#indulgent headcanons

[zephyrchama]

"Welcome back, it's been a while."

After a long time has passed, how might the Obey Me! demons welcome you home with a hug?

---

Lucifer tries to approach you in a calm and collected manner, but that facade easily crumbles as he gets closer. His pace quickens and his expression melts into an inscrutable blend of emotion. The man is fighting to stay composed.

He pulls you towards him, unwilling to wait a moment longer to have you in his arms. His gloved hands wrap around your back and waist with a secure grip. Your toes brush the ground as his hug lifts you to eye level, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Welcome back, I've missed you."

---

Mammon sprints up with the goofiest grin imaginable plastered on his face. He catches himself at the last moment though, grinding to a halt as a blush creeps over his ears. He wants to be cool. "You sure are a piece a work to keep The Great Mammon waiting."

His arrogant act is betrayed by the many glances in your direction. By the way he's clenching his fist so hard his knuckles are white, and by the way he immediately crumbles into your open arms the second you reach out. He throws his arms around your shoulders and digs his face into your neck. He grips the back of your top a little too hard, as if you might leave again any moment.

---

Leviathan sheds his insecurities and doubts, all negative emotions, just to be able to bask in your presence again. It's a moment he's looked forward to for weeks. He puts trust into the belief that you've also been looking forward to seeing him.

He wraps his arms and legs around you, unconsciously aiming to get as much skin contact as possible. "I've really missed you, you know!?" he half-shouts before burying his face in your shoulder. You fight to stay standing upright. Every little movement, every minor adjustment in posture you make causes Leviathan to snuggle closer until you can't tell where your limbs end and his begin.

---

Satan can't control all of the overwhelming emotions that hit him at once. He grabs hold of your hand, and with a palm on your back he pulls you close until your entire weight leans against him. At your touch, all he can do is smile.

"Glad to see you again." The two of you sway back and forth, turning your hug into a psuedo-Waltz. When you look into his eyes, Satan gives your hand a kiss and presses your intertwined fingers against his face.

---

Asmodeus laughs as he barrels into you. "Did you miss me? Of course you did!"

You stumble back several steps yet he catches you before you fall, latching onto your side like a matching puzzle piece. He rubs his cheek over your head, pausing every few seconds to give you a kiss as his free hand enthusiastically traces its way up your back.

Asmodeus is the most reluctant to let go. Making a mess of your hair and clothes only gives him a calculated opportunity to touch you more as he tidies up your appearance. His caress lingers over your collarbone and around your ear. His fingers brush against your mouth, which he then brings to his own lips.

---

Beelzebub falls to his knees, relieved to see you return safe and sound and glad to be by your side once more. His arms curl around your hips. He noses his face into your chest and looks up with a content smile as he greets you, "welcome back."

You lean over to return the hug, running your hands through his hair. You don't expect Beelzebub to stand, picking you up in the process. You steady yourself on his shoulders as he rises, his violet eyes not wavering from you for a second, tempting him to steal a kiss.

---

Belphegor wraps his arms around your shoulders and practically falls on you. He doesn't seem concerned that you're sinking to the ground. In fact, he's so preoccupied with cuddling up to you that there's no way to avoid sitting on the ground with this demon on top of you.

He curls his body around your legs. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he slowly exhales, "welcome back." He's awake, but nothing will stop him from pretending to be asleep as his grip strength loosens and his face trails down your body.

---

Diavolo laughs amicably as you approach. He wants you to come to him, and is so thrilled to have you back. He bends down to latch his arms under yours and swings you around, sweeping you off your feet as you twirl two, three times, then slow to a stop.

"How have you been?" In due time he wants to know everything, and hear all the stories of your time away in detail. For now, he's got you locked in a bear hug. You feel his lips brush over your hair as he lightly swings you back and forth.

---

Barbatos' hug is the most restrained. It's simple and polite. At first he was content to just greet you with a gentle handshake and loving gaze. Though, when you request a hug, there is no way he can say no.

