#soft Simon

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 6

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Shower smut, Slight breeding kink if you squint, Simon Riley being a literal angel, basically all smut with a little bit of plot.

A/N: Hi loves, imma be real, i wrote this entire part in a day. I spent pretty much my entire afternoon writing this after i scrapped about 4 different versions. This is the best i got at the moment. Im still working on this series and requests. Just life is kinda busy. So please bear with me and enjoy the brain rot. This is also not proofread at all so RIP to any grammar police.

Word Count: 3012... This seemed longer.. sowwie, its smol.

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 5

You sleepily make your way towards the bathroom door, hand closing over the knob as the incessant need to pee urges you forward. It was a little after 2am, you had fallen asleep rather early having spent most of the day lounging around the apartment. 

Simon was on base for the day, running training exercises with Soap, Gaz and Captain Price. During the 3 months you have been living with Simon, you have come to learn his patterns. Training days meant that 9 times out of 10 he would spend the night on base. The days before a deployment he would make sure to stock the fridge and pantry with your favorites. On Sundays he did laundry, every 3rd wednesday he would get his haircut. Saturdays after returning for deployment were reserved for going out to Soap’s bar and having a well deserved drink. You also learnt his day to day routine, every morning he was home Simon rose at exactly 5:00am, went on a 12 mile run, when he returned if you weren't already awake he would prepare you a healthy breakfast and leave it out for you before heading to work. 

On days when you were awake when he got back from his run he would shower, and you both would spend some time preparing breakfast together. Although those mornings instead of the nutritionally packed meals he usually prepared you often convinced him to make some sort of carb and sugar filled breakfast. Those mornings he would often leave the flat grumbling about how he should’ve run extra. Those mornings were your favorite. 

Since you moved in your relationship with Simon had not progressed further than friends, sure there was still the burning desire that he ignited within you from just looking at you. And you would often linger just a little bit too long in his arms when he would give you a hug. But there hadn't been any kissing, and you haven't managed to end up naked in between his sheets. But that wasn't for lack of wanting.

As you shove open the bathroom door, you fail to realize that not only was the light on but the sound of running water was coming from the shower. As you quickly beeline for the enclosed toilet space, you don't feel a set of brown eyes watching your every move from behind the foggy glass. It isn't until you wash your hands in the sink and glance up into the large mirror on the wall that you realize you aren't alone. Through the fogged glass of the mirror you can make out Simon’s large silhouette, his tanned skin reduced to nothing more than a tan blob. 

“Oh my god!” You squeak, whirling around, your chest heaving as you finally face Simon. He's mostly obscured by the fogged glass door of the walk-in shower, but his bemused smile is clear. “I didn't think you would be coming home!” You mutter out, your cheeks turning pink as he runs his hand across the glass cleaning away some of the fog. Now you can clearly see his face, although distorted by the water droplets on the glass. 

“I should’ve texted you, I'm sorry.. I just didn't want to be late for the appointment in the morning..” Simon says as he reaches up, running his hand through his wet blonde hair.

“No, no! I'm sorry, I should've paid more attention. I'm such an airhead sometimes I didn't realize that there was someone in here..” you rush out as you try to desperately keep your eyes from straying from Simon's face. You aren’t sure if it's the heat from the shower or the pregnancy hormones but it takes all your willpower to keep your eyes from trailing down his toned body. 

Simon pauses for a moment, his dark brown eyes trailing over you, from the adorable flush of your cheeks to the swell of your stomach under the sleep shirt you have on. “It’s alright. Love," Simon smiles. One of his panty dropping smiles that you swear he reserves for only you. It's the smile that sends shivers straight to your core. That leaves you a hot panting mess behind closed doors. Living with Simon and not jumping his bones at every opportunity was damn near torture during your second trimester. You were able to take care of things yourself, but now that your bump had grown substantially, you hadn’t been able to find relief.  

Without thinking, you walk towards the shower and yank open the door, the hot steam pouring out. Little splashes of water hit your skin as you step into the small space. Your sleep shirt and shorts quickly drenched, as Simon stares at you wide eyed. 

“Sweetheart…” Simon warns as your hands come to rest on his wet cheeks, your thumb catching on his bottom lip as he looks down at you, his pupils blown wide. You quickly close the space between you two, your bump pressing against the firm plains of his abs, your arms snaking around his neck as you sharply tug him down to your height. Your lips capture his in a sloppy, wet kiss. Simon groans low in his throat, his chest vibrating against your overly sensitive breasts. A new wave of need pluses through you as you try to get closer, Simon's cock jumping to life as it presses against your lower stomach. Simon's large hands land on your hips squeezing slightly as he turns you, pressing your back against the cold tile wall of the shower. 

A startled gasp rushes past your lips as your back makes contact with the cold tile. A shiver running through you as your wet shirt makes it feel colder. Simon smiles against your lips, one hand coming up to graze over your pebbled nipples through the sopping wet fabric of your shirt. A breathy moan slips from you as Simon peppers kisses down the side of your jaw to your neck. The spray from the showerhead now sprays off his shoulders as he leans lower. 

“Fuck.. Please,” you whine, nails scratching along the tops of his shoulders Simon wraps his lips around one of your nipples, over the fabric of your shirt. The friction from the wet fabric sends waves of pleasure through you straight to your core, your legs starting to shake with need and Simon has barely touched you.

“Such a needy girl…” Simon murmurs against your skin, as he flicks his tongue across your nipple. Your cheeks flush pink at his words but you’re hanging on to each one like they’re your life line. “Why didn't you just come to me if you needed some help baby?” Simon whispers softly, as his fingers trace the bottom of your bump, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt as he pushes it up.

“I…I don't know,” You mumble your head tipping back against the cold shower wall. 

Simon hums, his lips once again brushing across one of your nipples, pulling another moan from you. “God, your tits are amazing. It’s been hell walking around trying not to stare at them. Knowing that my child is the reason, knowing that they are growing to provide milk for our baby,” Simon whispers against your skin, and you swear you could cum just from the sounds of his voice. 

“Simon… Please…” you whine, it's small and breathy, in any other circumstance you would be ashamed for sounding so weak, but right now you couldn't give two shits if the damn queen of England was standing here witnessing your plea.

“Tell me what you need baby, I don't want to hurt you..” Simon stands back to his full height, his hand coming to cup the side of your face. You force your eyes open, Simon's beautiful brown eyes staring at you. Simon is a large man, in all aspects of his life and the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you unintentionally. Especially now, as you carry his child within you, he would rather be buried alive again than accidentally do something to hurt you or the baby.

“I need you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I feel like I'm going to explode,” you whine, your needy hands coming to rake down his bare chest, sending a shiver through Simon's entire body. 

“Whatever you need, Love,” Simon grunts before he bends down and picks you up, nudging open the shower door with his shoulder as he cradles you against his wet chest. He doesn’t stop to turn off the shower or even dry himself off as he brings you into his room. He sets you down on your feet and quickly drops to his knees in front of you. His still warm hands catching the waistband of your wet sleep shorts. He pulls them down your legs, goosebumps erupting across your skin from the sudden change in temperature. 

