#AYE AYE TEDDY

[things-you-may-need-to-hear]

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[gloomwitchwrites]

His teammates call you because he isn't handling the break up well.

I'm gonna be honest, Anon. I went a more humorous route with this (but some angst in there too because why not!) I'm just imagining all of them being completely pathetic and the one calling is on the phone like "come get your man please." So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, some angst, established relationship, breakups. brief humor

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You have two minutes,” you say immediately after answering your phone.

“You need to call him,” comes Simon’s gruff voice on the other end.

You’ve only met Simon a handful of times, but he’s always been your favorite of John’s team. He has consistently treated you with kindness and respect, and he never oversteps boundaries.

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your nails, pretending you don’t care.

“He fucking misses you.”

“That’s not enough of a reason,” you reply.

It isn’t. Not really. Even if your heart aches and your stomach flips from hearing it.

“Captain isn’t taking the breakup well.”

You want to say that you aren’t either, even though you’re the one who ended things. In reality, you miss John. It’s agonizing.

“And?” you ask, trying to hide the slight crack in your voice.

“He has us running laps around the fucking track, love. Haven’t done that since I was a grunt who couldn’t properly tie his boot laces.”

You sigh. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Yes.” Simon’s response is immediate.

Rubbing your temple, you decide to take a leap. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. Not really. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“This is absurd,” you mutter, rubbing the middle of your brow, irritation building in the back of your head.

“Just give us a few minutes,” comes Captain Price’s voice. It’s Kyle’s boss, but he’s not the only one on the phone.

“Oh, aye. Hear us out.” Soap is there, too.

For all you know, Ghost is lingering on the call, a silent entity listening in but not saying anything.

“Why? Give me a reason?”

“Kyle misses you,” says Price.

“He loves you, lass.”

This isn’t new information. You’re aware of how Kyle feels but that doesn’t change things. The two of you are not together anymore. He needs to move on.

“He’s not handling the breakup well.” This time it’s Ghost. The silent man speaks.

“What do you want me to do,” you sigh.

“Talk to him,” says Price.

“No.”

Your phone buzzes and you hold it away from your ear. It’s a text from Price. You click on it, revealing a photo.

It’s Kyle. He’s curled up in his bed in the barracks, clutching a teddy bear he won you at a carnival on your first date.

“We can come get you,” says Price.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’m sorry, John. But you shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to hear it.”

There is a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. You respect Captain John Price. The few times you’ve met him, he’d been pleasant, and he was always the first one to greet you whenever you visited Johnny on base.

“I understand that you broke it off with him.”

“John—”

“Listen. Please.”

He genuinely sounds concerned, and that gives you pause.

It’s not like you and Johnny ended things on bad terms. His life is busy. It’s dangerous. You just don’t fit in it, and the stress of never knowing when or if he’s going to come home is something far to difficult a thing to carry with you.

“He’s been struggling. Had to corner him in my office to get him to talk. He’s really hurting.”

You swallow. Lick your lips. “Why are you calling me, John?”

“I want you to talk to him.”

“John—”

“Soap is currently facedown in his bed in the barracks. Sulking.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“In person,” says John. It sounds like a command. Not an ask.

“Fine, John,” you reply, grabbing your car keys.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You need to talk to him. Simon is a bloody mess.”

“He’s fine, Johnny. He’ll get over. There was no reason for you to call me.”

Johnny snorts on the other end. “You don’t think so? I thought he was going to crush a new recruit’s skull in this morning.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in talking with Simon right now.”

Is it really a breakup? No. Not really. More like a separation. Simon has your whole heart, but he’s stubborn and cold. His shell is difficult to crack.

“That’s too bad. Because I’m here.”

“You’re—what?”

“Aye. Walking up to your front door right now.”

You blink. Aghast. “John MacTavish you better not—”

There is a sharp series of knocks at your front door. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter.

Growling, you storm to the front door, phone still pressed to your ear. You unlatch the deadbolt and yank the door open. Johnny is standing on the other side, his phone also held to his ear. He gives you his biggest grin.

You want to smack it right off his face.

“What are you doing?”

Johnny ends the call. “I’m taking you to Simon.”

[cupcakeinat0r]

Still thinking of Dadbod!Miguel to this day…

“I wonder what she’s up to right now. I hope she’s having fun.”

Your voice rings against the tiles of a shared bathroom, the lights of the grand mirror bleeding into the dark bedroom adjacent to it. The only other light illuminating the space was the tv, which was for nothing because no one was watching; it was merely background noise.

“Probably running and yapping circles around them, keeping everyone up, as per usual.” You hear the rich timbre of your boyfriend from the bed. You lean back from the sink to search his expression, a knowing smile accompanied by a raised brow, framed by bifocals hanging low on his nose. Everything about your partner exuded strength, except in his vision. Poor thing could never quite make out the words of his books without them.

You and Miguel knew how energetic Gabby was. It explained her unbelievably crazy stamina showcased in her soccer games, scoring goals for her team. And as if it wasn’t uncontainable enough, Miguel insisted on always getting her ice cream afterwards, failing to turn down her precious little pleads for a sweet treat. Even though you’d give him the look, you could never deny her either. You were both push overs.

“Sounds like someone I know.” You mirror his expression, the tease in your tone registered by him.

“Hey, I’ll gladly admit to being the reason for keeping you up at night.” The gravel of his words and his dashing smile makes you retreat back to the mirror. You apply the last step of your nightly routine while smiling like an idiot. You could always play cheeky with Mig, but nine times out of ten, he’d match your energy or double it, so inevitably, you’d always lose that contest. But you didn’t mind it. You loved that Miguel was always turned on, even by the smallest of things. He was always hungry for you.

Taking your bashful giggle as a sign of his victory, he returns to his book, one that looks too small for his hands.

He speaks whilst eyes are glued to the page, “But I’m sure she’s having fun, mamita. She’s always adored her cousins. And her uncle, for that matter.”

“Gabriel is pretty good with her.” You say with a smile as you leave the bathroom.

“Yeah, maybe too good. Starting to think you and him are the favorite.” He sets the book and his glasses onto the nightstand to draw his attention all on you: the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, even bare faced and in pjs.

With curled lips and folded arms, you look down at him. Like a child waiting for his teddy bear, his arms spread out for you to fall into, like he does every night when he waits for you to finally come out the bathroom.

“Babyyy, not true,” you can’t help but look all over your man, the bed frame only just fitting him; The figure of a man who maybe lets his daughter choose dessert over sliced fruit too much, but that’s more than okay. More to cling onto at night.

You climb into bed, the sheets feeling nice and warm, but nothing compared to the beautiful blend of cushion and hardness your boyfriend has somehow mastered.

“Mamita… Gabby is crazy about you. She wouldn’t stop asking for you after the first time you went to her game with me.”

“I know Gabby loves me, but it doesn’t mean she loves you any less.”

“Oh, I know, I know…” you both shuffle in bed as you find a comfortable position for the night, tangled bodies exchanging equal parts of coolness and warmth. Miguel flinches and lets out a small ‘ay’ when your frozen-solid feet touch his legs, to which you softly apologize immediately, adding a kiss.

“But she really is in love with you. She’s actually, uh…”

He looks down at the minuscule space between you two, looking to finish his sentence,

“… been wanting to call you ‘mom’ for a bit now.”

You smile widely at the admission, “wait what?!” Your quiet disbelief makes Miguel smile, too.

“Yeah,” his voice softens. “She’s just been nervous to say so, but she’s told me.” His fingers trace shapes on your outer thigh, his gentle gaze spilling with adoration.

He lets out a short huff, “What can I say, it’s hard not to fall completely head over heels with you. I don’t blame her.” As if you couldn’t get any closer to him, he presses you against him even more. The air of his words hits your nose and lips slightly, the lowness and slight sleepiness in his voice stirring your core.

You don’t know what to say other than, “I just love you so much, Mig.” You shake your head faintly side to side. A million stars shine in your eyes, your smile ear to ear in this moment. “And to think I got you and Gabriella as a package deal. I literally won the lottery. Seeing how you are with Gabby? That’s what got me sold.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“…So it wasn’t the five star restaurants or the gifts or the trips-?” You fall into a fit of soft laughter with him.

“Baby, please, you know that wasn’t it!” You kick him under the sheets. For the entirety of your relationship, you always reminded him that the material things never mattered. You were huge on making sure he never felt taken advantage of, even though he took great pleasure in taking care of you.

“Nah, beba, I’m just messing with you. I know you’re not like that, c’mon now.” His hand messages your shoulder.

“But seriously… you’re such a good dad. I hope you know how good you’ve done with Gabby, even by yourself.”

“I try. Thank you, mama.” He humbly whispers before planting a hard kiss to your forehead, inhaling your scent.

“And thank you for treating her like your own. You treat her so good. Watching you two… I dunno, it’s like my fuel. So thank you for accepting her. And for accepting me.” Your foreheads touch now.

“I know talking to someone whose got kids isn’t always ideal-“

“What?” You scoff.

“Are you kidding? The second you told me you had Gabby, I wanted to give you another one.”

And the look Miguel gives you is all too familiar.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes look you up and down. He mumbles, “You never told me that.”

“Well, it’s true, I did… I thought it was so sweet the way you spoke about her that first dinner. And when I came over for the first time? Seeing you with her?” Your eyes widened,

“Jesus, I’m surprised I didn’t let you stay the night and-“

“And what?” Miguel cuts you off, his own breath growing short.

“Nooo, I shouldn’t say.” I feign a shameful look, your eyes darting away and failing to stifle a smile.

“Nonono,” Miguel gets on top of you, forcing you to look up at him, “Don’t stop talking now.” He starts to laugh when you do, the both of you breaking out once again that night.

“Alright, you wanna know the first thing I thought after that dinner? Our five-hour-long dinner?”

You furrow your brows, “Oh God, what?”

“I thought…” he lowers himself down, racking through and locking his fingers into your hair, cradling your head, “that she’s the one.”

Your bottom lip pouts at the declaration. “Aw baby, really?”

“Yeah…” he pauses for a moment, a guilty expression painted on his face,

“and that I also wanted to stay over and do unspeakable things to you.”

Your head falls back into the pillow and you let out a shocked laugh, cupping your mouth.

“Don’t laugh, it had been a while for me. I was deprived.” He tries his best to stay serious, but your contagious laughter is impossible to not gush over.

“Well,” you catch my breath, “not anymore.” You bite your lip, “We live under one roof now. One bed.” Your hands trail up and down his hairy chest.

He grunts, his face falling to the crook of your neck, “Gracias a dios.” He softly murmurs into your skin, “‘cuz I dunno how much longer I could’ve taken having to say bye to you at the end of every night.”

“Me either,” your sigh out.

“Baby…” you continue,

“Yes, mamita?” Your neck muffles his words.

“Guess what?”

“Hm?”

“Gabby isn’t home.” You remind him in a whisper.

Miguel lifts his head, your words clocking into his mind.

Oh, right…

“Then what the hell are we doing? C’mere.”

