ghostswoman

[ghostswoman]

choking with simon riley. ၄၃

tw/cw; rough dom!simon, afab!f!reader, slapping. MDNI 18

; fucking up on simon's mission and punished.

Simon's large, gloved hand tightened around your throat, with you pinned against the wall and shoved into his barracks for a lesson. You'd fucked up. Big time. And Simon wasn't interested in your shitty excuses. The mission has been planned and calculated perfectly, and of course, you had to ruin it.

“Look at me, Private. Do as you're told.” Simon hissed out hoarsely, his fingers wrapped around your nape. He pressed his forehead against yours and grinded his teeth together angrily, forcing you to look him in the eye. You looked ashamed and guilty, but there is no room for mistakes in the frontline. “Bend over, show me that ass.”

You comply, hoping to not anger Simon more than you already have. He grumbles out gutturally. You hear the sound of his belt being unfastening and his fly unzipped, smacking the tip of his bulbous tip against your drooling cunt. You're shaking pathetically as if you're innocent. Simon discards off his gloves and snacks your fear violently, your ass throbbing at the sensation burning through you. You yelp out loudly, face forced into his pillow as he begins to rut inside.

He doesn't offer lube, not even spit. You'll take him raw for all you've done, got it?

He rocks his well-built hips back and forth while filling your slick pussy with his hung, large cock. You cry and moan out loudly, your sounds muffled by the pillow. His heavy, musky balls rut against your rear as he rams into you, ploughing into the softness of your folds while cursing you out underneath his breath.

“So fuckin’ stupid. Don’t you think, at all? Because it surely doesn’t seem so, slag. Use your brain for somethin’, Christ” he spits out, his pace faltering and coming to a stop before you're flipped into your back and presented to Simon who has no plans to show you any mercy or forgiveness.

He eases right back inside of your comforting, familiar and velvety walls and begins to thrust deep inside, until he's hitting your cervix and leaving tears in your waterline. His hand chokes you and restricts your breathing, knocked from your lungs with his pace becoming crueler and meaner as he continues reaching for his orgasm.

You'll be filled, spanked, slapped, and choked until you've learned your lesson, Brat.

[ghostswoman]

Also… your post about ani loving back scratches omg.. you think he’s into like reader playing with his hair too?? His curls, and even when he had short hair like wow I just know that man has the softest hair ever

happy may the 4th! send me star wars requests/headcanons and we'll have a party <3

i pictured this as tcw!anakin's hair because it was like the cutest little baby mullet/shag where it was growing and curling against the nape of his neck and i wanted to scrunch it with my fingers so bad <333

--

"Keep going."

"Hold on, hold on," You mutter, "My friend's texting me."

Anakin releases a displeased grunt into the fabric of your shirt, and you feel it where it lands warm in your lap.

"Easy," You tap away at the screen of your datapad, pecking letter by letter at what is shaping up to be a lengthy paragraph, "I thought they taught patience at the temple, Jedi Knight. I'll go back to playing with your hair as soon as I'm done."

Anakin grunts again, louder this time.

You don't dignify his dramatics with a response, and you continue typing, the lingering warmth of Anakin's hair fading from your fingertips. He lets you get half of a sentence more in before you feel an invisible tug at your hand, and it relocates itself against Anakin's scalp instead of where you'd placed it on your pad.

"Anakin!" You scoff, "Did you just force my hand back into your hair?"

He lets out a muffled chuckle into your sleep shirt, "Force."

"You are absolutely insufferable," You grumble, but you indulge him with the scrape of your nails against his scalp. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he burrows his face further into your stomach.

"You sound like Obi-Wan," He muses, "I've heard insufferable, incorrigible, reckless, untamable, unmanageable-"

"Unshushable," You add, still making a valiant effort at typing one-handed rather than returning your second hand to its rightful place among Anakin's barely-curled scruff, "Do you ever stop talking?"

"You love the sound of my voice," He accuses, peering up at you with squinted, tired eyes, "That's why you make me read to you at night."

"No, I make you read to me at night because the last thing you read was a users' manual for a landspeeder, and you barely even skimmed that," You scratch against the crown of his head and he groans, "I worry about your literary habits."

"I worry about your hair-playing habits," He reaches out to knock your datapad out of your hand which he drags back into his hair, "Come on, baby, you owe me three books-worth of this."

