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Highschool sweethearts .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡
Teenager! Simon 'Ghost' Riley x teenager!gn reader
!!warnings: fluff, Ghost is a bit mean in the beginning, no gendered pronouns used for the reader, Ghost is 17, reader is 15-16, slow burn
English isn't my first language! I apologize for any gramatical mistakes
You were a junior, you had a small group of friends that shared the same interested, nothing bigger than four people just so you didn't had to eat alone at lunch.
There was this boy in your biology class, Simon Riley, some close people called him Ghost for some reason, you didn't know why. He was always wearing a black mask, covering half of his face, like if he was sick but he wasn't, you saw him playing volleyball wearing that mask and he definitely wasn't sick. He was always quiet in the class, just taking notes and looking through the window, you would be lying to yourself if you didn't thought he was at least a bit attractive.
Your friend, Kelly, who was a social butterfly, managed to know a bit about him. He only has one friend in his grade, a scottish foreigner and the other 2 was a senior and a freshman, they all had silly nicknames for each other but she couldn't discovered what were the nicknames. He always stayed in the school library reading something after class and he smoked cigarettes in the school field every Saturday at 11am and his favorite drink is tea. You didn't question her how she knew those thing, she just did.
You were in the biology class and the teacher assigned everyone a project, to make a resume of the books chapter that you had read the whole semester, It was a pair work... That the teacher would choose the pairs, pratically everyone complained but she did it anyway. It was simple, everyone had a number, if you are number 1, your pair is number 2, if your number is number 3, your pair is number 4 and such. You were number 7 and it just happened that Simon was number 8, he looked at you and then back at the teacher when she announced that you were his pair, he seemed... Almost annoyed.
It was Friday and the project had to be delivered on Monday, so you and Simon had the whole weekend to do it. You decided to talk with Simon after class to discuss where you two would meet to do the project but you couldn't find him anywhere so you had to ask the other students, none of them knew where he was until you meet one particular student, that one that had a scottish accent and a mohawk.
The boy said to you that Simon was really, really introverted and didn't liked people in his house unless that he was friends with them... And he didn't liked befriending with other juniors for some reason, despite that, the boy — that you learned the name was John MacTavish... Or Soap—, gave you Simon's address and said that, to not upset him, to bring him something as a gift, especially tea and gave you Simon's phone number before having to go.
The next day was Saturday, you woke up early and got ready, taking a shower and dressing comfortably, not caring too much about how you look, you took your notebook, laptop, pens and of course, some chamomile tea, hoping he would like it.
You took the bus to his neighborhood and knocked at his door. After a few minutes waiting, Simon opens the door, he seems like he just woke up, his hair messy and his eyes looks heavy. His eyebrows frowns, he apparently didn't liked seeing you here. "What do you want?" He says, his voice deep as ever. "The science project." You answered, looking at him, trying to sound friendly.
"it's fuckin' ten in the morning, go back to your house. We have until Monday to do this shit and I don't want to do it today, go wash some dishes or a laundry and leave me alone." He spitted, closing the door, not leaving space for you to talk. You were surprised, you didn't expected the quiet, introverted Simon to be like that. You were determined! You has things to do tomorrow and you need this project ready today.
You knock on the door again, "Go away!" He yells, "I have something for you!" You yell back and after a few minutes of silence, he opens the door and you show him the chamomile tea box, he looks at you and then at the box and grabs it, "come in." He says, his voice tired and he opens the door to you. You step inside, taking off your shoes and leaving it at the doorway.
The house was kinda messy, a lot of boxes here and there, especially of pizzas and the kitchen smelled like tea. "Where are your parents?" You asks Simon, following him inside the house. "They're on vacation and they decided I'm old enough to be home alone." He mumbles and then turns to you.
"Who gave you my address?" He questions, crossing his arms. You were slightly intimidated, he was so big for a teenager, it was probably good genetics and maybe gym? you never saw him working out. Maybe the fact he was always dressing hoodies and sweaters that covered his whole body also helped how you never noticed.
You gulps and looks at him, "John." You replies, he frowns slightly, "what John? I know a lot of Johns." He rolls his eyes. "Uh... MacTavish? Soap?" You nervously answers. He sighs and chuckles, "of course, Soap." He teased and then started to prepare the tea, taking a kettle and filling it with water, boiling it on the stove.
The following minutes are silent, he wasn't looking at you, you just wanted to do the project and get out of there. You open your mouth but then hesitated, so stayed quiet. "Are you going to stay there stare at me?" Simon looked at you from over his shoulder, making you feel small even if you two didn't had a big height difference.
You look away and shakes your head in an no and he turns back to the kettle, he puts the tea bag in the boiling water and waits a few minutes before turning off the heat and pouring the tea into a cup. He drinks it and sighs, his face softening. He then turns to you, "You want some?" He offers, you hesitantly nods, he pours some tea into a cup and hands it to you. You drink it and being honest, you didn't liked tea much but this one tasted good.
Simon smiles a bit, it seems like tea brings him to a better mood, "What's your name?" He asks, you frowns a bit, you two were a duo project and he didn't know your name... You tell him your name and he nods. You two talk for a while, drinking tea.
It was now 12pm and you had things to do at 2pm, so you interrupts him. "Let's do the project, I need to go in a few hours." His smile fades and he nods. He leads you to his bedroom upstairs, you take your laptop from your backpack and you two sit on the floor and starts working on the project. You two were finished at exactly 1:40pm, the project wasn't perfect but it had to be that because you were a busy person and didn't had time tomorrow.
"oh god, I'm gonna be late for my volleyball practice." You panics, quickly organizing everything. You didn't had a driving license yet so you had to take the bus that took a long time to arrive so you will definitely be late... "I'll drive you there." Simon says, taking you out of your trance, "Really? You don't need to, i can take the bus-" "Yeah, let's go, c'mon." He cuts you off.
He takes your hand and your backpack for you, walking you to the garage. You jump into the passenger seat and he goes to the driver seat, you give him the address of the place and he starts driving as fast as legally as possible. Your hair flying in the wind as you laugh.
You arrive at the place a bit late, like 5 minutes late but it's better than 30 minutes late at least. You jump out of the car fast and runs to the entrance, "see you at Monday!" You yell at Simon and waves at him beflre entering, he waves back and you can see a weak smile on his face.