He sits up on the bed, placing your legs on other side of his waist. with the most wolfish smirk you’ve ever seen, marking the beginning of a very,

Very,

Very long night.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Promises

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 1.2k words

warnings/tags: fluff fluff fluff

“You’ll check the doors? Windows as well, aye?”

“Yes, John. I’ll make sure they’re locked before bed.” You reassure the man, holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you do exactly that, tugging on the window latches to ensure they’re shut properly, walking past each door to spy the locks are in fact in place. “No one will be coming in and touching your cigars, I can assure you of that.”

“Hm. Got precious cargo I’m more concerned about these days, than cigars.” He quips back, playing into your attempt to lighten the situation. John hasn’t been gone on deployment for a full 24 hours yet and already he’s finding himself missing you more than he thought possible. He knew being apart from you was going to be difficult, especially considering that this mission was likely to take a few months rather than a few weeks, but he hadn’t anticipated struggling so early on.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone touch your scotch either.” You say and he can just picture you adding a mischievous wink at the end. He finds himself suddenly wondering if he has any photos of you where you’re winking at him, and he feels regret creeping into his stomach at the realization that no, he probably doesn’t. Now he’s got nothing but his memory to rely on when he wants to imagine your playful expression.

It’s not as if John hadn’t made a point of taking more candid shots of you once he’d learned about how long this upcoming mission was to take. He wanted to have something tangible, something real he could wrap his fingers around, lay his weary gaze upon and be gifted with the sight of his beloved smiling back at him. And if a thick stack of Polaroids each adorned with varying expressions of your visage find themselves stuffed into the pocket of his tactical vest right above where his heart beats only for you, well then his men had best mind their business about it.

His last ditch effort to capture your beauty, to bring along with him a small fragment of the joy you bring to his life every day he spends by your side, had melted your heart thoroughly. It was sometimes hard to imagine your soft, loving teddy bear of a man, having to turn on his Captain persona and intimidate enemies on a battlefield. But then you’d hear him shouting at the television, going on about how some wanker was making a mockery of ‘The Price is Right’ (a show the two of you watched too often, if only so that John had more of an excuse to slip ‘well ya know, they do say Price is right, after all’ into arguments), or you’d catch him glaring at anyone he felt was looking at you the wrong way in public, and you couldn’t deny he was to be in a position of command.

“Don’t go answerin’ the door for anyone either, love. And make sure that the-”

“John, I’ll be okay. I promise, I’ll be careful.” You attempt to convince him before he spirals further. A man of action, John had been keeping busy in the time leading up to his departure. Trips to the hardware store to buy additional locks for the front door, jammers for the window panes, researching various brands of security systems, even going as far as speaking a little louder in the hallways outside your flat door, letting anyone who lived near enough know that a man lived here as well, not wanting anyone to know you’d be alone and vulnerable.

“I know, m’sorry to keep pestering you love.” The Captain sighs into the phone, running a hand down his phone before glancing back over his shoulder at the room. He knows he doesn’t have much more time to keep talking with you. Really, he shouldn’t have called at all, but John just couldn’t help himself. This is how he gets when it comes to you. Nothing else matters as much when it comes to you. And so yes, he admits he is being selfish by holding everyone else up in the briefing room as they wait for his return, but he doesn’t know when he’ll get to hear your voice again, and what’s the point of being Captain if you can’t pull strings when they matter? “Just wanna know you’ll be safe.”

“Now why do I feel as though I should be the one asking you that question, hm?” Your question brings a soft smile to his face. God, he misses you so much already. “You made it to- wherever you are- alright?”

“I did.” He confirms, casting another glance across the room. He can see them loading up trucks with supplies as you speak. He hates that he can’t ever tell you where he is. Can’t tell you that this base is just one of countless destinations where he’ll sleep in a bed that feels too empty without you by his side. Can’t tell you that each meal portion he eats tastes blander without you sitting across from him. “Though we’re not stayin’ here long. Flyin’ out early again in the mornin’.”

“Hm.” You hum along in response, knowing he can’t give you details, satisfied with any bit of information he can offer you in its place. “You promise me, you’ll be safe John Price. I don’t like those stories of Gaz falling out of helicopters.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing that’s the only story I’m ever lettin’ him tell you.” John can’t help but to laugh along with you, before falling more serious again, knowing he’ll have to hang up soon and leave you. “Trust me love. You don’t need to be worrying your pretty little head over me. There isn’t anythin’ that could keep me from comin’ home to you. Nothin’.”

His declaration has tears threatening to sting the corners of your eyes, treasuring this moment with him, even an unknown distance apart, knowing it’ll be some time until you can speak again. You can hear the background noise of wherever he is increasing in volume. You overhear someone shout his name, no doubt looking for him. You know your time is up for now, and that you’ll have to be the one to bite the bullet. He’s never the first one to hang up the phone with you, and this time is no different.

“I love you John. So much. I’ll see you soon.” You whisper into the receiver, hoping he can feel the love you speak into each word meant only for him.

“I love you, angel. So much. Be back before you know it.” He says, waiting to hear the ‘click’ on the other side of the line before stuffing his phone back into his slacks.

It’s true, what he said to you. There truly isn’t anything, so long as he can help it, that will keep him from coming back home to you. Not when he’s made a promise to do exactly that. Not when he’s got a small box stuffed into three pairs of socks hiding in his underwear drawer in your flat, hiding a shiny little ring he’s been holding on to since your second date. Not when he intends to make his biggest promise to you yet as soon as he’s home and holding you in his arms again, where you belong.

[lay-z]

tw: 18+; drunk!Johnny; drunk shenanigans; established romantic relationship; domesticity; abrupt ending (sorry🥺)

Picking up Johnny after he had some drinks with his teammates at the local pub—only to have him make grabby hands and groping you as soon as you're within arm’s reach.

You manage to manoeuvre him into your car like some drunk kitten, stumbling all over the place but right where you want him to go.

Eventually, you manage to bring him home—herding him once again like some German Shepherd who’s already sick of its job—but the real fun only begins there, when Johnny, the horny mutt he is, starts coming onto you again.

He's whiskey-dicking, which makes him even more whiny and needy as you sit him down on the closed toilet seat to get him undressed and ready for bed.

“C'mere, sexy, lemme make–make ye feel good,” he slurs, hiccupping in between words; his deep voice even raspier now and biting liquor thick on his breath. “Gonna rock–fuckin' rock yer world.” He groans into your neck as he makes you straddle him while you try to do his skincare routine (the one you've enforced); getting moisturizer all over your shirt and neck.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny,” you sigh, rolling your eyes with a chuckle at his attempt to get his limp dick to work as grips your hips and grinds his own upwards sloppily.

“Ye wet f’me, baby?” he asks huskily, bright blues glossy and half-lidded as you cup his face with both hands to tip it back and massage the face cream into his dry skin, scratching his stubble lightly.

You snort, drawing your eyebrows together in amusement. “No, I’m tired and you’re drunk… you silly man.”

Getting him to brush his teeth proofs even more of a struggle when he keeps sticking his toothbrush too far into his throat, causing himself to gag and whine and nearly throw up several times until you snatch the toothbrush from his hand with a huff to do it for him.

“Can’t believe I’m engaged to a toddler,” you mutter, clutching his jaw tightly in your left hand to brush his teeth with your right while he chuckles; broad shoulders shaking even harder when his drool and minty foam drip from his mouth.

“Ah f’exy ‘oddler,” he mumbles with his mouth full before puffing out his bare chest like a lovestruck peacock and flashing you a toothy, foamy grin.

Once you get him into bed and switching off the light, you heave a sigh of relief, though before you can even try to get comfortable on your side of the bed, Johnny is already scooting closer from behind; moulding himself around you and wrapping his strong arm around your waist to pull you against his chest in a vice like grip—knowing there is no escape now.

“John,” you groan in exasperation when he starts grinding his soft cock against your clothed ass while his warm breath puffs against your neck with a soft, needy whine.

“Luv’ ye, princess. Need ye,” he mumbles in between the sloppy kisses he’s peppering along the curve of your neck. “Always need ye so fuckin’ much. Cannae sleep withou’ my perfect wee teddy bear.”

Staring into the darkness with pursed lips, you try your best not to laugh at your man’s drunken antics and declarations of love while you let his greedy hands continue to grope and squeeze you, deciding that he simply needs the enrichment before he’s going to fall into a coma.

“Are you done yet?” you deadpan, raising an eyebrow when he huffs in return, and you feel the buzzed sides of his head brush over your skin along with the fluff of his mohawk when he shakes his head, nuzzling his face against your shoulder blade. His hand, already snuck under your top, splays over your lower belly before he dips his fingers below the waistband of your leggings.

“Jus’ missin’ m’stuffing now, don’t ye.”

A pause.

“Oh, because I’m your stuffed animal?” You chortle, squeezing your thighs together to keep his fingers from slipping between your folds to tease your slit. “Right… nice one.”

“Aye.” Johnny chuckles and nips at your earlobe while he rubs his fingers through the patch of your trimmed pubes insistently like a grizzly pawing at a bees nest, unable to get to your goodies while you feel him getting more riled up and frustrated by the second. “Och, please, hen–” he grouches, pinching your sensitive skin and tugging on your pubes until you gasp; arching your ass back into his crotch. “Jus’ lemme pet her f’a wee bit.”

“Ow, Johnny! Are you mental?” you squeak, cheeks flushing with warmth as you squirm in his embrace while he muffles his laughter by pressing his face between your shoulder blades; obviously having the time of his life.

“Nah, jus’ always crazy about ye, m’luv.”

[random-thot-generator]

Simon is slow to share his past with Johnny, but sometimes he'll share memories that are 'safe'.

One memory he shares is about the cuddly toy he had as a little boy. His grandmother gave it to him when he was still in nappies, and he'd kept it for years after she passed because it reminded him of her.

"Bloody thing was ugly as sin," he'd muttered, describing it. "S'posed t'be a penguin, but it had bald patches an' a missin' eye, beak all chewed up an' smashed in its face." He huffed a laugh. "Kinda like mine is now."

When Johnny asked what became of it, a pained look crossed Simon's face, a slight blush riding high on his cheeks.

"Guess I was close t'ten. Still had the ratty ol' thing, kept it hidden under the mattress. Sometimes I'd get it out if I had a bad dream. Helped me get back t'sleep." He shrugged, embarrassed. "Was too old t'be sleepin' with cuddlies, least tha's wha' m'dad said. He caught me wiff it one night, took it away, ripped it apart. Tol' me only babies slept with cuddlies."

He went quiet for a moment, then blew out a breath. "Tha' old teddy on the bookshelf, tha' was yers?"

"Aye. Da bought in a gift shop fer me after mam had me. Had ever since."

Simon nodded. "'S good ya kept it."

Three weeks later, Johnny's on loan to another task force and calls Simon, who's at home. During their video call, he spies his old teddy bear poking out of the bedcovers near Simon. He doesn't say anything, but it chokes Johnny up.

Next mission they're apart, it's Simon who's out and Johnny's home. He calls to check in to find that Johnny's relaxing in bed, drawing. Perched on Simon's pillow beside him is a brand new plushie, a fuzzy black and white penguin with yellow feet and beak.

