Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

*************************

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

*************************

Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before"  he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

Me, choosing to aggressively ignore the events of MW3 so I can continue writing my silly little fanfics about my silly little fictional men:

Mornin' Sunshine

John 'Soap' MacTavish x Teammate!Reader

warnings/tags: MAJOR MW3 SPOILERS, this is all I can say. If you played/watched the new campaign then you know what happened during the last mission. That's all you need to know.

summary: you partake in the "Trojan Horse" mission to stop Makarov once and for all. You're not able to stop him but you prevent thousands of people to die... at the cost of something much more dear to you.

word count: 1,9k.

You’ve been cut off and held back by those Konni bastards while you were heading toward your team to rejoin. You have to cut through their unrelenting forces, losing precious time, until you can dive deeper into the tunnels and rush to aid your mates.

When you finally make it, it’s already too late. The fire has ceased, there’s no Konni in sight anymore nor do you see Makarov anywhere. Your eyes dart for a fleeting moment over all the bodies laying around and with relief you notice more enemies than familiar faces.

Your relief however is short lived for when you raise your gaze, you meet the forlorn looks on the captain, Gaz, Ghost’s faces… They're all standing in front of something, as if their intention is to block it from your view. You immediately notice that Soap is missing and you take a step forward, craning your neck as if expecting to see his face pop up from behind someone’s shoulder.

Price instantly makes a beeline toward you when he sees you move. His hand comes down hard to rest on your shoulder. Your perplexed look meets his intense gaze. There’s something wrong, you can feel it… Something must have happened, but you can't yet seem to understand what. 

Your eyes flicker from face to face, your frown growing harder.

"Where's Johnny?" you ask softly, your voice failing you for a moment as if it knows something you don’t.

Upon seeing the worried glances they give each other you can feel your breathing quicken and your stomach starting to churn in anxiety. There's a horrible thought slowly taking form in the recesses of your mind but you try your best to suppress it… because it can't be true. No. It can't be. 

"Where… is… Johnny?" your voice is louder now and you stress each word on purpose, making it clear that you demand an answer. Your hard gaze roams over your partners' faces once more but again, you’re only met with distraught looks and silence.

You move to step around Price's body, who's clearly - now you realize - trying to hold you in place.

"Y/N, you shouldn't-" 

He tries to stop you but you're growing restless, anxiety eating at you from inside and so you shove your captain out of the way without a second thought.

Your stomach drops the moment you see him. Your heart misses a beat. You can feel the air getting pushed out of your lungs. 

Despite your knees buckling, you drag yourself forward like attracted to a magnet, stumbling toward the inert body laying on the ground in a puddle of blood. His head is turned to the other side but you recognize him. How couldn't you? You've lovingly run your hands through that stupid mohawk so many times… 

"No…"

A strained lament escapes your lips before your hands fly up to cover your mouth.

This time it's Ghost who steps in your way, taking advantage of your shock to wrap his strong hands around your forearms in order to prevent you from both stepping further and collapsing on the ground. 

Your head is shaking in a frantic manner, your breathing growing more ragged by the second. Your eyes are wide open, blood turning to ice in your veins as panic takes hold of you.

"No, no, no, no…" 

You sound like a broken record. You can't seem to be able to say anything else. Your mind is empty. Your tongue tied. 

Your fingers turn white at the force you use to grab Ghost's vest. You want to shove him out of the way too but this time your arms fail you.

"Fuck off! Get out of my fucking way!" you start yelling at him, forcefully hitting him on his chest with your hands clenched into fists. You don't even know what you're saying or what you're doing. You have no control over the way your body is responding to the shock and grief. 

Ghost doesn't flinch, he keeps holding you in place. Your eyes meet his for a fleeting moment and you notice the hurt in them. That rare sight only worsens your distraught state. 

Your head starts shaking again, from side to side, rejecting this heinous turn of events - as if you're unwillingness to accept what's happening would change things, bring him back… back to you. It's as if you're expecting him to turn around and flash you one of those smirks of his and tell you that it was only a joke, a fucking horrible not funny at all joke… You wouldn't care. You would jump in his arms and hug him tight, delaying the scolding for later.

