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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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How I met your father pt.1

An COD au for the series How I met your mother, the boys are civilian in this and live in London.

Reader is described as plus sized

Tw: Author only knows shit about London from vacation

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James and Sophia sat on the couch in the living room, bantering about what they should watch today. It was usual for the kids to start World War III over TV privileges. Sophia won and settled for a romance movie. “Mom, how did you and Dad get married?”

“It was the summer of 2021. Your Uncle John and Aunt Holly had finally gotten engaged. They were searching for their own apartment in London, which led me to move in with Johnny in a shoebox apartment in Ealing. He was working as a gym instructor at that time—hard to believe, I know—but he needed that extra money for his law studies. I was still working at the investment banking firm where I met Kyle. We spent most of our time at a pub in London called The Swan near Hammersmith.”

“Are you getting to the point?”

“It’s a long story, sweetheart.”

“I wish I never asked.”---------

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Price and Holly had been all over each other since their engagement, his hands never leaving her hips, her lips never leaving his. You were glad for your best friend, but the urge to settle down yourself grew every day.

That day, Simon came into the pub. You had never seen him before, but you were mesmerized instantly. He was the biggest man you had ever seen—bulky, handsome and dressed in a black turtleneck.

“Bonnie, are you even listening?” Johnny complained, tugging on your arm as he always did when he tried to grab your attention.

“That guy at the bar? I’m going to marry him and have a bunch of blonde-haired mini-versions of him,” you declared. He was the definition of your dream man.

Kyle eyed Simon and smirked. “I can understand that. I’d fuck him—both of you at the same time if you’d let me, babe.” That earned him a swat from Price.

“You fuck everything that has two legs and is above 21.”

“If you look this good, it would be unfair to settle down.”

“Yes, what would the girls do without a Kyle Garrick by their side?” Holly replied sarcastically.

Holly and you had known each other for ages, even before her transition. You were there for her during the hardest time of her life, supporting her when her parents kicked her out. You found a small apartment in Brent and moved in with her.

One day, Mrs. Miller from downstairs forgot to take out her roast, and the apartment complex was engulfed in flames. You thought it was over, but that’s when you met John Price. He was very new to firefighting then—not the imposing captain he is now. He was just John.

“I think everything will be better now,” Holly said, and she was right. She got together with John a few weeks later. As for you, you met Johnny in college. You were hurrying down the stairs when you ran into him. You were ready to hear, “Watch where you’re going, cow,” but instead, he helped you up, and just like that, you became inseparable. Johnny and you spent every day together—shopping, studying for exams, cooking. You even held his hand when he got his nipples pierced, and he was there when you got that terrible UTI from a one-night stand. At one point, you were sure John MacTavish was your soulmate, but you were content with being his platonic soulmate, playing the role of the funny friend.

You motivated him to go to law school even when no one believed he could do it with his ADHD. Johnny had his first internship at the investment banking firm where you got your job in HR. Everything was perfect, and then you met Kyle.

Kyle could be a supermodel. He won the genetic lottery many times over—he had the prettiest face, a perfect muscular body, and, according to half the office, the biggest dick you could wish for. Despite the odds that he would even notice you, he spent every lunch with you and became one of your best friends, much to Johnny's chagrin.

“He’s not that good-looking, Bonnie. You deserve better.”

“Are you blind?” Even John could appreciate a handsome man when he saw one, and the blonde, scarred guy was beautiful.

“He’d probably crush you. He looks like the type who’d fuck you and never call you back,” Johnny protested. He knew what he said was unfair, but he just wanted to protect you.

“Are you implying I’m only good for one night, John Callan MacTavish?”

“Full name, Johnny—you better run.” John laughed as if you weren’t close to telling Kyle that Johnny’s middle name was William. Kyle had offered you £1,000 for John’s middle name.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, Bonnie. He’s just not good enough.”

“I can decide that for myself, Johnny.”

“Before you start World War III, maybe find out if he’s actually single,” Holly suggested, and she was right. So you looked at Kyle with puppy eyes.

