#my lad stays close to home

[zeestarfishalien]

The coyotes are awful bold tonight and we have a newly crippled kitty who refuses to become a house cat.

Coyotes: *prancing outside the dog yard, taunting the dogs*

Me: *opens gate*

[heartswithinreach]

Sitting on LaDS lap

Xavier

Physical contact is nothing new for you two. You trust Xavier with your life on the battlefield and when you're fighting the evening commute.

The train is packed on your way home after fighting Wanderers all day but Xavier doesn't notice until he sits down and realizes the person sitting next to him isn't his partner.

But before he can give up his seat for you, you're sitting across his lap and resting your head on his shoulder. He watches you settle, amused and flustered by your boldness to do something like this in public.

"I don't think this is allowed for safety." He says gently, not wanting to wake you. "But if you're that tired..."

Xavier holds you close, making sure you don't fall off his lap from the movement of the train, and peacefully dozes with you until you're home.

Rafayel

“You’re supposed to be my bodyguard — why aren’t I sitting on your lap?”

Rafayel pouts mostly for show and so he doesn’t come across as too eager. He’s barely holding back from squeezing you in a tight hug, he didn’t expect you to be so soft.

But he also didn’t expect what he said would make you self conscious. Rafayel quickly pulls you back down when you try to get off of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, making sure you stay put.

“Relax, cutie. I was just joking. You can stay for as long as you want.”

But he will expect you to return the favor whenever he wants in the future. Especially if it’s at an event and he wants to rub your relationship in other peoples’ faces.

Zayne

His reaction depends on where you are and what the situation is.

If you sit on his lap while waiting to be seated at a restaurant, he’ll be unimpressed by the PDA but allow it so you’re both not sore from standing.

In the privacy of his or your apartment, you’re welcome to do whatever you like.

Every time you come near him in the early evening while he’s reading a book, he secretly hopes you’ll curl up on his lap. Your warmth is just the balm he needs after his shift at the hospital.

Zayne always worries about his evol in the back of his mind. What if his body temperature is too low and being so close is unpleasant for you? The only thing that’ll stop him from fretting and relax is if you play with his hair.

Sylus

Your ass hasn’t touched an actual chair in this man’s presence since you made your relationship official.

The first time you tried, he stopped reading his intel to ask, “What are you doing all the way over there, sweetie?” and patted his thigh. It couldn’t have been more obvious what he wanted.

Won’t stand for any “I’m too heavy” nonsense. He’s genuinely offended when you say that. Have you seen his physique? He waits until you’ve decided to give it a shot and then he's manhandling you onto his lap.

Pavlov dogs you into this routine until one day you just sit on his lap, completely unprompted, and he gives you the most infuriating, self-satisfied grin when you realize what you’ve done.

He’s won this small victory and he won’t let you forget it.

[alwaysshallow]

boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon! Who did ask your son for your hand in marriage because…uh…who else was he supposed to ask?

Simon! Who carefully planned the entire day to make sure Ollie was in a good mood (because he knew that Boy, if he was sleepy, grumpy, hungry or simply just ‘issy’, don’t tell you that he knew that word, he would say no and then snitch)

Simon! Who first made the kids favorite pancakes, which then fell on the ground as Ollie tried to walk to the table

Simon! Who took him to the museum only for the dinosaur (the only part Ollie liked) to be closed for the day

Simon! Who took Ollie to the park but the kid fell and chipped one of his baby tooth (superglue it back together? He knew he would be a deadman if you saw this)

Simon! Who had to cut the park short cause it started raining

Simon! Who went to Ollie favorite ice cream bar and to low and behold…Ollie’s favorite flavor is out

Simon, who on the drive home, looks back through the mirror to see the toddler looking out the window and figures it might as well be now- so nothing else could could wrong

“Olls?”

“Des sir.”

“Can I ask you a question, Lad?”

Ollie blinked a few times and then nods, unaware that Simon couldn’t actually see him the entire time because he was driving, “Okay.”

“Your mum and I- well I love her a lot, you know that, right?”

Ollie nods.

“And you know how you and your mum moved into my house right?”

“Is cause you have cooler backyard.”

“Yeah- I do have a big backyard,” Simon trailed off for a moment and then clears his throat, “Olls, would you be okay with me staying around for a super long time?”

A pause. “That’s a daddies job. Momma said you’re her boy-frend and that you’re not my daddy.”

“But- what if I wanted to be your dad?”

A longer pause.

“Ollie?”

…

“Oliver?”

“You wouldn’t leave us like him though- right?”

Well great, he didn’t need to almost start crying on the highway, so he nodded, “Never leave you, laddie.”

Part two! 🫢

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Safe and sound....Kinda" pt. 2

You went M.I.A. and the LADS Men are stressed!

Xavier

"It's been almost a week Jeremiah we need to check places the hunter association won't look" Xavier was already on the move heading towards the first No-hunt Zone of many. Jeremiah trailed behind him almost jogging trying to keep up.

"I understand that Xavier, but you're not in the right head space to-" Jeremiah swallows his words when Xavier whipped around abruptly getting in his face. "to what? Find the love of my life? I'm done waiting around twiddling my thumbs she could be out there dying for all we know"

Xavier turned on his heels and continued on his path "If your way of helping is planting seeds of doubt then don't follow me"

After two days of non-stop searching he did it. In the deepest parts of the forest Xavier found himself at the tip of your Hunters sword nearly taking his head off. His eyes widened in shock just as yours did when you realized who you were looking at "Xav......?" Your words faded as you dropped your sword and fell into his chest almost knocking him over.

"Where have you been? What are you doing in this zone its dangerous"

"I got pulled into rift I've been fighting alone for five days" Your breathing was labored before you began to cough. Xavier flinched from the death grip you had on his arm as you tried to keep yourself upright. That's when he noticed your ripped clothes. Since when was your uniform so short and revealing?

It wasn't.

You'd been tearing you clothes to bandage your wounds, but they weren't doing so well considering they were soaked through in old and fresh blood. Your shoes were missing along with your socks. "I kept fighting because I knew...." A cough tore from your chest making your throat burn as you coughed up blood. "....I knew you'd find me" Your grip loosened as you went slack in his arms.

"Of course I'd find you" Xavier managed you wrangle you onto his back as he sent his coordinates to Jeremiah to come and pick the two of you up. "Just hang on a little longer"

Sylus

You dragged your shoulder along the wall of a back alleyway before dropping falling flat on the ground. You don't know how many days it's been since you told Sylus you'd be back in less than a day. Your vision blurred as your head swam from exhaustion and dehydration.

"I see her!" That voice sounds familiar....

You feel two sets of hands on you pulling you into a sitting position, but your head is so heavy. "Just let me sleep for a while"

"No you have to stay up Boss is almost here" Luke?

"Stay with us" Kieran?

You felt that comforting red and black mist engulf you and soon you were cradled in Sylus' arms. If you didn't know any better you'd say Sylus looked as if he'd been crying. His eyes seemed bloodshot, but what do you know you can barely keep your eyes open. You're probably seeing things.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I dropped my phone & a wanderer shattered my watch .... along with my wrist .... I figured if I got close enough to the N109 Zone .... you would find me" A weak smile graced your lips. "Looks like I was right"

"Let's get you home" He whispered and it was the last thing you heard before your head bobbed one last time and darkness consumed you.

Sylus made sure you had the best medical care money can buy while staying in the comfort of his king sized bed. He wouldn't leave your side as you slowly recovered. "Were you crying over me?"

"Shut up and take your pain meds"

Sylus is hard to write because that man got Mephisto on our ass 24/7

Zayne & Rafayel here ♡

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

[littlemissshoei]

SYLUS HEADCANONS (LAD)

sfw & nsfw — this one's in honour of my sylus smutshot doing so well heh..

content warning: suggestive / nsfw content, mentions of kinks, fluff, bad habits

i love Sylus so much guys.. Nothing's gonna top Zayne for me but he feels like a breathe of fresh air for sure!

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS enjoys teasing you. He loves trampling on all your nerves, pissing you off and driving you towards your breaking point. His sarcastic little remarks followed by the oh so innocent drop of his favourite petnames for you (kitten, sweetie) are enough to make you want to strangle him.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS makes sure you know how badly he wants you. Be it from his painfully obvious flirt attempts through text messages or how straightforward he acts when you're face to face; He wants you to know that you have his full attention and that he'd do anything to win you over.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is honest with you when it comes to his business and way of handling things. He doesn't need someone that's terrified of him by his side, hence why he decided to let you onto anything you wish to know, waiting to see just how much you can handle.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS makes sure to get you everything your heart desires. He doesn't care about what he has to do to obtain it (Both legal and illegal methods), He will get it for you with no hesitation. So when a strange package with your favourite perfume (that was sold out everywhere) gets delivered to your doorstep, you know who the culprit behind it is.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is a sore loser. The amount of times you had to drag him away from the claw machine before he went berserk on it makes you laugh. Kieran and Luke tend to tease him about it — behind close doors that is. What ticks him off even more is when he uses his evol, just to fail his much bragged about attempt too. Whenever the two of you visit the arcade you prefer staying away from any pay to win games, yet you cannot deny how cute that proud look on his face is whenever he manages to get you the plushie you desired.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS' favourite places to kiss you are your lower back, your inner thighs and your pulse points, though he prefers leaving bite marks rather than soft kisses.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS loves to mark you up. He couldn't care less about making it obvious. If he could, he'd paint your whole neck full of purple lovebites. Due to his habit, there have been way too many times where you ran out of foundation to cover them. Good thing he's rich, because he always buys you a new one (when you beg him. He prefers leaving you foundationless so you cannot cover them up.)

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is a switch. While he enjoys being the one in control, watching you squirm under him as you try your best to get used to his length, something about you taking the lead turns him on like crazy. The way your fingers graze over his skin as you tease him, pressing featherlight kisses all over his body, it turns his brain into mush.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is very much into bondage, breath play / choking, risky situation (public / semi public sex), marking, etc. His favourite positions are reverse cowgirl (especially in front of a mirror or any reflecting surface where you can see your pretty expression), and doggy style (allowing him to do as he pleases with you)

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS gets pissed off easily when it comes to you. He absolutely despises you staying away for too long, not even mentioning you'll be home later as usual. While he doesn't like to admit it, the fear of losing you gnaws at him. Most of your arguments with Sylus have to do with your stupidity and knack for getting yourself into trouble.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS usually turns to silent treatment when he's had enough. Even though you two rarely get into arguments, whenever you do he becomes silent. He doesn't like opening up, considering emotional moments like this nothing but a hassle, a weakness that should never be exposed. The more time passes, the more he is willing to open up, but for him to talk it out with you instead of locking himself in his room and staying there until he feels better will take a whole lot longer than the mere babysteps you managed to make so far.

[fish-crow-star-snowman]

LaDS Zayne Imagine

Zayne x reader/mc

angst, fluff, pregnancy and labor

You had gone into labor before you knew it. Everything was planned and carefully organized for the big day that your little one would arrive.

No one is ever really READY though. Your excitement and nervousness was getting the best of you. While Zayne whom was often on the other side of that spectrum, calm and collected as ever, was quite the nervous wreck himself.

He'd been at work all day, not too busy. Regardless, he hated leaving you at home. Prayed in hopes that he would conveniently be home by the time you went in labor. His heart dropped receiving a call from the obstetrician gynecology department of the hospital.