Is this the start of something more than a friendship?
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🌸 my requests are open by the way! Hope you enjoyed. I'm sorry if it it's too small, I'm still learning :)
it doesn't matter what you're doing. could be lifting, could be tying your damn shoelaces. soap is in your corner like you're about to shatter a world record. you're kneeling down to stretch your calves before starting your actual workout, barely even breathing hard yet, and from across the gym, a certain scotsman's voice literally echoes. "LET'S GOO, Y/N!!" you flinch so hard you almost pull something. soap's hyped (what is he on?), clapping his hands like you just deadlifted a helicopter. ghost, somewhere behind you, mutters, "for fuck's sake, mactavish." sighs into his hoodie like he regrets all his life choices. but makes no move to stop him. wooow... so nice of him... "I'm literally just stretching." you point out, trying to wave him off. keyword: TRYING. he squats down next to you (his ass jiggled btw, it's the physics of that thang) like an overenthusiastic couch. “Aye, and ye’re listnin’ it! Stretch those muscles, champion! Ye’re killin’ it, wee yin!” you haven't even started your actual workout, hell, hadn't even finished stretching, and somehow you already feel like you've been through an entire motivational seminar. with a sports commentator presenting. price pretends to not know any of you. you're the only ones in the base gym. yet, he sees simon only. proceeds to walk by and mutter something about "bloody children" under his breath. wow. i see how it is... gaz decides to make it worse. thanks a lot! really helpful, pooks. before you know it, two men are squatting next to you. blink twice if you need help. “let’s get it, superstar!” he yells. “show that yoga mat who’s boss!”
soap fist-bumps him. “see?! that’s teamwork, baby!” price leaves the room. you turn the volume up for your music. --- writer's note: is this cringe? i literally can't tell. anyway, I think I'd cry if this happened to me. #justiceforreader!!
some habits need pysch evaluations. John Price - sleep? what is that? he doesn't trust sleep. literally sets alarms every 90 minutes. reasoning? "just in case." - tea tempering. he brews his tea like it's a blood ritual. if someone dares microwave water, he looks at them like it's treason. - talks to himself. mutters FULL conversations under his breath. gaz once heard him win an argument against himself in three different accents. at least he won. - smokes in the rain. claims it "feels cleaner." soap is convinced he's just romanticising depression. (he is) - stares into the middle distance. like he's waiting for nameless dread to walk through a door. you mimicked it once, he looked over, then proceeded to nod in approval. Simon "Ghost" Riley - refuses to touch public doorknobs. always uses his sleeve or foot. - watches people sleep. not in a creepy way (trust me, I'm the bedframe). he just stands there. he especially does it with you, because he just wants to make sure you're sleeping alright :(( - silent meals. eats like he's in a hostage negotiation. no chewing sounds. no talking. just... silence. like the silence where you can hear your own sins echo. John "Soap" Mactavish - wears mismatched socks on purpose. - eats raw instant ramen like chips. straight up bites it. no shame. (but is being shamed) - shower karaoke. full concert. echoes through base walls. - keeps a stress ball. not for squeezing. but for throwing. he throws the ball at people. - talks in third person during high-adrenaline moments. "soap's got this. soap doesn't die today." when you ask who soap is, his response is: "the main character lass/lad" - carries 7 knives. refers to them by name. one is named "susan." do not ask why. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - schedules his breakdowns. like it's a business meeting. always 4pm sharp, and he brings snacks. - corrects people's grammar while being shot at. soap once yelled "WHERE THEY AT" gaz's response? "where are they, you mean" - colour codes his gear. not because it's practical, but because it looks nice. - keeps a spreadsheet of everyone's favourite snacks. he'll randomly give you your favourite crisps at the end of a mission :D - gossips. like full-on podcast voice when gossiping with you. soap joins in sometimes. gossip girls... remastered. --- writer's note: hi again! second post :) again, I'm writing this at 8am with no sleep. literally dying rn. apologies if there are any typos. much love xx
John Price - his dad energy (soap has once called him dad.) would 100% ground you then sneak you snacks. gaz got him a 'world's best dad' mug. - swears like poetry. shakespeare, if shakespeare smoked cigars - still doesn't know what "slay" means and doesn't want to. (or whatever gaz says) - rbf? nooo... its "I'm not mad I'm disappointed in you" face Simon "Ghost" Riley - the mask stays on. even in 40°C heat. (but he does take it off when the tf141 is alone) - always lurking like a cryptid in a hoodie. "like batman... but if batman didn't like fun" - gaz's wise words. (i can confirm, I'm his hat) - somehow managing to be the most dramatic one without saying a word - moving silently and scaring the soul out of everyone... John "Soap" Mactavish - his hair routine. that mohawk is constantly abused with gel. it could stay still in a hurricane... - being the loudest in every scenario, like the walls owe him rent. - stealth's arch-nemesis (ghost's words) - his scottish rage... has "talked the chair into submission" after stubbing his toe. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - knows exactly what "falsies" and "baking" means. blames his sisters. (I hc him having two) - spends an hour+ doing recon and comes back with relationship tea. - his skincare routine. full beauty influencer, "you look like you moisturise with angel tears", soap's words. - similar lines, but his eyebrows. could slice bread with how sharp his eyebrows are. - diva.
--- writer's note:
hihi!! this is my first time writing headcanons (and posting them to the public)... so hopefully these are okay! it's 9am and I still haven't slept (studying for exams). #grindandrise /j. feel free to request or send an ask. much love xx
Price is the true father of the party.😂
Panic attack
Summary: The ghost helps you during a panic attack.
pairing: ghost x reader
(Author's note:this is the first time i post a fic in english, besides being the first one i'm posting on tumblr. Hope you like it.)
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"Heart racing, palms sweating cold, chest pain, severe vertigo... Just a few signs of a panic attack. It wasn't normal for something like that to happen, and when it did, at most you could feel your palms starting to sweat.
At that moment, you were in your room, lying on the cold floor while hugging your own knees and breathing hard, trying and failing miserably to calm down.
The reason? To your surprise, your mentor, the man who made you one of the best agents in the 141, was on base. You were told that he had been there for some time to assist with some missions. Why so afraid? Why get so scared and panic?