“Don’t worry, babes. I’ll handle it.” Kyle was the perfect wingman, though Johnny always declined his offers.

“Hey, mate, mind if I actually sit down?” Kyle asked, not waiting for Simon’s reply and already sitting down.

Simon only replied with a gruff hello, not in the mood for the overly cheerful man. He was here because he had to be. His brother’s wife had organized a blind date for him. He had half a mind to stand her up but didn’t want to disappoint Beth.

“So, you’re waiting for someone?”

“I missed the part where this is your business.”

“So, no date? Single?”

“I have a blind date.”

“What’s her name?”

Simon just stared at him. If he left now, he could watch the Manchester game against Tottenham.

“I’m just asking because my friend has a blind date and wasn’t sure if it’s you.”

Simon could detect a lie from a mile away, but he was interested in where this was going, so he lied, “Rachel.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’ll show you, Rachel.” Fucking liar, Simon thought, but then he saw you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered as he stood up, walking towards you.

His blind date was forgotten—sorry, Beth—but you were exactly his type, shorter than him with the right amount of curves. You had a beautiful smile and a face that almost made him forget about your soft chest that pushed against your shirt and the belly pouch he wanted to grab as he rutted inside of you. Concentrate, Simon.

He extended his hand, and you shook it, looking at him with big eyes. “Hi,” you said, your breath almost stuck in your throat. His smirk grew wider, noticing the effect he had on you.

“Simon.”

“Simon?”

“Simon.”

You wanted to punch yourself for being so awkward, but all the confidence left your body. You wanted to run back to Johnny and beg him for help, but if you had looked back, you would only see anger in his baby-blue eyes.

“Let’s go to the restaurant. I have a reservation.” You looked confused but only nodded. How did he have a reservation if he didn’t even know you four minutes ago? But that’s a question for another day.

The Italian restaurant was beautiful, far from the tourists. It looked authentic, and the staff was overly nice.

“So, what do you do, Simon?” you asked, pushing your fork into the pasta.

“I was a lieutenant in the army but got discharged. I’m doing tattoos now.” His voice sounded gruff, and you weren’t sure if it was just his voice or if he was annoyed by you. You didn’t even know what major lies Kyle had told him about you—hopefully not something like the time, he told a girl he was Lewis Hamilton. He did look like him, though.

“Do you have many tattoos yourself?” Curiosity piqued, you couldn’t see much behind his long black pants and the turtleneck. The only evident body modification was the piercing on his tongue you noticed.

He pulled his sleeves up, revealing tattooed sleeves covering some scars. You wouldn’t have noticed them if your manicured finger hadn’t instinctively traced the fine lines of the beautiful artwork.

“You like them?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“I have a few more.”

“How many is a few?” You didn’t have the guts to ask where.

“About 23. Do you have any?” You remembered how you wanted to get one the day Johnny got his piercing, but you chickened out as usual.

“I’m afraid of needles.”

“It only hurts like this,” he replied, tracing the outline of his jewelry on your skin, giving you goosebumps and shivers. Embarrassing—you were acting like a schoolgirl because an overly handsome man gave you attention. “Tell me what you do for a living, love.”

You didn’t have a cool job like him or John, a well-paid one like Kyle’s, or as sexy as Johnny’s. “I’m just an HR coordinator.”

“Leave the ‘just’ out of that sentence.”

The server rolled out a TV, starting the Premier League game. You desperately wanted to watch it—oh god, you promised Johnny you’d watch it.

“What’s so interesting there?” He looked around. “Into football?” His caramel-colored eyes lit up, and he seemed smitten.

“Yes, I love Tottenham.”

“Do you want to send me to an early grave? My date is a Tottenham fan?”

“Hey, they’re good! Are you a Manchester fan?”

“Of course, born and bred there.”

“Tottenham will win.”

“In your dreams.”

You watched the game in anticipation, screaming your lungs out when Tottenham scored. Even if he wanted to be disgusted, he could get used to this—a soft little thing watching football with him.

