#Domestic duties

[whateveriwant]

Simon Riley rough sex this. Simon Riley hard kink that. What about silly sex with Simon, huh? What about fun, carefree sex? What about goofy, awkward, ‘Ouch, you're on my hair’ / ‘Oh shit, sorry, love’ sex with Simon? Huh??? Ever think about that?

Simon who trips and falls after getting his feet caught in his trousers. Simon who fumbles his words as he tries to dirty talk, because you just feel so damn good he can't think straight. Simon whose sweat drips and stings your eyes as he holds himself above you. Simon who attempts to keep a straight face after one of you makes a fart noise, but then he breaks, which makes you break, and then you're both just dissolving into a fit of laughter. Simon who accidentally elbows you in the head as you're changing positions. Simon who misses your lips as he tries to kiss you in the dark, catching the tip of your nose instead. Simon whose voice cracks super loudly in the middle of a moan. Simon who forgot to lock the cat out of the room, and now she's jumping on the bed with you. Simon who has to pause and take five minutes after he gets a bad cramp in his leg. Simon who grins and chuckles to himself as he cums, biting his lip as he's overwhelmed by a feeling of bliss.

And finally, neither Simon nor you really worried about finishing, because at the end of the day all you care about is having fun together.

[yawnderu]

Ex-husband Simon never truly goes away. 

Simon’s stomach twisted into a knot as he heard your muffled sobs, your warm tears seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, holding onto him for dear life even if he’s the one responsible for your pain. 

“I hate you, Simon.” Empty words that still send an unfamiliar ache to his chest, his soul hurting for you. 

“I know, baby, I know.” He managed to croak out, his voice hoarse. The sight of the gold wedding band on his finger stabbed at something deep within him, reigniting the flicker of emotions he always tried to push aside for an amicable divorce. 

Ten years down the drain, your whole life reduced to nothing but ink and paper. Simon’s duty to the SAS and the 141 took up so much of his time, often only managing to be home for a few months out of the year. Missed holidays and celebrations, broken promises of trying to be more present. As understanding as you tried to be, everyone reaches their breaking point. 

“Give me some time, love. I’ll retire. Y’can get anythin’.” Perhaps it is selfish to ask you to wait, yet how is a broken man expected to give up on the only beacon of light he has amidst all the darkness and shadows? His highschool sweetheart, his beloved wife. 

“How long?” Your whispered question hit Simon like a blow to the gut, so much trust and fear held in only two simple words. He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands tightening around your waist as you still straddle him, nearly cuddling him up even if all you could do was cry. 

“After we scatter Johnny’s ashes. S’ gonna be a quick trip to Scotland, and then I’m all yours.” He paused for a moment, his rough fingers tracing over the band on his ring finger, his touch always gentle in your presence. Despite the ring being a constant reminder of your love and broken promises, it was always safely tucked under the thick material of his gloves. Simon’s way of keeping you with him, of having something that made him cling to his sanity no matter how much bloodshed those same hands spill. 

“Half a month.” He’s more explicit this time, his warm hand running up and down the length of your back, not daring to go lower despite how much his entire soul craves you. It’s a tender moment that gives him an inner sanctity, and he’s not looking into ruining it. 

His eyes flutter shut as your delicate arms encircle his shoulders, hugging his body closer to yours, the smell of tobacco invading your nose. Despite it all, you’re placing all your trust in Simon one last time.

[starryylies]

can we get baby fever simon when we tell him we're pregnant?!?

ੈ✩‧Simon when you’re preggo *ੈ✩‧

✰☺︎✰~ Bby fever: manifested to reality ~✰☺︎✰

🍼 Simon whose eyes betray him when tears flow out when you give him the news

🍼 Simon who falls to his knees on the ground kissing your stomach thanking you over and over for giving him such a blessing

🍼 Simon who gets right to it, finding baby supplies, trollers, pacifiers etc

🍼 Simon who buys a crib from ikea which leads to him cursing the instruction paper calling it stupid and badly explained

🍼 Simon who completely stops drinking infront of you, quitting it to release himself from the past.

🍼 Simon who makes you sit at home and relax like a pretty wifey so you don’t exert yourself

🍼 Simon whose praises for you are constant the entire day, from when you get up till when you sleep

🍼 Simon who gets very overprotective of you like a guard dog.

🍼 Simon who finally has the courage to visit his fathers grave only to look down on it and say he will never treat his kids like that

[laughroditee]

Weird domestic shit the TF141 guys do that (playfully) irk you, as their partner:

🏷️ | Price:

Wears socks during sex.

Tightens all of the jars in the house too tightly so that you’ll have to ask him to open them for you. (Toxic chivalry.)

