#simon ghost headcannons

[sopiao]

i alr know that simon is not like this, and will never be like this. but i love to think that he’s very physically clingy ;3 but like cat clingy

Like, you’re watching one of you favorite shows in the living room. Simon walks in after he made himself a pb&j and he sees you comfortable.

Wordlessly he walks over to you, ignoring your greeting as he stands over the couch for a little to get in between you and the cushions. His legs trapping yours in and your back laying against his chest.

“Simon?” You chuckle, looking up at him, for any explanation. He instead just holds the sides of your head and turns it back straight towards the TV.

—

Sitting in your bed, laid back in the nice comfortable pillows, with your laptop on your lap. Trying to get some work done. Your boyfriend walks in, seeing you working and comfortable? He can’t have that.

Not even acknowledging him as he climbs into bed, moving your laptop to the side and laying himself across your lap. Deciding that here and now that he’ll take just a short nap :3

“Simon!” You huff, pushing your glasses up and reaching over him to get your laptop. Placing it on his back as you continue to work while he sleeps on you.

—

When he wakes up and your not there, he takes no time to search the house. He hears the shower in and immediately barges in. Not even registering that you screamed.

“Simon, I’m showering” You scold him, washing the suds out of your hair as he opens the shower curtain half way and sits on the toilet while he waits for you to finish. He’s just playing some sudoku or coloring game on his phone while he waits.

You sigh, knowing that he won’t leave since this has become a regular thing for him to do.

—

Even when he’s working out he can’t be away from you. He has you sit on his back during push-ups, on his lap during hip thrusts, he even uses you for squats and curls.

—

Cuddling before sleeping is a need for him. He can’t get a good nights sleep until he has you pressed against him and legs tangled together with his. Like a cat he moves a lot in his sleep, but he can still sense whenever you’re not close.

Waking up his arm is splayed across your middle to keep you close to him, whenever you try to move or sit up he unconsciously pulls you back down and turns over, taking you with him.

[angel5ofp0rn]

Price’s children would be pretty well-behaved. Listen to him well, respect their elders, etc.

Gaz’s children would be a bit snobby, really into sports, a bit more hardheaded.

Soap’s kids are little menaces, but have hearts of gold. Would do anything for their family and friends, love their parents more than anything in the world.

Ghost’s children- and they’re all girls- are the most spoiled little divas any of the other guys have ever met. The minute he sees one of their little lips quiver, he’s offering snacks, lollies, money, the shirt off of his back- hell, the shirt off of Soap’s back. Poor guy can’t stand to see his little girls upset.

[v1x3n]

COD MENS FAVOURITE POSITIONS

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY — lovesss doggy style! loves having you on all fours, preferably your head shoved into a pillow while he pounds into you so fast and hard you start to see stars! loves seeing the fat of your ass bounce with each thrust and he adores when your back arches due to him grabbing onto the strands of your hair - forcing you back while you mewl and whine out!!

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MCTAVISH — missionary, call him a basic bitch or whatever but you don't see how your tits jiggle with each thrust, how if he leans back he can see your full fucked out expression, the slight bulge in your tummy and your swollen nipples. red from how harsh he was sucking them earlier that day. call him vanilla but he doesn't care when you look so fucking perfect.

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK — cowgirl by far, or once in a while reverse cowgirl, he loves seeing your tits jump as you do too, or if its reverse he loves seeing your arse bounce while you hop on his thick cock. his favourite part is seeing you struggle to continue, your legs weak but you need to finish so its the only option! your thighs shake and your body growing limp when your done is like a reward to him.

JOHN PRICE — loves mating press, holding your shaking legs up so high your legs are next to your ears! your pussy spread wide open for him, your puckered hole on show and your smushed up stomach is all too much for him! your body makes him go crazy, he loves it when he holds onto your plush arse and your legs dangle in the air in front of him. your tired face moaning, screaming out as he uses the position to his advantage - shoving his fat cock soooo deep inside of you!!

PHILLIP GRAVES — as much as he loves every position, his favourite one is 69. he loves your sloppy tongue on his cock, giving his long stripes up and down his length as he kitty licks your sensitive cunt. spanking your arse when you squirm too much. he can feel you gag on his dick as he shoves his tongue into your hole, you choking on his dick due to the pure surprise!!

[minihotdog]

I can just imagine the cod boys beefing up on deployment. They’re already big but they come home after 8 months or so and they’ve nearly doubled in muscle mass, a little fat to go with it.

You’re frothing at the mouth when your man comes walking through the door. His usual uniform top clinging for life around his biceps. The fabric struggling to stretch around his body. His pants molded to his thighs.

After months of him being touch starved, nearly nutting at the thought of simply holding you, he gets all the affection and then some when you can’t keep your hands off of him.

He drops his bags down and you just start going off about how big he’s gotten, groping his giant pecs, running your hands all over him.

Eventually he has to start prying your hands off of him because you cannot help yourself.

