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#lieutenant ghost
cheesit-notes · 8 months
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"s'fucking small"
lieutenant ghost who has a major size kink.
tags: MDNI!, size kink obvi, manhandling teehee, fem reader, fingering, you're put in a mating press, lowkey praise?
a/n: sorry for the late post, i went to hoyofest '23 and then tumblr went down for a bit but teehee take ghost and size kink (i want him to manhandle me)
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ghost likes to hold things after you hold them just to see how big his hands look on it compared to yours. does the thing where he makes you hold his phone and later compares it to his cock. (when hard, he is most definitely over 7 inches and at least 5 inches in girth, you can't tell me he can act like this if his cock was any less)
loves manhandling you 'cause god, look at you! so small next to him. he absolutely adores your hand in his, just shows him how big he is compared to you.
when he has you pinned to the bed, legs spread out showing off your pretty little cunt to him, just him. god, and you're so wet, letting him slip in a finger in so easily. one hand holding yours down, your knees pressing against your chest as he pushes himself onto you. revels in the fact he can just engulf your entire body with his larger one.
slips a few fingers in and out, seeing you squirm around trying to rub on him trying to get any form of friction. teases you by rubbing your clit, just a little. then when he's had enough, he'll stand up and let you watch as he slowly takes off his belt and let his cock spring free.
an arm to support him, your knees now next to your head because of the position, and his cock lined up with your cunt. he'll ram it in with no time for you to adjust (he's so mean). gets him all riled up seeing a bulge in your stomach. he'll grunt out your name and little comments about how you're "s'fucking small" and how you're taking him in sooo good. he'll put you in a mating press. eventually, he's just panting and moaning your name as you squeeze around him with a death grip on your hips and thighs.
god you look so cute as he fucks your brains out.
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tb-png · 1 year
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cat army!!! - 👻🐱
Ghost is the ultimate cat whisperer, he does nothing and cats flock to him like hes their messiah. They’re his little army!!! They follow him around the base and ready to defend their dad from anyone!!! friends or foes!!!
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ghostslittlegf · 1 year
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something about these pictures of ghost that makes a tear run down my leg
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bonkchai · 1 year
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“Cheers, ya slag.”
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creme183 · 8 months
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“Close your eyes, Soap…” 👥
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confused-wanderer · 6 months
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Ghost knows a secret.
Soap cannot handle terms of endearment. He guesses the other man must not be as used to it growing up, but he’s noticed that when Price absentmindedly calls him “pet” , the split second where Johnny’s breath catches, eyes widening ever so slightly as his brain short circuits is an adorable sight. It’s only a second of course, and he just stares off into the distance later when no one’s watching, processing the past few seconds after he talks to Price.
Or when Gaz asked if anybody had a sticky note and Soap without hesitation pulled one out of his bag. Gaz just responds with a quick “thanks darling” before taking the note and scribbling furiously on it. He gets to see the look again, the subtle freeze he does, the rapid blinks and wide eyes, along with the smile he’s fighting off slowly forming which the latter doesn’t notice. There’s not a lot of things that catch Johnny MacTavish off-guard, so seeing something so casual just throw him off with that look on his face is something Ghost considers priceless.
So he tries it himself. After a mission, when everyone’s at a bar and the volumes so loud you can barely hear what the others saying, he looks at Johnny whose carrying their drinks, and takes the drink the other man extends with a “Thanks, love.”
The glorious red flush is reward enough, Soap caught so speechless he actually stammers, stammers for a response while his hands fumble, eyes refusing to meet his. And he notices afterwards how Johnny keeps mouthing that word to himself, over and over again, bit of the earlier blush creeping back over his neck. He swears Johnny lets out a sound, burying his head in his hands while his hands grip the Mohawk.
He thinks he quite likes this little secret Soap keeps.
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ohnonononononono567 · 1 month
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Games - Simon "Ghost" Riley x m!reader (fluff)
(erm boykisser alert!)
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The gentle click-clacking of your fingers on the keyboard soothed Simon to no end. A small studio apartment, the smell of the dollar tree air freshener to hide the scent of a behemoth of a dog who runs around like he pays rent.
Simon wasn't in this house much. He was out working. He wanted something bigger. Never a fan of the small spaces. 
This place was close to your job, was always your reasoning. Shite reasoning if you asked him, but he knew you weren't one to want to be provided for straight off the bat.
So what else could he do? You're a grown man, you know what you want.
He laid on the bed, the soft sounds of classical playing on the radio next to the bed. The keyboard clacking adding on like ASMR.
Grunting, he got up, looming over behind you, and putting his hands on your biceps, squeezing,
"Get up. I want to head out."
You looked up at him, confused. You were playing a multiplayer after all, you couldn't just leave. :/
He sensed this, sensed what you wanted. But frankly, he doesn't care. 
"I don' like my men sittin' on their ass all day, yeah? Can't stay cooped up in this apartment forever."
You tried to protest, but it earned you a light slap on the back of your head,
"Yer yapping. Finish up your game, and I'll get us something to eat too. 'ell a lil more meat on your bones would d'ya good, yeah?"
Said the soldier, leaving the room to grab his car keys, a low rumble escaping his throat from his own joke (if you could call it one.)
Sitting with him at a park, he realizes it wasn't a keyboard, it was you who soothed him. Your presence.
He likes to believe his heart was too cold to ever be repaired. And he still believes that. 
But it doesn't mean you haven't reminded him that he still has a soul. A human one at least. 
A game has the same thing every time. A puzzle that needs to be solved, whether it be with skill or strategy, and a reward. But you can never change the game. You will never fix it to fit you, or alter it. The reward wouldn't feel deserving anymore.
And that's why he had the gall to say he loves you. You never tried to change him. You only tried to figure him out. And when you failed, you never quit. Just looked at him, as if there would be an answer. You saw him as a reward for what the world threw at you. 
He didn't know how to feel when he saw that look in your eyes. Looking at him as if he could ever appreciate you like you appreciate him. 
But this moment in the car after night had befallen the park, as you whined over not being able to play your silly little game and "losing a win streak.", just to be hushed by a hand on your knee and an adoring soldier driving you to your favorite little burger joint, Simon could care less. He's home.
(Daily reminder I am not a writer and don't actively write fanfiction pwease pwease pwease be nice >_<)
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neoarchipelago · 1 year
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And they were Roomates (part 3)
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A/N: Wahoou... I didn't expect this to get so much appreciation. I remind everyone that i accept tips even thought my content stays entirely free for everyone as i don't really do this for money but for my horny demon persona. This is probably getting more parts at this point
accepting some headcanons, situation ideas for these two as i'm slowly running out, it might take me longer to write if i can't find stuff.
TW: violence, blood, crusing, etc.
Love ya'll enjoy.
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You frowned, trying to make your laptops fit in your bag. You were heavily frustrated today. 
It didn't exactly differ from your mood for the past three weeks. THREE WEEKS. He was gone for three weeks and you had 0 news. You stopped fighting with the zipper of your bag to sigh. 
