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#John price x wife! reader
soapybutt17 · 9 months
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Night Showers
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Summary: A shower, a missing condom, and Soap doing his best to get on his Captain's nerves (the 20 laps around the entire base was worth it). Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 2,168 Chapter Warnings: Smut. Unprotected Penetration. Creampies. P in V. Oral Sex (F receiving). Alternate Universe. Soap just being a little shit for the giggles and all. Unedited as usual. A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, this is for you. I just can't get this idea out of my head and it shows.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open
One of the few perks of being part of the upper ranks were the privilege of having your own time to bathe. But unlike other assholes that prefer being in first, you preferred to be the last one to step foot in the communal showers. You prefer taking your time, lathering yourself up to the perfect suds and savoring every single minute of the cold water against your skin.
You preferred your privacy as much as the next person and practically living in the base, you don’t get that privilege as often as you want unless you were here. It was ironic seeing it was a communal space and there was an off chance another female member of the base would slip back in but it was rare especially at this time of the night where you were certain almost everyone aside from the people on watch duty were fast asleep.
The frigid cold water would have woken you up but the longer you stood in the water, the more did you feel the weight of the day get to you and you were close to falling asleep from where you stood. You were close to ready to finally get to bed and sleep before the following day of drills.
You felt a hand before you realize it and instincts had equipped you to act fast and hit whoever was ballsy enough to touch you. But it seems your husband was faster than you as he held onto your fisted hand. A smirk playing on his lips for catching you off guard.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whispered screamed at him at this point. The panic of someone possibly entering immediately crossed your mind and the possibility of either of you (mostly him) getting in trouble for being in the same shower together.
“Locked the door on my way in if that’s what you’re worried about, Love.” He smirked and only now did you come to realize that he was butt naked just as much as you.
You felt the heat on your cheeks at the realization. It’s been far too long since you’ve had even a semblance of intimacy with your husband. With mission and reports constantly pulling the both of you apart, having him so close to you now only brought the much deprived need in you to come back full force for him to see.
“Fucking hell, cold as ice.” He muttered as the water has finally hit his skin.
Your eyes gazed at the bear of a man you had the privilege of calling your husband. The way the water slither against his hairy chest and down to his happy trail all the pent up desire has come and you did not know if you had the mental fortitude to resist him at this point.
“Seein’ something you like, Love?” He teased, his watercolor eyes gazing down at you as he caught you staring.
“Very.” You quipped turning back to the waters to wash away the last of the suds that was still covering your skin. “But I think you already know that by now.” You muttered looking over your shoulder to look down at his manhood alive and awake you to see.
“Most definitely.” He chuckled, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you further into his torso, his manhood pressing against your back in the process. “And you could feel it right now.”
“John…” You warned. You’ve had far too many close calls with the man in the past, had it not been for everyone’s lack of idea about what was going on between the both of you, you both would have been caught in one too many compromising situation.
“I’m doing nothing, Love.” He chuckled, his hand slowly creeping from your stomach up towards the swells of your breast giving a gentle squeeze before one hand rested against the columns of your neck and the other holding onto your jaws to keep you in place. “Nothing at all.” He purred, lips finding their place against where your neck and shoulders met.
“John not here.” You warned him again, the fact that the doors to the showers were locked did not reassure you at all. You still fear the possibility that someone had seen you then seen your husband walk inside in the middle of the night.
“Where then? Name a time and place.” He propositioned.
“Your room, after you shower.” You finally relent knowing that when your husband was in the mood just as much as you were, nothing would stop him from having you.
“Deal.” He turned your head until your lips met his own in a searing kiss that drowned you more than the water that showered above you both.
Your hand found their way against his wet beard, trying and failing to control his kiss, savoring the first of many kisses he was more than willing to give you for the rest of the night.
Fuck Protocol. Fuck Reputation. You will be fucked and you will make the most out of it.
“I’ll meet you naked on your bed.” He practically commanded you now as he pulled away. Any other time you would have made the protest of him giving him orders the way that he did but you truly didn’t care at this point.
Nodding, you pulled away from his hold. The coldness of his absent touch did more damage than the water ever could. Without even looking back, you had toweled dried yourself and put on your clothes—ignoring the fact that it was your dirtied ones. You’re going to be naked once you’re back in bed anyways and made your way out of the showers and making sure to lock the door behind you in the process.
~
“God fucking damnit.”
With shaking legs, you peered down at your husband post-orgasm from between your legs as he began searching through his discarded pants. A few choice words escaped his lips as he continued on with his search. It was so unlike the Captain to be this antsy but it was given in the situation at hand.
“What?” You asked, dazed still from your release with just his mouth. You felt the ache on your lips from biting too hard and trying and somewhat failing to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum.
“Condom.” He practically growled as he began to look around his room.
You blinked as his frustration was now in full force as he began to look around his room for another spare but no luck whatsoever.
“Just fuck me, John.” You whimpered, hand somehow finding their way towards your still too sensitive bud. Keeping yourself sated while you waited.
“But…”
“I’m on my pills, just fuck me already.” You were now practically demanding him at this point. “Please.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice as he dove right on top of you. Slotting himself in between your legs. He pulled you in for another searing kiss. Your arms and legs had immediately wrapped around him, urging him to finally fuck you but he was taking his sweet time—a time neither of you truly had with the night slowly fading into daylight.
“A fucking little menace you are, aren’t you?” He teased, grinding his pelvic bone against your nub. “Just so desperate for me are you?” He questioned, voice growling louder and instincts kicked in as you slapped your hand towards his mouth to quiet him down.
He did not like it one bit as he held both of your hands above your head.
“Did I fucking tell you to touch me, Pet?” He growled against your ears.
“John—you need to be quiet.” You whispered struggling to free from his hold.
“You don’t get to make orders here, Lieutenant.” He whispered against your ears, nipping at your lobe before his lips lingered against your cheeks and finding their way towards your lips but not truly kissing you. “Is that clear?”
“Yes.” You whimpered as his hips dug further into your core.
“Yes what, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Captain.” You squealed as he finally slipped right into you.
The aching sting even with him preparing you lingered through your entire body. It was always a task in on itself as he held onto you. One hand held onto your own up above your head and the other held onto your leg and pulling it up as high as you physically could.
“Bloody fucking hell.” He groaned. “Fucking tight.” He muttered.
Without another word, his moved his hips, a gruelingly slow but deep pace that had you gasping at each piston. Your legs held onto his waist for dear life and your teeth bit against your lips stopping from any noise from escaping.
You watched all the control leave from your husband’s body as his thrust had gotten sloppy.
“Please…” You pleaded, even when you truly didn’t know what you were even begging for right now. “Please. Please. Please.”
You felt it before you realize what was going on, the spurts painted your insides and the mind numbing shiver that wrecked from your toes up to your head. You moaned, louder than you would have wanted it to be but your husband was quick to silence you with his lips. Pulling you into him, swallowing every moans and every whimper as he continued on with thrusting inside of you.
Finally, your husband had let go of your hands, you winced as blood began flowing right back and the familiar tingling sensation seeped through. He pulled away, looking down at you in the all too familiar adoration that you felt the same for him. You were sated, blissed and thoroughly satisfied from the longing you felt for your husband.
“Are you broken?” John inquired.
A playful smile rested on your face, the context that it was a question he often asked after any of his team were put in a bad spot. It was his own little way of asking anyone and everyone if they were alright.
“Split open, but I’ll survive.” You respond,
He smiled, chuckling at your antics. Before a flip has switch and his hand held onto you pulling you up and turning you until you were on your hands and knees. Without even missing a beat or even allowing you to say anything, he plunged himself right back into you.
“Good.” He chuckled leaning close to your ears. “There’s still more where that came from.”
~
Breakfast in the mess hall was boring and you preferred it that way. Enjoying your tea and toast and jam in the peace of the table you shared with John, Gaz, and Simon was all you could ask for after the grueling night you had with your husband.
