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honestlyhiswife · 3 hours

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Love Language

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Summary: Simon's oblivious and you just go along with it.

“What’s a love language?”

You frown, looking away from the near-finished deck on your laptop screen and to Simon, whose eyes are on the TV straight ahead. “What?”

“Someone mentioned it at work, seemed like a serious topic. No idea what they were on about.”

“They mentioned it to you?”

“No, I overheard.”

You close your laptop slightly. “It’s how you like to receive love. You can take a quiz to figure it out but it’s basically like getting presents or spending quality time together or verbal cues.”

“Did you take the quiz?” He quirks an eyebrow, looking at you now.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“And?”

“Mine is acts of service. S’why I was all over you last week when you did the groceries and laundry and made me a coffee without asking.”

“Tha’s why?”

“Yep.”

He frowns and looks back at the football game. “Should I take the quiz?”

“You can, but you don’t have to. Yours is pretty obvious.”

“What is it?”

“Physical touch.”

He tuts and shakes his head. “No it’s not.”

“Sure it is!” You laugh.

“I hate touching, s’not my love language. Mine’s like, food.”

“Okay, food is not a love language,” you set your laptop down on the coffee table, revealing your position on the couch. Simon’s facing the TV and you’re sitting sideways with your legs draped over his lap—a position he often maneuvers you into. Even now as he denies his love for physical touch and affection he’s playing with the hem of your sock with one hand and is feeling the smooth, freshly-shaven skin of your leg with the other.

He stares at your expectant expression. “What?”

You gesture to the two of you.

He shrugs and his face turns more confused. “What?”

You shake your head and grab your laptop again. “Oblivious.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day you’re walking together through the park by your building, needing some fresh air. You’re hand in hand until you notice a bunny further up the path and you remove your hand from Simon’s to point it out excitedly.

With no hesitation, Simon grabs your arm and lowers your hands so they’re back where they were before—between you and interlocked. He continues walking like nothing just happened—albeit with a slightly tighter grip on your fingers—but you smirk at the side of his face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The movie’s only just started, but Simon’s already asleep on top of you. His head is resting against your stomach and your legs are tangled together. You continue to watch the action as your fingertips absentmindedly scratch at his scalp. Eventually you stop, opting instead to clasp your hands behind Simon’s back. He groans and you look down at him. He doesn’t move, but he groans again.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

He grabs your elbow to lazily direct your hand back to his head. You smother your knowing smile and resume scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair until the movie’s over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your grip is tight around the spindles of your headboard and your head is thrown back as Simon thrusts into you, until he pauses to unwrap your fingers from the wood and encourage you to wrap your arms around his neck instead. He does the same with your legs and his waist before carrying on.

You gently bite his earlobe with a smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Time for the shoe swap.”

You made it all night in your heels, but you won’t make the walk home. And that’s exactly why you brought a big purse to stuff your flats in for the inevitable. You dig your hand into your bag, depending on the streetlights to aid you in finding your shoes amongst the rest of your junk that you should really clean out of there. You feel them and are about to pull them out when Simon couches in front of you, facing away.

“What are you doing?”

“Get on,” he says from over his shoulder. “Acts of service, right?”

You smirk and nod like you fully agree. “Right. Acts of service.”

You hop onto his back and he adjusts you so your ankles are locked and your cheek is pressed up against his. “Good?”

You giggle and kiss his temple. “Good.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Sorry I’m late!” You huff as you rush into your office. “I uh…” was forced to make out for 20 minutes on my way out of the apartment and missed two trains because my boyfriend moped about having to be home alone on his day off. “I left my laptop and had to turn around.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Simon comes home exhausted, complaining about a group of young soldiers thinking they’re too good to take orders and clean up around base. You tilt your head in sympathy and grab his face to rub your thumbs on his flushed cheeks.

He snatches you up and runs you into your room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I think it’s words,” he says one morning while he’s got himself wrapped around you in bed. You can barely breathe. “My love language.”

You roll your eyes and shove his hulking body off of you to reach over to your nightstand for your phone, pulling up the quiz and shoving it into his hands. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

#THIS IS SO CUTE #(i sobbed internally)#(where is my bf)

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honestlyhiswife · 16 hours

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The Things I Never Said

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨

A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄

Masterlist✨| Part 2

You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.

This can't be happening. Not to you.

It's not that you didn't want to have kids.

But Simon didn't.

At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.

Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.

Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.

You love him.

He cares for you.

But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.

Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.

Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.

And you fell hard.

Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.

You didn't get any sleep last night.

Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.

You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.

When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.

It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.

"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."

You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.

Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.

This whole situation has you sensitive.

You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants

Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.

"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

You give him a small smile and a nod.

"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"

Gaz chuckles.

"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."

"Oh." You say.

Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.

A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.

"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.

You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.

I wish. You want to say.

But nothing will ever be okay after last night.

"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."

Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.

Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.

Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.

You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.

Get a fucking grip!

Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.

You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.

It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.

In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.

"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.

"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.

"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.

"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.

"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."

You don't.

And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.

Just not right now.

The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.

It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.

But you're scared of the outcome.

By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.

Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...

Holy shit. You think.

The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.

"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.

"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."

"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."

"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.

Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?

That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?

"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.

Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.

Promises.

Things you never thought you'd hear.

#im about to start my period #and oh my god #this makes me want to punch a pillow then cry into it #this is so good

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