May You Live Until You Die

You both meet in a mer sanctuary, you having been rescued from an aquarium going bankrupt and ghost under treatment for a boating strike. You've never seen another mer before, but the strange creature in your tank undeniably is one, that much you instincts tell you.

But....but he's so big, bigger than anything you've seen before! You doubt he could ever comfortably fit in your tank! Just looking at him makes your fins flutter nervously, hiding in the rocks on the shelf built into the pool.

He keeps peeking into your cave, chirping and churring in a way that makes your instincts perk but you don't really understand. Safety? Pod? You don't know.

Meanwhile, ghost is losing his mind.

This strange mer is too damn small, and he keeps trying to ask "are you okay? I'm safe, did they hurt you?" But all it does is squeak like a pup and hide!

Ghost can't fit into the tiny cave with the mer, and his instincts are already freaking out because he's separated from his pod! He needs to protect the weird pup!

....how the hell the workers intend to care for you when ghost is at risk of drowning anyone who tries, they have no idea.

Not weird. Maybe nerdy? This is besides the rock collection he’s been building up since he was a kid, and besides the plethora of Lego sets he still loves to build (he doesn’t have shit else to blow cash on, why not?) and besides the knife collection—

Simon Riley has played this extremely adorable yet addicting puzzle game that has a very well known and loved mascots. He doesn’t even remember how he got into the game, but it’s been 3 years playing the game now and perhaps the collection of cute stuffed animals and stickers on his home laptop has— accumulated. Maybe too much

So when there’s a collab with his favorite video game at his favorite cafe, and with a strike of luck wins the raffle for players over level 100— of course Simon Ghost Riley is at the event!

And early at that.

Well— maybe he was sitting at the cafe near by. So stand off ish, in all black, mask on with a cap, no one could see the three collector item kitty cat keychains he had on. Too nervous to wait in line and look out of place, his knee bouncing up and down, phone clutched tight in his hand. Eyes stuck on the growing line, the cute pink, purple and blue’s of the decorations— he loved it. But could he really go in? By himself?

And he’s lucky you walk by, a little ditzy and absentminded, if you hadn’t so loudly gasped and asked if he was going to the cafe next door— someone probably would’ve asked him to leave the premises.

You slap your hand over your mouth, “Sorry, that was loud. But I saw the purple ticket on the table! You have to get in line to get a good seat like… now! Or all the influencers will take your spot.”

His ears burn red, scratching his hair, “Yeah, But… it’s a little-“

“—You like it, don’t you?”

Simon eyes widen a little, “Well, yeah.”

“Then you should enjoy it to the fullest! Dont worry about what other people think!”

And Simon doesn’t even fully register it all, you’re taking his hand and helping him up, “We can sit together! Double the fun when it’s two people, it’s true!” You give him that jaw dropping smile that has his stomach feel like it’s about to flip. A new reason to be nervous taking over.

But he’s thankful for how headstrong you are nonetheless, got a perfect seat by the window with you, got to try to new sweet treats and drinks while thankful the mask he had covering his face his mask to hide the amounts of times he gushed at the cute items and how cute you looked across from him, giggling and taking pictures with and for him. Got a bag full of new merch, a long with a friend to finally talk about his hidden hobby with.

a/n: alt ending where they… “get to know each other” in the car after the event, your face all pressed into his hoodie that smells like him and licking and biting up his neck while he helps you grind your hips against his hard on through his pants . Your panties creating a stain the more your roll your hips, can feel his chub poking you through your sticky folds, don’t even remember how he got that Jean skirt that went to your ankles off of you, but Simon likes how good you look a little disheveled, biting your lip as you say his name that’s still fresh to you in barley a whisper. And Simon can’t help but let out low groan after low groan, the way your ass feels in his calloused hands, how hot you look in that shirt of his favorite mobile game practically squeezing your tits, the way you keep pulling away from kisses to look into his dark brown eyes that match yours— you’ve got the man hooked.

Well, he doesn't do aftercare for himself. John has the decency to wipe you off and make sure you're okay, you wouldn't keep coming back to him otherwise, but when you try to look after him? Complete shut down.

"C'mon, sir, let me take care of you—" you beg for the third time, giving price your best pleading eyes. You run your hand over the hair on his chest, one leg hooked over his waist in that way you know he secretly likes.

"I'm fine." He grunts, shutting down already. Tensing up, about to push you off and escape like he always does when you lean foreward.

"Awww, no fun, sir. At least a kiss?" You pout, holding his jaw and pressing your lips to his. The faint taste of smoke and whisky on his tongue, mixed with the flavor of you.