[wheezingstar]

Imagine that you get so sick that you cannot sleep in your bed with Simon. You would go sleep in the living room on the couch, your muscles aching so badly no matter how little you move. And feeling like you can’t breathe.

Simon would be stressing out, but he’d go into the living room and sit on the floor next to the couch unsure what to do. At some point he gets up and makes some tea to help soothe your throat and sets it on the coffee table for you.

Simon isn’t afraid of a little sickness, but when you start needing to get up every few minutes to cough up some phlegm it becomes an issue and concerns him.

You’re absolutely restless, the little sleep you did get you’d wake up about five minutes later calling out in a raspy whisper “Si…” as if he’s gonna leave you for being sick. He stays where he sits on the floor next to the couch and reassured you that he’s there and you’re okay.

“It’s alright, Luvie. You’ll feel better soon”

He’ll kiss your forehead and gently run his fingers through your hair wanting to put you back to sleep, cause if you’re asleep you can’t be in pain, right?

[http-paprika]

Roommates are sometimes absolute assholes. But not Alex Keller, Alex Keller would be a good damn roommate. You wouldn't have to worry about him arguing on the phone with someone at 1:00 AM when you have work early in the morning. You may just have to remind him to turn down his romcoms late at night.

That goes for Gaz as well, he'd honestly be the one getting onto me for leaving my dishes in the sink. He'd put you in your place so fast it would leave you awestruck and you'd end up washing his dishes out of confusion. The apartment? It would smell so nice in a natural way.

Soap.... Soap wouldn't intentionally be a bad roommate. But I have a feeling that he'd accidentally be loud late at night or early in the morning. He doesn't think about the fact that you're still nice in bed when he comes back from the gym and starts making a protein smoothie. After the first couple of times of you complaining tho, he'd switch to making them the day before.

And do you even actually have a roommate when it comes to Ghost? Yeah, he pays his share of rent and utilities but he's sighted less than the local cryptid. The one time you did seem to see him was at 3:00 AM when you went to go get water. You screamed so loudly that your neighbors thought someone had broken into your apartment.

Price isn't your roommate. He's your whole ass husband. The fridge and pantry are full of beers, meat and potatoes. After plenty of persuading he's finally agreed to stop smoking in the apartment, but the smell from his cigar still lingers a little.

[ghostsandguns]

Simon is an observer. He doesn’t need things spelled out for him. He picks up on the little things—the subtle shifts in movement, the hesitation in a voice, or the unspoken words in a glance.

He understands why you hide your face behind your hands when he takes a picture of you. After a few gentle words, assuring you it'll be just for him, he manages to make you feel at ease, coaxing a shy smile from you.

He waves Johnny off when he asks if you're not too hot in that long dress, as Simon and you sit under the sun umbrella at the beach, happily watching the rest of them splashing around in the water.

He doesn't pressure you when you've switched outfits for the nth time and you're already late to the event. Instead, he patiently waits, offering a reassuring nod every time you ask him if it looks good.

You don't have to ask him to turn off the light when things start getting steamy in the bedroom; he's already reaching for the switch without a word.

When you stand in front of the mirror, looking at yourself, he quietly joins you, removing his mask. The two of you stand there, feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet wrapped in the safety and love only the other can offer.

[pricesfav]

Retired Price who can not let go! He’s constantly checking in with his team he misses them and wants to know how they’re doing :( but perhaps multiple times a day

Retired Price whose wife is ecstatic to be spending more time with him only to have him moping around grieving the loss of his beloved job.

Retired Price who still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of retirement and can not stand to be still for a second

“What are you doing?”

“Napping?”

“But why? We could be out. Lets go on a hike”

Retired Price who, though old, cannot stop moving and always has to be active even if it causes some strain on his back

“John please can we go home?”

“Just a mile more okay love ?”

Retired Price who finally calms down… after he threw out his back. The wife has never seen John so calm before but there he was in the backyard sitting on a lawn chair listening to his audio book clipping away at his bonsai.

Retired price who is now obsessed with keeping his lawn extra tidy. He bought a new (and expensive) lawn mover, waters it every morning, makes sure none of it is dead. Anything to keep his lawn in tip top shape

Retired Price who keeps finding things wrong with the house and throws himself into renovation mode fixing every little problem he finds

Retired Price who can finally get back into his hobbies and finally get back working on his dads old 64 Chevy Impala

Retired Price who’s cut down the texts to his boys from every day to every other day which is progress.

Retired Price who is having much more fun spending time with the missus now that he knows how to relax. They have lots of fun gardening, cooking, baking, and just being in each other’s company.

Retired Price who still goes on hikes but doesnt make it John prices mission to get from point A to point B. His only mission is to enjoy his hike with his lovely wife.

Retired Price who finally finished the car and takes the missus to the beach for a well earned picnic with no hike

Retired Price whose house and lawn has never looked better. Who has a cool new (old) car. Who’s picked up a few new hobbies and skills and who’s been the happiest he’s been for a while

Retired Price who realised he made this decision for his wife therefore he will spend the rest of his life with her and keep her happy. After all happy wife happy life.