"Let me… Let me see him." you say quietly, feeling a lump forming in your throat as you reluctantly shake that remote fantasy off your mind.

"LET ME SEE HIM." 

You're switching from subdued anguish to pure rage real quick, back and forth without control. 

Ghost's hold on you doesn't budge, despite your every attempt to disentangle yourself from his clench. 

You hear the sound of Price's voice but the sharp ringing in your ears makes you unable to decipher his words. You can only feel Ghost's hands releasing you a moment after. You don't hesitate even a second to rush to the body and drop on your knees beside him. 

Your arms reach for him out of reflex, like you would always do whenever you saw him. But this time he's not returning the gesture. He can't. He won't move. 

Your hands visibly tremble as you reach over to grab his head and turn it your way. Your heart stops once again. You feel something gnawing at the mouth of your stomach, a weight settling there. 

"Johnny…" you call out to him in a soft whisper just like you would do every morning to wake him up while running your fingers along his features and through his dark hair. 

"Johnny…" 

He would always wake up in an instant, as if your touch was the power button to his body. And he would greet you with that beautiful smile of his that would light up even the darkest of days. And he would caress your face, eyes gazing adoringly at you before he would whisper: "Mornin' sunshine."

Your hands cup his cheeks as you lean forward to level your face with his. Your eyes search his bottomless blue gems, but all you're met with is a blank look, a lifeless look. There’s no spark anymore. No lighting up upon seeing your face like after each mission when you would rejoin.

You grab his hands in yours. The same hands that have comforted you, protected you, pleased you, worshiped every inch of your body… His touch was always warm. You would joke about it with him. He had once proclaimed himself your personal radiator and pulled your shaking body against his, simply to have another reason to touch you. 

You bring one calloused palm to your face, longing for that same comfort again… but its warmth is fading. His hand is growing cold. The touch is foreign to you. You don't recognize it anymore. 

"Please… Wake up …"

You're deliberately avoiding looking at the hole in his forehead. It's like your brain is preventing you from even getting a glimpse of it. If you don't see it, it's not there. Right? It's not there. 

Just like the crimson blood leaking from his head is not his. No. No… He's killed plenty of those bastards. It’s their blood. And he's now taking a well deserved rest… Yes. That must be it. He's simply resting. With his eyes open… his pupils unmoving… 

You bend even forward, arms wrapping around his body, turning him toward you. You pull him closer, holding him tight in your embrace. You cradle his lifeless shell, rocking back and forth in a frantic, desperate motion. 

"Johnny… Oh, love… Please… No…. "

Your voice breaks due to the lump tightening in your throat. Your vision starts to blur and you squeeze your eyes closed as you nuzzle your face against his head. Your hot tears merge with his blood smeared on your skin. You feel its metallic taste on your lips but you don't care. You keep cradling him, pressing his body closer to yours as if you want to absorb him into you, to become one thing. To always have him with you. 

Incomprehensible laments leave your lips without respite, your cries subdued and muffled by his flesh. You hold onto his frame for dear life as if you're hanging on by a thread. 

Your mates silently watch the heart wrenching scene of you mourning your lover, incapable of saying or doing anything that could bring you any comfort. They're mourning too, in their own way. You all have just lost someone too important. 

" Why … Why you… How dare you … How dare you leave me… I'm sorry … I'm sorry I couldn't save you… It should have been me … You don’t deserve it… I love you … I love you so much… Please don't leave me alone …" 

Your pain surges out of you like a river in flood. Your voice swaying from shock to anger, from regret to desperation… 

You can't believe he's gone. You can't accept it. His life taken from him in a blink of an eye as if he was worth nothing. You should be used to it, to the swiftness of lives getting taken on the field, each day. But when it's the person you love the most succumbing to such a crude unfair death… You can't accept it. You won't accept it. 

"I will kill him with my own two hands, Johnny… I swear." you whisper against his ear as if you're confessing a secret, your fingers digging hard in his clothes as your voice trembles with pure rage. "I will wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze… squeeze until I can feel his life leave his worthless body. Until I can see his eyes roll back.” The words come out of you in one breath, spat with venom through your teeth. 

