from a game i have never played representing an organization i hate. please be of age before interacting. this is not a safe space for ai users. 23, she/her.
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the first time your daughter walks, the whole house goes stock-still.
you're at the sink, wrist-deep in warm water, washing dishes. john, sat at the breakfast nook with the paper and tea. you had set the baby down on her play mat to keep her busy, but she's apparently grown bored of her small world.
the moment john sees her, he abandons his reading and swings off the bench, opening his arms to her.
she puts one wobbling foot after another, babbling as she slowly crosses the floor. neither of you breathe. her tiny arms windmill as she closes the distance to her father, at last pitching forward into his waiting arms with a squeal. john laughs, delightedly hauling her up against his chest while she giggles and takes big handfuls of his beard. she swivels toward you with a big smile, and john catches your eye over the crown of her head.
here it is. the future john dreamed of and whispered to you night after night for years.
you both spend the day coaxing her to wander around the cabin. he takes her outside to walk the garden and along the fence at the property line.
later, after supper and a bath, you lay her down in her crib and soon enough, she's fast asleep. she sprawls, mouth stuck open, one tiny fist curled under her chin. you watch her for a long while, still in a daze of how your life has changed yet again in the span of a single day. tomorrow, john'll have to check every room with fresh eyes, reassessing all his baby-proofing so far. he'll think about what she can reach now, what she'll pull herself up on, and any escape route she might discover.
he's leaning in the door frame when you turn to leave, backlit with the hallway light. you go to his side and tuck into it like he likes, and together you stand in silence for a few minutes more. eventually, he presses a kiss to your head and takes you to bed.
it's better because he's happy. slower and gentler.
"remember when you used to cry an' cry about this? used to beg me to not come in you," he grunts as he bottoms out. "hard to believe, isn't it."
he slows to slip his hand beneath your chin, tilting your face up just enough for his thumb to rub along the collar locked around your neck. it's long since softened from years of wear, so soft that you often forget you're wearing it.
this post is dedicated forevermore to three people i just saw tonight outside the gay club in the most beautiful interaction of beautiful people i’ve ever seen in my life. it was so beautiful i had to come here to talk about it. like actually writing it out is fucking insane. let me set the scene: two of the hottest men i’ve ever seen in my life were making out with each other outside the gay club…and then picture the HOTTEST woman, i mean quite literally the fucking SEXIEST, jaw-dropping, smoothest skin, nicest-smelling woman running up to the both of them from out of nowhere, i don’t even know where she came from — literally she probably descended from heaven itself (or from the inside of the club and i didn’t see her come out lmao)…the two men see her out of the corner of their eyes, their eyes fucking LIGHT UP when they see her. and not in like a bestie way, like an “i’m in love” way. oh bitch they both had it BAD for her. and THEN!!!! they passionately kissed…ALL THREE OF THEM!!! THEY HAD HER PUSHED AGAINST THE WALL TAKING TURNS KISSING HER!!! and then like the ethereal creatures of the night they were, they locked hands with her, and walked away into the foggy night hand-in-hand together…one of the men gently tucked one of her locs behind her ear and called her princess as they walked away…i would like to personally say, i am a better person for having watched that interaction. thank you. your life is a movie and i was so glad i got to be an extra in that moment. this is the future liberals want and all that
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i will forever be a fuckbuddies!soap and gaz-truther… the two shared one (1) drunken kiss at an off-base party and something shifted in them… gaz goes to find soap when he needs to work off some stress or adrenaline, soap seeks out gaz when he’s bored or too pent up from thirsting over their lieutenant. they’ve done it in every broom closet on base and ever corner of the weapons locker. they get in quickies in the parked jeeps and when it’s only the two of them in the communal showers. on quiet evenings on base one of them will knock on the other’s door to have some fun. doesn’t even have to be a real fuck, a good makeout session goes a long way and leaves much less to clean up. on nights out they’ll start out sharing a willing lady and often end up more engrossed in each other than her. when they’re stationed in a hotel following a successful op they make sure to volunteer to bunk up together, claiming it’s to save costs, not admitting it’s because of the king size bed and soaking tub. they’re just really good bros, just guys being dudes. just friends looking out for each other, helping the other relieve pressure.
Something something, you innocently make a comment about "having a mommy pooch without being a mommy".