Of course, as if the situation wasn't frustrating enough, you had spent the last week on a mission with a team who's sergeant hated your guts. Sergeant Keller. You were just hoping to end this as soon as possible. Avoiding the sergeant was now your top priority. You had managed to get on his last nerve by defying him at the meeting and proposing a plan that was better than his. The furious look he had sent your way promised havok if he found you alone. Which you totally were right now.
The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Spinning around you cursed. 
"Sergeant…" 
You didn't have time to finish, thanks to the punch to your sternum making you drop to your knees, breath caught in your lungs. 
Fuck…
"You are a little bitch." 
The remark passed through you like a yawn. What bothered you the most was the blows you might receive. He wouldn't kill you, or actually hurt you badly because you were still a valuable asset to the government and the military. But he'd still make it painful. 
"You're… just… mad… I'm better than you…" you hissed through breaths.
This time the kick to your ribs made you whimper. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he lowered himself next to you. 
"Stop fucking acting like you're a hero. You're a fucking terrorist. You should be dead, a bullet through the brain. Know your damn place." 
He hissed through gritted teeth. 
"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" you teased. 
The two other kicks, one to your stomach the other landing on your wrist were expected. 
You couldn't let yourself be spoken like that… it hurt but fuck you weren't going to let him talk down to you. 
You were hunched over on the floor, hand over your ribs, and right wrist badly hurting.  
The sergeant threw you one last glance before heading out. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 
You took several minutes trying to calm down the pain before standing up, grabbing your things and darting out. The cold hair made you huff out little clouds. The 21st of December… you had spent many Christmases alone… but you didn't feel as lonely as you did right now. 
You bit your lip. Keeping the tears at bay… but had long lost this fight. 
---
The way home was spent crying. You were thankful no one was out at this Wonderful late hour. You had managed to reach your apartment door, tears blurring your vision, and your aching side and wrist throbbing. 
Your hand was shaking as you put the key in the lock. You pushed the door open slamming it behind you. You locked it, heading for the living room. You let your things drop on the couch. You spun around to the counter, flinching heavily as you sat down on one of the stools. You tried to breathe through the pain, throat burning as you tried to keep yourself from crying even more.
Suddenly your ears picked up a sound from behind. Jumping down and turning around you froze. 
The silence was deafening. Rage and pain filled your brain. How dare he? Just… what?! 
"Sparrow-"
"What the fuck?!" You half screamed, tears now freely falling. 
"Sparrow." His tone now much more firm. "Are you alright?" 
You chuckled, throwing the most cynical smile you could find in you. 
"I'm amazing." You hissed. 
"Stop. What's wrong? What happ-" 
"None of your business." You spat. 
You were furious. You were absolutely broken and in pain. He walked up to you, leaving a few steps in between. 
God… you had missed his eyes… you mentally cursed yourself at the thought. 
"I know you're angry. But tell me." 
"Angry? You think I'm angry? I'm furious! You left ! Without a word! I'm in pain!" 
That was true. Physical and mentally. You were trying to keep your voice down. But his words kept repeating in your mind. 'we're not friends'. 
You took a deep breath, both staying silent for a long minute. 
"Sparrow… tell me." 
You closed your eyes for a second. 
"Why?" You asked. 
You looked at him, eye to eye for once. You were genuinely asking him. 
"Don't tell me you care… you made it clear. We're not friends." 
"Sparrow.." 
"No. No. Not this time." 
You felt the heavy crush of your exhausted mind and body. You wanted to escape. You needed to. You walked around him. He grabbed your bruised wrist making you whimper in pain. 
The silence after was tense. His gaze had heavily darkened. He was… furious. 
"Who?" Was all he asked. His tone was the coldest you ever heard him. 
You walked to the cupboard, your initial destination, grabbing something inside. You ignored his question entirely. You placed the black mug on top of the counter. He eyed it. A white skull was drawn on it, with the letters lieutenant Riley. You had it made for him as a Christmas present. 
"I figured, you hate Christmas. Though I read no stupid file, it was kind of obvious." You started. Eyes not leaving the object. "I still bought you a Christmas gift. And I know it's not Christmas yet, but. I don't think we'll spend it together." 
You looked up at him. "Now you can hate me as much as you want…" you whispered. 
You didn't wait for any answer at all. You simply headed to your room, locking the door behind you. You got into bed, wincing at the bruises now forming all over your skin. You cried. Letting the tears and tiredness take you to sleep. 
___ 
The morning was rough. You had called Laswell, informing her that you were unable to get to base that morning. She gave you immediate permission to work from home. You sighed. Getting up, you threw one of your signature baggy shirts that reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes were puffy. You could see it in your bedroom mirror. The bruise on your wrist was bad but the one on your ribs was nasty. 
You made sure that your long sleeves hid the bruise. 
Your ears picking up sounds very unusual to your apartment made you frown. Multiple voices could be heard from the living room. 
You opened the door, curious. You could hear ghost's raspy voice. You also managed to hear captain price's. You walked to the living freezing at the entrance. Many eyes were now stuck on you. 
"Hum…" you tried. 
Ghost was the first to move, straightening himself as he scanned your body, wrist, down to your naked thighs. 
You blushed. You were a bit too underdressed suddenly. He was back after all. And he … had … guests? 
"Ah ! Miss sparrow!" Price smiled happily. 
His smile was so contagious you couldn't keep yourself from smiling back. 
"Good morning captain price" you answered with a smile.  
He walked to you, surprising you with a hug. A very suspicious hug as he barely squeezed you. It was more… testing the waters. As if, checking for any injuries. You still hugged him back. The rest of the men in the living room were still staring at you. They all had a giddy smile on their faces. 
"Here. Let me present to you the rest of the squad." He said, positioning himself behind you, hands on your shoulders. 
"This is sergeant John soap McTavish." He explained, pointing to the man with a mohawk. 
"Hi!" He greeted, the taint of a Scottish accent on his voice. 
"This is Kyle gaz Garrick."
The man with a cap stood and threw a wink at you. He sat down back down rather quickly for some reason. 
"And this is Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Not really part of the squad but he's here on permission for a month." 
The man stood walking to you, taking your hand delicately in his, dropping a kiss before smiling. 
"A pleasure." His voice tainted with an accent as well. 
You blushed. Sending a smile to everyone. 
"And gentlemen this is… sparrow." He said. 
He didn't have much more information to add so you did. 
"I'm a hacker. I work for the military but I was actually your enemy a few years ago… my code name is sparrow." 
The man with a mohawk, now Soap to you jumped at the information. Fear reached you, thinking that once more… this would be like sergeant Keller. 
"You're a hacker?! Fuck that's so cool!" 
You smiled, relieved. 
"We were going to have breakfast. Would you like to join us?" Price invited. 
"LT got muffins!" Soap added. 
You glanced at the man in a balaclava, eyes widening as you saw him stand against the counter, a black mug in hand. He… was using your gift. The realisation making something burn in you.
"Hum… sure." You answered, smiling at the men. 