“I promise you that."

"Y/N…" 

You hear Price's warm voice call out to you. The hint of protest in his tone makes you snap your head in his direction and pin him with a wild- eyed look filled with anguish.

"I WILL KILL HIM." you scream in an outburst of fury, then as if all your forces have suddenly left your body, your shoulders slump and your head drops back against your lover's limp form. 

You don't say anything anymore, the only sound coming from you is that of intermittent sobs. You hold desperately onto his body, brushing your lips against his cold skin, tenderly kissing his unresponsive lips. You hug him close until he's taken away from you. Or rather, until you're torn away from him by more than a pair of strong hands. You never lose him from your sight, watching with dread as he's secured into a bag and carried away. 

Seeing his motionless body being handled and dragged away like that is excruciating and it serves as the final blow draining you of your last ounce of vitality; he’s really dead. You won’t see him again, talk to him, hug him, kiss him… You’ve just lost the lifeblood to your existence, the ray of sunshine brightening up your days and propelling you to keep going.

You start to feel faint. Your vision flickering and turning black, your body slumping forward toward the ground. 

You see Johnny. Yes, your Johnny , promptly kneeling down in front of you, ready to catch you in his arms, to comfort you, take care of you. You smile feebly at the familiarity of the scene, before you close your eyes and abandon yourself to the darkness.

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or buying me a ☕ if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

A.N: I lost someone too recently, so this story was a medium to express my feelings and cope with what happened, in some way. I hope you enjoyed it, as much as a story this sad can be "enjoyed". Also, despite the circumstances I'm happy to be back after months of writer' block.

Mine — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Art by @ave661!

Synopsis: knowing he couldn't provide you with the life you wanted, Simon breaks things off with you. Two years later, you come back to base with a baby that isn't his.

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, established relationships, breeding, erotic lactation, romantic love making, praising. No beta we die like Roach.

Ghost always knew his lifestyle would forever be considered out of the norm. A soldier who risks his life every single mission, a man who has built an entire plethora of enemies in multiple countries should never even bother settling down, yet why does it hurt to bad to see you come back to base with a baby that isn't his? It was his idea to break up— not wanting to destroy your dreams of wanting a family in a gated community, even when you reassured him living together as soldiers wouldn't be an issue at all.

"Say 'hi, Simon'." You tell the baby you're carrying, the tiny thing wearing a bear onesie is looking up at Simon, pure curiosity in her eyes. She simply babbles, short arms reaching out to touch his skull mask. To your surprise and to his heart break, he leans down so your daughter can play with the hard plate of the mask, not worried at all about her breaking it.

"She looks like you." He said with a choked voice, trying his best to sound calm. He doesn't even dare look at you, his gaze focused on the tiny girl you're holding.

"Dada!" She babbles out while touching his mask and Simon's eyes immediately go towards you, soul almost leaving his body in fear of seeing disgust on your face, yet all he sees is a bashful smile adorning your pretty features. He holds in his breath, eyebrows furrowed under the balaclava as he waits for your response.

"Astrid, that's—" You begin and she interrupts, one of her tiny hands barely being able to hold one of his big skull gloved fingers. "Dada!" She insists, louder this time. There's only 3 words the little girl can say including 'Dada', so you're not all that concerned about her seeing him that way.

"Sorry, she—" You get interrupted once again, this time by Simon.

"It's okay." If being delusional and pretending this tiny thing is his daughter helps him deal with the heartbreak making his chest hurt, he doesn't mind. The girl clings to Simon's neck and you lean closer, giving her a questioning look. She never liked being held by anyone but you, often crying whenever friends tried to hold her.

"This might sound strange, but..." His gaze shifted from you to the child, heart melting at the little girl holding onto the neck of his jacket for dear life.

"Can I hold her?" His voice was hoarse, hands almost shaking from all the emotions that hit him at once.

