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#i should have stayed in retirement
lazaruspiss · 1 year
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goodnight sweet prince
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nerdyfangirlingbooks · 7 months
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Hot take but maybe if drivers are throwing up in their helmet mid-race, constantly opening their visors for air, subsequently getting a face full of sand, retiring because they feel too sick, feeling like they're about to faint during the race, driving with no hands to try get better airflow, unable to see properly around high speed corners from blurry vision, physically unable to get themselves out of their cars at the end, passing out in the medical centre post race, and being taken straight to the ambulance after the race, the race should have been stopped?
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coldbrewnette · 16 days
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I cannot wait to finally be able to send my father back to santo domingo bro
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That documentary American Nightmare is crazy. Like imagine being the victims of something like that and everyone from the media to police to the FBI are like, damn, that is crazy. So crazy it didn't happen. You're lying, you killed her--oh...She turned up alive...Uh...She's lying. Wait, uh...oops. Never mind. This other cop who actually bothered to do her job and talked to all the women other cops ignored caught the guy. Um...anyway you're both alive and not in jail so we're just gonna pretend this never happened. I mean it's not like we could have known; there was a movie where the lady set everything up and was lying! How can you expect us to have actually investigated what was reported to us?
At least that one reporter had a conscience. And he actually did forward the emails he got to the police, so, y'know, he at least was doing his job. It's funny how when something like this happens, the people who did the least, all things considered, are the ones to step up and be like, yeah, I fucked up, and the ones who made blunder after blunder from sheer laziness and their own tunnel vision are just like no comment, that didn't happen, and our internal investigation found no wrong-doing on the part of us.
#anyway I know not all female cops are good people#but we know that women tend to take on male ideals in male-dominated spaces#not all women obviously but it is a phenomenon#whereas women have to make up like 80% of a space before men start agreeing with the women#so I think if women were running the police--not just a handful compared to males but like the whole thing run by women#we'd have a lot more actual violent crime being solved and less tunnel vision based on stereotypes#even more so if the racial demographics of the cops in a given area roughly matched those of the people in that area in general#because obviously racism is a huge problem too#but men like power too much#so it's not enough to just change the racial demographics because men will happily turn on their own for a scrap of power#and men of all demographics treat women like shit#so it needs to be run by specifically women who roughly match the racial demographics of the area they're in#I honestly feel that the existing police forces should be put to a women's vote of who goes and who stays#and all the ones they want gone get sacked immediately#the few who get voted to stay train female recruits#so the only males on the force are those grandfathered in#guarantee after those men retired#the number of police officer serial killers/rapists would be zero#because literally I don't think there's been a single one#like I just looked it up and found a female officer who committed a double murder in an armed robbery with a male accomplice
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thebumblecee · 1 year
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Every time I make peace with being a fandom grandma the show makes a reference and I have to see the words “whose Liza Minnelli” with my own two eyes.
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dottyistired · 1 year
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i'm like the only phoenix stubble anti. he cleaned up immaculately in aa5 i am kissing him on his well shaved chin
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youremyonlyhope · 2 years
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PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IS FINALLY CLOSING ON BROADWAY.
THANK YOU THEATRE GODS.
#not tagging this but i know if you search phantom it will show up so this is more just a testament to search tags not general#i for one try to ignore the fact that tumblr changed its search function to have the option to search tags and general posts.#but i am making sure to NOT purposefully put this in the phantom tag since i'm not that mean when it comes to phantom#but i can't help that tumblr's search function is stupid so if this shows up because it has the words phantom then i'm sorry#once again for the record i DID NOT put hate in the tag. if you think you're in the phantom tag and you see this post then know that#you are not in the phantom tag you are in the phantom search bar and you need to relearn how to use tumblr's updated stupidity#ANYWAY. GUYS. I'VE BEEN SCREAMING FOR YEARS THAT PHANTOM NEEDED TO HAVE CLOSED ALREADY AND IT IS FINALLY CLOSING#finally. FINALLY. the pandemic has claimed a show that truly deserved to close.#this show should have closed in 2015 when they put that literal child molester onstage as the phantom#who was only spared being a registered sex offender because the judge didn't want to 'ruin his career'#hey dude. don't assault at 15 year old if you don't want to ruin your own career. god. 7+ years of anger bubbling up right.#this show should have closed so long ago. if not in 2015 then LONG before then but 2015 should have been the moment.#that STUPID casting decision should have been the reason it closed i am so mad it took this long.#the show should have closed after Norm played the Phantom because it didn't do anything good again until Emilie#now if Emilie Kouatchou gets to be the last Broadway Christine then i will die HAPPILY. i will just. i can die now. i will be happy.#because not only would phantom be FINALLY closed but then that means Playbill Vault will always show Emilie in closing cast#i hope she stays through the end of the run though i will not be seeing the show before it closes unless it's for free#PHANTOM'S CLOSING ON BROADWAY YOU GUYS!!! THIS IS A JOYOUS DAY!#my anon is off so don't even try to come at me#also shoutout to Thelma Pollard who is amazing i hope she gets a good retirement package from ALW like she DESERVES#i feel bad for cast and crew who are losing jobs but the show itself? nah. glad it's gone.