Everyone answered at the same time a variation of happy words. Quickly interrupted by a very familiar raspy voice.
"She's going to change first."
Everyone turned to ghost.
"I..am?" You suddenly questioned his behavior. 
He walked up to you, price stepping back from you. 
"Sure, we'll wait. We'll prepare everything." Price said, with what seemed to be a signature smile on his lips. Ghost softly wrapped his fingers around your good wrist and positioned his palm at the small of your back, beckoning you to walk back to your bedroom with him. 
Once inside he closed the door behind him. You were still mad at him, even though it seemed to fade by the minute. You decided that pushing his buttons would make your point. 
"Why do I have to change? I don't want to change." You spoke, crossing your arms over your chest. 
He froze in place looking at you. You could feel his eyes traveling down your thighs. You blushed heavily. Without a single word he managed to answer. So you teased even more. A bitter feeling at the words. 
"I don't think your teammates are interested. And I don't think you'd care if they-" 
"Listen carefully." He threatened now closing in, trapping you between the desk and his body, hands on either side of your body. Slightly hunched over you to get to your eye level. 
"If Vargas looks at your thighs with that 'i want to fuck it' look again, I'm beating the fuck out of him in the living room." 
You gasped, eyes glued to him. Was he…jealous? 
"Now you do whatever you want." He said in a low voice. 
"Are you jealous…" you answered in a low voice. 
He flinched slightly. 
"No." He quickly answered. 
Of course not. Why did that thought ever cross your mind?
"Whatever… I have to get to base anyway…" you mumbled. 
"We'll take you." He said, moving back and taking a last glance at you before stepping out. 
You stood there confused for a few seconds. This man was unreadable. Terribly confusing. One moment he hated you, the other he threatened to beat up his friend because he was checking you out. You sighed, heading for your closet.
----
You were in the noisy car as you drove to the base with everyone. You had surprisingly spent a very pleasant morning with everyone, heading back to the base after lunch. You had to, unfortunately you needed to get back on the mission and you needed to be with the team for that. 
You weren't exactly excited to see Sergeant Keller. You just hoped you'd stay out of his radar. 
Arriving in the middle of the warehouses and building, ghost parked. Everyone jumped out of the vehicle, you following carefully trying to not wince. Ghost kept his eyes on you and it was hard hiding the injuries. 
"What time you done sparrow?" Soap asked. 
"Hum… don't really know…" you answered genuinely not knowing when you'd get out of the hell of a room you were about to get to. 
"We can wait for you, we all have time to lose." Gaz added. 
You were now incredibly sure ghost had somehow told them about the bruises he saw on your wrist. 
"I don't know…" you tried. 
"We'll wait. Text me when you're done." Ghost ordered. 
You looked at him, deliberately rolling your eyes at him before heading into the building. 
You could hear soap and gaz laughing before quickly shutting up. 
---
The hours flew by you, and you were pretty glad of that. You just wanted to go back home. You were also very glad that the mission was finally coming to an end. Your part would be over tonight, so you'd be far away from sergeant Keller. 
The clock showed 7pm. You watched everyone as they put away their stuff. Grabbing your phone, you texted ghost. 
-"I'm done. In case you actually waited…
- "Copy."
You rolled your eyes again. You were putting down your phone when another notification rang. 
"Of course I waited. We're out front."
You felt a ping in your heart. What was going on? Why was he so… protective all of a sudden? You stood up grabbing your things when a sharp pain to your ribs made you yelp. 
Turning around you saw Sergeant Keller behind you. The asshole had poked exactly where he had kicked you the day before. 
"You and I need to have a little talk." He threatened. 
You looked around. The room was empty. Fuck. And of course you were caged in between the table and him. The door to your right would be hardly attainable. 
"You really adore me don't you sergeant?"  you teased, a little shiver of anxiety running through you. 
"You have such a big mouth. Somebody ought to make you shut it." 
The slap across your faces stung. You had managed somehow to bite your lip in the process, little droplets of blood on your tongue. God damn it. 
"I literally didn't do shit this time Keller." You rang, rage slightly rushing through you. 
"You're right. Just thought I'd make you remember your place one last time. So you wouldn't go pretending to be part of the good guys again." 
"I AM part of the good guys for fucks sake!" You yelled. 
He grabbed your throat. Making you grab his wrist. 
"You think playing around with your little laptop after you were hunted down for multiple crimes makes you good? You think this is your redemption arc? Fucking idiot" 
You hissed as he pressed against your ribs again. He let go of your neck, now grabbing your bruised wrist and squeezing. You yelped in pain. Of course… using the already bruised parts not to add anymore evidence. 
"Fuck… stop Keller!" You yelled through gritted teeth. 
"Little bitch." He answered, a punch to your bruised ribs, this time making you cry out in pain, vision darkening at the intensity.
You barely heard him walk in. You didn't fully understand why Keller was thrown across the room. When the pain was finally slightly down you looked up, eyes widening at the sight. Ghost had Keller by the throat against the wall. He had apparently punched him already, as by the evident blood running down Keller's nose. 
"Ghost…" you tried. 
"Get out." He ordered. 
"What..?" You asked, shocked. 
"Soap and price are waiting. Get. Out!" He ordered, barking the last word. 
You flinched, but moved, hand over your ribs, running out. You heard Keller get punched one more time. 
Fuck fuck fuck. Your eyes stung with tears. Throwing open the heavy metal door, cold air biting at your skin, your eyes searched for price and soap. They were right in front, heads turning to you, instantly running as they saw the blood on your lip. 
"Sparrow!" Your heard soap. 
You breathed heavily. Ears slightly ringing. Price and soap stood next to you inspecting you. 
"Ghost…" you tried. 
"What?" Soap urged. 
"He's… he's beating up Keller… you got to stop him!" You yelled. 
Alejandro and gaz showed up running up to  price. Price cursed heavily. 
"Alejandro gaz! Stay with her, soap, with me!" He yelled. 
Soap and price rushed past you, as Alejandro and gaz surrounded you. 
"You're alright princess.." Alejandro said, a worried look on his face. 
"I'm fine… I'm fine… it's just a few scratches." You reassured. 
You turned around staring at the metal door. You were shivering. It was probably the cold… or probably the panic coursing through you. You were so thankful that he had shown up. But you were extremely worried about the trouble he was going to get into because of you. 
"Come on.. sparrow get in the car." Gaz asked. 
"N-no… I… ghost " you stumbled over your words. 
"He's coming back, don't worry. Price and soap are with him." Alejandro tried. 
"No!" A whimper escaped your lips. 
Your brain was a fuzz. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling. Any anger towards him had vanished. You were worried, you needed to see him. 
"Come on Sparrow, we're taking you home." 
You shook your head, making you even dizzier than you already were. 
"We'll bring him back, we promise." Gaz assured. 
You took a deep breath finally following them into the car. Tears fell down your cheeks, the cold hair had helped them turn your cheeks red. 
You glanced one last time towards the door before Alejandro and gaz drove out. 