Enjoys giving you beard rash anywhere and everywhere he possibly can.

💀 | Ghost:

Kisses you immediately after eating onions.

Leaves the toothpaste tube strangled in the center with all the toothpaste bunched at the bottom.

You find bullets everywhere, including in the freezer.

🧼 | Soap:

All of his dirty laundry is placed directly on the floor, next to the laundry basket.

Cleans up his mohawk but then doesn’t clean up the fucking hair clippings out of the sink.

Always wants to cuddle you so bad when he’s sleeping that he will squash you and/or push you out of bed.

🧢 | Gaz:

Buys your favorite snacks… for a price. Or is it… “for Price?” You’re never sure.

Offers to make you grilled cheese but then burns it because he’s too busy flirting with you.

Insists on giving you mani-pedis, only they’re so very messy. You assure him that they look great.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) captain price nsfw alphabet with p-links, 𝒶⸺𝓏

𝒜 = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) : john, as i've stated before, is very touchy. he likes having his hands on you in any way that he can. so he'll pull you to his chest as the two of you catch your breath and run his hands along your body, pressing kisses to the crown of your hairline. you usually end up dozing off before john does and so he takes the initiative to grab a warm, damp cloth and clean up the mess of cum between your thighs. after he's done, he'll hop right back into bed and pull you flush to his body, sliding his hands along the expanse of your thighs and counting each beauty mark and mole along your body in the dim lighting of the room until he eventually falls asleep. [connected to this post and this one as well!]

𝐵 = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) : john's favorite body part of his would have to be his hands. they're big and calloused from work and he enjoys gently grasping your hips with them when he pulls you in for a slow kiss. he also adores how much you love them as well, his hands swamping yours whenever the two of you interlock fingers with each other. now john has an obsession with your lips, for him, they convey your emotions much better than words ever could. he can tell when you're annoyed with him by the purse of your lips. can tell when you're feeling shy by the slight upturn of the corner of your mouth. can tell when you're being sassy and sarcastic with the cute smirk that'll grace your lips and also when you're feeling sad by the way your lips curl in on themselves to form a line, and perhaps that's not a body part but it's his absolute favorite.

𝒞 = cum (anything to do with cum basically... i’m a disgusting person) : john's cum is pearl white in color and it's sticky and thick and there's always so much of it when he cums for the first time. the taste of his cum is slightly salty but it's not overbearing, you love the taste of him. price prefers to cum inside of you rather than anywhere else, this only started after john saw you holding your friend's newborn baby in your arms, it's been john's mission to impregnate you since then. [connected to this post!]

𝒟 = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) : it's no secret that john is older than you, there's an obvious age gap and some people may sneer at your relationship (as you're in your mid to late twenties and john is thirty-seven.) during playful banters between you and john, your go-to "insult" is always, "old man", "yes, daddy." or something along those lines. and despite himself, price always finds that he's thick and hard in his pants. he won't ever tell you that though.

𝐸 = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) : okay, price isn't the type to sleep around, he's had some occasional flings here and there, but that's about it. that doesn't mean he's inexperienced though, john puts in work. he studies your reactions and what you like. a delicious roll of his hips has him hitting that spongey little spot inside of you. licking his thumb before planting it on your clit to rub quick figure eights, has your thighs shaking and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer, and whispering lewd things in your ear and kissing you all sloppily in his pussy drunk state? has your cunt leaking all over the place. john price knows how to fuck and make love, he's perfect.

𝐹 = favorite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) : hm, john's favorite position is called the 'g-whiz' it's a stupid name lowkey but it gives him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock. it also gives him access to your g-spot and your clit as well. three birds with one stone (he loves watching your tits bounce too.)

𝒢 = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) : it's a mix. there are times when the two of you are going at it like bunnies and perhaps bump heads a bit too hard. or maybe one of you trips while pulling off a piece of clothing-- there's going to be obvious laughter. during softer sex, where john's thrusts are deep and rolling, slow and intimate--- his gaze is always so full of his adoration for you and it leaves you breathless at times. he kisses gently, whispering words of love to you and smiling at the tears that sting your eyes. so yeah, he's a mix.

𝐻 = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) : john, before he met you, wasn't really sexually active, and so he didn't keep up with grooming himself, there was no need for him to. he was out in the field for weeks on end at a time and when he was off the field all he wanted to do was relax and sleep as much as he could before he had to go back out for another mission. after he met you, however, he wanted to groom himself. not that you seemed to care, nor had you ever complained. but he did it anyways. so, price's hair is brown, nicely trimmed, with no scraggly hairs in sight.