"Dr.Zayne, your wife is in labor."

Throughout the months of the pregnancy, there were several talks with your obgyn about this being possibly high-risk. Every possible scenario surged through Zayne's head. During the whole experience, you often were met with doctor Zayne rather than what you needed the most, your partner.

The second the call hung up, he was quick to run to your side. He'd already given notice to his colleagues prior to your arrival just in case. He was almost always prepared. Almost.

His eyes gleamed upon seeing your already exhausted but seemingly relieved look. While he's obviously glad to see you're okay, his attention turns to the doctor, another colleague.

"How is she doing, Dr.Turner?"

"Oh Dr.Zayne, it's been a while! How have you been holding up?"

Silence sweeps the room for what felt like an eternity. Zayne clearly was not in the mood for a reunion. The doctor opting to answer his question instead.

"She is one centimeter dilated. No imposing risks so far. It's been smooth sailing. However she's not progressing nearly as fast as we would like.

"How long has she been here?"

"3 hours, sir."

"Why wasn't I called earlier.."

His tone deepens, irritation seeping from his obviously overworked body. The doctor stayed quiet, knowing the words 'too busy' wouldn't have been a good enough answer.

"My love, I tried calling you first but you didn't pick up. I remembered you had a 6 hour surgery this morning. I chose to call an ambulance instead. I'm sorry."

Guilt stung his chest. Of all hours of the day, why. He walked to your side and took your hands in his, pressing your fingertips to his lips and whispered.

"You always come first. No matter what."

His words were meaningful and for a moment you had the man you had been longing to have for months. It was short-lived however.

Like the doctor predicted, it was an unusually long process. You didn't dilate your second centimeter until 6 hours after your partner's arrival at your room. It's been about 30 hours of nonstop cycles of contractions. Unbeknownst to him, Zayne hasn't been making things easier.

Both of you were completely worn out, haven't ate or slept. Zayne's surgeon mode was still on and you were about to combust. Talks with the doctors about your condition like you weren't in the room, like you were just another one of his patients. Looking over your chart and giving demands to the nurses as if he were still working.

You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure for you. Making sure you were in the best health at all times and he was doing an amazing job. It didn't change the fact it was making you feel a little alone in this. What you needed was his hands on yours, telling you that you were going to be okay. That you can do this. A kiss to your forehead every now and again for reassurance maybe?

Nine centimeters. Finally. You were close to the end and soon you'd be holding the proof of yours and Zayne's love. At least it's what it should have been but you were at your breaking point. Zayne had his back towards you still keeping up conversations with nurses.

"Zayne!"

He tensed hearing your strained shout. He turned to look at you with that oh so familiar concerned gaze. Everything was quiet once again. All that was heard was the sound of the monitors beeping. It was your turn to feel guilty.

You closed your eyes briefly and sucked in a deep breath before holding out your hands for him to take. Understanding your gesture, he walks to your bedside crouching slightly to your eye level.

You fought hard to keep the tears from spilling out of your water line. You spoke in the softest tone possible, in hopes to forget how you just yelled at him.

"You are an amazing doctor and I couldn't ask for a better one these past few months." You paused for a moment, letting a tear shed your cheek and huffing another breath. "But I would like to have my husband for this.. please.."

His eyes widened at the implication of your words and letting out a soft gasp of realization.

He stands up finally relieving himself of his white coat he had been wearing since yesterday and removed his glasses to set on your bedside table. It showed how disheveled he was underneath. Hair was a mess, tie crooked from his constant fidgeting and tugging, and two buttons at the top of his shirt undone.

Zayne motions you to scoot down your bed a little, sitting behind you to cradle you with his strong legs on both sides of your body. His fingers traced the back of your arms before resting them on your shoulder and giving them a tight squeeze. Small kisses made their way from your shoulder to your neck.

Your body reacted immediately, letting loose the tension you didn't know you even had.

"I'm sorry." Zayne's voice a little shaky but gentle and clear nonetheless. "I'm sorry I've left you alone in this. It was never my intention. I love you so much." He repeats those same two words over and over.

While you can feel your gown dampen from his own tears, you can't help but smile. This. This is what you needed to relax. Before you could open your mouth to respond, the obgyn breaks the moment.

"Alright, ten centimeters dilated. Are you ready to start pushing?"

Zayne drops his hands to your side, signaling for you to take them into your own as support. Placing more kisses to the top of your head, he whispers reassurances. 'You've got this' 'You can do it' 'You're so strong'.

You have a tight grip on his wrist threatening to break his arm, but he didn't seem to care. If he could take all your pain, he would. Dilation was a tiring process, everything after seemed to flow rather quickly. The head, then shoulders, and finally legs.

Within seconds of the doctors clearing your baby's nasal passage, you and Zayne hear that oh so beautiful sound you had been waiting for. Before moving on any further, the baby was placed on your now naked chest. You admired every inch of your baby, in awe. Thick black hair sat on top of their small head. Eyes glowing hues of orange and green.

You have a Zayne mini me. Speaking of which, distracted by your own emotions, you forgot to see how your husband was hanging on. And it definitely wasn't like you expected, he wasn't saying anything but he didn't have to. His expression said enough. Your baby already had him wrapped around their finger.

His hand came to rest upon yours that was cradling the back of the baby's head. "Thank you for this new chapter in life you've given me, my jasmine."

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Li, it's a—"

——————————————

a/n: I never intended this to be a fic, it was just meant to be an idea for a better fic writer. one who writes more. It just rolled this way. however if anyone wants to use this, please do. Just give me a little credit ❤️

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hey👋🏾 ! Can I request Shinjuro x Widowed Reader who lost her husband and child to a demon attack years ago and is now remarried to Shinjuro after after Ruka passed. And how Shinjuro deals with being in love with another partner while also being in love with his late wife still grieving her after all these years. Also I’d wonder how Kyojuro and Senjuro would take to having a new mom🤔.

Hey! Thank you so much for the prompt!

So, this story ran away with itself, but I think this had to be a longer piece because there are so many emotions at play here. I wrote this as if the events of Mugen Train never happened and Shinjuro never had that moment of clarity after Kyojuro's death. (Kyojuro will never die on my watch)

If you prefer, it's on AO3 here

Content warnings for: alcoholism, recovering from alcoholism, death of a spouse, death of a child, and Shinjuro just being awful at the beginning of the story. It is kind of a slow-burn but there is an explicit sex scene so minors DNI. 

A Rekindled Flame

Shinjuro Rengoku x F!Reader

Shinjuro curls his lip as you approach. "What do you want now?"

Your husband reeks of sake and stale sweat, his yukata falling open, exposing his broad chest and thick thighs to the neighbors as he sits on the porch. 

Enough is enough.

You hold your breath, "You know what I want. I've asked you every day since the day we got married; I want you to give up the drink and be a father to your sons. Kyojuro left for his mission brokenhearted."

"So?" 

"So… what if he doesn't come back?"

"Why should I care? He's a grown man. He can make his own damn mistakes."

"You're vile. You're shameful!" You were raising your voice to him now, which you never did. You would take shit from Shinjuro all day long, but when it came to the boys, you would defend them tooth and claw. Your fists coiled at your sides. "How dare you!"

Shinjuro's shock at hearing your raised voice buys you a second to snatch the sake bottle from the former flame hashira.

"Give that back!" He growls, trying to stand. He sways and stumbles back down. "I'm not finished."

You defiantly pour the alcohol onto the earth and hand him the empty bottle. "There. You're done."

He simply stares at you, too drunk to form a reaction. "You… my…"

You turn on your heel and walk back into the house, heading to your room. Throughout the year you've been married, you and Shinjuro have never once shared a bed. Not even on your wedding night. He'd barely even made it through the ceremony before he was passed out in a drunken stupor. If not for Kyojuro and Senjuro, you might have run away there and then. Your marriage is loveless by every definition.

"SENJURO!!" Your husband bellows through the house, looking for his youngest. You know exactly what for. He's too drunk to go and buy sake himself, so he'll send the lad to do it. You step out of your room and find Shinjuro staggering through the kitchen. "Where's the boy?"

"Not here." You weren't about to tell Shinjuro, but his youngest son was at the butterfly mansion, where he would stay until he was ready to come home. You've had enough. You have all had enough.

Shinjuro closes his eyes and his throat flexes. He's either holding back from yelling or vomiting or both. "When you see him, tell him I need more sake. Some hell bitch threw mine away." And then he stumbles off to his bedroom and slides the door shut. A few moments later you hear a thud, and then snoring. 

All things considered, it didn't go too badly. 

Before you finish your chores you head over to Ruka's shrine. It has been a decade since Shinjuro's first wife passed, and you know how much he's hurting. You've lived through it yourself. 

You had thought that having both lost your spouses, you would have been a compatible match and bonded over your shared loss, but Shinjuro had only ever reluctantly accepted you as his wife. You were more of a nanny and maid. 

"Ruka… I'm trying," you whisper as you kneel and light the incense. "I'll keep trying, for the boys and for him."

~

The next day, Shinjuro is in a foul mood as anticipated. He trudges from his room and instinctively heads to the porch before remembering the events of the previous day. 

"You owe me a bottle of sake," he grumbles, his voice deep and rough. 

"You owe me a year of my life. Let's just call it even." 

His thick black eyebrows furrow. "Where's Senjuro?"

"Gone."

"Gone where? There are chores to be done…"

You take a breath. "Senjuro left here yesterday morning. He's gone to stay with friends. Kyojuro and I thought it would be best." 

"What the hell is this? My whole good for nothing family turning against me?" He shakes his head, furious tears forming in his eyes. "Why did you take my son away?"

"I didn't send him, he wanted to go," you try to keep your voice firm but calm. Your heart is racing, and as much as you want to get the hell out too, you need to do this for Kyojuro and Senjuro. "Don't you see what you're doing to this family?"

Shinjuro scoffs. "You're the one breaking us apart. The boys are all I have!"

"Senjuro flinches when you walk into the room. Kyojuro works so hard every damn day to make you proud and all you ever do is drink and tell him he's worthless. I don't want to drive your family apart. I want to fix it. I need to fix it, because you have two wonderful sons who deserve the world. And all you're giving them is hell."

He stares at you. A tear runs down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. He knows you lost your own son, that you blame yourself for failing to protect him from the demon who killed both him and your husband. If Kyojuro had gotten there just a second later, you would have died too. 

He steps toward you, muttering the first syllable of your name before he shakes his head. For a moment you could swear he almost showed you empathy. "So… what you're telling me is that I need to quit drinking, and then I'll get my boys back."

You nod. "I know how much you're hurting Shinjuro. I know Ruka was your world and you love her so much the pain is unbearable. But the drink isn't numbing it, is it? You're still hurting, and all the drink does is spread that pain to others." You take a step toward him and lay your hand on his forearm, gazing up at him with desperation in your eyes. "Let me help you, because you truly have such wonderful, kind sons, and they deserve a father. And you don't deserve to drink yourself to an early grave."

His jaw tightens and he looks away. "There's nothing left of me for you to save."

"That's not true." Your racing heart is breaking as you look into your husband's eyes and see there's no light in them at all. "Shinjuro, we'll get you back."