Tags: 
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bvxygriimes · 7 months
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Ok I got a dirty Simon Riley headcanon…
I feel like when he cums.. he CUMS! Like… explodes cum.. and I just know his cum is THICK. When he cums inside you (for females) your abdomen bulges from the thickness of it. (If your male..) You feel like you gotta shit.. that’s all I gotta say. I know this man’s cum is thick like fucking honey😩
(edit: HOLY SHIT! THIS HAS HIT SO HARD OMGGG)
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3archangelsaints · 12 days
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Call-sign: Kilo
@deadbranch 100 word fic challenge.
Riley was a massive German Shepherd, a slight anomaly to the breed, he was loyal and had a good sense of character. He adores and engulfs you in his fur when he bunks with you.
How ironic is it that the one person on base that he loves to be trained by is Ghost, aka, Lieutenant Riley. He is more aloof than your dog, he engulfs you in stature, especially when he’s teaching you to snipe. He calls you ‘Kilo’ and it sticks.
Maybe you’re his to handle, putting the ‘K’ from K-9 in Kilo. Strangely, it's endearing. For Ghost.
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waffles-art-writing · 7 months
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You… Me…? - Simon Ghost Riley X Female Assassin Reader - PART II
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Summary: (PART ONE - READ FIRST) It’s been a few months since Simon started staying with you. He’s been there for you through what seems to be possibly the worse few months you’ve had to endure in a long while. There’s soft touches, calling words, tears and laughter shared.
Proofread: HA! Barely….
Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Female!Assassin!Reader with a child. ((I may write a part 3))
WordCount: 6k
Age Rating: 16+ Preferably
Codename: You pick, not mentioned really.
KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.
Warning/Info: Soft!Ghost, Female!Reader, Reader has a daughter. FLUFFY SO FLUFFY, Angst… I think… Domestic Life. Panic Attacks, Emotions, If I’m missing something. Tell me.
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It’s been about 6 months since Ghost’s first night at yours after the mission. Emilia basically said “move in!” Within the first day of being around the poor soul. I mean… he seemed to enjoy the ‘sleepover’ if you could even call it that. It ended up with this large tank of a man, sitting Criss cross applesauce on a couch cushion on the floor.
Watching Disney movie after Disney movie before he had to go home to actually go get a bag to stay overnight. She wasn’t too happy about that, however she was still understanding when Simon needed some time to himself. You were very proud of her when she said “that’s alright! Kinda like me at school, when it’s all loud and stuff!”. Your heart melted when she gave him her soft toy as some company just in case he got lonely while driving.
Even that night when Emilia passed out, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Half eaten. Head flopped to the side onto your leg while her feet were on Simon’s knee. You ended up taking her to bed while Simon cleaned up, meeting you in your room with a bottle of water and more painkillers for your heavily bruised ribs.
That night, all of you slept like a rock. Even Ghost, surprisingly. Even if he woke up way before everyone, and only got a max of four hours of sleep. But if you were being honest, that’s probably the best you’ve ever seen him. Actually a little more than a walking corpse, but it still made your heart ache when you saw him avoid looking in all the mirrors. Yet, you understood. Hell, you avoid them if you don’t have a shirt on. But that’s easily covered, but your face is almost on full display constantly…
—————
A scream rips through the quiet air of the apartment, gut wrenching and heart pulling. You bolt upright, the firm arm that was once wrapped around your waist is gone, the covers kicked off. Door already slammed open, sobbing echoes down the hallway and the deep hum of an attempt to soothe the sobs. You jump out of bed, beelining for your daughter's room, the small dim light of the nightlight lighting your way.
The wailing wind outside howls, the rumbling growl of the thunder in the distance almost shakes the home, the lightning flashing through the window from behind the curtains. The chilled air slipped in through the single layer windows.
Your daughter Emilia sobs, hands gripping the dark shirt of the man who is cradling her against his chest. His chin resting on the crown of her head, her hair a little messy from her tossing and turning through the night. You rush forward, sitting next to the two, your hand coming to rest on her back, her eyes welled with tears, rimmed with red as she peeks over at you. “Mama…” She whines, her small hands reaching out to you, your heart cries for your daughter. You scoop her up, holding her close as she buries her face into your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your neck. Simon sits next to you, keeping a large hand on Emilia’s back. His once plain expression showing worry, his dark eyes tracing your face.
“You’re okay sweetheart, don’t worry.” You soothe her, rocking slightly as you pull her closer. Simon stands from his seat, placing a quick kiss on the crown of your head and Emilia’s mumbling something about getting a warm drink. You nod, smiling up at the large man.
Emilia’s sobs quiet down, your eyes flicking to the side. The small clock on the bedside table lighting up with a dull pink, neon number’s reading 04:45. You sigh through your nose quietly, pressing your cheek into the top of your daughter's head.
Simon comes back, knocking on the door lightly. A small cup of warm milk - something Emilia normally has before bed - his large hand dwarfing the small mug. You stand from your spot, holding Emilia close, her legs wrapping around your waist. “Thank you…” you quietly thank him, nudging Emilia slightly for her to look up. Her teary eyes locked in on the small cat mug she picked out at a fair a few months ago.
Simon hands her the small cup, his spare hand moving to push the young girl’s messy hair out of her face. “You are one brave kid, Emilia.” Simon states, voice quiet. She smiles as she sips on the warm milk, eyes still rimmed with red.
You make your way back to your room, sitting on the bed. Emilia in your lap with her mug securely in her hands. Simon shuts the door quietly, climbing onto the bed next to the two of you. Simon leans against the headboard, stifling a yawn as he looks over to the alarm clock. He’s been actually sleeping ever since staying a few nights at yours, yet when this happens he won’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.
—————
After some time, light chatter, storytelling and tucking Emilia in between the two of you. She’s out cold, your hand on her back, her face smushed into Simon’s arm that's acting as her pillow. “She’s out…” Simon whispers, his eyes looking over Emilia’s features. You can see his eyes just over Emilia’s head, a small smile on your face as you nod your head. “No surprise.” You hum, hand rubbing up and down your daughters back. Simon's free hand coming up to lay across yours, he can feel your hand shaking ever so slightly.
He glances over to you, brows furrowed. “Y/N?” He whispers, his hand linking with yours properly. Thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. You sigh quietly, closing your eyes. “Just… Her crying or waking up from a nightmare always scares me… it rattles me.” You whisper, voice barely making a sound. Simon sits up, carefully moving his arm from out of underneath Emilia’s head. He scoops the young girl up, placing her where he was once laying down. Pulling you over slightly, placing himself behind you, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. His nose nudging the back of your neck, leaving a small kiss, littering them across the back of your shoulders.
“It will forever scare you, she is your daughter.” He mumbles, his breath fanning across your skin. “She is your flesh and blood, her pain is your pain. Her cries will forever hit you in the heart, make you feel the same pain she is feeling.” He states, you sigh. Leaning into him, turning your head to look at him. “Thank you Simon… for everything.” You whisper, he presses his forehead against yours. Eyes closing with a heavy breath. “Don’t mention it, now sleep. You need it.” He states, leaving a small kiss on your lips. You smile, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. Still not used to getting this sort of affection after so long of being on your own.