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ihatebnha · 2 years
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I miss ur bloooggg 🥺☹️
I miss it too💔💔💔💔🤎
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autisticlee · 5 months
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sometimes I really cant stand boomers and can't wait for their inevitable demise. i'm tired of hearing disgruntled old bigots who barely have any time left run their mouths, spread hatred, and blame us for the shit they caused for us to clean up. just go away. this world doesn't belong to you anymore.
#dont care if that sounds bad. ive seen enough good ones that i can count on one hand and we know how many there are#where i live is a town of mostly boomers#all the care about is themsleves and screwing over everyone else and blaming us for their fuckups#while being pathetic bigots who dont know how to be decent respectful people yet demand respect for themselves#why are people like this who have a decade or 2 left if theyre lucky making decisions for OUR FUTURE. when we dont want their shit#they want so bad to keep thinks like “the good ol days” and ignore the fact that we dont live in their generation anymore#they had their lives! they need to stop acting like we need to live their lives! things are different. try to improve things for us#not try to make us suffer like you did but at the same time act like you had it so good and were perfect little angels#and why the fuck are you all such horrible bigots that hate everyone different from you?????? i truly dont understand that#why do you think saying shitty to younger people and anyone you “dont understand” will do anything good? seriously#what good does that do? are you trying to make us hate you because its working. go retire into your graves already you useless sacks of meat#i dont care if im ~being mean~ some of those old freaks need to go and stop leeching off of us and blaming us for their shit#and being living pieces of shit while their at it#the good oldies can stay as long as they like tho but those are few and far between as i said#when i say boomers i dont include the good ones. theyre just sweet oldies. boomer basically now means disgruntled old bigot#lee rants#i just needed to rant after seeing comfy rich retirement fund boomers come onto this site just to scream obscenities at young people#as if that will do anything or motivate us to “want to work” or whatever the fuck they scream about. old little freaks leave us alone.#where are the good oldies? i hardly ever see them. id love to hear from them more! im so tired of the doomer boomers.#maybe i should call them doomer boomers from now on. theyre so negative towards everyone but themsleves and speak doom on us
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wibixthecowboy · 1 year
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Play the Song: Part 1: Meet the Flash
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Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.
Warnings/Tags: Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, swearing, weapons, literally only fluff and banter, minimal angst, soft baby girl Ghost, asshole Soap, lighthearted, I can fix him he just needs a hug, warning for an excessively bad taste in music, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, Gaz is just there because he’s on the wiki I have no idea who he is, eventual smut, praise, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV
Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful! 
A/N: I have been resurrected from the tumblr tombs once again to write about a man that I’ll never have. I have no idea how cod or war in general works and I don’t care enough to learn so enjoy my bullshitting.
Words: 1.5k
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4  Part 5
  ★ Ghost
  It was a hot day in Las Almas, with the temperature pushing almost 100 degrees, Ghost’s single shirt has stuck to the sheen of sweat on his chest beneath the annoyingly thick Kevlar bodyguard and left him second-guessing his faceless persona in desperation to rip the damp mask off. 
   Their sniper was down, and much to Ghost’s displeasure they were on their way to pick up a new team member fresh off the academy grill. The manila folder in his hands was thin, but the few sheets inside were enough to sell her to the coordinator, he had to admit that she seemed impressive but the minimal amount of field experience would have immediately disqualified her as a candidate if it was his choice.  