"It's impossible–"

"We're Rengokus. We do not give up. Please Shinjuro… let me help you and then… then I'll leave. You'll never have to see me again. But do this for your sons."

His eyes snap toward you. "Why would you leave?" 

"Because I know you don't love me. You never have, and that's fine." A bitter chuckle leaves your lips. "I don't love you either. Let's just do this one thing. If all we ever do is get you through this, I'll consider our marriage a success."

He stares at you for a moment before his gaze drops to the floor. "Alright. I'll do it. For the boys."

~

The first weeks are hell. 

The withdrawal keeps Shinjuro up at night. He shakes and sweats, throwing his guts up and snapping at you constantly. His irritability is worse than ever and you start to doubt either of you has the strength to keep doing this. 

Every night you pray at Ruka's shrine. It's a comfort to feel like you're both trying to help. The photograph of her gazes back at you with endless patience and grace, and you try your best to draw strength from the hope that she's watching your efforts.

You wash the sweat and vomit from his clothes, you brew tea to help his nausea and let him swear and grumble at you all he wants. But he doesn't touch a drop of sake. 

One morning, three weeks after his last drink, Shinjuro emerges from his bedroom and walks to the table where you're eating breakfast alone.

"Good morning," he says, his voice as deep and growly as ever but lately it's a little gentler. 

"How was last night?"

"Better…" he pulls in a breath and walks to the pot of rice gruel on the table, ladling out a bowl for himself.

"You're eating breakfast?" You've never seen him eat breakfast in the whole year you've been married. 

He nods. "Yeah… I'm hungry."

For the first time, your husband sits beside you and eats. He doesn't smell of sweat and sake anymore, he just smells like… Shinjuro. 

"I'm going to cut firewood today," he tells you as he eats. "I noticed we're getting low, with the boys being gone."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shinjuro has never done chores. "Oh, thank you."

"Don't thank me. I live here too. It's only fair I do my share." He finishes his breakfast and sets his bowl down. His eyes are downcast. "I'm sorry." 

Silence hangs between the two of you. 

You aren't sure how to respond. There are no words to describe the tangled web of feelings you have for the man. There's so much resentment and anger. But you're proud of him too, so very very proud. And truth be told, though your marriage exists in name only, you're attached to him. 

His hand rests on your shoulder, so big and heavy and oh-so warm. "I've been a terrible husband and an even worse father."

"Yes."

He bows his head. "I know words mean less than actions, but I will atone for what I've done and become worthy of the name Rengoku once more." He pulls in a long breath and turns to face you. "My wife… will–" He shakes his head, composes himself, and says firmly, "Can I hold you?"

His request takes you by surprise. "But you hate me."

"No," he shakes his head. "No, I've never hated you. How could I? I've watched you keep this home running while I've sat idle and useless. I've watched you be a mother to the boys and put up with the hell I dragged you through with grace and strength." His gold and crimson eyes are fixed on you. "You are a remarkable woman, the strongest I have ever known. And I know I'm unworthy of claiming the title of your husband, I'm beyond honored to call you my wife."

You can only stare. This man is so different from the one you've been married to this past year. "Shinjuro…" his name emerges as a whisper before your lips curve and you smile at him for perhaps the first time ever. 

Words are unnecessary as you lean into your husband's embrace and his strong arms wrap around you as he buries his face against your shoulder. 

And God, it shouldn't feel this good to finally feel appreciated and loved by him, but it does. You hold each other as if your embrace could heal the deepest wounds, bringing your hand up to softly stroke the back of his head and his wild fiery hair.

"I'm so proud of you," you say at last. "I know nothing has been easy these past ten years."

"It hasn't been for you either, and I've made it so much worse." He pulls back from the embrace and looks into your eyes. "I'm going to be the husband you deserve, if you'll have me. But don't answer yet. Let me earn it." 

He stands and takes your bowls to wash them. When he's done he silently heads outside and it isn't long before you hear the rhythmic thump of an ax hitting wood. 

You go about your daily routine, keeping the Rengoku homestead together as best as you can. You clean, maintain, fix, and finally cook.

When dinner is ready you head outside to tell Shinjuro, but the sight which greets you knocks the air from your lungs. 

He's still hard at work, his torso completely bare and his yukata gathered about his hips. His body is so big and burly, softened by age yet still so strong even though years have passed since he quit his hashira training. He's sweating and his cheeks and chest are flushed a warm shade of pink. He's slightly breathless. The golden sunset highlights every curve and muscle of his body. 

You just… stand… transfixed. 

Your body knows what it wants immediately.

He finally notices you standing on the porch and wipes his brow on his forearm. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm… yeah…" you nod as heat creeps across your cheeks and pools in the pit of your belly. "Dinner's ready."

He nods. "Almost done." 

The heat in your belly seeps lower as you watch him swing the ax again. 

You have to turn away. It has been years since you felt anything close to desire, and the sudden onslaught to your senses is more than you can handle. Heading inside, you splash cold water on your cheeks and add the noodles to the pot, ready to serve.

"Mmm…"

Your heart flutters as you hear Shinjuro's low hum of approval as he steps into the house a few minutes later. "Smells like miso."

"Miso ramen."

"My favorite!"

"I know." You chance looking around and instantly regret it. 

His yukata is back in place but he must have quickly washed up outside as his hair is wet and scraped up into a ponytail. And though he's clearly made an effort to be presentable, the fact remains that his yukata is hardly big enough to fully cover his chest. You can't tear your eyes from the hypnotic sight of water droplets sliding down over his skin.

"Oh~" you clear your throat and turn back to the pot, fixing two bowls of ramen. "It's a shame Kyojuro isn't back yet. He loves this dish."

"Kyojuro loves every dish," Shinjuro chuckles as he sits at the table. "Feeding him costs a fortune. But your ramen is very good." A pained sigh escapes him. "I do miss the boy. I expect he and I will have a difficult conversation upon his return. Difficult but necessary. And as for Senjuro, I can only hope he wishes to come back home."

You set the bowls on the table and sit beside him. "He will. He wants his father. And I've written to him telling him how well you're doing, though it may take a while for the letter to reach him, since Kyojuro has the kasugai crow on his mission." 

Shinjuro pauses with his spoon mid air. "You did that for us?"

You nod.

He reaches out and puts his hand on yours. "I would marry you again, you know. I know you probably can't say the same and I don't blame you for that one bit. But I would marry you without hesitation." 

His hand completely covers yours; large, firm, and warm. You rotate your wrist and turn your palm upward to interlock your fingers with his. 

"It hasn't been easy, Shinjuro, but I would do this a thousand times over to meet the version of you I see today." His stubble rasps against your palm as you reach out and affectionately cup his chin with your other hand, lifting it ever so slightly so he sits a little prouder. "I knew there was a good man beneath all those snarls." 

He chuckles and smiles at you fondly. "Thank you. Ah, I should probably shave, shouldn't I?"

"It's up to you, I quite like the stubble."

"Oh you do?" He raises a thick, dark eyebrow. "Then I'll keep it."

Your cheeks heat. You're flirting with your husband! He laughs softly and continues eating his ramen. 

"It's good. Thank you. You're an excellent cook and an even better wife."

When evening comes and it's time for you to go to bed, you stand together in the center of your house between the two doors.

"Goodnight, sweet wife," he says, squeezing your hand affectionately.

"Goodnight, husband who is trying very hard."

He laughs before he turns and heads to his room. 

~

From that point on, each day gets a little easier. You sit and eat meals with your husband and both spend the day working around your home. You become a team, a family. And every day he recovers more of himself. Every day he becomes the man his family deserves. 

When he's a month sober, you prepare a special dinner; a little banquet just for the two of you.

"Oh my!" His smile beams as he sees all your hard work. "My darling wife, you really are wonderful."

"Thank you." Your heart leaps as he leans in and gently kisses your cheek. 

"No, no, thank you." He chuckles and sits down to eat. He'll never admit it, but since he sobered up it's very apparent that Shinjuro absolutely shares the same voracious appetite as Kyojuro. "Mm… tasty."

You sit together, shoulder to shoulder as you eat, discussing the day and what still needs to be done around the house tomorrow. When he's finished eating you hand him a letter. "It's from Senjuro." 

His smile falters and he suddenly looks timid. His fingers are shaking as he opens the letter. You already know the contents, you know it's nothing but sweetness– of course it is, it's Senjuro– but you know how terrifying this must be for Shinjuro. 

You put your arm around his back as he reads and a few moments later you feel him start to shake as he grits his teeth and a sob bursts out of him.

"Senju–" he cries, bringing the letter to his lips and closing his eyes. "Oh my sweet boys. I miss them."

You pull him into an embrace,  wrapping your arms around him; one around his back, the other cradling his head to your chest as you press your lips to his hair. "It's okay. You're doing so well, Shinjuro. They'll be back soon and they'll be proud to call you their father."

He nods and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you as his tears subside and he composes himself. "You're right. They'll be back and they'll have a father they can be proud of." He keeps holding you, keeps resting his head against you. "Thank you. I can never thank you enough for what you've done for our family." 

"I would do it every day, a hundred times over." You kiss the top of his head, letting your lips linger in his hair. The scent of him is so comforting now, so you draw a deep breath.

He raises his head to look at you, smiling softly, and leaning in to  place a gentle, loving kiss on your cheek. 

His lips are soft in contrast to his stubble which rasps over your skin and stirs a cloud of butterflies in your belly. 

Your heart races as you close the space between you once more and kiss his cheek in return. Your kiss lands a little lower, a little closer to his lips.

He mirrors your gesture, exchanging another chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. And another. And another.

The air between you grows thick and hot as those chaste kisses become loaded with a deeper need. And with every kiss your heart beats a little faster.

Your faces are just inches apart, his shallow breaths fluttering against your lips as the lids grow heavy over golden hued eyes. His gaze drifts to your lips. "Is it…okay if–?"

"Yes." 

He chuckles, brushing his fingertips against your jaw and gently clasping your chin to bring your lips to his. His kiss is soft and tender, his lips slowly and tentatively caressing yours, as if he's rediscovering a path he once knew so well. 

But once he finds the rhythm his kiss grows more intense, and a deep, desperate moan rolls through his chest and echoes in you. The moment his tongue slips against yours you're both gone; lost to the heat and the pleasant tingles shooting through your bodies.

He pulls back for a moment, checking in on you, but you quickly close the gap once more, kissing him with all the passion and adoration you've craved for so long.

Your fingers graze over his stubble as you cup his face between your hands.

"Oh, my wife," he whispers against your lips as he switches from deep, hungry kisses to feathery, gentle ones. "My sweet wife."

He presses his forehead to yours as he traces your lips with his fingertip, making you shiver. 

"I should have told you every day; you're so beautiful," his voice is low and quiet and just for you. "I want to spend the rest of my life cherishing you as you deserve." He places a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. "I never thought I'd feel this way again."

You can hardly breathe; his tenderness is lovely and overwhelming. "I know I'll never replace Ruka. I don't intend to, and I would never expect you to stop loving her."

"You're right, I'll always love her, but I love you too, and there's room for both of you in my heart." He tucks your hair back behind your ear and kisses your temple. "I would never expect you to stop loving your late first husband either. The ones we lose, they're a part of us, and they would want us to be happy." He caresses your cheek and it isn't until he wipes away your tears that you realize you've begun to cry. "Before she died, Ruka begged two things of me: to take care of our boys and to find love again. And you've made both her final wishes possible. Ruka was my first love, but you are my last."

