Simon muttering "what have you done to me?" when he realizes he’s in love with you.

Maybe it's the first time he catches himself draping a blanket over your form after you accidentally fall asleep on his lap.

Maybe it’s the first time he finds himself hurrying home after a mission because he just can’t wait to see your face.

Or maybe it’s the first time he catches himself eyeing a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the shops. “Ten fucking quid for flowers? Are they mental?” He sets them down with a huff and walks away to finish his shopping…only to begrudgingly grab them anyways on his way to the till.

He knows they will make you smile—that bright beautiful smile you seem to reserve just for him.

And as he sets the soft pink bundle on the checkout counter he can’t help but mutter aloud, “what have you done to me?”

Cod boys and how they come home.

Captain John Price I can see this man having one of his last phone calls with and in code telling the rough timeline of him and his boys coming home. When he does finally step off that chopper and onto that British Soil, I can see that man running to you full speed as he wraps his arms around, damn near toppling the pair of you over. “Hello, my love,” he would whisper as he buried his face into you, just taking in your smell, that thing he wished he could bottle up and take with him on missions, not that he didn’t already have his matching ring. He just wanted that scent to linger longer than it did while he was on missions. Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick Now, Kyle? I see him as the type to just rock up to your flat looking like a little lost puppy, his big brown eyes and the fake petty lip when you swing the door open to him before pouncing on you like a lion when you welcome him into your arms. This man’s mouth would not stop running like he would constantly utter words of praise, like “I adore you” and “You are my everything.” It would be like this man is layering it on thick, hoping you don’t let him go any time yet. Why would you? He was the best damn teddy there ever could be. Alejandro Vargas Now, sweet talker over here? He wouldn’t immediately just go straight home. No, oh nononono, this man would stop off and get you flowers, your favourite drink, food, you name it, like this man is acting like YOU had left on a mission and had finally returned, not him, and when he had unlocked the door to his little house. He would drop everything onto the coffee table just long enough for him to launch himself at you, pinning you to the couch and peppering kisses all over, “Necesito que me des Vida”, he would whisper as he pressed more and more kisses to your jaw. And why wouldn’t you give him life? You did every day. Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish See Johnny here. This man is a fiend when he comes home, like he is everywhere, all over you. Despite being the smallest out of the group, he makes up for it with his ability to find a way under your clothes. To the point, you are a giggly mess, and to where you are shirtless and locked in a cupboard somewhere, pressed against the door, trying to steal all of your oxygen, only breaking apart to whisper things like “Please let me in no-one will notice” or “five more minutes, just five I went months without you.” And who could you deny him? He had fought in your honour, in your name… well, his really. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Now, Si? This big oaf would have waited hours before rushing home. He would have filled out the paperwork he needed to, making sure it got to the right people, even if that meant hand delivery. This man would have spent so much time at the base that you would think you must have had the dates wrong or that the worst must have happened while you sat on the couch and waited for him to walk through the door. And when he finally did come home, you would wrap him into your arms pulling him into you, “Sor’ove, had shit to finish” he would mutter before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you tight into him. What are a few hours of waiting when he has the next two weeks off?

Taglist: @cringeycookies (If you wanna be in my Taglist: Here) Remember: leaving a like, re-blogging, and commenting helps in this world and encourages more. See you around, my little loves. Kissess.

Simon " Ghost " Riley x Fem!Reader

CW's : none

- - -

" Simon Riley. "

The way his body tensed just the slightest bit at your words, the way his eyebrows furrowed in an almost unnoticeable manner, both of those actions spoke for themselves.

He knew he was in trouble whenever his little wife would talk to him in such a manner, mentioning his full name instead of some silly pet name.

While he was still comfortably sitting on the couch, his gaze slowly went in your direction.

You were standing there, both hands on your hips and your upper body slightly bended forward. A pose that would indicate that you were about to scold him indeed.

But he couldn't understand why. What did he do wrong? He couldn't recall anything.

" Yes, Mrs Riley? "

Your husband replied.

He was quick to cover up that he did tensed a bit just a moment ago. Instead there was now just a soft yet smug little grin on his lips.

While you just looked as if you were about to throw a tantrum.

" Where's my kiss? "

You hissed out. Almost as if you were genuinely pissed that you didn't get a kiss as soon as you got back from work.

Both of you knew though that it wasn't such a serious matter.

" C'mere. "

Was the only answer you got from your husband.

Yet you didn't miss the way his grin just widened more.

And the way he patted his lap, signaling you to take a seat, only reserved for you.

nibble (photo ref here!!)

It’s giving simon riley

Lieutenant Price who can’t keep his eyes off of you at the bar, cheeks red with heat and want that he can’t even begin to tame

Lieutenant Price who takes an extra shot of rum before shooting his shot

“This seat taken?”