Simon presses a series of soft kisses to the stretched skin of your stomach, his hands briefly cupping your belly/ “Hi Lovie,” he whispers softly to your bump and if you weren’t so ravishingly horny you could cry. The sight of probably one of the scariest men you know on his knees in front of you talking to his unborn child makes you want to scream in the best way. But your mind quickly goes blank as Simon's fingers trace the smooth skin of your inner thigh. 

“Turn around, elbows on the bed, pet,” Simon stands again, his hands on your shoulders as he gently turns you. As if on autopilot you lean forwards, resting your elbows on the bed, giving Simon a perfect view of your ass. A deep groan hits your ears as Simon's hand comes to massage the puffy flesh of your ass. Your skin prickles with anticipation as his fingers dip lower, gathering the slick wetness from between your thighs. The breath wooshed from your lungs as he thrusts one finger into your slick cunt. 

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl aren't you?” Simon hums, lazily thrusting his finger before he adds a second. You tip your hips back, trying to make him go faster, this slow languid pace he was setting was driving you mad. You needed to be fucked, and god damn if you didn't get it right now you were going to cry. 

“Si…” you whine, pushing your hips back into his hand as he curls his fingers within you. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m pregnant, not made of fucking glass. I swear if you don't fu-” Your voice cuts off as Simon slams into you in one quick thrust. Your world spins for a moment and if you hadn't been holding onto the bed for support you would’ve fallen over. A startled gasp passes your lips and Simon all but freezes. “No please don't stop, it just feels different but not in a bad way…” You quickly mumble reaching back haphazardly with one hand to try and grab Simon's hip to force him to move.  

“You sure?” Simon mumbles, his hands coming to rest on your hips, as he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. 

“Oh god, yes, please,” you moan, your face now pressed into the mattress. That was all it took for Simon to continue, his hips thrust into you at a rapid pace, obscene moans leaving your lips as he slams home each time. Sex felt different this time, there was no slight burn from how big Simon was but you felt full, so deliciously full. You had been worried about having sex at any point during your pregnancy, having read that some women have no sex drive during pregnancy, especially the 3rd trimester. But thank the lord above it was not the case for you. Your thoughts turn to nothing as Simon lets out a harsh moan, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Simon grunts as he adjusts his grip on your hip bones,his fingertips digging into your skin.

“Feels so good Simon.. I'm gonna cum..” You whimper as the familiar coil in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release as he pounds into you. Your skin slapping against each other so loud you're sure the neighbors know what's going on.

“Cum for me baby,” Simon leans forward, one hand wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you up slightly, your elbows no longer resting on the bed as he pulls you up against his chest. His hips still pistoning into you as he uses the new position to fuck into your harder. You reach up and grab the back of his neck with your hand, anchoring yourself to him, your other hand coming to find the hand still on your waistline. You guide his hand up to your throat where he gives it a gentle squeeze. 

That small squeeze was all you needed to go tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Stars dance in front of your vision as the world goes quiet for a moment. Simon finds his own release moments after yours, his entire body tensing behind you. As you turn to putty in his arms, “Woah, I’ve got you,” Simon whispers into your sweaty hairline as his arms carefully wrap around you and he manages to slip out of you and hold you up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, fully sated as you lean against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering against your back, one arm firmly around you, right under your breasts the other resting lightly on your bump. His fingers softly rubbing along your soft skin. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Simon grunts, maneuvering you to the edge of the bed where he helps lower you into it. 

“I just basically jumped you in the shower… “ you mutter, your eyes heavy as exhaustion hits you like a freight train hitting a brick wall. 

Simon pauses as he gathers your wet pj’s from the floor and shoves them into his laundry basket. “You think I would be upset by you jumping me in the shower?” He asks, a small smile on his face. 

You lift your head, watching as he shoves the clothes into the basket and grabs a black long sleeve shirt from the closet. He walks over, standing in front of you still in all his naked glory, the shirt in his hands. “Well.. I mean.. we haven’t exactly expressed wanting more than friendship..” 

“Love, I’ve been taking it slow because I thought you only wanted to be friends… not because I wanted to. God, watching you walk around the apartment, your stomach growing with my child drives me insane, I’ve wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you sensless every morning since the first day you got here.” Simon pulls the shirt over your head, and you put your arms through, the shirt still fits loosely even over your baby bump. 

“Oh…” you freeze for a moment, you and Simon had gotten closer over the time you’ve lived with him. You had learnt about his past, about his mother and brother. About his nephew. You held him when he cried one night, his words a broken mess of how he was afraid he would turn out to be his dad. How he wished he could talk to his brother one last time, so he could ask him how he got past the fear of turning into his dad. How he handled the fear of being a dad when he had Joseph.

But the entire time you had lived together Simon had always treated you with respect, he never touched your stomach without asking. He always made sure to keep a respectable distance from you when you were on the couch. He never entered your room without permission and never asked about your life before coming to London. 

But it wasn’t to say you didn’t share things with Simon, he knew your favorite color, your worst fear (unrelated to your family’s passing) , your greatest wish, he knew what you used to dream about being as a little kid. He knew that your favorite food could make you smile on your worst days, and that you liked to watch old sitcoms when it rained. If someone was to look into your conversations they would probably think you were already together. That you probably didn’t flaunt the physical aspects of your relationship. Simon had quickly broken down the walls you had put up around yourself, and had comfortably made his own spot in your heart.

Simon sits next to you, now dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, his large hand covering yours. You slowly look up at him, his brow furrowed as he studies your face. The small scar in his eyebrow evident this close, you reach out running a finger across it. The skin is slightly raised and water drips from his hair onto your finger.

“Then you should stop fighting the urge…” you finally whisper, your hand cupping the rough skin of Simon’s face. 

“Would you be okay with that? With me touching you whenever I wanted… holding you.. kissing you?” Simon whispers, his eyes closing for a moment as he leans into your hand.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your forehead coming to rest against his, your eyes closed. For a moment you just sit there. Your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling.

Could you be okay with that?

Could you let someone in that way?

Let someone get close enough that they could see all the broken and jagged edges of you?

Could you open yourself up to losing someone again?

The thought of Simon being gone suddenly, ripped away from you by some unknown, the same person who ripped your siblings and mother away from you makes you want to vomit.

But a small part of you chimes in, the part that knows Simon isn’t defenseless like your family was. Simon was a trained military man, a man who single handedly killed an entire crew for crossing him. He could handle himself. He had proved that time and time again in the field. He also had the rest of 141, the team who would go to the ends of the earth to find him. 

You open your eyes, and look at Simon, the answer on the tip of your tongue as you stare at his beautiful face. His light blonde stubble, the small scars, the crook in his nose, the slightly uneven line of his lower lip. “Yes… I-I want that.. I want all of it.”

Next Part: 7

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Oh my god what if! Instead of usual brooding Ghost who doesn’t change much from how he usually is unless they’re behind closed doors. We get a Ghost who turns into a literal puppy?

Like it’s not the full on shabang of a puppy but it’s like the subtle or quiet little actions of a puppy.