[eiraeths]

thinking about artist soap who always jokes about never being the muse. now ghost doesn’t have a lick of artistic ability in his fingers, but he does have money and a long mental list of soap’s favorite things.

it takes a few weeks to arrive in the mail. ghost doesn’t think he’s ever seen soap this quiet. a portrait from oil paint made by one of soap’s favorite artists.

[uhohdad]

(18+) ♡König♡ Voiceline Inspired Drabbles

“Who else is with you?”

Jealous!König Shows Ghost Who Reader Belongs To

WARNING: ABUSIVE & NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

“I can hear them with you, don’t even think about lying.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

Your response was meant to sound nonchalant, but it comes out wavered and squeaky. Shaking fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“Who is it?” König demands, but you both know he already knows the answer.

“It’s- it’s just the guys,” You mumble into your phone, shoulders braced and lips pulled back in unease.

“Of course it is. Is Simon there?”

“Who ya talking to, bonnie?” Soap asks, and you give him a panicked push on his chest in an effort to shut him up.

“Come home, right now.”

König’s tone leaves no room for argument. Grit and threatening, it sends a chill down your spine and raises the hairs on your neck.

Your lips part to speak, stammering through your sentence.

“I- I’m not driving, I cant-”

“You have twenty minutes.”

The line cuts off, the phone shaking in your rattling hands as you pull it in front of your face, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Simon,” You utter, “You have to take me home, now, please.”

The car goes silent, the light atmosphere sucked from the car the moment your frantic words cuts through.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- nothing,” You say, eyes darting to the side, “Just-”

You cut yourself off, debating whether or not you should tell the truth, scrambling for an excuse, but your mind draws a blank.

“You have to take me home.”

“Lover boy?” Simon asks.

Your silence confirms his suspicion. You wince, knowing this is being filed in his ever-growing ‘Reasons to Hate König’ folder.

“Simon, please,” Your plead is made of only breath, fingers fidgeting beyond control.

Simon says nothing, the car suffocatingly silent. He continues driving, not so much as activating his turn-signal.

Your voice picks up vigor, the desperation palpable, “Simon- Simon, please. Take me home.”

“No.”

The car sucks in a collective breath, only the hum of the engine filling the taut, awkward air choking you all.

“Simon,” You whine, your eyes pinch shut and your hand rests on your collarbones, “Please.”

Soap raises a brow, lost, “What’s wrong?”

“Lover boy doesn’t like it when our dove has a good time,” Simon answers gruffly.

You unclip your seatbelt, sticking your head in between the two front seats.

“Simon, you have to take me home, now, please.”

He says nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Simon!”

Without thinking, your trembling hand darts out to grab the steering wheel.

“Sit back!” Simon demands, the car swerving in its lane as he bats your hand away.

The sudden harshness in his voice makes you flinch, eyes wide and your hand retracting to your chest. It is not a request between friendly co-workers after hours, it is an order from your Lieutenant.

“Now,” He says, glaring you down in the rearview mirror.

At once you shrink in on yourself, shoulders slouching and eyes fixated on your shoes as you sit back in your seat.

The burn of Soap’s stare is searing, he’s looking for an explanation, but you can’t meet his eyes, too busy swallowing the shame of Ghost’s scolding and the fear of your boyfriend’s fury. Your stomach is twisted in knots, breaths shallow and knee bouncing to expel the nervous energy.

When Simon pulls into the pub’s parking lot, you whip your phone from your pocket as you scramble to order a ride, but Simon snatches your phone from your hands and ignores your objections.

“Simon, please! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I’ll handle it,” Simon grits without looking over his shoulder.

He gives you a look piercing enough to make your knees knock together. You swallow, unable to find the strength to argue.

After a few drinks, the energy of the group has relaxed, but you’re still fidgeting, darting your eyes around and trying to keep the beer in your stomach instead of throwing it up from pure nerves.

You freeze when you see him yank open the pub’s door, hard enough he nearly rips it off the hinges. Your heart stops, your mouth parts, wide eyes locked onto him. He scans the pub for a moment before he finds you, wearing those scary, half-lidded, dangerous eyes that bore into you. From across the pub, his stare makes your stomach twist, and you have to stifle the urge to claw your way free from the booth and flee from predator eyes.

König crosses his arms over his chest, and tilts his head at you. An impatient finger taps his opposing bicep. Even from the other side of the noisy room, his message is clear.

‘I’m waiting.’

You swallow and look to the sticky tabletop, both your knees and your voice trembling when you speak.

“I gotta, I gotta run to the bathroom,” you mumble to no one in particular, shimmying awkwardly from the booth.

“König,” You start once in range, “I can explain, please, just let me-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when he snatches you by the wrist with a crushing grip, forcing you to stumble over your own feet as you’re dragged out of the bar and along the sidewalk.

“König, please- I tried, I swear I tried, Simon just-”

König’s other hand grabs you by the waist with enough strength that bruises are surely to bloom at his fingertips. He ignores your writhing and winces of pain when he pushes you up against the pub’s dingy alleyway, blocking you in with his massive frame. His voice is hissed, his eyes devoid of any emotion other than rage.