Price jolts suddenly, pulls back, eyes narrowed "what the hell did i just swallow?"

Your delighted smile is the last thing price sses.

....only to wake up...still in bed? But, no, the sheets have been changed, and price feels different. Mouth minty, teeth brushed when he runs his tongue over them. He smells clean, too, as if he took a shower. Not to mention how for once his knees don't ache to the core.

He narrows his eyes at the ceiling. His wrists are cuffed to the bed.

...there's a weight on his chest, fingers curling into the hair between pecs.

"Glad you're awake, sir. Have some soup cooling off for you." Your voice drifts up.

Really, price should have expected it. That the one person willing to sleep with him consistently is also willing to fucking drug him for the sole purpose of aftercare.

Once they’re back together, Ilya has to decide whether to admit to the most insane thing he’s ever done or try to sell property in a country he doesn’t live in without Shane noticing.

shane starts thinking out loud during a trip up there together about whether he should go ahead and try to buy the adjoining lot in case they want to add a guest house one day or just want more privacy and ilya just

Larger than life, the sheer size of him only more exaggerated by the fact you've always been on the short size. You hear almost everyday how difficult it will be, your supposedly giant baby. Honestly, you're worried too, though you suspect konig is the most stressed.

"I broke the record in my hospital, schatzi. Fifteen pounds. Schatzi, Do you hear me." Which. As one would predict, only served to make you more nervous.

Then the day comes and....they're...small.

Tiny, little babies. Twins, how the hell it was missed it beyond you. Your husband is well over six feet, weighs a solid three hundred and some pounds, and his two new babies can easily be held in one hand each.

As the shock of everything settles in, you both learn that your babies will absolutely scream and wail if konig attempts to hold them normally, only settling properly when curled up in his hands. He's practically crying all the time from how fragile they are compared to him.

Seeing the tiny pairs of socks he sews for them has you crying, too. He loves them so so much.

Your favorite memory is watching the little ones, now a bit older but still so small, snuggling together on konigs back while he naps, enough space they can't easily roll off.

I'm sorry but you cant tell me that someday after Shane and Ilya retired and they've adopted a couple kids, Ilya doesn't find himself laid out on their sofa, Shane asleep and curled into his side with their toddlers snuggled on top of him and a very grey Anya laid on his feet; and just starts sobbing. Like that's his family right there and actually this random tuesday afternoon might be the happiest he's ever been in his whole life. Like that's actually his whole world on the sofa with him and maybe it was all worth it in the end if he gets to have this.🦋

Simon's heart dropped and his blood began to boil. Not supposed to be here? This was the only place he was supposed to be. Lying in the warm grass, holding you in his arms. How could you not want him here?

He'd been to hell and back just to be with you again. How could you push him away like this?

You gently reached, caressing his cheek. "Simon, please. I need you to go back now. I promise I'll see you soon."

Tears welled in Simon's eyes. For the first time in a long time, he begged. "Please, please baby. Let me stay. Please, I need you. Please," he sobbed. "Don't do this to me. Please, I need you. Please, love."

"I love you, Simon Riley"

Simon slowly opened his eyes. Your voice was still ringing in his ears yet here he was, back in the bathroom. The bathroom of the house you used to share. The bathroom where he took all those pills. The pills instead of a bullet because he still wanted to look nice for you. You always said how much you loved seeing his face.

The pill bottle is still there. The dust he never bothered to clean is still there. The hollow, pressing weight in his chest is still there. But something was different. His cheek was warm, the same cheek you touched. He could almost feel your skin against his.

(A/N: Been looking at cod fics and i decided to make my own! Sorry if hes ooc) WC: 244 Dad!Simon who doesn’t hold your twins for the first week they’re born. He stares at them, a girl and a boy, all soft and chubby, clinging to you. He’s scared that he’ll hurt them or that they’ll cry at the sight of him. You managed to sneak up on him, shoving the twins into his arms. He tenses, staring at you like you just betrayed him. Until your daughter reaches for him, her hand curling around his finger.

His heart beats faster, and his world narrows on the two in his arms. His babies. Dad!Simon who refuses to let them sleep in their new beds. He doesn’t want them to grow up, and he doesn’t want them to get bigger. They giggle and try to pull away as Simon places them in between you two, not allowing them to leave you both. You protest against them, but your husband silences you with a kiss, making you giggle. You all sleep together, comfortable and cozy.

