding into you—slow, steady, sweet. You cried out, arms curling around his shoulders as he fucked you deep.

Then Ghost pressed behind you. You stiffened—only for Price to take your hand and kiss your fingers.

"Let go, Princess. We’ve got you."

Ghost’s cock pressed against your rim. He was gentle—so slow you nearly sobbed. The stretch burned, but their voices held you down. Grounded you.

"That's it. Good girl. Taking us so well."

"Breathe, love. I've got you."

"You’re beautiful like this."

Once Ghost was fully seated behind you, you were shaking.

Then they moved.

Together.

In tandem.

Gaz fucked you slow and deep, his hand on your clit, mouth on your neck. Ghost drove into your ass with punishing precision, his hands pinning your hips. You were stuffed. Full. You could barely breathe.

Then Soap straddled the chaise, his cock hard and dripping against your lips.

"Still got room in that mouth, sweetheart?"

You opened for him, dazed, and he moaned as he slid in.

You were undone. Surrounded. Filled.

Their bodies pressed to yours, voices a chorus of praise and filth.

"That's it. So fuckin’ tight."

"Our good girl."

"You’re perfect like this, Princess."

Your orgasm hit like lightning. You screamed around Soap’s cock, body locking up as you clenched around all of them. They didn’t stop. Price whispered that you could take more. That you were so strong. So good.

You came again. And again.

Until Ghost finally groaned and filled you, hips jerking.

Gaz followed, burying his face in your neck as he spilled inside you.

Soap was last. He pulled out and came across your lips, smearing his release over your mouth before kissing you deep.

They eased out slowly. Whispered soft praises.

Price brought warm cloths.

Soap held you.

Gaz stroked your hair.

Ghost kissed your shoulder.

They bathed you again—gently, lovingly—before wrapping you in furs and carrying you to bed.

And in the dark, you slept between them.

Safe.

Loved.

Full.

Yours.

[glowingseaurchin]

The Lieutenant

hey siri play menace (slowed) by visioner

[the-californicationist]

Ursa Major

It's finished! Ursa Major is complete. 196,308 words later.

Thanks so much to everyone who supported this fic and me while I was writing it. I hope this story brought you some joy over this past year, and although I am not ready to say goodbye, I'm glad to see that it's got a resolution. Y'all are the best <3

[the-froschamethyst4]

Tanning Lotion and Fish Hooks

𖤐Pairing: Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, skinny dipping, spanking, groping, nipple play, kissing/making out, P in V, semi public sex, nudity, married couple, diva/bratty! reader, brat taming (?), more use of John,

𖤐Summary: Price wants to fish, his wife wants to tan

————

————

All John wanted to do was relax on his little fishing boat at the lake, peace, quiet, and just him and the water, but no, he brought along his diva of a wife Y/n along.

"John, I'm hungry!" She whines as she was on her back on her thick beach towel in his bikini top and her jean shorts were unbuttoned.

"There's beef jerky in the cooler-"

"I want fruit, why don't you pack fruit?" She whines as she lifts her sunglasses to her forehead to look at him better.

"Y/n, honey, please, I'm trying to fish-"

"And I'm trying to tan, but I can't on an empty stomach," she says as she sits up on her elbows and looks at him.

'Love-"

"This is so unfair," she whines like a child as she flops on her back.

"Unfair?! You wanted to come with me-"

"Because I thought you were actually going to swim with me, I thought you'd hold off on the fishing."

"Fine," he sets his pole down and starts walking to the cooler. "I knew something like this would happen, and here." He hands her an ice tea, unscrewing the cap and giving it to her, and then digging around for something else, maybe food, Y/n would actually enjoy and not all the manly snacks in his cooler.

"Fruity popsicles, and some cut cantaloupe, and watermelon, just what you wanted," he says to her, and it was like a light had lit up inside her when he gave her the drink and fruit.

"Oh yes!" She signs with satisfaction. "Thank you, John," she smiles and leans forward to peck his lips. "You also have a bite," she casually says, leaning back as she takes a bite of the cantaloupe.

John whips his head around and sees his pole getting tugged on, he rushes to the other side and starts to reel in the fish. It was big from how he was fighting with it.

He finally gets the fish out of the water, putting his thumb in its mouth and showing it off to Y/n, she just gives him a smile as he cheered "HA! Perch!" He yells. He gets the hook out of its mouth and tosses it back into the water.