He sees Johnny walk into literally any room he’s in? He locks onto the man and perks up from wherever he is. He hears Johnny’s voice somewhere nearby? He trails after it until he finds the man and then hangs around.

And don’t even get me started on how he’s like when they’ve got actual privacy. The man is surprisingly clingy and always wants attention and just general affection. Soap’s fine with it. Fucking adores giving it to Simon whenever the hell he asks for it.

Simon trails him all over when he’s up and doing something. Even if it’s something as simple as washing his face Simon’s in the door and watching him, waiting patiently for him to finish so he can start hugging him again.

The man still doesn’t talk much, but Johnny can see the ears perked on his head and tail wagging behind him whenever Johnny’s giving him attention. And it’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

[starlight-shades]

Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch 3

• summary – Simon goes grocery shopping and proceeds to have lots of feelings

• rating – M

• wordcount – 4.3k

• warnings – references to Ghost's backstory, mentions of previous character deaths, mention of previous suicidal thoughts

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Leaving that morning had not been hard per se, but he hadn’t really known what to say. To Johnny, sure, he just gave him his usual nod and a bit of a grunt and that was that, but how do you say farewell to a child? To one you had only known for a day or two, but had unexpectedly come under your guardianship, and formed a hard and fast bond with? How about two?

Simon was still thinking about it as he stood in front of the village’s meagre offering of parenting books in their local bookshop. Alice, the older woman who owned the shop, was already familiar with him as he would semi-regularly stop in to pick up a new book whenever he got bored of the ones he had in his cabin (many of which he had already reread half a dozen times). He could feel her eyes boring into him, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce why. 

“Simon, love, why on God’s green earth are you looking at parenting books?”

She wasn’t known for being subtle.

“Needed something to read,” he rumbled back at her, a little more gruffly than he had intended. He liked Alice.

“Aye, I ken that, but why parenting?”

Simon shrugged. Liking someone only got them so far. He knew that this would send the village gossip mill into a frenzy, but his life wasn’t their business. His reputation as “brooding and mysterious” hadn’t been earned by answering questions.

 “Have you gotten someone pregnant, Simon?”

 That was laughable, for more than one reason. Instead of actually laughing, however, he just made his selection and moved onto the children’s book section (this did not help assuage Alice’s curiosity). 

 He grabbed books for children ranging from the board books for babies all the way up through chapter books with no pictures. Simon still had no idea how old they were after all. 

 Alice was still muttering to herself about him, but he tuned her out, instead directing his attention elsewhere.

 When he saw a book about famous artists, he added it to the pile with Johnny in mind. There was something in him that ached at the thought of the little ones curled up with Johnny on the couch as he read to them about something he loved. He could picture the feral smile that would stretch across his face as he added his own commentary to the short descriptions about Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo. Would Ailsa be interested in art? Would Duncan?

 Simon found himself thinking of all the different possibilities that stretched before them. They could be anything, like anything, love anything. And he would be there to witness it all. Like a gentle beast in his throat, he could feel Hope stretch her wings in welcome for the future.

 But like all good things in his life, this tentative joy could not last.

 His heart gave a stutter when he came across “Where the Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak. He paused, hand hovering over it. Setting down the books he had already chosen, his hands, only barely shaking, opened to the first page. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes, but he ignored it, mouthing along to the words as he slowly read through the book. 

 Simon remembered doing the voices of the Wild Things. He could practically taste the sounds in his mouth. His feet would not be the only ones stomping on the floor, and a tiny growl would join him in the rumpus. 

 This had been Joseph’s favorite to read with Uncle Simon. He had liked to read “Goodnight Moon” with his mom, and Dr. Seuss with his dad, but when it was Uncle Simon putting him down to sleep, he would always request “Where the Wild Things Are.” Sometimes, Simon would substitute his nephew’s name for that of the main character, and he could remember the little giggles that always resulted when he did that. 

 Shaking himself from his stupor, he closed the book and shoved it to the middle of his pile. He threw a few more on top, just for good measure (one of which was a cook book as he only knew how to cook like two things).

 Luckily, he had driven into town today instead of hiking, so he had plenty of room. 

 Alice looked like she had wanted to say something as she rang him up, but his continued silence seemed to be enough to dissuade her. At almost the last minute, a bookmark displayed on one of the end caps caught his eye. Noting the ladybird pattern, he added it to his purchases. He watched Alice’s eyebrows creep higher on her face, but she refrained from commenting.

 Simon knew that the book club she hosted would be rife with gossip and theories. Janet at the hardware store always caught him up on everything they said about him whenever he was in there. Whether he liked it or not.   Speaking of Janet, that was his next stop.

 He dropped off his haul at the car, and only spent thirty minutes sitting in the driver’s seat in silence. His shoulder where he got stabbed was also bothering him, but he resolutely ignored it. Simon had changed out the dressing this morning, and Johnny’s sharp glare at the wound told him that there would be a conversation about it when they put the little ones down tonight.

 His cabin was quickly becoming too cramped, and he needed to start making plans to expand it. From his experience building the rest of it, Simon already had a pretty solid idea of what he would need. 

 In those early days, he had fallen into woodworking. He couldn’t be around other people for very long, but he had needed something to do with himself. Woodworking, he found, was physical enough to engage him to the point where he could shut off his mind. There was no thought beyond the next phase of construction, or later, the next piece of furniture he needed. He could escape his own ghosts. 

 If he had seen that book when he had first retired, it would have broken him. Even still, Simon knew what the muzzle of his handgun tasted like. And the echoes of the past that he was getting now were reminding him of those tortured days. At least when he had actually been tortured, he had a goal in mind. 

 Oh how fervently he had worked to stay silent, to avoid giving into the conditioning that his comrades had fallen prey to. 

 But when he got out of the military, when he had retired the Ghost, there was nothing left for him. It took all he had to get through each day. Having a project had helped.

 And now, he was thankful for those skills. Because of them, he would be able to help Ailsa and Duncan. 

 For that, he would need lumber.

 “There’s a man I like to see!” Janet’s voice crowed out to him. 

 As he turned to where her voice had come from, he saw her standing sentinel at her till (only she was allowed to use that one). 

 Janet was a hag of a woman, with wrinkled, gnarled hands, and age spots dotting along her skin. Her white hair was wild in the bun she always had it tied in, but strands of it escaped and hung, wisp-like around her face. Around her wrists and neck were always rows upon rows of beads and baubles, which was an odd choice for someone who worked in a hardware store, Simon thought. 

 She had been his first friend.

 They had bonded over their shared disdain for most other people. Her son, a middle-aged man named Donald who also worked there always gawped at them when he saw them speaking with each other. Most people, he had gleaned, found her to be rather unpleasant.

 What had solidified Simon in Janet’s esteem had been when he had thrown a drunk man bodily out of the store when he had started threatening her for refusing to sell him anything. He had scared the piss out of the bastard, but Janet took one look at him, and a rather frightening smile had creeped across her face. From then on, whenever he came in, she would be the one to help him, answering his questions when he couldn’t figure out a particular problem he was having in his cabin construction. Once she tried to give him a discount, but he had refused. 