“Sniper specialist” 
“98% accuracy rate”
“trained in 6 fighting styles” 
“Distinguished Graduate Award and Clements Award winner” 
“Works under special requirements” 
He squints down at the last line, fighting the bouncing of the truck over the rough terrain to read clearly, special requirements. Ghost huffs a frustrated breath at the lack of further explanation and hands the papers to Soap next to him. 
“Do you know what the special requirements are?” He grumbles, eyeing Soap’s hunched shoulders. They had just gotten the call to clear a residency that would hopefully contain the information on the next run and they would be heading straight in with a newbie. No one was happy. 
Soap shuffles through the papers, barely taking the time to skim the words before he’s shoving them behind him to Price in the back seat. 
“Why the fuck would I know? Do I look like the coordinator?” Ghost raises an eyebrow at the attitude but decides to let it go. He knows from experience that poking would get him nowhere. 
Ghost turns his head to Price in hopes of a clearer answer but he just shakes his head and hands the papers back. 
“You’re missing a few pages there Ghost.” Price says closing his eyes and resting against the seat. Soap, suddenly done with the conversation rolls his eyes and turns to watch the sparse rolling landscape out the window.
“This is the entire file, I opened it on the way here.” Ghost retorts, looking down to flip through the paperwork. It takes him a moment to see it but when he does his hands freeze. Signaled by the sudden stop, Price sits up and looks over the seat to read the page in Ghost’s hand. 
“Oh shit”  
 Somehow both of them had missed the single line at the bottom of the first page,
“Missions completed: 0″
 Realization slowly dawns on him, this recruit has absolutely no field experience. When the coordinator said fresh off the grill he meant it. Ghost turns to relay his newfound information to Soap but snaps his mouth shut at the sight of his pissy expression. 
This new realization leaves a pit in Ghost’s stomach. He hadn’t signed up for training, the recruit couldn't be over 25, a vast difference compared to their already existing team. He’d asked for their best sniper, not a child.   
_____
   The van’s wheels grind to a halt in front of the small outpost building and Soap slams the door open, eager to get the process over with. As if on cue the doors open wide to reveal the coordinator and their new recruit. Ghost balks, through the shimmering heat he can make out two shapes, one being the coordinator and the other he assumes is the recruit. The top of her helmet is level with his shoulder pad and with the rifle being half her height, she looks more like a child than a soldier.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Jesus Fuckin’ Christ that's a child!” Although he wasn’t quick enough to stop him, Price still gives Soap a hard shove to the shoulder. Soap turns around in his seat ready to hit back but Ghost grabs his fist and levels him with a glare. Even with Soap’s strong accent muddying his tone, the words ring clear past the approaching pair. The recruit stands tall though, power-walking through the sand and stopping in front of the open sliding door. 
If it wasn’t for the giant rifle and other military paraphernalia strapped to her chest Ghost would assume he was back at a countryside bar in Kentucky. Her golden blonde hair has been weaved into a thick braid hanging halfway down her chest, framing her freckled face in soft layers and shining in the mid-day sun. The recruit’s blue eyes shone with a wild flare that left Ghost shifting in his seat. Upon noticing a slight gap between her front teeth he feels the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, only to frown at the lack of southern drawl when she finally speaks. 
“I go by Flash, and for your information, my 20th birthday was this summer and I’m probably a better shot than all of you. Now that’s out of the way, are we ready to go gentleman?” 
The entire team freezes in shock at the new and unexpected information. Ghost chokes on his next breath of air and his dignity is saved by Soap’s sudden yell.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 20?” Flash’s façade falters for just a second at the brute yell before Price is shoving past Soap to get out of the car and stand in front of the pair, blocking them from view. 
Price and the coordinator exchange a few short words before Ghost clears his throat and interrupts.
“No.”
____________________________________
★ Flash
   Flash had been warned about joining Task Force 141, as soon as the news was announced whispers floated around the academy, leaving Flash the center of attention. She was stopped nearly every day to be questioned about the lone wolf Lieutenant Ghost and despite her constant pressing that she had not met any of them, let alone the one known most for his evasiveness, the pestering continued. Flash was tired of being a show pony. She had an itch that needed to be scratched and it wouldn’t happen through obstacle courses and teaching. She needed to be out on the field and she was prepared to do whatever she needed to do to prove herself. What she hadn't prepared for was outright denial.