From the age of fifteen to twenty-three, you were tormented and used to being beaten, punched and kicked, mostly in the face, stomach and ribs, often drugged to create resistance. The list was still long, he made you lose your fear of many things and also become afraid of many things, and one of those things was him. Seeing his face, hearing his voice and even feeling his hand on your shoulder was enough to make you sick. you believed that you would be away from him, that you would never need to see his face again, but no, it seems that you would not get rid of him so soon. Soap noticed that you didn't seem well right off the bat, he tried to talk to you, but at the time it wasn't something you needed, you were so out of control it was possible you'd end up punching Mactavish in the face. Price also noticed, he was practically like a father to you, and obviously he cared like one. And at the moment you wouldn't want to talk to him right now.
The truth was that you believed that you could and that you should deal and face it alone, your mentor made you believe that, that you didn't need anyone's help.
As you tried to normalize your breathing, you heard a knock on the door, followed by a very familiar voice.
— I know you're not okay. I'll go in.
Ghost...The last person you expected to come after you.
— No... You can't come in!
—I didn't ask your permission, Sergeant.
His voice resounded almost like the rumble of thunder. And in that moment, you were stupid not to lock the door. When you saw the doorknob start to be turned, you quickly got up and ran towards the door, when Simon soon started to enter, you pushed him out, but it was useless, he was bigger and stronger, and easily entered the room, closing the door behind him. Giving up, you returned to sit on the floor again, soon putting one of your hands on your face, then sighing shakily. You knew he was looking at you, analyzing and seeing your state. He already knew what you were feeling, and he clearly understood that you weren't willing to talk at the moment. You started to press your nails against the back of his hand, it started to hurt without even realizing it, but he noticed.
Without warning, The ghost grabbed your wrist, which startled you and slapped his hand away.
— DO NOT TOUCH ME!
The two of you made eye contact before Ghost grabbed your wrists and pulled you into a hug, pulling you close so you had your back to him, making it impossible for you to hit or kick him. his strong arms held you, pressing your back against his chest as you struggled and tried to break free of him, you failed miserably.
— DÉJAME IR HIJO DE PUTA!
You cursed him. It wasn't out of malice, but you felt in complete despair.
— I'm only going to let you go when I think it's okay.
— LET ME GO!
— We've been through this before, remember?...
Yep, you had a panic attack on one of your first 141 missions. You were trapped in a small enemy base by yourself, having to deal with a bunch of enemies on your own. When your companions finally managed to enter the place, the first to find you was Simon. You were hurt, tired, bloodstained, but still full of adrenaline, and for a while it almost didn't kill him, and in an attempt to calm you down, he hugged you and held you until he passed out from exhaustion. He wouldn't do it for just anyone, but he saw the terror in you, and he needed to keep you from hurting yourself and others, and the last thing you needed was to be treated like a rabid animal in that state.
— take a deep breath Sunshine.
It was almost like calming to hear him call you Sunshine, a nickname he gave when he realized that you liked to spend hours looking at the sunset, even though Soap called you by that name more often, whenever Simon called it, it sounded much better. Ghost wasn't the type to show feelings or be the most outgoing guy in the world, but during your friendship, he started to show more sentimentality to calm you down at times, and now it was time for that.
— You don't have to tell me anything now, I won't make you... But I'll stay here until you calm down, scream if you want, cry yourself to sleep, I'll stay here, and no one will hurt you, you have my word.
— I...I can't...he's...going to hurt me...I can't go back...I can't, I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!
— I already said that nobody will hurt you, you are safe here, nobody will take you. I wouldn't allow that.
— please...let me go...I won't...I won't do anything...
— you want to do something, i know that...tell me what it is, and then i'll think about letting you go.
— I...I...I need...a hug
Hugging wasn't a strong point in your friendship. Sometimes to comfort or calm you, he would touch your shoulder or put his hand on your face to make you look into his eyes. In your words, in your tone of voice, it was already clear how much you needed a hug. Then very slowly, he let go of your wrists, and then you turned to him and hugged him. Reluctantly, he put one arm on your back and the other behind your head, which made you feel safe. Your face was buried in his shoulder, and Simon felt that you were shaking, that you were crying silently.
"Go ahead and cry, little girl
Nobody does it like you do
I know how much it matters to you"
You don't know how long you stayed there, you don't know when you fell asleep, you just remember falling asleep in Ghost's arms. He noticed and carefully took you in his arms and laid you down on the bed, and before moving away to cover you with the blanket, he felt you were still holding his hand. He knew you would fall into despair if you woke up and didn't see him, not least because of what you said about being "taken away". The masked figure then let go of itself lightly and covered you with the blanket, then taking one of the books from your shelf and sitting in a chair there, hoping you would wake up soon.
so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!
can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?
Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang
(sorry if this is long I got excited)
please and thanks
Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley
Warnings: innuendos
“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.
He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.
“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.
“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.
“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.
You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.
Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.
“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.
“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.
“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.
“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.
“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.
“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”
“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.
“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.
“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.
Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: Y/N’s & Simon’s little girl goes to work with her daddy after begging for months, this is based on a true story that happened today my husband came home decorated in stickers
Warnings: none
When your daughter found out Simon was bringing her to work the next day she was overly ecstatic. She immediately grabbed her little pink backpack & packed three of her Barbie dolls, stickers, coloring books, all the essentials. Your daughter had grown incredibly curious in what her father did. He’d always try to bring back some sort of souvenir for her, & it only helped with peaking her curiosity. She’d constant ask different questions when he’d come home from a mission & Simon would create some elaborate story to shield her from his actual profession. All she knew what that he was in the military to some degree. So Simon decided since it was mainly a online safety training day he’d bring her onto the base.
The next morning she was so excited nearly bouncing out of her seat in anticipation. She kept asking so many questions about the activities planned that she wasn’t eating her cereal.
“Sweetheart, you gotta eat up my love.” You stated, reminding her of the colorful fruity breakfast food in front of her. “You need to be well fed before you go with daddy to work.”
“Okay mummy.” She replied starting to eat away. Simon had just come back from a early morning run & walked in the door. “Daddy!” She yelled excitedly & opened her arms for a hug.