He extends his arms around your back, gives you two soft pats, and hesitates for just a moment before letting you go.

At night that evening as you prepare for bed, you find a note in your pocket that Barbatos must have cunningly slipped in without anyone noticing. It's a detailed letter with everything he didn't get to tell you in person.

[musouie]

convinced that könig is the epitome of a “malewife”

he’ll get up at the crack of dawn to make you breakfast, something new every day, and give you a sloppy kiss before you’re out the door and off to work.

and while you’re out: he’ll sweep the floors, polish the countertops, even rearrange the pantry if it seems too cluttered and disorganised (by colour on the days that feel long), until he feels you’ll be satisfied.

he then lounges around, switches through television programmes or flips through a book he’s neglected since the day before. but when he grows especially restless, he settles instead for waiting by the door like some needy house-pet (which is fitting, isn’t it?)

and in the evening, if you return noticeably stressed, he’ll help you shed your coat, usher you to the sofa with a massive hand on your back, and listen attentively as you confide all your worries to him as he massages the supple flesh of your inner thigh.

and if that doesn’t work — if that stubborn crease between your brow has yet to ease — he’ll bury his head between your legs and eat you out so tenderly until you forget why you were tense in the first place.

he’ll lick eager stripes against your cunt, suckle on your clit, and lap up all the slick that drips from your hole and smears over his chin. he’ll do it all, until his jaw aches and his tongue is numb and his lips are swollen, and you’re a whimpering mess, fingers knotted in his hair and thighs trembling as they cage his head.

and when you’re done, and you’ve ridden out the last of your orgasm, he’ll swallow the cum in his mouth, wipe his lips, and smile as he asks you, “is that better, liebling?”

(he’ll ignore your whines and acknowledgements of his arousal-stained trousers, insisting that he derives pleasure from your satedness)

masterlist <3

[raconteur-wanpi]

When you start relating too much to a fictional character it's your god given right to project all your issues + transgenderism on them.

It's good for them. And you. It doesn't have to make sense.

[kittycandles]

Thinking about Simon n Spoiled!reader 🤤

After Simon Riley entered your life, you never put on your own shoes again.

How could you after he spoiled you rotten?

He knew the drill, whenever you got all dolled up ,only leaving out your shoes. You'd sit on the couch or bed and look to him for help. You'd rest the sole of your foot against his abs while he put the shoe on the other foot, fastening it. He'd grab your other foot, swooping down to kiss your ankle before slipping your shoe on.

"There we go, Lovie."

He'd huff, patting your legs to signal he was finished. You'd tug his shirt collar,bringing him close to you, tenderly kissing his scarred and stubbled face that contrasted against your soft plump lips.

"Thank you, Si."

"Of course ,doll."

[floweypilled]

PLURPYRUS! =D

[lucabyte]

Different standards

[mrs-kodzuken]

ceo's p.a. ⟢ kenma. k

warnings: personal assistant!reader, sexual content (blow job male!receiving, deep throating [more like face-fucking], making out, spit, fingering f!receiving, orgasm denial, top!kenma, bottom!reader) possible buddings of a future situationship, barely fluff and mostly horny, head canons lead into a small fic

*mdni*

CEO!Kenma who hired you solely because of your resume skills and not because of the way you look, that was just a plus

CEO!Kenma who finds himself drawn to you, the way your professional clothes hug your body, your reading glasses, even how you do your make up, he’s drawn to it

CEO!Kenma who doesn’t act on his feelings, not wanting to lose a valuable employee nor wanting to go against the own rules he set as the boss

CEO!Kenma who uses your behavior at the next meeting to go off on a few employees who “could stand to be a bit more obedient like my assistant”

CEO!Kenma whose words ignite a fire inside of you, making you press your thighs together in the middle of the meeting, holding your head down, hands clutching the clipboard for notes and face flushed because of your boss

CEO!Kenma who can’t get out of your mind, ever since that meeting, you’re thinking of him, dreaming of him, wanting him, seeing him in a new light

