#cod -> drabble

[springtyme]

hey babes 💖 congrats on the 2k! you deserve it, i'm literally obsessed with your writing! 🥂 can i request a drabble and moodboard for older hubby price? thank youu <33

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ♡

Thank you so much, hun! ♡ I hope you like this, it was so enjoyable to make! (like, boy oh boy, what I wouldn't do to have this man be my hubby)

Main Masterlist || John Price Playlist || 141 Masterlist

You can’t help but smile back at your reflection as you stand in front of the full body mirror of your bedroom, applying your lipstick, your favourite little black dress hugging your curves as you gently sways to the smooth, melodic voice of Ella Fitzgerald coming from the speaker on your nightstand. 

You’re just so excited for tonight, the first date night you and John have had in months as he has been away at base. You are so engrossed in the music and the happy anticipation bubbling inside your chest that you don’t even notice as John steps into the room at first, but as the rich scent of his cologne fills the air you catch his gaze in the mirror. He truly is a sight for sore eyes as he stands there, leaning against the door frame as he buttons up his dress shirt, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, the most kissable lips you’ve ever known. 

He watches you for a moment, his blue eyes sparkling with adoration as he takes in the sight of you, before stepping further into the room, walking up behind you with determined steps and wrapping his arms around your waist.  “God, you’re stunning,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. The gentle touch of his lips sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself,” you reply, turning around in his arms to face him with a smile. His eyes soften as he looks at you, his hand reaching up to adjust your necklace. His fingers trail along your exposed skin, sending goosebumps in their wake as he fingers the pendant hanging from your neck. You can feel the intensity of his gaze as he continues to look at you, his love for you shining through. 

“You’re flattering me, darling,” John says, his voice filled with warmth. “But really, I can’t take my eyes off of you. You take my breath away every time.”

You feel your heart swell with love for this man, this man who never fails to make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You reach up to cup his cheek, running your thumb along his jawline as you look into his eyes, the stubbles of his beard gently scratching against your soft fingertips. “You always know what to say to make a girl feel special,” you say with a soft giggle.

“It’s easy when all I have to say is the truth,” he replies, leaning in to capture your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known, inside and out,” he whispers so softly against your lips. 

You melt into the kiss, feeling the love and passion between you two like a warm blanket wrapping around you on a cold winter night. As you finally pull away, you can’t help but smile at the crimson of your lipstick that’s now staining the corner of his mouth. With a giggle, you reach up and gently wipe away the trace of your crime. But before you can finish, John takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, planting a soft kiss at the delicate skin of your pulse point before bringing his lips to the golden band of your wedding ring, pressing a soft kiss to the line of diamonds that is encircling your ring finger.

“And I love you so much,” he murmurs against your skin, his eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration. 

You feel a rush of warmth in your chest, your heart swelling with happiness at his words. “I love you too John, more than words can express,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve missed you so much.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “I’ve missed you too, love,” he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. “But I’m home now, and I’m gonna stay here for a while, I promise.”

You smile against his chest, feeling content and at peace in his arms. The world outside disappears as you revel in the warmth of his embrace, the love that surrounds you both like a cocoon. And as Ella Fitzgerald’s voice continues to serenade you from the speakers you melt into each other, swaying gently to the music, lost in the moment and in each other.

[sgtgarricks]

simon would sit you on his lap and feed you meat he’s cooked to perfection after his hunt. if you let out the slightest of moan from the taste this man would instantly get bricked up. has a praise kink. loves to see your reaction to his food.

“mmm, you like that lovie?” while you just nod excitedly.

sometimes you really can’t help yourself so you start grabbing his hand and sucking his fingers into your mouth. you’re not even trying to be sexy about it! it really is that good!

too bad, because he will lose his shit and immediately drag you to the bedroom and give you another serving of #meat

[softaestluv]

more! | mlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ

Just thinking about Ghost having a shy, quiet wife. The glaring opposite of Ghost, painted in black and blood while you’re adorned in lace and frills. Smooth skin and delicate flesh, warm eyes and a bashful smile. Soft-spoken and so fucking sweet.