 “Janet,” he greeted. On his way from the bookshop, he had stopped at the bakery in town and gotten her a pastry. 

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, laddie,” she cooed, more at the pastry than at him, but Simon didn’t mind. 

 When someone tried to approach her register, her narrowed gaze shot up. A finger that looked like it could belong to a witch from one of those old fairytales stabbed in the direction of the other (empty) lane. 

 “Can’t ye see I’m helpin’ someone else?” she barked. Taking an eager bite of her pastry, red jam spilling onto her chin, Janet clicked on the walkie-talkie on her apron. “Donald get yer scrawny ass up here and help a customer.”

 After knowing her for years, Simon knew how to handle interactions with Janet. It was at this moment that he would wait, let her finish her snack, then tell her what he needed.

   Taking the last few bites, she spoke again. “Heard you were in town the other day. What are you doing back so soon?”

 “I’m expanding the cabin. Need to order some things.” She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t elaborate. 

 “Think we can handle that for you.” Licking the last of the jam off her fingers, she got out a pad of paper and a half-chewed pen she kept tucked behind her ear. “Alright, tell ol’ Janet what you need, and we’ll go ahead and get that ordered for you.”

 After detailing an extensive list of supplies to her, he added. “And put a rush on it.”

 “Aye.” Tucking the pen behind her ear again, she narrowed her eyes at him, studying him far closer than he was comfortable with, but he had long ago learned that this was something he would have to put up with from her. She was one of those rare people who was more stubborn than him. “You look too skinny. You need to eat more.”

 He didn’t but she always said that. 

 “I’ll take it under advisement, thanks.”

 Janet just glared at him. “Oh sod off, ye big British cunt.”

 He smiled at that. “Just give me a call when it comes in.” She was one of a handful of people with the number for the landline at his cabin. 

 That done, he quickly made his way through the next few errands. His car, an old Land Rover that looked like it had been through both World Wars, began to fill with toys (both for human children and dogs— he had no idea which the pups would prefer), more dishes, more towels (they were messy), and anything else he could think of. There was even one of those backpack (front-pack?) things you could strap babies to your chest with. He was covering as many bases as he could. 

 Deciding against getting clothes was a difficult call, but there were just too many factors at play. The biggest factor was the question of what size to get, but he was also worried about whether or not they struggled with certain textures like him. 

 Now, he was back in the grocery store, loading up now that he had three more mouths to feed (but from what he had seen Johnny could eat for three more people all by himself) Simon was overwhelmed as he stood in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. There were so many options. What did kids eat? The sugary ones were out of the question, but he couldn’t tell which ones would taste good. He usually just had tea for breakfast. 

 Simon knew that this much thought was likely unnecessary when it came to a decision like this, but he felt like he was on a dangerous precipice any time he had to make a choice when it came to Ailsa and Duncan. He really didn’t want to fuck them up. 

 “Can I help you, sir?” an employee asked as they approached him. He didn’t recognize her, luckily. 

 “Which of these is your favorite?” he asked. 

 She shot him an incredulous look. “Ehm, this one I guess,” she said, pointing to something with freeze-dried strawberries in it. 

 He put four boxes in his cart, nodding his thanks to her as he turned and left. 

 She looked even more confused now when she caught sight of his cart. And maybe to an outside perspective, the contents might be a little odd. 

 He had about a dozen different meat products (for breakfast and supper purposes—maybe the pups liked sausage with their eggs), a bag of bones that he had to make a special request at the butcher counter for (would they teethe? if not, he could use it for stock), three gallons of milk (one 1%, one 2%, and one whole), practically all of their stock of orange juice concentrate (he knew they liked it, and it froze well), six loaves of bread, and what could only be described as close to a metric ton of produce (mostly potatoes—they stored well in his cellar). There were also three bags of the sour candies that he knew Johnny liked. 

 Simon also had so many things that he could only guess what they were, but the cook book he picked up had called for them in some of the recipes he flipped through, so he added them to the cart. He was satisfied if he ate the same things every day, but he wanted to be able to feed the pups properly. There was also an element of not wanting to disappoint Johnny, but that was less relevant… mostly…

 After much deliberation and more bewildered looks from staff, he checked out and loaded the groceries into his car. 

 A rather brisk gust of wind blew with it the scent of rain on the way. A look up at the horizon showed storm clouds on their way in. Usually his joints would alert him to inclement storms, but he attributed the pain he felt to all of the stress he’d been under. It was also harder to pick out those usual aches when he had a stab wound in his shoulder. 

 Simon sighed, daydreaming about the hot shower waiting for him when he got home as he slid behind the wheel. It was a two-hour hike from the village to his cabin, but it was an hour drive back. The winding roads added more time than he thought necessary, but he also wasn’t going to advocate to the local council for a more direct route. Less traffic meant less people out in the woods. 

 Thinking back to the other night, it usually meant less people out in the woods. 

 At least the coming storm would wash away the blood in the clearing. He and Johnny probably needed to have a conversation about what he had done with the bodies, but if Simon was being realistic with himself, he probably wouldn’t bring it up. Better to let it rest, he thought. They were deep enough in the forest that it was unlikely anyone would find any evidence left behind. 

Simon allowed himself a small smile as he slowed along the gravel drive leading to his cabin. For once, he was glad to be home for more than the freedom from the attention he always got in town.

 The sound of the car door thudding shut echoed through the front yard. Ghost’s senses were immediately on high alert. 

 It was far too quiet, not even the warble of a bird.  

 His sidearm was still shut away in his bedroom, but he never went anywhere unarmed. Sliding his hunting knife from his belt, Ghost approached the cabin door on silent feet. 

 Adrenaline racing through his body, he pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. No sign of any movement that he could hear, not even Johnny’s rumbling snore if they were asleep. 

 With his back to the cabin wall, Ghost crept along the perimeter of the building. A glance through every window he passed revealed empty room after empty room. Luckily there was no blood that he could see so far, but it did nothing to assuage the pounding of his heart in his chest. 

 He approached the front door again, having finished a complete walk-around of the cabin. Ghost was about ease the door open, one hand on the knob one hand with the knife at the ready, before he heard a voice behind him. 

 “Si!”

 Whipping around, he only managed to stop the knife throw that was his automatic reaction, registering a friendly face before he was taken to the ground. 

 Two wiggling, yipping young wolves covered his face in a thick layer of saliva as they licked anywhere that they could get to. It took him a moment to fully comprehend the situation, and an even longer moment to process the very naked man standing over him, laughing his ass off. 

 Johnny was wheezing, he was laughing so hard. He had apparently just shifted back into his human shape.

 Simon could taste his pulse, the faint flavor of vermilion lingering in his mouth. Ailsa and Duncan had slowed, but not stopped their excited greeting, and he couldn’t bring himself to yell around them in that moment. This was the happiest he had seen them so far. 

 “They missed you,” Johnny was saying. “We were practicing our stalking, and you presented the perfect opportunity.”

 “Don’t ever do that again,” he seethed as calmly as he could, his racing heart pushing him to pursue rage over fear.

 The other man’s face fell. 

 “I could have hurt you,” he tried explaining, sheathing his knife once again.

