Persephone's Musings

he loves winter time with you. winter time when you're wrapped up so warm, in matching hat, gloves and scarf. your thick sweaters, your fluffy boots, those socks you were in bed that are fluffy with the little bears on them.

the fact you like sitting outside of the cafe with him while it's cold like this is a godsend. but you're not drinking the hot chocolate while simon smokes his cigarette, just holding it.

your lips touch the top of the cup, but you're still not drinking it.

"what're you doing, you daft cow?"

it sounds mean, but it's not. he's never mean, even is his words are a little harsh. he's got his arm around your shoulders, blowing the smoke away from you.

"'s too hot to drink," you explain.

he chuckles, a rumble from deep within his chest. "tha's the point of it, hon," he replies (you graduated from love to hon once he put that ring on your finger).

"yeah, but i don't wanna burn myself."

he kisses your head. you do eventually drink the hot chocolate, but only when it's on the cusp of being too cold to drink. if you don't get to finish it, he'll by you another, let you wait for it to cool down and drink as much of it as you can before it goes cold

inspired by this tiktok

it's hard enough being a bug hybrid, many people have certain prejudice against you as-is, but as a hybrid with a "pest" counter-part? you're no stranger to rude and downright mean comments even from peers.

Which is why you're absolutely dumbfounded by ghost of all people approaching you out of nowhere to ask "can I take you on a date?"

You should know better, having been the victim of many 'pranks' in your youth, but something about the open way he says it has you hesitantly agreeing. He's attractive, funny, hopefully nice...it seems like a good idea.

Only for you to end up at a salad bar with a bowl full of leafy greens and fruits while ghost eagerly watches with an untouched plate. He smiles, pushes more towards you "don't be shy, lovie, eat up."

Sure, it's really weird, but not once has he made fun of your antennae or your mouthparts or anything....it's almost...nice?

"Can i try some of your honeydew?" Ghost blurts out in front of your apartment after an eerily silent car ride.

For a second, you're convinced he's joking. You've never met anyone who likes aphid hybrid honeydew, no one. Most don't know what it is. Those piercing brown eyes stay fixed on you unblinkingly, dead serious.

You've never been good at managing impulse, so you chitter happily and tug ghost inside.

"It'll be okay, sweetpea, just be strong for dada, okay?" He rumbles, baby tucked to his chest in the exam room. She's so small and excited, wide eyes taking in the new room, no idea what's about to happen.

But price does, and it tears him up inside.

The nurse has the needle out, and price has to fight the urge to tuck his little girl against his chest and hide her away. Instead, he nods with his face already red in upset and forces out "okay. Do it."

The reaction is instant, baby's hands curling into fists and face twisting with a cry. Wet, innocent eyes turning to stare at her papa as if asking why he did that to her.

The rest of the day, price is inseparable with her.

Keeps her cuddled up in his arms or right in front of him, eye's glassy with remorse. Even when you point out how your daughter has clearly moved on, smashing her toy trains together, he just furrows his brows.

Maybe this was the first reminder.

That some thing's he can never protect from pain. Not even his daughter. Not even you.

When he comes home to an empty house, gutted and trashed with bullet holes in the plaster and no signs of you or his kid, he will think of that exam room.

NikPrice week Day 6 : Alternate Universe

Price's eyes met no recognition in the dark pits that stared back at him, no traces of the man he had known for half of his life, of the man he has fought with for so many years, of the man he had loved.

Instead, he found hatred. A fury like Price had rarely witnessed.

This man had the face of his best friend, but the eyes were all wrong. Long gone was the kindness and gentle mischief that once lived inside them.

Price remembered the crash. The deafening sound of a rocket hitting Nik's helo, the way his heart had stopped beating as he had watched the bird fall from the sky, the shattering inside of his soul as he saw the explosion from behind the short hill.

There had been no time, then, to go retrieve his remains. Too risky, too dangerous, not worth putting someone else's life at risk.

Just like that, his other half had been ripped away from him. A fate they had both known would come, probably sooner than later. It still teared him apart anyway.

She didn’t even have to bribe him with promises to buy lingerie. He’s delighted to spend time with her doing something she’s enjoying.

She sees something she likes before spotting the price tag and promptly putting it back on the rack…Jack is picking it back up and taking it to the register ignoring her protests of “Jack it’s 74 dollars. That is way too expensive for one dress.”

He’s just reaching for his wallet and insisting “but you liked it.”

He is confused by his army and swat buddies complaining about their wives shopping habits…what do they mean they don’t find it satisfying to know their wives are buying things they love and wanting to look nice for them???!! What do they mean they don’t like watching their wives try on sundresses and shoes???

Big, scarred hands gently cradling their little fat bellies, lifting the babies up to splash and wriggle, bouncing them as they squeal. The older ones get the same careful handling, showing them how to float, how to grasp the side wall of the pool- "very good," he tells them in the deep, serious voice children love, as firm as if he was speaking to an adult.

The older children are in a separate class, and crowd Simon at every lesson, bursting all over to tell him about something new they learned, as he sections them out and starts moving down the line, prompting backstrokers and doggy paddlers alike.

The first time he yelled- used his dad voice, one boy whispered delightedly- it was not to the kids but a parent, more occupied with fluttering her lashes at him than keeping an eye on her kid, too far into the deep end and spluttering.

It's why you bring your kids to his classes specifically- he doesn't mess around, doesn't play favorites or let the kids break rules, sets them up for success instead of failure, and if the soaked, long-sleeve black shirt and matching swim pants cling deliciously when he finishes and climbs out, well, what's the harm in looking?

You’re the last edition to the 141.

CW: fem!reader, reader described as tall and muscular

Based on this request.

You’re new to the 141. A last minute edition by Laswell to the squad. She was fine with Price’s team, then you came back from leave and she knew you had to be on the task force.

So here you were, freshly off vacation, on a new base with a new team.

Well, new-ish. You’ve worked with Gaz and Price before on a mission before, but Soap and Ghost are brand new to you.

Price had warned you about the guys before you arrived. Soap was going to be -extremely- friendly, and Ghost was going to be dry.

You were shocked when Ghost actually pulled you into a nice conversation upon your meeting. He asked about your tattoos, your military history, and your involvement in the mission with a level of empathy you were unfamiliar with.

While you were relaxing into a blossoming friendship, Ghost was freaking out.

He’d never seen such a beautiful woman before.

You were just shy of an inch shorter than him, with the same build. Thick muscles with a soft layer of fat over your thighs and stomach that strained against your fatigues.

He was instantly whipped.

Price eventually pulled you away to get you acquainted with the base’s layout and Soap took the opportunity to slide next to Ghost.

“You’ve got it bad for that Bonnie, aye lad?” He teased and nudged Ghost’s bicep.