Even from the frequent sips of his coffee, you know he was just trying his best to hide the smirk playing on his face. Last night had been a blur after the third round for you. When your husband was on a mission, nothing could truly stop him from taking what he wants and what he needed from you, you were all the more willing to give it to him if he needed it.
But with that being said, you also knew the consequences of your actions. The ache between your legs and the sore throat you were nursing with your ginger tea. There was also the array of hickeys and bruises that painted your entire body and you did your best to hide as much as possible even in the sweltering heat.
The next time you would even think about sleeping with your husband is when you’re both done with your deployment. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Aye Price!”
You winced, the peace of your own filthy thoughts of last night was ruined by Soap’s booming voice taking most of everyone’s attention (some already used to his morning antics, decided to just ignore him). You looked up towards the Scot and paled at the all too familiar foil packet in his grasp.
“Saw this in front of your room last night. Hope the lucky lady you had in your room was fine being raw dogged for the night.”
You could feel the fury boil from where you sat. You had noticed both Simon and Gaz strategically move a little farther away from where the Captain sat but they had an all good view of the man as he stood and ordered Soap to run the entire base twenty times.
It pissed John even more was the fact that Soap wasn’t all that afraid with his punishment, cackling as he skipped out of the mess hall, the condom still in his hand for everyone to see. Soap would truly not let him live this down.
His eyes slowly turned to you and this time it was you who was trying your best to hide the smile as you took another generous sip of your tea.
The consequence of his own actions it seems.
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moralesispunk · 2 months
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John Price x wife x Simon - now lets talk about John who wants kids but found out he can’t get you pregnant so asks a trusted friend - Simon
NSFW so minors dni (breeding kink, pinv unprotected)
(John x reader x Simon all links here)
John had proposed the idea one night and you had brushed it off, you did it again the second time, but the third time he told you about the idea, about how he had a friend who he would trust with his life and so would trust to get his wife pregnant, you started to think about it.
It was something that had clearly been weighing on his mind, on both your minds really though yours in a different way. Kids had always been in your idea of the future, especially a future after John's retirement, but after a year of trying with no success you both found yourself at a doctor holding a result that told you John couldn't have kids.
It was a hard blow for both of you but you decided to give yourselves some time to deal with the emotions of it first. That was, until John came up behind you one day in the kitchen for the third time, chin resting on your shoulder as he told you a way that you could have a kid that may not be his biologically but one he would love wholeheartedly.
"Let's just sit down, the three of us, and talk about it," he said.
So you agreed, "just talk no promises" you told your husband and he kissed your cheek with a smile, moustache tickling your skin as you laughed and wriggled away from him.
It was a night that had you making dinner and talking about your week, filling the silence nervously as you cleaned the plates away, before John pulled you to the living room and onto his lap on one sofa, Simon taking the other.
You both listened as Simon told you that he wanted kids but didn’t feel he could have a relationship. He didn’t want to just be some guy to your kid, he wanted to be another dad, who got to see them and take them at weekends and be no different to you or John. John's hand was a steady weight on your back as you listened, and then after a moment to think about it agreed, the three of you deciding to forgo the expensive procedures with doctors and, as John said, do it the ol’ fashioned way.
So here you were, lying on your back and looking up at Simon who was slowly pushing himself into you. John was sitting in the chair in the corner, having spent the last forty minutes or so helping Simon stretch you open, using his thumb on your clit as Simon curled his fingers inside you until you had come twice before John said you were ready.
"Fuck," Simon groaned and your hands clawed at the covers until he was fully seated inside you.
Your eyes were tearing up. He was bigger than John, although not as girthy, and hitting you deeper than you had felt before. Your head rolled to the side towards John and he could see in your eyes that you needed something more, sitting up from the chair and coming to kneel by the bed.
"You can take it." John stroked a hand over your head. "Can't you, angel?"
"Mhm!" You moaned, Simon's fingers digging into your hips as he started to thrust into you faster.
"Let me hear you," John said, thumb pressing down on your chin so you stopped biting your bottom lip and let your moans out.
You weren't sure who to moan for, what to do. "I can take it," you said, looking at John, but he shook his head.
"Tell Simon."
You rolled your head back and looked up at Simon, your fingers reaching to stroke along his knuckles before he took your hand in his. "I-I can take it, Si-" You cut off on another moan and Simon's eyes were nearly rolling to the back of his skull.
You were both getting close, Simon's chin tucked to his chest as he watched his cock get lost in you and your eyes were rolling when John started rubbing circles on your clit.
"Gonna fill my wife up?" John asked and Simon grunted, his eyes flicking up to yours.
"You goin' to let me? Let me get you good and pregnant?" Simon asked through his grunts and your back archesd off the bed, muttering of please, please, please passing your lips in breathy moans.
"Need you to come for me first," he said and John kept that steady pressure against your clit that he knew you liked, his lips pressed against your temple.
John reached for your other hand, the one not holding Simon's and felt you squeeze it as you came closer to your orgasm. "You're so good," he whispered against your skin "You're doing so well, you're almost there."
"Fuck, Simon! J-John!" You squealed and both men groaned, John wrapped his hand around his cock and stroking it in time with Simon's thrusts.
Your body tensed and relaxed as you came, Simon holding you there with one hand on your hip, your head turning and kissing John who was spilling over his hand. He swallowed all of your moans, pulling back when Simon started to work through his release and he pulled Simon to you, his friend now kissing his wife as he spilled into you.
Simon's kisses were different from John's and you let go of both their hands to run through his hair. He was softer in his kisses, tentative almost as small whines came from the back of his throat until his body relaxed on top of yours.
"Hips up, baby," John's voice came from beside you and Simon pulled back, rolling to the side as John slid a pillow under your hips.
"I don't know if there's science behind this," you giggled, dizzy and sated.
"Not taking any chances," Simon whispered, his rough hand running down your stomach.
After a while the men carried you to the bath, washed you and had you hydrated and tucked back under the covers. If you had been more aware of your surroundings and not on the edge of a deep sleep, you would probably be thinking about that might have been it, how you, Simon and John might be having a baby.
Simon bent down and kissed your forehead, smiling against your lips when you tilted your head up to kiss him proper.
"Well, I should-" Simon reached for his jeans but you stopped him with a hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Stay," you said, tugging his wrist once.
His eyes flicked to your husband and he must have found whatever he was looking for because he dropped his jeans by the side of the bed and lay down beside you, pulling your body into his chest.
John lay on your other side, pulling the duvet up and switching off the bedside lamp.
John had wondered if part of him would struggle with this set up, whether he would get jealous and call it off, yet when he looks at you in Simon's arms it feels right. Especially when, even while asleep, you reach a hand out to wrap around his.
________
ready to run into the sea after writing that
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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>
John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.
“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”
“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”
“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”
A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.
The fact that she did not look the part.
She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame. 
“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”
The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.
“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”
“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”
“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.
Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own. 
“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”
“Aye. Good things I hope?"
“Mostly.”
A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”
Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“So, Freyja… like the–?”
A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”
Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”
“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.
”D’ya think I could take him?”
”Probably not.”
Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”
Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”
“Lieutenant.”
The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”
“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”
Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”
“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.
“What was that about?”
Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”
They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.
Nothing.
Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.
But no, he just had to snoop.
He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.
“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”
“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”
“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”
Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?
“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”
So he knows her husband. Interesting. 
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”
Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago. 
He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”
“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”
Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”
She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth. 
She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.
Real polite.
~*~
“Alpha-One, in position.”
“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”
“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”
“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”
Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed. 
Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”
“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”
“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.
“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”
“Ghost?” Price this time. 
Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”
“Affirmative.”
“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.
Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”
“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”
“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”
“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.
She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”
The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.
“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.
“Roger. Breaching.”
On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.
Reinforcements.
“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”
“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”
“Alpha-Two, how copy?”
The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”
Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”
Silence.
“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”
Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.
“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.
“All due respect, Price, get bent.”
Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…
The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…
Right?
Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”
Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.
“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.
“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.
~*~
The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.
What the fuck?
At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”
“Simon, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”
“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”
Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.