Maybe he’d even get lucky today. He still needed to work on your taste, though.

You walked outside the restaurant, too distracted by cheering and laughing to notice his big hands around your waist as he walked with you towards his apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was above his shop in Camden.

“We’ll win next time,” he said, his thumb kneading the flesh of your hip.

“Sure you will.” He stopped at an ice cream shop next to his apartment. “What’s your favorite?”

“Honeydew melon.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Say something normal like strawberry.” He laughed, flicking his thumb over your lips. You automatically parted them and stopped pouting at his ice cream insult.

He ordered your ridiculous ice cream choice and for himself, dark chocolate ice.

“Want to try?”

“No.”

You licked the ice as some of the remaining cream stayed on your lips. “Not even now?”

“Cheeky little minx.” His burly hands cupped your full cheeks as he placed his lips hungrily on yours. He could curse that you were right again—the ice cream was delicious. His hands drifted down to your hips, groaning as they filled his big hands. He wanted more, needed more, so he pushed you against the wall, placing his hand behind your back to protect you from the cold.

The kiss was perfect, but when you felt his way too big bulge against your stomach, overthinking thoughts bombarded you. You didn’t shave, what if he didn’t like your body, you had on a pink thong and a grandma bra, what if he was a serial killer? You panicked, and before Simon could address your panic, you were already running to the next tube station.

“That’s a first,” he muttered.

You walked inside, finding Johnny half-naked as usual on the couch, glaring at you. “You missed the match.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I’m an idiot.”

“You ran away again?”

“Mhm.”

He sighed as he walked to the fridge, his six-pack glistening with sweat, probably from a workout. You should be used to that sight after six years, but it still made you breathless. “Got a tub of honeydew ice cream and vinegar crisps.”

You planted yourself on the small couch and dipped the crisps in the ice as Johnny listened to everything you had to say.

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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Loser Simon

Tw: he is really pathetic, choking, stalking, masturbation, unprotected sex, baby trapping, micro penis,

A/N: credits to @dumbbitchgalore got inspired by her Pathetic Price fic

The light flickered in the dirty bathroom stall of the pub he went to after Price said they needed to celebrate their win. Well, it was his win; the others were just there. He had every reason to be cocky today. He was a handsome bloke with big muscles and perfect at his job. So when that bird approached him at the pub, which Johnny had eyed for hours, he thought, "Fuck it," and went with her into the dirty pub toilet.

His self-confidence struck again, too high. He should know by now what was about to happen when she removed his jeans, revealing his small member in contrast to his big size. Most of the time, the women or men started to laugh at him before they left. Some hoped he was a grower—he wasn’t. The worst was when a woman finally managed not to laugh, and he came in her face before she even put her lips on him. To a certain degree, he knew he was pathetic, but his confidence always got in his way, so he tried again and again, with the same result.

His sloppy lips licked hers, eager for her to grant his long tongue entrance. His big hands massaged the soft flesh of her ass before she went down on her knees, fighting with his belt. She was so eager, expecting the biggest dick she had ever seen from the 6’4" man. Unfortunately for Simon, she started to laugh when she saw his tiny package standing proud and already leaking precum like a faucet. "That's a joke," she said and just didn’t stop laughing at him, making him lose his cool. He wrapped his calloused hands around her delicate throat. He knew he wouldn’t kill her—he wasn’t a psychopath, after all. "If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking kill you," he threatened. Her laughing stopped and turned to an expression of pure fear as she nodded to keep his small secret.

"That was fast, mate," Gaz mentioned as Ghost returned to their booth.

"That bird was into crazy shit, and I don’t dip my dick in crazy," he replied, getting an approving nod from Price and Gaz, who had their fair share of crazy women over the years. But only Johnny raised his brow suspiciously. He always knew something was wrong with the Lt's sex life—not that he minded, but it was suspicious.