CEO!Kenma who wears the most expensive business suits to work on important days, knowing what it does to his favorite assistant, he’s too observant for you to not realize he knows the effect he has on you

CEO!Kenma who continues to request weirdly specific and slightly sexual things to purposely make you flush because he loves the sight of your embarrassed face

CEO!Kenma who requests for you to grab the staples he dropped trying to put them in the stapler on his desk, and his reason for asking you to? his neck hurt from sleeping weird

CEO!Kenma who waits patiently for you with a smirk on his face so you can do what he asks like the obedient girl you are, and you would have no trouble with it if the staples didn’t purposely fall in between his legs

CEO!Kenma who states, “you look good at this angle” as you’re on your knees looking up at him with a flushed face, you hurried to grab the staples and after that day you made sure they were always filled

CEO!Kenma who corners you one day after work, you had stayed late to organize your work load for the next few days, and Kenma decided to trap you and ask a few questions

CEO!Kenma who asks you, “I’ll give you a bonus if you want to be my good girl for tonight?” you were completely shocked but couldn’t deny the sexual feelings you got from him

CEO!Kenma who sets you down between his legs and tells you to take out his cock and suck it like a good girl

CEO!Kenma who helped guide his own cock into your warm, wet mouth teaching you how to properly make him feel good

CEO!Kenma who groans out how much of a good, obedient girl you’re being, “make me cum and i’ll reward you, pretty” and that only gets you fired up as you try to deep throat his entire length, you started gagging when it hits the back of your throat

CEO!Kenma who mumbled out a quick, “fuck, sorry” before slamming his entire cock into your throat, your eyes immediately welling up with tears as you choked

CEO!Kenma who came down your throat as you struggled to breathe but couldn’t ignore the delicious feeling of helplessness you got from it, it turning you on

CEO!Kenma who looks down at you with lidded eyes and then opens your drool covered mouth with his thumb to spit into it, he loved the sight of your tear ridden face, especially when it was because of him

You unintentionally swallowed the saliva that your boss spit into your mouth. It was a reflex you didn’t know you had till now. Gazing up at him, you just knew your make up was running every where, you probably looked a mess.

Kenma smirked, “It’s time for your reward, pretty.” He patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on to his lap.

You ignored the burning in your throat and nose as you did what he asked, anything to soothe the burning desire from your core. You needed something, anything to help fill the aching desire of need.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He lowly asked in your ear as you fell into his lap, legs over his hips. You nodded into his shoulder, lust not clearing your eyes anymore and the realization that you’re doing this with your boss coming back.

“No, come on. I need to hear you say it, doll.” He gave a warning slap to your ass, igniting a yelp out of you.

“Ah—yes. I want you to make me feel good, please.” You begged him, hands tightening on his shoulders. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, his watchful, piercing eyes.

You felt delicate hands push up your pencil skirt and tug your panties to the side. Your hole clenched around nothing as you felt the tips of his fingers run across your heat. He was teasing you now.

You waited impatiently as he circled his fingers around your clit without touching it, making you whine in need. The tips of his fingers playing with every part of your cunt except the parts you needed him to.

“Please, please touch me. I’ve been so good for you,” You whined, almost on the brink of crying. It hurt being this full of need with nothing soothing the painful ache.

“Only since you asked nicely.” And then three long, slender fingers rammed inside your cunt. Your head threw back and a loud moan was heard from your lips.

That’s when Kenma started jackhammering his fingers in and out of your pussy, not giving you any time to recuperate. His fingers kept constantly hitting that spot inside of you that you needed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like that?” Kenma groaned; you felt his still uncovered cock starting to become hard once more. And you couldn’t even do anything to respond to his question.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll. You’d feel so good around my cock, huh?” Those sickenly sick words added oil to the fire that was inside of you.

You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth nor the feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you. Kenma could feel your cunt starting to squeeze his fingers more and he waited just a few more pumps and that’s when he stopped.