“Hey princess!“ He greeted her. Despite how sweaty he was, he couldn’t deny his little girl a hug.
“You stink!” She exclaimed. He ruffled her hair & walked upstairs to take a well needed shower. Once she was done with her breakfast you took her upstairs to get her ready for the day. She had laid out her outfit the night prior. The cutest little pink corduroy dress, with white tights, & mary jane flats were resting on her dresser. You got her changed into her outfit for the day & Simon came in dressed in his uniform. It was a morning ritual before he left for work that he’d help put his little girls hair up. His bear paw of a hand grabbed the hair brush that sat on her dresser & started to brush her sandy blonde locks.
“What bow do you want this morning princess?” He asked pointing to the plethora of bows that sat in a container.
“Hmmmm,” She said thoughtfully her little nose crinkling in thought. “The pink one!” You now leaning against the door frame giggled to yourself. She had all those bows but without fail the pink one was the one she wore the most. He clipped the bow into her small ponytail & let her look at it in the mirror.
“Okay pumpkin, let’s go so daddy is not late for work.” He said & scooped her up. She always looked smaller then she was in Simon’s arms. It always looked like he was carrying a doll around. He grabbed her pink backpack & swung it over his free shoulder. The three of you made it downstairs & you gave the two of them a kiss goodbye.
“Looks like it’s just you & me today.” You said quietly to your now visible baby bump.
Simon buckled the wiggly little girl into her car seat & got into the driver’s seat of his pick up truck.
“Okay darling what do you wanna listen to?” He asked looking back at her, already knowing her answer.
“Taylor Swift!” She exclaimed & like clockwork he put on her absolute favorite song, Shake it Off. He smiled to himself as he watched her wiggle around in her car seat to the song singing to herself. Simon tried to sing along, but she shot that down really fast. “No daddy I only sing.” She said. He rolled his eyes playfully, & shook his head. Knowing damn well she got her sassiness from her mother.
He pulled up to the gate to the base, & showed both of her identification cards. The gate guard scanned both & saluted Simon. Soon they were in the parking lot to the headquarters, & Simon was struggling with getting the car seat unhooked. His damn sausage fingers were getting in the way.
“God dammit.” He said as he tried to unclip one of the straps. Your daughter got wide eyed & gasped.
“Daddy you just said a bad word!” She exclaimed. “Mummy says those aren’t nice words.” A look of disbelief was on Simon’s face at his child’s scolding, knowing well enough she’ll repeat what happened later on. The swear jar at home was already way too filled from his accidental cursing. Price had been standing outside finishing off the last of his cigarette watching his lieutenant struggle with the car seat buckle. After he finished his smoke he decided to go over & help. Being a father to three kids meant he was a professional.
“Oi, Simon!” He called coming down the stairs. “Need some help?”
“Anything would be great, Price.” Simon said clearly frustrated. Price looked at the little girl in the car seat who looked back him & smiled. “I swear they strap them in tight enough they could survive an atomic bomb.” Simon continue. “Eleanor, this is Captain Price. Daddy’s boss, he’s gonna unhook ya.” Simon told his daughter.
“Hello, Eleanor,” Price said. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand & she grabbed onto two fingers, shaking his hand. Somehow someway Price was able to get the car seat unhooked. Eleanor held out her arms & Price picked her up placing her down next to her father. Simon took the pink backpack & his daughters hand. All three of them walked into the building only to be greeted by Soap & Gaz.
“Finally!” Soap exclaimed. “What took you lot so long-“ he cut off mid sentence at the sight of the little girl holding her fathers hand. “Who’s child is that?” He asked.
“This is my daughter, Eleanor.” Simon explained. Eleanor now shyly was hiding in between her fathers legs.
“I had no idea you had a kid LT.” Gaz said. The two men crouched down to greet the little girl. Simon’s hand came down to stroke her hair to tell her it’s okay. “Hello, Eleanor I’m Gaz & this is Soap.” She just stared back at them gripping onto the camouflage fabric of Simon’s pants.
“She’s just shy.” Simon explained & picked up his daughter.
“Well let’s get to it.” Price stated, & they all walked into one of the briefing rooms. “Simon why don’t you drop Eleanor off with Laswell while we conduct our briefing.” Price stated. “She’s just right next door.”
Simon carried his daughter out of the room & knocked on the door of the room next to them. Kate opened the door & smiled.
“Oh isn’t this a surprise!” Kate said.
“Could you just let her sit in here for a few? We’re about to do a briefing.” Simon asked. She nodded & Simon handed his daughter off to her with her pink backpack.
“Daddy where are you going?” Eleanor asked in a upset tone.
“Daddy’s going to be right next door.” He explained to her. “Then when I’m done you can come in.”
“Okay daddy.” She replied. Simon went into the briefing room & Laswell closed the door to her office. She placed the little girl on the ground who held onto her pink backpack.
“Whatcha got in there?” Laswell asked as she crouched down to her level.
“I have Barbie’s.” Eleanor said. “Do you know how to play with Barbie’s?” She asked. Laswell nodded, & Eleanor opened up her backpack to reveal her Barbie’s. The more questions Laswell asked the more comfortable Eleanor was around her. Once the briefing was finished, Simon went next door to check in on his daughter. There she was sitting with Laswell on the floor playing with her three favorite Barbie’s. Soap & Gaz also appeared in the doorway behind him. After a few minutes Eleanor realized her father was in the doorway. “Daddy!” She exclaimed excitedly. He never got tired of seeing her excitement when he walked into a room or came back from work.
“Hi princess, can I steal Laswell for a minute?” He asked. “Soap & Gaz will play if you want.” He said & Laswell got up. “Then after this we can get Macca’s for lunch.” She lit up at the sound of that.
“Okay daddy.” She said in agreement. Soap & Gaz soon joined her on the floor. She looked at them skeptically especially Soap. “Why is your hair that way?” She asked as she picked up one of her Barbie’s from the floor. Gaz had to control himself & try not to laugh.
“It’s a Mohawk, & I like it.” He replied. She really was Simon’s kid.
“Do you know how to play Barbie’s?” She asked them quizzically. They both looked at each other & then her. “It’s okay, I’ll show you.” Eleanor went on to explain the drama between three of the dolls. It was an elaborate betrayal & divorce plot that left the two men speechless. “That’s how you play Barbie’s.” They just stared back at her absolutely confused.