No one else knows about you, or that he’s married, not from lack of wanting people to know he has such a pretty dove waiting for him at home, but because he knows all the men on base would eat you alive.

But one day, he forgets the lunch you made him. It takes everything in you to refrain yourself from driving to base to make sure he has something to eat— you know he doesn’t have the healthiest eating habits.

You choose to message him, something he usually responds fairly quickly to. Always at your beck and call just in case his sweet girl needs him, but he doesn’t answer. Your lips are pinched raw with worry by the time you decide to get in your car.

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when a sergeant interrupts the meeting Ghost’s in— ‘Lieutenant, um, Mrs. Riley is waiting outside for you.’

Ghost is on his feet in an instant, it must be some emergency if you’re there. He rushes to the hallway, everyone else in the room stumbling behind to snoop through the thin crack of the door, see who their big bad Lieutenant is married to.

And there you are, Tupperware container in your manicured hands, white dress covering your frame with matching ribbons and bows in your hair. The look on your face is anxious, right up until you see Ghost, your eyes softening as he approaches you with wide strides despite the fact that he’s twice your size, hulking and threatening.

“Sweet’art, everything okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, brows furrowing as he does a once over your figure, checking for injury.

You exhale a quiet laugh, “No, baby. You just forgot your lunch, and you didn’t answer your phone so I got worried you would go the whole day without eating.”

He cups your jaw, a smile breaking out on his face. His sergeants are baffled for several reasons— they did not expect their Lieutenant to be married to such a sweet thing, nor had they ever heard their Lieutenant speak in such a soft, hushed tone, never seen him touch something with such care, like you were so fragile in the palms of his hands.

They would’ve thought it was all a joke if it wasn’t for the massive diamond ring on your finger, or the way you pushed deeper into his touch.

“Sorry, dove, just been in a meetin’ all day.”

He stamps a kiss against your lips, lets himself linger just a little longer than he should because he knows the whole room is watching from behind the door.

“Sweetest little wife, aren’t you?”

[kkusuka]

pt. 2

your roommate was a strange man.

can you even really call him a roommate if he's only home for one week every few months? but when he is home, simon riley is a pretty good roommate.

he fixes the heater that's been broken for two months, he replaces the faucet after it drenches you for turning it on too quick, he even takes a look at your car when you mention how your breaks have been squeaking. but other than his penchant for whiskey and the color black, you really don't know much about the man you've been living with for more than a year.

he's in the military, you know that for sure. he works with a team because he tells you that you have a striking resemblance to a man names "soap"? you take that as a compliment even if he didn't really mean it to be one. he wears combat boots even when he's off, you buy him a pair for his birthday that he doesn't take off until soles wear out. but all of these are merely observations, you don't actually know anything about him.

and it's not like you don't try to find out more things about him. you search his name on google- nothing. you ask him about his social media- 'don't got any'. you never ask about family because he never brings them up. all you have is a phone number and the license plate on his beat up dodge charger.

so, getting a call in the middle of the night, three months after you'd last seen simon, about a mission taking a bad turn and simon taking a bullet for an american private. all you really manage to catch after that was the hospital's address and a room number to ask for.

you feel like you're in a trance as you pack yourself an overnight bag, then move to simon's room and just start grabbing the softest clothes you can find and a bunch of snacks from his side of the pantry, then you're off.

you didn't want to see desperate or overly worried about a man whose favorite song you don't know but you're pushing into the high 90s on your way down. and your mind isn't clear until you're standing in front of a tired looking nurse in sanrio scrubs.

"um, i need to get into room 1206?" you barely choke the words out before she's getting up to lead you, "oh! mrs. riley, they told me you were on your way."

"oh-i'm, well" and if you hadn't watch so many hospital shows where they don't let anyone but family into the room you would have just told her the truth, but you just shut your mouth, give her a tight smile, and follow her down the hallway.

the room doesn’t take long to get to, but the door is shut and you can hear the people inside talking. but the nurse doesn't even hesitate to swing the door wide open, "mr. riley, your wife is here."

and then there are four sets of eyes trained on you, but all you can look at is the hulking figure of your roommate sat up in his comically small hospital bed. and all you can muster up is a slight smile and a small wave in his direction before the bags you're holding fly straight onto the floor.