 “Even if you got me, I could heal most wounds, Si,” Johnny argued, brow furrowing. 

 “I don’t care,” he snapped, stroking his hands over the pups when they startled. Trying again, he took a deep breath, gentling his voice. “I thought something happened, that someone had come to hurt you, or take them or— I don’t know.”

 Duncan whined, pushing into Simon’s lap. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry, dove, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he murmured into the baby-soft fur on his head.

 Johnny let out a long breath. “I’m sorry too, I should have thought that through better. Just wanted to have a bit of fun.”

 “I know, just… just don’t do that again.”

 They were quiet for a few moments, Simon sitting and stroking Duncan with one hand and Ailsa with the other. 

 “Did you have fun with Johnny while I was out?” he asked them, trying to lighten the mood again. 

 Ailsa perked up a bit, and nodded enthusiastically, stepping up with her front paws on his leg. She let out a couple excited yips, forgetting that she was still in her wolf-shape and Simon couldn’t understand her. 

 He humored her anyway.

 “It sounds like you had a good time. And Duncan, did you have fun today?”

 The darker pup in his lap shifted, looking up at him and giving him a smaller, but no less definitive nod.

 “Ailsa here is going to be an ace hunter soon, but I have a feeling Duncan would enjoy another activity instead,” Johnny added, still sounding chastised. 

 “Well I might have some options for him here in the car.”

 That perked up both of the children who scrambled off of Simon and eagerly followed him to the aforementioned car. He wordlessly started handing Johnny the groceries before digging around in the bags to find the ones he was looking for. 

 “I wasn’t sure what kind of toys you’d like, so I just got a bunch,” he told them, feeling a little ridiculous as he handed Ailsa the bag of dog toys and Duncan the bag of toys for human children. 

 “Why don’t you two bring those inside?” Johnny called from the doorway where he had propped it open.

 While the pups dug into their toys (some quite literally— there was cardboard and plastic shredded everywhere from all the packaging), the two adults set about unloading the rest of the car. Moving around each other, working as a team, falling into a rhythm was something Simon hadn’t experienced in years. It was strangely comforting, to have someone else there with him. 

 When he realized on their next trip what exactly was in the bags Simon had given Ailsa, Johnny snorted. “You do know that they’re not dogs, right?”

 He shot him a look. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure what they’d like to play with. Wanted to make sure they had something no matter what shape they’re in.”

 “Oh that’s actually sweet,” Johnny cooed at him. “Aren’t you just a big softie.”

 “Oi, shut it.” He pushed at his shoulder, soft enough to make sure the other man knew he was teasing, but still plenty rough. 

 And he did shut up, at least for as long as it took him to find the baby backpack. 

 “What exactly were you gonna do with this?” he practically squealed, or as much as a grown man is capable of squealing. 

 “Well, do you know how old they are?” Simon shot back.

 “Older than this, that’s for sure,” he laughed. 

 Johnny paused for a moment, and he could practically see the wheels turning in his head. A sinking feeling settled into his stomach when a feral grin lit his face, teeth a little too sharp to be human. The Scot slid the backpack on and took off for the cabin. 

 “Ailsa, love, come be a dear!” 

 “Well shit,” Simon sighed. 

 He gathered more bags to take inside, walking in to see Johnny tucking Ailsa, still in her wolf shape, into the backpack. 

 “Didn’t you just say they were too big for that?”

 He was struggling, as Ailsa had started wiggling, bored of this activity already. 

 “Yeah, but I think I can still get her in it.”

 She let out a couple barks, wiggling even harder, tail wagging.

 “I don’t think she’s going to let you,” Simon chuckled, moving to take her from Johnny.

 As he gathered her up in his arms, she gave him a couple quick licks on his chin before wiggling enough for him to understand that she wanted to be put down again.

 The rest of the unloading was uneventful, but hauling all of the supplies had aggravated his shoulder. Simon thought he had been discrete enough about his pain, but as soon as the door shut on his bedroom, the pups tucked in for the night after another chapter or two, Johnny was there. 

 By that point in the evening, the storm had begun in earnest outside.

 “Let’s get you looked at, big guy.”

 Johnny directed him to sit on a stool in the bathroom where he had already pulled out a first aid kit. 

 “I’m fine,” he tried to argue.

 “Oh none of that. Off with the shirt before I rip it off you.”

 Simon felt his ears burn and the telltale rush of blood rushing to his cheeks. More to avoid any observations about his reaction to Johnny’s words than anything else, he pulled his shirt off and sat, facing away from his friend. 

 His friend. They were friends, he supposed. 

 Rough, calloused, warm hands settled on his bare skin, and he flinched. 

 “S’just me, Si,” Johnny murmured in his rumbling Scottish brogue. He rubbed at the tension in his neck for a moment before he began peeling back the bandages Simon had haphazardly applied.

 “Oh that must’ve been a bitch,” he hissed as he caught sight of the wound for the first time. 

 “Should’ve seen the other guy,” Simon tried joking before remembering that Johnny had indeed already seen the man who had stabbed him.

 Silence fell in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. 

 Wordlessly, Johnny cleaned out the wound again before he reached back into the first aid kit to grab the needle and thread. He didn’t question why Simon had included it in the kit, he never questioned anything. When he touched him again, pressing the sides of the wound together so he could begin the sutures, Simon flinched again. Johnny just rested his hands against his back, letting him get used to the touch again, only moving when he relaxed marginally. 

 “I ripped them to pieces.”

 “What?”

 Johnny spoke again, his tone grave, but his voice soft. “I tore them apart. When I saw what they had done, I lost it. Seeing the wee ones already sent me into a bit of a frenzy. But those hunters, I— it sent me over the edge.”

 He didn’t say anything, just let Johnny speak, listened to the creep of rage slinking its way into his voice. 

 “We’re hunted by a handful of idiots who know what is out there, but that don’t believe that we have any humanity.” Johnny let out a sarcastic huff. “Ironic. The monsters being more human than the actual humans.”

 They sat in silence for another moment as Johnny finished the last stitch on Simon’s shoulder.

"I'm sorry again about this afternoon."

"I know."

Silence again before—

 “I wish I had done worse,” he confessed. “I know you killed them already for what they did, but I want to kill them all over again for hurting you too.”

 Frozen, Simon just gaped like a fish out of water as Johnny applied another bandage. He couldn’t even gather his thoughts enough to speak by the time he was done cleaning up the mess they had made on the counter. 

 “Goodnight, Simon,” he murmured on his way out of the room, giving him one last squeeze to his good shoulder.

[bluegiragi]

puppy playtime!!

early access + nsfw on patreon

[stilitrash]

The dynamic I never knew I wanted but definitely needed

[pouletpourri]

I know the circustances didn't make it avaliable, but..I kinda wish we had a farewell scene

[scribbledghost]

Give me a Simon Riley who's soft.

Give me a Simon who, when the guys ask him to run to the pub after a successful mission, turns them down. The reason he gives them is "because I just spent two months with you assholes", but everyone knows it's because he's too eager to get home to you to waste any more time.