𝐼 = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) : please, john is madly in love with you and he himself knows it and he loves to make it known to you often, even outside of sex. price loves keeping eye contact with you, whether it's through a mirror, while you're riding him, or in any other position that allows the two of you to be face to face. he loves watching the small ticks in your expression as he grinds his hips into yours, cock sinking into you at the most excruciatingly slow pace he's ever gone. loves the way your cheeks flush and your cunt squeezes him when he calls you his, "pretty girl." this man also says 'i love you' often, and it's always so genuine, you never grow tired of hearing him say it. (he definitely doesn't kiss your chin when you give him an annoyed pouty look at his slow pace, he definitely doesn't apologize and speed up either.)

𝒥 = jack off (masturbation headcanon) : i find it hard to picture price masturbating, but i believe he does so when he's away from home for weeks on end, but it's not mindless masturbation like most men are prone to doing. john, when he's away from you for long periods of time, gets almost…needy?? in a way. this man misses you like no other, he misses the smell of you, your loving touches, your smile, your cooking, you pulling him to the living room floor to dance, your horrible singing when the two of you shower together and god he misses the sound of your voice. and this feeling is all so new to him and it's almost overwhelming. 

so when price has the downtime, he calls you, it's a spur-of-the-moment call and when you pick up, he can hear the thickness of sleep in your voice; he feels selfish and a bit foolish, he was acting like a horny teenager. however, after hearing the excitement in your voice and the surprise, he can only smile and ask how everything has been at home. who would've thought that the sound of your voice, all sleepy and soft would get him hard and thick within his cargos? who also would've thought that john price would unzip himself to pull out his rigid cock, tip leaking with pearlescent pre-cum and pulsing in his large hand. yes, john ends up fucking his fist to the sound of your voice, humming and grunting softly to signify that he's listening to you, thighs tensing and heart hammering in his ribcage. i mean, what you don't know won't hurt you.

𝒦 = kink (one or more of their kinks) : hear me out, roleplay, please! wait, think about it, perhaps it's not full-on roleplay but it's something of the sort, john gets a raging boner when you call him 'captain price' mockingly or 'sir'. another would have to be breeding, john wants to knock you up so bad it's almost an obsession, would love to see you swollen with his child, most definitely says something along the lines of. "good girl, wan' t'get you pregnant so bad. you'd like that, hm?" during sex. a mild voice kink? loves the sound of your voice and almost always cums instantly when you beg him to fill you up.

𝐿 = location (favorite places to do the do) : don't really see john being too much of an exhibitionist but the two of you have had sex outside at a park, while on a picnic. you had crawled into his lap and kissed him softly, pleadingly, blinking your pretty little lashes at him and i mean; who is he to say no to your greedy little cunt? however, he prefers to do it in the comfort of your shared home. ♡

𝑀 = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) : your teasing. whether it be playful or sexual it always riles price up. it's one of the many things that he loves about you, your sense of humor. and you express it well, not just through your actions or your words but also through your eyes, they're always so expressive and glittering with light mischief that he can't help but sweep you off your feet, throw you over his shoulder, and carry you into the bedroom.

𝒩 = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) : hurting you in any way, there are some things he's a bit lenient on if you like it; like choking and light slapping but other than that, it's a no for price. man loves you too much to do anything of the sort.

𝒪 = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) : as much as john loves having his cock buried down your throat, watching as you stare up at him with tear-stained cheeks, your mouth and chin covered in spit and his cum— he enjoys eating you out. he loves the taste of you on his tongue, loves to overstimulate you, loves to control your orgasms, loves to hear you beg and roll your hips on his tongue. if john could he'd spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, large hands gripping the fat of your hips to keep you still as your thighs quiver and your pussy pulses from being too sensitive, he would. well shit, i guess that should be one of john's kinks too then, huh?

𝒫 = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) : price is usually slow and sensual, with fervent deep strokes, tender kisses, and whispered murmurs of love. what can he say? he loves showing that he loves you in all that he does. however, on the days when he comes home after a mission gone awry or being away for a long time in general, he's gonna be fast and rough; using your body any way he pleases. on days like this, he prefers you in 'doggy style' or even the 'mating press', and immediately gives you cuddles afterward though, telling you briefly of his mission as you run your hands through his hair. ♡

𝒬 = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) : hm, john isn't one for quickies, i mean he doesn't mind a quickie, the park sex that the two of you had was a quickie after all. but i believe he much prefers proper sex, that way he can pull orgasm after orgasm from you and take his time as well. 

𝑅 = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) : john is down to try something at least once, especially if it's something that you want to try. not too long ago, you handcuffed price to the bed and edged him until he had literally begged you to let him cum, it was quite the sight and he's down to do it again. 

𝒮 = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) : give this man two good rounds, and then he's tuckered out. however he doesn't mind if you're still reeling to go, he'll pull you onto his lap and let you ride him until you're sated. or even make you ride his face, he could never deny you anything after all. 