Price didn’t flirt with birds since he was still obsessed with his ex-wife, comparing every woman to Mrs. Price, who he cheated on in a moment of weakness. Kyle didn’t flirt with the girls or boys in the pub since he had a friends-with-benefits thing with you, the most beautiful nurse on base. Poor Kyle fell for you in that act. He himself flirted with every above-average attractive lad or lass who went into the pub, but Ghost—he never had a girl at home, and all the girls he took with him for fun returned minutes later with a traumatized look on their faces. Johnny was pretty sure the Lt was into some kinky stuff or was one of those guys who busted their load way too fast. He just knew something was wrong.

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He had half a mind to go to the brothel for his birthday to finally get over his fucking virginity. They were paid to do it, so they wouldn’t turn him down or laugh at him. His plans changed quickly when he saw you in front of his barrack, holding a cupcake with a candle in it, telling him "Happy Birthday" with that beautiful smile of yours. He really wanted to say thank you, but instead, he just looked at you and grumbled. You tried to lighten the mood by telling him you baked it yourself and that it was red velvet.

"How do you know I like red velvet?"

"You always choose red velvet over any other flavor when there are cookies in the mess hall," your eyes still shined as you held the delicious treat under his nose. He grabbed it without even saying a simple thank you and closed the door. Well, Kyle told you, you shouldn’t bring him something for his birthday. The Lt was weird and mean, was all he said. You should be happy if he didn’t spit in your face after trying your treats.

Kyle’s warning was fair. You shouldn’t have baked for the Lt—not because of his rude gestures. You just should never feed a stray dog, or it gets attached to you. And having that big broody Lieutenant attached to you was a death sentence you weren’t prepared for.

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Ghost knew he wasn’t a particularly good human, never was, and never would be. But right now, he felt like the worst human alive. Ever since you gave him that sweet treat, he was obsessed with you. It started innocently—he wanted to find out your name, your dislikes, your friends. It went a bit too far when he knew your blood type, bra size, and social security number. But that happens, okay? You need to forgive him for being so eager. It’s romantic, after all—or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But now he stood in your room while you were roaming around the base, his small dick in one hand and a pair of your used panties he nicked from the laundry bin in the other. The images of you weren’t enough anymore. He needed the real thing—needed to smell and taste you, finally make you his.

Your panties smelled so good to him. All thoughts of getting a prostitute flushed away. You’d be the one to take his virginity. You’re way too sweet to laugh at him. You’ll take him and love him—all his selfishness, the killing—you won’t care. You will love him just like he loves you.

Something was different. Your friends called you paranoid, but you couldn’t be. For a month, no guy hit on you, Kyle broke off your fuck buddy arrangement—god, you missed his dick—no CO yelled at you, you lost at least 20 pairs of your panties. Your pillow smelled weirdly no matter how often you washed it or even replaced it. Your shampoos and perfumes went empty. You were probably going crazy. Your friends were right.

You were already putting on your pajamas when the door rang. To your surprise, the Lieutenant stood in front of you. "We’re going on a date."

"Uh, how about you ask me first?" you argued. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to—everyone around the base had a crush on him, and you kind of did too. But still, he could have asked.

He didn’t even answer and gave you a big bag. "In 30 minutes outside."

You went inside and opened the bag. To say you were shocked was an understatement of the year. Inside the bag was the black dress you eyed in the mall a month ago in your size, the YSL heels you pinned on Pinterest, and even a set of Victoria's Secret underwear. How did he know all this stuff? Maybe Kyle told him your size, you thought. And who are you to complain about free YSL heels?

The date was interesting. Simon—how you should call him from now on—didn’t talk much, but he was a good listener. He looked even hotter without the mask and paid for the bill without even a blink. If he had talked, it would have been the best date of your life.

Back at the base, he pushed you against the wall, claiming your mouth as his. Everything about him was big and clumsy. You tried to teach him that your nipples weren’t a trigger on a gun, and he was at least eager to learn—that’s more than you’d expect from most of your Tinder dates.

