smoot-h0eperator

[smoot-h0eperator]

biker!dad!Ghost

[smoot-h0eperator]

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.”

[smoot-h0eperator]

[smoot-h0eperator]

very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that's rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

[smoot-h0eperator]

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)

[smoot-h0eperator]

Simon is cold, he’s rough, rude, and doesn’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinions.

Except for you, to you he’s soft, vulnerable, sweet, loving, and happy.

One day you go to drop off his lunch at base as he has forgotten it.

You walk in, dressed in a light pink sundress with flowers on it.

White sandals on your feet, your toes painted white and your nails done in a light pink.

You walk in and go up to the receptionist. All eyes on you.

“Is Simon here?” You ask softly, a small smile on your pink lips

The receptionist looks at you confused, “Simon? Ma’am I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re speaking of.”

A few minutes pass and you’re waiting on the receptionist, when all of a sudden a group of men walk in.

Everyone stands up and salutes them except you, you look up from your phone and see your husband.

“Simmy!” You run through the group of men until you reach Simon, hugging him tightly. The room goes silent as everyone stares.

Some people whisper knowing that he’s most likely gonna push you off and say a rude remark but he doesn’t. Not to you.

He wraps his arms around you as well and picks you up. “Hey love,” He kisses your cheek and hugs you tighter. “What are you doing here?”

You pull away and hug his arm, smiling brightly. “You forgot your lunch, where were you?”

“Just a mission.” He grumbles, he holds your hand and without even saying bye to his comrades he leads you to his office.

Leaving everyone shocked and confused, they all thought that he was lying when he said he was married. And especially they didn’t expect his wife to be so gorgeous.

[smoot-h0eperator]

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

[smoot-h0eperator]

MILKMAN HEHEHEH

(Quality is bad bros)

#thats not my neighbour milkman #milkman #francis mosses #thats not my neighbor

[smoot-h0eperator]

Meet the artist I also did wayy back

#meet the artist

[smoot-h0eperator]

Cod Oc I made long back:>

#cod fanart #cod #cod imagine #cod art #cod oc art #cod ocs #call of duty oc

[smoot-h0eperator]

he's not a dopple, he just reaalllyy likes you <3

[smoot-h0eperator]

Just me having fun with Ghoap and "collaging" a bunch of drawings of them together

[smoot-h0eperator]

Just me having fun with Ghoap and "collaging" a bunch of drawings of them together

[smoot-h0eperator]

Soapghost 104: hurt/comfort

Soap injured (his fault)

Ghost injured (not his fault)

[smoot-h0eperator]

a mimir💤

[smoot-h0eperator]

simon riley is touch starved, the gnawing need to feel and touch is hidden and buried deep behind his austere façade, the one that actually covered in wide, bleeding cracks, which are about to come apart like stitches on an unhealed wound.

he denied himself tenderness, stubbornly lifting his chin and turning his nose at any caresses and tenderness for so long that when you appeared, when the pads of your fingers skipped for the first time over his sturdy shoulder, he felt an almost wild hunger.

simon's whole body was buzzing with deep need, bubbling up in his lower abdomen in bright flashes of heat, making his skin tingle and sting every time his dark, sulken whiskey eyes fell on you.

it was hunger, genuine, animalistic, the desire to see your gaze only on his eyes, to feel your hands on his body, everywhere, over the thick layers of his gear and underneath, on the wounded, scarred and burning skin, where your gentle and tender touches felt as a pleasant and soothing cold.

he likes it when you kiss his scars, thin and wide, from bullets and knives, a particularly painful scar on his ribs, but each of them seems to disappear and dissolve under your soft lips, down to moles, to his shoulders and spine.

your touches cover his entire body from head to toe, with kisses, light scratches from your fingernails after the long, drawn out nights you spend under simon's body, with your legs spread wide to accommodate his hips, kissing the animal growls from his pale lips and leaving bright buds of marks on his neck.

you have tamed the wild wolf in human form, but he will be the most faithful and the most loving to you, until his last breath and heartbeat, because his whole life and existence is dedicated to you, and only you.

because you're the only one who, without fear, without prejudice or disgust, has accepted him as he is in your hands, letting his growls turn into purrs.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[smoot-h0eperator]

In our bedroom after the war