"Wha's tha' on the pillow?"

Johnny grabs it and holds it in front of the camera, grinning wide. "Saw it an' it reminded me of ye. Had t'get it. Sleep wi' him while yer gone. Makes me feel better."

They ended up buying each other tinier versions to keep tucked away in a pocket when on assignment.

And no one dares say anything to the scary lieutenant when they see him sleeping with a wee bear clutched in his hand.

-

[babyleostuff]

[ 💿 ] . . . TAPE 9

いつでも君のそばにいること / それが何より大切さ 君も / 僕の隣にいるなら完璧 ay ya ya / 広い like the sky

☁️ "24h" by seventeen

being loved by kim mingyu means having a small big teddy bear as a boyfriend. the fact that mingyu is quite clingy not only means that you always have someone to hug, kiss, or cuddle with - but also that he is your oasis who is able to ground you. his touch, whether it's a thumb brushing your cheek, strong arms around your shoulders, or just a hand on your thigh - mingyu is always able to convey so much emotion through a simple touch, as if he was silently telling you "i'm here, don't worry." besides, there is no place where you would feel safer than in his embrace - he is your home, your safe haven, your other half that makes you feel whole.

being loved by kim mingyu means having a travel buddy with whom you could travel the whole world with if you wished. apart from physical touch, mingyu thrives off quality time - he would spend all his time with you if he could, because what's better than spending time with the people you love? and combine it with his love of travelling and discovering new places? exploring the world with mingyu would be the most beautiful adventure of your life, because this boy has the power to turn every moment into a magical and unforgettable one. whether it would be sunny italy or ice-cold iceland, every place and every thing you did would be a memory that you would treasure for the rest of your life.

being loved by kim mingyu means having someone who will always be by your side to help you get up when you fall. he's always there for you when you need him, it doesn't even need to be mentioned, but while some people coward when they see their partner going through harder times and needing more support, mingyu would go through even the hardest part of your life with you. no matter how ugly it would get, how hard it would be for you to get up - mingyu is your pillar who would always stand by you.

being loved by kim mingyu feels like a warm home to which you come back after a hard day, like the smell of the sea, like hot chocolate on a rainy day, like a hug that you don't want to end.

“i’m yours for ever -- for ever and ever. here i stand; i’m as firm as a rock. if you’ll only trust me, how little you’ll be disappointed. be mine as i am yours.” - henry james, portrait of a lady

[sidemari]

• Bun in the oven •

Some texts about you telling them that you’re pregnant and some headcanons about how they’re during the pregnancy. 

Characters included: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Keegan P. Russ, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, König, Nikto and Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader 

TW: Mild angst, mentions of abortion and insecurities, implied smut. But everything works out in the end. 

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You call him from the corner of the room, that nervous smile on your face. Soap knows right away that something big is coming — he feels it, like he senses danger on the field… But this time, it’s something different. Something good.

“Johnny… Do you remember the night you came back home after being away for so long due to that mission?” You tested the waters by avoiding telling the truth right away.

“Yeah… How could I forget that night?” He smiled warmly, his mind flashing with the images of that day. “What about it, hon?” 

“Well… You know we got carried away and…”

“And…?”

“We’re having a baby.” You finally share your secret. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. His usual playful smile disappears for a second, replaced by a stunned look, as if he’s trying to decode what he’s just heard.

“Are… are you serious?” You nod, and he… explodes with joy. He literally lifts you into the air with a surprised cry, almost laughing and crying at the same time.

“Oh my God! We’re going to be parents?! Aye, fuck, baby, is this really real?”

He kisses your forehead, then your belly, even though it hasn’t even changed yet. He murmurs a bunch of sweet things in that warm accent — promises, plans, dreams. And then he whispers very softly, just for you to hear:

“I swear I will be the best father in the world… to our baby. And the best man to you. Always.”

When the morning sickness starts, he becomes your personal bodyguard against any suspicious smells: “What the hell is that in the air?! It smells like poison, honey. Close that window!”

He researches everything about pregnancy and becomes the most emotional “expert” on the planet. He sends you messages like: “Did you know that the baby already has little fingers today? LITTLE FINGERS, BABY!”

He talks to your belly every day, telling them about his missions, his friends on the team, and asking if the baby prefers soccer or rugby: “If you kick now, it’ll be rugby, okay?”

He starts to become obsessed with photos. He takes a thousand selfies with you and your belly, even while you’re sleeping. 

He refuses to let you carry anything, literally: “Not even the bag. Not even the remote. Let me carry it, honey.”

He massages your feet every night, and even develops a ‘military relaxation technique’ just so you can sleep better.

He has a hospital bag ready with 30 unnecessary things, like three types of chocolate, a teddy bear, and a mini speaker to play Scottish music for the baby.

He’s always reminding you how beautiful you are, even when you feel uncomfortable and insecure. “No matter how big your belly is, you’ve always been the love of my life, and now you’re carrying our little miracle. And no, I don’t give a single fuck about those stretchmarks. You’re nurturing a life inside your womb and your body is adapting itself because of it. I still think you look damn hot and I’m forever thankful that those pregnancy hormones shifted you into a little insatiable thing.”

He gets touchy-feely, sometimes hugging you in the middle of the night just to say thank you. 

He makes up nicknames for the baby while he’s still in the womb, like “Little Soap”. 

He gets really emotional during the first ultrasound. He holds your hand tightly and tries not to cry… but fails miserably.

He makes special playlists with soft Scottish music, movie soundtracks and even records himself talking so the baby can hear at night.

He buys miniature army clothes, but also absurdly cute ones, like animal costumes, because “he needs to have style in the nursery”.

One day he shows up with a crib set up in the middle of the living room just because “he wanted to see if it would look nice in natural light”.

He learns to cook your favorite foods (even if it turns out to be a disaster) just so you can eat what you want safely.

He keeps notes with the dates of the first times: first kick, first time their heartbeat was heard, first photo of your belly. He’s creating a secret “dossier” of love.

He swears he’s going to be the most present father in the world. No matter how much life changes, he will always be there for you two. 

It was a quiet night at home. The sky was clear, with a million stars shining through the open window. You were sitting on the couch, with a cup of hot tea in your hands, and Soap was lying next to you, with his head on your lap, apparently tired from the intense mission of the day. The conversation was calm, but you knew it was time to tell him the news. He was so focused on caressing your stomach as you played with his hair, that he didn't notice how nervous you were.

"Did you know you're going to be the best dad in the world?" You said softly, feeling your heart race. Soap looked at you with a crooked smile, his eyes shining with evident affection.

"I have no doubt about that, love. But what do you mean, best dad? If I'm not, who will be, huh?" You laughed, but you were feeling overflowing with happiness. Suddenly, the moment was there, and it was as if time had slowed down just so he could hear your words.

"Well… I can't say who's going to be the best father, but you're the best for me, and… Our daughter is going to be very lucky." There was a pause. Soap stood up quickly, looking at you, confused, as if he hadn't quite understood. His eyes were curious, but his smile stubbornly wouldn't leave his face. 

"Wait… What?" He asked, his eyes shining even brighter. You laughed, feeling the heat rise to your face. 

"I… we're expecting a little girl." Soap's eyes widened for a moment and he was silent, processing the information. When it finally sunk in, he leaned forward, with a dazzling smile.

"A little girl?" he repeated, his voice full of disbelief. 

"Yes, a little girl," You said, your heart almost jumping out of your chest. "You're going to be the father of a little girl." And then, he simply laughed. A genuine, happy laugh, one of those laughs that seemed so honest that you felt your soul warm. He stood up from the couch, holding your hands tightly before he jumped close to you, not caring about the teacup that almost fell to the floor.

"Are you sure about this? A real little girl?" He asked again, his eyes shining with happiness.

You laughed then, finally, the feeling of nervousness disappearing. He was more excited than ever, and his happiness was contagious.

"I'm sure!" You answered, laughing along with him, the two of you hugging each other tightly. "We're going to have a daughter, Soap." He ran his hand over your belly, still not fully believing it, but with a sparkle in his eyes that didn't fade. 

"I promise that I'm going to be the best dad in the world. It's going to be a pleasure to watch our little girl grow up." You leaned back against the couch, feeling your heart beat faster. 

"I know you will." And as he continued to rub your belly, smiling like a fool and in that moment, you were more certain than ever that he was the kind of father who would do anything for her. 

Keegan P. Russ 

You hadn’t planned to tell him like this. You wanted something elaborate, symbolic… maybe a candlelit dinner, a note written in your nervous handwriting. But there, sitting on the couch, with his hand resting on your thigh and his eyes intently watching a movie, you felt the right moment — a comfortable, intimate silence, just the two of you.

“Keegan…” You began, your voice low, almost as if you were keeping a precious secret between your lips. He turned his face to you right away. He always did that — when you spoke, he listened. With his eyes, with his whole body. It was a habit of his to offer you his total presence.

“Is something wrong?” He asked immediately, already with that protective look that always came when you hesitated.

“No… it’s just...” You took his hand and brought it to your belly, as if that would be enough. Maybe it was. For a moment, he didn’t understand. He looked back at your face, at your eyes filled with unshed tears, at his hand under your still flat stomach, but which held a secret growing in silence.

“Are you...?” He didn’t finish the question, but his eyes said it all. You nodded, with a shy, uncertain, but hopeful smile. The air between you changed. He didn’t say anything for a second too long — but you saw it. His shoulders relaxed as if he had been waiting for this news without knowing. His eyes watered, and his mouth opened slowly, a whisper coming out between his lips:

“Are we becoming a family...?” The way he hugged you that night was different. It was a protective, reverent grip. As if you were made of porcelain. As if the most important miracle of his life was inside you — and it was.

The focused, meticulous soldier appeared in a new form: in nutrition spreadsheets, reminders on his phone with alarms for his snacks, vitamins, and appointments. He went with you to all of them—even when he was exhausted, even when he had just returned from a mission the day before. He sat next to you, held your hand, and listened intently to every word the obstetrician said.

Keegan was the type of person who didn’t say much, but showed it all through his actions. He learned to cook healthy meals even though he didn’t know how to cut a tomato properly at first. He would run his hands over his belly before bed every night, with a caress that felt like a silent prayer.

And when the symptoms got tough — the nausea, the aches, the bloating — Keegan didn’t run away. He showed up with tea (and if you refused to drink them, he’d force you to, saying it was for the good of the baby you were nurturing), warm blankets, and concerned eyes. He sat on the floor beside your bed when you didn’t want to talk. He was just there and it was enough. 

Sometimes, during the night, he would wake up just to check if you were still sleeping well. He would run his hand over your forehead, carefully adjusting your position, as if he could protect you even from nightmares.

Keegan, during your pregnancy, was as firm as steel and as gentle as a cozy blanket. He became your safe haven, your silent and constant guardian. He slept with his hand on your belly, talked to the baby when he thought you couldn’t hear, promised he would be there, always, that he would take care of you, that no one would ever hurt you both. 

You found him in the kitchen, cooking your latest craving: berry pie.

“Baby,” You called, leaning against the door frame. He looked up immediately, a small smile forming when he saw you there.