"oh, shoot- i'm sorry. i didn't know if you needed anything so i just grabbed some things from your dresser- and some of those granola bars you like, and there should be a gatorade somewhere in there. and, oh my god, i'm sorry, how are you? i came as soon as they called, and they said you got shot, and-"

"calm down, sweetheart, or yer gonna be the one that needs a hospital bed." ok, simon could still speak that was good, and he was conscious and remembered you.

"i'm sorry. i just got worried, and-" simon knew you well enough to know that you'll worry yourself to death if he lets you keep going, "nothin' to worry about, sweetheart, pull up a chair, you've 'ad stressful few hours."

you practically fell back into the chair that the man with the kindest brown eyes you've ever seen pushed towards you. and for the first time since you arrived, you took a deep, long breath. hand clasped in your lap as you take simon in.

"feeling any better, mrs. riley?"

"she's fine, garrick." 

'garrick' seems utterly unphased by your roommate's- husband's? you can address that later- tone and just continues to smile at you.

"c'mon simon, we just wannae ken 'bout the bonnie lass yer hidin' from yer pals. ye 'aven't even introduced us." you're glad the scot waited until you'd calmed down to start speaking because it took you at least 30 seconds to realize he was even talking about you.

"sweetheart these are the boys, boys this is sweetheart, now fuck off before you scare 'er away"

they didn’t seem like they were going to leave until the older man practically dragged them out saying something about the heaping loads of paperwork they had to do. so will a little wave and a cheeky smile, they were gone.

"so, um, ho-how are you feeling? they, uh, said that you got shot?"

" 'm fine, sweetheart, better knowing i've got a bird at home who'll come runnin' cause she thinks 'm hurt, yeah wife?"

yeah, maybe you'll let the mrs. riley thing go on for a little bit longer.

idk i just really like the idea of simon just picking someone random and being like 'yeah this is it, you're mine now' and they have literally no idea

[lustjunkiie]

thinking of old, retired!simon riley who hangs out pubs in his free time. he’s a tank of muscle, with a soft layer of fat over it all. he’s got the peak dad bod, and he’s a bit tanner than he was from working in his back garden. his tattoos are lining his body and he is scrumptious.

and he meets you. young little thing, sweetest bird he’s ever seen. shining, soft grins and plump, curvy edges.

he nearly drops to his knees to pray for you to grace him with your presence when you do it on your own volition. he forgot he was even playing blackball, the cue still held tightly in his hand. he was just practicing, just a hobby.

“mm, can ye teach me how to play?” you ask, and you’ve got a thicker accent than he does. he drinks it up, with a straw and all. he nods, handing you a freshly chalked cue.

you struggle enough to learn the mechanics for him to decide to stand behind you, front pressed to your back as he bends you over with his body weight — one hand on your waist and the other steadying your cue as you aim to break.

fuck. he’s so hot, burning even through your skimpy dress. his voice rumbles in your ear,

“c’mon, birdie, just steady y’rself. even out yer breathin’.” he instructed, as patient as ever.

you beat him when you guys actually started playing! yay! and then… you decided to make a silly little bet.

“if you can beat me,” you whispered in his ear, liquid temptation mixed with the way you were pulling him by his shirt collar down to your level — you knew he could easily beat you — “i’ll go home with you.”

simon has never won a game of blackball so fast.

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[kruegerspillow]

sleeping with simon riley includes...

a bunch of coughing and groaning in the middle of the night (yeah... he needs to stop smoking)

random muttering and mumbling from him/you

nightmares. he will literally jump out of the bed which causes you to be startled sometimes (he offered to sleep on the couch due to his nightmares....)

his hands roaming around your body as if he wants to memorize every part of you (he does)

cuddles of course !!! it doesnt matter if hes the big or small spoon he just needs to be with you.

either of you falling off of the bed, at least once in a while

the blankets being left aside because simon says its gonna be 'too hot' (no, he just wants to be your personal heater lmao)

laying on top of each other. yeah, you might end up sleeping with your head resting against his chest.