——————
Today was not anyone’s day, well in your house it wasn’t. Last night Emilia had another scary dream, three nights in a row now. First time you thought it was just the bad weather outside, Simon even agreed with you. The second night, you thought it was probably just the fact she was a little antsy because of the spelling bee that was the next morning. But last night, there was no plausible explanation as to why she would be scared, nervous or anxious about anything. You even called Simon about it, to see if you were just being over dramatic or not. He said you weren't, and suggested for you to take the day to do something to get your mind off it.
So… Today was the day you were taking her to a playdate with a friend, you would go out and do some shopping for Christmas in a few months, which to your dismay was quickly turning into a few weeks.
Which leads you to where you are now, standing in an aisle of the store, with the one god damn shopping cart with a stiff and squeaky wheel. To add to your agitation, there was a baby crying on the far side of the store, which you swear sounded like it was coming from right next to you.
Starbucks fucked up your order, you played it off like it was nothing but on the inside, you were cursing them out like it was a boxing match with verbal insults. Your car was low on petrol, so you had to dig around for spare cash to be able to just buy the fuel without breaking into your savings… which doesn’t have a lot in it to begin with… and to just add the sweet ol’ cherry of making your day even worse….
You got your period.
So with this whole mixing pot of shit, you are now staring down boxes of fake Christmas trees. With one question in mind. Snow or not to Snow? Yes it’s winter, it’s snowing outside, yes you could get a fake tree, with fake snow. Sounds stupid. But this year is the very first year you’ll be spending Christmas with a new person. Simon. He’s luckily not being deployed these holidays, which you were happy about. Because Emilia practically begged for him to join you guys, he was unsure at the start. Still a little hesitant now, but is still going to come.
All years before this one you had just a small christmas tree, tucked away in the corner. Half the time you went to another family member’s place, but this year they are going on a family trip… which you can’t attend due to limited money…. PERFECT family am I right… fuck them.
But you wanted to make it memorable no matter what, so here you are.
You pick up the box with the tree that has built in lights. “Fuck the snow, fuck the lights. I ain’t untangling them. Fuck this, why am I here. I wanna be sick.” You mumble, trying to put the box in the cart but it’s not fitting in. You push it, tug it, shove it. Eventually hitting it with a frustrated shout.
Your chest tightens, throat closing up as you crouch down. You grip at your hair, tears stinging your eyes as you just feel so…
“Hey, Hey, Hey… Y/N, look at me.” A voice cuts through your rushing thoughts, hands on your shoulders.
Your head snaps up, blurry vision as you try to focus on the person in front of you.
“Look at me Love, you’re okay. Just breathe… look at me.”
“Simon?…”
“Yes, it’s me. Just breathe, I need you to breathe. You’re hyperventilating. Just focus on your breathing for me.” He says, kneeling in front of you. Making sure you’re looking at him, his face mask being a good substitute for the balaclava. A black cap accompanies it.
You suck in a breath, it hurts, not as much as just before. But it still does, your throat still feels tight. Palms sweating, eyes stinging. It feels like your whole body is just wound tight, like a coil. Almost like a snake ready to strike, it was bound to happen. You close your eyes, listening to Simon talk, he’s guiding you through this battle, a battle of emotions.
Simon happened to need to get a few last minute things before he came around to yours tonight, aka buy all the things he knows you’ll probably want. He knew just by the sound of your voice over the phone that something was up, more than just Emilia’s sleeping problem. It was when he just happened to spot a blanket, one that you’ve been eyeing for a while. A big cosy weighted one to go on the couch, while he was looking at it he heard your shout of frustration. He immediately recognised it, he was rounding the corner into the aisle when he saw you crouch down. Tears spilling over onto your cheeks, he knew you were frustrated…
But god, he didn’t realise it had gotten this bad.
“Y/N, look at me darling. Talk to me, what do you see? Tell me.” He instructs, waiting for your answer to the question, may sound silly but it is a good way to get anyone who is having a panic attack, PTSD episode or simply just overwhelmed to calm their breathing and rushing thoughts.
“I see… Y-You.. I see you, and the stupid fucking shopping cart.” You huff out the end of your sentence, Simon letting out a light chuckle. “Squeaky wheel?” You simply nod at his query, letting out a huff of air as you wipe your eyes. Next thing you know, is your body being hoisted up from under your arms, you look up at the large lieutenant. “Now, what else do you need other than… whatever the fuck is in your cart?” He asks, peering into the shopping cart.
Apart from the box of the christmas tree, there’s a roll of wrapping paper, a box of some new Christmas decorations. A lot of colours mashed into one cart, and there lays the list, sitting on top of your side bag. Three things ticked off the unnervingly large list. Simon picks up the list, stepping back over to you, glancing up to look around to see if he can spot any signage to give a clue as to where he could find the items.
“I have no clue how I’m going to handle this, I am not in the mood to be here at all.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself, a cramp biting its way through the painkiller you took before you left the house. Simon’s large hand cups your cheek, making you look up at him. “Hey, I’m here. We will do this together, or we can come back another time.” His voice rumbles, sending a shiver down your spine. You simply nod, lips pulling into a thin line. “Thank you…” Simon shakes his head, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “Quit thanking me, alright?” He states, pulling you into his side.
“Now, should we start with the new clothes for Emilia?” His voice held a happier tone to it, only ever so slightly.
—————
“Simon you really didn’t have to, I could’ve paid for it.”
“No.”
“Simon…. Please at least let me pay you back somehow.”
“No.”
You sit there with a pout, creased brows and hands motion in a ‘huh??’ Expression. He just paid for the whole Christmas shopping, he even went back in after you loaded up the car with a bag in hand. Keeping it away from you so you can’t see into it, which you didn't push to look into but still it caught your curiosity.
“Now I feel guilty… that was a lot of money.” You state, looking down as you pick at the stitching of your jacket. Simon is driving, he walked to the store because he doesn’t own a car. Well he did, but swapped out for a bike so he has an excuse to not leave his flat as often. Which is why you are the one mainly driving everywhere. “Don’t feel guilty, your payment to me is just being happy.” He states, making your cheeks warm at his words.
*He what? Nah surely I heard him wrong, right? What does he mean by that, that can’t be a payment. I may seem happy but I’m just putting on an act… well I was… still am… I think?*
“God you’re cheesy” you mumble with a small laugh, Simon chuckles as he starts the car.
—————
The muffled steps of running breaks your calm, you place your book down and look towards the front door. The jingle of keys and the opening of the door sounds out, Simon holds the door open as Emilia runs inside. Cheeks rosy from the chilled air, and by the sounds of it, running down the walkway outside to get to the apartment.
“MAMA! Look what Papa got me!” Your heart stops, blood chilling as you stare wide eyed at your young daughter. She’s distracted by kicking off her boots by the door and throwing her jacket onto the hook to notice both the adults that are present freeze.