You walked over to him slowly, your heart racing, and pulled out the small pair of blue booties you had bought that morning.

“For when he gets here.” You said, placing the booties in his hands. A cheesy way to reveal the gender of your baby, yes, but those booties were just too cute for you to ignore. 

Keegan frowned, confused at first — until understanding dawned on him. He blinked a few times, in disbelief.

“A little boy?” He asked, almost in a choked whisper.

You nodded with an excited smile. He laughed softly, shaking his head as if he was still processing it. Then he pulled you slowly closer, resting his forehead against yours before spinning you around slowly and carefully to not make you nauseous.

“My little boy… Our little boy!” He murmured, his voice cracking with joy.

When the time arrives, Keegan is incredibly calm on the outside, but inside he is a whirlwind of emotions. He has never been so scared and so happy at the same time. He held your hand through every contraction, whispering “You can do it,” “I’m here,” “It’s going to be okay” like a mantra — as if his voice could protect you from the pain. When he heard the baby cry for the first time, his eyes filled with tears instantly. He tried to hide it, but the emotion overflowed in his eyes and in the way he smiled at you and when he held his son for the first time. He was completely mesmerized: his big fingers touched the little body with the greatest delicacy in the world, as if he was afraid of hurting his own son. 

Keegan refuses to sleep while you rest. He sits in an armchair with the baby on his lap, just observing every little detail of the newborn. When the medical team came back and found him with the baby sleeping on his chest, and you sleeping in bed, they said it looked like a scene from a movie. 

He talks to the baby even though he knows he doesn't understand: "You have your mother's eyes... And you'll be strong like her too." 

Takes pictures of the tiny feet, of the baby grabbing your finger, of you breastfeeding him, bathing him and sleeping with him and keeps them all in a folder that only he has access to.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

You realized something was wrong when you woke up with an upset stomach for two days in a row — and without having eaten anything heavy. The smell of the breakfast you loved started to make you nauseous… and that was the first warning sign. Kyle even jokingly commented: “Are you abandoning me in our sacred coffee ritual?” — and you forced a smile, pretending you weren’t worried. A few days later, you realized your period was late. A week. Then ten days. And then fifteen. And then, sweet fear hit deep in your chest.

You bought the test by yourself, on a quick trip to the pharmacy, and hid it in your purse as if it were a state secret. On a cold, slow morning, you took the test while Kyle was still sleeping. The silence in the bathroom was almost deafening as you waited the five minutes that the package indicated. Two lines. Two lines that changed everything. You stood still for long minutes, in the same position, holding the test with shaking hands and teary eyes. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. You did both. The first thing you thought was: "How am I going to tell him?" — and right after: "Will he want this with me?" 

You tried to plan a cute way to tell him. A special dinner, a little box with the test and a note. But anxiety got the best of you. You told him in a simple way, on a normal afternoon, when it was just the two of you, sitting together. He noticed something different about you, and when you shared the secret you were carrying alone, time seemed to stop.

He was sitting on the couch, his eyes softly focused on you as you walked slowly toward him, your hands clasped in front of you, as if trying to contain your racing heart. He could tell right away — you were nervous.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, his voice low, full of affection.

You nodded, but your throat was dry. You took a deep breath, then walked over and sat down next to him. His hand came naturally to yours, his warm, firm fingers wrapping around yours as if to say ‘I’m here, talk to me.’

“Kyle…” Your gaze met his, and there was so much tenderness there it almost hurt. “I’m pregnant.” For a moment, the world seemed suspended. His smile froze mid-smile, his eyes wide with surprise. You saw the emotion building there — first confusion, then a wet gleam in his eyes, as if he’d just heard something sacred.

“Are you… pregnant?” He repeated in a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment.

You nodded, with a small smile. His answer came in the form of a soft, almost breathless laugh, before he pulled you into a hug full of warmth and reverence. He held you as if you were made of glass, but at the same time with such intensity that your heart seemed to fit into his.

“We’re going to have a baby… Fuck’s sake!, that’s so amazing...” He whispered against your neck, as if he still couldn’t believe it. 

“Kyle… No swearing around the baby.”

“Copy that.” He smiled. “I'll be here. Every step, every beat of this little heart… I want to live it all with you.” After that, he placed his hand lovingly on your lower belly, as if he could already feel the new life you had started together. And in that moment, between soft smiles and slow kisses, the whole world seemed to fit between his arms.

He became obsessed with learning everything: he read medical articles, downloaded three different pregnancy apps, and asked the internet if certain strange food cravings were normal. 

He created a ritual: every night, he would lie with his head on her belly and whisper stories, just to “familiarize the baby with his father’s voice.” He would always say proudly: “Our baby will be born hearing the most beautiful accent in the world, honey.” 

He was so protective, but in a sweet way —  accompanying you to every appointment, carrying healthy snacks in his bag, and talking to doctors like you were a secret agent on a mission. 

When your belly started to grow, he bought funny “Loading… Baby 50%” T-shirts and forced you to wear them just to see your grumpy little face. No need to tell him they look awful, he’s already taking pictures of you. 

One day, he found you crying watching a random video of a stray dog being adopted and he just sat down with you, hugging you tightly, and getting emotional too, without even knowing why. 

He insisted on putting the crib together with his own hands. He made several mistakes, got his fingers stuck, and cursed the manual — but in the end, the crib was perfect.

When the contractions started, he went into military mode in 0.1 seconds. He grabbed the hospital bag, checked the checklist, warned everyone and took you to the hospital as if he was on a mission.

During the birth, he held your hand the whole time, letting you crush his fingers without complaining as he kept murmuring something along the lines of “Breathe with me. I’m with you.”

When the baby was born and cried for the first time, he cried too — the kind of silent, emotional cry that comes from deep in the chest.

He was paralyzed for a few seconds when he saw the baby in his arms, with teary eyes, whispering: “We did it. Look… we did it.”

You waited to find out the baby’s sex until the birth. It was a huge shock when the obstetrician said that a little boy had been born: “Hell yeah!”, he celebrated. “My little boy,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Our son...”

König

He finally returned from that mission that seemed to have no end. 

You call him by name with that soft voice that makes him feel weak to his knees. He notices something in your tone. The blue eyes fixed on yours with attention… and a hint of anxiety. “Was ist passiert, mein Schatz?” (“What happened, my love?”)

You take a deep breath, smiling with a nervousness that he immediately picks up on — and you finally say three words that change everything: 

“I am pregnant.” For a moment, he freezes. Not with rejection. Not with anger. But as if the world had gone silent. His eyes widen slightly, he takes a step back as if he’s been shocked, only to then approach you again with visible hesitation in his hands. The mask covers half of his reaction, but his eyes say it all. Pure vulnerability. The doubt of whether he deserves this. The desire to believe he still deserves to be happy. 

“Is it… mine?” He asks, his voice lower than ever.

“Of course it is, König!” 

When you say that — of course he knew it was his — König lets out a shaky sigh and puts his hands on his head, walking a few steps as if he doesn’t know what to do with his own body. Then he stops and he comes back to you. He kneels and he hugs your still-flat belly, pressing it against his face with an almost religious reverence.

“Mein Gott (My god)… you gave me a new life.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and muffled.

Then he looks down at you, with teary eyes — the intimidating giant now looking like a lost, happy boy — and says something you would never forget:

“I never thought I would have something so precious. I will take care of you. The both of you. Even if the world falls apart… you will be safe.” 

In the first few months, König is on constant alert. Every moment of nausea, every different expression on your face, makes him stop everything to check if you are okay. 

He obsessively researches pregnancy in silence, on his cell phone, reading scientific articles, forums, and even mothers' groups — all in secret, with his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were studying military tactics. 

He tries to cook for you (with… variable results), just because he read that certain foods help with morning sickness. 

When your belly starts to grow, König starts talking to you when he thinks you are sleeping. He lies down next to you, his head resting gently on your belly, murmuring in German with a sweetness that seems unthinkable for such a huge man. "Dein Vater liebt dich sehr, mein kleines Wunder..." ("Your father loves you very much, my little miracle...") 

He starts to accompany you to every medical appointment as if they were a mission, paying attention to every comment from the doctors and nurses as if his life depended on it. 

When your belly is already heavy and your steps are slower, König starts carrying you to any place that involves stairs. Literally. He doesn't even ask. He just picks you up with the greatest care in the world, as if you were made of glass. 

When you start having false contractions, he goes into a state of absolute focus—the hospital bag has been packed for weeks, the routes have been planned, the emergency numbers are posted on the fridge. But despite this, he is always kind, always calm with you, even though he is seething with nerves inside.

He has internal crises of insecurity, but he never burdens you with them. He writes everything down in a hidden notebook, as a way of letting off steam. 

You find him on the balcony, the sky tinged with gold by the sunset. König’s back is turned, still, silent, as he usually does when he’s thinking too much. His large hands are resting on the railing, his broad body almost blocking the light. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and his soft gaze immediately lands on your belly with an almost reverent affection.

You smile, and he responds with that shy little smile at the corner of his mouth, his eyes still seeming to search for more signs that you’re okay.

“What did the doctor say?” He asks in a low voice, waiting for each word as if they were sacred.

You walk towards him, slowly, feeling your heart beat faster — not from nervousness, but from excitement. Then you take one of his hands and guide it to your belly.

“She’s fine,” You begin, looking into his eyes. “And yes... I said she.”

König’s eyes blink, as if it took him a second to process.

“She...?” He whispers, almost in disbelief. You nod, smiling even wider.

“We’re having a little girl.” His breath catches for a moment. His blue eyes — usually so restrained, so trained not to show too much — shine with immediate moisture. He kneels, letting his forehead touch yours while his hands wrap around your belly with a delicacy that doesn’t match its size.

You run your fingers through his hair, feeling him snuggle closer, his arms around your waist as if he wanted to protect the two of you from the entire world.

“She’s already so loved, König. By me… and by you.”

“I… I don’t know if I’m ready. But I’ll give everything. Everything. For both of you.”

“You’re already everything she needs. And everything I need too.” 

Nikto

The truth is that you found out you were carrying his child only in the third month of pregnancy. The missions, your dangerous job, the obligations, plans and goals, your own complex relationship with Nikto… all of this was too much for you to handle. The days became weeks and the weeks became months as you just ignored the symptoms, thinking that the nausea and exhaustion would pass. But they remained very present, and your suspicion only increased.

You took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. And to be sure, you also took a blood test some days after and then, an ultrasound, which finally revealed the baby's gender: a little boy was coming into the world. You did all this without saying a word to Nikto, fearing that he would hate the news. You weren't stupid, you knew he would soon realize something was out of place. Your body was changing, your symptoms were still present, and you even avoided exposing yourself to any kind of risk, as much as possible, unlike before.

He suspected the possible reason why this was happening, but he never forced you to admit anything. Not until you were ready.

When you told him the news, at first he reacted with silence and a hard look, trying to process the information. He’s not the type to show emotion easily, so you thought he was angry or indifferent… But inside, he would be conflicted. Part of him would feel vulnerable — the idea of ​​having created a new life would hit him harder than he expected. Another part would be on edge, worried for your safety and that of the baby, since his world is too violent for something so innocent.