As John was baiting up his hook, Y/n had gotten up and started to shimmy out of her shorts, John looked up at her above his sunglasses getting...a very nice peak and look at Y/n's breasts, seeing them just being held in the red bikini top, how they slightly bounce with every movement she made.

It was like the world just went into slow motion or you know how a man sees a hit girl in the movies and all of a sudden she's walking in slow motion? Yeah, that's what's happening right now with John's wife.

He watched as she fixed her hair putting it up into a ponytail, her glasses back over her eyes, but holy fuck...

She looked hot.

Of course John has seen his wife in a bikini many, many times, it shouldn't faze him anymore, but damn, he loves seeing her in one every now and then.

She grabs her tanning lotion and rubs it all over her body, starting from her thighs and moving them up to her face.

"John?" His slow motion world of Y/n stopped when he heard his name come form her lips.

"Huh?"

"Can you get my back?" She asked.

"Sure," he put his pole down and Y/n handed him the lotion, she goes on her knees and turns from him, lifting her ponytail just a bit so he could get her neck.

His hands were rough but were gentle on her skin.

"It's cold," Y/n says as he body shivered.

"Sorry," he says.

John was done, but he wanted to keep touching Y/n, he leans forward and his lips planted on the nape of her neck, she jumped from the sudden motion, but relaxed into him.

"John-"

"Sorry...you just look...so, so good," he mumbles against her skin.

He drops the lotion and then his hands start to wonder, moving to her waist, then moving up to her chest, groping her breasts, she let's out a soft moan, his hands going under her top and pinching at her soft nipples, but of course with his touch quickly hardened.

She moans and puts her head back, she looks up at him to keep going, no one else was around them, they could do whatever they wanted it didn't matter right now.

John's left hand comes out from under her top moves to her back and pulls at the string holding her top up, it was loose and she didn't grab it from falling on her legs, she looks down and smiles when John was fully groping her again.

"Fuck," she moans as she puts her head back. "If you want to do this, then you better hurry before everyone starts pouring in," Y/n says while looking over her shoulder.

"How quick?" He asked, he was confused, and Y/n got off her knees kind of pissing off John that she got up, she gives him a teasing smile. He just looks at her round butt, how the bottoms weren't really covering much.

She pulled the bottoms down to where she was now completely bare in front of him. His jaw was dropped, she was bold.

"Jesus, baby," he chuckles.

"I wanna go for a quick swim," she teases. "You can join...if you want to," she teases him some more, she gets to the edge of the boat and just leans back into the water.

John was quick, before Y/n even came up for air, John was stripping. He wasted no time and jumped in, he grabbed onto Y/n holding her close, kissing her lips and holding her waist.

"You are such a tease-"

"I got you in the water though," she smiles as her arms go around his neck and she leaned in and kissed his lips. It was suppose to be a soft kiss but it was quickly turned into a hot and deep make out session.

John fought for dominance in the kiss. Y/n pulls away and she pulls away from John's arms, she leans back to where she was floating, John smiles and swims a bit closer to her, his hands going to her back and holding her in a bridal style.

"I fucking love you, you know that?"

"I know...you like to tell me," she giggles. He leans forward and kisses her lips once more.

"If we wanna do this it has to be fast," John tells her. She nods and they both got back on the boat.

John was immediately above Y/n not giving time for her to react. He had her pinned on her back, his hands holding her waist.

"You know," John starts as he was kissing Y/n's lips. "I just wanted *smooch* peace when I *smooch* came out here *smooch* and now *smooch* I'm risking having *smooch* sex *smooch* in the middle of a fucking *smooch* lake," he 'complains' but he isn't really, if anything this was the best fishing trip he's ever been on.

"You love the idea of being *smooch* risky," Y/n says.

"Only for you," he says. John's hand then starts to go between their wet bodies, he gives him a few lazy pumps, Y/n moved her to his and gives him a few pumps as well, if John wanted to he would cum in Y/n's hand right here and right now.

He moves his hips a bit forward, his tip just barely touching her, but with a lazy thrust he was fully inside of her, her head going back and a loud moan escaped her mouth.

"Fuck," she moaned.

"Jesus, you're fucking tight," he groans close to her ear. John does a few lazy thrusts into Y/n just earning soft moans from her. He sits up, still holding her down, and started to pick up the pace a bit.

"You're a tease you know that?" He says. "Fucking stripping in the middle of a lake, what if someone sees, huh? Just being a brat since we've been out here," he says to her.

He went a bit faster while he held Y/n's wrists above her head with his left hand, and then used his other to smack her thighs, leaving a harsh sting on them. Her whining made him smirk, he liked hearing her.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful," he says as he leans down to kiss her lips to hide the moans.

