simon "ghost" riley - drabble

cw: smut/pwp, daddy kink, size & strength kink, masked man, reverse cowgirl, dirty, doggy style, degradation,

"that's a good girl." his voice was like honey that dripped down onto your soul. your focus was phasing in and out, your mouth felt dry and there was a steady thumping in your head. he was seated up against the headboard, his strong hands on your hips as he moved you up and down his cock like you weighed nothing. like you were his own personal fleshlight. he was just so much bigger than you, stronger and scarier. most would flinch at the sight of him, but not you. instead you reached behind yourself for some leverage as he pounded into you. he added, "i love how ya feel on me. how this tight cunt takes me so well." his hot breath in your ear. you could feel his mark brush up against your neck. he still had that mask on, same with his gloves. simon just loved the sounds of your sex that filled your shared bedroom. it felt like home to him, the safest place he can bully that pussy of yours until your eyes rolled back into your head. you were his toy, his savory little fuck toy. "you like when daddy fucks you, don't you." his pace was gaining speed, "you like when i fill ya up nice and good. because you know, you're mine. my girl." his voice was a low growl as he continue to batter your cunt. words were lost in your throat as he fucked the sense outta you.

simon's words melted off his tongue and left you feeling out of your body. they were harsh and dirty, but they made you hotter. it made the slick between your legs grow and the cotton in your head feel heavier. he fucked you like you weighed nothing. he held your arms behind your back and fucked up into you. he used you as leverage to spear his cock deeper into you. the noises you made were small and pathetic, he had fucked the voice out of you earlier when he finished down your throat. your head throbbed and your pussy ached. the need of him, you craved him in ways that were concerning to most. it was a deep primal urge to let him use you like this in the bedroom. to use his strength and size to mold you to his whims. your heart stuttered when he got tired of reverse cowgirl and folded you over onto your hands and knees. with your face buried into the sheets, he had a better angle to abuse your pussy. "ya like that, love. ya like how i just use that sweet fuckin' cunt of yours?" his accent grew thicker as sex clouded his brain. you whined in response and gripped onto the covers under you. your body felt so heated and your brain felt abuzz. you moaned pathetically and let him use you. his voice was sharp in your ear, you could feel the mask against your ear, "my girl, my fuckin' girl lets me fuck her with the mask on." you felt your eyes roll back a little as you felt the first of many orgasms be pulled from your daddy. as you made a weak noise as you came, simon said lowly in your ear once more.

"that's it... daddy's sweet girl."

<3

simon riley x deaf!reader

tw: none, literally just pure fluff

“It’s just one date. I promise.”

You didn’t know how your friend had convinced you to go on a blind double date in the first place. In fact, you weren’t even the first choice, but when your friend came by to ask you to fill in for another girl who had bailed out last minute, you pity-agreed to help her out.

You weren’t sure if you were making the right choice. Dating wasn’t your thing, and you avoided it like it was the scum of the earth. Not to say you had bad experiences, per se, but you also didn’t have the best choice of men. None of them understood your situation to its fullest, but that was okay! You didn’t need their validation, and you were perfectly content with the way things were.

There was no harm in going on a fun date and having a few drinks and good food, you thought. One night, and you’d never have to see your blind date again.

Besides, your friend seemed to really be into her date from the way she’d gush about him after they met online (not your favorite choice, but you’d support her anyway), and you didn’t want to ruin that for her.

That’s what led you to be here, shoulder to shoulder with your friend as she rambled on about how excited she was with speedy hand gestures, how grateful she was that you came, that she’ll make sure your dinner and drinks are paid for. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you were going, but judging from what she forced you to wear, it had to be a bit fancy and lavish.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that was also not your favorite choice.

She guided you inside of the building, which was a preview of what was to come — high ceilings, ravishing decor, and low lighting that made everything much more romantic. You took in the fluorescent scenery as she spoke with the hostess. You didn’t know what they were saying, but as the waitress gestured with a hand for the two of you to follow, you assumed the two men were already there.

Your arm was looped loosely with your friend’s as the two of you walked after the hostess. When you approached a table, you took in the sight of one man that looked familiar — your friend’s date, a man with smooth, tanned skin and a smile that could cure sickness. The other man was new to you, and compared to your friend’s date — Kyle? — he was much more phlegmatic.

Kyle gave a polite nod towards you with a blinding smile, and you have one back, bowing your head in greeting. You sat next to your friend, watching as Kyle pulled out the chair for her, to which your date definitely didn’t do the same.