“I don’t ever want to hear his name again. You understand me, little one?”

You choke, sputtering and stammering out syllables that will never get flushed out into sentences as his eyes narrow at you. Your body curls in on itself as he towers menacingly over you, his size alone more than enough of a threat to keep you compliant.

You nod, shaky but quick.

“Say it,” He growls.

“I understand,” You answer, just a squeak with words warbled in.

“Good,” He says, but you can tell by his tone he’s still not appeased.

A hardened hand snatches your wrists, pinning them to brick. Another yanks at the waistband of your jeans, ignoring your objections and your squirming legs.

“König, no! Here?” You whisper frantically, head whipping around to search for watchful eyes.

“You had the opportunity to come home. And you chose not to.”

He leaves no room for argument, a boot coming up to step on the pants bunched at your mid thigh, forcing them entirely to the ground when he plants his sole back on the concrete. You obey when he nudges you to suggest you free your ankle, and he wastes no time taking his cock from his pants.

You whimper when he presses himself to your panties, nestling between your lips with a grind.

He laughs, low and sinful in your ear.

“Already fucking wet, schlampe?”

A raspy grunt leaves him as he ruts his swollen cock against your panties.

“Just a little hure, whoring herself out for every man who pays you attention.”

You shiver at the vibration of his words against your chest, the tickle of his breath on your ear.

“Guess I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to.”

With your wrists pinned to the brick above your head, his other hand snatches your jaw with a tight grip. He forces your head to the side, sinking his teeth into the sensitive, exposed flesh of your neck. You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you, and the hand on your jaw quickly covers your mouth, muffling your wails with his calloused palms as he leaves imprints of his bites on your skin.

He laughs into your slobbered skin, kissing over the tender indents in your flesh.

“Don’t worry little one,” He coos in a sickly sweet voice, “It’ll be over soon.”

Your whimper is stifled by his hand, but he gives your voice back when he reaches down to yank your soaked panties to the side.

“But you still need to learn your lesson, ja?”

He lets out a groan when the tip of his enraged cock swipes along your slick cunt.

“König, please,” You whine on a shaky exhale.

“Sh, sh, sh.”

König grinds between your lips, coating himself in your arousal before lining himself up. He is by no means patient, bullying half of his cock inside of you on his first thrust. Your head lulls forward, sniveling in his hold as your cunt stretches around his greedy cock.

He grunts through clenched teeth, pulling himself from you only to thrust mercilessly back in.

“Take this cock like a good girl,” He grits.

He finds a steady pace, hardly letting you adjust to his size before he’s fucking more of himself into you, your arousal soaking his throbbing cock.

“You want to act like a hure, hm?”

He leans in, letting go of your wrists to pick you up by your thighs, and gives you a stint of particularly brutal thrusts, your tits bouncing degradingly against your ribcage as he fucks you further into the bricks.

He snarls at you.

“Then I’ll treat you like a fucking hure.”

With your hands free, you’re clawing at him, trying to expel the overwhelming sensation of him robbing you of your tight, sensitive cunt. White knuckling his shirt and digging into his chest with your finger nails, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.

“See? You can barely handle me, hure. You don’t need anyone else.”

You suck in a sharp breath when you hear bootsteps echoing at the end of the alleyway.

Sprung eyes lock with Simon, standing still in his spot, watching you get pounded against the wall.

König laughs, low and truly gut-wrenching. He doesn’t even have to look to know Simon’s there. As soon as he’s aware of his presence König doubles the pace of his thrusts, forcing his entire cock into you and filling you to the brim with each bottom out. His brute cock, his mound slapping against your clit, it turns your moans choppy and unrestrained as you succumb to the pleasure, the pain, the humiliation of knowing your Leuitenant has a front row seat to your punishment, watching König demean you and have his way with you.

You’ve gone entirely limp in his hold, intoxicated and cockdrunk, only able to focus on his ruthless cock ravaging your dripping cunt, the feeling of being stretched and filled, the burning eyes of Simon at the end of the alley.

“Alles meins,” He growls strictly, “Got it? All mine.”

You nod, stuttered moans pouring from your lips without thought. His grip on the back of your thighs tighten painfully in threat.

“Say it.”

“A-All yours!” You cry, lulling your head against the brick in defeat.

The pleasure is building in your lower abdomen, an electric and exponential euphoria taking control of your body, every muscle tensed and shaking.

“Tell your Lieutenant who you belong to.”

You twitch in his hold as he pushes you over the edge, not letting up in the slightest, cruelly abusing your g-spot as he works out every last wave of your overwhelming finish.

“König!”

♡ Jealous!König Makes A Bet With Reader ♡

♡ König Drabble Masterlist ♡

Dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics

[alwaysshallow]

Isa baby please can we have ghost be told NO for some work stuff by higher ranked! Reader and him to be like

🤪🤪 why does this make me horny 🤪🤪

You’re mad as hell.