But he wouldn’t shy away from responsibility. He just wouldn’t know how to show he cares in the traditional way. You’d see him more protective, more present, but also more silent. His love would be shown in actions, not words.

The base was silent that night—just the hum of the generators and the occasional sound of boots echoing in the hallway. He was sitting at the table, cleaning his weapon with the meticulous precision of always, his mask pushed up to his forehead, revealing those hard eyes… but that always softened when they landed on you. You walked in slowly, your fingers intertwined in front of you, your heart beating fast.

He noticed it instantly. He dropped the metal piece on the table and watched you silently. Not like a soldier, but like a man. Your man.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, standing up immediately, his tone low but attentive.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s not that. But… I need to tell you something. And it’s important.”

His eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms, his body firm as steel, but his gaze… almost nervous.

“I’m pregnant, Nikto.”

The silence that followed was as thick as the darkness outside. He didn’t answer. He just stood there, motionless, as if time had frozen. What did you expect? A scream? A sigh? A “how did that happen?”?

None of that came.

He walked towards you, slowly, as if he were stepping on unknown land. He stopped so close that you could feel the heat of his body. His gloved hand rose to your face — it hesitated in the air for a second — and then landed with a delicacy that no one would ever imagine that man was capable of.

“My son?” He murmured, his voice so low that it seemed like a secret between you and the universe.

Son… And he even had guessed the baby gender right.

You nodded, tears in your eyes, but smiling.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, there was something there. It wasn’t fear. Or anger. It was… instinct. A raw kind of love — unconditional, protective.

"How do you…" You hugged him, and that took him by surprise. It took Nikto a few seconds to hug you back, but when he did, he stroked your hair with affection. "How do you know it's a boy?"

"Is it?"

"I mean… yeah."

"Perhaps it was just my intuition." He kissed the top of your head, wanting to protect you from the world.

“You will not leave my sight.” His voice had returned to its firm tone. “I will take care of you both. From now on.” And then, for the first time since you met him, Nikto knelt down, making himself vulnerable before you. Lifting your shirt, he pressed his lips to your slightly swollen belly, so gently that it barely seemed real. But it was. It was his promise. No pretty words. Just presence. Just surrender.

Nikto was already a controlling person by nature, but from the moment he found out about your pregnancy, he became a constant shadow by your side. He checks safe routes before you go out, monitors the environment where you sleep, and leaves discreet trackers on everything you wear “just in case.” He doesn’t say, “I’m afraid something will happen,” he just acts—as if he could take on the whole world for you and the baby.

He’s not the type to say, “You look so beautiful carrying my son” but out of nowhere you find a soft blanket on the couch, hot tea on the table, or maternity clothes in your size neatly folded on the bed. When you ask him if that was his doing, he just answers curtly, “Maybe.” But if you insist, he might say, “I like to see you comfortable.” (And he looks down, because that was the most vulnerability he could show that day.)

If you’re lying down and you let out a whimper of pain or discomfort, within seconds he’ll be there, kneeling beside the bed, pressing his hands firmly against your back. He never comments anything, he just keeps going until he feels you’ve relaxed. When you say a weak “thank you” he’ll give you a quick nod and maybe — just maybe — press a kiss against your forehead before leaving the room.

At night, when you are dozing on the couch or in bed, he will slowly come over and, if he is comfortable doing so, he will rub your belly while speaking to the baby in Russian. They are short, almost military phrases, but sweet in his own way: "Your mother is stronger than anyone. You will get this from her." Or even: "You will not know war. I swear."

Even with all his confidence, he sometimes stays silent for long periods, staring at you from afar. When you ask him, he ends up saying something like: “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. I only know how to fight.” It’s at this moment that you see his most human side. He’s not afraid of war, but he is afraid of failing you. And when you hold his hand and tell him he’s already doing more than enough, he doesn’t respond. He just squeezes your hand tightly — and doesn’t let go.

Simon “Ghost” Riley 

Hot and intense nights became common when the pressure of the world became great enough to suffocate you both.

You sought refuge in sex, night after night indulging your most primitive and sinful desires as a relatively effective, but twisted, way of enduring the horrendous reality of serving the country.

Even though you knew that being careful was relatively far from being part of your routine, you felt the world fall apart when the first symptoms began.

Nausea, fatigue and insecurity had become part of your essence and the fear of the future permeated your soul.

You tried to hide your pregnancy for as long as possible, not wanting to tell Simon, much less your team members.

Bringing an innocent life into the hell you lived was a senseless act. Then why did you feel so much love for someone who hadn't even been born yet?

You were almost four months pregnant when, during a mission, you fainted for no apparent reason. You weren't taking care of yourself enough — eating little, sleeping little and keeping so many secrets to yourself... It came as no surprise to anyone when your body couldn't handle all of that.

"Stay with me... Hey! She needs medical help!" Ghost shouted, looking around desperately, protecting your body as if you were the most fragile thing in the world at that moment.

Your consciousness slowly returned, and you realized that you were being carried by him to a safer place.

"I'm sorry." You stammered, feeling guilty for having interrupted the gathering of such important information.

"Don't apologize. I've never seen you so pale and weak like this, not even on worse missions." You were finally in a calmer place, still alone with him, and before other people entered the room to check on you, you decided it was time to tell him the truth.

"Simon, I..." You hesitated, wondering for a moment if being honest with him was really what you wanted.

"You...?" He encouraged you, squeezing your thigh affectionately, as usual.

"I... I'm pregnant." His eyes widened, and his grip on your thigh tightened, almost hurting you.

"What...?" He mumbled to himself, slowly fitting the pieces of the puzzle together and everything made sense — your extreme sensitivity to the tastes and smells that you usually liked, your endless naps, your hurried and unannounced trips to the bathroom, your lack of complaints about cramps, almost as if you hadn't had your period that month... It all made sense, and his head almost exploded.

"How did I not notice?" He whispered, pulling you close, hugging you tightly as if he wanted to protect you from all the evil in the world. "How far along are you?"

"Almost four months." You mumbled against his chest as he stroked your hair lovingly. "I think it was on your birthday..." 

That night... That fateful night.

"How are you feeling about this?"

"I... I don't know what to think..." Your hands involuntarily went down your body, caressing the slightly swollen belly due to the life that was developing there. "But I love them so much already..."

He smiled against your hair, hugging you tighter, a genuine happiness slowly forming inside his heart.

"I'm scared, Si." You admitted. "I'm scared of bringing them into this world only to suffer and see horrible things like the two of us."

"Hey, don't say that. Even in hell I found you. I found someone worth fighting for and waking up to everyday. Life isn't all bad, you taught me that yourself." You didn't answer, but he understood what you meant.

"Regardless of your decision — whether you’re keeping them or not — I will support you and stay by your side. Until my last breath." And he kissed the top of your head.

You couldn't muster the courage to abort that life. They were the fruit of the love between you and Simon and they were the best thing you had.

So you decided to keep it, to face the consequences of your acts, to carry the responsibility of bringing a life into this world. 

Months passed without you wanting to know the baby's sex, until Simon convinced you to investigate it.

"Guess." You murmured against his lips, your hands cupping his cheeks.

"Hmm, I have a feeling it's a girl." He secretly longed for one. You guided his hand so he could feel the baby moving, kicking you weakly every now and then.

"It's a girl! We're having a little girl, Si!" His heart fluttered with joy.

"Bloody hell, love... Fuck, I love her so much already. I can't wait to finally meet her."

He has a habit of murmuring sweet nothings your swollen stomach as his fingertips caresses the skin of your belly.

He doesn't let you lift a finger to do almost anything and he even asked captain Price not to allow you to leave the base for any more missions. He couldn't bait to lose both of you.

He helps you with your craving and pregnancy pains —  his massages are divine and melt away any tension you may be feeling.

Close to delivery, when you can no longer bear the weight of your very own stomach, he holds your belly gently with both hands, slowly freeing you from the weight of your little girl for a few seconds — seconds that relieve you absurdly.

Actually cries when he sees his baby for the first time — she's just so tiny, all wrapped around a blanket and her baby clothes, her foot is barely the size of his thumb and she's a little carbon copy of him in appearance. He's utterly glad you decided to keep her over five months ago. He couldn't imagine a world where you three didn't exist anymore.

He is completely disarmed by his daughter. He can face any enemy without hesitation, but if she cries in the morning or asks for something with that look in her eyes, he simply melts.

Protection is his second name. He checks locks, cameras, and sleeps lightly, as if he was still in the field. But the truth is that he just wants to make sure that nothing will hurt the two people he loves most in the world.

As your husband (fucking finally, right?), Simon is silent… but constant. He doesn't need big words; he shows it with actions. Coffee ready, blanket pulled up in the middle of the night, arm around waist without saying anything. He is simply perfect.

[dckweed]

tiktok made me do it!gf vs tf141 bf

ugh it’s been a minute my loves and i do apologize! im back at work on super light duty and the past few days have been loooooong! as always comments are appreciated, i love lil requests in my ask box too? i can somewhat type with both hands so expect a new rosie post sometime this next week!

Your boyfriend thinks he’s untouchable.

Unshakable. Unfuckwithable.

Which, honestly, is kind of true.

He’s a highly trained, battle-hardened soldier. He’s seen some shit.

But you?

You have a remote-controlled teddy bear.

And that levels the playing field.

The Setup

The boys had just gotten back from a mission. They were exhausted, half-asleep, lulled into a false sense of security.

Perfect time to strike.

You had meticulously placed the bear in the corner of the room—just close enough to be seen from the couch.

Then?

You waited.

Captain Price – "A real tactical maneuver."

Price had his arm slung around you, both of you cuddled up on the couch, watching some action movie, Ghost, who had moved in to your guys’ home after his lease went up on his apartment was in your kitchen, making something that smelled amazing.

Everything was normal.

Until—

The teddy bear slowly turned its head.

Creak.

Price immediately noticed.

But when he looked at you—

You didn’t react.

At all.

You just kept watching the movie.

Price’s eyebrow twitched. His fingers tensed around your shoulder. Was he having a PTSD episode? Was he hallucinating?

The bear shifted forward. No. That was real, it couldn’t possibly be a hallucination.

Price, staring: "…Love."

You, innocently: "Hmm?"

The bear took a single step.

Price immediately sits up. "…The fuck was that?"

You blink at him. "What?"

"That fucking bear just moved, sweetheart."

You glance over, squinting. "What bear?"

Price’s soul exits his body.

"The fuck do you mean, what bear? IT’S RIGHT FUCKIN’ THERE—"

The bear steps forward again.

Price, already reaching for his gun: "WHAT THE FUCK—"

You lose it.

Price realizes immediately.

He whirls on you, eyes narrowing. "…This is a fucking prank, ain’t it?"

You’re wheezing. "BABE, YOU LOOKED SO SCARED—"

Price pinches the bridge of his nose. "Jesus Christ, love. I nearly put a fuckin’ bullet in a stuffed animal."