Your heart squeezes at his words. You caress his stubbled cheek before leaning in and letting your kiss tell him everything you can't find the words to express. His lips are addictive, and every kiss fans heat through your body. When you pull away you gently suck his lower lip, pulling a deep, needy groan from him.

"Oh~" his eyes flutter closed. One of his hands is at the back of your neck, the other drifts down to your waist. "You're making me weak, wife."

You can't help but smile as you lean in again and kiss him even deeper. That you can reduce this big, strong former hashira to whimpers with just a kiss is more thrilling than you ever imagined.

His cheeks are a deep shade of pink as he gazes down at you. "We have a lot of time to make up. I want to take care of you. Tell me how to do that."

"Well, we never got a wedding night," you say as your heart pounds.

"You're right." He kisses you again, runs his fingers through your hair. It seems he can't get enough of the sensation of you. "Would you like me to make up for that tonight?"

Your throat is dry, your breath stilted as you nod. "Yes. Shinjuro, right now I want nothing more."

You can see in his eyes how much this means to him. And you feel it too. It's not just the physical pleasure, but the intimacy, the outlet, the emotional release. He carries you to his bedroom and sets you down on the bed, his lips curving into a genuine and grateful smile as he kneels between your knees and leans forward, pressing his body against yours and kissing you. 

It's been so long since you felt anything like this, and your body drinks it in. Before long you're kissing like teenagers, both flushed, your bodies heating. You wrap your legs around him, grinding your hips against his, seeking friction as his tongue strokes yours. 

He chuckles softly. "Easy, little spitfire. I said I'd take care of you and I want to do it thoroughly." His fingers make short work of your clothing, laying you bare as his breath catches in his throat. "Beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with reverence as he gazes down at you.

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, latching onto your nipples with a wanton moan. 

There's so much time to make up for, and he loves you. He desperately does. Never once during that year of lonely hell did you ever suspect that Shinjuro was a man who loves to fuck, but as he kisses his way down your belly and over your hips, he can't hide the curve of his lips or the gleam in his eyes. 

His stubble rasps against your inner thighs as he teases you with hot, hungry kisses, inching closer and closer to where you so desperately need him.

"Just relax," he tells you in that soft, growly voice as he lies between your legs, his lips just inches from your pussy. "Let your husband take care of you."

And God, he does just that. Shinjuro eats your pussy like it's his first meal in forever, licking, sucking, groaning as he devours you. He's experienced; he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's enthusiastic about it, wanting nothing more than your pleasure and your fingers tangled in his fiery hair.

He listens to your moans, he pays attention, figuring out what works for you. Hooking a large, warm hand behind your knee, he lifts your leg and puts it over his broad shoulder and seals his lips around your clit, softly sucking as his tongue flutters. He's spurred on by your cries, your gasps, the way your legs tremble.

"Shinjuro…I'm close." 

It's music to his ears. He doesn't stop, he keeps the same pressure, the same pace, letting your pleasure build and build until you fall apart, bucking against his skillful mouth as he laps up every drop of your essence. When your trembling subsides he gently and affectionately nuzzles your clit with the tip of his nose. 

"God." You lie there panting as he kisses your inner thighs once more. 

"Do you want more?" He asks, lifting your leg and trailing kisses down your calf.

"I never want it to end."

He laughs quietly, shifting his body so he can lie on top of you. You kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips as you run your fingers over his back. His muscles flex and relax beneath your touch.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispers in your ear. 

"Yes." There's so much desperation in your voice. 

A low, approving moan emerges from him before he rocks up onto his knees and stands to undress. His body is just as strong and burly as you remember and just the sight of him makes your breath catch. His cock is hard and standing straight out, curved slightly upward toward the tip, and thickly veined.

His eyes are soft as he looks down at you, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest tells you he's anything but calm.

Raising up, you sit on the bed and put your hands on his hips, pulling him toward you. He smiles and obeys your silent command, stepping closer to you to lay back down on top of you.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to know you want me," he whispers close to your ear. "My God, I have such a beautiful wife."

He trails kisses down your neck, pressing his lips to your throat as you run your fingers through his hair.

"You feel so good, Shinjuro."

"I want to make sure you're good and ready for me first." He reaches down between your legs, his fingers gliding over your overstimulated clit and down to your entrance. He gently pushes his finger inside, gasping at the wet warmth of your pussy squeezing him. "Ohh~ my girl, you're so wet already."

You're out of your mind with desire and pleasure as he finds the exact spot to curl his fingers against. "Shin… oh…"

"Hm? Is that good?" He adds another finger, circling your clit with his thumb and watching your every reaction. 

He fucks you with his fingers deep and slow, stretching you out in preparation, enamored with your whimpers and the way you moan his name.

Lowering his head, he takes your nipple into his mouth and laps at it with his tongue. "Are you going to cum for me again, my love?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl, I know you've got at least one more for me." 

You're damn near feral as he keeps coaxing out your pleasure, that big, warm body of his pressing you down against the mattress. Your inner muscles flutter and clench around his fingers. 

"That's it, my love. There it is. Let's get this pretty pussy all wet and ready for me." 

Your orgasm tears through you and you cry out in pure bliss as he keeps on praising you in his deep, rough voice. 

"That's my girl. Oh you look so beautiful; so ready for me. You want it now, huh?" 

All you can do is nod. He chuckles and pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth before he sucks them clean. "Mm~ I'm never going to get enough of your taste."

"Shinjuro," you moan as your hips involuntarily buck toward him. Your need surpasses all other sensation. You need to be fucked and you need it now. 

Shinjuro's lips curve into a grin. He strokes his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick essence before he presses his tip to your entrance. 

"God, you're so big," you gasp as he pushes into you. Even with all his preparation there's still a little resistance. 

"Nice and easy, little spitfire," he grunts, his brow knitting together as he slides slowly deeper. "Ohh, you feel so damn good."

He buries his cock to the hilt inside you,  leaning forward so his chest is pressed to yours and he can rest his weight on his forearms as he caresses your face and strokes your hair sweetly while grinding his hips against yours.

"Look at you, my pretty wife, taking my cock so well."

As your passion grows, his vocabulary dwindles to nothing more than grunts and gasps. He rolls his hips, aiming to hit every pleasurable spot with each slow thrust. He's patient, savoring the sensation of you as he kisses every inch of your face.

His restraint starts to fray as you rock your hips beneath him, hinting that you want more. 

Those golden eyes of his flutter shut, and his lips part around a silent gasp. "If you keep that up I'm not going to last, my love."

You kiss him, deeply, your tongue dancing slowly with his as you keep on rocking your hips. As much as you want this to last forever, you want him to feel good too. Watching him start to lose his composure is a beautiful feeling.

He groans against your mouth. "Do you want to get on top?"

"Yes." 

He rolls you over and lies back, letting you align yourself properly to ride him. Putting one arm behind his head, he reaches out with the other and touches the base of his cock, sliding up until he touches your pussy, tracing the seam where your bodies meet, with a deep, approving moan. "So perfect." 

You place your hands on his belly for balance and start to roll your hips, taking him slow and steady, rocking forward so your breasts are just a few inches from his face. 

"Ohh~" He's in bits as you ride him, his cheeks flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded.

Ever-desperate to please you, he strokes your clit with the pad of his thumb, watching the way you move like he's bound by your spell.

As your pleasure grows you start to move faster, taking him harder and deeper until you're riding him with desperate abandon. 

Your backs arch in sync as the pleasure becomes too much to bear, as waves of pleasure wash over you and you fall apart, he cries out, gasping, thrusting his hips up into you as he finishes. 

And then you collapse, fucked-out and blissful in the arms of your husband. Finally, finally after all this time.

You both lie there gasping for air, exchanging soft laughter and gentle kisses.

"I love you, wife." He pulls you to him, wrapping his strong arms around you as if he intends to protect you from the world. 

And finally you speak the words you've longed to feel since the day you married him. "I love you too."

You mean it. You truly do.

For the first time in your marriage you and Shinjuro fall asleep holding each other. And that's how you sleep every night thereafter. 

~ 

~A year later~

"YOU'RE HOME!" Senjuro is only fifteen and probably only half Kyojuro's weight, but he barrels into his older brother with enough force to knock the man flying onto his ass. The boys' loud, contagious laughter rings through the house. 

"Careful! Careful!" Shinjuro chuckles, ruffling his youngest son's hair before helping the eldest up from the ground.

"Thank you father," Kyojuro beams as he dusts off his hashira uniform and places his hand flat on Senjuro's head, measuring his height against himself and widening his eyes when he finds Senjuro is at nose-height. "Goodness! When did you get so tall?! You must stop growing. I'll be the shortest in no time."

"Then I'll call you 'little brother' instead." Senjuro grins.

A laugh shakes Shinjuro's chest as he places his hand on his eldest son's shoulder. "You may be the shortest soon but I'm still proud of you. I'm proud of you both. I have fine boys." He smiles affectionately. "How was the mission?" 

"Successful." Kyojuro lifts his chin proudly. "We prevailed, and the demon's would-be victims are safe. He won't hurt anyone again."

A moment later, Kyojuro is damn near swept off his feet a second time as his father pulls him into a tight embrace.

You can't help but smile from the doorway before heading into the kitchen. It's late spring, the air is fresh and pleasant, and everybody's home. It's as good an excuse to prepare a feast as any. 

Getting to this point took some work. There were many tears and long conversations. But in the end the family has come together and emerged from the darkness stronger. The Rengoku house is once again filled with love and laughter.

Kyojuro walks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you. He knows what you endured throughout his father's recovery, and he'll never stop showing you how grateful he is. 

"I'm so glad you're home," you say softly as you hug your stepson back. 

He pulls back and his smile is beaming. Both Kyo and Senju have their father's hair and eyes, but Kyojuro is the spitting image of Ruka; his presence just as calming and comforting as the picture on her shrine. 

"How is he?" he asks. 

"Your father?"

"No, no I can see he's well. I mean…" his eyes dart downward to your stomach. 

You laugh, "Oh, you're so certain you have a new little brother?" 

"I'm positive, there hasn't been a girl in our family as far back as records go. Could you imagine a little girl with these eyebrows??" He laughs loudly. 

There's nothing wrong with our eyebrows," Shinjuro interjects as he enters the kitchen too. "Now, if you don't mind, your stepmother and I have a feast to prepare. You and Senjuro have a lot of catching up to do, I'm sure."

Your husband rolls his sleeves over his muscular forearms and gives you a wry smile as the boys head off, chattering between themselves. 

"We all love you, you know?" he says quietly as he begins chopping vegetables. "You brought this family back from the brink, and I can never thank you enough." 

"You thank me plenty."

"It's still not enough." 

He sets down the knife and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning around to place a dozen little kisses on your cheek. 

You laugh– as you do so often these days– and kiss your husband, proud to be his and proud to love him so openly. Because Shinjuro Rengoku is a man to be proud of. 

The end

[natailiatulls07]

Stay

Lando Norris x female!reader

Summary - Everyone knew about Y/n and Landos toxic relationship, so when they broke up it was easy right?