You should say something to him after ordering him to go to your office, you know it. You should address all the things that irritate you right now, but you physically can’t bring yourself to it—not when your desire is to bite into his throat. It’s not leader-ish, it’s not you since you never scream at your team. Yet, you have to clench your fists, so they won’t land on his pretty face.

“Won’t you even look at me?” he asks, and somehow it makes you even more mad at him. A low laugh escapes your mouth, as you shake your head with disbelief. His audacity is fucking insane.

As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice the way he just smirks under that simple balaclava he has. It’s almost arrogant in a way, like he’s completely unfazed by your emotions and what he did.

"You disobeyed my orders," you speak up, slowly, deliberately—it’s the only way of speaking that won’t have you screaming at him. “Then, you proceed to lead the entire team under your command, even if I told you otherwise.”

His brown eyes harden a little, but he’s not less amused, as he takes a step forward in your direction. "I did what I thought fit for the situation," Simon says. Riley’s tone is insistent, not leaving a pole in a discussion; a great leader trait, you'd normally think of it.

But right now, this tone makes you furious because he’s not the leader. He’s someone that should obey, someone that shouldn’t even question your choices on the battlefield since you are the one giving orders. Not him.

“Right. Completely putting people at risk, instead of backing out despite we had everything,” you grit through your teeth. The next words you want to say are tough, so you clean your throat and take a deep breath before actually saying them. “You’re off the mission.”

The atmosphere between you two can be cut with the knife. Not only he doesn’t speak to you for a good minute, but he looks at you with a confused look in his eyes. “What the fuck?”

Of course he’d react this way, you think. Nothing new, nothing surprising—at least not with Simon Riley. “I can’t have you sabotaging my mission because you did something that fit the situation.”

“Sabotaging your mission,” he laughs. You lean against the wall when he takes another few steps in your direction, and you tilt your head at him for a better view. “It fits the situation because ‘m savin’ your bloody ass, colonel.”

“I don’t remember asking for it.” You furrow your eyebrows, trying to calm down. It’s hard enough with being mad at him, but even harder when he's chest to chest proximity, towering over you.

“You don’t have to ask. I’ll do it anyway, whether you want it or not.” He shrugs; for a moment, your words die in your throat.

Whether you want it or not.

You shouldn’t feel so hot and bothered right now. Yet, you can’t really help it, as he leans down to your eye level, so you don’t have to have your chin up anymore.

“Should take you off missions with me, then?” you ask. It’s obvious that the question startles him a bit, as he scoffs.

“You can’t do that, love. Wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”

“As far as I remember, I call the shots. Not you, so I’d be careful.”

He hums, completely ignoring the slight warning in your words; his eyes drop to your lips, like he doesn’t care about anything you said before. “I want to kiss you.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat radiating all over your face. “I could have you suspended for insubordination right here, right now, lieutenant, and you think about—”

You don’t get to finish that sentence, as he pulls his balaclava a little over his nose and he pushes his lips into yours. Forceful kiss at first, evolves into the mutual battle of domination; maybe it’s the rank type of thing considering how eagerly you fight, but you can’t do it for long. Not when his hands lands on your hips and your back hits the wall

“I don’t think,” he pants out, his lips still against yours, “that you get how I care about you. You want to piss me off and send me off the mission? Do it. But I’ll be here anyway.”

“I could call the general on you,” you squeak weakly, as he picks you up and sits you on your desk.

“Then fuckin’ do it,” he growls, looking into your eyes—you do not look away, under any circumstances. It would only grow his ego bigger. “No one could protect you like I do. I’m on your command and you like it.”

The evident cockiness in his voice has you trembling, not to mention the lips on your cleavage, as he kisses the skin here. “On my command? You’d do whatever I want you to do?”

He smirks, lazily. “Isn’t that what I just said, love?”

You bite your lip more; it’s gonna be a bloody mess here in a minute, but you can’t care less right now. “Take off the mask,” you say. He tilts his head like a puppy, confused, as his back straightens. “You’re not fucking with me with this thing on.”

And oh, how quickly he throws his balaclava behind him, not even caring about where it lands. It's just your words that get him, the way you're so sure when you say it. It doesn't take him long to get rid of your pants either, kneeling right in front of you.

"'m gonna take," he murmurs to your thigh, gnawing at the skin, "such a good care of you, love. Gonna make this pussy all mine."

It takes one swipe of his tongue to know that he's right.

[sopiao]

ghost with a pregnant!wife!reader with late night/general cravings :P

sending him to the nearest convenience store late at night started to become a regular thing a couple months after you two found out your pregnant.

Cravings start pretty early on but their more mild, craving and wanting food at random times of the day or having certain snacks on your mind for hours whenever it’s mentioned. But on the second trimester is when it gets really bad, odd foods or combinations start to taste amazing, the cravings and need for certain foods gets so strong it feels like your starving even after a full meal.