𝒯 = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) : y'all hear me out once more....vibrating panties. rahhhh, hold on hold on. you guys use it when you're out on walks, at restaurants and sometimes even at dinners with your friends. man gets bricked up at the sight of you squeezing your thighs together, breathless and completely out of it. however, in the bedroom, price is all you need, the man is much better than any toy.

 𝒰 = unfair (how much they like to tease) : teases you often, whether it be with overstimulation, ruining your orgasms, or even having you beg him to let you cum. the man, believe it or not, likes to see your eyes water and your lips pout. loves that he can get his sassy, fiery wife all squirmy and pleading with just a few strokes of his tongue. 

𝒱 = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make) : john is not shy, he'll tell you how good you're making him feel, not with just his deep, guttural groans, but also with words. price is the king of dirty talk and he does it unknowingly, he most definitely curses when he's moaning as well, drawn out 'fucks' and at when your pussy squeezes him tight, he'll say. "shit, sweetheart y'r pussy s'made for me." calls you the lewdest names known to man, but says it so lovingly that you can't help but be turned on even more than you already are.

𝒲 = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) : has definitely had you suck him off while underneath his desk while on a computer call with laswell. poor baby, his face was pink from holding in his moans, especially after you buried him to the hilt down your throat. totally didn't get caught or anything.

𝒳= x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) : the picture speaks for itself. ♡

𝒴 = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) : you guys, price is 37, atp? he's 40, it may not be as it used to be when he was younger but! he puts in the work and most times tires you out before he tires out.

𝒵 = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) : it takes awhile for price to succumb to sleep, no matter how tired he is. so it's usually you falling asleep first. he lays there, holding you close and running his hands along your back and then further. he'll drift off to the sound of your slow breathing and the steady rhythm of your heart.  ♡

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : the full alphabet! ahem, i enjoyed doing this

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Sweet Tooth

König is strict with his diet. He eats high protein, lots of vegetables, and *no* sugar. He has to stay in top condition for his missions. Which is why you're surprised when you get up for a glass of water and see him shoving one of the cookies you made today in his mouth. It isn't his first one, either. He looks so guilty standing there naked in your kitchen that you just kiss his cheek and go back to bed. Neither one of you brings it up, but you start baking more and more treats every day. You claim they're gifts for friends, but you secretly keep track of which ones go missing mysteriously.

He knows there's a problem when he can't quite button that old set of tactical pants covered in rips and questionable stains that show off every inch of his... assets. He can't believe he let himself get 'fat', and you can't believe that he considers himself fat. He vows it won't happen again and works out religiously to get back into shape before his next mission.

The next holiday season, you go easy on him and only bake a few of his favorite treats, finding excuses to stumble upon him eating them late at night in your kitchen. You finally tell him that he can work off the extra calories, no guilt needed. The cheeky grin on his face is the only hint you have before he shows you exactly what kind of workout he wants. Those tac pants have never fit better.

[dmitriene]

könig is big man, with his fair share of a wide and muscular back, voluminous hard biceps and a chunky belly that has its own good amount of fat, paired with thick and fully rounded chest, as well as meaty thighs that always hugged nicely in every pants he wears.

but, it also means that könig eats more than well — full nourishing meals, high calorie side dish with something meaty, salad with fresh vegetables or just chopped vegetables on a plate next to him, something to wash it all down with and a small dessert.

he eats a lot, that you could notice, but all the calories go into the muscles he builds up in the gym and on runs, as well as in the military, where he needs to be strong and in good shape, and he more than doesn't mind gaining weight if he has to eat what you cook for him.

of course, you don't do everything alone — könig knows how to cook well and is also versed in his native, austrian cuisine, an activity that distracts him quite well, considering that it is difficult for him to stand still in one place for a long time, and cooking allows him to move around a lot, side by side with you, which brings him pleasure.

at the same time, both of you can enjoy delicious, hot dishes afterwards, and then bake some delicious dessert, maybe this time könig will even share more recipes from his childhood with you.

but for now, let him thank you for a delicious lunch with little, warm kisses that are slowly pass from your lips to your neck, flesh already blooming with love bites and hungry hickeys.

who knows, maybe this time the dessert is you.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

john price is a loving man. john price is also a man who loves holding you in his arms, fight me if i'm wrong. since he's usually away from home for weeks, even months at a time, whenever he comes home; he drops to his knees and buries his face in ur tummy to hug u, all while ur hands run through the soft tufts of his hair.

john price, even after fucking u like an animal in heat, thick cock bruising ur cervix, and having his skilled tongue pull orgasm after orgasm from u, is a touchy man. he pulls u into his chest and asks softly about the things that have happened since he's been gone, thick fingers brushing through ur hair. he's particularly fond of ur newfound dislike for the next-door neighbor.