HAIR STROKING. will stroke your hair until you fall asleep soundly

sigh... drooling. he drools a bit sorry to break it to you guys

a lot of admiring. he'll admire you as you sleep, its the only view that helps him doze off

FOREHEAD KISSES. either you or him. if he stirs awake he'll just give you a small forehead kiss before holding you closer to him (if thats even possible) and dozing off once more

nuzzling. he loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck :(

tangled legs. his legs are gonna be intertwined with yours oooor one of his leg is going to be on top of yours.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[itsoutrageouss]

It’s the first time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that something in him changes profoundly. You had always had your different skill sets out on the field, it was what made you such a powerful duo for the task force. You were sly, agile, a killer in the dark and he was a brute show of force and strength, able to kill with his bare hands. You argued a lot, though. Your differences that made you work so well also made you clash time and time again. He found you annoying. You found him arrogant.

But after a mission, Ghost finds you collapsed on the floor in an empty building— Crying. He’d never seen you do that before, but he knew you were a softer more sensitive soul, you were just good at hiding it.

He was moving before he realised it, crouching down in front of you, eyes narrowed as he tried to find your gaze that was lost in a heap of warm tears. His hands got clammy and his throat dry because how could he make it stop? It was like the sight had reached in and seized a part of him long gone, maybe one he’d never found before now.

“Stop crying.” He said foolishly, but his tone had lost its usual edge, and the very rare lilt of pleading had laced into his voice. Why did he suddenly grab your shoulders and press your trembling body into his? He had no clue but he wanted to shield you from whatever had made you look so vulnerable before him.

A part of him didn’t like seeing this, didn’t recognise the garbled sound of soft sobs, the way your body’s strength seemed to evaporate into a fragile, soft one that he wanted to pick up and put back together. Another part of him was sucking in this moment, afraid it would get lost and maybe feeling a bit guilty about it. But this feeling of… was it protection? Protection, yes. He’d never had it like this before. Usually, protecting means killing and hurting. Right now it meant nurturing as your small hands reached around his neck and you curled into him. He reacted immediately, sitting down and scooping you into his lap.

He closed his eyes, his chin resting on your head with a sigh. He had no idea what came next. This had to change your dynamic in some way because he couldn’t ever look at you the same. He saw your softness and maybe he fell in love with it right there, and wanted to be the one you showed it to. Only him.

“Im sorry” You whispered into his chest. His hands flexed around you, fighting the urge to smother you even more against him.

“Dont say that. Just keep holding onto me.” His voice was more hoarse than usual as his fingers unconsciously combed through your hair.

Whatever had happened, he was sure you felt it too, or you would’ve never let him this close. And he wished for everything you would let him again one day.

series masterlist

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

simon riley with his favourite cam girl

cw: masturbation

simon didn’t care that all of his money went to a girl that he didn’t know, a girl that was filming herself behind the camera.

“thanks for the donation sr141,” your shy face flashing a smile as you slowly untied the front piece of your shirt, his eyes glued to the screen savouring each moment. simon’s cock chubbed in his hands, slow strokes as his eyes remained trained on the screen.

he’s seen your naked body numerous of times, but yet every time you undid your clothes it felt like the first time all over again.

it was adorable just how shy you were, the faint blush in your cheeks as you displayed your pretty glossy cunt to the camera, playing it with your hands.

sr141 sent $400 > look so pretty baby

he almost came in his pants when you flashed the camera a smile. “thanks for the donations again,” you mumbled softly as you took out a toy - a dildo. “i wanted to do something new, maybe a toy?” you asked the chat as you held it up. god, what simon would do to be that.

the chat spammed with responses, sometimes he wished that it was a private call - these men didn’t deserve you.

sr141 commented > please, want to see your pretty lil cunt take it

he watched as you gently rubbed it along your glossy cunt, making it glisten with your arousal before sinking in. “it also vibrates,” you moaned as you thrusted it in and out of your cunt. simon was mesmerised, the way your cunt took the toy all the way in made him imagine how it felt to be buried deep snuggly in your cunt.

would you feel as tight as he imagined? would you make all those pretty noises you were making now?

sr141 commented > turn up the vibrations pretty, want to watch you fall apart

the way you blushed whenever simon commented didn’t go unnoticed, it added to his delusions that maybe you noticed him, maybe he would be offered a private call.

his strokes moved with yours, watching the way your body trembled when you turned on the vibrations, small moans coming in between your laboured pants. you were already making a damn mess on the bed, and you haven’t even came.