[ghostswoman]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

[ghostswoman]

Pornstar!König's cock is a bitch breaker— that much you know by the way he's ramming every single inch of thick, veiny meat into your sopping cunt, his large hands digging on the supple skin of your waist in a bruising hold, his heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit every time he manages to bury himself all the way in.

His blue eyes are fully focused on the screen displaying your face, the rhythm of his thrusts only getting rougher to drag more whiny moans out of your parted lips, exhaustion written all over your face at having to take his large dick on what was supposed to be a day off— only accepting a job after thousands of comments bombarding your media, begging you to collaborate with König. Perverts, you knew, yet you're more than happy to play into their fantasies.

One of the cameras pans to your face, fully capturing the alluring scene of your fucked-out state, beads of sweat dripping down your warm forehead, half-lidded eyes barely managing to stay open despite the way they're threatening to roll back with each deep thrust, and that famous smile that shows you crave his treatment. A trademark of sorts, something that made you end on the front pages of popular porn websites more than once, the very same thing that caught König's attention months ago.

“Harder.” A command you instantly regret the moment his hips falter, his brow scrunched up in mild disbelief, yet what is the behemoth of a man if not a people pleaser? König lets out a muffled chuckle, his warm hand trailing up to your chest, lazily rubbing your sensitive, pierced nipple with his thumb.

“Harder?” He repeats, his hips moving at an agonizingly slow pace, a smirk pulling on the corners of his lips beneath the mask the moment a whiny moan of protest is dragged out of your lips.

“Fuck yourself with my dick.” You can hear your own heartbeat pulsating on your ear, the rate steadily rising at his command. His breath hitches the moment you impale yourself onto his throbbing cock right after his words, his calloused hand giving your tit one last squeeze before moving back down to your waist, his large fingers digging onto the crevice of your warm skin, admiring the thin layer of sweat covering your body, the way your ass jiggles every single time you move on his dick.

His eyes darken with desire, his hands almost itching with the growing need to fuck into you, something he manages to ignore for mere seconds before thrusting back into you the moment you pull away, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the way his bulbous head hits your sensitive cervix over and over, his wide hips slamming against yours, filling the room with a lewd melody of skin slapping against skin and combined moans desperate for release.

König doesn't hold back, his thrusts deep and powerful as your fingers grip the bedsheets, trying to find a way to release the overwhelming sensations. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, the sound of your whiny whimpers only serving to heighten his own arousal, shooting one of the cameras a look that drips pure arrogance— his movements becoming more urgent and demanding.

One of the screens displays the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as your walls tighten around his thick cock, a sense of satisfaction and pride filling him as you cum, only then allowing himself to succumb to his release, his cock throbbing inside you as ropes of hot white cum shoot right into your womb, a loud groan leaving his lips.

Despite how rough he likes to fuck, König pulls out of you, his softening cock coated with your slick and his own cum as your body falls on the bed, utterly exhausted. You can feel his large arms wrapping around you from behind, the sound of fabric rustling filling your ears as you feel his warm lips press a soft kiss to your temple, whispers of praise that have never come out of his lips slip out with so much easiness that it almost surprises him.

>Author's note: I opened commissions as I'm in need of an emergency dental surgery. Any likes, reblogs and shares on the post are greatly appreciated!! ;; 💗

[ghostswoman]

simon loves to see you wearing his shirts, as underneath there is nothing but a pair of comfortable panties in which you walk around the house, doing various chores and minding your own business, not noticing how he loops after you like a puppy.

the mere sight warms him from the inside, his brown eyes heats like black tea brewing in a mug as he watches you cook breakfast, the black fabric of his plain t shirt looks unbearably cozy and seductive on you, as simon's calloused hands leave the mug and reach out to touch you wherever they can, to put his hands under the fabric and stroke the naked flesh.

he's turning needy, obsessed with you in any way possible — constantly sticking to you and touching you, thin pale lips pressing into your jaw and neck with passionate, small kisses, hands stroking and kneading you everywhere they can, whether it's your plush asscheeks, rounded breasts or waist, as he presses against you from the back with all his heavy weight.

you allow him, loving his every touch, because it took him a long time to feel so relaxed next to you, and now he can't even afford to leave you anymore.

simon is always there, as close as possible to snuggle up to you or hold you, enjoying the warm touch of your hands on his body as well as his on yours, pressing you into his chest.

needless to say that the only thing of all the chores you managed to do was make breakfast for the two of you, and even that was with great zeal — because of the way simon groped you everytime and practically purred in your ear with pleasure, relishing in just simply being next to you.

and you can't refuse to simon when he looks at you with such tenderness in his still sleepy, warm brown eyes, because nothing terrible will happen if you take care of the rest of the chores a little later, right?