[connected to this post!]

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (1 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad

Word Count: 890

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad

“Daddy.”

 A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.

“It’s for school.”

It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”

Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.

Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”

She groans. “But it’s about you!”

Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.

“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.

“You know my name.”

She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn’t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.

“Job,” she says, expectant.

Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.

“Military,” he answers.

She frowns. “How do you spell that?”

“Sound it out.”

She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.

Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.

When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”

Explain. Explain.

Explain…what?

That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?

How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.

Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”

She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”

Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”

She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.

“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.

She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”

Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.

She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”

“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”

“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.

Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.

Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?

“Daddy.”

Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.

He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”

“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.

Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.

“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.

“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.

“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”

Simon drags you in for a kiss.

“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.

“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.

You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”

“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”

“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”

“Had to wash it.”

Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.

It’s because she doesn’t know.

No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[eyelambspider]

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝. - König

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : The WX 400 model, or König, had been sitting in a Cyberlife store for nearly six months without so much as a glance from customers. He had been repurposed from a hard laborer to a sort of domestic care-giver... but the thing was, consumers only wanted the newer models. Until you came by. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2 k 𝐚/𝐧 : consider this my masterpiece, probably will write a second part 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : fluff, hurt/comfort(?), domestic fluff

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄. From the sleek tiled floors, to the large window panes that were cleaned daily, to the Androids that stood on display within.

On white pedestals, circled with fluorescent tags and holograms indicating their model numbers and generic purposes: Domestic housekeepers, caretakers, companions. Smaller synthetic machines that had friendly faces and sparkling eyes. Built for a life amongst humans.

He wasn't built for that. No.

His slate-colored eyes had watched for months, lingering over Cyberlife's newest models at the front of the store. A blank expression as each one smiled hopefully. Perhaps something they were programmed to do. To appear friendly?

He considered it a possibility, sure, but the 'front of the store' androids were a stark contrast to his own model.

The WX-series of androids had been built with only one purpose: hard labor, or to put it more simply, construction work.

When customers came into the store they only wanted one thing: a shiny new companion.

Everyday the eyes of those strangers would frown when they saw him. Hardly sparing the WX a glance before they turned around and considered an AX 400 instead.

An android built for housework and taking care of children, with a soft round face and a smile that reached all the way up to her kind blue eyes...

It seemed a diluted plausibility that one day the repurposed WX would eventually find a purpose. With everyday he inched closer to the possibility of being discarded. Simply unwanted.

Until a particularly cloudy day in May, one of the stares had caught his attention, even in his low power mode. Only able to shift his tired seeming eyes and move at a slow pace. Meeting that oddly new curious gaze of yours. The eyes of a stranger finally lingering on him.

Him.

"Excuse me?" You held your hand up sheepishly, asking for assistance from one of the android retailers, a young looking man with a head of soft brown hair and a blue circular LED on his right temple. The holographic label on his chest reading: Ethan.

"Hello, How can I help you?" Ethan stepped next to your side with a light smile.

You pointed to the WX in front of you, feeling a bit silly for even asking but... "Could you tell me about this one?"

The android salesman nodded, hands folded politely behind him, following your gaze towards the decommissioned android, unable to show the usual grimace humans showed the WX.

"Of course," he agreed easily, "This particular model is a WX 400, a decommissioned laborer. They aren't often sold in stores, but if you are interested I could tell you more about it."

The WX watched you nod, his eyes flickering occasionally between you and the sales-android.

"Why is he decommissioned?" you asked quietly, letting the question linger momentarily before Ethan perked up again, unbiased.

"The WX 400 was only decommissioned in its primary purpose, which was doing manual labor," the mechanical man explained with a synthetic smile, gesturing with his hands for your eyes to follow. "It works perfectly fine, and besides some damage to its synthetic skin and body, and a few replaced parts," he managed a soft light-hearted chuckle, "This model works perfectly fine, just not for its intended heavy lifting purposes. It will work perfectly fine for housework. Is that what you were looking for?"

As the sales-android considered the new possibility, he prompted a new question: "We have many other fine models if you are interested in something else."

The statement, whilst a little profound to you, meant next to nothing to the two androids who patiently awaited your answer.

"I was looking for someone to help around the house," you confirm.

The WX before you, nearing seven foot tall easily in the display case, glanced down at you. Unmoving, but like all androids, his eyes held an uncanny humanity within those blue depths.

He could see the consideration on your face. The way your eyes wearily, almost tenderly, traced the lines and deep scars on his synthetic skin. Deep grooves and lacerations running from his fingers, up his strong forearms and disappearing under the fabric of his standard Cyberlife shirt.