Everything seems to go in slow motion, your eyes moving up to meet Simon. He just managed to close the door when your daughter called him the title of Father. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears, hands shaking as you move to sit up right. Simon just stares back at you, face neutral as usual but still his eyes are flooding with emotion. He places the bag down on the ground, toeing his boots off mindlessly.
You’re snatched from your trance by your daughter jumping onto the couch with a small box in her hands. You shake your head lightly, your mind still in a mess as you try still your shaky hands. “What did Simon get you Pumpkin?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact she just called your…. Boyfriend? No… you haven’t agreed on that… Your situationship… her father. You’ll talk to the man in question later, when Emilia is either asleep or occupied watching the TV.
Simon just stands by the door, heart beating so loudly he thought it might as well have broken through his ribs and be on a speaker for the world to hear. His chest is tight, it's warm but still it hurts. Almost suffocating, he’s touched by the name but still, there’s that nagging. Tugging, almost ripping, feeling clawing at his thoughts.
*No, I can’t… She’s just young, she doesn’t understand what it means. Just ignore it, push it aside like you always do. Like leaving for a mission, drown these stupid fucking feelings and forget about them… like you always do, so easily… like always… so easily…*
His body was moving on its own, placing the items he got in the kitchen and putting them away. Muscle memory, he swallows thickly as the words race around his mind again. ‘Fucking stop it, Simon…’ he curses to himself. He leans on the countertop, glancing up to spot you smiling. Emilia smiling back up at you, joyful as always. You are practically glowing in his eyes, not just you.
No, both of you.
Both you and your daughter are like the sun, shining so brightly and warming in his cold and dark life it makes it almost impossible for him to slink back into the darkness. To drown himself in Jack Daniels while sitting slumped back at his flat, that's cold and dark… practically empty and dusty. He’s barely stepped foot in it when he returns after the few missions he’s been on since that one with you 6 months ago. God, he can’t even stand staying there because of how just… miserable it makes him feel when he isn’t with you and your daughter. You have managed to light up all the dark and dingy cracks in his life in the span of mere months, hell he practically survives off your presence when he’s not at base.
If he was to actually pay attention to what his body says when he leaves for a mission, he will realise it is sad, in pain. He would find it difficult to leave you and Emilia if he didn’t push the emotions aside and just got on with it….
You meet his eyes, smiling at him. That goddamn smile… the same one your daughter has and willingly gives… yet he can tell yours is from years of pain and hardship but finally, your light is shining through and it's not only affecting him in good ways but also you.
—————
It’s been a few weeks since your daughter called Simon “Papa.” That night you were planning on talking to Simon, but you didn’t end up getting the chance. You passed out on the couch with Emilia, the painkillers for your cramps make you drowsy, so in turn. You were out cold when it was bedtime for your daughter. Simon ended up carrying both of you to your respective beds, you were out like a light, just like your daughter. “Like Mother, Like Daughter” he quietly joked when he saw you both asleep.
You tried to talk to him throughout the few weeks but things just kept getting in the way, or you forgot about it, or even he was at base for work.
Then the worst thing you could think of could happen just before Christmas, the flu. Emilia is curled up on the couch, breathing heavily in her sleep. You’re quietly picking up the dirty tissues from around the couch, carefully picking one up that’s clasped in her hand. You knew something was up, she woke up yesterday with a headache, feeling warm. You suspected it was just a cold, so you let her stay home. Today was supposed to be the last day of school, she was so excited for it as she would’ve gotten to have a shared lunch.
You dump the dirty tissues into the bin, grabbing some cleaner and a rag. Wiping down all the surfaces to try keep the flu off most surfaces, if you were honest with yourself. Your efforts are working but not as much as you wished. You’ve been fighting a head cold all morning, chugging water and a few pills to hopefully clear up your sinuses, to no avail.
You tip the bowl of half eaten soup down the drain, rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. You lean on the counter, rubbing your temples. Groaning quietly as you feel like your head is a bag of sand, the ticking of the clock on the wall sounding ungodly to your ears. Loud and irritating. Then an ear piercing knock hit the door, it sounds deafening to you, yet you know it was a gentle knock.
You make your way to the door, opening it and cringing away from the light. “You might wanna go back to Base… Emilia has the Flu and I have… whatever the fuck I have.” You grumble, noticing it’s Simon. “Yeah right, like I’m going to leave you alone after being gone for nearly a week.” He states, pushing the door open more and nudging you to the side. His hand immediately pressed against your forehead.
His hand is cold against your forehead, you start leaning into it as it soothes the throbbing. “You’re burning up, fucking hell. Go sit down.” He instructs, you wave him off, grumbling something he doesn’t catch.
“Y/N… go sit down.” He grunts, leaving the bag of things on the counter. You flip him off, ignoring his gaze and words as you go about folding laundry that’s on the table. “I’m fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You pause, feeling yourself waver, the world starts to spin. The feelings of your stomach knotting fills you, your throat burns. You drop the shirt and sprint to the bathroom, sliding down on your knees, leaning on the toilet bowl.
Simon is right behind you, holding your hair out of your face, hand rubbing your back soothingly. Tears burn your eyes. You hate being sick, because you end up crying. You don’t know why, but you’ve always done it, it’s not like it hurts or anything. You just don’t like it, it’s just a wave of emotion that hits you as well as vomiting up whatever is in your stomachs. Your hands clench the edges of the porcelain surface, gagging as your shoulders shake.
“Breathe, Y/N you need to breathe.”
The timbre of Simon's voice cuts through your rushing head, you didn’t even notice that you’re breathing quickly. Almost hyperventilating. Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be? You’re fucking crying.
“Love, breathe. Focus on me, not anything else, just me.” He says, voice soft but still commanding.
‘You can turn a civilian into a lieutenant but never turn a lieutenant into a civilian.’ Or something, you aren’t sure you just know whatever Price once said is about a soldier never losing their commanding voice even if in a civilian uniform.
You sit back, a damp cloth being placed in your hand. You wipe your mouth, tilting your head up at the ceiling with closed eyes as you flush the toilet, the taste of stomach acid tainting the back of your throat, coating your tongue.
That alone almost sends you into another gagging mess.
“That’s it, breathe. You’re okay…” you simply nod as you listen to Simon. Tears still staining your cheeks, you blink your eyes open.
The sound of running water fills the room, the sound of a plastic lid being flipped open breaks through the rushing water. You glance over, the tub being filled with water, Hot? Warm? Cold? You don’t know, you just know you see Simon rustling around with a bag of sorts along with what looks like a soap bottle.
Epsom Salts. Salts to relax your body and give you an energy boost, allegedly.
“What are you doing?” You mumble, shifting to lean onto the side of the bathtub. Hand dipping into the water, it’s hot but not too hot. It’s nice.
“Running you a bath, gotta get you to relax and give you energy.” Simon's voice rumbles, sending a calm wash through you. You just hum, pressing your forehead into the cold porcelain on the edge.