Everyone’s attention shifts to Lieutenant Ghost, and the man in front of her winces before speaking.
“Ghost it is not up for debate she’s already signed on.”
“Well, fuckin’ take her off then Price!” The loud Scottish man yells again. 
 After an awkward pause, the coordinator shifts on his feet and directs his attention to Captain Price, 
“Captain this decision is final, paperwork has already been filed, and the academy has handed her off.” He clears his throat before speaking “And if I may, Flash has the highest scores of all time on nearly every leaderboard back at the academy, she’s no beginner.” Flash feels a swell of pride and makes a note to thank him later. 
“It’s not happening” Lieutenant Ghost’s voice is cold and has Flash’s newfound pride deflating. So much for making new friends. 
Captain Price sighs before turning to speak directly to Lieutenant Ghost,
“Ghost it seems like we don’t have much choice. Soap move to the back, Flash can take your spot.” He heaves a sigh and Flash can see him bracing himself for a backlash but its not from who she expected. 
“This is utter dog shit, I’m not working with a child!” Soap drops his head into his hands before heaving himself out of his seat and into the back. Flash’s smirk falters when she realizes who she’ll be placed next to but she takes a breath and steps into the van, ignoring Captain Price’s outstretched hand. 
Captain Price shoves himself next to Soap and the coordinator gives them one last salute before pulling the door shut.
   It’s a tight squeeze in the van, the third seat of the second row has been ripped out and replaced with a few precariously balanced boxes, leaving her pressed up against the side of the Lieutenant. Although the sweltering day had given her a rosy complexion the heat of his body made her face flush an even deeper shade of pink. 
 _____
They bump along the road for a bit before it dawns on Flash that she’s on the way to her first mission. She can’t help the grin that slowly makes its way across her face.
“What’s that shit eating grin for?” Soap grumbles from the back seat obviously still sore from being forced into the back. Flash cant help the giggles that force their way up when she spots him glaring at her through the rearview mirror.
“Nothing.” She replies with a simple shrug and drops her gaze down to her lap, still smiling. Ghost’s rigid posture doesn’t relax but when he looks down at her she can almost see a glint of humor in his blue eyes. She stares back, “What?”
“Nothing.” He mimics. 
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. 
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bboricha · 1 year
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y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1
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➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!
➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?
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al haitham x secretary afab!reader
you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive. 
maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.
it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit. 
you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling—at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.
he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.
“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”
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kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader
you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.
especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.
you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.
when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.
his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.
“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”
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baizhu x assistant afab!reader
you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.
one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.
he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?
he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.
you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.
he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.
“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”
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childe x cicin mage afab!reader
you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side. 
that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.
he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.
you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.
the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.
“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”
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cyno x matra afab!reader
you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.
his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.
you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.
the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.
at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.
“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”
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➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd
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secretceremonials · 1 year
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i know in the grand scheme of everyday sexism this is really insignificant, but it really irks me that i am at one of the best law schools in the world, and therefore have good employment potential on my own, and still get asked by at least one family member a fortnight when i’m going to become a trophy wife
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talkdutchtome · 1 month
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"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen
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pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )
word count . . . 2800 words )
a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )
Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  
You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  
In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  
Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  
So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  
“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  
“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  
“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  
“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  
To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  
“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  
“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  
“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   
“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  
As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  
“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  
“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  
But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  
You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 
Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  
“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 
You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 
“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 
The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  
“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  
“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 
“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  
You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  
“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  
“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 
Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 
“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 
“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 
Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  
“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  
“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  
“Fuck really?” 
“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 
“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 
The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 
“I love you so much Y/N” 
He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  
Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 
“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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(She's) Off The Track
Y/N is pregnant, not allowed to race, and she's pissed about it
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When the video went up on everybody's social media, the fans panicked. It was similar, eerily so, to Sebastian Vettel's retirement announcement.
But she couldn't be retiring, could she? She was only in her mid twenties and hungry for a win. There was no way she was retiring already.
She sat there in the video, a white wall behind her, and stared. For a full two and a half seconds she said nothing, but it felt so much longer. Anxious fans waited chewing on their nails as they waited to see what was going on.
To Y/N, the person in the video, it felt like she was doing one of those youtuber apology videos. Well, this was a severe and continuous lapse in her judgement, but it had ended in something wonderful.