But your husband already knows how to deal with you, knows how to talk to you and calm you down in any state of mind. He was especially attentive and sensitive when you both found out about the baby.

Always scratching your back whenever you need him too. Keeping up with his research and looking up every little detail or notice. If you mention that your feet hurt or that you woke up in the middle of the night. He’ll spend the next hour surfing the internet to see if it’s something that’s bothering you or the baby.

He’ll sing it hum to your bump (only when your asleep), caressing the round with his scarred hands, sometimes even holding normal conversations about his day even though the baby can’t answer back.

Simon already can’t get much sleep with his insomnia or late nights that he’s up working. But when you wake him up in the middle of the night to tell him that you’re hungry. He immediately sits up, still a bit tired and lucid, but is more than willing to drive you to Sonic to get you whatever you want, or to the nearest gas station or 7-11 to buy you your snacks.

He’d still be half away when he’s standing in the aisle with you. Slightly swaying side to side, still in his pajamas which is just a black tank and black sweats. Watching you, still wearing his sleep shirt, happily fill your arms with snacks and drinks.

Simon still keeps his.

—

“Love, seriously?” Simon walked into your and his shared bedroom, holding a plastic bag of food you asked him to buy. The small confused smile on his face when he sees you sitting in the middle of the bed, watching your favorite show.

“What? You know I get snacky sometimes” You shrug, wearing one of his favorite band shirts that he loves to see you in, as you watch him walk up to the bed and set the bag in front of you. Sitting at your side with his hand on your stomach, pecking your cheek.

“Chocolate and strawberries are fine. But watermelon and salt? You don’t think that’s a little odd?” Your husband chuckled, sitting behind you in a way that your sitting between his legs and you can rest your back on his chest. Rolling your eyes, rummaging through the bag.

“I’m carrying the baby here. Don’t question the baby’s needs” You try to shush his sass by loosely laying your hand over his mouth. He chuckles full of adoration, holding your hand as he watches you snack away. Wrapping his strong arms around you, mainly your bump, likes to think that he’s protecting both you and the baby when he does this.

—

There were many nights that he woke up, sleepily searching for your figure in the bed with his arm. But when he can’t feel for you he sits up and opens his eyes to find your spot of the bed empty. And the door open with the hallway and kitchen lights on.

“Hun? What are you doing up?” He grumbles, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up, leaning against the door frame. His heart drops when he sees you turn around with a knife. He strides over and swiftly but gently removes the knife from your hand.

“I got hungry and I didn’t wanna wake you” By the sound of your voice he can tell that you’ve been up for a while and is wide awake.

Yes, you are often clumsy, but not that clumsy. Ever since the bump started to become more pronounced he was more protective of you from counter tops, shark objects, or anything blunt.

“Love, I don’t mind helping you with anything, especially now. You won’t bother me by asking” He explained in a tone that was slightly scolding but still very loving and soft, feeling so lucky that he was like this to you, it was so different than how he is with others or at work.

Simon later finds out that you just needed to cut your sandwich in triangles. For some reason it just taste better for you.

—

He never once complained or thought negatively about how much you eat. Simon is absolutely in love with the thought of getting to hold a chubby baby on his inked arm. How chubby the little arms and fingers are. Being able to squish the chub of the cheeks and the roundness of the tummy.

Loves to think that every time you eat and indulge in your weird snacks, that the baby will grow more stronger and healthier. And if your happy, the baby is happy.

Simon even remembers which of your unusual food combos and snacks is your favorite to pack in your hospital bag.

[angel5ofp0rn]

Price’s kids each having a favorite uncle (Gaz, Soap, Simon) is my favorite thought

Price is pissed that his daughter speaks with uncle Soap’s Scottish accent and says things like “Steamin’ Jesus!” when she spills her juice or breaks a crayon

His son, bless his heart, took it to heart when uncle Si said that he’s so big and strong because he eats his spinach (because he overheard that the li’l man said he hates spinach). Poor kid gags and chokes it down every day, no matter what his mum has made for dinner

Having uncle Kyle as the favorite made sense to Price… until Gaz spends the whole weekend teaching the little ones how to prank their old dad; setting up a whoopee cushion in his recliner, making prank calls from Gaz’s phone, ding-dong ditching from the front door, then running to the back door and doing it again

[v1x3n]

COD MEN AND THEIR FIRST DATE WITH YOU

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY — your first actual date would be at his, he has set his living room up in soft blankets and the coffee table cluttered in snacks and fizzy drinks. the lights turned off as he guides you to the couch, the tv turned on and your favorite movie paused. he mumbles something about wanting to make you feel better after you had a shitty week. a smile grows on your mouth as you settle into the sofa, watching your favorite film. his attention isnt much on the movie, his eyes linger on your glowing smile, and he thinks to himself; fuck, youre so pretty right now. after the film, he orders take away and you two chatter, putting on a random series for backround noise. soon it gets very late and you leave his house, fed and happy. but before you leave he receives a kiss on the cheek and a very happy thank you.