Hands run across your back, slipping around to your front pulling you gently to look up at Simon.
“Get undressed and get in, I’ll be back okay?” He states, helping you stand to sit on the toilet, flicking the lid down. You give him a thumbs up, yawning as you drag your shirt over your head.
You hear hushed voices from outside the door, a small whine of protest and a breathy chuckle.
“Well your mum needs to rest, she’s not feeling too well. Like you.” Simon’s voice mumbles, soft and low to not break the quiet air too much. He scoops Emilia up in his arms, keeping her snug in the cocoon of a blanket. “Can I see Mama?” She sniffles, her stuffy nose making it harder to breathe. “I’m sure she won’t mind, but you’re off to bed straight after. Deal?” “Deal!” Simon smiles down at her, his arms holding her close.
He quietly walks towards the bathroom, pushing the door open. He notices the lights are off and a few candles are lit, smelling lavender. “Love?” The man asks, peering around the door. “You can come in.” You chuckle lightly, leaning onto your arms on the side of the tub. Simon steps in, crouching down next to you with Emilia, she’s already reaching out to you.
Her hands resting on your cheeks, something she’s always done, especially when one of you is sick. You have no clue where she picked it up from, she would normally press her forehead against yours but you’ve warned her about doing it if one of you is sick. She’s a smart kid.
“Hey sweetie.” You smile, placing a hand over hers. “Are you okay? Papa said you’re sick, like me.” She asks, you can see tears starting to well in her eyes. Heart swelling with emotions, still noticing she called Simon papa again. “Aww. Pumpkin, it’s just a tummy bug. That’s all, I’ll be healthy as a horse in no time. But, we’ll both get better quicker if we both rest.” You state, brushing your fingers through her hair. Trying to tame her wild hair.
“So… Simon is gonna take you to bed, alright? I know it’s a bit early, but it’s to help us both get better okay?” Emilia nods her head, quickly pulling away to cough into her elbow. It sounds painful, both you and Simon grimace a little at her strained lungs.
“Sleep well my darling.” You smile, running a thumb over her cheek. “Night Night Mama.” She smiles, sniffling. Turning back to hide in the blanket, tucking herself deep in Simon’s arms.
———
You sit there in the hot water, focusing on your breathing. The scent of the candles wafting through the air, the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. You smile gently to yourself, honestly surprised, A little flustered, but mainly grateful for Simon and what he has done. Yet you’re a little nervous that he may get sick himself, and if you know him well enough he will just brush it off and continue to go about life as he normally does.
You’re beyond happy that Emilia has taken a shine to him, as if she wouldn’t. But you’re a little bit surprised? Maybe… that Simon has so easily been able to slip into almost a domesticated world without being overwhelmed by all of it. Sure he has his days, everyone does, especially people like him. You’re happy he’s your boyfriend - wait, no. You haven’t figured that out yet. Friend with benefits? No that sounds harsh and crude, really good friend that you’re happy to share a bed with and let him kiss you occasionally? No, the title is too long. Situationship? Maybe, you’ll ask him about it. Especially since Emilia called him Papa again, something you have yet to tick off your mental list of shit to talk to her about.
Simon shuts Emilia’s door quietly, walking back towards the bathroom. Knocking on the doorframe, hearing you mumble a quiet ‘come in’. He steps into the tiled room, coming to crouch down next to you. Knees almost clicking, causing him to hide a grimace.
“How’re you feeling?” His voice rumbles, quiet to not cause any headache to ensue. You shrug, leaning on your arms again on the edge of the bath, bubbles popping quietly on the surface of the water. “Better… calm. A little tired but still awake enough to talk to you.” You smile, your cheek pressed against your arm.
“Good. I just want you to relax, you’ve had a shitty week. You both have.” He vaguely motions in the direction of Emilia’s room. He notices how your eyebrows are set, furrowed gently, barely noticeable. You’re thinking.
“What’s on yer’ mind?” He asks, adjusting to sit on the floor properly.
“You”
“Me?”
You nod your head, leaning back a little. You notice his eyes aren’t leaving your face. He’s trying to figure out what you mean, you sigh, sinking lower into the water, below the dying bubbles.
“It's about what Emilia said…” your voice trails off, Simon tilts his head, throat going dry. He knows what you are talking about, he’s just anxious? Uneasy, feeling unwell almost.
“Is it because she called me her father?” He asks quietly, watching you look over at him. Nodding, your lips pulled into a thin line.
“Yeah, I want to say I’m sorry. I should be telling her you aren’t her father and that you and I… we aren't officially together, what are we? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we a situationship? Friends with benefits? What do-” you ramble, brain going a million miles a minute. Almost making you breathless, chest tight with trying to figure out what you two are.
“What do you want us to be?” Your words die in your throat when you hear him ask the question, you look at him. Tracing his features with your eyes, his scars, ruffled hair from wearing a hat all day. His stubbled jaw, which is clenched, you can see it.
“… I don’t know…”
Simon nods his head, he had a feeling you would be unsure.
He’s even unsure on what he wants you to be to him, he wants you in his life and Emilia. His fingers twitch to move, to hold you close. He sighs, looking down at the tiled floor, shifting in his spot as he looks back up at you. He sees your eyes unfocused, he knows that look. Always the same, no matter what. You’re thinking.
“I want you to be in my life Simon, I want you to be in my daughter's life…” you pause briefly. “You have become such a big part of it in such a short time. You understand the struggles I go through, even though you aren’t a parent. But you understand that this is hard, and you’ve been there for me for the entire time you’ve been here…” you state, looking at him.
“I want you here Simon… I want you to be a part of this family. Only if you want to.”
Simon’s world slows, your words repeating themselves like a record. His chest tightens, muscles constrict and relax. His eyes dart between yours, to your lips then back to your eyes. The same eyes he’s seen tears in, creased at the edges from laughter or blown out in the dark room to see him as much as they could.
“I want to.”
Your lips part, looking at him. “I-… Uh.. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want-” “I want to be with you Y/N. I want to be able to call being with you, home. come back to this apartment and see both you and Emilia.” He cuts you off, knowing you would try to spill all the regret you may have towards the matter.
His hand tilts your chin up to look at him, his eyes soft. Fingers gentle against your skin as he moves his hand to where your shoulder and neck meet.
“I would do anything to call you mine, to say that I have someone at home waiting. I want to be able to be here for you, help you through all the shit you have on. I don’t care if I have to stay up late, making sure Emilia is sleeping while you try to sleep yourself.” He pauses, smiling gently.
“I want to be here for you to lean on me, to cry to me if you need, scream at me cause you’re frustrated, punch me because you’re angry. I want to be here to laugh at some silly joke Emilia comes home with from school, or help her with school projects… granted I’m not the most artistic person out there…” you chuckle at his words, leaning into his hand.
“I want to call you mine… and I want to be yours if you would give me the honour of allowing me to be.” His voice is firm, but soft and earnest.