Warning - cheating, swearing, toxic relationship and ANGST lol

A/n - 'It's okay Pt.2' is on it's way don't worry <3

Sort of based around this song

-

Anyone with a pair of eyes and common sense could see how toxic the relationship between McLaren driver, Lando Norris and model, Y/n L/n was. Espercially those close to the couple.

Each were spotted flirting with other people shamelessly. Everyone was sure that each had affairs. Yet both would return to eachothers arms the next day.

-

"Mate..." Oscar muttered. He, Lando, Carlos and Logan were all at Oscars place, hanging out when he brought up the relationship. "When are you going to end your relationship?"

The night before every formula one and non formula one gossip page had three names rolling off their tongues. Y/n L/n and Lando Norris and...

Jacob Elordi

Y/n was seen kissing and flirting with Jacob in public. Every gossip page had pictures of the kiss plastured across their feed, hundreds of headlining articles and for you pages filled. "Well actually she broke it off...last night before she went out, we're over..." Lando muttered, looking down at his beer.

Surprise captured their faces, before it was replaced with relief. "Oh I bet that was quick and easy, a mutual agreement" Carlos laughs, Oscar and Logan agreeing with him.

British driver awkwardly chuckles, remembering the night before. "Yeah...quick and easy..."

~

"Y/n come on! I said I was sorry!" His voice echos through their apartment. Lando and Y/n had gotten into yet another fight, thing is this time it felt more intense than usual.

Y/n shakes her head rapidly. "No no Lando, you fucking insinuated to the press that I'm a slut!" She was annoyed, he had just humiliated his own girlfriend to millions. "I can't do this."

All sound stopped, their heavy footsteps stopped and silence filled the space between them. Lando's expression morphed into a look of concern and worry. "What do you mean? Y/n what are you saying?"

He continues to look into her eyes, but Y/ns eyes flicker anywhere but his. Taking a deep breath. "I can't Lando" She started to shake her head. "This relationship, it...it doesn't work"

It felt like someone was stealing the air out of his lungs, Lando felt like he was been suffocated. "No Y/n, stop no" He was pleading with her.

"Maybe we should break off our relationship...it's too toxic, anyone can see it" Salty tears clouded the eyes of both. They both knew this couldn't go on but in a weird way, neither of them wanted to end it.

Lando felt himself fall to his knees. He never considered himself to be the type, but something possessed him. "Please." Eyes pleading and desperate. "Stay."

With a shaky breath and a frantic shake of her head. Y/n couldn't believe what was happening, couldn't believe how Lando was begging her to stay with him.

The driver continued. "I want you Y/n, I need you..." No longer was Y/ns eyes frantically avoiding his eyes. They were locked on eachother.

Neither had the heart to speak, both heavily weighed down with hesitation.

~

There was a laugh. "Oh my god! At least you didn't beg on your knees, that would be a low blow to your ego" Logans voice laughed. This was quickly followed by chuckles and nodding from Carlos and Oscar.

Landos fake smile fleeted slightly, his eyes dropped to the beer in his hand. "No...couldn't do that to my ego..." Chuckling softly. He felt a hand pat him on the back.

"Good lad..." Carlos' spanish loud accent filled the room above the laugh. Non of them noticing Landos slight absence from the moment.

It was Oscars turning to speak up. "Better off without her" All he got in return was a slow nod, lights on but no ones home. Was he really better off without her.

-

[writingoddess1125]

Hope you guys enjoy! Support on Ko-Fi

Part 1 <<<

They find out you had their Child pt. 2🐊 🚬🫧

Sanji, Crocodile and Law

⚠️ Warning: ⚠️ Tsundare Themes, mild Angst in one story and obsession in another. General Drama tho

Crocodile

"Crocodile you can't do that. It is not your place to keep me here and just have me as your house wife" You said offended, angry as Crocodile looked back at you with a amused smirk-

"Ssshh I got you I got you" You whispered softly. Gently rocking your son in your arms, fussy from his feeding and clearly wanting the world to hear about it.

It had been a few months since you'd given birth to your son, Kibo as Crocodile had named him. He was the light of your light and brought you more happiness then you could imagine.

Almost immediately after you'd given birth, Crocodile had taken you to his base having what was equivalent to a luxury pent house apartment set you for you.

And you'd been there since-

He would leave for a while, you assumed to whatever pirates do. But he'd return to you and Kibo always, finding it important to spend time with the two of you.

As you stood there, deep in your thoughts you didn't hear the sound of the door opening. Only falling from your daydream when a large hand hit the small of your back, snapping to see Crocodile peering down at you and the now quieting child.

"Oh hi Crocodile, Didn't exact you back already" You said softly, not wanting to get too loud and wake the baby.

"Of course- Dinner should be done soon as well and sent up. Is the lad alright?" He asked calmly, looking over his sons pink face and twisted pout.

"He's fine, Just fussy. Actually speaking of Kibo, I wanted to talk to you about something" You said rather cheerfully as Crocodile escorting you from the nursery and out to the lounge.

"I want to start working again soon anyway so a Nanny for Kibo may be nee-"

"Work? What Work?" He mused, you raising a brow at his words. His hand leaving your back as he had you take a seat.

"My Job- I have to return to work eventually"

"No you don't and no you're not" He stated calmly, you looking at him confused.

"And do tell, what are you going to do about it my love? Do you know where you are? Or even how you got here? I set everything up so you could never leave me again" He said, and it felt like ice had been injected in your veins. The Sinking feeling of realization hitting you.. this was once of the most dangerous pirates currently living, you we're without a home or income as well-

"So You are either going to stay here, play house with our son. Or I hire someone to watch over him till you come back to your senses and as you know, Im very persuasive~" He said calmly, staring down at you as you held Kibo close to your chest. The realization hitting you like a tsunami- he was going to drag you back here no matter what, When he came to your apartment that day it wasn't to just check on you.. it was the bring you back-

This wasn't love was it?..

This was obsession...

Gazing in his eyes you could see it now- Like he had found a treasure that he never intended to let go or have others risk finding. His Possessions-

Sanji

"Do you understand now mh flower?" He asked you calmly, seeing the way your eyes shifted as you thought through your options and finding non of them satisfying what your thoughts were.

A look of horror stretching over your face and Crocodile chuckled at this- Stepping towards you and kissing your forehead gently the smell of the tobacco making your eyes water a bit, or it was just tears welling.

"Sees like you do Darling" Your skin crawling at the feeling of his kiss as he stepped back and began to leave the room.

"I will return"

He said calmly, leaving you in the room as you heard Kibo start to cry in your arms as you stood there in shock-

This was your prison...

Sanji had been on cloud nine since he had found you and Sunaki. His Darling Girls- The loves of his life!

Law

The Chef of the Strawhats had been staying on your island for well over a month now. The new father wanting to soak in the joy of having his daughter- That and also spending time with you.

You weren't sure what he was trying to do, assuming you had just been a fling for him and nothing more- But you never expected to see the man trying so hard to woo you. Cooking dinners, gifts you knew he couldn't afford, the works.

That evening he invited you onto the ship, cooking you and Sunaki dinner and then helping you when the toddler inevitably got it all over herself.

The two of you sharing in the domestic bliss of bathing the squirming blonde toddler who was more interested in splashing the two of you then getting clean.

"Darling you gotta stop splashing Mommy" You giggled, Sunaki giving a loud squeal. Sanji who had his sleeves rolled up taking a cup of the warm water and carefully rinsing her blonde locks with a chuckle.

"I think that's all we're gonna get done (Y/N) without getting soaked ourselves- I'll grab a towel" He said calmly and went to steal the fluffiest towel on the ship to take the now mostly clean toddler. You grabbing some spare baby clothes Sanji kept for his time with her and a diaper.

Like a well oiled machine both of you worked to get Sunaki dressed, baby powdered, lotion on her face and ready to settle down for the night. Sanji holding her since she settled down faster in his arms-

"Thank you for dinner tonight Sanji"

Sanji smiled, a twinkle in his eyes as he held Sunaki who was hell bent on trying to use Sanji as a jungle gym.

"Of course (Y/N)"

Sanji sat before you, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and adoration as he held Sunaki in hid arms. He took a deep breath, gathering his nerves.

"So ive been thinking and Please hear me out (Y/N), but come with me. Join the Strawhats on the Thousand Sunny. I adore you, and I want you and Sunaki by my side, always-."

His words made your face warm and your heart swell at this. You searched his eyes for any hints of doubt or hesitation, but all you found was sincerity. Sunaki seeing the tension between her parents and squealing as she reached a hand up to grab some of her father's hair which she managed to dodge.

"I can't imagine having to wait two years out at sea and leave you and Sunaki behind- but it would be safer if you joined us! I swear it would be great" He insisted as he sat closer to you, Setting your daughter between the two of you.

"B-But Sanji I don't know.. I could be invading your ship and having me and some toddler on a pirate ship could be bad- Besides we aren't even together so they may not be up for-" Sanji stopped you dead in your tracks and kissed you suddently. Your face flushing as red as a tomato as you stared at him wide eyed.

"Then I'd marry you-! Your the only one I'd want to marry anyway! You gave me our daughter afterall!"

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, the weight of Sanji's words sinking deep into your being. To know that you were adored by someone as incredible.

"Really?-" You whisper out. Sanji smiking as he stood up then, Pulling you up to your feet and handing you Sunaki who was babbling randomly and excitedly at the world. Sanji rushing to Nami's room and you hear crashing and the sound of the red head screaming which drew a giggle from you-

Soon Sanji came back, a fresh black eye forming on him as he fell to his knee before you- His eyes no better then hearts at this point as he held out a beautiful gold ring out to you.

"Marry me (Y/N)- Please do me the honor of officially making me the happiest man on earth"

"We are having this talk. Now-" Law said evenly, you sighing heavily at realizing their really wasn't a way out now and didnt think arguing with him while in his little prison was in your best interest.

"Fine..." You said as you patted your hands on your clean scrubs before pushing him away from you to create some space- anxiety building in your chest. "What do you want to know?"

"Why didnt you tell me? You should have told me (Y/N)! I could have helped. Looked out for him- for all you know he"

"I am a medical physician just like you Law- I can watch for signs of the genetic illness just like you and on top of that it's not like your exactly an easy person to get ahold of" you said calmly, clearly taking some of the wind from his sails as he awkwardly stared at you for a moment.

"You're a RN not a doc-" The harsh glare shut him up quickly from saying that mistake and he backpeddled "It's just.. A boy should have his father at least and I would have helped you"

You impatiently crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Law to figure out what to say.

"In that it may be good for him to come with me its far better fo-"

"Over my Dead Body-" You said sharply, His eyes locking onto yours as he clearly thought of your words. Carefully.

"There isn't a reason for-" You cut him off again with a harsh glare.

"Just because you have regret in not being in our child's life doesn't mean you get the right to take him away from me or push your own agenda onto him and this relationship" You hiss angrily making the Doctor sigh in annoyance.

"Why are you making this so difficult? I wish to be in the child's life in my way and make sure he isn't ill. I care about you as well-"

"Dont. You. Dare! You Gave that up- So don't you DARE act like it's me who is the problem here Law. You never wanted this do you remeber?" You hissed gesturing to yourself, your anger bleeding through which made Law blink at you in surprise.

Marching forward you jabbed your finger to his chest.