And Price going absolutely feral, unhinged, deranged caveman, at the thought of being the one responsible for that deeply intimate body alteration.
So the next time he has you in bed -hands all over your soft navel, pressing down on your womb, trying to feel himself inside you- he can't stop his mouth from spilling all these thoughts.
“Shit, I’m gonna come, baby. Let me come inside you. Please, let me come inside you,” he begs so pretty. “Let me breed you, babygirl.”
i lovelovelove it when in soapxreader stories the first thing reader notices about soap is the nasty scar on his temple. it always means some deliciously unhinged shit is coming up
half-humourusly tells you to walk it off. when you don’t laugh, he calls in sick too and stays home to take care of you. he can do paperwork from anywhere and lord knows there’s always some paperwork to do. honestly, you did him a favour. now he has an excuse to get ahead on all those reports and forms he hasn’t had the time for yet. carries you, blanket and all, to the couch in the living room. makes you your favourite tea and puts on the tv for you. sits himself down in an armchair next to you with his laptop, one hand on the keyboard and the other one stroking your hair while you doze.
… kyle
takes care of you like nursing was his second job. knows exactly what is in your medicine cabinet and what is an effective ailment for whatever you happen to have. if you have a cold, he insists on opening all the windows in the house to let in clean, fresh air (he did a stint on a german base where he learned this trick) an dabs a menthol salve on edges of your nostrils to relieve your stuffy nose. if your head is killing you, he makes sure you have water and a healthy snack nearby and keeps the house dark and quiet. if you’re having a depressive episode and simply can’t take care of yourself, he undresses you gently and showers with you, giving you all the love he has.
… johnny
insists on making out with you so you can be miserable together. nothing sounds better to him than an excuse which enables him to laze about all day in bed with you. even when you tell him no sex in the middle of a coughing fit, he doesn’t let up. you don’t allow him to kiss you but him getting sick was inevitable when you live in the same house (and he refused to let you sleep alone on the couch, even though you insisted. the crook of your neck is his happy place.). so when you’re past the worst of it and on the mend again and, he’s just getting started with his round. come to think of it, you could still use a couple more days of rest, so you join him in bed, even though all you can do is hold his hand while he moans and groans from the man flu.
… simon
tries his best even though he has no idea what he’s doing because nobody has ever done it for him. but really, he does step up. his first instinct when something is wrong is always to make tea, so in the period you’re under the weather there’s always a perfectly warm mug of tea on the nightstand. while you’re functionally passed out with fever he calls price for advice and frantically googles proper protocols for how to best help you. in the end he’s put two pairs of socks on your feet and covered you with an additional blanket to keep you warm and opened the windows to keep you cool. he sits in a chair next to your bed and nervously watches your chest rise and fall. usually he has the patience of a saint (and a sniper) but without you to guide him, he doesn’t quite know how to handle domestic life.
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almost became a medical examiner, but was never one for the actual medicine and was always better at the examination part. transitioned into administrative work and problem solving and now thrives on leading other professionals in the pursuit of justice. makes all the executive decisions on the criminal cases he’s put in charge of, although that often includes arguments with simon, who draws his own conclusions based on his work and will sometimes act on his own. never hesitates to bend the rules if it means it can help him get a piece of evidence or a conviction in the end.
… forensic chemist and biologist!kyle
loves the analysis of it all. loves going out to crime scenes and gather little bits of evidence to take home and get them to make sense. always writes reports that are too long, but incredibly thorough. in half an hour he can figure out when and where somebody died by analysing the lining of their lungs, or where they grew up by analysing their teeth. finds dead bodies a little icky so he sticks to the slightly more peripheral stuff - but still makes sure that everyone knows the case couldn’t have been solved if he hadn’t figured out the chemical composition of the murder weapon. scary smart in the cool way.
… arson investigator and ballistics expert!johnny
knows a thing or two because he’s seen a thing or two (and done a thing or two…). can do a lap in a completely burnt out building and then confidently point out ignition area and method. can look at an entry or exit wound from ten meters away and determine caliber without checking the bullet. still, will often pull kyle away from his work to have him help him with his pseudo-experiments under the guise of trying to recreate what happened at the crime scene. lives for field work, could never work purely with theory. scary smart, in the unhinged way.