That was alright. You weren’t planning on making it past the first date anyway.

Your friend began to chatter with Kyle while you and your mystery date sat in silence. Your hands remained in your lap as your eyes scanned the menu that sat on the table.

Focused on appearing as busy as possible, you were unfortunately snapped out of it before it could last long when your friend nudged your shoulder with hers. When you looked up at her, she was smiling, and she lifted her hand to signal the man in front of you.

Blinking at him, you realized he was possibly trying to talk to you, and you shifted awkwardly. He probably thought you were rude.

“Sorry, Simon. I forgot to mention she’s deaf, so she didn’t know you were introducing yourself,” your friend apologized, and you watched as he stared at her before nodding in acknowledgment. “It won’t change anything, yeah?”

You sat in tense silence as you averted your eyes back to the menu. Your date had eyes that could pierce right through you if they wanted to, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to be their next victim, date or not.

A phone screen was slid across the table from where you were studying the menu, and your eyes flickered to see a string of words typed out in the notes app.

“Sorry if that came off as rude. I’m Simon.”

Glancing up at him, you flashed him a smile that was relieved. He gave you an awkward one back, and you thought maybe he didn’t do it much.

You picked up his phone from where it sat in front of you and began typing out your response before slipping it back to him. You watched as he read it, a look of amusement in his eyes as he did so.

“Not rude at all. Sorry she didn’t tell you. You can back out if you’d like, I won’t take offense.”

Kyle and your friend were conversed in conversation with one another while Simon and you had your own back and forth.

“Why would I do that?” his next note read, and you tilted your head at him. He offered you a shrug, and your fingers tapped along his screen in return.

“Most men wouldn’t like being blindsided by not knowing their date is deaf.”

You saw his mouth part open when he read it, and you wondered if he was chuckling to himself. You wished you could hear it.

Was it deep? What if it was one of those contagious laughs that sounded like the literal gates of heaven opening up, and you wouldn’t ever have the chance of hearing it?

You didn’t have time to think about it when he placed the phone back in front of you, and when you glanced down, you couldn’t help but smile bashfully to yourself.

“A pretty girl’s a pretty girl. I’d be an idiot for backing out on the prettiest one I’ve had the gall to see over something like that.”

Fuck.

You weren’t supposed to like your date, much less so quickly. You only came for the food and for the sake of your friend’s happiness, but here you were, cheesing to yourself like a stupid teenager with a new crush.

But as the date continued, with the both of you eating alongside Kyle and your friend, shamelessly passing his phone back and forth and filling his notes app with evidence of your growing infatuation, you knew it wasn’t only for the food anymore.

He was sweet. Sure, it was all on paper (well, screen), and you told yourself to always be cautious with men.

But when he asked you out on a second date, then a third, you allowed your concrete walls to crumble.

And when he showed you the new signs he’d been working on so he could communicate with you on the fourth date, spelling out your name with cautious, slow fingers, eyes searching for your approval? You could’ve already married him then and there.

to hold everyone over until I finish traitor part four…

part one / part two / part three

I think kyle and johnny would 100% be the quickest to admit their fuck up, and I think they’d be the last to believe the ‘betrayal.’

the whole squad is fiercely loyal, but those two? those two didn’t believe it until price shoved the evidence in their faces; only then was it too damning to deny.

and god, they feel sick at the thought of what had happened to you. what they did to you. their teammate, their confidant, their friend.

sure, simon had taken point on the ‘interrogation,’ but johnny and kyle had helped. johnny had personally cut into you. kyle was no saint, either.

so when price breaks the news that you’re not the rat, johnny is sprinting to the room you’re being held in. he runs so hard across base that he thinks he may pass out when he finally bursts into the room, hands on his knees as he struggles to breathe.

and when he hears your laugh, he can’t help but think of how wrong it sounds. it’s hollow, untrue. eerie. unnerving. it makes him sick to his stomach.

he helped simon untie your limp body from the chair, and then he followed close behind as simon carried you to the infirmary. kyle was already waiting, eyes wide and lips bitten from nerves.

they don’t leave your side until price makes them. even then, the two are trading off standing outside the infirmary, eyes searching for you every time the door opens and closes. the doctor just shakes her head as she passes them.

they know it’s a long shot, but they have to try.

you’re one of them.

Give me Simon who, because of his family’s history of addiction, and his fear of losing control, he hardly ever drinks.