Even the androids face, while once maybe even considered handsome, had a deep scar running over its left side. Over his dirty blonde brow and high cheekbone, tracing over his lips to his chin.

It was a wonder he even worked properly, and the unspoken question must've been written all over your face again.

"The WX has had his diagnostics run perfectly well. I assure you the android itself works perfectly fine," Ethan smiled boyishly when you blushed.

"I don't doubt it," you assured him with an unintentionally adorable grin. "I've just... I've never seen an android like him," you admitted softly, those soft eyes meeting the WX's again.

He was looking right at you again.

Immediately your gaze dropped down shyly, unintentionally reading the blue holographic labels that surrounded the short white pillar he stood on.

"He has a name?" You asked, glancing over to Ethan for confirmation.

"Of course, but if you'd like to reset it-"

"No," you stopped him, feeling a bit more confident than you had when you first entered the store.

"König sounds fine to me."

König watched from his display, with a hint of utter- well... what would you call this?

Disbelief? Surprise?

Surprise when your complexion lit with a smile. Surprise when you said his name and turned to walk with the other android to the front of the store? Surprise as his eyes trailed after your form, unable to comprehend you.

For what reason could you possibly want a repurposed android like him?

It didn't make sense in the slightest, and although he watched you, he felt lost, considering possibilities that felt underwhelming in their answers.

His price was lower than others for being damaged. But so many had passed him by.

It was something König considered for a while, never finding a suitable answer until a new initiative popped across his sensors. Jolting him awake once more.

He was registered now to you. Your name popping across his vision like a directive.

"Thank you," you waved to the man who had helped you with a soft smile, getting a vaguely surprised gesture from him.

"Oh- You're very welcome!" Ethan smiled back and watched for a moment longer as you headed up to König, whom at that moment, was given back full control over his mechanical body. Unlocked from his low power mode.

The blue Thirium that cooled and powered his circuits rushed back into him. Circling through his veins and giving him back full control of his body. The world no longer running in slow motion.

König's hands lifted up slowly. The WX inspecting his hands and flexing his fingers into gentle balls. The two of you watched in silent awe as the large android moved once more, no longer destined for a Cyberlife disposal facility... but for.

König's vision refocused as you reached out. Your tiny hand taking one of his. Warm, and unmarred in contrast to his, and he could feel the almost imperceptible beating of your pulse beneath the contact.

"Come on," you smiled, not quite helping him from the stand, but guiding him down the small step. "I'll show you how to get back home, König," you mused, feeling the large androids cut up hand grip yours a bit tighter.

© Eyelambspider. I only post here on Tumblr! könig photo credit to my friend @koharu-rk800

[casiia]

simon riley goes above and beyond with the orange peel theory. if you mention, or even look at certain fruits at the grocery store he’s buying them.

he will cut all of them for you without you having to ask, sometimes he’ll cut cute shapes and feed them to you whenever the bowl is too full. the fridge is always stocked with some sort of fruit salad, but if you just want an orange he’ll grab two — one for you and one for him. he hands you the fruit and begins to peel the one he is holding, and when you start to think that he’s going to eat it, he hands it to you before peeling his own.

he makes sure to take all of the stringy white parts off as well :((

[yawnderu]

“Y’don’t have to, love.” Selfless as he is, Simon is clearly enjoying the way you take care of him. His pale skin was moist with a sheet mask you put on him, your bedroom filled with the smell of a mix of tobacco and lavender. 

“I want to.” Simon’s gaze softens in response, his pupils nearly swallowing his iris as he looks between you, and your hands working on applying sunscreen on his tattoos, wanting to moisturize them and make them look good, something even he never cared much about doing. 

“Sweet girl…” His free hand goes up to your cheek, caressing your soft skin. His hands may be rough, yet they’re always delicate and gentle when it comes to you. 

Simon’s eyes are half-closed, scarcely paying attention to what you’re doing, and simply focusing on how good it feels, his chest tightening the moment you turn your face to plant a gentle kiss on his hand, every single aspect of the fucked up man he is clearly loved by you.

[starryylies]

dad! Simon picking up his daughter from school would look like this

Simon who loves getting his daughter home from school after he comes back from deployment

because of the way she runs towards him with a toothy smile all excited too see her dad after such a long time,

Running as fast as she can with her wobbly legs yelling “daddyy daddyy look I got a gold star today!!!”

Simon who gives out a huge smile under his mask as she jumps into his arms

The warm hug shared between them is Simon’s favourite part of the day,

he can’t comprehend how such an adorable little creature came into existence by him.

Simon who puts her down as he walks holding her small hands as she grabs onto his pinky.