“Oh wow,” Soap said. “That’s uh wow. That took a sharp left turn.”
“I’ll say,” Gaz said. “What else did you bring?” He asked. She went to her backpack & whipped out the sticker sheets.
“Those look fun.” Soap said. Eleanor took a sticker of a unicorn off of the sheet & placed it on his forehead. The cutest giggle he had ever heard erupted from her lips. Soon his whole face & Gaz’s face were covered in stickers. Simon, Price, & Laswell had completed their briefing, & went to go check on the three of them next door. Once they opened the door Kate had to stifle a laugh. Simon looked on in amusement at his daughter who placing different stickers over his teammates faces.
“Eleanor, love what are you doing?” Simon asked.
“Making them pretty.” She replied very matter of factly.
“It looks like Lisa Frank threw up on them.” Laswell said.
“Hey we’re trying to make the new recruit here happy.” Soap replied with his eyes closed as she placed a new sticker on his forehead.
“New recruit?” Price asked.
“Yeah little Eleanor here.” Gaz answered. Simon smiled to himself as he watched his daughter enjoy herself. He knew she’d be asking to come to work with him again, but this time with more stickers.
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: Y/N is a aid worker with UNICEF, while helping treat innocent children from preventable viruses the encampment is taken over by terrorists, the video of her an American being held hostage goes viral & it’s up to Task Force 141 to rescue her & the others
Warnings: mentions of beatings, death, war crimes, murder, it’s kinda heavy
Ever since you saw Audrey Hepburn walking with the sick, & hungry children with UNICEF you knew exactly that’s what you wanted to do. Help the most innocent & vulnerable children on the planet. You had gone to nursing school already & graduated. Once you graduated you immediately had made it imperative to volunteer your skills to help UNICEF. So now here you sat in the hot African heat & sun. It was absolutely sweltering, but the line of mother’s seeking out proper care for the babies, was extremely long. Your colleagues were offering them water, food rations, anything they needed while you helped administer vaccines. There had been a huge polio outbreak in the region due to contaminated water, & your team decided to administer that vaccine first.
A small frail toddler sat on her mother’s lap while you prepared the vaccine. Her wide eyes looked around the blue tent that was overhead. She looked malnourished, & was clinging to her mother. You had been administering her vaccines for the past couple of weeks now, & started to create a friendship with her mother. It was incredibly important to you to build trust with the little ones mothers, & you wanted them to know how much you genuinely cared for them.
Once the vaccines were ready you went to go & administer the first vaccine into the young child’s thigh when screaming was heard in the distance. The deafening sound of machine gun fire was heard in the distance. The woman in front you immediately picked up her child & ran in the opposite direction. A colleague of yours sprinted in your direction alerting you that one of the terrorist groups in the country had captured the nearby city, & were now taking over the camp. You immediately dropped the syringe in your hand & started to sprint.
Two pick up trucks pulled in front of her. Machine guns were bolted down into the their beds & multiple heavily armed terrorists occupied them. They jumped out, shouting in a language you didn’t fill understand. Shaking now in fear you threw your hands up surrendering yourself. Immediately their hands where on your shoulders dragging you to the truck. They zipped tied your hands behind your back & threw you in the back of one.
“Please you don’t understand I’m not a soldier!” You sobbed out. “I’m a aid worker.” Over the past few hours that felt like an eternity they grabbed civilians, & colleagues of yours. Soon the trucks were driving into the nearby city, cheers & gun fire rang out into the air in celebration. The trucks came to a halt & you along with the other hostages were dragged into one of the many buildings in the city. You could see people holding camera phones trying to get into your face, documenting the kidnapping of western aid workers.
The inside of the building was fairly clean, but lacking in any furniture. All that lay there was a area rug & some cushions. They plopped each one of you on the rug. A man who was somewhat well dressed walked in, a rifle was slung across his chest.
“Which one of you is American?” He asked. Everyone says silent then he loaded a bullet into the chamber of his rifle.
“M-me.” You squeaked out not looking up. He chucked to himself & two of the guards immediately brought you to your feet.
“Don’t worry we won’t kill you.” The man said. “Yet.” He chucked. “Americans, especially American women go for a pretty penny on the black market but I think you’d be best suited for ransom.” He explained. The guards dragged you into a room off of to the side & there sat a chair with a video camera facing it. They forced you to sit down & tied you to the chair. A table was to your left, all laid out were different knives, hardware tools, & other tools that could be used to torture a human being. Then it all hit you, you were going to be tortured on camera. The video would probably broadcasted across every major news network, for all to see. The idea of your family & friends having to bear witness to your bloodshed on television started to cause you to wonder if death was a better fate.
A taller man came up to you & bent down to look at your face. His grimy hands pulled your hair back punched you square in the face. A blood curdling scream escaped your lips as you heard the crack of your nose. The metallic smell of blood filled the air.
“Shut up!” One of them yelled. Your head hung weakly in defeat & pain. One of the men started the camera, & the other stood next to you with a large machete in his hand.
“To the people of the west, we declare war on you. The bloodshed that had spilled on our soil will continue, & it’s time for us to take revenge.” He said in near perfect English. The bastard had a damn American accent. “We have captured one of your own, & it is up to you to make sure she stays alive.” You lifted your head & looked into the camera intently. You reminded yourself of the importance to make sure you could be identified for rescuing. “You have 72 hours to respond.” The man said menacingly as he put the machete close to your neck. Your breathing increased by the presence of the large blade. The camera was then stopped & he removed the machete from your neck. You were soon untied & brought back into the room where the other hostages are. A colleague of yours gasped at the sight of your blooded & bruised face. They threw you to the ground, & you started to sob even more. Your vision kept going in & out from the pain.
“All I wanted to do was help people.” You whispered as you gave into the darkness.
Simon along with the rest of Task Force 141 sat in a briefing room awaiting what their next mission was to be. Price had a bit of a hunch as his wife texted him a news article mentioning the aid workers taken hostage. Laswell came in looking absolutely stressed.