“‘m gonna cum, it’s too much,” you whined as your hips buckled, simon fantasying that he was the one in between your legs, tongue deep inside your cunt savouring your taste. sometimes he wondered maybe, just maybe he would make a special appearance. flaunting that he has a pretty girl to fuck in front of the cameras, claiming you.

the moment you came so did he, spilling his thick cum all over his calloused palms as he watched you lay breathless.

sr141 > just came with you baby, you were amazing

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @prettyinpink-bimbo @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969

[minimiance]

size difference kink but in the “i grew up being made fun of for being chubby so now the idea of a giant of a man being able to toss me around and tower over me without making my weight a problem makes me really horny” way, you get what im saying?

[elysianightsss]

Something something becoming an accidental prostitute for Simon lol.

Hear me out though, you’re at a bar. You’re making out, you’ve had a little too much to drink. Not enough to be completely gone like you’re sure Simon is but enough to be making out with a stranger.

Then you’re back in his truck, he’s practically begging for you to let him fuck you and you say no. You ‘don’t do that type of shit, one night stands and all that’ you say. Simon’s next thing is to beg for a blowjob, you again say no. ‘Part of the boyfriend package’ blah blah blah.

Then Simon delivers his final offer. He is so desperate he offers to pay for a handjob, he cringes after the words come out of his mouth thinking you’d be offended. But to his surprise you say yes. You need the money, and want him to feel good so why the heck not.

And it’s the best damn handjob he’s had in his life.

He drives you home and soon enough after a few days he’s at your door offering more money for another handjob. You feel a little dirty but when his calloused hand slides up your thigh and his hot breath is fluttering on your neck, the feeling fizzles away into something else.

Seeing him come undone with just your touch drives you wild, it becomes increasingly difficult not to do more for him. So when Simon comes over again, this time you kneel in front of him watching as his dark eyes widen when your knees hit the ground.

And just like your handjobs, it’s the best damn blowjob he’s ever had in his life. All sloppy and filthy, not like he imagined but so much better.

You don’t ask for anything but after Simon has kissed you goodbye -(after he’s done begging to let him make you cum)- you turn to find a stack of cash on the coffee table, almost double the amount he’d given for the handjob.

It’s not long after that, that you give in and let him spend hours between your thighs. He even pays you for that, mumbles into your cunt that it’s just as good as your lips around his cock as he ruts his hips into the mattress. You don’t see it until later, long after he’s left, but there is a triple stack of cash on your nightstand.

A day later you receive a text from him saying he’ll be gone for a couple of weeks on work but he can’t wait to see you when he’s back. You feel a strange fluttering sensation in your tummy that makes you feel sick. You thought Simon was the type to hide his feelings and be more stoic and blunt so seeing that message from the hulking giant has your stomach in knots.

It stays that way, you can’t rid the feeling so much so that when he finally shows up at your door you tell him whatever it is between you had to end. It was certainly not the welcome Simon was expecting after dealing with a gruelling mission with nothing but men for weeks on end. He feels something snap in his mind and suddenly he’s throwing you on the bed, gripping your jaw, brown eyes glaring into yours as he speaks, “I’m not goin nowhere sweet’art.”

You ‘fight’ with him blah blah blah but let’s get real you let him finger fuck your pussy until you go cross eyed. You let him fuck you into the mattress until you can barely remember your own name. You let him kiss your neck until the sun starts to rise. And you let him pull your body into his as you both drift off to sleep together.

In the morning you hear the envelope, heavy with weight to it, placed down on your nightstand. Then Simon kisses your forehead and whispers he’ll be back later to take care of you.