Dad!Simon who cries on their first day of school. He doesn’t cry when you take pictures of them in the outfits he picked out. He doesn’t cry when you drop them off, but as soon as you both get home, he just breaks. He wraps his arms around you and sobs into your shoulder. You stroke his back, reassuring him that they’re going to be alright. They’re just getting bigger.

He doesn’t want them to get bigger.

“open your eyes,” he commands you, his voice deep and rough. “I said, open em. are ya gonna piss me off too?”

and so you find it in you to open them despite the embarrassment that sits low in your gut as he ruts himself into you. It’s not hard to make out who’s in front of you. his warm skin and signature hat makes him easy to identify and as your vision focuses, you can make out the crimson on his cheek and the sweat building on his neck.

you look at him, almost apologetically, as if saying “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” because Kyle truly is an angel and the idea of his knowing what your eyes looked like when all fucked out seemed like a sin on its own.

first, he calls out soap for texting you late at night. john fists the hair on your head till you’re facing the scot who’s not looking at your eyes, but somewhere lower. “y’know what couples do at night, Mactavish? I’ll give you a hint.” price snakes his arm between your legs, pinching and rolling your clit to which you let out a pained and delicious mewl.

and next in line is gaz, whose gesture of buying you your favorite foods has gone unliked by price. luckily, Gaz is sitting right next to soap so you don’t have to strain yourself to find him. Gaz knows he shouldn’t stare…but he can’t help himself and surprisingly, the captain hasn’t told anyone to stop so he swallows the lump in his throat, and commits the sight before him to memory.

then there’s ghost, who refuses to acknowledge he has actively done anything. “bullshit. wanna tell me why you’re always staring at her ass?” which shuts the brooding man up immediately.

your orgasm comes quick, as it always did. your words come out broken and desperate but they barely register to your boyfriend who has his own agenda.

your eyes roll back as you climax, the euphoria sending you into a blissful state of haze. but john doesn’t stop, not when he has a point to prove.

so he fucks you through your high, and then he fucks you more. your hand presses against his thigh with no real pressure, sobbing cries of overstimulation.

“after today, i want no more foolery from any of you. I’d suggest you take today for all it’s worth because after tonight, you can all go to your beds and jerk off your pathetic cocks to the memory of this and. nothing. else.” he punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, willing either your legs or the desk legs to give out.

“do i make myself clear?”

Ghost has spent multiple instances fucking you dumb, using all your energy and then some because he's simply that obsessed with you. Yet, you still haven't seen any traditional aftercare from ghost.

His favorite method seems to be food, helping you recover physically from the exertion.

Of course there's the granola bars and electrolyte drinks, but you'll never forget the day he he dissappeared for a bit and came back with a perfectly cooked steak, still butt-naked when he handed you the plate. It even had an adorable little garnish.

Though the time he pulled you into a closet because he had to have you in his mouth, only to pop off and hand you a little fish Keychain he found at the gas station, will always be a fond memory.

Or the time where, after a shower and cuddles, you still seemed down and ghost just wouldn't let it stand. So he decided to build a blanket fort around you in bed as if it were the logical next step.

Does he still need to be reminded to help you wash up or to come for cuddles? Yes, but honestly you love whatever his mind comes up with more. You like how personalized it feels.

....you'll never stop teasing him for the time he prepped sourdough in the oven and timed it specifically for when you'd want a break and when you'd be done.

Slightly NSFW at the end. MDNI

She’d rub herself against him when she was feeling affectionate. She’d drink suspicious amounts of milk. And he could always fascinate her with his laser-flashlight. Her eyes would be fixed on the little dot, her head jerking to follow its movements.

But she had vices too. They’d be cuddling; and all of a sudden, she’d lift her head from nuzzling his chest and start kneading it instead. “Mm! Big tiddies!” She’d growl like a gremlin.

He’d take her along with him to the gym. But she’d spend more time with her jaw hanging open, drool almost dripping, as she stared at them bounce with his exercise.

She’d sneak up behind him, cat-like, and swat his bubble butt. She’d cackle menacingly then slink away. If he were laying on his stomach, she’d knead his ass too. Sometimes she’d poke his cheeks to watch them jiggle.

She hated baths. She’d get in and get right out within five minutes. Simon playfully sprayed her with a hose while they gardened one hot summer day, and he could swear she hissed at him.

He knew cats sometimes licked themselves or others clean. His wife too would sniff and lick him all over when he came home a bit sweaty and basically purr at the experience… but, judging by the slick he'd swipe his fingers and cock through after, he was pretty sure cleaning wasn’t the motive.