Give me a Simon whose favorite place to be is with you in bed or on the couch, laying atop you like a massive weighted blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you massage his scalp. He constantly falls asleep like that, and he swears it's the only position he can sleep in that guarantees he won't have any nightmares.

Give me a Simon looks at you and, for the first time in decades, imagines a future for himself. He's never allowed it before - he's always been convinced that he'd die young and has always known he'd be grateful for it. But now, when he watches you smile back at him, he finds himself thinking of future years he never thought he'd want.

Give me a Simon who lets you trace his scars with your fingertips, and who starts to associate them less with the injuries that caused them and more with the sensations you give him. And all the while, he's looking at you like you hung the moon, the stars, and everything else in the sky.

Give me a Simon who has earned his reputation as a ghost, a phantom, a threat, but refuses to so much as raise his voice towards you.

Give me a Simon Riley who is completely and utterly yours, for as long as you will have him.

Give me a Simon Riley who will burn the world down at your feet to keep it that way.

[frudoo]

Simon Riley kisses with everything he has—everything he is. He leaves you breathless long before his lips ever touch yours. Gently running his fingers through your hair, or cupping your face with one hand, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. His honeyed brown eyes are so full of life as they stare into yours and it feels like he’s picking apart your soul just with his gaze. Just before you get the chance to break the tension, find some relief, he does it for you, closing the expectant space between the two of you. His lips part deliberately, gently slotting between yours with careful, practiced ease because he wants it to be perfect for you every single time.

Simon Riley kisses with nothing short of perfection; maybe it’s the military in him that makes him need to perform flawlessly, or maybe it’s the way you look at him like he’s human that makes him want to cherish you, convince you—or himself, though he’d never admit it—that he can make you happy. He’s obsessed with you, the softness of your lips, the taste he craves on a long, grueling mission. Perhaps that’s why he devours you when he comes back home, kissing you like his life depends on it, because it does. He suckles on your bottom lip like a newborn to its mother’s breast—you’re his life source and he’s drinking you up. You nourish him and don’t even realize it until he’s cradling the back of your head, pulling you in impossibly close.

Simon Riley refuses to pull away first, a low whine escaping his throat when you do part. You pant, desperate to catch your breath but all too willing to let him steal it again as his tongue slides into the gap of your mouth, running along your teeth. He’s uncaring of the sloppiness, immune to the feeling of slobber running down his chin. All that matters is you and every inch of that perfect mouth that tells him you’re his. No matter where his hands are initially, they’ll wind up beneath your shirt, trailing up your back and tracing mindless patterns on your soft skin. The skin that reminds him that there is a life worth living, even if you’re the only one that cares—and care, you do, in the way you suck his hungry tongue into your mouth, just as eager as he is.

Simon Riley, who was so afraid to love, finds it hard to adore you with anything less than his entire heart.

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon woke up to you sleeping far away from him in the bed so he pulls you back to him <//3

C/W: none just clingy simon missing u in his sleep (pure fluff) !!

W/C: 944 bubs

Simon shifted in his bed, feeling the empty coolness beside him. He reached out, wanting to feel your warmth, but his hand met nothing but empty sheets and bed covers.

"Love..?" He whispers faintly, his voice filled with a quiet desperation to find you.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Simon slowly opens them to find you there, on the other side of the bed, lying with your back turned to him.

He lets out a quiet chuckle at the position you're in, your legs flung out in a starfish, snoring the night away. It's a silly sight, but it cracks him up, and he can't help but chuckle softly.

"Baby..." Simon sleepily whines to himself, calling out to you. "C'mere.."

Simon gently moves closer to you, pulling on the sheets to free himself. You feel his arm encircle your waist as he pulls you towards his warm body, spooning you in his arms.

Your skin meets his, and the warmth from his body causes your heart to skip a beat. You feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, feeling peaceful and safe in his embrace.

As he holds you close, Simon's thoughts drift to you. He thinks about how soft he is for you, how you make him feel alive and whole, how he doesn't want to let go, ever.

You're his everything, his world, and he can't imagine life without you. He feels his heart swell with love for you, and the need to be close to you and hold you tight, to never let you go.

With you in his arms, Simon feels complete. He would do anything to keep you close, to love and cherish you every day for the rest of his life.

You're the love of his life, and he will never forget the moment he first held you close, feeling your heart beat against his own, and knowing that he had found his soulmate.

As he holds you close, Simon's body moves instinctively, nuzzling his face in your neck, wanting to feel your warmth, to be closer to you. He wraps his arms around you tighter, unable to bear the thought of ever being apart from you again.

The warmth coming from his body slowly roused you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open as Simon's arms tightened around your waist. You could feel his heart pounding against your back, beating in time with yours, and your heart skipped a beat in response.

"Simon?" You called out to him, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

"I'm here, love," he whispered, his voice low and full of love, and you could feel his body pressing up to yours, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His hands softly carressing your waist and hips. You felt his breath upon your neck, his heart beating in yours, and you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudible.

As his arms wrapped around you, you felt a rush of warmth and comfort wash over you. His voice was low and gentle, and you could feel the love and intensity in every word.

You loved him more with each passing moment; each time he held you, each time he told you how much he loved you, and each time you felt his heart beating against yours.

"I love you, too, Simon," you whispered back, further relaxing into his embrace as you pecked his bicep that was hugging you close by your shoulders.

You could feel the love and intensity in every part of his body, from the warmth of his breath against your neck to the way his heart beat in time with yours. You knew that you would always be by his side, loving him and cherishing him for all eternity.

As you drifted back to sleep, his arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go and wishing to always be this close. You could feel the love in every part of his body, and you knew that this was the love that could never be broken.

Simon pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, his breath warm and soothing against your skin, and you felt a pang of love and comfort wash over you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go even for a moment, and he held you against him, feeling your heartbeat against his chest.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered, his voice low and filled with all the love he felt for you as he cuddled you close.

"G'night..." you sighed dreamily and closed your eyes.

As you drifted off to sleep, with your head resting against his chest, Simon couldn't help the rush of affection for you. He knew that you were the love of his life, that he would do anything for you, and that he couldn't imagine a future without you by his side.

Holding you close to him, he felt your heart beating slowly and regularly against his chest, and he felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. Every fiber of his being told him that he loved you, that you were everything he had ever wanted in life, and that he would always be there to protect you, to love you, and to cherish you.

He whispers your name softly, almost inaudible, as he drifted off to sleep, holding you tightly in his embrace. The love and intensity in his voice, in his touch, and in his eyes, was overwhelming, and he knew that you felt it too.

navi / masterlist !