"I don't do well with things long term- Those were your exact words to me, we dated for less then a month just so you could get the edge off wothout having to pay for it" His face twisted in something that could only be guilt, seeing the anger in your eyes.

"So why in hell would you think I would tell you or bother to find your ass? Hm?"

Law was silent at this, staring at your face and seeing the rage painted on it.

Tag List-

"Now release me- This conversation is done. If you want to see our kid then you have to go through the proper channels like every other deadbeat dad" You said still reeling from your anger. Law snapped his fingers and the room disapeared around the two of you- The man taking a step away from you.

"Fine... At least tell me his name (Y/N) and give me the chance. You forced me to he a so called 'deadbeat' by not telling me about him and despite what happened between us it shouldn't affect him" Law reasoned "Don't let your hatred of me deprive him of a father-"

You flinched at his words, rubbing your face as you knew this was on you- your anger making you slightly unreasonable.

"A-Ame.. His name Is Ame... and fine. You get one chance however- if you fuck up you leave us understand?" You clarify and the man gives a soft smile and nods.

@princessrabi @jisungswifie @mugiwarasoul19 @mothmomjay

@hyeon-yi @facelessfionna @stellasloth @yuriwk @ddotsie @imhenritz @natakina @zzbloody-animezz @unsuretater-simp @kenkenmaaa @mrs--imperfect @jcrml

[fandomwritingbit]

Okay last one- for now

Michael x female reader hate smut-

Michael is a straight up bully to reader, they always argue and never get along, but one night readers car breaks down confidently in front of his home- doesnt help that its raining so she is getting soaked, she tries calling her roommate but because its night they dont pick up.

Michael comes out to see whats going on and he spot her, he rolls his eyes and makes her get inside instead of staying in the cold, grumbling that he will fix it in the morning and she can sleep in his room, he even lets her have some of his clothes- but he makes her sleep on the floor, she refuses to saying its cold and after a bit of arguing he grabs her and kisses her quiet, telling her he knows a way to keep her warm if she wants

Reader consents and the rest is up to you 👀

Okay, so I’ve never written for Michael before... but I had way too much fun with this. I wrote it kind of like a comedy with smut because I get perverse enjoyment out of bullying Michael lmao. Hope it’s to your liking!  

Warnings: smut nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie god I hate that word swearing, bad car knowledge, reader and Mike are both kinda arseholes, Will cameo, a joke about a dead parent, yes ik it sounds bad, but give it a chance cos that’s funny af irl.

Driving home from the shop, you double flick the windscreen wipers as the hammering rain only gets worse. You’re already wet from the 10 seconds you spent outside, your jeans clinging uncomfortably to your legs and dampening the seat underneath you. 

Mumbling a ‘for fuck’s sake’, you turn down another residential road, still over two miles from your house, the quick nip out for fags having taken up way too much of your night. 

Its then that the worst sound possible could be heard. Your engine packing in, squealing like a stuck pig in a fence, followed by a juddering thud as you’re mercifully able to steer it up the curb outside a house, before it completely dies on you. To be honest, you’d know that this shit-raft hadn’t had long left but really, tonight? Right now? So far from home? After you’d just spent a fucking fortune fuelling up? Bleeding typical. 

You get out of the car, no umbrella or jacket to speak of and are wet to the bone before you can even get to the bonnet and peer inside. Seeing smoke depressingly coming from some part of the vehicle you couldn’t name. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Someone behind you says, emphasising the ‘you’ with disgust. Of course you turn, ready to give someone the mouthful of profanity you were saving for this limp cock of a car. You recognise the tallish, messy haired lad immediately and curse in annoyance. Fucking great: it’s Michael Afton. 

You found him such a silly ponce. And he you, a nasty prick. Having known each other since college and now finding yourself studying at the same Uni, your animosity towards each other having grown and matured into a smouldering hatred that caused arguments anytime you were in a room together. Only yesterday morning you’d given him a mouthful for how he’d acted towards you in a Costas. And so, seeing him now, you almost laughed at how this night probably couldn’t get any worse. 

“You’re really here to give me shit now?” You sigh, trying to keep a level head as he probably had a better chance of fixing this car than you. “My car’s dead as a dodo.” 

“That...” He smiles at you meanly, enjoying the sight of you soaked through and looking damn right miserable. “...is a shame.” He turns to walk up a drive into a house you assumed was his, grinning at your anguish. 

Giving him the wanker gesture behind his back, you pull out your phone, registering the sound of a front door closing, whilst your shaky, wet hands tried to dial your roommate. Eventually you succeed, but it goes straight to voicemail, their phone clearly dead or off. Leaving you stranded as your parents were out of town and no one else was local, it being summer hols and you being home from Uni. You put your hand on your head, desperately trying to find a solution to your freezing cold predicament. 

From inside his house, Michael peeked through his curtains surprised to see you still stood outside in the rain. Surely, you’d have the common sense to get back in your car or something. But no. He watched you looking like a stray cat for a few minutes before his decency took over and he goes to the door to see if you’re alright. 

“You standing there all night, y/n?” 

You laugh sharply, tears of frustration threatening to spill. “Just fucking might.” 

“You wanna come in while you wait for someone?” He says, sighing at having to spend time in the same building as you, but still feeling a shred of pity. 

“I ain’t got anyone to come get me.” You say, hands rising to an irritated shrug.

“Still wanna come in for a bit?” 

And although you’d usually rather stick a spork in your eye than sit around with Michael Afton, it beat standing here, or sitting in your car. But only narrowly. 

He leads you through his front door, showing you a bathroom and after you heavily hint, giving you some dry clothes to wear whilst your own dried on a radiator. You thank him reluctantly, going inside said toilet to put on the joggers and hoodie he’d given you. Scowling to yourself in the mirror as you can smell him on the clothes. 

You come out after promising yourself to not let him wind you round the bend. Finding your way to a kitchen, where stood leant against a counter, after nicely, he’d boiled a kettle for you. 

He hadn’t expected the movement in his trousers at seeing you in his clothes, it felt intimate and kind of sexy. And for a moment he just saw you as a good-looking lass, not the witch that had been haunting him for 4 years. 

“Thanks for the clothes and the hot drink- I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, you should. I was tempted not to invite you in.” You smile sarcastically at him, walking over to the rack of mugs you’d spotted on the counter, grabbing some kind of fancy-arse tea bag. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. My parents are out of town.” You briefly explain to him, using the mug to warm you aching hands. To which he stood silently, watching your arse in his trousers as you did so. 

“If you promise to keep your mouth shut, you can stay here.” He offers unenthusiastically.

“Why would I want to do that, Mikey?” You laugh.

“Feel free to go back out-fucking-side.” He gestures with his hand in the rough direction of the door, a very familiar sneer on his face. 

And what else could you do? Sleep in your car outside in a neighbourhood you didn’t know that well? So you agree, not hiding the look of despair the prospect gave you. Which only doubled when he told you his dad would be coming home so you’d have to sleep in his room. On the floor. Like a dog. 

~

He threw a couple of pillows on his carpet, then a paper-thin blanket, looking at you with a stupid smug expression on his stupid smug stupid fucking face.

After about 10 minutes of shivering on his floor, your back already throbbing from the lack of mattress, you grow tired of hearing the shit tik toks he was watching. 

“I can’t sleep here, this is ridiculous.” You sit up, making him jump a little at the abruptness. “What did you just shit yourself for? Forget I’m here?” You say somewhat meanly, a snicker accompanying it, standing up and cracking your neck.

“Shut up. Where are you gonna go like?” His voice takes on a cutting mocking tone, “Get in here with me?” 

You walk over to him, face a picture of annoyance. “That what you want Mike? Me to get in fucking bed with you?” You laugh, bringing you head down to his level as he was sat. “To think, all this time I thought you were a cunt to me because you hated me. When really you just want to fuck me.” Shaking your head, you point a finger at him, “God that’s fucking pathe-” 

Your further insults are cut short when he grabs you and kisses you harshly on the mouth, the only thing he could think to do to get you to shut the fuck up for once. And you’ll admit, you respected the bollocks on him for it.

Maybe it was the frustration of the night’s events. Maybe it was built up hate between the two of you boiling over. Neither of you are sure. But you let him pull you on to his lap, kissing him back, tongues and hands quickly becoming involved.  

You feel the urge to call him names when you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. But you stifle it, grabbing his hand to make him take his hoodie off your frame, not having to tell him to do the rest because he did so quickly. Rushing to unhook your bra and palm your tits, whilst you pull up his shirt, then down his trousers to gain access to his cock. 

There was no finesse to it, just hurried grabbing and heated biting of lips of necks. Both of you wanting to assert some level of dominance and fuck each other before it dawned on you that you hate one another. And so, it wasn’t long before he yanked you forward to pull his joggers down and your knickers aside, his thick cock spreading you open as sit atop him. It surprised you how good it felt to have him thrusting up into you, whilst your hips rolled fuelled by dislike and desperate to cum almost immediately. 

You did when he pushed you back, making you lay backwards before climbing on top of you and shoving himself back inside you. The new angle more than welcome, making you grunt as your orgasm neared. Hitting you hard as a freight train when his pace doubled to selfishly chase his own release, which due to the tight fluttering of your walls was closer than he realised. 

“Oh fuck.” He spat, pressing you flat into his bed as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist eager for more of his hammering pace. “That's it. Shi- God you feel fucking good.” You had it in you to laugh then, his whiney voice cracking as he neared his end enough to make you smirk. Though it was wiped from your face when his thrust faltered and stuttered as he came inside you, seemingly unbothered about the consequences. 

Though in that moment you didn’t think about that either, too focused on the feeling of his release inside you. 

It wasn’t the last time you’d be experiencing that tonight. 

~

The morning quickly rolled around, and you slip out of Michael's bed to go and get something to drink, more than thirsty after last night. Bare feet pattering on wooden floorboards, you struggle to find his kitchen again as the house was unfamiliar. Eventually you get there and with your now dry clothes in hand you sit down with a much-needed glass of water. 

You weren’t sat long when you register the sound of footsteps descending stairs, a prickle of dread as you thought it might be Michael. 

"Who the fuck are you?" A gruff voice makes you turn your head towards the door of the kitchen, where a bloke you'd never seen before stood.

"Could ask the same for you." You raise an eyebrow at his curtness. "I'm Michael's... mate." You half-arse explain. The man leans on the doorframe a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he walked into the room smirking and started messing about with a coffee machine.

"What's funny about that?" You ask looking at him, there was resemblance between the two, but Mike would look 10 years younger stood next to his dad. 

"Nothing." He looks you up and down. "Credit to him: you're alright." He answers through a smirk aimed at you. You just laugh, turning your attention to your phone. Not noticing when Mike came to find you.

Glancing up at him you give a nod of acknowledgement before going back to your scrolling. Completely missing when his father gestures towards you with his head, mouthing the word 'respect' to his son, who looked mortified.

"Stop being a dick, pa." Michael snapped. You look up to see what was going on, catching Mr Afton looking away from you with a laugh. And give Michael a raised brow smile, whilst his dad leaves the room, not without another glance in your direction.

"What are you grinning at?" His tone reaks of irritation. Only growing when you point to the empty door saying,

"THAT explains so much." Through a teasing laugh.

"Fuck off."

"I'm trying to, but there isn't a bus for half an hour. And my car is fucked, remember?" He rolled his eyes, going to the coffee machine himself and mumbling when asking you if you wanted some. You did and told him as such.