… forensic pathologist and anthropologist!simon
feels completely at home around death. actually prefers corpses to living people because they’re predictable and never lie. working around dead bodies also gives him an excuse to constantly wear a medical mask. visitors from other departments and agencies think he’s law enforcement muscle because of his imposing stature, but most of his work involves autopsy, tissue removal, skeletal analysis and the accompanying lab work. loves nothing more than to spend long evenings and nights with an incomplete skeleton to figure out everything about the person’s life and death. this habit of haunting around the lab at night has earned him the nickname ghost.
accompanies you in the kitchen. pours you each a glass of wine while you cook. he doesn’t have much in the skill department but he still knows to appreciate good food and especially the person who’s making it for him. you give him tasks that are simple enough for him to do but still important enough to stroke his ego. wonder who chopped these onions so evenly, he says and you hum. lets you nowhere near the grill, however. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you with it or thinks he can do a better job, it’s just that he thinks a woman shouldn’t have to grill her own meat.
favourite dish to cook with you: medium rare steak with roast potatoes, caramelised brussel sprouts and homemade bearnaise (the kind you can scoop with a fork). malbec in the glass.
… kyle
preens. absolutely loves cooking with you. you’re good in the kitchen but he’s better, which seems to be the case no matter what activity he’s doing. still, he knows the important part isn’t the finished meal but the process of making it. has stopped directly kissing you while you cook because you both get so lost in the sauce that you end up burning whatever’s in the pan. but does all the other lovey dovey stuff. swipes whipped cream on you cheeks and kisses it off, slaps your ass when his hand is full of flour to leave a handprint there and shares an asparagus with you mouth to mouth (you appreciate the gesture even though asparagus-flavoured kisses aren’t something you’re keen to repeat).
favourite dish to cook with you: honey orange glazed salmon with couscous and roasted veggies. vermentino in the glass.
… johnny
is relieved and slightly ashamed. he’s not much of a cook and he realises he should be better at it, at his big age. knows exactly three recipes by heart and all contain store bought diy-packs of freeze dried powder. dates with takeout is romantic but only the first few times and he is painfully aware. attempts to boil pasta before you arrive for your fourth date and nearly starts a fire in the kitchen. needless to say you get takeout that night too, but after that you start teaching him a new recipe from scratch every time you meet up. weekly date nights in after you move in, where you cook together. likes chopping vegetables for you but you’re still in danger of having your skirt flipped up and him eating you out while you prepare the au jus.
favourite dish to cook with you: hot chicken curry on rice with shirazi salad and homemade naan. irn bru in the glass. (you can take the man out of scotland…)
… simon
warily embraces it. he’s not much of a cook and the chippy on the corner has good weekend deals, so he doesn’t cook a lot of his dinners. lucky for him, you enjoy cooking and he enjoys keeping you company and sitting quietly with half lidded eyes and a glass of bourbon while you flit around the kitchen and share workplace gossip. but although he doesn’t cook much, he bakes. excels especially with savoury doughs but makes sweet treats for his darling too. you make sure to ask him often to whip up a batch of scones or start a sour dough loaf, even if the last one came out of the oven just yesterday. you love to eat what he makes, sure, but you also love seeing him push his sleeves up and work the dough.
favourite dish to cook with you: focaccia. he makes the bread, you make assorted side dished and you share a charcuterie board. riesling your glass, more bourbon in his.
On the last post you did about cod with dogs. How do they feel about cats
if you're a cat person...
... john
goes along with it. sure, why not. you need something to keep you company when he's deployed and the gremlin you picked up from facebook marketplace seems harmless enough. in the beginning he's indifferent towards it and treats it like a merely a house guest - he's polite towards it and fills the kibble bowl when it's empty, but not much more. this is your project, not his. however, when he comes home from deployment with a concussion and a broken leg and is bedbound for a few weeks, the little thing parks itself on his chest and purrs up a storm, refusing to move. you're not entirely sure what happened between them but when he, two weeks later, emerges from the bedroom on crutches, the cat weaves inbetween his legs and he mutters softly to it as he 'accidentally' drops a piece of sandwich meat on the floor.