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[ghostswoman]

ugh thinking about pure lil reader whos always used her clit to b stimulated and gets scared and panics heavily when trying to finger herself so könig helps the poor thing and comforts her💔

choosing könig to be the first person whose fingers enter your tight, unused hole probably isn’t the best idea. like his cock, his fingers are thick and girthy, covered in callouses from his grueling work. he’ll help you fuck yourself, though, coaxing as many nerves out of you as possible beforehand. due to your lack of experience, it doesn’t take much to get you wet and needy for it, your hole clenching around nothing as he licks into your pliant mouth, hands groping the sensitive parts of your body. you’re desperate for a fullness you’ve never felt and he finds it adorable.

he knows you’re ready when you begin rocking into his clothed cock, trying to feel his hard boner against your messy cunt. he’ll guide your fingers like they’re his own, his tone soft and patient as he instructs you to start rubbing at your swollen clit. he’ll have you dip one finger inside yourself to start with, transfixed by the way your little cunt is drooling all over your thighs, slick pooling at your ass. you gasp at how easily it slips in this time, flustered as you do as könig says, slowly pumping in and out of yourself. he can barely tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows the digit, dying to feel how tight and hot you are inside. he’ll make you describe the sensations so he can live through you, his cock achingly hard. you curl your fingers per his request, getting frustrated when you can’t find your own g-spot. with watery eyes, you nearly give up, convinced that it would feel so much better if könig did it himself.

“this tiny pussy can barely fit one of your fingers, what makes you think you can take mine, mausi?”

with his help, it’s not long before you’re worked up to two fingers, hitting the sensitive spot at the front of your canal over and over, until your body erupts into fireworks. he’ll make you jerk him off in return, using your creamy stickiness as lube, but not until he tastes it for himself.

[ghostswoman]

ghost wearing his slutty little grey sweats around your shared flat, as he enjoys his off-duty down time with you while he still can. so you wake up to the sun kissing your face through the curtains in your bedroom and notice simon’s not there with you, then you sit up to hear him brewing his coffee in the kitchen. you rub your eyes sleepily as you pad over to him and you have to stop mid-yawn at the sight of him; big burly chest and arms exposed, his tattoos and scars painting the rest of his beautiful, sculpted form. your eyes can’t help but trail down his torso as he sips from his mug, and you lap in the sight of his low riding sweats hugging his v-line, his bulge very much apparent.

“like what’ye see, beau’iful?” he lowers the mug from his lips, his other hand tugging at the elastic band of his trousers, causing you to bite your lip with a shy smile before asking “gonna show me more, si?”

of course he takes you back to bed in the next second, more than eager to feel your naked body against his <333

[ghostswoman]

tw: suggestive

Price: Get in

Y/N: No

Price: Get in, doll.

Y/N: No!

Price: Now.

Y/N: Make m- *John quickly covered your mouth with his hand*

Price : Trust me, love. That’s a sentence you don’t want to finish.

[ghostswoman]

cw: dubcon if u squint, mean!simon, cum play?, teasing and punishment <3

sorry i haven't been posting proper works lately, i just haven't had any motivation in sitting down long term to write ): i hope u can understand <3 but here's something i cooked up a bit!!!

You, who just had to get on his nerves. You just had to mouth off at him every chance you got. His patience was a thin thread and you were snipping at it around every turn.

He’d been gone for so long, he was exhausted and worn to the bone. He just wanted some peace and quiet, some time to himself to wind down. 

But you were so damn needy for him, pawing at him the second you could get your greedy little hands on him. He was so tired that he simply couldn’t even fathom the idea of getting hard. 

But in the face of your whimpering, the feeling of your soft tits pressed against him as you gripped his cock through his sweats, he could feel himself chubbing up despite it all.

You knew how tired he was. You knew he just wanted to rest and decompress. Yet there you were, tugging his cock from his sweats, stroking him languidly like he was your own personal little toy. 

And for some reason that just set him off. 