“Afternoon.” She mumbled & put her laptop down on the table. The air suddenly felt incredibly tense by her presence which wasn’t abnormal but something felt off. She flipped open her laptop & started to brief them. “As some of you may know a group of terrorists invaded a city that was once held by rebel fighters. A UNICEF camp was based on the outskirts, a bunch of foreign nationals were there administering medicine to the locals. They attacked, & took an American aid worker hostage along with nationals from other countries.” Kate sighed. “There’s a video they released.”
Everyone looked around the room at each other. “It’s dark.” She simply stated. “This poor woman.” She hit play & the video started. As soon as they all saw the young woman blooded with her head down they sat up. The more the video played Simon grew more angry. Then once the terrorist had pulled her head up Kate looked down. Her eyes where blood shot, nose was already broken, & her whole face was covered in blood. The man held a machete to her neck & they all watched her body tense up.
Simon was pumped full of adrenaline & wanted to snap the neck of the man who held the machete. He was furious.
“Holy Fuck.” Gaz said & shook his head.
“Yeah I know.” Kate said. “The United States has reached out to us, they want us to rescue her. Their Special Forces are conducting other operations. The woman in the video her name is Y/N L/N, & it’s believed her colleague Paul Kessler is also in the compound. Their lives are at extreme risk & we need to extract them immediately. So hop to it.”
They went over the rescue plan, & walked out to the airstrip where a C-130 aircraft awaited them. Their gear was put on board by the crew & they boarded the plane. Simon couldn’t help but wonder about the young woman in the video. She looked so defeated & was on deaths doorstep. It angered him. These were his least favorite type of missions, he hated the idea of innocent people who just wanted to help others be subjected to the worst kind of violence. He had seen so many innocent people throughout his childhood, & adulthood fall victim that he was fueled with anger for this mission.
The plane landed safely at a airbase in one of the neighboring countries. They got off & did a full gear lay out to assure everyone had the correct equipment. Simon took apart his rifle & cleaned it a few times before putting it back together. Everyone could tell from his demeanor that he was going to be ruthless. Both Soap & Price exchanged a glance of worry before looking at Simon again. When they knew he was doing a deep clean of his rifle he wasn’t going to hold back once they landed. Two Blackhawk Helicopters landed on the Tarmac at 02000 (8pm) ready for the Task Force to board.
Simon pulled his iconic skull faced mask over his head, transforming from a man into a force to be reckoned with. Ghost had now taken over, & it was time for him to board the helicopter. Ghost & Soap took one helicopter while Price & Gaz went to the other. Night had fallen & it was perfect for them to be stealthy enough to fly under enemy radar. They lifted off of the ground & headed off to their target.
“Gentlemen, we are now over the border.” One of the pilots said over the radio. “Wheels down in ten.” They were flying so incredibly low that they just barley touched the tips of the trees they flew over. Soon they had reach a now pitch black city & the helicopters started to approach the house were their target was.
“Eyes on target.” Price said into his radio, alerting the task force. A fighter on of the roofs started to fire as the approaching helicopters & was quickly taken out by Price. Soon they were hovering over the roof of the building & repelling down. Once his boots hit the roof of the building his combat mode was switched on. Looking through his night vision goggles he was able to eliminate all of the hostiles on the surrounding roofs. Soap located the door that lead down the stairs & immediately kicked it open. He eliminated one of the terrorists behind the doorway & motioned for them to follow him.
With ease they cleared the stairway & upper floor of the house. It certainly helped that the terrorists were completely unorganized & didn’t know how to properly fight. Soap grabbed one of them & dragged him to where they were holding the hostages.
You kept going in & out of consciousness due to the pain. Your captors had beaten you with every possible way they could. It was a direct attempt to break your spirits & make you ultimately give up hope for a rescue. Your eyes were so bloodshot & after a blow of a rifle butt to the head you couldn’t even fully see anymore. One of your colleagues had to explain what was happening around you. After you slipped out of consciousness again you felt someone’s knee trying to awake you. A overwhelming feeling of dread filled your body thinking it was one of your captors.
“Y/N! Y/N!” The voice screamed, it was one your colleagues Paul. “Wake up they’re here to rescue us.” He said attempting to wake you up. You opened your eyes only to see blurred figures. Hearing gun fire up the stairs you tried to sit up more. Stomping came down the stairs & more shots rang out. You felt a bright light shining on your face & then hands on you. Your bound hands were cut free & your body was lifted from the ground into a fireman’s carry.
“Captain I’ve acquired the target,” A deep British accent said. “Ready for extraction.”
“Affirmative.” A muffle voice said over the radio. Mentally you were thanking whatever higher power that sent them here to rescue you. You let our little squeaks & moans of pain as the two of you made it up the stairs. Your head was beyond pounding now.
“I know love, but I promise we’ll get you treatment as soon as possible.” The voice replied to your small noises. The two of you made it to the roof & the helicopter that was hovering turned around to extract the whole Task Force. You could hear Paul thanking whoever he was in front of at the moment for rescuing him.
“How’s she doing? A voice yelled over the sound of the helicopter approaching. “Okay, not great but we gotta get her immediate care.” The wind of the helicopter blades indicated that it was right above. You felt yourself being strapped to a gurney & lifted into the air. Once in the helicopter & moving you could feel them stabilize your head. A IV was started to replenish your body of it’s fluids. One of the men aboard with a thick Scottish accent kept asking you a series of different questions. You could only respond with hand signals. A bulky piece of fabric was placed in your arms. Your hands felt around the folded fabric only to realize it was an American flag. Small sob escaped your lips as you clutched onto the fabric tighter.
Ghost looked down at the poor woman who was strapped to the gurney. Soap had taken an American flag that was aboard the helicopter & placed it in her arms. They both watched as she sobbed clutching the fabric at the realization that she was actually safe.
“You’re safe love,” Soap assured her. Once they had landed back at the airbase the young woman was handed off to the team of advanced medics on the airbase to be stabilized for transport. Ghost watched from a distance as she was being boarded onto a airplane to be sent to Germany for proper care. He removed his mask revealing Simon. Price walked up to him & clapped him on the back.
“Job well done son,” Price said. “Cmon let’s get some sleep & then we’ll be headed back.”