"J-John," she moans.

"I know I feel you tightening even more," he smirks. "But I don't know, if I should let you cum." He says.

"W-What?"

"What? I think you heard me. You've been a brat since we've been down here. Why should I let you?" He says, smacking her right thigh, the sting made Y/n flinch.

"Huh? I don't think I can hear you, love," he says.

"P-Please, I-I'm sorry," she whines, her thighs squeeze around his waist. "Mm~ I-I was being a brat, b-but I just wanted to have some f-fun," she gives him a teasing smile, it made John chuckle, like she wasn't actually sorry, and she'll keep doing it rather he liked it or not.

"Oh fuck you," he says, kissing her lips, his thrusts were harder, faster and his tip just hit her in the right spot over and over again.

"F-Fuck," Y/n moans as she ended up coming. John smirks and lets go of her wrists.

"You're such a teasing little wife," he says, close to her ear.

"And you're a mean husband," she says, hitting his chest.

-------------------

3:00PM

More people had shown up which also meant it was harder to fish, but John was still fishing, Y/n was on her stomach, arms resting her head as she lets the sun tan her backside. She looked peaceful.

The strings of her bikini top were undone and her bottoms were back on, unfortunate for John.

He would every now and then look behind him to make sure Y/n was okay, he was even without having to ask or be told would put tanning lotion on her back.

"Caught anything?" An older fisherman came up beside John's boat.

"Caught a Perch around 12," John says.

"Anything else, after that?"

John just smirks. "A hot babe," he says, he then feels a slight kick in his side from Y/n, her eyes were open and gave him a smile to 'behave'.

"Oh yeah, where can I find one?"

"HAROLD!" His wife smacked his arm...hard.

"Ow woman!" The older man and his wife started to move their boat away from John and Y/n.

"You're a bastard," Y/n mumbles.

"Well, I mean, I did catch myself a good looking woman," John says as he turns, his right hand resting on the back of her calf and slowly moving his fingers to be under her bottoms and giving her butt a firm squeeze, but Y/n swats his hand away which made him chuckle.

"You should come fishing with me more often," John says to her.

"Nah," Y/n says as she ties to the strings of her top and she sat up.

"Nah?" John was confused. "I thought-"

"It's pretty boring," Y/n says as she turned to face him. "I'd rather be at home," she then starts to spread her legs giving John a good and perfect view of her pussy just hiding behind her bikini bottoms.

"Fuck me," he mumbles.

"Don't you think so?" She titles her head, looking innocent, she knows what she is doing.

"We're going home," he says, reeling in his line and making sure everything is down and secure. John sped out of the lake like his life depended on it, but really it was if he could keep himself from busting all over the place because of his hot wife.

[sparkle-queen97]

Simon Riley x pregnant!reader hcs

I wanted to try something new with this one, so please stick with me. Hope you’ll enjoy it

Masterlist

Paring: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x pregnant!reader

Warnings: pregnancy

- Takes care of you every moment he is home.

- He Won’t let you do anything around the house.

- He feel really insecure about becomings a father, he is scared that he would become like his father.

- he feels extremely guilty each time he has to go on leave.

- Since he gets to know the gender of the baby he would start buying clothes for the baby.

- He ask Price to let him stay at home for the last trimester of your pregnancy, so that he won’t miss the birth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry for any grammar errors, English isn’t my first language, also if you want you can drop a follow to my AO3 account here, I’m not very active there but I’m trying to change that.

[bigproblemsfunnylife]

Bleach and Mops: Cleaning Edition

Bedtime edition ; Kitchen edition

Pairing: Ghost x Soap x GN! Reader

CW: Light profanity, mild flirting, polyamorous relationship (Ghost x Soap x GN! Reader), implied domestic chaos (cleaning home, etc…), fluff, humor, and slice-of-life antics

It started with a sock.

One crusty, godforsaken sock abandoned in the hallway like a relic of battle. Ghost stared down at it for a long moment, arms folded, one brow raised beneath the mask.

“Whose is this,” he asked.

You poked your head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth. “Not mine.”

Soap shouted from somewhere down the hall. “Maybe mine! What color is it?”

“It’s beige,” Ghost replied, voice flat as concrete.

“Then definitely not mine,” Soap said without hesitation. “I only wear colored socks.”

You spit into the sink and grinned. “It’s your sock, Johnny.”

That’s when Ghost declared war.