"Of course." Your warm smile reassured him, gently passing him the baby. He supported the back of her head with his hand, easily dwarfing her entire skull, yet being so delicate with his touch you could swear he thinks your daughter is made of glass.

Simon felt light headed as the little girl was slipped into his arms, fitting perfectly in his hands. His eyes lit up when he looked down and saw her soft, chubby fingers wrap around the chain of his dog tags, a small smile forming under the balaclava. He brought her close and cradled her, heart thundering in his chest at holding this lovely girl you created.

"Dada." She pointed at him with her finger, looking back at you as she squeezed his chain with her free hand. You could swear you saw one of his eyebrows lifting in amusement under the mask, the same cocky look you know too well.

"Maybe she wants me to be her daddy." He teased you, cradling the baby delicately in his strong arms, shielding her from any danger. He was instantly smitten the second he saw her, content to have your permission to hold her even after all you both went through.

"Don't be so smug about it, bastard." You playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder to give your little girl a kiss on the forehead, her hand holding onto your hair softly the same way you managed to teach her after one too many times of having your hair pulled by the tiny creature.

"Mama." She attempted to pet your hair the same you taught her how to pet a cat, albeit her tiny limbs moved much sloppier and with surprising strength.

"I think it's sweet." He said with a cheeky smirk, the pain in his chest going away more and more the longer he held your daughter. He was secretly hoping to get a reaction out of you after almost two years of not being able to tease you.

"You can tell her no all you want, but if she wants a dada, she's got one." As if to prove his point, he pointed with his eyes to the girl in his arms, the child reaching out towards Ghost with a giggle. His fingers tickled the baby gently, making her laugh even more. You look between Simon and the baby, a fond smile on your lips when you see just how easily they get along, the pupils in his brown eyes fully dilated as he looks down at her.

"Look at her." Ghost spoke softly, one of his skull gloved fingers running down the length of her short hair.

"She looks like an angel." He looked down at the child with nothing short of raw adoration, gaze drifting back to you, taking in the sweet moment of your body leaning against his while you both fawn over the infant. You hesitantly move away from his shoulder after a few seconds and he gives you a questioning side eye.

"I've got a meeting with Price, let me—" You reach out for your baby and he looks down at you, gaze softening.

"I can babysit for you." He offers with a hopeful look in his eyes. How can you deny anything to this man when he's holding your little girl as if he would die for her no questions asked? When those big brown eyes are looking down at you, the moisture in them clear as day? You nod your head, offering a warm smile as you give your baby one last kiss in the cheek, accidentally tickling her and making her giggle even more.

"There's a few baby bottles in the fridge, just run them over hot water for a few seconds until it's warm— but not too warm." He nods his head as you give him instructions on how to take care of the baby, listening intently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you he knows how to take care of a child— he babysat his former nephew many, many times before. He doesn't even realize he dissociated until you gently pat his shoulder, walking to Price's office.

"You and me, yeah?" He asks your baby who simply giggles in return, tiny hands going back to play with the hard plate of his skull mask.

The meeting took much longer than expected, catching up with Price and talking about your possible return to the 141. It isn't until three hours later that you go back to your quarters, heart in your throat when you turn on the lights.

Ghost is laying on your bed, civilian clothes on with a hoodie covering half of his upper face, your baby safely secured on his chest. You don't have the heart to wake them up, instead grabbing your phone and snapping a quick picture, making sure not a single feature of his face is seen for his own safety and privacy.

The change of lighting slowly wakes him up, offering you a tired smile before his eyes close again once he realizes it's just you. You take off your boots and turn off the light, sneaking into bed with your lovely baby and... your ex.

It feels too natural to even think much about it, one of his arms instantly wrapping around your shoulders to bring you closer, head resting on his chest along with the tiny offspring. He drifts off to sleep soundly with his two girls and for the first time in a long time, he's able to get a full night's sleep, not being woken up by his violent nightmares.

Weeks pass as Simon spends more and more time with you, your new contract signed the same day you had a meeting with Price, though he's not putting you on any missions yet until they figure out who will take care of your daughter while you're away. Today Gaz and Soap asked to take her out, claiming they wanted to buy some new clothes for her since she's growing up fast.