“Depends,” you reply, looking over the clean-shaven man who stands before you, “You buying?”

Lieutenant Price who wrings his hands behind his back as he confidently asks you out, right up until you say ‘yes’

Lieutenant Price who tries his best to be a gentleman when he gets between the sheets.

Lieutenant Price who groans and grunts as he feeds his cock into your cunt, trying with every ounce of his will not to shove himself in up to the hilt before you’re stretched and ready

“Mm—god, darling,” he manages, shaking with the force it takes to hold himself back, “You’re so tight…god, I can fuckin’ see myself in your stomach…”

…

Captain Price who isn’t afraid to let his eyes linger on you when he takes u to the bar with his boys—likes it when you know that he’s always watching, that he’s always hungry

Captain Price who buys you an extra shot of rum before pulling you into his lap in the middle of the bar, feeding it to you while he blows cigar smoke out the side of his mouth

“C’mon, darling,” he drawls, “Drinks on me. Another one won’t hurt.”

Captain Price who brazenly slips his hands under the waistband of your pants right then and there, rasping a slow invitation back to his place while he pushes his fingers in and out of your slick folds

Captain Price who’s so far gone he can’t act like a gentleman anymore

Captain Price who hustles you into the bar’s bathroom and hastily locks the door, before he all but rips his belt out of his belt loops

Captain Price who holds you down against the bathroom countertop. He bullies his aching dick into your swollen pussy, yanking you by the hair just to keep you in place underneath him

“Sit still, love,” he spanks you, grabbing a harsh handful of your ass right after, “Behave, and I might just let you lick me clean when this is all over.”

All this Simon reading got me thinking about how instead of waiting for him to come home the role reversed and he’s now waiting for you to come home. Let’s say you went gonna work trip and had been gone a month away. He didn’t think much of it except that he ended up coming back 2 weeks earlier and now he’s here waiting for you. He goes to the airport to pick you up and it feels weird. He’s not used to being on this side of it. He’s pacing around, checking the times your plane lands, he’s fidgeting with his jacket.

By the time your plane lands, the fidgeting has gone from messing with his jacket to overthinking why he’s here in the first place. What possessed him to come pick you up? He’s surprising you.

But then, as soon as he sees you coming out of the gate, your eyes darting around to make a path towards your luggage, he calms down. He stands a little taller to make himself noticeable, and it works because your eyes dart straight to him. He’s so recognizable— leather jacket, mask over his face, gloved hands. Your smile creeps up over your face, and you can feel your face heat up and flood your face.

But seeing your smile and how there’s more of a pep in your step, you sort of jog to him the last final steps, then awkwardly stand there because you’re unsure of either hugging him or tackling him. Makes him blush underneath the mask and he’s now flustered, heart racing, and he bends down into your neck burying himself there, as you giggle about ‘why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!’ And he just mumbles ‘just thought I would surprise ya’

Professor Ghost (x oc)

tea n a snuggle

simon riley x gn!reader

a/n: unedited n probably horrible, but my head is loud and thinking about si helps so enjoy :) also pardon my absence im a full time student so I haven’t had much down time but the series is still going!! just on pause

____________________________________________

just thinking about having a snuggle with si after a long day. both too tired to have proper conversations, silently working around each other and making due. just hovering around in the kitchen while waiting for the kettle to boil, si standing behind you with his head resting on yours stubble scratching against your scalp while his hands run aimlessly up and down your arms

sleepily grabbing the mugs, making sure he gets your favourite one and the special one you got him- it’a got a little ghost on it. it was meant to be a gag gift but he kept it near and dear to his heart.

pops a teabag in each and sets about finding something to go with them, grumbling about needing a biscuit to which you stifle a snort. eventually he finds them, taking the whole sleeve “can’t be bothered to get a dish, finish them off anyhow” he huffs, pressing a delicate kiss to your shoulder

you settle back in your room, wrapped together under the sheets with your tea in hand and a soft playlist playing in the background to fill the silence.

you take turns wordlessly holding a cookie up for the other until the sleeve and your teas are gone. settling back into the warm linen sheets, burrowed deep into his embrace pressing kisses along his chest in thanks.

he strokes along your back pressing three kisses to the crown of your head- i love you

you end up falling asleep to the soft piano coming from the tv, wrapped up in the arms of your lover content with your heart and tummy full. the perfect remedy to a much needed break

i spend my days waiting. waiting for the water to boil and my tea to be ready. for spring to come back. for more daylight. the oil in the pan to heat up. a “hey i miss you” or “can you help me out for a second?” or “you want to hang out?” text. for my phone to finish charging. for good news. flowers on the table. the next hug. “hey, you got the job!”. waiting for the sun. to set. to rise. to see both. for summer to be around the corner. a good song. a falling star. a text back. i spend my time waiting to be remembered. i spend my time repeating that tomorrow will be better. tomorrow will be better. i spend my days waiting and waiting and waiting. i spend my days waiting unbearably.