Give me a Ghost that, despite his size, is a bit of a lightweight.

Give me a Ghost who can't have a couple of "casual" beers cause he still gets slightly buzzed

Give me a Ghost that never went drinking with teammates (before 141) cause he was afraid of what they think. A big man like him getting drunk after only a few drinks.

Give me a Simon Riley who feels so safe with the 141, and with Johnny, that he agrees to go to the pub and have some drinks.

Give me a Ghost that's a goofy drunk. Doing little things to mess with the others. Snort laughing at his own dumb jokes, laughing so hard he nearly chokes.

Give me a clingy drunk Ghost. Absolutely demands to know where the other is going if someone gets up from the table. Is leaning onto Soap so much he's practically crushing him. Has to hold someone's hand when Soap goes to the bar to get more drinks. Complains the whole time Johnny is gone.

Give me a Ghost who is stumbling between Gaz and Soap, knocking into them and holding their hands as they walk. Give me Soap and Gaz laughing and Ghost laughing with them, not realizing they're laughing at him.

Give me Ghost who is finally healing his inner young adult, doing fun stuff while he can, drinking and being merry. We all know those years were stolen from him.

thinking of husband!simon who can't get enough of making you cum. nsfw under the cut. | husband!simon, overstimulation (kinda), fingering

“surely you can give me another, lovie” your husband taunts you, eyes peering at your reflection in the mirror. he’s got your legs spread for him, trapped under his own legs as his fingers—middle and ring—find themselves curled deep within your cunt. he’s smirking at you teasingly while your head’s rested against his shoulder. normally he hates when your eyes break contact with his, but today he allows your brief reprieve from his gaze because he’s feeling generous. truthfully speaking, he knows he’ll be asking for ‘just one more’ at least two more times before you’re boneless before him. your lover curls his fingers along the spongy cushion buried within your walls, prodding the soft material with a coy grin splayed across his features. his eyes are sharp as he watches your hips wriggle against the assault in a weak attempt to free yourself. he’s feeling generous, so he lets that silly little action go unpunished. he figures he’ll tax you for each offense; give him one more for his troubles, sweet girl. you whine at the intoxicating thrusts of his digits against you, body overheating as the coil within your abdomen winds tight. the sounds of your squelching cunt makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, only worsened with the teasing lilt of your husband’s filthy words in your ear. “doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. ‘s almost too much isn’t it, baby?” he sounds like pure sin, panting as though the sheer feel of your cunt squeezing his fingers would do him in. you both know it would; your lover could cum with the sheer feel of your cunt spasming around his tongue, let alone his fingers. he’s hard against your ass, and each wiggle and writhe of your sweet hips making him grunt deeply against your skin. the tightening in your cunt alongside the soft moans of his name let your lover know you’re so close to the edge, so close that you can practically already taste it. he knows, and he makes sure you reach that peak quicker by circling your hard, throbbing clit with his thumb. “oh, sweet girl,” your husband coos at you as your orgasms crests, leaving you trembling in his grasp. Simon’s a bit cruel with the way he thrusts his fingers harder against that sweet spot while spewing filthily in your ear. it’s too much, always too much when he’s this sexy and all yours before him. as you ride out your orgasm, he coaxes you into rocking your hips against his thick fingers. “ride my hand baby, watch yourself ride my fuckin’ hand,” he moans in your ear, free hand gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. the sight is enough to have your cunt squeezing his fingers so tight he could barely move, huffs and whines slipping from your pretty lips while he continues his assault on your overstimulated cunt. “please, Si” you whimper with warmed cheeks, eyes pleadingly looking into his own. he lets out a gruff groan, relishing in the tears that speckle your lash line. “just one more,”he lies to you, and you whimper softly knowing it’d be far more than one before you were done.

a/n: rbs + likes greatly appreciated. also, taking requests. also also, if you'd like the insanely long (and kinda fanon/self-indulgent) oneshot i wrote for halloween!simon, lmk

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

everyone always talks about ‘medic reader’ this and ‘teammate reader’ that but what abt weapons engineer/mechanic reader ?

just a silly little fella who helps out the 141 with their weapons when they go out of whack, who works very closely with the team to coordinate certain weapons for specific missions .

they’d probably have a really close bond with soap , both having fun with testing demolitions together . who’s able to add in ideas and carry conversations with you when you ramble on about weapons . johnny pulls you close to him when they get startled from the loud noise of an explosion , laughing a little at how they excuse their sudden vulnerability with ‘not expecting it to be that loud’.

price who seeks them out when he’s having issues with his cm901, having to endure your age-long lectures about not accidentally slamming the barrel to hard. he subconsciously makes sure the brush his hand over yours when he finally retrieves his now-fixed weapon.

yeah nyways weapon mech! reader has my heart

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Just getting back into writing, so warning: potentially ooc Ghost.