Before you knew it, you were pinned face down on the couch, your panties stretched around your thighs. 

“Please, Simon,” you pant, voice pitchy and broken from how utterly needy you were. 

He thought you were so cute, begging him like you hadn’t gotten on his one good nerve the second he walked through the door.

Just to tease you, to be mean because you deserved it for being such a damned brat, he pressed the tip of his leaking cock against your pretty little hole. He felt you clench, eager to suck all of him in. You wanted to be filled so badly, precious cunt drooling slick down to the couch in sticky strings at the mere idea of getting stuffed nice and full by your boyfriend’s perfect cock. 

He tapped the head against your clit, the little bud stiff and neglected. The stimulation made you tremble, a sweet moan escaping your lips from how good the fleeting pleasure felt. 

With you distracted by the teasing, Simon quickly began to jerk himself off, using the sweet, wet heat of your cunt to edge him to a quick release. It had been weeks since he’d gotten off, so it was easy for him to find that euphoria with your pretty little ass perked up just for him, ready and willing to be used - something you weren't even going to get.

That thought alone had him cumming with a soft gasp, making sure to aim it right at the crotch of your panties, spilling his load in the pretty, purple cotton stretched around your thighs. 

“S-Simon?” you asked, already sounding on the verge to tears as you listened to cum without you. 

“There you go, love,” he grunts, lazily tugging your messy panties up. 

You whined when his cum smeared all over your cunt, mixing with your creamy juices. The cotton soaked up the liquids and plastered itself to your folds, giving him the perfect view. 

Meanly, he patted your cunt before tucking his cock away and climbing off of the couch with a grunt. You flopped onto your side, tearily watching as he made a show of stretching and yawning.

“Really needed that, sweetheart,” he grinned, “I want you to keep my cum nice and warm in your panties while I go have a nap. Think I’ve earned one. And maybe when I’m back, you’ll stop bein’ such a damned brat and I’ll give you what you want, yeah?”

[ghostswoman]

“why’re you bein’ so snappy today, sweetheart?”

genuine concern laces simon’s voice as the mattress dips beneath you with his added weight, but it’s still not enough to knock you from your bratty state. sat at the head of your bed with your knees bent together in front of you, arms crossed over your chest, a pouty look on your face that hasn’t changed since you woke up that morning.

his hand slips up your calf and his other follows suit on your other leg not long after, and you’re still ignoring him. maneuvering themselves to the backs of your knees, making you huff out a frustrated sigh.

“still not gonna talk to me?” he frowns, calloused fingers abandoning your knee-socks and making their way up your bare thighs. his skin is cold, freezing against yours, and your breathing hitches when the rough pads creep upward past the end of your skirt.

you shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes and unrelenting with your behavior, and he’s forced to keep prodding; continue pushing forward, see how long you can keep up the facade until you’ll be whining and writhing and rightly fixed under him.

his digits graze your upper thighs, trickling inward to where you’ve always been the most sensitive, and he tugs at the lacy material of your panties — twice, before pulling them tight against you.

a small whine unexpectedly falls from your lips.

and, oh, he’s got you.

“my poor baby…” he coos. the second his hands emerge from beneath your skirt, your eyes snap open, surprised he’d tease you in such a mean way. his large palms move back to encase your knees; gradually guiding them to part, gentle as you go so pliant for him.

“just a troublesome, little thing, aren’t ya?”

your grumpy pout turns to a sad, desperate one, and he hums in sympathy. he knows you don’t mean to be like this.

he reaches forward again, this time his knuckles finally making contact with the soaked center of your panties, and you gasp aloud. his touch is still light though it’s enough to make you deprived.

“y’need me to help ya rub one out, hm? is that it?”

and finally- finally, you give in to simon. nodding your head, eyes all watery when a tear falls to your puffy cheek, and murmuring soft pleas that entirely contradict the you from a mere minute ago.

he grins proudly; no matter how difficult you may be at times, he’ll always break through it. pull his sweetheart from whatever depths of ill-behavior she fell into, reset that little brain for the better.

“it’s alright, dovie, i’ve got ya. just let me take care of you.”

his hand dips between your skin and the fabric of your panties, careful as he inches closer to your heat, and you give him full reign.

because that’s what he’s there for; to take care of you, of course.