You were on the brink of cumming when he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. A trail of shiny liquid left behind on his perfectly manicured fingers.

“Stop, no, please! I was so close!” You cried, tears actually falling from your eyes. You could feel your orgasm dispersing, but the feeling of horniness never fully went away.

You were about to complain some more to him, the man who had made you so fucking horny but to deny your orgasm. However, he cut you off with a sharp kiss, gripping the back of your head and forcing your mouth open.

You gladly let him explore your mouth, hoping that if he did this, he’d let you finish. The hot, wet muscle felt different compared to your own but that didn’t make it any less lust filled.

Kenma pulled away, eyes heavily lidded with desire, a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his. His burning hot cock throbbed underneath you, right near to where your pussy was soaking.

“Stay my good girl and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want.” He stared you in the eyes, a lazy smirk on his face, entrapping you into nodding your head as if you were in a trance.

You’d stay his good girl for as long as forever if it meant that he would pleasure you like this from now on.

a/n: hot damn, wasn’t expecting my mind to write this lmfao, as always requests are open and i hope you enjoyed <33

[nerdanelparmandil]

Indulging into some kidnap family headcanons and ideas that I've had or have seen floating around my timeline.

I like to imagine that yes, love grew between them.

Love grew when Maglor would sing the children to sleep and banish their nightmares away.

Love grew when when the children were hungry, and Maedhros or Maglor would slide half of their portion of food into their plate, so that they would never go hungry.

Love grew when Elrond and Elros wanted to sneak into the kitchen and steal some sweet treats. Maglor would catch them and put the treats away, because human children might get cavities if they eat too much sweets. Maedhros would place the treats on their beds when no one was looking.

Love grew when Elros tired of learning music scales, and began to hide under Maedhros' desk.

Love grew when Elrond began to bring little injured animals inside, in order to treat them, begging Maglor to sing them better. Maglor indulged him, but the songs were never as effective as they could be, despite the power in Maglor's voice -- too much blood on his hands for them to be the hands of a healer.

Love grew when Elrond begged Maedhros to teach him how to use a sword, arguing that a dead healer was worse than a mediocre swordsman.

Love grew when Elrond and Elros understood that Maedhros was teaching them how to defeat him and Maglor should they ever be on opposite sides. (I read this somewhere and it breaks my heart everytime I think about it).

Love grew when Maglor would teach them how to be princes of the Noldor, how to behave in a court, how to welcome their guests. Maedhros would teach them languages and diplomacy, and how to keep a kingdom's finances in check.

Love grew, between a tale of their lineage and a chess match in front of the fire.

Love grew when Maedhros and Maglor would ride out to clear the lands of orcs and other foes, because they had two little princes to protect and keep safe.

Love was between them when Maedhros and Maglor gave them their own heirlooms to pass onto their future children, and sent them off to Gil-Galad with the rest of their scant court.

The last gift Maedhros and Maglor could give Elrond and Elros was to spare them the grief of their last moments, when the oath swallowed their last shreds of sanity.

[kentstoji]

kyle garrick who charmed your mother, before any possible relationship. and your mother, as a result, decided to take the matters in her own hands and play matchmaker — "this boy keeps making heart eyes at you"

kyle, who pretended to be innocent and clueless, but years later — when an elegant golden ring rested on your finger, thanked your mother at every opportunity. (he loved being her favorite son-in-law btw).

[tzufcallsmeshomps]

So,, my first time drawing her and it’s… Ulpizmon Miku? Ulpizmiku??

For the uninitiated, Ulpizmon is an annual song contest held in Ulpena ((common girls-only high schools in Israel)). Pizmon means chorus, song, hymn, etc.!

It’s often held during the month of Adar, around Purim, and organized by either the tenth or twelfth grade.

Songs are usually preformed in pairs or small groups ((my sketch initially included Rin, but I feared I’d give up on the piece halfway through if it became too difficult to complete- I’ll attach it below though!))