“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”
“Bloody hell…”
He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!” 
“She was told not to leave her post–”
“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”
Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?
“Simon.”
Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.
He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.
Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed. 
Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.
She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”
“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”
She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.
“I’d like an apology.”
“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”
“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”
“You love my mouth.”
“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”
Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”
“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.
Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”
Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."
The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.
“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”
“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”
“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.
“English, MacTavish.”
“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”
“Much better.”
He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.
“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.
Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”
“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”
“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”
Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.
A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”
“Not another word, Sergeant.”
A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.
“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”
Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”
“Yeah, Ghost?"
“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."
"Noted, sir."
Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.
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sky-is-the-limit · 5 months
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rodolfoparras · 7 months
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think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141
now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid
(feral anon)
(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)
(your posts cure my gender disphoria)
A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!
It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.
However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.
It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.
Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.
“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.
“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.
“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”
She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.
The next person to find out about it is Gaz.
141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.
Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.
“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.
Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.
“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”
“Already forgotten”
The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.
“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.
Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.
“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”
Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.
“I do, sir”
“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”
“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.
Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”
Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.
Oh.
The wife.
The ring.
The captain is married.
“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”
“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.
“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”
Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”
Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”
Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.
Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.
“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.
“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”
Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”
“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.
Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”
“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”
As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.
Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.
The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.
Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.
With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.
However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.
“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.
Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.
“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”
Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.
“Captain wants to see us in his office”
And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.
It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.
Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.
Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.
“Come in”
The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.
“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”
The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.
“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.
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ghouljams · 2 months
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“#distribution system is a pillow Princess/sub!ghost fic”
😳 h-holy shit. I think the world went white when I read this. Like a flash bang went off. Oh my god.
You hold his face between your hands, your thumbs gently stroking over his scarred cheeks. Your eyes are so soft, they look at him like he's something fragile, something precious. Ghost holds your wrists like a lifeline, desperately begging to be grounded in this moment. Your lips move without sound, he wishes he could hear it, could hear your voice like the trumpets of revelations. The light shines behind your head like a halo, it must be a halo, divinity shining through your skin. Everything hurts.
"Stay with me," He begs, his throat dry and his bones aching.
"Of course," You pet over his buzzed hair, your voice as soft as early spring, "I'm not going anywhere."
You kiss his temple, let him settle his hands on your waist and lean into the touch, hungry for it. You're not going anywhere. He's not either, this is the last stop. He can just be here. Ghost traces his fingers over your skin with reverence, his eyes on yours as you tip his head back. It's good, you're finally in your rightful place over him, larger than life in all your kindness. He could let you swallow him whole, he wishes you would. Then he could be a part of you, a part of something worthwhile, something good and kind. Whatever he's done in life-
"Stay with me Simon," You murmur, as if he'd ever want to be anywhere else. Of course, he wants to echo, of course. You lean to brush your lips over his cheek, it hurts, white hot just under his eye. You slice your line through him, ask again, your voice so distant and yet so close beside his ear, "Stay with me."
His lips move around your name, breathe in, exhale. His hands hold you, drag over your skin as he tips his head to press his lips against your neck. Can he have this? Is this allowed? Are apostles meant to worship their god through such sinful means? He slides his hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers through the wet heat he finds there. You're so soft.
You whine, such a pretty noise, and he kisses you again. He mumbles your name against your skin, traces his lips against your pulse, desperate to feel your life. Everything he does is for you, every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, each blink, each touch of his fingers. Nothing matters to him like you do. You're so warm, dripping over his hand, the noises your sweet pussy make when he presses his fingers into you are perfect, and obscene.
"My Simon," You breathe, "You're so good for me." It hurts between his ribs, cracks his sternum, you could take him apart with so many words. "You never tell me what you want," You coo, "Never ask for anything."
"Want to make you come," He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of it, he doesn't deserve to ask for your love, but he can approximate it, "want to be useful to you."
"You are, Simon," You whisper, he jerks against you at the jolt that goes through him, "because I love you."
It spins in his mind like tires stuck in mud. It's not right. He wants it too badly for it to be right. You couldn't. Even when he was leaving you couldn't. Ghost swallows. It's cold in here.
He blinks his eyes open to a hospital ceiling. Everything hurts. He reaches his hand to feel whatever is covering his left eye with a grunt of pain. His fingers twitch and another sharp jolt of pain zips through him.
"I wouldn't," Price tells him. Ghost turns his head to look at him, adjusting to the new blind spot. He's sitting in an arm chair beside the hospital bed, his chin perched on his palm, fingers curled over his mouth and leg bouncing. Ghost wonders how long it's been since his last cigar. Price sniffs. "Down two fingers, gonna hurt for a while."
Ghost turns his head to look back at the ceiling. The fluorescents buzz, a whine only he ever seems able to hear. At least the sky would've been a nice thing to end on.
"Nearly lost you on the table," Price continues, Ghost can hear him standing, "I'll let the nurse know you're up."
Ghost swallows again, tries to feel his tongue in his mouth, so dry it may as well glue itself to his teeth. "Where's my wife," He croaks. Price's footsteps stop, something heavy falling over the air. There are a thousand things he could say, a thousand comforts he could offer.
"You're not married," He tells him, and leaves.
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gauloiseblue · 2 months
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I feel like Price would stop smoking for his partner, not out of love (although it's always about love when it comes to her, but this time, it's an indirect result of it), but out of concern.
The thing is, Price loves a headstrong woman, but marrying her is a double-edged sword. One side, her loyalty is unwavering, but so is her will.
She hated it when he smoked, it made everything around him smell terrible. Not only that, it's slowly taking away his beautiful voice.
She'd say that it's going to take him away from her, or that their days together will be shortened if he keeps smoking his cigar. But he'd comfort her by saying that 'he's a healthy man' and 'he'll probably live longer than her'.
Of course, she didn't buy into his reasons.
After months of persuasion, she decided that it's not enough and stepped up her game.
One morning, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and begins to smoke at breakfast.
To this day, nothing beats his surprised face that morning.
When he asks her why she starts to smoke, she gives him all of his answers to the same questions.
It makes me relaxed. It helps me focus better. Just feel like it.
And when she's feeling a little mean, she'll say; "You know I'll follow you anywhere. If you decide you wanna leave the earth faster, so do I."
And that horrifies him,
The thing is, they both knew that she did it out of spite. She hates the bitter taste of nicotine, and she despises the smell as it gets into her hair everytime. But she keeps going, to the point that she'll buy the non-filter cigarettes.
That's when he decides to stop.
(If anyone asks him what's his biggest weakness is, he'd say it's his wife and her guts.)
He stops smoking almost immediately—not reducing his nicotine doses gradually, but straight up stopping at once.
Of course, after years of addiction, it'll be hard for him to cope with the withdrawal syndrome. He'll get a bad headache, mood swings, and a nasty cough. He'd come back to his old way, if not for his wife's support.
She compensates him by cooking him delicious meals, listens to him when he's stressed, and lets him have his way with her whenever he wants.
Months passed, and he began to feel better. Although he doesn't want to admit it, he does feel that his health is improving. He can run faster, he's experiencing less fatigue, and his mind becomes clearer without the help of nicotine.
His relationship also improves, as she doesn't mind kissing him for hours. They'll go for rounds, to the point that it's tiring her out. Which is a surprise, since she has good stamina.
The boys weren't shocked when they first learnt about it, they said it's bound to happen, sooner or later. Though Soap wasn't happy with it, as he lost the bet with Gaz.