Holding onto her cute pink hello kitty bag

A huge contrast of his threatening demeanour and him in his full military gear.

People look back at him taking second glances, but simon doesn’t care

As long as his little angel is happy he is the happiest man on earth. :)

@cloudofbutterflies92 love u sm for the idea 🩷

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Little Ghost Holiday Drabble

Synopsis: Baking during the winters with your kids and husband during the holidays.

A/n: Hi, my lovelies! I know that I have a lot of works to catch up on, I'm a little behind on everything right now as school has taken a toll on me and so has writer's block. I'll try my best to post more consistently, I know most of you who followed me for the domestic content miss it so here is a little something for our favorite family.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

"Momma, look!" You turned your head away from the preheating oven to look at your little sunshine, although she was struggling to mix the cookie batter, her laughter filled the room. Your baby boy coos in your arms as you lifted yourself up.

"Be careful, butterfly. The bowl's really heavy " You smiled at her, she nodded obediently, trying to sneak a taste. "Butterfly, that has raw eggs. How about the chocolate chips instead, hmm?"

Her grin widens, foot stomps like a clumsy, cheery dance on the wood floor as she ran to the pantry. Nothing makes you smile more than the pitter-patter of tiny feet, wherever you were, it was always accompanied by her sugar-laced pitchy voice calling out for you.

She came back a minute or two later, the bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips you specifically bought for her sweet tooth. You give her the child safe scissors, your little girl wanting to be more independent nowadays, something Simon was both proud of and heartbroken about.

Looking up at you with a look of asking permission so you nodded, she squealed before shoving her clean hand in the plastic bag to have a handful of the treat, stuffing her little mouth. "Alright, put the rest in and mix it well, butterfly." You told her as she picked up the wooden mixing spoon again, multitasking on her munchies.

Simon came out of your bedroom together after a steamy shower with the towel around his neck, he wrapped his arms around from behind you, his face buried on your neck which caused you giggle and squeal his name in a playful warning when he lightly nipped at a sensitive spot.

"All done, momma!" She said taking it into her own hands to roll the cookie dough and plop it down on the parchment lined baking tray, her blonde hair sticking out in messy little spikes from what used to be a teeny-tiny bun.

She dusted her dress and flower printed apron before you helped her out in placing the filled tray into the preheated oven. Simon, taking your baby boy off your arms and inviting Ghostie onto the playing mat with them.

You watched them, keeping an eye on the oven which made your whole house smell warm and cozy against the snow outside the windows.

With warm cookies and cold milk, you stare at your loves before you, Ghostie practically stuffing her chubby cheeks full of the baked sweet with one hand, light beige crumbs and the sticky chocolate on the same bouncing cheeks while her other hand was offering half a cookie to her dad's lips.

Reminding you of moments during breakfasts and mornings when it was syrup and whipped cream instead of the crumbs and chocolate, when her giggles and birds chirping filled the otherwise depressingly silent rooms. You aren't ready for her to grow up despite your husband being more open about it.

Your baby boy chewing on his blue rubber teething toy as you enjoyed the ambiance of your warm home. Enjoying and savoring every moment you had while your family is complete, while Simon was still home for this time of year..

Within the very home and family that you and your husband built, your heart as full as it could ever be <3

[deunmiu-dessie]

price, after seeing you with kids, vows to himself that he'll get you pregnant.

  "i'm so happy you guys could make it!"

    john watches fondly as you smile. it's wide and genuine, the action making your nose scrunch up; your head tilting to the side to mimic the woman's excitement─ and john can hardly take his gaze off of you. your eyes glimmer at the sight of your heavily pregnant best friend and the woman watches with a soft smile as the two of you make your way up their driveway. 

 your body is tucked away underneath john's arm, the usual warmth of your perfume; a sweet and spicy blend of saffron and sugared vanilla, has him unable to keep his hands off of you and he makes it obvious with the way his thumb rubs back and forth over your bare shoulder. and you're just as guilty as he is, with the way your hand is nestled snuggly in the back pocket of his jeans, the other stationed right atop his hand that rests affectionately on your shoulder. 

when the two of you can make it to gatherings in your neighborhood, there's bound to be talk and swooning about you and john the next day. most women were envious that even after being together for years, it seemed like the two of you were still in your honeymoon phase.