"It's with regret that I sit here before you all to tell you that I will not be partaking in the rest of the Formula One season," she said and breathed out, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest. "In my place Liam Lawson will be driving in the second seat of the AlphaTauri."
"We thank you all for your continuous support and look forward to seeing all of you when I return to the grid next year."
She never said why, never let the fans know why she was going to be absent from the track. The fans still saw her everywhere, though. In the paddock, cheering on her replacement, or in the background of her boyfriends streams.
"This is your fault," she said as she sat on the beanbag behind Lando, placing malteasers into her mouth. "If it weren't for you, I would still be racing."
Although she sat it, it wasn't serious. It wasn't his fault at all. Actually, she didn't want to blame this on anybody; it was a welcomed surprise.
It had been a good sixteen weeks since she last sat in a Formula One car. There one race that Y/N wasn't at, leaving all the fans speculating where she could be. And then there was a two week gap between the races.
The next race she attended, something was clearly different. Lando held her hand, staying close to her while Martin Brundle interviewed her. He walked her to the AlphaTauri garage, something he didn't normally do, and didn't leave until she was being safely escorted by Daniel Ricciardo.
But the most noticeable difference was the baby bump was she sporting.
SHE'S PREGNANT!! said everybody online. It was maybe the best kept secret of the paddock.
Even though the secret was out, Y/N and Lando still didn't address it. If any interviewer tried to ask about the pregnancy, Lando would walk her away or place himself between her and the interviewer, protective fiancé mode engaged.
When the last grand prix she was allowed to attend before she had to stop flying rolled around, Y/N spent more time than usual in front of the car that should have been hers. Her hand rested on her stomach as she looked at the number 40 car. It should have been number 69, her driver number.
"Next year," she said through a sigh as Liam approached. He offered her a smile, the kind that said he sympathised with her.
Towards the end of the season she had to stop attending. There were only two races left and Lando was predicted to be on the podium for all of them.
And he was on the podium. She was forced to watch it from their television at home. She celebrated with a glass of water and a nap.
Y/N went into labour at the start of winter break. It was lucky, actually, that Lando was home and able to rush her to the hospital. He held her hand through it all and, soon, their baby boy was crying in his arms.
Ten months went by. Y/N and Lando spent the entirety of the winter break as a family, caring for their son, introducing him to the family (the grid family and their actual families) and celebrating firsts with him. When they brought him home, when he first slept in his crib, his first trip in the car, first trip in the zoo, taking him around the marina.
Lando took pictures of it all. His jpg account was full of these pictures, as long as they didn't show their sons face.
His first introduction to the Formula one world came when he was just ten months old, at the Brazilian Grand Prix. Before Y/N and Lando left their hotel, it had been a big debate over whether he was going to be wearing a McLaren onesie or an AlphaTauri onesie (Lando had won and they walked him around in a bright orange onesie).
The grid loved meeting Emmet "Chuck" Norris (Daniel thought he was really funny with that one). Emmets favourite people were Danny and Max, who had worked together to teach him to respond to his name of Chuck.
He sat in his parents cars and that was when Y/N and Lando knew, he was going to be a racer.
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kitchen-spoon · 2 months
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Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.
One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.
Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.
“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.
“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.
“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.
Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.
“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”
By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.
“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”
“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.
“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“
“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.
The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.
“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”
Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.
“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“
Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.
Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”
“Anytime sweetheart.”
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sickeninglyshoujo · 2 months
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a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k
Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him
When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.
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I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing
Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that
It’s second nature to him somehow
Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries
You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”
“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”
“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”
“They call them malingators for a reason!”
“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”
The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.
“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”
“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.
“Shut it, Si.”
Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 
Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.
When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record
Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.
After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib
It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly
“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”
“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”
Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too
“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”
“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”
You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.
It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too
It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 
“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”
Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”
Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”
The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave
You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”
“Then damn well let ‘er!”
“What about when they leave!”
“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”
Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.
They need to see the baby!
They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.
You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”
“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”
“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”
“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”
“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)
“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed
You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 
“You ok?”
“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”
He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being
“An’ you wen’ home after that!”
“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”
He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”
“MacTavish,” Simon warned.
“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”
You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you
Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet
Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley
You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 
Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym
When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”
Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 
Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her
SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.
When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning
By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost
He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”
As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”
“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”
“She asks for it!”
“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”
“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”
a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself
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