This was a lot of fun, and honestly really nostalgic~~

Sketch below:

Their names in this setting would be… Ne’omi Kook and Rina? I dunno my brain’s fried by the end of this piece

[sroloc--elbisivni]

there are some headcanons where it's like. 'i would enjoy this as a light seasoning in fic but certain chunks of the fandom have become more committed to this than the actual canon and made it load-bearing in scenarios where it simply doesn't make sense'.

[peanuttoffee]

The Bad Batch finale missing scene

Yeah I needed that…

May the 4th be with you!🙌

[rueclfer]

heyy there can i request some more touya headcannons? i really enjoy your way of picturing him because it’s just so canon and he’s kinda a lovely dick y’know. whatever comes to ur mind. thank u so much!!

weelll since you gave me so much freedom here r some touya as a housemate hcs ANNDD a moodboard bc i enjoy the visualization <3 since we talked abt this the other day too !! (i yapped so hard here sry sry this is so indulgent)

bakugou's and sero's version too hehe

housemates // touya todoroki

touya hates the idea of living with a complete stranger or one of his siblings, so what other option does he have other than forcing his best friend (crush) on a lease with him?

the newfound freedom definitely puts him on his ass for a few weeks. barely sleeps. eats like shit. trash is scattered everywhere. several unpacked boxes. it stays like this until fuyumi comes over to check our the place and gives you two a hard scolding to get your shit together.

more often than not, you'd end up waking up on the couch with your legs sprawled out across his lap and his upper half leaned over the couch arm rest in deep sleep. staying up so late was probably one of his favorite things about living together. being able to talk as loud as you wanted, watch movies late into the night, look over the city from your balcony- he found solitude in existing with you.

if he wasn't already codependent before moving in together, just know his ass will be GLUED TO YOU. you'd be doing work in your room and he'd barge in and flop down on your bed without a word. maybe he'd gotten a bit too comfortable.

if he's feeling extra annoying that day, he'd bring in his guitar and amp and keep asking you to rate his riffs until you entirely give up on work and give him some attention.

is it obvious his love language is quality time? not only that, gift giving too. he's like a fucking crow.

"look what i found. it's a rock. for you."

makes him soooo giddy to see your display of the rocks, feathers, and dried up flowers he picked up for you on his walk. sometimes you'd come home and there'd be a new addition to the ever growing collection.

ofc you'd return the energy in a different way. touya will not cook for himself. ever. he eats like shit as an internal rebellion against the healthy diet he was forced upon as a kid, but you will not allow that boy to rot himself from the inside out!! he can expect several tupperwares of portioned out meals with notes attached to the lids if you know he'd be home all day by himself.

"to t <3. if you don't eat every last bite i'll find out and it'll hurt my feelings and i might combust into flames or something idk don't risk it!"

i can also imagine him holding back tears whenever you ever come into his room to hand him a bowl of cut up fruit. the first time you do it he'd be speechless like jaw dropped taken aback. has he ever felt love like this??? i think not.

despite all of the kind gestures, he's still touya todoroki. hides your keys if you annoyed him that morning by rushing him in the bathroom and makes you a few minutes late to class/work. chronic door slammer. pisses with the door wide open. no sense of privacy and do not gaf to knock. always locking himself out -> i feel strongly about this like imagine coming home after a long day and he's sitting out in the hallway with a pouty face waiting for you hehehe.

i don't think he'd realize this crush until a few months after you've moved in together. how could he when you two practically already act and bicker like an old married couple?

yes- peanut butter belongs in the fridge. no- it doesn't. stop leaving your socks everywhere. you forget to flush again. stop slamming the doors. you ate my chips, didn't you? don't lie. did you really need to put the mugs up that high? (he does it on purpose, and tightens the lid to every jar too.)

it wasn't until one late evening when he comes home to find you frantically mixing a doughy substance in a large metal bowl. you never bake, but you have your own oven now, so why not?