"Ay, thanks." You say as he sets it down in front of you. Having the curtesy to sit with you while you wait, lest his dad hear his footsteps and sneak in like a fox in a chicken coup.

"You alright?" You ask him, unused to the sensation of being pleasant with each other and so rejecting it, poking him in the ribs.

"Can you be quiet for like 5 fucking seconds?" Each word is near hissed at you.

"What kind of scene would this be, if I was?" You roll your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Laughing as you thought of another way to piss him off. "You're one to talk anyway, with all the ‘talking’ you did last night." He turns to your words, face a clear warning.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck. That's it. Like that. Shi- God you feel fucking good-" You mock moan, accompanying it with a lewd gesture that made him look over his shoulder to check his dad hadn’t returned.

"Shut the fuck up!" He rises, "like you didn't have a good time." He says through a face of disgust. You continue giggling, loving how easy it was to wind him up.

"Practically drooling over my cock, like a dirty bitch." You just laugh again; he couldn’t even touch your feelings with that shit.  

Letting silence fall over the two of you, you go back to your phone, giving him a smidge of respite. But he throws it back in your face after a mere two minutes.

"Will you stop tapping your foot, its driving me fucking nuts." And there's your green light to go at him again.

"You're a prick sometimes, Mike." You say, shaking your head. "But your dad- oh, no. He's really hot. Like scary, but scary sexy you get me?"

"Yeah... so's your mam." He snaps, his cheeks red. Instantly looking down when Mr Afton pops back in for something, unsure if you'll continue prodding and dreading if you did.

"Uhhh... my mam is dead, really funny there, mate." You say, your face falling still, and voice cracking on the last part. His whole demeanour changes, as does his father who stands like he's at attention in front of the squadron leader, both as tense as a spring.

"Oh shit, really? I'm sorry I-" He starts, panic flooding his face as he thought you were going to cry.

You laugh out of nowhere, "No. she isn't, Mike. But your fucking face." Mr Afton laughs from across the room, coming over to see the fallout that was about to occur, seeing the indignation on his son’s face and being unable to pity him.

"Ah you've got to bring this one back, Michael. She's fucking class." He says, grinning like a wolf. Mike scowls, despising you even more for ribbing on him with his own fucking dad.

"I should kick you the fuck out." He says exasperated, filled with dislike for you again. Sitting back down but not looking at you.

"Uh.” Mr Afton interjects. “You are not kicking my future daughter-in-law out of this house." You smirk, surprisingly feeling a tickle of guilt at being such a cock to him. 

But you have a feeling that you'll make it up to him later.

[iblameashley]

Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Civilian | Male | Gay

3,800~ words

Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.

Follow up to Something to look forward to

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.

Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.

So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.

And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.

“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.

“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.

Price was having none of it.

“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”

Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.

You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.

“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”

“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”

You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.

“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.

An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.

“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.

With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.

“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”

“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Day 4

Its been four days. Four.

You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.

“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.

“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.

You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.

“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.

“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.

You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.

“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.

You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.

“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.

“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.

“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.

By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.

“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.

“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.

Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.

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Day 10

You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.

There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.

“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.

“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.

Then again.

And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.

“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.

You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.

Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.

You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.

“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.

Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.

“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”

There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.

“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.

“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.

You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.

“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.

Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.

The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.

“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”

There is was. You rolled your eyes.

“You're tolerable.” You shurg.

Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.

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Day 21

You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.

CRASH!

Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.

“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.

You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!

“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.

You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.

Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.

Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.

You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.

“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.

As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.

You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.

He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.

He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.

“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.

You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.

Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.

“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.

“'M fine.” He grumbles.

Liar.

“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.

You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.

“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.

“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.

You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.

“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.

“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.

Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

You don't look away from your phone.

“Don't have to.” You reply.

“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.

You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.

“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.

“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.

You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.

“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.

“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.

“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.

You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.

“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.

“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”

“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”

That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.

“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.

“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.

“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.

“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.

You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.

After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.

You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.

He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.

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Day 30

Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.

Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.

As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.

“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.

Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.

He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.

“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.

“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.

You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.

“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.

Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.

“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."

Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.

You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.

This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.

“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.

You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.

Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.

“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.

You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.

Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.

Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?

You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.

“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.

“'S fine.” Simon nodded.

As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.

“How about tonight?” He asked.

You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.

He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.

“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”

“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”

You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.

Staying another night.

With Simon.

You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.

[esmedelacroix]

20 days til' Christmas

militaryhusband!ghost makes snow angels with your son ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

cw: angsty(sorry got a bit carried away)

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It became a tradition for Simon to make snow angels with your son every Christmas Eve so Santa could know that everyone in the house was nice and not naughty.

"Come on mate, it's time to make our snow angels, gotta let the fat man know we've been good this year," Simon said as he helped your son Edward get his coat on.

You had a sensitivity to cold so you stayed inside. You watched the two of them from the windowsill in your living room. You watched as your husband held your son's hand throughout the whole walk to the backyard.

Watching Simon be so soft with his son was an endearing sight for you to see. He may be a military man, and one the most brutal people on the frontlines, but the fact that he can be gentle with his son, warmed your heart.

You could almost hear their laughter as if you were outside with them. As Simon lay in the snow, Edward followed. They began to flap their arms and legs like they were little birds. It was always cute to watch them do this every year. They got up and looked at their work and high-fived before running back into the house.

"Mama, we did it!" your son exclaimed running over to you, boots still on leaving a trail of water and dirt in his wake. Simon shook his head at Edwards's mess and took his stuff off before returning with a mop in hand.

You helped Edward take his snow gear off while Simon cleaned up the mess he had made before joining the two of you on the couch. "Alright little lad, you have got to remember to take your dirty boots off before you walk into the house after playing in the snow," Simon sighed as he got Edward on his lap and hit him with a tickle attack. You joined in the tickling until Edward started to tickle back.

You were all out of breath recovering from all the laughing you had been doing. "Okay, okay, I'll take my boots off next time," Edward breathed out.

"Thank you, young mister," you said, patting his head.

"Did you see our snow angels love? They're perfect this year," Simon asked, nudging Edward's arm.

"Yeah they're so cute, Edward's looks like an ant next to yours," you giggled.

"Yeah papa is huge, and he has big muscles, I want to be just like him," Edward geeked.

Simon looked down at his son, the only emotion playing on his face was love.

"Dad is pretty awesome isn't he?" you asked, running your fingers through Edward's hair.

"Yeah, he protects the country and he protects us," Edward boasted.

You looked up at Simon smiling at him ear to ear. Simon then kissed Edward on his temple. "I'm glad you think so highly of you old man," he replied.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch together with Edward in between the two of you bathing and marinating in the pure feeling of domestic bliss.

. . .

The next morning you woke up feeling a strange coldness creeping up on you. That's when you realized he was gone. Not gone like not in bed gone like he wasn't home. You prayed that he had just gone to the supermarket to get something.

You prayed that when you walked down the stairs you wouldn't see a letter from him and the government saying that he had been called back. You had seen it happen to friends and family, but luckily it had never happened to you.

The first place you thought to check was Edward's room. It wasn't a rare occurrence for Simon to be in there playing with him, watching him rest, or sleeping in there with him after he came to your room and told the two of you that he had a nightmare.

When you entered the room Edward was sound asleep, and Simon was nowhere in sight. Maybe I'm just overreacting. You thought to yourself as you closed his door quietly.

You went down to the kitchen, there was no one there either. Maybe he just went to the supermarket. You thought to yourself as you walked over to the living room. You sat down on the couch letting out a long sigh before feeling something under you. You felt paper under you.

You raised your bum slowly from the cushion of the couch and retrieved a piece of paper. It was a letter. You immediately put it down refusing to believe what it meant. Your hands and legs began to shake rapidly and tears stung your eyes. You shook your head frantically as the tears began to drip onto your lap.

You felt like there was a bolder sitting on your chest. You gripped the throw blanket sitting on the couch until your knuckles felt like they were going to shatter.

You took a deep breath and picked up the letter. You unfolded it to see Simon's fourth-grade-level handwriting. You chuckled to yourself thinking of the times you would always tease him about it. The letter read:

My love, my life, my whole world,

I couldn't bring myself to wake the two of you up. You just looked so peaceful. They called me at 4:00 in the morning, but you're too much of a heavy sleeper and you didn't hear it. I don't have a lot of time to write this letter to you but I love you. I hate that I have to leave you and our little one. Things are really rough on the frontlines. I was supposed to be off for six more months but there is a huge emergency. As you know sweetheart, my job isn't easy. I'm practically greeted with death every day. I know I'm not very good with words but if death does decide to take my hand, I'll hold you with my other. I love you more than anything. I'm going to miss you two so much. Don't forget to tell my boy I love him, and I will be back in no time. Say I love you every day. And Christ baby, stay warm, please. I know how easily you get sick when you're cold. I know you hate it when I'm not around, and you always wish I was home and that there were no wars or conflicts in the world so I could always be by your side but I can't. I hate that I can't change that. I love you, baby. Visit me in my dreams and I'll visit you in yours. I love you endlessly, I'll be home with you soon.

. . .

It was a heartbreaking Christmas for both you and Edward. You wrote him every single day and he would write back when he had the time. You and Edward sent him care packages and even celebrated his birthday and filmed it for him to watch when he came back.

This became a habit for the two of you. You filmed Edward's school concerts, his birthday, his first soccer game, his wrestling matches, and so many more core memories.

The year went by like lightning and it was Christmas Eve once again. "Ma, I'm going to go make the snow angel for Santa Claus!" Edward exclaimed.

You watched him waddle out onto the snow tripping over constantly because he didn't have his dad's hand to hold. He plopped himself down on the snow and began to flap his arms and legs around. He got up and admired his work before quickly waddling back inside. As always he ran straight to you forgetting to take his dirty boots off before joining you at the living room windowsill. "My snow angel looks great!" Edward exclaimed.

"Yep, Santa's definitely going to bring us gifts now," you reassured as you helped Edward get his snow gear off.

It felt incomplete looking out at the snow angel not seeing a giant one next to your son's smaller one. It didn't help that you didn't receive a letter from Simon in December at all.

Months after Christmas Simon still wasn't home. It had been a little over a year since he had left and you missed him every single day. You hadn't received a letter from him since November and you weren't too worried because it was normal but you couldn't shake this feeling that something was wrong.

Those worries were confirmed when you heard a knock on your door the next day. You opened the door to see Captain Price, a man who worked closely with Simon. In his hand lay a folded British flag with Simon's dog tag that he wore all the time. "We regret to report to you that your husband Simon Riley has been reported missing in action, only his dog tag could be found in his trail," Price started.

You couldn't even stand to listen to the rest of what he had to say. You fell to your knees with your face in your hands and began to wail. Your son quickly came to your side placing a hand on your shoulder. "What's the matter, mum? Are these guys being mean?" he asked innocently. All you could bring yourself to do was hug him tight.

That night you explained the situation to your son in the least frightening way possible. To your surprise, he received the information much better than you did. "Daddy is missing in action, he's not killed in action. That means he's still alive and he is coming home soon. We have nothing to worry about Mum," Edward reassured as he hugged you.

"You're right, love, your Daddy's so strong," you said as rubbed his back.

He was saying wise things but you knew Edward was just as scared for Simon as you were.