Then, the money stops appearing but he’s still fucking you. Soon the rent is paid in cash by an anonymous ‘good samaritan’. And before you know it, you’re waking up with a glittering diamond on your wedding finger and a swollen belly that moves when Simon says I love you.

[springtyme]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ♡

John Price x reader || Main masterlist || John playlist

summary: You're feeling under the weather, so your husband takes care of you.

word count: 680

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒) 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝

You slowly open your eyes, the dim light filtering through the curtains making your head throb faintly. The soft cushions of the couch under you feel inviting yet suffocating as a wave of grogginess washes over you as you gain your senses back as you slowly get pulled out of your sleep. 

Your body is wrapped in a blanket, but it hardly warms the chill that has settled deep within you. The dull throb in your head makes it hard to concentrate on anything, and the grey clouds outside match your mood perfectly. With a soft sigh, you reach for your phone, but you already know there’s no urgent message waiting for you. All you want is to feel better.

You hear the gentle clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. The aroma of simmering food drifts through the air, weaving itself into the cosy cocoon you’ve made for yourself in the living room. It’s a comforting scent that momentarily distracts you from your discomfort. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the smell envelop you before you pull yourself together and decide to investigate the source of the lovely aroma. 

Rising from the couch feels like a monumental task, but the prospect of something warm and hearty is enough motivation to coax you to your feet.

As you shuffle into the kitchen, the scene before you makes you smile—John is standing at the stove, his broad back turned to you as he stirs a pot with a wooden spoon. You shuffle up behind him 

and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back. The familiar warmth of his body feels like a shield against the chill that has seeped into your bones.

“Hey love,” he says softly, glancing back at you with a gentle smile that lights up his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You reply with a weak smile, “You know… I’m surviving.”

“Just surviving? That’s not good enough.” He turns off the heat and sets the wooden spoon down before turning to face you fully. “Come here.” He opens his arms, and you step into his embrace, relishing the warmth and safety it provides.

“What are you making?” you ask, curiosity piqued as you shift slightly in his arms, looking up at him.

“Scouse, to warm you up,” he replies, his hands resting tenderly on your back. “It was what I used to get as a boy when I was feeling under the weather. Thought it might do the trick for you too.”

You can’t help but smile, picturing John as a little boy in a cosy, bustling kitchen, the smell of hearty stew filling the air as his mother busily prepared him something comforting. The image brings a sense of nostalgia that softens the dull ache in your head. “That sounds perfect,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

John’s expression brightens, as though you’ve just given him the greatest gift.

“Did I ever tell you about how my mum used to make scouse?” he asks as he gently runs a hand over your back in a soothing pattern. “She always said the secret is to let it cook slowly, so all the flavours blend together perfectly.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the easy affection in his stories. “And eat it when you’re sick?”

“Exactly. It’s the best remedy. Add a little love, and it’ll cure anything.” He leans back against the counter, pulling you a little closer against his chest. “Well, almost anything.” 

As you watch him, a wave of comfort washes over you. It’s the way he moves around the kitchen, the way he takes the time to make something special for you, even when you don’t feel your best. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“You deserve it.”

His words wrap around, filling you with warmth and affection. In that moment, the world outside fades away—the grey clouds, the biting cold, even the dull throbbing in your head becomes a little more tolerable, eclipsed by the soothing presence of your husband.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

[softaestluv]

Johnny who makes it everyone else’s problem that he hasn’t got laid in weeks, that he’s so fucking pent up he can feel it in his teeth. Won’t stop his Scottish whining that his hand isn’t enough, needs a warm cunt to fuck or he’ll go insane.

So, you take one for the team, let him fuck all his pent up cum inside of you because you don’t think you can hear another description of how sad his hand feels. Hope to get him to shut the hell up.

But now he just won’t stop whining about needing to fuck your cunt.

[batsybat91]

"No, no, no, you have to believe me!!" Soap argues with Gaz. "He has a little fiancée who lives in a cottage with him! She planted flowers in his walkway! And she scolded him for crushing them when he was piss drunk!"