You nod your head, biting your lip as a tear falls down your cheek. “Of course…” you sniffle, laughing to yourself for how silly you must look. “God I must look pathetic.” You mumble, Simon just shakes his head, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“You don’t look pathetic… You are as stunning as always… despite the bed hair.” He teases lightly, you just laugh. Grasping his wrist, leaning into his hand.
“You’re an asshole…” he just shrugs, leaning in. “But you like it, cause that means you can be an asshole back…” he muses, you just sigh, shaking your head. “Yeah yeah. Whatever you say Lieutenant.” A sly smile spreads across your lips, it quickly dies as Simon closes the gap between you.
His lips are firm, passionate, confident but also gentle and loving. You can feel the emotion behind the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his other hand dipping into the water. Sliding down your back as you lift your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders. He chuckles against your lips, mumbling “Don’t drag me in there, Love.” You smile, pulling back to look at him. “I’m not that cruel.” You smirk, running a hand through his short cut hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly, a shiver running down his back.
You scoop up some bubbles in your free hand, blowing them into his face. His once raised brows drop, the small smirk gone. He flutters his eyes open, staring at you.
“Really?”
“Really.”
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TAGLIST: @grandnuttrash @thesnailus (Idk if this worked)
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cheesit-notes · 7 months
Text
Simon Riley + Hand Kisses
tags: kissing obviously, ptsd for simon basically, gn!reader, overthinking simon, simon getting violent at one point, a/n: sorry i was gone for a week! i want to say i worked on stuff but ive been busy with things and this was the only thing i did. im not all that happy with the time to result ratio of this tbh but i love the idea of Simonand hand kisses so enjoy!
Ghost who cannot stand any and all kinds of intimate touches. he doesn’t like intimate touches. no, actually, he loathes those touches. it reminds him of a time he’d really rather forget. there’s no way to really kiss him without having to slowly practice. underneath the mask, he’s nothing more than the emotionally scarred, vulnerable Simon Riley who went through far too much for any human.
the first time both of you technically kissed, you had asked if you could kiss him, he said yes because you looked like you wanted it so badly. the two of you stood awkwardly in his barracks. he’s wondering if he should’ve changed clothes earlier, he just got back and was still in his uniform, probably smelled fowl, but you didn’t say a word. ah, he thought he could handle it. he really did. but to kiss was a lot easier said than done. and he’ll never fully forgive himself for shoving you away slamming you against the wall, and he was choking you. he didn’t actually hit you, you tell him that everyday, but the fact he fully intended to hit you for the moment scared him. plagued with the thought that he truly was no different from his father; he could barely look at you for the weeks following that, much less talk to you. no, he refused to do so much as to stand near you; petrified he wouldn’t snap out of it in time, terrified he’d hurt you.
months later, he asked if it’s alright to try again. the kissing thing, you know? it was months after the previous attempt, you and Simon had already reconciled, as much as possible anyways, so the question left you a little confused. you were happy to, but only if he was really ready. and he said he was, he swore it. although.. looking at you, thinking back about the previous attempt, made him anxious. but he already said he would. so he should? he should stick to his words, right? youd probably think hes a coward. god, a man shouldnt be a coward. and he cant be a coward. and all these thoughts ran through his mind. he doesnt realize he’s zoned out and that you’re staring at him with a concerned look on your face. its not until you decide to speak does he snap back.
“are you sure you want to do this?”
he’s not even sure what to respond. what did he want?  he’s only really thought about what you wanted. it’s not like his wants really mattered in his eyes.
“you know, we don’t have to do this. we can still have a perfectly fine relationship without–”
“no! absolutely, no, we.. we have to kiss.”
he insisted, almost yelling like he’s afraid he wouldn’t be heard. and that you’d leave him because you’d think he couldn’t kiss you, because he couldn't give you of a normal relationship. and you deserved it. you deserved a normal relationship with someone who could give you what you wanted. and god, he wishes he were normal.
anyone could tell he was agitated. honestly, it isn’t easy for you. you could tell he wouldn’t handle it well if you kissed him directly. but if you didn’t then he’d isolate himself, thoughts spiralling like a roller coaster in his mind, and you couldn’t be sure when or where the ride ended. so, grab his hands, hold them in yours, and plant a gentle kiss on each. you hold his hands, looking into his eyes, and for what felt like hours, the two of you stayed put like that. until Simon told you to leave.
it caught you off guard, you’re a little taken back. but respecting his wishes, you leave the room. not even a minute after you leave, Simon slumps against the wall, he can’t stop the hot, burning tears from falling. maybe it was how soft your lips felt against his caloused hands or how careful you were with him, how you knew that he likely wouldn’t react well to either choice and yet you made the perfect one.
Simon Riley who sometimes holds your hand, silently hoping you’d kiss his hand again. he likes it when you give each knuckle a peck. if you bent down on one knee, you’d look like a knight kissing the princess’ hand, and Johnny would say this whenever he saw the chance. Simon Riley who still isn’t ready to kiss you directly, but he’s slowly working on it. Simon Riley who will probably learn to like different types of kisses, but right now, he's smitten over you and your hand kisses that make him feel oh so loved.
next time he holds your hand, give him a kiss, will you?
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tb-png · 6 months
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Retirement Era! Ghost - 👻
HE WOULD FATHER SO HARD ALRIGHT?!
He would be the ultimate dad to the stray cat he adopted which he proceeded to name Surface-to-Air Missile (S.A.M.) complete with the dad specs and lazy boy sofa recliner and sunday morning crosswords
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soap and the terrifyingly smart kitty love it too hehe
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localkaijukinnie · 7 months
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Soap and Ghost with images I thought were funny
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bonkchai · 1 year
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90% of the time he looks high as shit and idk why but it lowkey makes me angry like stop looking chill like that
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stoutpancakes · 2 months
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pride: simon 'ghost' riley x reader
warnings: smut, afab!reader, feminine reader, mdni 18+!!!
smut begins under the cut :) enjoy! words: 251
“Feel that, lovie?”
Her mouth parted in an ‘o’ as fingernails dragged down the broad expanse of his back. Her makeup was ruined: sparkling gloss smeared around her lips and mascara running down her cheeks. And it was all because of the man hovering over her.
“S’what y’do to me.”
A thick, tattooed forearm rested near her head while the other had a hand planted firmly at her hip. Sticky, lip shaped marks adorned his pale skin, which he wore with a sense of pride.
Pride.
Simon felt it in the way he was able to make her moan, to make her pussy clench tighter around his cock that dragged along her gummy walls. He was prideful in the way earlier she was pressed to his side when they went to the pub.
Oh, how pretty she looked on his arm. She belonged to him and no one else.
And that filled him with such pride.
Just the way she was whining his name and begging for release had his head spinning and cock twitching.
Whoever said pride was a sin had never felt the touch of her hands or her lips… heard the symphony of her moans or witnessed the way she arched her back with a sheen of sweat covering her flushed skin when she came. They had never felt the delicious squeeze of her wet walls that had Simon spiling deep inside of her, filling her to the brim with his cum.
Yes, he was indeed a prideful man.
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