A few weeks later you were somewhat healed. The doctors were able to place your nose back together properly & you regained your eyesight somewhat. The most difficult part was hearing your speech might be slurred due to the blow you took to your head. You were also told you’d have to relearn to write again. During your entire treatment you refused to let go of the American flag one of the rescuers put in your arms. The doctors had to pry your arms open to gain access to your abdomen.
It sat on the bed side table of your hospital room. You were sat up in bed holding a pencil tracing letters. Your doctor recommended you do so in order to regain the ability you once had. It hadn’t been this difficult since kindergarten. You were so focused on your writing that you hadn’t even noticed the handsome soldier at your door. A soft knock on the side of the door frame alerted you of his presence. You looked up, somewhat embarrassed at your appearance in front of the handsome stranger. The bruising under your eyes was yellowing now from the rhinoplasty.
“I’m sorry for startling you.” He said, & your mind immediately flashed back to that night. That voice. “You may not remember me but-“
“N-no I d-do.” You replied through slurred words. He gave you a soft smiled & walked into the room.
“May I sit?” He asked & you nodded. He pulled up a chair & sat down next to your bed. “I’m Simon.” He introduced himself.
“Y/N.” You managed to get out. He looked down at what you were doing. Embarrassed you tried to flip the paper over but he stopped you.
“What are you doing?” He asked & flipped the paper. “Ah I see. Let me help.” He said. His large hand eclipsed yours as he helped you hold the pencil correctly. He helped you trace one of the lowercase letters properly by guiding your hand.
“T-thank you.” You said & looked at him. He brushed your hair out of your face & then looked at the American flag on your bed side table. One of his large hands ran over it & then placed it in your lap. You reached out for his hand & give it a squeeze. His flesh was calloused but made you feel warm & safe. Those same hands that rescued you would be the ones to have & to hold you for your entire life.
can you draw more gay people
what these ones
Patched up nap
Making terrible financial decisions is my passion
I caved
I am not immune to the babygirl
im backkkk
simon "babygirl" riley , my little meow meow
(sorry i cant really post anything other than bad scribbles atm, cuz work is kicking my ass)
OMG I also feel like he buys toys and donates them to the kids:
1. He never got the opportunity to get toys as a kid, and that definitely DESTROYED a big part of his childhood especially looking at other kids having toys and living a good life
2. He regrets how he and Tommy were never able to spend more time together, and I feel like the buying toys for charity for the kids kinda fills the hole of doing something that Tommy would have wanted to do also…
There’s definitely more reasons but…
simon riley allows himself one drink a year, a stiff whiskey on christmas eve. he spends it alone each year, thinking about tommy and his nephews. he buys toys for a local kids charity because he wants to do some good in his storm of bad.
The way I laughed should be a crime bruh
Y/N: “I prefer making love over sex. I crave emotional intimacy.”
Graves: “ I can make love to you,sweetheart.” 😉
Y/N: “What’re ya gonna do, rub my inner thigh for two minutes then ask if I came?”
Graves: 👁👄👁
Ghost:
this is so cute 😭😔
"You remembered." You state to Simon with wide eyes. Just a moment ago he came theough the door to your flat with a present bag and a cake.
The longer you looked at him the more tears that filled your eyes. It was your birthday, and everyone in your life had forgotten. But not Simon. He would mever forget something like this.
You never thought Simon of all people would be the one too remember. But little do you know he has had a countdown until your birthday on his for since you last birthday.
"Of course i did," He starts "I would never forget something so special." He finishes adoration in his eyes.
You practically race up to him and throw your arms around his waist, the tears dont stop as you sob into his chest. He moves both of you to a spot he can set the bags down and wraps both of his arms around you squeezing tight.
"I'm here, I'll always be here."
Husband!Simon Riley that doesn’t wear chapstick unless you kiss him. preferably, you’d be wearing the chapstick - don’t worry, if you’re not he carries a spare in his back pocket, just put some on, lovie
Husband!Simon Riley that lets you paint his nails. he likes a simple clear coat, or a matt black, but he prefers a color that matches your eyes. despite his precision with handling guns and knives, his hands get a little shaky when he paints your nails. he silently psychs himself out because he doesn’t want to mess up
Husband!Simon Riley that stops by your favorite fast food place after a grocery run so you can have a little treat. he has your go-to order in his notes app and under your contact information. plays dumb when you get excited, “S’nothing special, just eat.”
you know what.
I am so fucking tired of rape fics. I am a sexual assault survivor and you sexulise rape. why. why do I work so hard to get better and it all get ruined by some horny asshole just like last time. THESE CHARATERS DONT WANT TO RAPE YOU. rape is horrible, its NOT sexy. its traumatizing. why do you keep talking about it and writing about it. STOP MINIMIZING MY PAIN WITH YOUR DERANGED FANTASIES.
Simon Riley isnt a rapist
Leon Kennedy isnt a rapist
and belive it or not Jonathan Crane ISNT A FUCKING RAPIST
dont tell me not to kink shame
do not tell me to skip it
you cannot tell me that my trauma doesn't matter
STOP WRITING RAPE FICS
i 👏 need 👏 a 👏 sub 👏 ghost aka simon riley 👏 fanfic 👏 please 👏
every day after work, you found yourself sat at your desk attempting to write back a response to the soldier who referred to himself as ‘ghost’. crumpled up stationary surrounded your desk space, along with different types of pens as you obsessed over your handwriting. if one letter of your penmanship looked wrong, the paper would become another ball added to the collection of half written letters that contained slightly different, if not the same, wording in response to the thank you letter from ghost.
the simple questions he asked to get to know you suddenly felt like the hardest questions to answer, as if you were being graded on the facts about yourself. was he going to find your hobbies boring? maybe your hobbies were boring the more you read your response. the easiest question to answer was regarding how long you had been doing the care packages - a few years since one of your friends had a significant other that joined the military. stories often mixed with people who received packages and cards from family members frequently, but the ones where some received little to none are the ones that made you upset. so, you had decided to explain that to ghost and it was probably the easiest response of them all to write out. not single moment did the pen leave the paper for you to collect your thoughts or how to word your answer.
but then, you continued to answer the questions he asked you, and in return you asked him similar or different ones. again, you weren’t positive he would reply this time around, but you figured you’d still return the gesture of asking him questions as well. and when you finished writing it all, reading through it god only knows how many times for errors, you finally slipped it into an envelope. this time, no ‘treats’ were included, instead you had opted to ask him if he had any favorites, that way if he did end up writing you back then you could buy him what he preferred.
and after you mailed out the letter, you pushed the thought of it to the side to try and forget about it. but, you couldn’t deny every time you arrived home and checked the mail you were secretly hoping there was a response. but then a few weeks went by and there really was no response waiting mixed in with your other mail.
then after almost two months, after a shit day at work, you didn’t even think twice as you grabbed the mail and walked into your home. going through the motions of your routine - showering, cooking dinner and anything else you had to take care of, you finally sat at the counter towards the end of the night to sort through the mail. a small card was tucked between a bunch of other trash mail, your eyes immediately recognizing the handwriting. quickly, you opened up the envelope and sure enough, that same notebook paper was tucked into it, this time three pieces of paper unfolded in your hands.