You received updates from their search for Simon. They say that there is a chance that they may be able to find him but not to get your hopes up.

. . .

Months passed by like they were just hours. As soon as you knew it it was Christmas Eve once again. It had been two years without Simon. You woke up and Edward had already gone outside to make his snow angel. The back door swung open and Edward ran in, boots not off making a huge mess of the ground as always.

You smiled to yourself thinking about how Simon would've hit him with a tickle attack for forgetting to take his boots off again. You gave him a big hug. "Your snow angel looks beautiful Eddie," you said, patting his head.

"Thanks, Mum," he said as he started to scarf down the breakfast you made while he was outside. The two of you watched Christmas movies all afternoon. You got up to get more popcorn and to wash your hands. As you lathered your hands you saw something strange in the window. You ran to the living room windowsill to get a better look. Next to Edward's snow angel was an even bigger one. Like the one that Simon used to make with him.

You were convinced that you were going crazy but you didn't care you had to get a better look. without thinking you ran straight outside with only your pajamas on. You saw it right in front of you, you put your hand out and touched the indent in the snow. "Hon' what'd I tell ya' about going outside without a coat on?" you heard a deep raspy voice say behind you.

You immediately looked behind you to see Simon there leaning against the door. You hadn't even seen him when you ran outside. You sprinted to him and immediately hugged him tight. "Come let's get you inside," he said as he dragged you indoors.

"Simon! What, how- when?" you stuttered. Your thoughts were running wild, you couldn't even get a proper sentence out.

"Surprise Mum!" Edward said, joining in on the hug.

"You knew??" you questioned shocked.

"Papa got here this morning when I went outside. He was there, but he said that he wanted to surprise you," Edward explained.

You playfully hit Simon's chest. "You boys are going to be the death of me," you scolded, pinching Edward's cheek.

"I missed you too love," Simon said as he planted a kiss on your temple.

"Feels great to be home," you said. You may have been in your house but home was always in Simon's arms.

This Christmas was one of the best because you watched the film you made for Simon documenting your lives without him. Santa saw two snow angels and brought extra gifts this year. And finally, you took a week off of work because you had gotten a cold from the two seconds you spent outside and you had your boys taking care of you.

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taglist:

@aripet22

[emperor-palpaminty]

Possessive HCs

Minors DNI, must have age in bio to interact or else ya get blocked. TW for possessive kink and all that jazz. i am unhinged and have no train of thought that makes sense. Also my inbox is open for requests hehe

(This post features Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro with anGN reader)

Price

LAWDY this man gives me possessive vibes. He's a captain after all, he's used to having his way and people respect his property.

And you are, after all, his... Right?

Price doesn't get the appeal of hickies at first. They seem immature, silly even, and he thinks they're more trouble than they're worth. And then he sees you with one that he gave you the day before.

Totally changes everything.

He'll cover you in hickies if he can, where where your flesh is soft enough. If your job is more "professional" and would frown upon it he would make sure to leave some just where the corners of a bruise is peeking out from under the collar of your shirt, just so people can still know you're his.

If someone comes up to flirt with you, he makes sure he winds an arm around you and maintains eye contact with the intrusive party until they get the hint and leave. He's the kind of guy who would stare the flirter in the face while kissing your neck, or up your arm, and he would carry the conversation on calmly.

Casually refers to you as "my girl/lad/love", "pretty thing", etc. Just as long as it's obvious you're his.

Ghost

In my brain, he's the most possessive but because he wants to stay as anon as possible, he doesn't get super grabby or touchy in public. The second you get behind closed doors however? Hooooo mama.

He marks you up good. Scratches, hickies, everything. Even if they aren't visible to others it is enough to remind you and that's enough for him. He is fine with getting some of his own too, but he prefers they stay somewhat hidden. Part of him wants to make sure you're as safe as possible, and that includes not letting the enemy know he's getting hickies from someone.

If someone comes up to flirt with you, I can see Simon standing nearby- but always staring down the person seeking your affections. You are polite to them but tell them you aren't interested, and if they press on that's when Simon comes over. He's probably thrown a guy through a window before TBH. After that he takes you home and treats you real good ;P

Soap

Yeah. yeah. yeaaaaahhhhhhh. This man is loud as hell and has a short ass temper when it comes to you. When others come up to you or are even looking your way, he grabs your waist or hand or pulls you close. He has one hundred percent given you a hickey in the middle of a crowded room (club? bar? who knows?) just because he saw a couple of folks looking your way with eyes that lingered too long. If someone tries to flirt, he is not shy at all about speaking up or pulling you behind him ("Sorry, this one's taken, lad. Go find someone else for the night.")

He will also mark you up too with all the hickies and scratches but he loves when you do the same to him. Honestly, the more hickies the better. If you give him any, he WILL walk around shirtless just to show them off. (Price scolds you for quote, "defacing government property")

Gaz

In my head Gaz isn't like. super kinky. He just seems so sweet in the games. I could be totally wrong though and he could be a kinky bastard (drop your Gaz HCs). But this is MY HEAD, welcome to the terror dome.

Yeah, Gaz isn't super possessive in a kinky way, but he does like when people know you're together. He'll slip an arm around you, or put his hand in yours. At one point as a joke you got a shirt printed with his face on it that said "Gaz's Guy/Gal" and he thought it was the funniest thing ever.

If someone comes up to flirt with you he's pretty quick to intervene. He will slip between you and the person and try to redirect them away- but if it comes down to it, he will knock a guy out for flirting with his partner despite a plethora of rejections and "no"s.

Alejandro

Alejandro is PASSIONATE deadass, and doesn't give a shit about who is watching. He'll pick up your hands and kiss them any time any where, or hold your face, or he will just stare into your eyes from across the room. The tension is palpable, you can palp it.

When it comes to showing you off or being possessive, he's more defensive. He will stand between you and the person coming to flirt with you and square up, just to remind them that this is not their place or purpose.

Afterward, he of course kisses you and makes love to you rather intensely ("Amor de mi vida, no one can do this to you, and even if they were lucky enough they wouldn't do this like I do"). And no matter what, you wouldn't let anyone else do that to you, because it's true- no one could do this (or you) like he can. Also he's vocal- he lets the both of you be heard if he's enjoying himself and he wants everyone to know that those sounds from your mouth were because of him.

[nikolaiismysugardaddy]

Hi! can i request nikolai, dazai and tecchou when their s/o trips infront of them?

OHMYGOD MY FAV BOYS AHAHAHAHAHH SURE!! (and thank you for the request!!! I truly deeply madly appreciate it! ♡)

Tripping in front of them - headcanons

pairings... gn!reader x Dazai, Nikolai, Tetchou

fluff! - short scenarios

I apologize for any mistakes in advance - english is not my first language!

Hope you enjoy! xx

Dazai Osamu

Dazai would take every chance to flirt with you. Even when you scratch your limbs on the concrete. Not-so-secretly he finds it very cute when you're clumsy around him.

It was a long day at the ADA; you had to stay overtime in the office until late at night. Dazai accompanied you until you finished all the paperwork and insisted on walking you home. 

“But I live near the office, it’s gonna be fine on my own, Dazai!” You mentioned when he accompanied you in the opposite direction where he lived. 

“I can’t let a pretty lad’ walk alone at night!” he laughed your independence off. “And even though Yokohama is really pretty at night, it is also very dangerous. So! It’s my pleasure to walk my precious colleague home under the moonlight.”

You sighed, but a warm smile appeared in the corner of your mouth. You were walking in peaceful silence next to each other. The moon was so bright, you couldn’t help but stare at it. A few meters later, you stepped on your own shoelace, and in the blink of an eye, you faced the ground very closely. 

“Y/N!” After you heard Dazai loudly say your name, you felt your knees and elbows burning from pain. 

“Ouch, ouch, ouch.” you hissed. Dazai was on his knees beside you, helping you sit up. 

“Oh my, belladonna! I know I’m handsome, but you shouldn’t take falling for me so literally.” He leaned in close to get a good, clear look at your scars. “And also inviting me over this way, very cunning…” 

“What are you talking about?” Suddenly, he lifted you up bridal-style in his arms and continued walking to your home.

Nikolai Gogol

Nikolai is really careful around you - especially when you're not sober. Of course, he jokes around a lot and all, but he won't risk hurting you. Not on purpose at least. Mostly he tries to keep you safe when you're around him.

“I can walk on my own, Kolya! I only drank two beers!” You tried to avoid the fact that you hadn’t eaten all day - so alcohol was like the hammer to the head of a nail. “Okay, then what about a quiz?” his hands were under his cloak, and suddenly a gentle hand tugged your hair behind your ear. You tried to keep it cool and rolled your eyes, but your face couldn't lie - it turned a light shade of pink from the gentle movement. 

“Mhmm, mmhmm, lemme hear it.” You mumbled while concentrating hard on your footsteps.

“That’s the spirit, dove! Okay, so tell me, what is something that always runs but never stops?” he eagerly looked at you; his shoulders almost touching yours. 

You were thinking hard, humming to yourself. “The train? Mmm, no-no, it stops at the stations.. hmm… hmm… the rain? No, no, it usually stops sooner or later…” 

He giggled while looking at your thoughtful face; Nikolai found it pretty attractive how seriously you took his question. You were so deep in your thoughts that you accidentally tripped on an outstanding cobblestone. The next moment you opened your eyes, strong arms were wrapped around your whole body, and your face was buried in Nikolai’s chest. 

His heartbeat was loud and fast. “Heart.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“Huh?” Nikolai loosened his arms a bit to look at your face. 

“Heart. I said, the answer is heart.” You felt your face heat up from this unexpected intimacy. The confusion and worry disappeared from Nikolai’s face and were replaced with a tender smile.

“Correct, doll, correct.” 

Tetchou Suehiro

Tetchou is as clumsy as you. But hey, at least he tried! From the bottom of his heart, he wanted to protect you from falling, at least. Maybe he was just too hungry to think properly.

“I can’t believe we’ve gotten lost…” You let out a long sigh and tip-toed to the sky, trying to get signal to check your GPS. “Furthermore, we’re in the middle of nowhere...” 

“I told you I could cut those trees—” Tecchou placed his hand on his sword, hoping you changed your mind. 

“No! No damage to the forest!” You shook your head in disbelief; even the thought of doing something so brutal to these trees made you pissed. 

“Okay, okay, just an idea if you’ll get bored or hungry or both.” The very same moment he finished the sentence, his stomach growled loudly.

You suddenly turned in his direction and wanted to scold him, but your feet got stuck in something and you tripped. You already saw your destiny in your mind: landing among the leaves and twigs on the ground. Instead of this unpleasant scenario, when you opened your eyes, your face was lying on a muscular chest. You glanced up and saw Tetchou looking at you, worried as hell. His uniform hat was somewhere beside your body. 

“Huh?” Suddenly, you realized what position you are in with him right now. A rosy blush spread along your cheeks. 

“Sorry, I… I wanted to catch you, but… my feet got stuck in something…” He scratched his head in embarrassment. You both lay there for a few more moments before he helped you stand up. 

A yellow leaf was hanging from Tetchou’s messed up hair. “Hey.” You placed his hat back on his head and took the leaf out at the same time. “Thank you.” 

Aaaah it was so fun to write! Thanks a lot again for this request! ♡