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- cbf! Simon, who reaches out to an old acquaintance to send his first paycheck to you. He has the barracks and mess hall and knows you have no such comforts.

- cbf! Simon, who finds you left town as soon as you turned 18 from said acquaintance.

-cbf! Simon, who can't seem to track you down no matter how hard he tries. It's just like you disappeared. He can't even find any semblance of an internet presence.

-cbf! Simon, who lets it haunt him. The memories of your friendship and the absence of knowledge regarding your current life pop into his head at the worst times.

- cbf! Simon, who believes he's cursed. That he'll lose everyone he loves.

-cbf! Simon, who eventually accepts that he'll never have a bond like the two of you shared. Sure, he has his teammates. But they don't care for each other the same way you two did.

-cbf! Simon, who eventually learns to live with your absence. He even befriends his other teammates and (eventually) the tf141.

-cbf! Simon, who sees a girl eerily similar to what he imagined you'd look like, all grown up while out celebrating a successful mission with the task force.

-cbf! Simon, with a concerned Johnny, asking if he's okay as he stares at the girl with glazed over eyes.

-cbf! Simon, who hears your laugh, coming from the girls mouth. He immediately stands up to push Johnny away and head towards the bar.

-cbf! Simon, who approaches you with Johnny hot on his heels.

-cbf! Simon, who sees the confused look in your eyes as he approaches you and feels an ache in his chest.

-cbf! Simon, who has to make sure it's you. He calls out your name, and there's recognition on your face. Towards the name, not him.

-cbf! Simon, who's crushed when you ask, "Do I know you?" As if seeing the hurt in his eyes, you add, "Sorry. Can't really recognize you with the mask on mate."

-cbf! Simon, who doesn't think twice before ripping his balaclava. He thinks he hears a gasp come from Johnny. But all that matters is the look in your eyes.

-cbf! Simon, who almost collapses as he hears you mumble, "Simon?"

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If this does well, I'd like to make it into a short fic:)

Thoughts would be appreciated.

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Author's note: for my sweet, sweet, @dmitriene , because you listened to me and went to bed instead of staying up like a maniac <3

The thing about Simon is, that he's always observing you. Whether you're stretching out on the couch in the commons because you've been sitting there for hours translating Russian military documents or the way you poke your tongue out in concentration as you hone your sights on any enemy through your sniper scope. Or even the smaller details like, when he's reading written reports and he doesn't even need to see your name signed at the bottom to know that it's your handwriting.

So it shouldn't come as a surprise when he's stripping off his black compression tee when you both get home from a long recon mission and he's pulling you to his side, pressing his bicep to your shoulder and your eyes are reaming. The dainty flower tattoo that you have etched below your clavicle is seemingly connected to his bicep that is a continuation of the stem with delicate little blossoms. It's still fresh, a raw red like he just got it a few days ago and you're literally in awe. The gesture was so small and yet so grandiose.

"So, I can hav' a piece o' ya anywhere I go." He murmurs, tracing the patterns of the leaves and stems of your tattoo.

Your eyes are welling up and he quickly thumbs them away, tilting your chin upward to place a chaste kiss to your lips and then to your forehead. "Don' get all emotional on me, dovie."

"Can't help it." You croak out, grinning from ear-to-ear as you touch the fresh black ink. He doesn't even wince a bit at your touch.

A piece of you.

Safe to say Simon is indeed a romantic.

Simon was about to make another cut on the man's already maimed face when the phone rang up.

" would you look at that ? " He smiled, his grin cocky as he flashed your caller Id, saved lovingly as Babe, a red heart too. The man in question had eyes puffed and bruised beyond vision and Ghost only relished in the torture.

" Now keep your pathetic excuse of a mouth shut while I talk to my sweet love." His words were dagger sharp, glaring as he wiped his hands, bloodied and bruised.

" Baby ! " You chirped on the phone, Ghost smiled, heart melting at your voice.