..it’s been quite hectic over where i’m currently at, so sorry for the lack of my responding…
...i’m a bit upset of the lack of treats, it definitely beats what we have to eat sometimes.
the reason you do the packages is quite sweet. is your friends’ partner still alive? you use the past tense when you speak of them. sorry if that is rude to ask.
you read every word of the letter, not once, but twice. and he didn’t just read your response to his, he took notice of the small details. you didn’t even realize you had used the past tense, but he wasn’t wrong in his assumption either when he thought they might have passed. it was like reading a full blown conversation he had to himself in his head; the way before or after some sentences, he would write out interjections. some sentences were followed by parentheses where he made his own little comment as well about what he had just written.
again, i hope you forgive my delayed response. hope it doesn’t stop you from writing back. don’t always have the time, but promise i’ll get back to you. maybe in your next letter you can send me a picture of yourself, i think it would be nice to put a face to the name that signs off on these. i can’t do the same, but i’ll find a way to make up for that. ‘til the next letter, ghost.
and while you didn’t get started writing your response that night, you did make your way to your room with a smile on your face. excitement was already brewing about what you would say in your response and the next anticipated response he would give back, even if he did take a bit to respond.
simon fell in love years ago, engaged to be married to an old colleague until she went MIA, assumed KIA. It took simon a few dozen bottles of bourbon and a few hundred therapy sessions to move on but he did, with you
let down his barriers enough to welcome the idea of marriage again, planting a big rock on your finger and is currently next to you on the sofa, helping you pick handkerchiefs
and when there’s a knock at the door, he doesn’t stop his conversation with you. only when you hear him open the door and drop the bottle of beer he was drinking
your eyes follow his and you’re grateful that you’re not stood right now. standing on the other side, fully-alive and not missing at all, is his first love. still wearing that ring he gave her
DAMNNNN OKAY
just thinking about how big simon riley is.
like him fucking you in missionary; the way his shoulders completely block your field of vision and his large hand planted right by your ear dwarfs your own by the masses. his meaty, veiny arm leading up to his panting chest, usually pressed fully against your own as it gets him so worked up to feel your tummy and tits, hard nipples and soft skin grazing his calloused build. the big man comes with big scars!!
speaking of scars, he gets so fucking weak in the knees and heart when you pay attention to his various marks scattered on him. he never tells you the full stories—rarely even a spec of the truth, most often—but he still gets a little flustered when you kiss them better.
simon can usually hold it together, but sometimes (all the time) he gets sooo hard and blushy when you touch and squeeze his biceps and feel up his abs. call him your strong and impressive man and he’ll have you on your hands and knees in the matter of seconds, shoving his dick in you from behind to cover up how pink his cheeks turned.
he loves coming up behind you in the bathroom while you’re getting ready, putting on your pretty lipgloss or adjusting the bow in your hair while he watches through the mirror like a quiet, curious dog.
seeing how the width of your shoulders only reach his pecs when you’re centered at his front, and christ, the height difference.
placing his large palms on your hips, one up them maneuvering to flatten out on your tummy and pull you further into him. he wraps his arms around your entire frame for the tightest bear hug ever.
call him cliché, but he has such an evil habit of comparing your hand sizes. it turns him on and makes you giggle, each and every time.
the one time you asked him to slip his arm around your waist and head in the crook of your collar for a mirror picture had resulted in your neck being sandwiched between his bicep and forearm, and long lasting marks on your hips from where they hit the counter repeatedly as he fucked you hard in a chokehold.
you just get him so riled up! but it’s okay, because he kissed your temple a lot throughout and afterwards apologized with cuddles for ruining your nice outfit and makeup <3
you’ve all heard of men fucking women in front of mirrors to show them they have nothing to be self conscious about…but what if it was reversed?
Imagine Simon coming home from a mission, tired, and just absolutely beat. He got a new scar from his mission, one that crosses down his back - across his shoulder blades to be specific. So having him come home and avoid every ounce of your love kills you.
this happened for almost four days, his constant avoidance, rejection, swerving from your kisses - you had enough. That’s how you ended up like this, bracing yourself on the mirror as he pounded into you. He kept his head down, pressing small kisses against your back. You tried your best to stand a little, pressing your back against him, holding his head on your shoulder so he was forced to look at himself. With a few more thrusts, he came - and he shrunk back into you. You reassured him that he would always look handsome, and be worthy of all you had to offer.
“Just because you gained another scar doesn’t mean you’re ugly or unworthy of anything…it just lets me love you a little deeper.”
a/n: I’m sorry for the short length and how lazy the writing is, I’m just slowly losing interest in writing for him. I’m not saying that I won’t continue writing for Ghost, but I do need a break from him. I'll continue to write, but just for other people - I’ll come back for him later.
Okay, it should be out sometime this weekend
new fic coming out sometime soon
not this week tho, school is beating my ass
new fic coming out sometime soon
not this week tho, school is beating my ass
ghost telling you you’ve always been his ‘marry’ when he gets randomly pulled into a game of ‘fuck, marry, kill.’
Since I’m gonna be participating in Kinktober, I need some theme ideas for 31 days of writing! I’m gonna set up a while master masterlist for Kinktober that I will be updating throughout the month, and leave for you all to enjoy!
But…I do need ideas! So send in what you want to have added into Kinktober!
I will not do any incest, dub-con, or vile topics.