You were surprised when you pulled his dick out from his pants, and he wasn’t as big as everyone thought he would be. But hey, that’s okay. At least it wouldn’t hurt, you thought, as you slowly glided your cunt on his leaking cock. The sounds Simon made were heavenly—he didn’t hold back like other men. He was moaning and whimpering while you bounced on his dick, his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

His thick fingers drew circles around your clit, pulling moans from you. He was so attentive, focusing on your needs, and fuck, everything his dick lacked, his fingers could give you.

"Oh God, Simon," you whimpered as he increased the speed of his thick digits circling your pearl like no one ever did before. Making you cum wasn’t a side quest for him—it was everything that mattered right now.

"So good for me, Babygirl. Fuck, show me how much you love being filled out by me." Your cunt started to clench around him when he used that commanding voice on you. It didn’t take much for Simon to finally bust his load inside of you, heavy balls being emptied as you milked him for all he was worth.

"I love you, Babygirl," was all he muttered. You would have run away if you weren’t in an orgasmic bliss.

He was incredibly proud of himself for how long he lasted, and that you didn’t notice how he came in his pants after you kissed him for the first time. That could happen, okay?

Simon caressed your hair while you lay on top of his strong body. He was 1000% sure that he was going to marry you. You took his dick without laughing, and you’re so sweet. He should teach you to get rid of your naivety tho. Having sex without condoms on the first date—really, sweetheart? As if your sugar pills could prevent him from knocking you up.

#cod #cod mwii #call of duty #cod x reader #cod mw2 #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost #simon my beloved #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x oc

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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Is the military law plink about cheating?

No it's about the frateenization law you know not sleeping with your co

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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COD porn links part 2

You liked my porn links so I thought I'd search again

A/N: for these of you who Klick on it and say you're traumatised or complain it's porn, if it traumatisez you don't Klick on it lol

Johnny

It's okay by military law as long as I don't put it in , bonnie

Johnny has a foot fetish

Just Johnny being Johnny

John Price

He loves to make his wife wet

Your Captain isn't a soft lover

Price after you flirted with a recruite

Dryhumping Price

Kyle

Kyle loves you and your cunt

Romantic kyle

Tinder date with officer Kyle

Ghost

Virgin Simon

How your lieutenant likes to see you

That's 1000000% Simon Riley

Teaching his favourite rookie a lesson

König

Kortac is fine with frateenization

Königs big hand fingers you

König with his barracks bunny

Loser König

Extras:

That's so threesome with Johnny and Simon coded

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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It wasn't the plan for you making me sad. I'm here to make you sad👁️👄👁️

Fine I'll write an happy ending

I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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Barracks Baby

Summary: After sleeping with four of your fellow teammates, you need to navigate through pregnancy and finding out who the Baby Daddy is

You should have listened to your mother, was all you thought when you looked at that bloody positive stick in your hand. Your mother always said, "Don’t whore around; you’re going to end up pregnant and unwed. Keep your virginity until marriage," blah blah blah.

What your mom didn’t tell you were the effects of living on a military base. You wouldn’t call yourself a barracks bunny—you only slept with four guys; there must be more to it for earning that title. And who could judge you? Everyone would if they could. These four men were everything every other man lacked on earth. No one could make you cum as many times as John could, no one could make you feel so stupid like Simon could, no one was as pretty and nice as Kyle—fucking him in any other position than missionary would be a crime against humanity—and no one had as much stamina as Johnny; he could go for at least six rounds, shove a protein bar between your pouty lips, and go four more.

You weren’t sure what to do. That was a lie—you always wanted kids, just not like this, not in this situation, without knowing who the baby daddy is, being employed by the military, and best of all, being broke. Of course, you could call your best friend Conny; she would always support you with the baby, but even she couldn’t help you break the news to the boys.

Your mother would probably kill you—no, she wouldn’t, but she would tell you all about eating liver sprinkled with fish oil, quitting your job, and getting into a relationship with that loser Mark you once dated. He would still take you after being knocked up, but how could you return to that after having these four guys?