"god, finally. help me, my arms hurt." you groan, shoving the bowl in his hands. "i think i fucked up."

he sees the hurricane aftermath of your kitchen- flour everywhere, egg shells left on the counter, every single jar imaginable opened and scattered around. he could be teasing you about the mess, but god you looked so beautiful with that stupid wrinkle in between your eyebrows as you read over the recipe, and the streaks of flour across your pant leg from wiping your hands, and the way you swipe away the stray pieces of hair falling in your face with the back of your hand- oh fuck.

he thinks he's falling in love with you.

he swallows it, but he starts acting kinda weird around the apartment.

like he's.... avoiding you?

living with his best friend whom he just so happens to develop a crush for, would eat him alive. he locks himself in his room and chain smoke out his window while he's stressing the fuck out. he told you he'd stop smoking, but he's sure you'd understand the need for it right now. he hopes you can't smell it.

i also think he'd be a stress cleaner lmaaoo he cannot sit still with his thoughts for too long, so the headphones are ON and blasting and he'll definitely use that as a scapegoat + the loud ass vacuum for ignoring you if you try to talk to him while he's on this cleaning frenzy.

you think he's sick LMAO imagine the pain he feels when you come knocking on his door and calling out that you're leaving a bowl of soup and cough medicine outside his door for him. he doesn't tell you that yeah he's sick but *not in that way*

lovesick. that boy is lovesick!!!!!!

how do you avoid your housemate while you figure out how to control your feelings?

he confesses via note that he leaves on the kitchen counter. really simple tbh nothing too extravagant, but he signs off by telling you that he's staying crashing at fuyumi's for a couple days.

you text him a string of obscenities to get his ass back home and he does (he's scared of you).

he CAANNOOTT talk about his feelings in an adult way. he is sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch, twiddling his thumbs, and staring down at his feet like a child while you reread his confession note out loud to him. you find his discomfort hilarious but endearing. he finds you unbearably insufferable.

jesus the amount of times in that apartment where he would storm off to his room whenever you two got in an argument or you pissed him off...old habits die hard, you guess, because this isn't the todoroki household anymore and you aren't scared to lose that deposit and kick a door down.

once you corner him and get him to open up about his feelings the air in the room suddenly shift!! the clouds are clearing and the sun is shining woooowww look at what good communication can do.

sharing an apartment with your BOYFRIEND is no different than sharing one with your best friend. i think he'd like to keep your separate bedrooms to have your own space, but you'll rarely sleep apart.

so! many! new! traditions!

helping him dye his hair on the first saturday of every month. biweekly horror movie marathons. counting the communal piggy bank ever couple months. trying new takeout spots until you find THE spot for every category- chinese, pizza, ramen, etc etc.

and finally, an everlasting mark on your first apartment together: a small carved out heart around your initials left on the inner corner of a kitchen cabinet done with his pocket knife on a random weekday evening while you two are cooking dinner together.

-

touya tag: @moonchild701 @kaldurahms-lover @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm

[hanafubukki]

Menstrual Cramps Comfort Headcanons with Diasomnia (+ Meleanor Draconia and The Knight of Dawn)

You are cramping and curled up in bed, Malleus holds you, his tail and arms holding you protectively. The heat from his hands sooth your pain. Malleus would try and keep your mind off the pain by talking to you or spouting random gargoyle facts. When you were sleeping, he would cast a spell so you would have sweet dreams. “Ask me anything you need, beloved, and I will provide.” Suffice to say, Malleus will be with you the entire time.

Lilia knew about menstrual cycles but the fae’s differs from the humans vastly. So he learned what he could from books and online resources, now if those books were up to date is another story. Lilia is a caretaker and he will take care of you: blankets, chocolates, and head pats are some of what you can look forward to. “I’m here, love. You can lean on me.” But also, because he’s cheeky, “I know there’s a way you don’t have to worry about your cycle for 9 months. What do you say? Should we try it~”

Silver knew something was wrong from the way you moved. He was a trained knight, it was his duty to observe for anything out of the ordinary, and you were clearly not yourself. When you hunched over in pain, he was quick to your side, offering to take you to the infirmary. Chivalry isn’t dead, it is literally personified in Silver. He would hold heavy items for you, pick you up from class, get you food, and make sure to remind you of meds if you need it. He would offer to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. “I don’t want to see you suffer, please rely on me.”