"Ghost doesn't even like flowers," Gaz sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this is the hundredth time he's heard this. Maybe it is, knowing Soap. "Not unless they're dead, I reckon."

"I swear it on me mum and me sisters!" Soap exclaims, raising his right hand as if swearing on the Bible. "She had a little bookcase under her telly, and embroidered throw pillows on the couches! With blankets softer than anythin' I have ever seen!"

"Enough!" Price grumbles, sitting up from his chair like a father who has heard enough bloody arguing. "Soap, stop making up stories. Gaz, stop instigating shit."

"No, no! Cap, you gotta believe me!" Soap begs. "She answered the door in a pink slip gown! She had paintings of flowers on her walls! With butterflies!"

"Oh, aye, and d'ya suppose she had curlers in her hair?" Price snorts. "I've been to Ghost's house, Soap. It has movie posters, pinup girls, and ashtrays. Nothing like what you're saying."

"How long ago was that?!" Soap exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"I'd say about two years ago," hums Price, scratching his beard thoughtfully.

Just then, Ghost walks into Price's office, where the boys had been idly chatting. Price offers him a cigarette, which Ghost refuses. "My lady asked me to stop smokin'," he grunts. "Started chewin' gum instead."

"Oh, right." Gaz tosses a crumpled sticky note at Ghost. "You and Soap are trying to play a prank on us, innit?"

"It's real!" Soap shouts, exasperated.

"What's real?" Ghost crosses his arms.

"The woman at your house! In the pink nightie with the pretty eyes and the flowers!" Soap points at him with an accusing finger. "Your fiancée."

Ghost just shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. Price and Gaz are still looking at Soap like he needs to be locked up in an asylum.

"Johnny, I'm going to ask this gently," Gaz begins. "Are you bloody mental?! Makin' up a story like this?"

"It's not!" Soap whines. "She's real! She told me I could check on him the next morning after he got shite-faced at the bar!"

"She give you a kiss on the cheek too?" Gaz mock-pouts at Soap.

"She better not have," Ghost growls.

All three heads turn to look at him in unison, the argument falling silent. "What?" Price and Gaz ask while Soap leaps out of his chair.

"I fucking-! I fucking told you so!" he stammers. "Tell 'em, Ghost!"

Ghost shakes his head. "Keepin' her safe, Johnny. Not that you'd understand that."

Part I

Tags: @xylov, @just-lilita

[lustjunkiie]

i have baby fever so…

Single Dad!Simon Riley whose daughter is so sweet.

You, a sweet and humble hairdresser in your salon which you’ve bought and built from the ground yourself, having a walk-in appointment with a 6’4” hulking man, and his most precious angel. A black surgical mask covering his jaw, mouth and nose.

His little angel, who you learn to be Amelia, climbs into your chair with the cutest grunts of struggle and eventually a triumphant sigh. Her dad, in his effortlessly silky, gruff voice, explains that her hair is now down to her knees practically and he needs help. Her mother left when she was young and he’s only ever had one brother.

You chuckle softly and nod, and his daughter looks up at you after you explain that you’ll be trimming her gorgeous hair and demonstrating some simple braiding techniques to her father, and in the tiniest, cutest little Londoner accent:

“Thank you for helping my Daddy.” You nearly burst into tears at her shining hazel eyes and her big, toothy smile. You nod and begin sectioning her hair after placing a pink apron over her front. She beams to her Dad, “Look! She gave me pink!” He laughs and his eyes shine with pride. She’s so good at communicating, even though she barely looks five. She’s so adorably tiny, too.

At the end of the appointment, Simon has learned three different braid styles. He’s a natural, you assure him. You curl his daughter’s hair just before she leaves, and she does a little dance around the place in her princess dress. Her dad picks her up, and he smiles at you. Thanking you in that knee-weakening voice of his. He promises he’ll be back with any hair concerns, and he even tips you extra.

Before he leaves, his daughter points at you and asks if he can take you home. He responds, without missing a damn beat:

“Mm, only if she wants to come home with us.” He winks at you for good measure.

You think that maybe that idea isn’t so bad.