You needed to tell them; you knew it. There was no other way around this situation. Maybe one of them would step up. You were sure if it was Price's baby, he would support you mentally and financially, though your military career would be destroyed. Simon would be a different story; he hated kids—or at least that’s what you thought. He never wanted them, never anything more than a fling. Johnny would be the safest choice; he would take care of you, step up, marry you, and make you a cute housewife in the Highlands. No more working sounded good right now to you. Kyle was a wildcard; he would support you—he was a good guy—but he never spoke about kids. He could either love them or hate them.

You stood up; it was enough time sitting on the toilet and overthinking. You walked outside, gripping the stick tightly and holding it against your stomach, trying to hide it from the rookies walking past you. They had too much fun; if you were with Simon right now, you’d make them run laps for smiling. Rookies aren’t there to be happy; they are there to suffer. Fuck, you’re going to be a terrible mom, you thought. You treated rookies badly, you forgot to feed your hamster once, and you’re only good at shooting and fucking—what will you teach this kid? The anxiety inside of you only grew bigger with every passing second.

You reached the meeting room, sat down, and sighed as you took out your phone, scrolling until you found the Group chat 141 + Hot Stuff. You remembered how Johnny changed it after you joined and how the Lt. threw a fit over it.

You: Important things to discuss, please come to the meeting room, now.

Daddy <3: Everything okay?

Emo Boy: Affirmative

Pretty Boy: Can I finish the set?

Bubbles: It’s 7 am, I’m not coming

You: NOW

With that, everyone agreed. You weren’t sure how to break the news. "Hey, I’m pregnant; it might be any one of you. Surprise, Daddy!" wasn’t a good idea. Leaving the pregnancy test out on the table as if it were a loaded gun wasn’t a good idea either. Well, you had to admit it was like a round of Russian roulette, just more deadly.

Simon was the first to join. He looked at you as if he knew but kept his mouth shut. After a few minutes, everyone was sitting at the table, looking at you in confusion. You never called a meeting; it would be uncalled for as a Sergeant anyway.

"Why are we here, Bonnie?" Soap destroyed the silence you had hidden yourself in.

You could talk now, explain it, or say anything to make it sound better, but all you could say was a miserable, "I’m pregnant."

Shocked expressions would be an understatement. John tugged on his beard, Johnny lost the color from his face, Kyle looked as if he were a teenager caught past curfew, and Simon’s expression was unreadable to you.

"I’m not sure who the father is among you four," the second bomb went off.

"How could that happen?" was all Johnny said.

"Yes, how could that happen," you spat out sarcastically.

"Babe, please let me cum inside, need you raw." "Let Daddy breed you, Sweetheart, need you all full for me." "The condom broke again, Bonnie." "I’ll pull out, love." Yes, how could that have happened?

"I’m out of this shit," Ghost’s words cut deeper than a knife as he stood up and left without another word. By your luck, he was probably the Dad.

"My mother is going to kill me."

"You’re 28, Gaz, no one’s going to kill you. You’re not a bloody teenager anymore."Price spoke in a stern voice.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"I’ll give you financial support if it is mine or if you want to get rid of it," when you thought Ghost's words hurt, then Price killed you. He made you on the edge of breaking down—correction, you broke down. The tears in your eyes already streamed down your cheeks; damn hormones. Price looked at you in guilt. He wanted to speak up, but Johnny went first.

"That’s fucking great news, Bonnie. If it’s mine, oh God, I always wanted a wee bairn. Think of him looking like me, or getting twins—the MacTavish genes are pretty strong. We’re getting a wee lad, probably a 10-pounder like me."

Ten pounds—that’s a whole ass turkey. You didn’t even get the chance to excuse yourself before you ran outside, throwing up again. "Fuck, what did I get myself into?"

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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That's retired John Price and you can't change my mind

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mrsparrasblog · 11 months ago

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Hey, I'm still alive. The last few weeks were kinda crazy for me. I had a lot to do at work, was sick, and got a lot of unnecessary hate in my ask box. On a positive note, I graduated from the college part of my apprenticeship. I was so proud of myself since the hard work paid off and I got amazing grades. We'll just forget about the C in sports, lol. I even graduated with a certificate in English.