" Haven't you slept yet darling, come on, it's past your bedtime." He teased you, you whined, scoffing at bedtime.

" I can't sleep without you." You whispered softly in the phone, Simon cocked his head as the man, tied and on the edge to death whimpered, his expressions hardened and he brought a finger to his mouth, Simon shaked his head at the man, making a throat slashing sign, the man clamped his mouth shut, a sob dying in his beaten throat.

" I am coming home to my sweetheart, with icecream if you be a good girl." He added with soft chuckle, Simon bit his lips when he heard you giggle on the other side.

" Be quick, I am waiting." You purred, he was sure you pouted and he so, so wanted to kiss your lips, softly and delicately, like you were made to be cared for.

Simon reluctantly ended the call, kissing the screen as if it were your face, finally turning with devilish look in his eyes.

" Would you like mint chocolate or strawberry ? " He asked, flexing a gun in his slender hands, the man was shaking his head profusely, sobbing almost, trying to free himself.

" Didn't you hear bastard ? " Simon snarled, the man winced, " she can't sleep without me so you better be quick."

" Mi...mi...min..." He stumbled against his words, wincing at every second.

" Too bad." Simon said nonchalantly, pulling the trigger, " My sugar likes strawberry more."

Part 2

thinking about johnny being completely smitten with an extremely reserved reader <3

johnny was head over heels from the very beginning. he couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but maybe it was when you first joined the force. at the initial greeting, he’d struck you with one of his bright smiles, only for a blank canvas to stare in return.

you hadn’t said a word, not a peep, and while others would be turned off by such reclusiveness, he was in awe.

an enigma, you were, and johnny was someone who loved a good puzzle.

you were cold and distant, but not in the way that was cruel and unnerving. you didn’t throw out snarky comments, you didn’t show a single bit of rudeness when somebody’s ticked you off. you weren’t hard headed, nor did you pitch a fight. you were a calm sea with peaceful waves lapping at the shore. a light rain on a dry day, one where in ancient times would’ve been a blessing from the gods. as cold as snow, but the kind that layered the ground in a fresh sheet of white right after a blizzard, painting the earth with powdered beauty.

if anything, you weren’t cold at all. you were just so incredibly awkward that johnny couldn’t help but be smitten by it.

you were that type of awkward where social cues were nearly impossible for you to comprehend. jokes didn’t land quite right whenever somebody made them, and you’d give a blank look to whomever fell victim, added on with a dumb “what?” because you didn’t understand it.

johnny’s been an unfortunate victim on many occasions. he’s always the type to nudge you on the shoulder with a crooked grin as he spilled out whatever joke ghost had told him over comms, only to be met with your complete and utter confusion.

that never stopped him, though. if anything, it made him much more determined to search up more jokes on the screen of a burner phone, reading through every single one and noting them in the back of his mind.

you were also as stone-faced as could be. some theorized you were a robot, others thought you were a demon in disguse. an experiment, placed into 141 as a trial run.

really, expressing yourself just wasn’t your thing.

you felt emotions, sure. plenty of them. you could find the humor in the occasional bar night with the force, amused at the linger of carefree conversation that carried between the men. you just didn’t show it.

it wasn’t something you realized until johnny had made the point of asking you if you ever smiled. thinking back on it, you recalled never directly doing so. you’d do it in your head, but when it came down to it, no, no you didn’t.

johnny was determined when keeping a goal in mind, and found himself ruthlessly running towards that goal of seeing you smile. he was enamored in the thought of seeing the slant of your lips when they curved upwards, in seeing your eyes crinkle and glimmer with delight, and he’d go through every single joke website in order to make it happen.

it took him an approximate year of you being in the force to get it to work.

it was lame, really. hardly one of his best jokes, he’d drunkenly slurred out, “what rank are all cats in the army? corpurrral,” with a tongue roll effect to go with it.

you had burst into laughter, filling the bar air with ringing church bells that he swore made the drunken state of his mind believe he was truly on his way to heaven. the gates had opened, inviting him in. he was levitating, slowly floating his way to the clouds.

your smile was like a breath of air — refreshing. it filled his lungs with such purity that all the cigarettes he’d smoked over the years of being in the force seemingly melted the thick layer of tar away, leaving him clean and refurbished.

it was like a drug, and johnny found himself seeking more out to get another taste, even if it took him another year to do so.

this is lowkey self insert bc this is my personality offline and i think other people who are so painfully awkward with socializing are cute and deserve love. wrote this with no sleep and a dream, silly ramble before i go to bed

i also just really love johnny, goodnight

simon's the loudest snorer in the whole country, reason being his crooked nose from being broken multiple times. the 141 hate being out on the field with him, they're sure it'll attract the enemy at some point but you don't seem to mind when he's home. it's like your own personal lullaby in some weird fucked up way. as long as he sounds like he's sawing trees, he's relaxed. asleep. not trapped in nightmares. it relaxes you, knowing your loved one is comfortable and in return eases you in a slumber while your fingertips search the pulse point on his wrist.