Overall, he's happy with the results. What more can he ask? He already has a loving wife <3
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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price’s secret wife…just some comfort and fluff tbh
john heard a small knock, then the sound of his door being opened slowly, as if not to disturb. he tried to quell the adrenaline rush in his body, the need to tackle an incoming threat. it could only be one person, the one person he kept his door unlocked for.
there you were, his old oversized tshirt and boxers serving as your pajamas. you only wore them when you needed comfort, and when you were off duty. you were the one concerned with how it would look to the other soldiers on base, a female officer wearing her coworker’s name on the back of her shirt. if only they knew it was your legal name too. you perched comfortably on his bed, too tired to properly acknowledge him. he turned off his desk light, abandoning his paperwork in favor of his wife. his first and only priority. john sat next to you, spreading his thighs to make his lap bigger as he left his hands at his sides. he knew you like the back of his hand, knew you needed to sit in silence sometimes. you drained your social battery all day, giving out orders and dealing with subordinates. john was your rock, your lighthouse in the sea of duty. you leaned your head on his shoulder, the top of it scratching his beard. he leaned his on top of yours, taking your calloused hand into his own. he traced the lines of your palm slowly, pressing slightly to massage it. you hummed and he placed a kiss on your head, glad you were warming up out of your trance. “john…” you whispered, tucking your chin. “love?” he was a bit worried now. you still hadn’t looked at him.
your hand left his in favor of his shoulder as you turned your body to straddle him, your favorite seat in the world. you crossed your legs around him as you tucked your head into his neck, your hands exploring the taut muscles of his back. “hi baby.” you said into his neck, placing a kiss into the juncture of his neck, where his beard met smooth skin. his hands finally settled on your waist, massaging the skin there. “rough day?” you nuzzled further into him, giving him small nods as you tried to disappear into your husband and his comforting touch, “lost our target. set us back 3 months.” he hummed thoughtfully, his right hand leaving your waist as he threaded his fingers into your hair. his thumbs pressed against your scalp as you let out a small moan, becoming putty in his hands.
“‘s not your fault.”
“i know. still feels like it.”
“i know.”
the silence was comfortable, a warm blanket on a rainy day. your husband was a strong man, always strong for his task force, for the duty required of him. he hid it well, disarming with his muttonchops and fatherly nature, but there was stone under him, a fortress. with you, though, he was just a man with his wife. selfishly indulgent and unselfishly caring, open in only places you could reach.
“when are we retiring? getting that cottage where we always talked about.” he let out a small chuckle, kissing the crown of your head as he maneuvered to tuck you both in bed for the night. “whenever you want. you’re the one who keeps holding out.” he slipped you both under the covers. powerful arms able to keep you around him as he moved the blankets out of your way. “i know. seems like there’s always another mission. always another need to save the world.” his closeness wore you down, honesty running out of you like a faucet.
“what about our world? where we’re just husband and wife?” you hummed thoughtfully. john price was a man of duty, of loyalty, but at the end of the day, he had a man’s wants and needs. all he needed was you, safe, with him. “soon, baby. soon.” you weren’t lying. the next mission was your last. you needed him to yourself too much to pretend anymore. john was laying down now, your leg thrown over his legs as you spread your arms on his chest. “i love you.” you said into the darkness, eyes already closing at the comforting scent of his sheet detergent. “love you to the stars, sweetheart.” john price found elusive, peaceful sleep, comforted by your touch again.
are there two captains on the same base? i don’t care!
my first time writing price…tried to show his maturity without giving grandpa lol
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soapybutt17 · 3 months
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Baby Mama
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Summary: Downtime was rare and far in between, but with your maternity leave now done and over with, your husband thought it would be a good time as any to invite everyone to your shared home for a mini celebration. It should have also been a good idea to let everyone know about the small little fact that not everyone was made aware of your relationship or the fact that there was a sleeping baby upstairs that hated Soap’s boisterous laughter for some reason. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Farah Karim. Alex Keller. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,313 Chapter Warnings: None.
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“Sit down, Rookie. We’ve got it covered.”
You wanted to glare at your husband and the rest of the taskforce that had made it their mission to ensure you were not in-charge of handling meal preps for the upcoming party you and your husband had decided to start in celebration for both your return back to the base as well as the success of their previous mission.
“Why do I feel like a guest in my own home?” You playfully questioned as Gaz placed a cup of tea in front of you. A reassuring smile rested on his lips.
“You’ve been wide awake until the early morning taking care of the little girl sleeping upstairs. Quite frankly, we’d prefer you to sleep instead than deal with the rest of us here.” Gaz explained as he returned back to helping Soap with prepping for the marinade for the barbeque.
“I’ve dealt with worse.” You pouted, ignoring the pointed look on your husband knowing they were right.
“Just because you’ve dealt with it on missions doesn’t mean you should deal with it in our home, Darling.” John sighed wiping his hand to come sit beside you on backyard patio.
Since your maternity leave and your husband’s own paternity one, you’ve somehow gotten enough money and time to make some new renovations to the home. One that you were proud of the most was the patio that would not only be a place for you and your husband to enjoy for yourselves, but for the guest he was slowly but surely becoming welcome to inviting—especially now.
With Soap and Gaz prepping the marinate and vegetables and Simon dealing with most of the meat (surprised by the fact that he was once a butcher before joining the military), you and your husband were left to your own devices for a while.
“Little Katherine still asleep?” He inquired.
You turned your attention towards the baby monitor, seeing your daughter thankfully still asleep in her crib.
It still amazes you that this little human was a product of your love and devotion to your husband. Even with her arrival an unplanned surprise for the both of you, you’ve both taken it to stride and made the most out of the experience. Your husband hoping for another few along the way but you made him promise to wait until little Katherine was a little older first.
“Asleep for once.” You sighed resting your head against your husband’s shoulders as you two continued watching the boys helping out for the party. “Why are we letting them help us with our own party again?”
“They did this to themselves surprisingly. When they heard we’re having this party, they immediately worried about you and the baby and adding the mess of the party to the mix. You’ve got those boys wrapped around your fingers and it’s worrisome at times.”
You giggled nudging him slightly at this comment.
“Speaking of people wrapped around your fingers, Alejandro and Rudy will also be coming tonight.”
You smiled, happy to know more of the friends you’ve made during missions have also come to visit. Having missed your time on the base, having them here for a get together would be a treat. You would also be ignoring the implication of your husband’s words towards Las Almas’ Colonel and Sergeant Major.
Somehow, it had become a topic of discussion for the rest of the boys how the Colonel had a little crush on you which you thought was ridiculous. Alejandro Vargas was nothing but professional to you and to the rest of the team. As far as you know, the man was just a little appreciative of the help you had given to them during Grave’s takeover of his base all those months ago, nothing more.
“You think Kate, Farah, and Alex would be able to visit too?” You inquired.
“They’re already on their flight here.” He smiled arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Kate’s been bugging me about the house when I told him about the renovations.”
You shook your head already imagining how much teasing Kate probably needed to do for him to finally relent in having the party here instead of renting a place.
A sudden thought had popped into your head as you turned directly towards your husband.
“Hold on, aside from the three boys, who else knows about our relationship?” You inquired.
He blinked only realizing himself that he hasn’t gotten around and told anyone about the two of you. Everyone had become aware of him having a wife and the paternity leave he had to take meant everyone was also aware that he was a new father, but no one not even Kate was made aware that you were the wife and the mother of his six-month old daughter.
“John did you not tell them yet?” You questioned.
“I may or may not have forgotten to tell everyone.” He grinned sheepishly.
Before you could give him an earful, the sound of your daughter’s cries halted you from your actions. You’ve all but noticed the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Oh you’re going to get back at him for this somehow. You just know it.
~
“Rookie, it’s good to finally see you. How’s the leave been?”
Captain John Price was a lot of things. He was a patient man. He could be a brash man. He was a man that commands respect and authority. But in this very moment as you wore his favorite sun dress on you, he knew he could not be all of those things.
He was being punished. It was a certain and each and every single men of his Taskforce knows about it as well. It had honestly and genuinely slipped his mind, with both the past mission and his need to finally be back at home, he never had the time to orient everyone and anyone involved at base about his relationship and marriage to you until now that is.
“Good to see you and the wife too.” You smiled turning your eyes towards your husband pointedly before beginning an animated conversation with Kate and her wife.
John and the rest of the boys were in charge of grilling and giving everyone refreshments. You had decided it was your job to be a good host to everyone as people were slowly but surely filling his home.