Ghost, peeking in from the kitchen, snickering: "Aye, and that would’ve been a real tactical maneuver, eh, Captain?" You can’t help but cackle at his words, suddenly enjoying the extra body living in your house.

Price just groans, shaking his head. "I hate this fuckin’ household."

You wonder silently as you go back to watching the movie if you could enlist Simon to help you out with some of these.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "NOPE. ABSOLUTELY NOT."

Gaz was already jumpy—which made this too easy.

You were snuggled into him, watching a horror movie, Johnny off doing whatever it is the personification of ADHD does when he’s supposed to be watching a movie with his friends.

Everything was fine.

Until the bear moved.

Gaz’s entire body stiffened.

His breathing stopped.

His eyes locked on the bear.

Then, very slowly—

The bear’s head tilted.

Gaz, whispering: "Babe."

You, calm as fuck: "Yeah?"

Gaz: "That fuckin’ bear just moved."

You blink at him. "What bear?"

Gaz, immediately panicking: "NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. BABY, DO NOT FUCKIN’ GASLIGHT ME—"

The bear takes a step forward.

Gaz, ALREADY GETTING UP: "NOPE. FUCK NO."

The bear takes another step.

Gaz FULLY YEETS HIMSELF OVER THE COUCH.

"I’M NOT FUCKIN’ DOING THIS, BABE."

You’re crying laughing.

Soap, wheezing from the hallway: "BRO, YOU JUST FUCKIN’ RAN—"

Gaz, still on the floor, panting: "I HAVE SEEN SOME SHIT, MAN, BUT I DO NOT DO HAUNTED FUCKIN’ TOYS!"

You finally break, holding up the remote. "Baby, it’s a prank!" You toss it at him, landing smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Gaz stares. Pupils blown wide, adrenaline you assume.

Then—

"I’m divorcing you."

You cackle. "We’re not even married."

"I’m divorcing you preemptively."

“I want Johnny in the custody battle.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, hand going to his chest as he rolls to his knees. “My Johnny?” Oh he’s offended. You laugh harder.

“Hey! I’m the one that feeds the bugger!”

“She’s not wrong, mate.”

A sharper inhale, you could swear there were tears in his eyes. “Scares me with a robotic bear AND takes my best friend in the imaginary divorce? Whatever did i do to deserve this hell!!”

You and Johnny share a look at him, laughing your asses off. You know he’s only fake upset, but you also know how you’ll make him feel better later, when Johnny goes home.

Simon "Ghost" Riley – "WOT BEAR???"

Ghost is calm.

Always.

But this?

This nearly broke him.

He was watching the movie, arms crossed, relaxed.

Then—

The bear turned its head.

Ghost saw it immediately.

But when he glanced at you?

You didn’t react.

His eyes narrowed. He was no stranger to PTSD episodes, but..his last deployment had been awhile ago, he had already been through his adjustment phase..

Then—

The bear took a step forward.

Ghost froze.

"…Babe."

You hummed. "Yeah?"

"Tha’ bear jus’ moved."

You looked over, feigned confusion. "What bear?"

Ghost’s soul left his body.

"The FUCK do you mean, WOT BEAR?*"

The bear tilted its head again.

Ghost STANDS THE FUCK UP.

"NOPE. I’M NOT FUCKIN’ DOING THIS."

Soap, peering in from the hallway: "Bro, what’s wrong—"

Ghost, pointing at the bear like it personally offended him: "THAT FUCKIN’ BEAR JUST MOVED, MATE."

Soap, squinting: "…Looks normal to me."

Ghost whips around. "DON’T FUCKIN’ START—"

You lose your shit, holding up the remote.

"BABY, IT’S A PRANK—"

Ghost stares.

Then he walks out.

"I need to fuckin’ lie down."

Soap, dying of laughter in the doorway of the living room: "BRO, SHE GOT YOU SO GOOD."*

Ghost groans into his hands. "I fuckin’ hate my life."

“I swear love, im gonna move out if you don’t start letting me in on these pranks.” Johnny says, wiping a tear from those baby blue eyes.

Simon scoffs. “Good, maybe then I’ll be able to get some damn peace in my own ‘ome!” You cackle again, falling off the edge of the couch so hard that Soap almost pisses himself in laughter. Simon rolls his eyes, not even offering to help you up, though you pretend not to notice the way he slipped his socked foot along the edge of the coffee table as you were falling, as if to protect your head in case you hit it. So, he couldn’t be that mad, right?

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "I ALMOST DIED."

Soap had just sat down.

Just gotten comfortable, you on his arm as you guys waited for the rest of the guys to be done in the kitchen. Just the way he liked it on movie nights.

And then—

The teddy bear turned its head.

Soap immediately tensed.

Then—

It took a step forward.

Soap, whispering: "Babe."

You, not looking away from the TV: "Hmm?"

Soap: "I swear to fuckin’ God, babe, tell me you see that bear moving."

You blink, turning to look at him. "What bear?"

Soap’s soul exits his body.

"OH, FUCK NO—"

The bear moves again.

Soap FLINGS HIS BEER BOTTLE ACROSS THE ROOM at it.

Ghost, dodging it from the hallway: "WHAT THE FUCK, JOHNNY?!" You hear it shatter against the wall.

Soap GRABS YOU, HAULING YOU OVER HIS SHOULDER.

"BABE, WE’RE FUCKIN’ LEAVIN’—"

You’re screaming with laughter. "JOHNNY, IT’S A PRANK—" Your face is practically buried in his ass (not that you mind), but you hold your arm out, waving the little remote around.

Soap pauses.

Sees the remote in your hand.

And drops you.

"I ALMOST FUCKIN’ DIED, WOMAN—"

Gaz, filming the whole thing: "BRO, HE REALLY TRIED TO EVACUATE YOU."

Soap just shakes his head, staring at the bear.

"I fuckin’ hate you."

You grin. "No, you don’t."

Soap grumbles. "Aye. But I fuckin’ should." He helps you up off the floor with a roll of his eyes and a smack to your ass, flipping the camera off as Gaz brings it in closer, goading him as Simon goes to clean up the beer bottle thay nearly killed him.

Moral of the Story:

You won. Again.

And now?

They’re sleeping with the lights on

[k4lenz]

HIII, can i request hobie x reader nsfw but its not like all rough n stuff .. its gentle & caring basically “making love” or wtv from hobie’s POV

-🧼

making love ✮ hobie brown x fem!reader

a/n: HIII!! this is such a cute idea thankyou ! guys i <3 🧼 my requests r open if you like this content!!! word count: 1.4k!!! notes: soft, SMUT!!!, affectionate, 'making love', hobies pov, praise, bro is down bad n pussy whipped but also loves everything about you n would do anything for you, he's a cutie, unprotected, he nibbles on ya, established relationship?, bro wants to warm you up *eyebrow wiggle*, no use of y/n, praise ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 You were gorgeous. At least, that was the first thought running through Hobie's mind as you whimpered beneath him. You were both wrapped up in the blankets of your bed, it was a freezing cold night like usual in the UK, and you were cuddled up together for warmth. He'd wrapped his arms around you the minute he saw you shiver, and he'd even made you a warm drink earlier. "Ya cold, innit? Drink up. How's this gon' warm ya up? D'ya not trust me, honey?" He hated seeing you cold. You'd call him your heat pack, your teddy bear, more often then not, and he'd laugh it off but secretly? He liked it. He wanted to be your comfort. He loved being able to stay in with you, it was like all his worries and responsibilities faded away. He wasn't Spider-Punk, he was just Hobie. Nothing about the outside world came in between you two in the moments shared together. He'd claimed earlier, after you said that you were still freezing to death and his drink didn't work, that he knew the perfect way to warm up. So now here you were. He laid on top of you, you both wore pyjamas but he was softly rolling his hips against your own. Eliciting a soft shudder to run down your spine. He chuckled deeply against your skin, starting to tug down your pyjama pants. Lowering and pressing a slow kiss to your underwear teasingly, making you squirm as his lips applied pressure against your clit through the cloth. "So pretty, doll. You don't even realize it.." His cockney accent was soothing to your ears, he knew you had a certain fondness for it and he enjoyed teasing you with it. Let it be random whispers in your ear with filthy words, coming up behind you in the kitchen and murmuring a simple 'I love you'. Anything, really. He kissed along your thighs too, watching your eyes fog with lust. He liked making you react so well. "Hobie." You whined, and he found it adorable. You were irresistible.

"Mhm?" He had to stifle a laugh, you just looked so cute. "Please." And who was he to deny you? He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift movement, his two-toned lips peppering your face with sweetness as you scrunched up, giggling a little. He couldn't help but look at you adoringly, you were just so.. Cute? Sweet? Everything he'd ever dreamed of? He smiled fondly, unable to take his eyes off of you. You smiled back. He pulled your underwear down teasingly, fanning his breath on your body as you made yourself more comfortable on the bed. Both of your clothes since discarded on the floor, neither of you were thinking about them of course. Hobie moved a little closer to you with a wink. He liked the contact, physical affection was his love language. His hands slowly parted your legs, always giving you a look to see if anything had changed in your expression or if you were feeling uncomfortable. Soothingly smoothing his hand over your thigh until he knew you were ready. He rubbed his throbbing hard-on up and down your slit, the tip catching on your clit and making you gasp. He slowly eased himself into your slick cunt with a pleased sigh until his hips met yours. Bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, meant for each other. Soaking in your moan as he stretched you just like he had many times before, admiring you roll your eyes to the very back of your skull. "Ready, sweet lil'thing? Ay?" He observed you barely manage a "Y-Yeah." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he started to push in and out so gently, his cock rubbing your cervix perfectly. And he knew it, smugly, because all he had to do was look at you to see the pleasure written on your pretty face. Rolling his hips back and sliding into you at a slow pace so he could hit all the right spots. This didn't need to be quick or rough, you two just needed each other. This wasn't just sex, it was soft and intimate. It was making love. You let out a whimper into his mouth as he thrusted steadily, but particularly deep. He groaned against your warm skin, obsessed with the way you felt against him. "Good girl, dove.." Neither of you felt a need to rush, more to be in the moment. He ran his hands along your hips, feeling your smooth skin. The only thing on his mind was you and your pretty little cunt.