Somehow, I didn't want to ruin my good moment with all this negativity and just wanted to enjoy it for a bit. So no, I didn't abandon this blog, and I'll come back between today and Sunday with College Ghost part 3.

Hope you had great weeks.

Love,

Bella 💜

#bella rambles

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mrsparrasblog · 1 year ago

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Hope you're okay

Nikto x Reader

Days like this made him forget what kind of man he was, holding you in his arms while you looked at him as if he were the most precious thing alive. You were different from him—sweet, soft, kind, and lovable. Days like these made the voices in his head shut up.

Your fingers traced down the hair on his abs, giggling every time you made him flinch from the friction.

"Do you remember how we met?" you asked. How could he have forgotten? You were already the center of his attention before you knew him, and when you were in the park, almost being harassed, he stepped out of the shadow he was comfortable in and protected you. It took a year of convincing him that he was good enough for you to finally date.

"How could I forget, my dorogaya?"

"Mhm, and do you remember when we had our first time together?" Your fingers traced down to his happy trail, the familiar friction making him unbelievably hard. The domesticity of your mornings stirred something in him that he thought had died many years ago.

"Still thinking about it," he said, placing his hand on your cleavage, slowly making circles on your delicate skin.

"And do you remember how you proposed to me?" you started to giggle again.

"Thought your father would say no." He never feared anything more in his life; he would rather endure his torture again than speak with your dad.

"And Nikto?"

"Yes, solnishka?"

"Do you remember how you killed me? How you choked the light out of my eyes that day?"

His eyes looked at the empty spot on the bed before he stood up and crossed out a day on his calendar. Two hundred sixty-five days without you marked the calendar, two hundred sixty-five days since he lived with the guilt of killing the love of his life and their unborn child in one of his episodes. Two hundred sixty-five days since he was alive but not living, two hundred sixty-five days since he denied himself the release of death, knowing peace wasn't something he deserved anymore.

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mrsparrasblog · 1 year ago

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Look at him can you really be mad at this pretty boy?

(just ask him to kill her - he would)

College roommate Ghost pt 2

pt1

College Ghost who walks shirtless in your dorm all the time just to bother you.

College Ghost who sees you do your silly night routine that leaves you smelling like cinnamon, strawberries, vanilla, and all that stuff.(He says you stink but smells your sheets when you shower)

College Ghost who thinks about ripping those silly pink satin pajamas off your body.

College Ghost who wakes up every day watching you do pilates and mocks you for it, "Never done a real workout, princess?"

College Ghost who hates you so much that he doesn't stop talking about you to Price, Gaz, and Soap.

College Ghost who sleeps with the complete opposite of you( girl male with different features) and just can't cum.

College Ghost who is only meaner to you since that accident.

College Ghost who walks in on you getting pounded in the community shower by your trust fund law boyfriend, while all you do is stare at the wall, hoping the miserable sex is soon over.

College Ghost who is definitely not jealous, never.

College Ghost who, on one of his drunk nights, brings home a girl he knows you hate and fucks her while you are peacefully asleep in the bed right next to him.

College Ghost who never thought you could be that furious, and regretted his choices when you told him that it didn't surprise you because he wasn't anything more than an insufferable man-whore brute.

College Ghost who was kinda sad but would never admit it when you stopped talking to him for a week after the incident.

College Ghost who drank himself into oblivion every night and hated waking up to your usual "choke on it" note with the aspirin.

College Ghost who walks in on you having a fight with your boyfriend, seeing how your boyfriend just hit you.

College Ghost who sends you to your room straight away, acting like a wall to protect you.

College Ghost who loses control and punches that man into the hospital.

College you who would never fall for Simon Riley; he was just a brute who hated your guts, right?

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mrsparrasblog · 1 year ago

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I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

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