“Someone’s sleeping in the couch tonight then?” It was Simon that pointed it out and John could only glare at the man as he continued on with flipping the steaks.
All three of the boys had become aware of the pettiness you could dish out towards their Captain. It wasn’t so often that it happens but the paradigm shift of their Captain not truly being in charge as soon as he was in the confinements of his own home.
“Happy wife, happy life.” John found himself speaking as his attention was still set on the grill.
His own anxiety somehow spiked up the moment an all too familiar Spanish endearment had escapade from the Las Almas-native. Alejandro Vargas was fashionably late as ever.
He had ordered Simon to continue on with cooking as he made his way towards where Alejandro was now in a full discussion with you. It didn’t escape John’s eyes the smoldering look the Colonel was giving his wife. What annoyed him even more was how much you were unbothered—or rather, unaware of it on your own end. Giving the man a smile and those warm gaze that was somewhat always reserved for him and the rest of his men.
“Good to see you, Alejandro.” John had interrupted your little conversation.
“Price. It’s good to see you again, Hermano.” The man chuckled enveloping him into a hug for a moment.
Even with the conversation that now began between him and the Colonel, It didn’t miss his gaze how the both of them would glance right at you as you now stood beside John and joining in on the conversation. It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how your hand held onto his arm, showcasing the often concealed engagement ring and wedding ring he had gifted you all those years ago when he proposed and made you his wife.
“I see you’ve gotten married while on break, it seems congratulations are in order.” Alejandro finally acknowledge the elephant in the room taking everyone’s notice as well.
“Actually,” You trailed off turning your head towards him, a playful smile on your lips almost waiting for him to make the acknowledgement instead.
“We—we just had a baby.” John finally admits at the same time the sound of the baby monitor going off.
Everyone was silent aside from Soap and Gaz’s cackles. With a relieved smile you excused yourself to get the baby for everyone to meet leaving John on the hotseat, especially at the hands of both Kate and Farah.
“Hold on, since when have you and Rookie been in a relationship?” Kate questioned, a big smile playing on her face. Oh he could already see the array of torment that was to come during missions with this tidbit about his personal life.
“Since I was a Sergeant and she was a newly appointed Lieutenant.” John sighed scratching his beard and knowing full well you were taking your sweet time with your daughter leaving him to the wolves. “Married for fourteen years.” He added, being all too reminded of the fact that as soon as he had finished up with the mission that saved both Farah and her brother all those years ago, he knew it in his heart that there would never be a perfect time for the two of you to marry but in that very moment in your humble apartment in the heart of London all those years ago.
“Fuck, I lost the bet then.” Alex interrupted the moment of shock still resting on everyone as he handed Farah a few quid which she happily took with a smug smile on her face.
“Well I appreciate the bets being thrown around about my personal life.” He muttered.
“I’ve always knew something was going on with the two of you, Old man.” Farah pointed out. “It was just a matter of determining what status the two of you were to each other at this point.”
So much for acting low key about his relationship.
The hot seat was now away from him as you walked back out with the prettiest little baby he had ever seen in his life (he was bias definitely as this was his child after all). Woken up from her nap, John could see his daughter still cranky as you continued to coo her.
“Just woke up from her nap.” You excuse immediately handing the baby to him. A smile resting on his lips now as how easy it was to calm his daughter in his hands. How quick it was for her own similar blue eyes to lock onto him for comfort and safety. It was all he could ever give and more to both of his girls.
“Looks just like you, Cap.” Alex pointed out earning a snort out of you and a proud chuckle out of John.
It was an ongoing banter between the two of you, how you complain about carrying your daughter for nine months only for her to look just like him. But his daughter has your eyes and he was all too certain would be used against him when she learns how to do the puppy dog eyes when she grows up.
“Cries like him too.” Simon quipped earning a pointed look from John and giggle from you and laughter from everyone else.
At the booming laughter of one Soap MacTavish, the first line of tears had burst out of his daughter and you and John had given the man a glare as he began to coo his daughter from her tears.
~
To say freely acting like a husband and wife in front of most of your coworkers was awkward but a little refreshing to say the least. With your daughter pawned off to her uncles for the next hour or two, it meant you and your husband could freely socialize with the rest of the team in attendance.
“Still can’t believe you two were able to keep it hidden for so long.” It was Kate that finally broke the ice.
“Less hassle for either of us.” John shrugged off, pulling you closer to him.
It was all the more refreshing to see this side of him that no one usually sees. With you sitting on his lap on the love seat as you continued on with your conversation with Kate. How he would do anything and everything in his power to have you close to him, touching any skin he gets his hands on—at this moment it was his hands on your thighs as he held onto them to support you.
“That the reason why you dragged her along with you the TF?” She inquired, playfully.
“One of the reasons, but not the top reason.” John assured.
It was still much of a surrealistic moment when you were called one day by Kate about the Taskforce your husband was forming. You, of all people knew that he wanted to make sure that your lines of work and personal life were separate. But somehow, your capabilities overrode those principles you both have made to each other.
You did your job, quiet well too, so it wasn’t much of a worry that your relationship and association to the man would be also place under scrutiny now when all was said and done. It wasn’t much of an issue when most, if not all of the people in the base had already been calling the both of you as work spouses to each other.
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moralesispunk · 1 month
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John Price x wife x Simon becoming a throuple is funny because the men have completely opposite sex drives but it somehow still works (it almost works because of that) (John x wife x Simon all links here)
NSFW MNDI
John who, despite being the oldest in your relationship, is the one who is horny all the time. He's the one who gets hard the second he sees you. He's the one who could go three rounds back to back, not including the round in bed when you first woke up or the one in the shower after it.
Simon, on the other hand, who is fine having sex a few times a week. He thinks you're beautiful, gorgeous, the most perfect person he's ever seen, but his body just doesn't work like that. He's more about softer intimacy.
John who has your face pressed into the mattress and his hips knocking into yours, finger tip bruises on your hips and thighs.
Simon who lifts you onto his lap, letting John kneel between his legs as he continues to fuck into you, but holding you there laying on his chest and kissing you slowly as your body is bouncing on John's cock.
John who finishes but then instantly hardens inside of you, pulling your hips down against him as he makes you come two more times so he can fill you again.
Simon who finishes but then immediately softens, yet he still keeps himself inside you until he slips out because he just wants to keep you close and warm.
And this is fine because you love it both ways, you love both of them, but one time you have to go away for work for a couple of days and you find Simon passed out on the sofa when you get home, a hand thrown over his eyes like he can block out all the looks John throws him as he tries to drag the big man back to bed again, but who smiles beneath his arm when he wakes to the sound of John already bending you over the kitchen counter.
He gets up, standing to lean against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle over the other, watching as you and John both come with shouts of how much you missed each other before he stalks over, holding your face in his hand and kissing you softly as John cleans you up, whispering how much he missed you
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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Let's Have a Baby 2.0
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
Simon Riley did not cry when his first daughter was born.
He didn’t know how to process his grief amid his love’s agony and emptiness. She spent days on end, curled into the plush rocker in the corner of the empty nursery or lying flat on her back, staring at the white ceiling. His guilt was no match for her shame – as she clutched the tiny hospital blanket to her chest, sobbing that she couldn’t name her. Couldn’t name the daughter that they didn’t get to bring home.
Her wails – I’m sorry I’m weak, Please don���t hate me, I'm fucking useless – echoed in Simon’s mind when he named that baby. He knew, in his heart, that Freyja loved her with her entire being, everything she had. He knew that, if she could, she would have picked the most beautiful name, better than anything he could have come up with on his own. So he named her after his wife, so his daughter would never leave his mind.
When Joan Vanadís was born, Simon stared at her for hours. He memorized every detail of her soft features, inhaled her scent, and poured over her deep brown eyes and button nose. His wife barely got to hold her in her first day of life. Sure, he had cried, as many fathers do in the delivery room. He was completely unsure of how it was possible that he helped create this beautiful, innocent little person.
But his son, oh his son, was an entirely different animal.