Your lips were parted, taking heavy breaths. He listened to your breaths and watched you melt. He felt like he'd won the lottery with you. "Feelin' good?" He whispered in your ear, smiling and listening to your soft moans as he fucked you unrushed and good. It'd been a while since he'd been able to do it like this, you were both busy lately. Him being a famous vigilante, you with work. But you'd always make time for each other, and spend it in the right ways. "So good, Hobie— Mmmhh.." He felt your words echo through him, and your hands resting on his chest. Not digging your nails into his skin, just resting there feeling his heartbeat. Your body sinking into the bed and your eyes fluttering closed as you both really got into it. "Love ya, Shit. Love ya 's much." He mumbled, pressing kisses along your jawline and lower to your neck affectionately. The coil in his stomach slowly winding as your pussy clenched around his dick. He nibbled the skin of your neck when you clenched on purpose, watching you react gleefully with a giggle cut off by a moan. His own large hands rubbing up and down your waist, the cool metal of his silver rings against your heated flesh making you squirm. One of his hands traveled down, his thumb starting to gently stroke your clit so he could hit your cervix at the same time. Eliciting a mewl from you, which is all he wanted, really. He could tell the deliberate pace he was taking was driving you insane in all the right ways, he knew you loved when he did it like this. It was fuzzy and intimate, genuinely sweet and caring. Almost relaxing, like there was nothing else in the world but the echoes of your sounds mixing together in the bedroom walls. Your eyes quickly opening as you reached the brink of your orgasm. "Close.." You panted, rolling your head back. And he grinned. Your neck stretching back and complexion glistening with a bit of sweat. You were so god damn wet for him too, the only word he could use to describe you was ethereal. Hair messy, body stretched out, legs wrapped around his waist for the perfect positioning. Could this get any better? "That's adorable. You can do it, babygirl. Be good and come all over my cock. Hm?" He massaged your clit more, your thighs trembling as he pushed you over that edge you so desperately needed. Seeing your hips roll back in ecstasy? It drove him insane. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck.. H-Hobie! Ah!" You chanted, slurring a mix of his name and curses. Tightening hard enough around him as your orgasm hit for him to release too, grunting and spilling himself deep inside you. Pleasure racking through both of your bodies in waves as he rested on your chest. Slowly fucking you through both his and your orgasm with sloppy wet thrusts. Panting for air.

"Am I.. really that good luv?" He chuckled as you panted for air, although his tone was breathless as well. Leaving hickeys in his wake as he nipped and sucked at your skin. "Shut up, Hobes." You laughed, pulling him into you and moving so you were laying on the bed fully together and intertwined. It was practically impossible for you two to get any closer.

"Y'warm now?" "Absolutely. I'd say that's my new favorite way of warming up." He heard your voice get sleepier with each syllable. He'd be more then happy to lay like this for the rest of the night, and so he did. Minutes passing by like seconds. Staring at your relaxed blissed out face as your head rested on the pillow, eyes shut."G'night." He whispered, even though you were already fast asleep in his arms. He was slowly lulled to sleep by the sound of your breath and the rain softly pattering against the window.

[thebearer]

willow attempting to scare richie but when tho she poorly hid herself and he could see her he still acts like she’s the scariest

he's so good at it too.

fak actually might be better because he really goes there.

so one time, when teddy was a teeny toddler, she was going through a 'scaring' phase. she wasn't very good at it, thankfully, but she loved to 'scare' people.

she'd run ahead and hide around corners, and pop out at you or carmen or whoever, then die of laughter lol. it was honestly cute, and so you and carmen just let it happen bc it's cute? and she's little? and she's not hurting anyone- everyone knows when she's 'hiding' she's not very good at it lol.

anyways, so one day, at the restaurant she's helping richie and fak 'set up' and decides she's going to 'scare' them. she hides behind a booth, and richie's like grinning, looks at fak, "watch this." he mutters. "aye, neil, you see teddy anywhere?" real loud and dramatic, and they can hear her giggling.

fak blinks like ??? "yeah, richie, she-she's right ther-"

"-hey, don't be a jagoff, alright? what's the matter with you?" richie hisses, rolling his eyes. "neil, do me a favor and, uh, will you check behind that booth? make sure the tables good?" loud and dramatic again.

neil is so confused but walks over, right as he's turning, teddy jumps out with a "boo!" giggling and excited. richie gives a loud "oh! you gto me! you scared me, kid, where were you?" because he's richie. he's silly and a little dramatic.

neil on the other hand... he just blinks at her. "the tables fine, richie."

teddy's little face falls and she's pouty and it's no longer fun in there, so she goes to find carmen or you or tina or someone fun.

"the fucks the matter with you?" richie throws a hand up. "you tryna be a jerkoff? huh? you know that's cousin's kid? what? you got a problem with him? with her? because you know, neil geoff, that's my god daughter right there, and if we've got an issue you-"

"-no, no, no, no. what? richie? no." neil's backed up away from a furious richie.

"then why are you bein' a dickwad right now? why would you do that, huh?"

"i'm not being a dickwad!"

"you're definitely bein' a dickwad. teddy pretends to scare you, and you- you what? you're not gonna pretend to be scared? for a kid? your cousin's kid? c'mon you-"

"-richie, i could see her." fak scoffs. "she didn't scare me. i could see her the whole time."

richie just blinks at him because honestly he is at a loss for words. "you... you're a fucking moron."

"hey! you can't call me that-"

"-no i can and i will. what's the matter with you? of course you can see her. you think i couldn't? you pretend to be scared, you cazzone. play it up." richie huffs.

and neil takes that personally.

the next time teddy does it, neil wants to make up for the fact that he didn't give such a big reaction.

she hides, and when she jumps out, neil screams. like a final girl, horror movie kind of scream.

"teddy! you scared me! oh my god, oh my god! you scared the shi- i mean, you scared me!"

and he really thinks he's done a good job, and in a way he has.

except it scared the shit out of teddy this time.

she freezes, face falls in fear because he screamed really loud and scared her. everyone's there in a matter of seconds, scared by the scream.

"what? what's the matter? what happened?" carmen is panicking, even more so when teddy is sobbing towards him. "what's wrong? you alright? you alright? richie, what the- what happened?"

"you're a fucking moron." richie snarls, walking over to carmen.

"what? what did i do now? you told me to play it up! richie!" fak follows him, feeling guiltier than before.

he has a lot of time to practice. by the time willow comes around, he's perfected the in between of being realistically scared... to a toddler's standards lol. fak's actually pretty good at it by then, can really play it up to get her giggling and happy.

[sitp-recs]

HII do u recommend any short/quick read drarry fics?? No angst please hehe

Glad you asked anon, I LOVE reccing short fic! I already have a few lists (here and here) so I took this request as a challenge to do a list with fics under 3k that I don’t see recced often. Hope you enjoy these!

The Department of Perfect Timing by americanmoths (T, 929 words)

It's very like Potter to try to adopt a muggle child at the end of Draco's shift.

Measure My Lordship With Thine Vulgar Aye by @starquestingfordrarry (M, 1k)

Draco buys some Muggle magnets for the office.

Snow On Snow by @tackytigerfic (T, 1k)

Harry and Draco were deep undercover in Europe, and had to pretend to be a couple. When everything went wrong, they got out by the skin of their teeth.

A Brush With Potter by @maesterchill (T, 1k)

Draco NEEDS to get his hands on the latest toy racing broom for Teddy. Trust a certain messy-haired Gryffindor to thwart his plans.

My tidings aren’t glad, they’re ghastly by @lemonlimelea (G, 1.2k)

“Potter, what are you playing at, sending me a bloody Christmas card?” A new tradition is born.

halcyon days by @the-starryknight (T, 1.3k)

Sleepy mornings caught while the sun rises are reserved for silly word games and soft touches and feelings.

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (E, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

Tidings of Comfort by @blamebrampton (G, 1.5k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

and another one by @nv-md (M, 1.6k)

Draco has a few too many drinks after a row with Harry, and Harry has to come to his rescue... sort of.

In The Wings by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 1.7k)

Ballet has been a path to healing for Draco after the war. Now, it's his final performance in the starring role, and his boyfriend is in the audience for the first time.

I Must Be Lonely by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 1.8k)

Draco works nights at the Ministry security desk. Sometimes, he sees Potter.

This Time Again (Next Year) by @gryffindorhearts (T, 1.8k)

At thirty minutes to midnight on New Year’s Eve, Harry is buried under a mountain of paperwork. Only Malfoy, his long-time coworker and one-time lover, could have any hope of distracting him.

magic in the making by @getawayfox (G, 1.9k)

I didn’t see Malfoy for a year after the trial. When Gin told me that, according to Pansy, he had opened a little posh bakery in Mayfair, I thought she was joking, so I went to see for myself.

Nectar by @jtimu (T, 1.9k)

Draco's first Animagus transformation doesn't go as planned.

I, Ferret by curiouslyfic (T, 2k)

Draco's embraced his inner Ferret. Now it's Harry's turn. Starring Veela!Draco, mpreg, an old wives' tale, and a Weddiwizard.

Receipts by @moonflower-rose (M, 2k)

Pansy and Ginny have made a stupid wager and Draco may be the one who comes away a winner.

Willing Blood by @lqtraintracks and @the-starryknight (E, 2k)

Seven days together, years ago; seventy-four hours and thirty-eight minutes trapped in this house alone; and now one chance to stop himself from draining Potter dry. Will Draco take it? Will Harry let him?

Chicken Shop Date by @sorrybutblog (T, 2k)

Draco and Harry sit down for an interview. Or is it a date?

Almost-but-not-quite by @pineau-noir (G, 2k)

Immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts Draco Malfoy stumbles across the last Time-Tuner in existence. He had intended to go into the past to try and right his many wrongs, but magic sometimes does what it wants.

Thrice Bound by @skeptiquewrites (M, 2.3k)

Once by nature, once by fate, and once by choice.

The Art of Seduction by playout (M, 2.3k)

Harry and Draco are Auror partners assigned to go undercover at a muggle gay bar frequented by drug-dealing wizards.

Light Years Away by @lettersbyelise (M, 2.5k)

No one told Harry about the training courses young Aurors and Curse Breakers have in common, just like Harry never told anyone about his one-night encounter with Draco Malfoy two months prior.

like the sun came out by @academicdisasterfic (E, 2.8k)

Harry realises that Draco loves him, and it's like waking up.

Secretly, between the shadow and the soul by @teacup-tai (T, 2.9k)

The thing about surrender is that once you accept the unavoidable rhythm of change, the surprising uncontrollability of life, and the astonishing inevitability of feelings, it is easy.

Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

Head Canons!

Professor O’Hara was an intimidating man, to say the least. Despite his menacing exterior, he came highly recommended and sought after as a professor due to his ability to clearly get the material across. At times, it felt cutthroat, but he only meant well. He was just very passionate about his job and wanted everyone to learn.

You didn’t think he was scary at all. In fact, that first day of lecture, you new you were doomed. All you saw was a poor, misunderstood, teddy bear of a man. You thought it was so endearing how his glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, or how he filled out his button ups and vests: equal parts of muscle and squish <3

n you totally stared at his huge butt and dick print oops what I didn’t say that what-

Professor O’Hara who’s scowl would melt away when you’d hurry into class, completely dismissing that fact that you were late. People who had him previously would be so confused that the Miguel O’Hara is stumbling on his own words during a lecture. Little did they know that it was because you, his very pretty and very eager student, was sitting front row and center. You’d fix your hair or apply lip gloss hoping you’d get his attention, and you succeeded.

Professor O’Hara thought you were so cute. He loved the way you dressed, the way you’d raise your hand and ask such good questions, the way you took notes, making them look equally as adorable as you. It didn’t help that you were a total ace in his class. Your brains n beauty were going straight to both of his heads……..