Thirty minutes later, the apartment had been transformed into a battleground of cleaning products, rags, and accusations. Ghost had commandeered the vacuum like a weapon of justice. You had a spray bottle in one hand, a sponge in the other, and Soap had somehow managed to arm himself with a Swiffer and zero dignity.

“I’m telling you, we just let the dust win,” Soap announced, leaning against the wall like a man at the edge of despair. “The floor has seen too much. It’s time we moved on.”

You sprayed him in the face.

He yelped. “Oi! This is an act of violence!”

“You’ve been wiping the same spot on that shelf for twenty minutes.”

“I’m emotionally connecting with it.”

“Wipe harder,” Ghost called from the other room.

“Stop yelling at me through the vacuum,” Soap yelled back.

Ghost didn’t reply, but the vacuum roared to life again like an angry jet engine. The sound of things being aggressively sucked into oblivion filled the hallway. A sock disappeared under the couch. You were pretty sure it was a different sock than before.

You moved to the living room and caught Ghost mid-action, dragging the vacuum with the steely focus of a soldier clearing a minefield. You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You know this is deeply attractive, right?”

Ghost didn’t look up. “Not now. I’m cleaning ragefully.”

Soap appeared at your side, now wearing a bandana like a pirate and holding a half-empty spray bottle. “I’ve polished the entire TV stand,” he announced proudly.

“It’s glass,” you said.

“And now it’s shiny glass.”

Ghost emerged from under the coffee table, mask askew, hair slightly damp with effort. He looked between you both, narrowed his eyes, and said, “If I find crumbs in the cushions, I’m throwing this couch into the sun.”

“Bit dramatic,” Soap muttered.

“I’m not joking.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Operation Deep Clean is in motion.”

And somehow, it actually began to come together.

Ghost vacuumed every corner with surgical precision. You wiped down counters and organized the bookshelf you’d been meaning to get to for six months. Soap, to everyone’s surprise, threw himself into bathroom duty like a man possessed, narrating the entire process with wild, pirate-themed commentary.

“Swabbin’ the deck, cap’n!”

“Johnny, stop calling the toilet the poop deck,” you called back.

“I won’t!”

Eventually, things began to smell like lemon and fabric softener. The windows were open, a breeze blowing in, and music had replaced the vacuum hum. Something upbeat, ridiculous. You didn’t remember who put it on, but Soap was dancing with the mop like he was auditioning for a musical.

Ghost reappeared from the hallway, arms crossed again, surveying the now sparkling floor. He looked unimpressed.

Then Soap dipped the mop dramatically and winked at him.

You laughed and stepped between them, tossing the spray bottle into the basket of supplies. “So, are we done?”

“I haven’t disinfected the doorknobs yet,” Ghost said automatically.

“Jesus Christ,” Soap sighed.

“Later,” you said, grabbing Ghost by the wrist and tugging him toward the couch. “The couch is clean. We’re clean. The war is over.”

Soap flopped down on the cushions, arms wide. “We have defeated the filth.”

“Together,” you added.

Ghost hesitated. Then sat slowly like the couch might still bite him. It didn’t, it just squeaked a little under the combined weight of your chaos.

And the three of you, a little sweaty, a little flushed, settled in with the warm glow of domestic victory.

“Next weekend,” Soap mumbled, eyes already closing. “We clean the garage.”

You and Ghost both groaned in unison.

“No we don’t,” you said.

“Absolutely not,” Ghost confirmed.

But you all knew you would.

Eventually.

After a nap.

[ghcstsoap]

Surgeon Simon who spends some of his free time in the Morgue because he can and it has a calming effect on him and then Tommy whose like "my brother is a surgeon but he also spends his meantime in a morgue, so who turned out better"

[peteywebs]

Apple (edit: this was supposed to have a texture over it, second image is the corrected version.)

[foundnotname]

Don't worry, I kissed the brick before throwing it in your face :3

[capybarawithafishtail]

@bbuce I have starved you for long enough.

Here is the Ghost flowers I’ve made; featuring his pretty eyelashes and his ass.

[ic3dior]

I feel like reboot Ghost and Price would be such old men with technology. Like they can manage just fine with the systems to do their work but the minute it changes? Hell. They have to re learn how to do it. There is a reason neither of them were computer specialists in the field.

One time Prices computer malfunctioned and he was too embarrassed to tell anyone except Ghost so the two of them spent ages trying to come up with a solution to fix it as ‘turn it off and on again’ didn’t seem to be working.