Where Joanie came roaring into the world, Arthur Simon was quiet. Quiet like his father, but the spitting image of his mum, minus Simon’s curved nose (Poor thing, he thought). The gentle cry from such a delicate thing broke whatever terrified stupor he’d been in since learning that they were having a boy. The doctor placed the blue bundle on his wife’s chest, and he instantly broke down. The ‘big bad Ghost’ was a blubbering mess as their son’s small hand curled into her skin, his eyes closed, and his mouth curled into a frown. He hesitated, hand hovering over the boy until Freyja’s came and pressed his palm into the tiny body, much smaller than Joanie’s when she was born. The steady rhythm of Arthur’s little lungs working underneath his fingertips made something inside his chest snap and crumble into dust.
Whatever fear he had about having a son was gone. As he had promised their daughters, he again swore that he would be better. Better than his father. He promised he would raise Arthur the way he should have been.
In the months that followed, taking care of his son healed a piece of Simon Riley. A piece that needed the father he had fought so hard to be.
The newborn seemed to have that effect on people, particularly overgrown men.
Arthur’s godfathers and grandfather returned to England about three months after he was born. Johnny brought his partners by the second they stepped off the plane, not even offering time to dress down in civilian clothes.
König was the first in the house, carrying his and Roach’s duffels as Johnny snuck in a moment alone with their partner outside. Freyja appeared, almost making him jump out of his skin at her sudden appearance.
“Herrgott, Kapitän!” he cried, hand on his pounding heart. “You scared me.”
Freyja had Artie strapped to her chest, sucking happily on his pacifier as he stared up at her face. He was already a certifiable mama’s boy, always enamored with her and clinging to her at every waking moment (and then some). “Oh, thank god,” she sighed, unraveling the fabric from her waist and shoulders. “I need a nap.”
His eyes blew wide through the holes of his hood, and he quickly stepped back. “Nein, Freyja, ich will ihn erschrecken—”
“König, nimm deinen Patensohn.” She didn’t allow him any time to hesitate, pressing the baby against his chest. The Austrian immediately dropped the bags from his shoulders, wrapped one arm under the baby’s bum, and rested one large hand against his back.
“Freyja–!”
She was gone.
König desperately wanted to give him back. He couldn’t take the heartbreak of another kid, especially his own nephew, staring at him with pure terror, trying to get away to safety. But this child, a sweet thing, had easily and without hesitation reached for him when Freyja moved to hand him off. It was as if he already sensed that his mom would never hand him off to someone that didn’t have her full trust.
He had gotten used to Joan by that point, but she was almost a year old when he saw her last. And she was much bigger than the infant boy in his arms, done up in an (admittedly) adorable, light blue onesie, with stripes nearly resembling those of the Scotland flag (Soap most definitely bought it for that reason and that reason alone). What if he dropped him? What if he held him too tight? What if he moved and hit Arthur’s head on something? What if–
A small tug caught his attention, his mask shifting downward. König glanced down at the boy curiously pulling the thing toward his mouth, which he put a stop to. “Iss das nicht, welpe. Du weißt nicht, wo es war,” he whispered, using a finger to nudge Arthur’s fist away from his mouth.
They simply stared at each other, the man holding the baby’s gaze, surprised that the little one was tolerating it. Then in a shocking turn of events, Art jerked the fabric up and over his head, making cooing and gurgling sounds that resembled an attempt at a laugh. Both under the hood now, König froze for a moment, completely and utterly bewildered. No grown adult, let alone an infant, had ever warmed up to the giant so quickly, immediately. Artie made another noise, and beyond his control, tears started to flow freely down his paint-smudged cheeks, a huge smile lighting up their dark cavern.
As König sobbed and shook, he pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, trembling body clinging to his godson like a lifeline.
König didn’t know how long he stood there with gentle but clumsy hands palming his scars and features, reveling in the attention. He never wanted it to end. He didn’t fail to notice what felt like Ghost’s hand on his opposite shoulder, brief but definitely present; then, the familiar press of Johnny’s cheek between his shoulder blades and the imprint of his firm hands on his hips.
Yeah, you could say Arthur Simon had a gift for healing.
.
.
.
“Uh oh, Dada!”
Freyja chuckled at her husband’s exasperated expression, staring at the ceiling as the plastic cup bounced across the floor. Simon had spent the last ten minutes trying to slice up an orange for Joan, who, in that time, had thrown the loose cereal onto the floor, tossed her plastic fork across the room, and finally dumped the cup of water into his lap.
“Yeah, uh oh,” he sighed, bending to pick up the cup but not bothering with his now-soaked pants. “Lovie, I’m almost done. You have to be patient. We don’t throw things.”
“No!”
“Look, Joanie, here.” Simon broke a wedge off and held it out for her. Two little hands took the fruit, holding the rind as Joan gummed at the soft flesh. “Can you say, ‘Thank you, Daddy’?”
“No!”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Arthur rested quietly in his mother’s arms with his cheek pressed against her breast as he dozed after finishing a bottle. Some mothers would have found Arthur’s level of attachment overwhelming; he rarely wanted to be put down, oftentimes crying out for her even when handed off to Simon. Similar to how Joanie gravitated to her father, Artie clung to her, and Freyja took pride in that.
When she looked up from her son, she found Simon had stripped out of his soiled sweatpants and now sat in only black boxer briefs. It was an unusually lazy day due to the poor weather outside. Simon got the kids up and fed at the usual time but didn’t do much to dress them, opting for fresh onesies. Joan’s was a dark navy, while Art’s was cream with mini tan teddy bears.
Joanie finished the orange slice quickly and placed the rind on her plate. She balled one hand into a fist and slapped the top with an open palm in a jerky movement. “Dada, more.”
“That’s right, ‘more’,” he praised, mimicking the sign for her. “Good job asking. Here.”
He placed the rest of her snack on the tray, and she immediately started nibbling at one. Simon leaned forward with his forearm on his knee, getting to eye level with the girl. “I’d really like an orange. Could you share with Daddy, lovie?” he asked while offering a hand. They had quickly learned to keep her hands occupied and practice hand-eye coordination in constructive ways, rather than letting her get bored. That was when she tended to start throwing things, as demonstrated by Simon’s now discarded pants.
She seemed to consider it, before dropping the piece she had already half finished in his palm and grabbing another.
“I meant one that wasn’t half-eaten, but this’ll do. Thank you.” He met Freyja’s eyes, his cheeks tight with laughter as he finished the fruit. 
The rain thundered against the glass windows, filling the space behind Joanie’s giggles at the funny faces Simon made. Her clothed feet kicked the legs of her chair. It was there – in their kitchen on a rainy Tuesday afternoon – Freyja realized just how content she was with the life they had built together. Observing her husband as he wiped the sticky juices dribbling down their daughter’s chin and pushed her blonde curls back; her touch brushing their son’s warm, squishy cheek with her thumb.
She soaked in the atmosphere a moment longer before speaking. “Simon?”
“Yeah, love?”
“I think Artie’s my last.” Her voice was quiet, almost unsure. They’d never really discussed just how many kids they wanted. Against his initial fears, Simon was a natural; he was just as much in his element taking care of their kids as he was on the battlefield. She didn’t want to take that away if he wanted more, but she honestly couldn’t go through it again. Recovering from a c-section royally sucked, but giving birth naturally was not an option.
Simon’s brows pinched together as he swiveled away from Joanie, searching her face. He watched how her careful fingers stroked Arthur’s face, her other hand wrapped around the baby’s thigh to secure him to her. Her touch slid down to his chest, measuring his tiny heartbeat and steady breaths. He often did the same with both of their children; the gesture grounded him in their reality, and he figured it did the same for her. “Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll call for an appointment to get snipped.”
He said it as if he were talking about grabbing a takeaway on his way home from work, which gave Freyja a slight shock.
“Just like that?” she asked, turning in her chair to face him better. “Are you sure?”
“You’ve given me three beautiful babies,” Simon cooed, reaching to drag his large hands up and down her thighs. Freyja melted into his touch, legs spreading so his knee could slot between hers. “S’the least I can do. If you’re done, so am I. I had a feeling, anyway.”