Sebek could smell the blood miles away. Normally he would think it’s just a result from normal NRC brawls, but when he smelled it concentrated on you, he was alert right away. He would ask you where you were hurt, practically ready to haul you over his shoulder to the infirmary, but when he paused and observed you: he knew what was wrong. It’s okay, he would assure you, he knew what to do from his mother and his sister after all. You could tell he was embarrassed, but he took his duty diligently in protecting you. He would make you teas, spout facts on what you should and shouldn’t do, and be ready for anyone who looked wrong at you. “Be at ease! For I will protect you from any harm. Now, drink that tea. It will help your pain.”

Meleanor was surprised when she learned about human’s cycles. For the fae, it was vastly different. They had it a couple times a year, but for humans to have it every month? My, how inconvenient it can be, especially if it is as painful as yours seems to be. No worries, she will provide so you are always comfortable. After all, she is Queen of Briar Valley, everything is within her reach. She would have you rest, her hands threading through your hair, soothing you. Her humming a melody calming you down. If anyone dared to hurt you, she wouldn’t hold back from smiting them. “Imbeciles, they dare to hurt you? I will deal with them personally. Now rest, little one, I’m here.”

The Knight of Dawn is determined and loyal as you know. He would notice right away when he saw you. He knew something was off. You seemed to curl into yourself more as time went on. He would watch you throughout the day, helping you whenever he could. He had an inkling of what was wrong but didn’t want to embarrass you. He would bring you food and have you rest repeatedly throughout the day. He would ask the three fairies who blessed him for a potion to help you should the pain be more than you could handle. At times, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted to just carry you to bed with how antsy he unknowingly was. He would hold your hand and rub his thumb on your wrist, trying to sooth you. Don’t be surprised if you fell asleep in his warm presence and woke up to him smiling gently at you. “Are you awake? Sleep some more, I will watch over you.”

[moongreenlight]

I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.

Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻

ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.

Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.

If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.

He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.

It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.

He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.

So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.

And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.

The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.

You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.

He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.

He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.

Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.

He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.

The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.

Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.

But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.

He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.

Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.

Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.

It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.

Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.

And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.

Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.

Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.

He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.

The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.

But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.

“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”

Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.

“‘Course.”

Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.

Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.

“How long you been keepin’ this in?”

“Which bit.”

His response was flat.

“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”

Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.

“Don’t push it.”

Simon bit back.

“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”

“Johnny.”

“Looks ready’ta pop.”

A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.

“Few months.”

They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.

“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.

“Hope not.”

Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.

“Boy o’ girl?”

This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.

“Girls.”

[groovyangelkisses]

jax’s sons tattoo on his back 😋 thinking about scratching it up

oh my goodness, yes!

he loves the feeling so much, that he pays for you to get your nails done! sometimes, if he's feeling particularly tender, he'll sit with you while you get them done and wolf whistle when they're finished "red hot baby, real nice" :')

and the morning after you've marked him all up? he doesn't care, he isn't fazed, in fact he puts on his white tank and waltzes around the club house proudly. naturally the guys give him shit, tig especially, but he doesn't care, jax'll just motion you over to him, a quizzical "darlin' do a spin for me" falling from his bubblegum lips as you twirl. and once your world stops spinning, he'll wrap his strong arm around your waist and glare up at tig "you're tellin me you wouldn't let her do whatever she wanted to you, dumbass?"

and you know when he fights o'neill? his chest heaving and sweaty and his hair loosely tied up? smiling and soooo cocky? if he had his favorite accessory, the remnants of your dragging hands on his back, he considers it a "good luck" charm. leanin' over to tell o'neill, "no marks buddy, my girl doesn't like to share"