... kyle
always kinda liked cats. most guys in his circles go for dogs to keep up the tough guy-image, but he never really saw the appeal in keeping a large, drooling, smelly, loud animal around when he instead can have a small, silent little thing that cleans itself daily. yeah, he always fancied himself more of a cat guy. the day after you move in you go down to the shelter together to find a little guy to bring home. turns out you're both bleeding hearts because you eventually leave with four separate carriers, each containing a furry angel. the first few weeks are chaos, but eventually everyone settles down and finds their place. the tuxedo is a foodie. the tabby is an outstanding hunter. the bobtail likes to sleep between you in bed. the orange is... well, orange.
... johnny
isn't pleased. at first, that is. he never envisioned himself as a whisker whisperer. the farm cats back home were never too pleased to see him and neither was he to see them. when you sat down with him and had the talk - johnny, i really, really want a cat - he seriously considered ending it. the thought of sharing the house with a little furry devil nauseated him. he even considered wing-manning his lt into your life, because he knew simon liked cats and he was sure you could grow to love him, if it meant you could have a cat. johnny, at least, couldn't give you that. at least that's what he thought, until he one rainy day was stuck in traffic on the motorway and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. he couldn't at a glance tell what it was, only that it was small and wet and hairy and halfway hidden under a plastic bag on the side of the road. the traffic in front suddenly starts moving and he acts on instinct when he darts out of the car, fishes the pathetic thing out of the dirt and throws it and himself back into the car again before the cars behind can start honking. when he's buckled in and the car in motion again, he looks over to the passenger seat and realises he's rescued himself a cat. well, he can't exactly deposit it back on the side of the road again now, can he. and when you pester him about it a few years later, he adamantly says that liking this one traffic cat currently perched on his lap doesn't make him a cat guy.
... simon
takes it as given. cat dad supreme. he simply wouldn't date anyone who didn't like cats. shows you pictures of his cats on the second date, introduces you on the third. has two, one purebred oriental shorthair purchased from a breeder and one scruffy, three legged tabby mix with a crooked tail and permanent scowl from where its lip was ripped open. that one simon found in the dumpster behind his block of flats. it was yowling so loud he couldn't sleep and eventually he went out to beat up whoever was making all that noise. when he realised it was a cat, a supremely dirty, ugly, injured one at that, he begrudginly took it to the best veterinarian in the manchester, bedgrudingly paid for the best cat food the pet store had and bedgrudingly gave up his pillow when the cat made it clear it preferred to sleep there. acdbs (Assigned Cat Dad By Stray). the purebred was a drunken purchase on a whim when he decided he wanted to give the dumpster cat the best possible sibling, and expensive must mean good.
is happy to indulge you. probably wouldn’t get a dog on his own if he hadn’t met you, but you love them and he loves you. after a few months of ownership he admits that it’s nice to have someone around who is always happy to see him (he says this with a wink) and who can keep him quiet company while he’s doing paperwork. would probably get a retriever of some kind, like a chesapeake, with a friendly disposition but still some heft and willingness to protect. it is after all the dog’s job to look after you when he’s not there to do it himself. you, however, absolutely pamper the little darling, who is more than happy to be spoiled by you. john is only a little jealous, until he remembers it’s a literal dog. grows to love the dog like a dad who didn’t want a cat loves said cat.
… kyle
sees it as an opportunity. the scruffy schnauzer puppy currently in your arms is a dry run. in a few years, when the puppy phase is well and truly over and the hairy menace has become a steady, reliable family dog, he’ll talk you into a baby. be a shame not to give our firstborn someone to play with, luv, he mutters while the three of you are relaxing in bed one night (initially he didn’t want the dog on the furniture, but you won that battle the first night. two against one, you reminded him, and he couldn’t resist two pairs of big eyes staring at him like that). he’s sure you’ll warm up to the thought in due time. in the meantime, he agrees dogs are neat animals, and happily follows your instructions to only use matching sets of leashes and collars - winnie can be a little picky.
… johnny
takes it as a given. what’s not to love? although, he’s used to the serious border collies at the family farm and the nasty terrier across the street, so he’s very relieved when you suggest a cocker spaniel. a happy, eager, hard-working little dog with endless zest is perfect for him (also the name makes him laugh). it’s almost like the dog becomes his second best friend - luckily kyle is a gentleman and keeps his jealousy contained. johnny and the little liver coloured dog do everything together. daily runs and general tricks and obedience is obvious. in addition he takes up hunting and in one trip the dog learns to both flush and retrieve birds. he also speaks to the dog trainers at base and soon has the little beast sniffing out all sorts of explosives (which turns into a problem when johnny comes home from deployment and the dog doesn’t stop alerting on him).