Professor O’Hara who although was naturally pretty distant and quiet with students, was trying very hard to be vocal with you, making sure to let you know when you were doing good. “Good job today, Mama.” “Thank you for being so involved in class today, mama, I appreciate it.” “Aye, Mama, make sure you get some sleep before the quiz tomorrow, mkay?” “Have a safe weekend, mama, and please, if you need anything, you have my email. It doesn’t matter what time it is.” and if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, he’d definitely leave notes for you when handing back your work <3

Professor O’Hara who now wakes up earlier and takes longer to get ready in the morning. For you. He would put on his most expensive cologne knowing you liked to ask for help. You’d smell it every time he bent over your desk behind you, enough so that the timbre of his low voice tickled your ear and his belly just barely grazing your back.

Professor O’Hara who was developing his own crush on you, even though it was definitely wrong. Besides, you were a model. He was convinced that even if he were a student, he wouldn’t have a chance with you.

Professor O’Hara who always felt his eyes gravitating toward you in the mass of seats when lecturing, as if he forgot what you looked like and needed to see your face again. You’d tilt your head n give him a smile each time he did, as if telling him you’re following along, and this rattled him. He’d smile back right before shying away from your gaze, clearing his throat and starting wherever he left off on in his lesson. You thought that was cute.

Professor O’Hara who was always there for you when you were troubled, his office becoming a place you frequented for comfort. He was a great ear, elbows on his knees and brows furrowed as he listened to your trials and tribulations. Pobrecita preciosa. He hated seeing you this way. His bear hugs always seemed to make the troubles go away.

Professor O’Hara who would praise you after seeing all the work you put into his class. Anytime you were stressed, he’d take you some place other than his office to relax, maybe buy you some tea or your favorite pastry. He’d take those opportunities to learn more about you, asking you in a gentle, sweet tone about your other studies, your goals, your life etc. he’d hopelessly fall for you even more when watching you speak about things you were passionate about, seeing how your eyes sparkled. He’d try to keep his composure by maintaining a stoic expression, but a small smile would crack every time. He was a melting mess.

Professor O’Hara who would keep all your assignments and reread them at home since you liked to leave him little notes like, “ So lucky to have you as a professor” “Amazing class today!” “Looking forward to our tutoring sesh tmw<3”, the curvy letters of your pretty hand writing feeding into his desires for you, those same desires going from wholesome to more lustful.

Professor O’Hara, who’s walls you break down with your kindness, intelligence, humility, and beauty. He’d play with your hair during tutoring sessions, buy you things that reminded him of you, call you ‘mama’ when no one else was around. He loved the way you knit your brows together telling him he shouldn’t be spending money on you as he’s already doing so much for you already, to which he replies, “You deserve it, and more, mama”.

Professor O’Hara who, when you stay after class to help him clean (because you volunteered to, otherwise, Miguel would never let you lift even a finger because you’re a princess), instead of picking up stray mechanical pencils, he would imagine you picking up stranded toys in the living room. He’d imagine what it’s like living life with you, having a life with you, then immediately shoo those absurd thoughts away after realizing he’s falling for you after only months of knowing you.

Professor O’Hara who genuinely cares about your well-being, wants to see you succeed and get everything you want and deserve. Who wants the absolute best for you.

A/n: Just some hcs before I continue the story…. I won’t edge y’all for long so just bear w meeeeee <3333

Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @ce3stvu @m4dyy @kaidxra

Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!!!

[ratboyvince]

The Magnus Protocol - Glitch theory

In light of the current theory/assumption that in The Magnus Protocol, the audio glitches when the characters lie, I’ve been re listening!! And I’m going to be using this post and others to explore what this means for our beloved characters

The glitches aren’t on the transcript, sometimes there will be a direction like (uncertain) or (unconvincing), but thats the best i can do you for, otherwise you will have to take my word

First though, quick clarifications: what exactly is a lie in this context? - this is fairly obvious but i am including it for the avoidance of any doubt what i have gathered is that, in this theory we are assuming a lie is a character saying something they KNOW is not true in attempt to wilfully deceive someone

It is NOT:

A joke, or sarcasm

Believing something but being wrong

Finally, a lot of the lies i have so far are ones that are known to known to be untrue, what i will do is have a list of the blatant lies SO FAR to make my point, to work as support for the theory on this post then leave out any following ones to avoid making it excessively long.

The rest of them will be under the cut and more on a thread, sorted by episode. If i miss any, feel free to say!!

BLATANT LIES (theory support)

1.

Teddy: Colin was just saying how much of a BLAST he’s having (GLITCH) isn’t that right?

Lena: oh really.

Colin: Aye, sure (GLITCH)

Teddy: And how he’d love to take the after party to the Pub (GLITCH)

2.

Gwen: Sam? You okay?

Sam: um. Yeah. (GLITCH)

3.

Sam: cinnamon swirl. Please. (GLITCH)

4.

Gwen: Wait. Did you get me a coffee?

Sam: yeah. (GLITCH)

5.

Celia: Sorry, sorry, there was an emergency at home (GLITCH)

EPISODES 1-11 (where applicable) UNDER THE CUT

Episode 1

Teddy: Nahh, we’ll stay in touch, right?

Alice: Course…(GLITCH)

Alice either did not intend to keep in touch with Teddy, or genuinely just does not believe they will.

* saying she’ll miss him was NOT a lie, so it’s probably the latter

Episode 3

Sam: right, right i get it. Consider me *scared straight* (GLITCH)

He wasn’t taking Alice seriously, underestimating how serious it actually was (maybe even as light payback for her not taking him seriously)

Episode 5

Lena: I am certain that if he finds his current assignment unmanageable he can request assistance (GLITCH) or resign, of course…

She knows what the deal is with Central IT (whatever “the deal” may be), and just refuses to help. Maybe even sets up a little hostility between Lena and Colin?

Episode 7

Alice: listen, if you need to step out for some air-

Celia: no, I’m fine, really (GLITCH)

Celia was infact, not fine, probably because she recognised Chester’s voice as Jon “The Archivist” Sims himself and she’s freaked out

Episode 8

Gertrude: well I’m…sorry, but I don’t think gerry can help you. (GLITCH)

—

Gerry: -And then i left

Sam: and that’s all?

Gerry: Yeah I’m afraid so! (GLITCH)

Gertrude and Gerry know more than they’re letting on, and intentionally not sharing.

*Gerry not remembering most of it being true, means that while he’s probably leaving something out, there’s more he genuinely is lost on

Sam: I…may have given you a quick google

Celia: then…yeah. I’m doing a favour for Georgie. (GLITCH)

She Is Not Doing A Favour For Georgie - the research (teleportation, time travel, different universes) is more personal!

Episode 11

Sam: you keep glancing at the door

Alice: ah. It’s nothing (GLITCH)

—

Alice: it’ll be nothing! I’m just jumpy (GLITCH)

Alice is dismissing her anxiety following the trip to the institute.

Alice: “What have I told you about thinking?“

Sam: “Don’t.”

Alice: “That’s right.” (GLITCH)

Probably meaning that Alice is starting to doubt her own ideas, but is just pushing that uncertainty away because that’s what she does and she’s still more comfortable in ignorance, even if she doesn’t think it’s exactly RIGHT to ignore.

[cherrycrvsh]

Followed you then unfollowed you right away when I saw you being moots with a shifter... Ew... Or do you not know dove and that Caleb user is a shifter...

we are taking this OUTSIDE‼️‼️‼️‼️ of course i know they're both shifters. 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 i literally call shifters "shifties"😕😕😕 AND THEY'RE LIKE. VVV NICE STFU. what did they even do to yew vro. like:

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑓𝑒𝑛 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 !? 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑢 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 !?!?!? 𝑖 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑒 !¡ 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑓𝑦𝑟 𝑟𝑦𝑡𝑠 !? 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑓𝑦𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑒𝑦𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒 !!!!! 𝑖 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎... 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑡 !! 𝑖 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑦𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑.. 𝑖 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑒... !! 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑛, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒.. !!!!!!!!!! 𝓲 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓲 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓲 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮

i used to have HOOP DREAMS until i found out there were other ways to SCORE😈😈😈😈 if you're gonna be my BITCH!!! you HAVE to be OBEDIENT ! you CANNOT be a WHORE!!!

(tw: taglish)ate... ma... I'M GETTING MARRIED!!! ANO⁉️ MAGPAPAKASAL⁉️⁉️⁉️ so he and nicole got back together 👠👠🤨🤨🤑🤑❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 eh, sana nga yung nicole nalang, ano? e KASO.. HINDI! yung BAGO!! yung PRINCESS!!!! OH MY GAAAASH!?!? 😧😧😧 YUNG NAKILALA NIYA SA BARKO!?!? E CHARARAT 'YUN E😞😞💀💀 HAH‼️⁉️⁉️ sino ba yung princess na 'yan?🤨 hindi kaba nag babasa nang email and fb updates ko sayo??🤬🤬🤬 AY! wala na kasi akong time mag basa ng ganyan d2...🥲🥲 sobra kasing busy, sa mga trainings, seminars!! alam mo na‼️‼️ sino nga uli yan? 😁😁 yung nagfefeeling broadway singer na WALA namang BOSES!😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😤😤😤🫩🫩 kulang na nga sa talent... kulang pa sa PES!! at kulang sa salita🤪🤪 nung pinakilala sakim ni reb² wala halos imik, at kung makakapit sakanya akala mo linta 😑😑😑😑 yang babaeng yan, hindi kopa nakita hindi kona gusto hah😤😤 hindi kaya nakulam o nagayuma ang bunso natin...? does mama know?😶 how did she react?🍵 of course she's not happy. e kailan lang nakilala ni cj yung gurl🫩🫩 eh kelan nga ba⁉️ 4 months ago... sa cruise🙄🙄 diba? AAHHHH sí, sí. nag cruise NGA pala si reb² para makapag move on kay nic—.. 🤔 SANDALI! EDI KASALANAN MO PALA‼️‼️Ako⁉️ e idea kaya ni ate alex yon. OY BAKLAAA😠😠😠🤡🤡🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🌈🌈👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👬👬 umagree ka naman Diba ⁉�� tsyaka sino ba yung bumili ng ticket 😠Ako ba????? Oh..? So it's my fault now😐😒😒😒 kung alam kolang na yung kapatid nyong yan ang PROMOTOR, i wouldn't have agreed to that stupid idea..🙄🙄 ... btw the wedding's happening in TWO weeks💩💩 two weeks? buntechi?? INSTANT MAMI😱😱😱😱 hindi 💀💀💀 oh? e bakit nagmamadali? e bakit pa daw nila patatagalan kung true love 💘😘❤️ na?🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 weh?🤡 tRuE lOvE mY ASS 💩💩💩 QUESOOO😭😭😭 QUEJOROR!!!! ka chaepan!😔😔😔 Anyway, ANO pa ang mga opinion naten kailangan umuwi para sa BIG event? HUH!? UMUWI!?!? pati AQUOH⁉️⁉️⁉️ yup.😐 hiling ni rebreb at utos ni Mama. Dapat KUMPLETO tayo. TAYONG LAHAT⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ uuwi si teddy? Sandali3x hindi ako sigurado diyan! E check ko Muna schedule ko, busy Ako this month😭 ehh.... si bobby? ..... i'll check my sched. ... sige check korin schedule ko ah!