 "jas! babe, what are you doing up?" your voice is a teasing lilt as you shimmy your way out from under john's arm, looking back at him briefly to flash him a pleased smile. however, it's different from the one you sent jasmine earlier, it's softer, intimate, and familiar and it warms his belly better than bourbon ever could; his eyes soften and he smiles back, the crow's feet around his eyes deepening. 

despite john only having a few days off until his next mission, which he had wanted to spend with you, cuddled up next to the fireplace and watching movies, or perhaps cooking and baking with each other, all lovey-dovey and tête-à-tête─ you had instead asked if he could spare a day and go to a cookout hosted by a mutual friend. 

of course, he couldn't say no to you. not when you looked so reluctant to ask in the first place, with your eyebrows furrowed and a small frown marring your lips─ the same lips he had languidly kissed until it flipped right side up, with gentle murmurs of reassurance. besides, john didn't mind jasmine's husband. tom was a retired colonel of the army and they had hit it off quite quickly, especially given john's position. 

  reluctantly, john's eyes drift away from where you stand hugging jasmine, immediately spotting tom who is situated with a few other men at the grill. sucking in a breath, john made his way over to them, a smile splitting his cheeks when tom notices him, his tongs clanging against the metal. "well i'll be damned, if it isn't john, fucking, price." 

 the two men join hands briefly, "tommy, i've been gone a few months and she's already pregnant again." john chuckles softly at tom's sheepish look, the man's cheeks pinkening. "m'surprised y'r balls haven' shriveled up yet." john finishes, dropping into a squat to pluck a lone water nestled amongst the beers. “well, what can i say? she’s all over me!” tom, through his boisterous laughter at his own joke, notices the bottle and sends john a smirk, "you gone in a few days?"

 john grunts, hoping to save himself from the conversation, talk of work right now would only annoy him. tom clasps him on the shoulder firmly and sends him a mocking grin, perhaps this is why john liked tom, banter flowed naturally between the two of them. john was reminded of gaz time and time again when holding a conversation with the retired colonel. "it's as i said before. maybe it's time for you to settle down, you're not getting any younger."

  john grunts at that one too, eyes scanning the bustling cook-out to look for your comforting presence. he immediately finds you amongst your group of friends, a newborn babe nestled in the crook of your arms delicately and other children playing a simple version of tag around your legs. you're gazing down at the baby with envious adoration, eyes sparkling with awe and something akin to being maternal and it knocks the breath from his throat, his heart swelling within his chest at the sight of you. 

   and for a moment, he pictures that you're holding his child in your arms and that those are his kids circling your legs. and it's when your eyes somehow find his, your smile shy and your eyes almost pleading, that he swears to himself that he'll get you pregnant. and an ache to see your belly swollen with his child starts in his chest before traveling straight to his cock. tom chuckles, it's a knowing and judgment-free look. "i guess your mind is made up, huh captain?"

connected with this post!

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Hands Off

You tell Ghost that you're pregnant. He is ecstatic and wants to shout to the world. When you say you want to keep it quiet for a bit, he agrees and understands. Anything for you. Unfortunately, he can not curb his protective tendencies that have now ramped up to a 15/10. You're honestly surprised that he allows either of you to leave the house or for you to be away from him from any length of time. While he has always carried a pistol holstered at his waist, now he carries a minimum of two and an assortment of knives, first aid supplies, and anything else he thinks you might possibly need. This includes ginger in a minimum of two forms just in case you start feeling sick.

It takes less than a week for everyone to find out. Not because Ghost can't keep his mouth shut, but because he. Can. Not. Shut. It. Off. The moment any of the men crowd you, he is inserting himself between you and them, becoming a solid wall with a glare that could immolate a weaker person on the spot. You have to send him on errands to get any space at all, making for some concerned glances and raised eyebrows. When König pushes you playfully while he is across the room, Ghost explodes. Knocking König to the ground and pinning him there with a knife to his throat. König holds his hands up in surrender, confused as to what happened. It is your hand curling around his shoulder and your pleading voice in his ear that redirects him. He whips around, one boot planted firmly on König's chest and caresses your belly carefully, asking over and over if you are both ok.

You smile weakly at the room at large as they stand in shock. "Surprise! I'm pregnant." You could hear a mouse fart in the silence that follows. Then, weakly, "Congrats, Bubu" from the floor. "Oh, no. Ghost, let him up." Ghost moves his boot reluctantly, dragging it across König's chest. You punch his arm for being such a brat, but his face shows zero remorse. As König stands, the room breaks out into whispers. Your face flushes in embarrassment, and Ghost starts digging in his pockets. "Ginger chew? Hard candy? Emesis bag? Are you sure the baby is ok?" He is nearly feral trying to care for you. It starts with a quiet snicker from Soap, then the team begins laughing in full force.

"Never thought I'd see Ghost panic."

"Is he like this all the time now?"

"Ghost, you know we will keep her safe." The last is earnestly said by Captain Price.

"Then keep yer bloody mitts off! God damn touchy-feely pricks." You wrap an arm around his waist. "Our touchy-feely pricks, Ghost. Our friends."