“A vasectomy just seems a bit extreme. Maybe we can just use condoms?”
He raised a brow at her with an upside-down grin, challenging her. “Do you wanna try that again, with feeling? Look me in the eye and tell me you’re never gonna let me cum in you, ever again?”
“...Birth control?”
“Remind me, how did we have our daughters?”
“I hate you.”
“But I’m right.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Still right, though.” Simon rose from the table and leaned over her, resting his weight on one hand next to her thigh. He slipped the other around the back of her neck and tilted her head up, stealing a long, slow kiss. He muttered, “I’ll go next week,” against her lips before resuming, tongue gently prodding her bottom lip.
Freyja broke away and glanced up at him through her lashes with a teasing look. “You sure you can last that long without sex?”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz shipped out to replace the other half of the task force a few days later. They were only gone for two weeks, executing the final excursion to retrieve a stolen weapons cache. König, Roche, and Price had done most of the leg work but decided that the sergeants and lieutenant were better equipped for the situation at hand. 
Johnny’s demolition expertise certainly came in handy this time around.
Still, Simon was sore and aching for the comfort of holding his kids and wife after what felt like the longest two weeks of his life. It was their first time leaving both babies with the other parent since Arthur was born.
Unlike his last time returning from a mission, the house was quiet, which allowed him time to take his boots off at the door and shed his mask. König’s car was parked in their driveway, leading him to believe the operative was spending the night in their guest room. Whether Roach was there too, he didn’t know.
The hall light at the top of the stairs flicked on, and Freyja appeared in a silky nightgown, standing on the last step with a tired smile and messy hair.
Simon stopped at the bottom of the stairs and hummed while his eyes roamed her body with a dopey smile.
“Welcome back,” she whispered, locking her fingers behind his neck to tilt his head back, giving him access to slot their lips together. Freyja moaned quietly at the firm hands on her hips and thighs, gripping and digging into the soft flesh. “How’d it go?”
He shrugged and pressed another chaste kiss to her lips, humming against them. “No snags. Soap got to blow stuff up.” Simon’s mouth trailed down her jaw, throat, and chest, gentle and loving.
Her fingertips brushed a gash on his cheek. Most likely from shrapnel, if its depth and jagged edges were any indicators.
“M’fine, love.”
“Joanie’s out cold, but Artie’s awake if you wanna see him. I just finished feeding him.”
That woke him up a little bit. A soft breath of air tickled the wet spots on Freyja’s skin from his silent chuckle. Simon’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he nuzzled his face in her chest as he soaked in her presence. They’d gone more extended periods without seeing each other, but whether they were apart for a week or a few months, he still missed her like crazy.
“She doing better in her room?”
“Much. She’s having some nightmares but goes back down eventually. She’s having a good night.”
“Mmm, in that case, I won’t wake her. We can surprise her in the mornin’.”
When Freyja turned to lead him upstairs, he couldn’t help himself as his hand swung up and connected with her ass, a sharp CRACK! resonating through the air.
“Simon!”
“M’sorry, couldn’t help it. You left yourself wide open on that one,” he teased, his voice low to not wake their daughter or guests. As expected, Arthur’s quiet coos reached his ears the closer they got to their bedroom. Simon dropped his gear by their bedroom door and approached the bassinet on Freyja’s side of the bed. The little boy stared in his general direction, wiggling like a (precious) worm.
The man beamed down at him and carefully slid his hands under Artie’s back with his thumbs hooked under the infant’s arms, lifting him out of the crib. “Hi, beautiful boy,” he mumbled, pressing his pursed lips against his cheek, leaving multiple kisses in the same spot. He held his son back out for a moment, a confused expression on his face once he pulled away.
“Where’d it go?”
Freyja shifted to her knees on their bed and rested her chin on his shoulder, peering down at their son. “What?”
“The baby scrunch.”
“Huh. You’re right. I didn’t even notice.”
“I just…last time I held him, he still curled up. I missed it,” he said, a grown man literally pouting.
“I know…” She let her hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest. “I’m sorry, Si. I know it sucks. Being away comes with the job, and that means we miss things. We’ve been lucky so far with Joanie, honestly.”
Arthur had quieted down, sucking his pacifier as he studied Simon’s painted face and clinging to his shirt.
A knock at the doorframe caught their attention, and all three turned to the source. König rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bare feet padding across the carpet until he reached them. “Hello, Lieutenant. Did the operation bode well?”
“Yeah, everything was just as you said it – was…”
The baby had started to whine again and let go of his dad, reaching for his uncle with grabby hands. The man’s face flushed, but he didn’t make a move to take the baby. Once the shock wore off, Simon took the initiative to hand Art off, and König gladly received him.
He immediately settled again, laying his head back in the crook of König’s elbow, humming softly against his pacifier. “Hallo, welpe,” he said in a hushed tone, rocking his nephew gently.
“Well, that’s new,” Simon grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed to avoid awkwardly standing there. Simon wasn’t too annoyed, but he was somewhat sad. He had missed his babies dearly and looked forward to some serious attention. But his usually shy baby, who never wanted to be handed off to anyone besides his mother and occasionally Simon, was suddenly choosing their friend over him.
How much had he missed in such a short amount of time?
“I apologize, sir. I am as surprised as you are. He’s a good boy; I think we have been around so much the last two weeks…”
“König.”
“Ja?”
“Drop the sir. We’re not on base. I’m not mad.”
König blinked at him, confused. “It’s… Scheiße, wie sagt man ‘gebräuchlich’ auf Englisch? Ich weiß es nicht. It is normal to use sir where I’m from.”
Simon glared back. “And this is my house. You’ve done as my wife has said to gain my son’s affection. So now, you will do what I say to get back in my good graces after robbing me of my child. Are we clear?”
“I feel…bad. Please, take him back–”
He shook his head and stood again, scratching at the light stubble that had formed on his cheeks over the last few days. “And I’m telling you, no. It’s fine. I have to shower anyway.”
“Alles klar.”
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cobwebs-in-autumn · 7 months
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Price finds out that Simon has a little (massive) crush on you, the Captain’s wife, and decides that his lieutenant deserves something nice. He’s such a good obedient soldier and he’s been through so much. Price feels like letting him come into the house and use your body as you sleep is the least that he could do for Simon. Except one day he’s a little too rough and wakes you up. :( Now Price has to try and calm you down as you cry and scream, kissing the tears away as he tells you that Simon’s sorry, he’ll be gentler now. He only wants to make you feel good. You’ll learn to like it, to like him. Just give him a chance. 🧡
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random0lover · 1 year
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Hi! I was wondering if u can write how simon ghost riley reacts to if u want to fem!reader being all dolled up for an event or sumn. you imagine the rest 😭😭😭😭😭. love ur writing btw 🙏
A Day for First’s and Adding a Second
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x wife fem!reader
Summary: It’s your and Simon’s son’s kindergarten graduation so you have to dress nicely and Simon loves it. Also a little surprise at the end.
Word Count: 1,686
Warnings: slightly NSFW (grinding while fully clothed) so 18+, established relationship, fluff at the end, reader is called love once, Simon being all hot and bothered, Price is your dad 🫣, pregnancy mentioned towards the end, is fem!reader and should be POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡
Notes: This is my first Simon fic and I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me adores it and the other thinks it’s trash, either way I wanted to respond to this request as it’s so sweet and the idea is adorable. I hope I was able to do your request justice my love! Also flashback are in italics.
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You don’t often dress fancy but today your and Simon’s son was going to be graduating kindergarten. He goes to a private school at the moment so there were certain expectations and dress codes that you had to follow whether you wanted to or not.
The kids were all to wear navy blues and the parents were all to wear white or black. Everyone dressing formally.
You were currently getting ready in yours and Simons shared bathroom while Simon was helping your son finish getting ready.
You decided pretty quickly that while you would’ve loved to wear a white dress, being around children for up to three hours did not go well with the color white.