Another time Ghost could work out how to do something online so he asked price for help, who didn’t know either. So again it took the two of them and a long while of pressing buttons to figure it out. And they both feel so victorious afterward that they have a smoke and a drink together.

If the situation gets dire, they call on Nik. Who is as much help as a twig. The man may be able to fly any helicopter you put in front of him but a computer? oh no no no. He can just about send an email and that is it.

And then there’s soap and gaz who are the masters of modern technology and know exactly what each button does and when to use it. The two sergeants never realised what old men their bosses were until Price accidentally messaged their group chat asking ghost a question and ghost also responded without realising it was on the group chat. The two then had a long conversation about what they could do until soap and gas got fed up and began wondering why their phones kept buzzing during their movie night. They’d read the text exchange and had offered up the correct solution, much to their bosses embarrassment when they realised it was on the wrong chat.

The entire time, they would’ve been happy to help as usually it was a simple fix. At least to them. But Price and Ghost didn’t want them thinking they were incompetent because cmon guys, those two both have self esteem issues and you can fight me on that.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Strange Weather | Nikolai x F!Reader

Crash

Six months after giving birth, she finally tries to have a break

masterpost

tags: estranged husband Nikolai, emotional, age gap

"I shouldn't be long. I just need to get some groceries and not have her screaming the entire time." She laughed to the babysitter, a friend's younger sister.

"I'll take good care of her, I promise." Laura grinned, holding up Dahlia's little hand to wave.

"She should hopefully just sleep. It is nap time but bottles are in the fridge."

"Got it!" She smiled. "Say bye bye mummy. See you soon."

It was hard leaving Dahlia but Laura was good with her. And truthfully she needed a fucking break. Nikolai would come over and take over for a day but any longer than that it would devolve into arguments and her having to kick him out. Six months and they were still no closer to ending or continuing their marriage. Stuck in a standstill for who knows how long. She needed time without Nikolai in the house.

It was a simple grocery store trip. They didn't need much but she'd probably stop for a coffee and maybe get some flowers at the market. Just a short trip.

Nikolai had gotten her a new car after Dahlia was born. She kind of hated it. Big land rover that needed a step to get into it. He said it made him feel better that she was in something roughly the size of a tank.

She did feel safe in it, just wished it was a bit smaller.

Driving in London was always a pain. People too ready to get where they were going to follow any sort of order. Maybe she should have been more careful. It wasn't her fault but it was hard to feel like she wasn't to blame.

Going through an intersection, another car came speeding across, hitting the front passenger end of her car. She remembered her head hitting the window and the airbag going off. A car horn was going off somewhere. Someone was knocking on the window.

"Are you okay?"

"Call an ambulance!"

"Ma'am is there anyone we can call for you?" An EMT asked. She was on a gurney, being wheeled into hospital. Her head ached incredibly, her vision blurry.

"My…my husband."

He'd had her set up her emergency contacts in her phone. Him, being the first and only number.

He was waiting for her in her room after the CT scan. Luckily it was just a concussion and sprained wrist. Nothing major. She'd be good to go the next morning.

"Where's Dahlia? Does Laura know?" She asked, weakly.

"She's okay. I called, I'm paying her triple to stay over night and to tell me if she needs anything. How are you?" He pushed her hair back, away from her face. There was a large bruise across the side.

"My head hurts."

"I'm sure." He pulled his chair up next to her bed and sat down, taking one of her hands and kissing across it.

"You got here quick."

"I had a crash detection system on the car. I was already on my way before I got the call."

"You're stalking me?" She raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that big of a surprise, more so that he'd admit to doing anything unscrupulous.

"Only the car." He chuckled.

"How is the car?"

"Most likely totaled." He shrugged. "I'll get you a new one this week. The man who hit you ran. I'll have to deal with that too."

"Nik…" She gave him a stern look. He shouldn't have run from the accident but he didn't deserve whatever Nikolai was planning in his head. His willingness to succumb to violence made her stomach churn.

"Accidents happen but you don't run after hitting a woman like that. What if Dahlia was with you?"

"She wasn't."

"But what if she was?" He pursed his lips. He was never good at hiding his anger when it came to protecting her and Dahlia.

"We're okay." She reached out and laid her hand over his clenched fist. "I'm okay."

He spent the night with her, watching over as she slept.

"Thank you so much Laura," She hugged the younger woman. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to call."

"I'm just glad you're okay. Dahlia was good but we went through most of the bottles. She's in her crib right now. I turned the mobile on."