[scealaiscoite]

reasons for there to be only one bed ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

¹⁾ they’re undercover as a married couple, and as such need to act like one

²⁾ there’s technically two beds available, but it’s freezing cold and everybody knows body heat works best

³⁾ it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag

⁴⁾ a character goes to their friend’s house after an emotional upheaval in search of comfort, and ends up staying the night - but refuses to kick the homeowner out of their own bed, resulting in the two of them sharing it

⁵⁾ in a roommate scenario, one character’s bedroom has been rendered unusable - and with the couch being unsustainable in the long run, they proffer sharing the one remaining bed as a solution

⁶⁾ there are two beds, but only one blanket

⁷⁾ a character’s taken ill, and the other party worries too much to leave them alone for even a minute

⁸⁾ in a fit of anger after a mission gone wrong, both characters sleep in the only available bed because no one was chivalrous to offer to take the floor

⁹⁾ a character’s had a nightmare, and needs company to feel safe enough to go back to sleep

¹⁰⁾ the weather takes a tumultuous turn, meaning a late night hangout has to turn into a sleepover when a character gets stranded there for the night

¹¹⁾ it’s a late night at work and when they both grow too tired to continue on, the only option is the lone office couch

¹²⁾ a threat’s been made against one/all character(s) involved, and so under the guise of safety in numbers it’s deemed safest if they stay together - everywhere

¹³⁾ one character joins the other for a late-night conversation, and ends up getting comfortable in their bed next to them - evidently too comfortable, as the char in bed falls asleep on the visitor and effectively traps them there

¹⁴⁾ there’s no bed in the shoddy refuge they’ve found after things went sideways, so when it comes time to sleep the only real choice is to stay close together

and, of course,

¹⁵⁾ it’s the last room available at the hotel after a long trip

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand Part 7

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Pregnant! Reader

Warnings: Medical drama, Fluff,

A/N: Hi loves, sorry for taking so long, i just moved into a new house and its been a lot. And honestly my mental health is trash. This part was also really hard to write for me because I had this happen to me. And i didnt realize how triggering it would be to write about it but the best way to get through the trauma is to write about it, right? maybe? no? well, anyways sorry if it sucks. i'll do better next time.

Word count: 1833...

New to the series? Catch up here: Part 6,

Your head pounded as you laid across the soft couch, each throb timed perfectly with the beating of your heart. There was no cuteness in pregnancy, not in your eyes at least. The glow that most women talked about was nothing more than a sheen of sweat that collected on your brow from your every move. There was a tiny human playing soccer with your organs, your ribcage the goal. They kicked wildly at the space below your ribs, the feeling enough to make you want to throw up. 

The past few days had been rough, you had a headache from hell and you just felt drained. Simon was concerned but you had chalked it up to the lingering cold you had going on. But now as you lay on the couch your stomach rolling with each passing moment you aren't so sure. Simon was on base today, having to complete some paperwork. He had woken you this morning, his lips peppering your face with soft kisses. 

He had tried to stay home but you had insisted he go, that you would be fine you would call if you needed him. Since he had left a few hours ago he had called you a few times, and you had reassured him each time that you were okay, you were just going to rest on the couch until he got home. You weren’t sure how long had passed since Simon had last called, but you had started to gradually feel worse. You push yourself up onto your elbows, and the world begins to spin around you. A wave of dizziness, crashing into you, as you blindly reach for your phone. 

You swallow trying to will yourself not to throw up. It takes you a few moments to find Simon's name in the phone, and putting it on speaker. It rings longer than normal but right before it goes to voicemail his panicked voice answers. “Hello? Y/n? What's wrong?”

“Simon… I… I don't feel good,” your voice shakes as you struggle to keep the phone in your hand. 

“Bloody hell, It’s alright Love, stay on the phone with me, i’m on my way,” there’s shuffling and the sound of boots hitting the floor in the background. “You’ll be okay, what's going on?”

“I have a headache… I'm nauseous, and I just don't feel good at all, I think something is really wrong,” you mumble, swaying slightly as you sit on the couch. 

“Okay, Love, do you have any swelling in your hands or feet?” The sound of Simon's truck revving filters through the phone. 

“Yeah a little,” You lean forward to the best of your ability and press on the top of your foot watching as your finger makes a light indent in the skin.

“Fuck..” Simon curses under his breath, “Love, go put your coat on, I’ll be there in a moment. Okay? We’re gonna go to the hospital.” 

“Simon?” you whisper, your voice shaking as you push yourself to stand, bracing yourself on the couch.

“Yeah love?”

“I’m scared…” you whisper, squeezing your eyes closed as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. 

“I know, I'm pulling up now okay, I'm gonna hang up okay? I just parked the truck, I'm coming to get you.” Simon's voice cuts off as the line goes dead. You shuffle over to the coat rack and start to pull on your coat. Hot tears roll down your cheeks as you hold the coat closed around your stomach. A sharp pain under your ribs causing you to gasp, and brace your hands on the kitchen counter. 

The sound of heavy boots stops outside the door as Simon pushes into the apartment. He’s still wearing all his gear, his tight black t-shirt, his cargo pants and skull mask on. His brown eyes are full of concern as he walks towards you, his large hands resting on your hips. 

“C’mon Love lets get you checked out,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. Simon’s arms carefully pull you into him, resting your back against his chest as he guides you from the apartment and down to the car. Your mind feels cloudy and far away as Simon secures you into the truck. His hands brushing along your stomach as he fastens your seatbelt. You close your eyes focusing on the revving of the engine as Simon weaves the large black truck in and out of traffic. It was only moments later that it came to a screeching halt outside the A&E doors. He barely had the truck in park before he was jumping out and scooping you up in his arms. He cradles you against his chest as he bursts through the sliding glass doors.

“I need some help!” his voice is loud against your ear. The vibrations of it through his chest causing you to groan in pain. Each movement felt like it was sucking the soul out of you. Every breath hurt and you just wanted to sleep, but soon there were nurses and doctors swarming you. Each of them throws questions towards you, only to have Simon reply for you. 

“How far along is she?” a doctor asks as she shines a bright light in your eyes. 

“28 Weeks,” Simon's voice is laced with panic.