[ghostswoman]

Simon fingering his sub while she is on the phone, on a call with a friend. She tries her best to make conversation, but can't help the little hushed whimpers that slip out.

Simon lets out a chuckle as he picks up the pace, watching as she starts to squirm as well.

[ghostswoman]

rolling over, half asleep, in the middle of the night and when you stretch your arm out you end up smacking ghost in the face, and you can’t help but fling yourself back with a loud gasp before realizing it’s just your man, who yet again, snuck inside and cozied up to you without stirring you (bc he hates waking up his baby) bc he was able to come home early and chose to surprise you. and after you relax and begin apologizing for hitting him you hear his low, growly chuckle as he sits up to pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead before mumbling into your sweet smelling hair “it’s all right lovie, di’n’t mean to scare you.”

[ghostswoman]

losing the idgaf war badly (I want to be in love and to have someone be in love with me)

[ghostswoman]

Fem!Reader Simon finds out about your obsession with his hands

"what are you doing, love?" he asks, his voice laced in an amused tone as you trace your fingers along the various bulging veins that run across his hand and travel all the way up his muscular arm.

you place a soft kiss on the back of his palm, then a second one on his wrist, moving higher, planting open-mouthed kisses on the scars adorning his skin, your lips lingering on each one, your warm breath fanning against his skin.

and he shivers at your touch, your tenderness towards him... even after all this time, feeling the love and adoration that immerses your tender heart bleed through your lips onto his skin, the love that burns so brightly, seething more and more every day.

and he cherishes every bit of it, absorbing all your love and warmth that you show him in your own unique way, collecting every single piece and keeping it safe deep within his heart which he now feels flutter and melt at your tender touch.

"they're beautiful, si... your hands, all of you... so beautiful..." you whisper over his skin, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. and he closes his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he savors the moment.

you kiss his shoulder and tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet, yet flaming kiss, your kiss setting his heart and soul on fire, the roaring flames engulfing him as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you impossibly closer.

your body goes limp and you nearly melt in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, yet so gentle and comforting, so warm, electrifying as if he's touching you for the very first time.

you softly moan into his mouth as your lips dance so smoothly against one another and you wrap your arms around his neck and swaddle his waist as you settle on his lap.

"touch me please, si." you whine breathily against his lips, craving his touch so fiercely. he smiles into the kiss and his hands begin to roam across your back, leaving a trail of flames in their wake.

his hands travel to your front, softly caressing your beautiful skin and moving higher to your breasts. he cups them in his large hands, rough and calloused skin massaging the soft flesh, making you mewl and whimper as he slightly squeezes your boobs.

his fingers flick your perky nipples, causing a surge of thrill and arousal to run through your core. "fuck! i love it when you touch me like this!" you murmur with a content dazed smile, lost in a blissful fog as his rough hands stroke your body so good it makes you almost drool with delight. he only smirks and goes on kissing and touching you just how you like it.

[ghostswoman]

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

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

"Simon, just give it some time."

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

His heart warms at that.

.

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

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

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

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

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

"I told you so; enjoy it."

With a smile.

[ghostswoman]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[ghostswoman]

TW: panic attack

You sit on the edge of the bed while violent sobs escape your body.  

You clutch your chest, struggling to breathe, pounding heart threatening to burst through your ribcage. 

Your shaking hand reaches for your phone and after struggling with your quivering fingers for some time, you finally manage to find his number and hit the dial button. 

He picks up his phone and the moment he hears your anguished sobs, he’s on his feet. 

“I’m on my way, love. Don’t hang up. Listen to me. Just breathe. In and out. Can you do that for me?” 

“S-si...” you stutter in between cries of sheer despair, trying your hardest to get some air in your lungs. 

After a few minutes on the phone with him, you finally calm down a bit, “Simon! I- I can’t...” you gasp out. 

“You can, love. Just keep breathing. I'm almost there.” 

He's there in nearly five minutes, quickly unlocking the door with the key you gave him and rushing to the bedroom. 

He gathers you in his strong arms and holds you through all the pain and turmoil, your woeful cries slowly dying down in his soothing embrace. 

He picks up the broken pieces one by one... and carefully, delicately puts you back together again. 

He knows. He's far too familiar with the battle within... and how you struggle to set yourself free of the jaws of the abyss as it’s gnawing at your soul. 

And he listens... listens to every silent word that you never speak. 

And he assures you that he will stay and hold you through it all.