"Thank you again. Nikolai will pay you. I'm going to lie down again."

"Of course, Malishka." Nikolai kissed the unbruised side of her face before pulling out his wallet and counting out notes for Laura. She heard the disbelief from the babysitter and Nik's assurance that it was well earned. He was generous when it came to things like this. He said it kept people loyal. Generosity endeared people to you. When she thought about it, that was how he first got in bed with her.

She laid in bed. Her body still ached from where the seatbelt held her. She'd need to pump before Dahlia got hungry again.

"Nik!" She called. His steps were fast up the stairs.

"What's wrong?" He asked, rushing in.

"Nothing. I…I just need the uhhh breast pump. Dahlia will be hungry again soon and I haven't done it since yesterday." Her breasts already felt tender from the seat belt retracting during the accident. If she waited longer they would start to ache.

"Where is it?"

"Bag on the floor of the closet."

He set it all up, made sure all the pillows were just right to support her back. She never put her bra back on from the hospital so no fumbling with that.

"Do you want me to do it?" He asked.

"Could you?" She asked, tears pricking up at her lash line. He'd hadn't seen her body since before Dahlia. Her stomach was pudgeier and breasts swollen. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and she flinched.

"You're beautiful." He said, cupping her cheek. "Our baby didn't change that."

He lifted up her shirt and helped her put the pumps on. His hand rested on her bare side, thumb rubbing over a stretch mark. Once he was sure it was working he left her with a kiss on the cheek to go check on Dahlia.

It felt like a second crash - getting hit by all the emotions she'd try to keep at bay. She was exhausted. Not just from the past day, from everything. She covered her mouth to stifle her own cries. She might still have the house and the money and everything else Nikolai had ever given her but she was alone. So terribly alone.

It made her feel like a monster but if she'd known Nikolai wouldn't be around she never would have kept the pregnancy. She loved Dahlia more than herself, she just didn't think she was strong enough for this. If Dahlia had been in the car and gotten hurt, it would have been her fault. What if something happens to her? One fall down the stairs and no one would be here to help Dahlia.

"Are you okay Malishka? Does something hurt?" Nikolai was at her side, Dahlia still in his arms.

"No...I'm just tired." He brushed her hair back and rested a hand on her forehead.

"Do you want to stop pumping? Get some sleep?"

"I need to finish. She needs food."

"There are still bottles. She'll be okay for a couple hours."

"Do you even know how to do it? How to feed her?" She snapped. Anytime he was over for visits she'd feed Dahlia before and after to avoid any fussyness. She didn't want him caring for her in the same way she did. He didn't deserve to. He hadn't earned the right to be a father.

"I can manage."

"It has to be the right temperature and you have to hold her the right way and make sure she burps and doesn't choke and oh my god." She had trouble catching her breath has her anxiety wound its way around her chest and held on tightly. "Can I just have her? Please just give her to me."

"You need to breath."

"Nikolai…give her to me."

He climbed onto the bed beside her, "She's okay. See?"

Dahlia smiled up at her with a happy gurgle.

"I can take care of our daughter." He stroked the back of her head. "You need to rest."

Dahlia was the best thing he'd ever given her. She wanted to be angry, leave him for good, hate him for how he hurt her. How could she hate someone when they looked like the thing she loved most?

"If something happens to me, promise you'll still take care of her."

"What do you mean? Nothing will happen to you." He cupped her cheek and turned her to him.

"But if it does. I need you to promise. Not that you'll have a nanny or send her to some school. That'll you'll be there. You won't leave her."

"I will. I promise you. I won't leave either of you." He kissed her temple. "Hold her for a moment while I take the pumps off. Then you can rest."

"Okay." She took Dahlia in her arms. She was everything she could ever want in one little bundle. She had her father's eyes. Nikolai said Dahlia looked like her but sometimes she could only see his features staring back up at her. Nikolai packed the pump away and took it downstairs to store the milk and wash the pieces.

When he came back, she was humming a song to Dahlia, letting the girl hold one of her fingers.

"I wish I was there."

"Me too." The sadness came through more than the anger.

"I'll stay as long as I can. Take care of you both." He took Dahlia back and made sure she was comfortable. "Don't ever be afraid of calling me when you need."

"Last time I needed you, you never picked up."

He looked away from her. Six months and he still never explained himself. She told herself she'd refuse to take him back until he did. He couldn't disappear from her the week their daughter was born and not tell her where he went. Even John didn't seem to know. God knows she hounded him enough.

"Get some rest."