Simon Riley’s love is a terrible devotion. Hell maybe even a curse for just how much he loves. He loves with his whole self no matter the pain, you’re burrowed into his chest whether you want to be there or not and he will sew himself up so you can never leave him

Simon Riley knows pain like no other, knows what’s it’s like to take it and give it, and he etched himself into the very being of your life, inescapable, ever present, unending

This man is the threat of love. He will take care of you even when you don’t need it, you don’t want it, and he does so with all that he is, looming over you like the inevitable guillotine. He will love you but he will not do it delicately—if he could swallow you whole, lock you away, take all that you are into him than he would if it meant that you would be forever safe, forever his

His to love, his to adore, his to never leave

Simon riley loves with every bit of his being, even the parts that are broken and fractured and dusty and still buried and he does so like a stray dog that will follow you to the ends of the earth

Johnny on a bulk…lord help me.

You’re always over the moon when Johnny returns from deployment, jumps into your arms and nearly tackles you to the floor with the sheer amount of force. From your face to your body, his hands travel everywhere they can in a bid to re-memorize you.

A lot of things change in his line of work, but it’s always a relief when he finds you haven’t changed.

“Missed ye love,” he says, not giving a damn if he’s currently in the middle of the airport. “Missed ye so fuckin’ much.”

However, your favorite moment is what comes after, when the aches and woes of battle slide off your boyfriend months later and what’s left is a much softer side of Johnny—both literally and figuratively. Not forced to train all day, being able to eat real meals without wondering when the next time he’ll be able to do so, it’s a luxury he’s afforded every time he returns back to your shared home.

Of course he still has his morning run and he still goes to the gym once a week, but the difference between active duty and off-duty is night and day, a difference you revel in as you rest yourself on his soft body.

“Wish you’d stay forever,” you mumble into his chest, pliant in his arms. Johnny laughs at the state of you, completely boneless as you squeeze at the soft fat of his belly.

“Yer only sayin’ that cause I make a good pillow.”

A nod. “Yeah, you do.”

You feel his laughter move through him in waves, hugging you tighter.

this is purely self indulgent but you and simon riley have season memberships to the local theatre.

each month, the two of you dress up a little, get a dinner reservation, have a little wine, and spend the rest of the evening at the theatre.

you wouldn’t trade these cozy little weeknights for the world.

you loved the smell of the old place and the way simon would link his arm with yours, guiding you to your seats.

the two of you had favorite seats of course, you never sat anywhere else. you loved the red, velvet smoothness of the upholstery. you also loved how simon barely fit between the armrests.

you loved the car rides home where you get a glimpse of just how enthusiastic he’d become about live performances.

you definitely loved when you’d both stumble into your shared apartment, still a little warm from all the wine you had at dinner, hands freely roaming over the expanse of simon’s chest.

he’d picked out a black turtleneck to wear that night, and it had you squirming in your seat beside him all night.

you smiled into his kiss, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little bit.

“what’s funny?” he asked, a little out of breath.

“nothing. just love you.”

you stared up at him like he hung the fucking moon and stars in the sky.

simon with a reader who is ill but tries to deny it. you woken up with a sneeze and a cough. shit. you still had training and you were the best solider on the force, of course you weren’t missing it.

as you get to the training course, with a a lot of sniffles and sneezing you stand in front of your lieutenant. he could tell straight away, your eyes glassy from sneezing, a red nose; looking like rudolf.

‘sergeant go back to bed,’ he says and your mouth parts.

‘why? i’m totally fine! i’m healthy,’ you reassure him as he stares at you blankly.

‘go to bed,’ was all he said, you let out a grunt of frustration as you head back to your barracks. getting into your bed, pulling the duvet above your ears.

ghost had set off the others to work before coming back to your bed, he had a cuppa in one hand and a pack of tissues in the other. it wasn’t much but it was an act of kindness.

he placed the cuppa in your hands as you took sips of that familiar yorkshire tea, with atleast four sugars. ‘get some rest,’ he tells you. ‘and don’t go sneezing on my other recruits, I can’t haven’t anymore off.’ the bug had been going around base causing everyone to fall ill.

‘got it,’ you murmur your voice low, feeling exhausted already, he took the cuppa from your hands and placed it on the floor next to your bed as you lay back down.

he sat on the edge of your bed for a moment taking in your appearance, you had always been this tough warrior even he had look up to, and now you were nestled in your bed, with rosy cheeks and a half hoarse voice. it was a change, a good one. his perspective on you was always changing and that was what he had been growing to love about you. you were everything he wasn’t even when ill.

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.