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MCTAVISH — he definitely does something wacky, but makes sure you likes it ofc. his ideal first date would be bowling maybe something along that line. at the start he goes easy on you, purposely missing some of the pins or throwing the ball weakly. but after a bit maybeee he gets a little competitive, striking all the pins st once - earning a gasp from you. ofc you aren't going to be as good as him but you still try and he can see that. when you ended up getting all of the pins, you spin around as he smirks at you and gives you a cheeky well done. in the end, he won, obviously. you almost passed him though! heading to Nando's after, you two yap the entire time until finishing your meals. he obviously goes with something hot to impress you, but when his lips go bright red and he curses, grabbing his coke and chugging the whole thing - you burst out laughing. you give his swollen lips a peck when he drives you home.

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK — takes you too a bar, buys a few drinks for the two of you. not enough to get you pissed but enough to get you a little tipsy. chattering and giggling between the two of yous while you order some chips and a burger. its quite casual, but the both of you like it like that. you told him he didn't need to take you somewhere proper and fancy, the local pub - well maybe a nicer pub - would do. after he walks you home, yapping together and soft smiles while you slightly shiver in the cold air. noticing the hairs on your arms rising and the hitch in your breath when a gust of freezing air blows past the two of you. he snorts and takes his jacket off, laying it over your shoulders when he grumbles a quick, 'ere'. when you get to your house, he brings his arms up and down yours, warming you up the slightest. after kissing the top of your head - you kiss the corner of his mouth. then your two mouths connect in a small peck, blushing instantly. he silently cheers himself on once your door shuts in his face - celebrating that he just kissed a gorgeous girl.

JOHN PRICE — always listens to everything you ever say, you mention you like this one restaurant? oh? its your favourite? hes taking you there. you smile up at him when he drives you to the familiar parking lot, telling him you love this place! his cheery smile when you two go inside and sits opposite you. ordering off the menu and giving you subtle looks when your eyes scan through the familiar menu. he orders for you when the waiter comes over and your cheeks slightly blush at that. he speaks up that your outfit is gorgeous and tells you that your hair looks so nice, your blush creeps across your cheeks. face heating up as you see his gaze travel to the smile that plasters onto your face. once you have tea, he makes sure to take you somewhere else after - make a night outa it. he takes you to walk down the beach after, the moonlight shining off of your face as you two talk about the most randomist of things. he spoke about his job, and you told him about yours. nearing the end you two walk back up to the car, and he drives you home. before you leave you peck him on the cheek to thank him for the date, telling him you hoped the second date could come soon. john watches you walk down your front garden - unlocking the door. making sure you get in okay. dreaming about the second date.

PHILLIP GRAVES — took you to the cinema, you had mentioned that you wanted to see this film... so here you are. he had bought you the nice chairs, the ones that had extra cup holders and the fabric was more comfortable. you reminded him it was okay and he didn't haf too but he didn't listen obviously. once you got there he instantly moved the armrest between yous up so you two could be closer! he buys you sweets and popcorn from a local shop, as many as you want he told you. with a carrier bag full of just utter shit, you two enjoy the movie he picked. well, you enjoy it - his eyes are mainly on you, the twitches in your face when something sad or happy happens and the way you struggle to sit in a position were all so cute to him. throughout the movie he tries to gain enough courage to wrap his arms around your waist or at least his shoulders. yeah he was normally a confident guy but something about you just made him all fluttery and nervous. once successfully wrapping his arm around your waist, you snuggle towards him and embrace his warmth. he smiles at that. spilt popcorn on the floor and the movie credits roll, you both stand up and snort at the mess on both your laps. wiping off the remains of the bag of popcorn, you two walk out and yap about the movie. safe to say he didn't have much input.

[cs-fox]

Hybrid AU TF141 - a request from a poll I did a while back ❤️

- if hybrids are allowed in the military, I’d assume they were picked because of their superior combat ability. These are not animals, these are soldiers, chosen for their heightened senses and special abilities that give them an edge over normal humans.

- and I bet they’d be so surprised when a normal human joins their taskforce. What was this all about? Surely this human couldn’t have skills equal to theirs?

- after a long time of avoiding this new recruit and her strange smell, slightly friendlier and more curious avian Kyle decides to engage.

- you’re actually quite nice, at least at the surface, and strangely not bothered by the hybrids too much. There’s a couple of scars on your form that makes Kyle wonder but he knows better than to ask.

- the big werewolf, Soap, is next. He sniffs you, actually sniffs you - big, bristly snout nuzzling into your armpit exactly like a real dog. You think it’s pretty adorable till he shifts back, when you realise there’s suddenly a bulky Scotsman with his arm around you - and a wolfish grin on his face.

- then there’s Price, an aging sheepdog, with a beard akin to his animal counterpart. His dark, beady eyes are kind, but seem to hold a lot of knowledge, and unnerve you every time they fall on your form.

- finally, Ghost. He’s a kind of shapeshifter, for use of a more mundane term, because of his parentage. There’s wolfish ears atop his thatched blonde head but shadows leak from his imposing form like dry ice.