🐧smut | minors dni 🐧 (gn - no specified genitals)

- thinking about husband!captain john price and how his hands are constantly on your body when he gets back from deployment

- it’s late at night when he finally enters his house after almost three months of being away from home. being away from you.

- he throws his bag to the side, too tired to to properly deal with putting away and washing all his clothing and cleaning his equipment. that’s a problem for tomorrow

- his body aches and all he wants to do is lie down and get some well deserved rest

- price creeps upstairs, silently making his way to your shared bedroom. he exhales shakily when he sees you - bundled up in your large pile of pillows and blankets - sleeping soundly, chest rising and falling with each steady breath. he wasn’t expected back until next week

- he slides himself in to bed next to you, pulling your body to his chest and kissing your neck affectionately

- “m’home sweetheart”

- he sounds tired, voice low with exhaustion - dishevelled and smelling of gunpowder and sweat

- despite john’s tiredness, he takes his time to trail his hands over your body, your sleepy and bleary eyes smiling up at him warmly

- mapping your arms, face, hips, legs with featherlight touches. anything that may have hazed his memories of what you looked like during those gruelling months away, remembering any forgotten freckle, dimple or birthmark

- you cry and whine under him, a firm hand forcing your face towards his, eyes always locked on price’s bright blue ones as he thrusts slowly in to you

- “missed you so much” “look at you, so perfect - just as beautiful as i remember”

- it’s what john always looks forward to when he gets back. the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly, crying out his name as large tears cling to your lashes, hands gripping desperately on to him as he slowly and passionately makes love to you

- growls and rough hands instead replaced with low murmurs and soft, lingering touches - so completely enamoured by the way you moan and clench around him

- it’s moment like this that captain john price truly thinks he’s in heaven

- ‘cum f’me sweetheart, wanna see you cum”

- he’s so needy and desperate, aching to see you unravel beneath him and show you just how much he had missed you

- you can’t even be mad that you were disturbed from your slumber, not when your husband worships your body like a man starved of redemption

- in this moment, john price forget’s his sins on the battlefield, forgets the brutal realities of the constant war he is faced with. his deity at his mercy, so pliant and forgiving as you cum, trembling and and sobbing as he kisses away your salty tears

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Civilian!Reader Drabble

Contrary to popular belief, Simon is more concerned about his gloves rather than his mask around you. He doesn't mind taking the mask off with you, wanting you to see Simon and not the man he is on the battlefield, Ghost.

God was it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly, compared to the first time he let you pepper his face with kisses. Those calloused and scarred hands of his, stained with the blood of others being handled like it was the most fragile thing in the world by an angel like you, fuck you made his senses go into overdrive.

Sometimes you make him feel like he's dreaming, always failing to register the fact that someone was worth staying for and coming home to.

Taglist: @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole

A/n: Little sneak peek of some lines written in the upcoming fanfic from an upcoming Little Ghost story, I post weekly and I noticed I haven't posted anything and it's been a week since my last work so for now enjoy this little drabble because I haven't had progress in anything 😭

A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻

Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).

"Simon, just give it some time."

The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.

"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."

.

The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.

But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."

Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.

But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.

"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."

His heart warms at that.

.

It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.

Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.

With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.

It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.

You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:

"I told you so; enjoy it."

With a smile.

no thoughts just simon riley calling you love/lovie

like just imagine him coming home from a long shift, wrapping his arms around you from behind and whispering, “missed you, lovie”, all tiredly in your ear UGH

or when you’re finished getting ready and he leans in and says something like “my beautiful love” LIKE??!!??!?!

and when you finally ask him why he chose to call you that, he’ll unexpectedly hit you with something poetic like “because love is all you make me feel” and then just walk away like he didn’t just recite a sonnet??? and you’re just dumbfounded and staring into space like??!!? didn’t know that y’all read shakespeare on base??