So you went with a black dress that reached right above your knees with loose sleeves that went down your arms to help make sure that you wouldn’t be cold with a neckline that was set right above your chest. The dress wasn’t to form fitting so that you would be able to sit for an hour or two without being uncomfortable or feeling constricted.
You were just finishing up your preferred makeup look when there was a light tap at the bathroom door.
You call out a small come in but start digging through the jewelry box on the counter that Simon had slowly been filling up over the years that you had been together no matter how much you protested against it.
You heard the door click open but didn’t hear Simon come in but you could feel his presence there, you always could.
“Hey Si, which necklace do you think I should wear?” You’re holding a necklace in each hand. The one in your right hand was the first necklace he had ever gotten you for your 6 month anniversary. It had two pear-shaped diamonds at the center surrounded by round-cut diamonds on a sterling silver chain.
The one in your left was a necklace that had been passed down through your family line and not too long ago your dad gifted it to you as a birthday present. It has 20 round shaped diamonds and in the center sits an oval shaped diamond with a white gold setting on a Singapore chain.
You usually didn’t have a hard time choosing a piece of jewelry but today you were slightly conflicted and his silence wasn’t helping.
You finally look up from the jewelry in your hand to look into the mirror and find Simon leaning against the bathroom door frame in an all black suit with gloves to match. He usually wears a black face mask out in public but he doesn’t have it on yet leaving it off until you were all ready to leave.
You feel his gaze slide along your body leaving a hot trail in its wake and you patiently wait until his eyes connect with yours in the mirror. Once they do you can’t help the sharp breath that escapes your mouth from the intense look he is holding in his dark brown hues.
A hum starts in your core when he steps towards you in three large steps and slightly leans his weight into you causing you to lean over the counter slightly.
You squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the heat surrounding you. Your lips part in a silent gasp when he slides his hand down your spine leaving it to settle on your hip and in the same moment runs his mouth along the arch of your neck and up to your ear.
“If we didn’t have somewhere to be I would take my time ravishing you against this sink.” His deep voice wraps around your body making goosebumps trail the lengths of your arms.
The impact of his words on your hazy brain makes you grind back against him, he lets out a small groan and rocks his hips into you while tightening his grip on your hip and pulling you back against him causing the perfect amount of friction.
You’re both lost in the moment trying to keep your moans and his grunts as quiet as possible so that your son didn’t hear.
Your body is getting hotter the longer you both claw at each other. It has been too long since the last time you’ve had the chance to feel each other's skin without being interrupted. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his breath is puffing at your ear and he’s pulling you into him harder and harder, almost lifting your feet up off the ground.
Your ears are starting to ring from the pleasure and the rope in your stomach that is pulling taut when you hear little feet running across the house combined with giggling when you yank yourself away from Simon and open your eyes for the first time since this whole ordeal started.
You're busy trying to fix your dress and Simon is adjusting the bugle in his slacks when you hear the running stop outside yours and Simon's shared room before picking up again and the giggling sounding farther away.
He’s staring at you again when you look up at him making the fire in your body that was slowly sizzling out to start up again.
“The one your dad gave you.” You look at him confused for a moment and he smirks lightly, “the necklace.”
You look over at the two necklaces that had been carelessly tossed onto the counter during your moment. You pick up the necklace he said and offer it to him while moving your hair out of the way making your neck available for him.
You face the mirror and once he’s behind you you look into his eyes in the mirror, “Speaking of my dad,” you let out a sigh,”he offered to babysit tonight.”
He pauses mid wrapping the chain around your neck, his eyebrows lifting, “Price actually offered to watch him?”
You roll your eyes, “How many years have we been together and how old is our son now? I’m pretty sure my dad being mad at you is gone by now.”
He latches the necklace and slides his hand around you to grip your chin making sure your eyes stay connected in the mirror, “I don’t know,” he moves his mouth right up against your ear making you shiver, “I can still hear how mad he was when he found out his lieutenant was doing more than helping his captain's daughter move into her new flat.”
You sigh, mind flashing back to the day that all the tension between you and Simon finally snapped.
You had found a flat to finally move into and your dad was supposed to help you but something came up at work that was a bit more important so he sent over a man he knew he could rely on. What he didn’t know is that you and Simon had been fighting the urge to give into one another and you two being alone all day? It was bound to happen.
Price had walked in when Simon was helping you put the last of the furniture in which was your couch. You weren’t in a compromising position or anything but your neck was littered with love bites. You had a glow to you that you didn’t have that morning when you saw Price, and you were wearing Simon’s shirt leaving him with just a black wife beater on.
The man flew into a rage slamming his fist into Simon's face and a shocked Soap was left gawking until he kicked into gear yanking his captain up off of his lieutenant which was not an easy feat.
Simon didn’t fight back one bit as he knew that this was the reaction he was going to get. The captain had made one rule with his team, “Don’t touch my fucking daughter.”
It took months for your dad to even be okay with seeing you together at all. He could see how in love with each other you were and so the day Simon asked for his blessing he of course said yes.
You're pulled out of your thoughts from Simon sighing into your neck and gently kissing a sensitive spot. “Was thinking we could maybe make your favorite dinner and watch a movie?”
He nods, stepping away from you, “sounds good to me love.”
You give him a smirk in the mirror, “I also have a surprise for you.”
His eyes glide over you again focusing on how the dress hugs you in all the right places, “oh really? I’m going to hold you to that so no getting all cuddled up in my lap and falling asleep early.”
You know he’s teasing so you snort and roll your eyes before shooing him out of the bathroom trying to keep a knowing smile hidden, “I’m almost ready so why don’t you go get our little energy ball in his car seat.”
He gives you a quick kiss before walking out of the room and you hear him calling for your son. You listen for a moment to make sure he won’t be coming back and once you're sure you pull out a little key to unlock a part of the jewelry box.
You dig your hand into the open drawer and pull out a light blue rectangle box with a pink ribbon tied around it. Inside the box were three positive pregnancy tests. You wanted to be sure and didn’t want to get your hopes up so you wanted to take more than one.
You were so excited to tell him about the pregnancy as a few weeks ago he came to you asking if you would ever want another baby. You were hoping for a little girl this time around, the perfect addition to your family of three. Adding a second bundle of joy to your lives.
You hear Simon calling into the house for you and you yell back that you were coming. You put the little box back into the drawer and grab your purse and leave the room thinking about how your life is so different than what you thought it would be and honestly you couldn’t be happier.
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Hi my lovelies, I hope you liked this little fic! I wasn’t sure how to go about the ending so personally don’t know how to feel about it and would love some feed back. Anyways I hope you all have amazing days <3
Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡
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flowermiist · 3 months
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The kind of selfie John Price keeps on his camera roll. Something simple, spontaneous, sincere and private. Just for the two of you, nobody else.
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ceilidho · 8 months
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All the ex-husband Price content was top tier! I hope there's more soon because I've just been soaking it all up like a sponge, I wonder what he'll do when he realizes his ex-wife has a male friend who's a little too close to comfort, a neighbor or a coworker and he tires to convince her to completely move on from Price and instead be with him because he's around more often and if Price overhears the conversion 👀 say Price was dropping the kids of and she was coming in with the groceries so he goes to the door about to open it and he hears THAT over the top friendly neighbor on the other side trying to convince her and asks her out on a date.....
haha thank you so much!! i love complicated relationships and the twists and turns of love.
i actually think it would be so so funny if you were just as weird as price but in your own way. your bachelor neighbour stops by one day to give you a package that had been put on his doorstep by accident and you get to talking and he tries to convince you to go on a date with him, you know, start moving on. he sees price come by all the time and he's just concerned.
meanwhile you're just standing there, white knuckling the doorframe and getting progressively more annoyed with this dude. who the hell is he getting involved in your relationships? you can fuck your ex-husband if you want. who is this absolute stranger to lecture you about getting over your ex? you're about ten seconds from slamming the door in this guy's face when john pulls up and you melt a little when you see the stone cold look on his face.
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