- he almost doesn’t say a word when he approaches, simply observing, as you rock on the balls of your feet awkwardly.

- ‘Um - hi. I’m - ’ ‘Y/N.’ he says, with an unreadable look. ‘I’m Ghost.’

- ‘Well, it’s an honour,’ you tried, attempting reverence, but you didn’t see any change in his demeanour.

‘Mhm.’

His eyes were so powerful, you swore they were boring holes in you, trying to suck your soul out through your mouth.

‘I mean - being able to work with this team. It really is.’

The man didn’t even move, until you made some lame excuse and all but ran off down the corridor back to your quarters, where you stayed for the next hour, a little thrown off by the huge skull-masked man.

You only opened the door when you heard scratching - a small noise, like a tiny animal was begging to be let in.

Because Ghost, despite his stony exterior, had taken to you straight away. You were a kind of light to him - friendly, kind, and a little bit oblivious… even so, he couldn’t resist trying to get a peek inside your quarters - after all, being a shapeshifter had it’s uses.

When the door cracked open, there was a slim tortoiseshell cat, with beautiful dark eyes. You gazed at it in wonder - how did a cat get into the barracks?

It mewled softly, and you scooped it up, grunting slightly at its unusual weight.

‘C’mon baby. I’ll see if I have any food for you.’

Having to gulp down warm milk was all worth it in the end for Ghost, after all, it wasn’t such a torture if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed.

[eyelambspider]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚… 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞 || 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐇𝐜𝐬

┊𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : John Price, König, Ghost, Weaver x gn!reader ┊𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : these military men have a cute 'secret' photo of you quite literally hidden on them, its just a uh-memento to look at when off duty ┊𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : (un)established relationship (you can pick), fluff ┊𝐚/𝐧 : next: old love languages smhhh (maybe)

▹ John Price

Price has always kept a photo of you with him. Always... Well, since you'd met him.

Its a picture you had insisted he get rid of when he took it himself and showed you.

It showed you truly laughing. A bright, 'embarrassing' smile on your face that completely lit up your eyes and showed your teeth before you could cover your face shyly.

Maybe you didn't like it, but Price had stowed it away for 'safe-keeping' ever since. Once promising to get rid of it but of course... he couldn't really do it, could he?

Price keeps it under the brim of his hat, where he wouldn't let anyone take it.

He keeps the image in great shape, making sure there's a protective film over it, trying not to bend or fold it in anyway. Hell, he'd sew it in there whenever he got the chance... but he likes holding it when no one's looking too.

Every time he looks down at it-the picture of you laughing and pure-it makes him smile too, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing over your face.

▹ König

König technically has two photos of you.

One is on his phone in his photo gallery, and the other is a small polaroid you had taken of yourself.

He is free to look at the one on his phone whenever, and its something quickly available... yet he doesn't really open it if there are people around try to glance over his shoulder at what he's looking at.

So, he deeply treasures the tiny polaroid and tries to keep it as safe as possible.

König is the least discreet, to no fault of his own. He's usually caught the moment he tries to look at either one. Either fumbling with his phone or slapping the photo close to his chest so that no one would see.

He just really likes looking at them.

Acts like it never happens and vehemently denies everything, even if to Horangi its pretty obvious.

Sometimes König draws over the pictures, idly doodling either next to the polaroid on a piece of paper while he's doing work or running his finger over his phone screen.

▹ Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost keeps a picture of you too.

Its a small thing, someone had taken when the two of you weren't paying attention. A celebratory photo after a mission.

The moment it was taken, mostly without his knowledge, he had snatched the photo away in hopes to burn it later. Leave no trace of himself to wonder.

But fuck, he couldn't.

It was actually... nice, once he got a good look at it. The image of you both together, standing so closely. The way he looked at you in the photo-brown eyes soft and fully raptured by your face behind his mask-was enough to make him scoff.

Of course the camera caught the exact moment of he showed a bit of fondness.

Still, he keeps it to this day. Buried under all his other meager gear. Folded back so that his image is tucked away and yours stands out.

He doesn't like looking at his face, just yours.

He'd never take it out to the field, where someone could possibly discover a possible... to know your face and use it against him, but sometimes in the loneliest of nights, he takes it out just to look at it.

▹ Grigori Weaver

Weaver would never admit it, but yes, he has a picture of you.

He doesn't want you to know, or find out about it.

If you did, he just denies it and claims "he doesn't know where that thing came from"

but truthfully, its his most precious keepsake.

Its what kept him going through all those years he'd served in prison.

A simple image of your face.

The photo is no bigger than his palm, and its just of you. A small portrait.

The picture is old and worn down lovingly. The corners soft and rounded, and folded in half so many times he had taped the back of it to keep it from splitting entirely in half.

Clearly, it means a lot, with how much care he's tried to put into mending the delicate thing.

He hides the picture in his breast pocket, close to his heart, and in a place only he knows.

It brings a sense of comfort sometimes, knowing your image is so close when he's out there trying to 'fix' things.