"Hey, big guy." You greet Simon, who seems to have relocated to your quarters for whatever reason— the man literally spends his whole time there and you don't even question it anymore, simply assuming he wanted to spend more time with your daughter. You know details here and there about his family, though he was never clear about the full story. You sit down next to him and he nods his head in acknowledgment, too busy looking at his phone.

"Can I buy her this?" He points his phone at you, showing you a website selling pajama pants for babies, the ones he's showing you are grey and have a skull pattern all over. You playfully roll your eyes, nodding your head before laying down next to him, head laying on his chest while you look at his phone, browsing the website together.

"You don't have to buy her things, you know?" You take a few seconds to admire his unmasked features iluminated by his phone—the soft jawline, thin pink lips, high nose and skin around his eyes that always seemed to be tainted with eye black no matter how well he washed it off.

"Telling me what to do, Sargeant?" He teased, raising an eyebrow at you and being an asshole jokingly just to make you laugh. It only earns him a slap on the arm, phone dropping right on his face. He turns his head slowly to look at you and you can recognize the look in his eyes— you try to run away but he holds you down, fingers already tickling your ribs as you laugh and struggle, trying your best to get out of his grasp to no avail.

"Pause." You kick and scream, laughter escaping your lips due to the tickles. As soon as you speak he stops, looking down at you with a tender look in his face. You gasp for air and he takes the chance to look down at your lips, so close, so inviting...

"I saw that." You tease and he jokingly pushes your head into the pillow, laying down next to you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You giggle at the remaining feeling of the tickles before laying back down on your side, hand absent-mindedly tracing patters on his defined, clothed stomach. You don't know when you both started becoming so close again, yet the comfort is always welcome in the turbulent life of a soldier.

"When's that lot coming back?" He looks down at you, longing mixed with curiosity. Truth to be told, he knows the boys will keep your baby safe, but he wants to have her right back where she belongs— in his arms.

"Like... two hours, I think. If they don't find anything too distracting. Don't worry, I made them take a jacket for her in case it gets cold." He would never tell you he was the one to put the baby jacket in the car because they all forgot.

"Good, good." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. It's quiet for a few minutes, both of you finding comfort in the silence before he speaks again.

"Are you planning on having another one?" He asks curiously, gaze drifting down towards you, doing his best to hide the longing and hope in his tone.

"Maybe." You keep in simple, eyes staying closed as you trace patterns on the muscles of his stomach, feeling them flex involuntarily at your touch.

"Why? Interested on having a family with me now, Simon?" You tease, an eyebrow raised at him as you finally open your eyes. He seems to be thinking about it for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.

"Bullshit." You sit up, looking down at him with a mix of confusion and hope.

"S' the truth." He plays it off casually as if he didn't confess being ready to do the same thing that broke both of you off two years ago. He pulls you back down to his chest, fingers gently massaging your scalp. You can hear his heart beat fast, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the knot in his throat.

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. It's too much all at once— knowing Simon actually wanted to settle down with you bringing a mix of anxiety and fear to both of you equally. He never had a normal family, and though deep down he was scared of being like his father, he already proved to himself he can be gentle and tender, the same way he is with your daughter.

His hand slowly drifted down from your waist to the curve of your ass, softly squeezing it while looking at you for any signs of hesitation. He finds none, and instead sees you leaning closer and closer until your lips crash, the passion of two lovers who never got over one another present in the kiss.

Clothes are discharged all over the room with no care at all, the quarter walls bouncing off with a mix of your moans and his low groans, a pillow under your hips while he fucked into your cunt, slow and deep thrusts making the tip of his fat cock slam into your willing cervix.

"Gonna look so fucking pretty with my kid." He whispers into your ear, breathy groans leaving his lips as his thrusts slow down, making love to you rather than just fucking you for a quick nut. One of his hands cups your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me. Tell me how pretty you'll be all swollen with my baby." You hesitate and he kisses your lips gently, gaze tender while he looks down at you, thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time as he waits for you to speak.