… simon
is relieved. knows you won’t be disappointed or annoyed when he introduces you to the ancient, half-blind, limping german shepherd he refuses to leave in the care of a foster home. just because riley’s finished her service doesn’t mean that he’s finished with her. he’ll take care of her until her dying breath, because she has saved his life in more ways than one. you happily look after the little angel while he’s deployed, preparing her fancy raw food and folding the blankets on her bed just so. when simon is home, you talk him into lifting her up on the couch with you to be coddled while you all watch your favourite show. after a year or so you surprise them both with a german shepherd puppy - not to replace riley when the time comes, but to learn from her so that it can take over her duties to simon and you when she can’t anymore.
why, of course his tsarina will have a dog. a whole pack of dogs, if he can help it. when you utter the words on your third date (or rather, your third meeting - is it really a date when he corners you in the pub and tells the bartender to get you two shots of his best vodka?), that you one day want a dog of your very own, a plan forms in his mind. the next time you meet him he’s goaded you into waiting for him at the runway of a small independent airport and you watch him land a vintage little cessna. he climbs out of the cockpit and then lifts out what you initially think is a lanky stuffed animal - but as he gets closer, you realise he’s brought you a borzoi puppy. straight from the motherland, he chuckles heartily and hands you the spindly thing. he’s flown it all the way here, so what are you supposed to do? you can’t help but accept it. and nik? he’s never really understood why a ring is the end all, be all of engagements. a puppy can also symbolise his eternal love - he just has to convince you of the same.
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is happy to indulge you. probably wouldn’t get a dog on his own if he hadn’t met you, but you love them and he loves you. after a few months of ownership he admits that it’s nice to have someone around who is always happy to see him (he says this with a wink) and who can keep him quiet company while he’s doing paperwork. would probably get a retriever of some kind, like a chesapeake, with a friendly disposition but still some heft and willingness to protect. it is after all the dog’s job to look after you when he’s not there to do it himself. you, however, absolutely pamper the little darling, who is more than happy to be spoiled by you. john is only a little jealous, until he remembers it’s a literal dog. grows to love the dog like a dad who didn’t want a cat loves said cat.
… kyle
sees it as an opportunity. the scruffy schnauzer puppy currently in your arms is a dry run. in a few years, when the puppy phase is well and truly over and the hairy menace has become a steady, reliable family dog, he’ll talk you into a baby. be a shame not to give our firstborn someone to play with, luv, he mutters while the three of you are relaxing in bed one night (initially he didn’t want the dog on the furniture, but you won that battle the first night. two against one, you reminded him, and he couldn’t resist two pairs of big eyes staring at him like that). he’s sure you’ll warm up to the thought in due time. in the meantime, he agrees dogs are neat animals, and happily follows your instructions to only use matching sets of leashes and collars - winnie can be a little picky.
… johnny
takes it as a given. what’s not to love? although, he’s used to the serious border collies at the family farm and the nasty terrier across the street, so he’s very relieved when you suggest a cocker spaniel. a happy, eager, hard-working little dog with endless zest is perfect for him (also the name makes him laugh). it’s almost like the dog becomes his second best friend - luckily kyle is a gentleman and keeps his jealousy contained. johnny and the little liver coloured dog do everything together. daily runs and general tricks and obedience is obvious. in addition he takes up hunting and in one trip the dog learns to both flush and retrieve birds. he also speaks to the dog trainers at base and soon has the little beast sniffing out all sorts of explosives (which turns into a problem when johnny comes home from deployment and the dog doesn’t stop alerting on him).
… simon
is relieved. knows you won’t be disappointed or annoyed when he introduces you to the ancient, half-blind, limping german shepherd he refuses to leave in the care of a foster home. just because riley’s finished her service doesn’t mean that he’s finished with her. he’ll take care of her until her dying breath, because she has saved his life in more ways than one. you happily look after the little angel while he’s deployed, preparing her fancy raw food and folding the blankets on her bed just so. when simon is home, you talk him into lifting her up on the couch with you to be coddled while you all watch your favourite show. after a year or so you surprise them both with a german shepherd puppy - not to replace riley when the time comes, but to learn from her so that it can take over her duties to simon and you when she can’t anymore.