“Okay, let's get her up to Labor and Delivery people let's go! Someone call the NICU unit!” the on-call emergency room doctor calls out. It was like a swarm of bees, suddenly everyone was doing something. Someone was poking your arm with an IV while another was taking your blood pressure. You weren't sure whose hands belonged to who or what was going on. But after a few moments there was too much going on for your brain to process, and you passed out.

~~~~~

The beeping of the monitors was oddly familiar to you, like when you woke up after being caught in the stairwell after the apartment building you were living in caught fire. But this time there was an icy chill that ran down your spine when you heard it. The memories of what happened come flooding back.

Calling Simon, him rushing home, being rushed to A&E, the doctors concerned voice. The overwhelming sense of panic, and then nothing. You slowly pry our eyes open, fighting against the heaviness. The first thing you see is Simon's blonde hair, the wild strands sticking up at odd angles as it rests against the light blue hospital blanket. Your hand is trapped under his head. His cheek pressed firmly into the back of it. You wiggle your fingers slightly and he stirs. His head lifting, brown eyes blinking slowly as he came around. 

“Y/N?” He asks softly, his eyes meeting yours.

“Hi,” you croak softly, your throat dry and a little sore. 

“Oh god, baby, you scared me so much,” Simon whispers, his hands coming to cup your cheeks. He was still wearing his gear, minus his mask and vest, his black shirt slightly wrinkled. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your right hand moving reflexively to rest on your stomach. You pause, eyes widening as the once firm bump is now squishy and numb. The world seems to stop spinning, time slowing. Your heart wants to stop beating in your chest but it won't listen. 

 “N-No.” Your voice cracks, eyes welling with tears and a look of confusion crosses Simon's face before he looks at your right hand. 

“Oh! No, love, shhh stop it’s okay. The baby is okay.” He rushes out, grabbing your left hand in his. His face is full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you slightly relax. After a moment you let out a shaky breath.

“What happened?” You whisper, looking up at him, his hand still clutched tightly around yours.

“You had PreEclampsia, but a severe case of it called HELLP syndrome. I’m not entirely sure what it means but they said the only way to save your life was to deliver the baby. So they performed an emergency C-Section and had to give you a blood transfusion. The baby is okay, they’re in the NICU. I haven't been able to see them yet, but a nurse came about an hour ago and said that they were fighting like crazy and we should be able to see them soon.” He explains, his brown eyes welling with tears. 

His voice is rough and strained, “I thought I was gonna lose you both.”

Hot tears well in your eyes as he admits his fear. A man as big and strong as Simon looked so small at that moment. He looked like a lost child who couldn't find home. The brave soldier who willingly ran into warzones and fought people with his bare hands had never looked so helpless. It was in this rare moment that you got to see the person behind the hardened soldier. The man who truly thought he was going to lose the person he cared about, and his child. Your heart ached for him, you wished you could take the worry and pain he had felt away but you couldn't. 

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, he must've been so scared, felt so hopeless. He was usually able to control some aspect of the situations he was in. He could fight his way out of the worst scenarios, he could plan an escape, and he was always prepared for things if they went south. But he wasn't able to fix you, he had been completely helpless as Doctors worked to save not only your life but that of his unborn child. 

“Oh baby, don't cry,” Simon's thumb strokes the skin under your cheek as he wipes away your tears. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper, voice tight.

“It's not your fault, i’m just glad you're both okay.” He whispers, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your cheek.

“Tell me about the baby,” you blink away the rest of the tears, taking a steadying breath.

“It’s a girl, she weighs 1lb 2oz, and she's so small i don't even think she’d fill my entire palm. They aren't sure entirely what her future looks like, but the nurse that came in to check on you said she was a fighter, and she felt really good about her outcome.” He smiles, his brown eyes filled with pride as he talks about his daughter.

A daughter.

You had a daughter now.

The thought alone was crazy to you, you had been so sure the entire time it was a boy. You had a gut feeling but you were wrong, and you weren’t unhappy about it. You didn't care either way, the only thing you cared about was that they were okay.  That they would pull through everything and you would get to bring them home eventually. 

There's a soft knock on the door and a nurse with red hair pokes her head in. 

“Hi, do you two wanna go meet your daughter?”

Next Part: Part 8

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18, @itsmytimetoodream @humanities-cutest @ajrfanz @jggykhug09090 @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @ashreblogsnow

[milf-murdock]

Since Simon naturally wakes up before you—goddamn military schedule down right engrained in his bones at this point—he’ll gently untangle himself from you while you sleep soundly to sneak away to the kitchen and make you both a cuppa.

Brings you tea in bed every morning so you can enjoy it whilst snuggled up to him, waking up slowly and enjoying a quiet moment together before the day starts.

[angelatsumu]

bedtime with olderboyfriend!simon <3

thinking of older!boyfriend!simon who says “lights off” before turning off your nightstand and leaving you to scroll endlessly on your phone in the dark. he thinks it’s an indicator that you should be going to bed, but once he’s rolled over he can still hear the incessant tapping of your fingernails scrolling through each video and image on your feed. he clears his throat, hoping you’d get the hint. when he hears the clatter of nails again, he grunts at you. “phones off too, pup. y’know damn well it’s jus’ gonna ruin your sleep,” he huffs matter-of-factly, and you whine a little protest before conceding. you place your phone down next to your lover’s and curl up under the covers beside him.

[naivegh0ul]

ok but imagine how ghost would react to u stealing his hoodie.

It'd be way too big on you, of course. Simon Riley is a mammoth of a man: 6'4" and over 250lbs, so his hoodie looks massive on you. The sleeves flop around when you move, the hood falling over your eyes when you pull it up.

And Ghost would wonder where one of his hoodies went, searching the apartment for it, but then he'd see you, curled up on the couch with your knees tucked close to your chest and the hoodie hooked over your legs, covering you completely.

He'd think you look so cute, just an adorable ball of love wearing his hoodie. He'd sneak up behind you and lean over the back of the couch, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Stealin' my jumpers from me?" He'd say playfully, shoving his hands in the pocket at the front, his large hands engulfing yours. "Looks nice."

And then you'd feel him remove his hands and hook them under your arms, hoisting you off the sofa in one smooth motion. He'd spin you around and set you on the back of the couch, lifting the hood of his hoodie away from your face and he'd press his lips to yours, kissing you softly.

"What'd I do to deserve you?" He'd whisper against your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. Then he'd pull away and nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling the perfect mix of your scent mixed with his. "Keep the hoodie. You look better in it."

[rowarn]

WAIT NO !!!! LISTEN!!!!!!! LISTEN TO ME !!!!!

simon who is really really big on emotional aftercare. he could fuck you like he hates you and whisper the most vile shit in your ear about how ur his cumdump but then turns around the second the highs have worn off and he's cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing u so softly and telling u how sweet and pretty you are and how precious u are to him!!!

he thinks the most important thing isn't cleaning all the cum off each other but holding you close and talking u down from the chemical soup that's mixed in your brain. simon has awful mental health and he'll be damned if u end up stewing in anything negative caused from your intimate time together ):

but ALSO CONSIDER simon, who never really considered aftercare for himself, always just assumed he'd be the one giving it. he doesn't really understand why he would need it bc he's not the one being pounded into the mattress and manhandled like he has no other purpose than to be a toy for a nice, fat cock.

but then you turn the tables and he realizes how nice it feels to just.....talk.......and let himself calm down and level out after sex. he doesn't always let his guard down enough to really sink into receiving the aftercare (he'll always be most concerned about you and doesn't know how to compromise there!!) but when he does it's the best damn sleep he ever gets <3

[marzylics]

Going to a bar with Simon "if you dare say anything about my girl ill fucking kill you" Riley is always a fun experience.

He has his arm wrapped around you almost the entire time until you told him your going to get some more drinks add he lets you go. As your waiting for your drinks a guy walks up to you "hey gorgeous" he smiled "what a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" he asked

You try to make as much distance as possible between you and the guy. "im not alone" you say

"Are you sure" he says filling the gap between you two "im really good company" he say getting to close for comfort

You turn your head around to look for Simon not seeing him anywhere makes you nervous. Until you feel his familiar arm around you waist "she said she isn't alone" he said to the guy. Simon nearly doubled him height "get lost" Simon spat

The man quickly ran away from you and him leaving the bar. "Are you ok" Simon asks you

"Im fine" you replied to him

He wraps his arms around you pulling you into a tight hug "im so sorry" he says "I shouldn't have left you" he said kissing the top of your head

"its not your fault si" you say reassuring him

"You wanna leave now" he asks you

"Yeah" you answer "thank you si"