"I'll look... so pretty—fuck— with your child." You manage to speak out between whiny moans, the way he's looking at you with pure love and adoration is all you need to confirm he does find you attractive. Truth to be told, it's difficult being confident after glint through something that permanently alters your body, yet he's looking at you like you're even more beautiful than before. In his eyes, you are.

"That's a good girl." He praises, hips rutting faster against yours as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, the nasty squelching sound every time he goes hits it hard making this even more exciting. He holds himself up with his elbows, large hands cupping your tits while he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it like a starved man finding shelter.

"These tits are gonna be so big too." He murmurs, swallowing the milk coming out of your tits with no hesitation. His hand gets busy with your other nipple, gently pulling and squeezing the sensitive bud, not minding the milk squirting all over. It's too good to be true— your body changing so much to keep your baby healthy and soon enough, it'll change for his baby too.

"So fuckin' perfect, baby." He praises, eyes closing as he focuses on how good your wet walls are wrapping around his unprotected cock, tongue swirling around your nipple before he latches onto it again, drinking the sweet milk coming out.

"This cock's all yours." He lets go of your nipple, face seeking shelter on the crook of your neck as his thrusts get sloppier by the second, embarrassingly nasty words coming out of his lips like prayer. You're the only one allowed to ever see him like this, to have him in any possibly way. He doesn't even care how he's promising you the world, offering all of himself to you without having any doubts.

"Everyone's gonna know you're mine, love." He whispers into your ear, voice hoarse and full emotion, hips stuttering before he buries himself all the way into your cunt, cum splurging out directly into your willing, fertile womb. He keeps himself inside, caging you in with his strong arms into a protective embrace, wanting to make sure not a single drop of cum is wasted.

"All mine."

Useless

*********************

Thinking about doing a part 2 for this. Let me know if you're interested :)

Tw: Angst

Part 2 is posted!!! (Link below)

https://www.tumblr.com/daddypriceugh/732913818599145473/useless-pt-2?source=share

**********************

"Can't you be useful for one fucking time?"

"Wha-"

Your voice gets stuck in your throat because of that sentence. The tears that you were holding back now falling freely over your cheeks.

How did this argument escalate to this point? Could you have said something to stop it?

The feral look in his eyes scares you. It reminds you of a wild animal ready to attack his food.

He had never looked at you this way before. Well until now.

You think back to when it all started. You were standing in the living room decorating the Christmas tree while listening to music. There was a peaceful atmosphere in the room. Until Simon arrived.

You didn't see but heard him. Heavy footsteps walking into your direction. You turned around with a smile, ready to greet him but were taken aback by his furious face.

"What's wrong Si?"

A humourless laugh escapes him.

"What's wrong? You're asking me what's wrong? "

You were confused, not knowing what he wants to say with that.

"I come home after having a fucking long day, only to see that my flat looks like shit." He yelled at you.

"And what are you doing instead of cleaning it? Fucking decorating a tree!"

That was the moment your confusion fell and anger took over.

"Are you calling me lazy?!"

He shakes his head in disbelief and waves his hand to signal that he doesn't want to hear your talk.

"Ohh no don't you dare walk out of this now! What is your problem? You started this now fucking end it!"

And this brought you into the current situation.

How dare he say that your useless! You're doing a lot more everyday than him. Can't he see that you're doing your best?

You take you eyes off of him and start furiously wipe the tears away. Your body feels like it will explode soon by the anger your feeling.

"Fine. Since I'm so useless I will leave you alone for some time. I'm sure you won't mind."

You stride past him towards the flat door. The car keys are being smoothly snatched by your hand while the other unlocks the door.

This seems to bring Simon back to reality as you hear him walking up behind you calling your name. He sounds desperate tho you don't care about it. His words hurt you. A lot.

You open the door and slam it behind you probably slamming it into Simons face.

You step into the elevator and press on the button. After the doors close, you slid down the wall holding your head in your hands in frustration.

"What the fuck did just happen."

Hi my beloveds :) I just wanted to ask if my next stories should include fluff, smut or angst.

If y'all have any specific ideas please comment or send me a message I'm open for everything <3

Have a nice day!!