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You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”
He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”
“I want a big mac.”
He groans louder. 
“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”
He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”
You almost tear up. 
When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”
You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”
He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 
He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 
“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”
“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”
“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 
“Do ya think he’ll like me?”
“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
He leans down, kissing your belly. 
“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”
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As always, Simon stumbles into your shared apartment, sighing. He drops his gear by the door, stripping himself down to his boxers. 
He walks into the living room, where the tv was on mute and a figure slept on your couch. He smiles, heading over to you, a blanket over your sleeping body. Simon stares at you for a moment before picking you up, making you stir awake. 
He smiles, “Hi lovie.”
“Si?”
“‘Hats me.” 
“You’re home?”
“Yup.”
“I haven’t made dinner…”
“S’ what? Pizza place down the stree’ is open.”
“But you deserve a home cooked-”
“Lovie? Why are you s’ hot?”
You blink. “What?”
“Like burnin’ hot…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your burnin’, lovie.”
“I’m fine,” you lie, thrashing around in his arms. “I needa make dinner!”
“You’re sick?”
You don’t respond. 
“Bed. Now.” That was his stern voice. His lieutenant voice. “‘m orderin’ takeout.”
“But-”
“Lovie,” he warns. “Don’t make me tie you t’ the bed. Now, stay there an’ rest.”
He leaves the room to order dinner. When he gets back, you’re fast asleep. 
***
You stir awake hours later, the TV in your bedroom on, Simon sitting next to you. He’s munching on a rice bowl. You groan, “My head hurts.”
“Have ya taken any meds?” You shake your head. He holds out a bite of his food to you. You accept it happily. “Got them rice pla’ers you love so much.”
“Thank you. I can never get old of them.”
“You should.”
“I love you so much, but I haven’t gotten old of you.” 
He rolls his eyes. “You’re gone take some meds after eatin’, ‘kay?”
You nod. “Love you, Si.”
“Love you too, lovie.”
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Tommy.
He came out looking exactly like his father. He acted exactly like him. He didn’t sleep, he had nightmares too often, he loved watching telly, he wouldn’t sleep without you near him, and so much more. 
While you make lunch, Simon sits on the couch with Tommy, watching a football game. The little boy was in his own jersey, babbling everytime his father yelled at the tv. The sight was adorable to anyone who had eyes. He copies his father, bottle in hand, drinking every time his daddy takes a sip of his rootbeer. Tommy’s eyes light up as his daddy turns to him. “Team sucks, don’t they, bubby?”
Tommy didn’t understand, obviously, but he babbles away anyways, like a fan meeting their favourite celeb. Simon was tommy’s favourite person. You always said that they were twins. Tommy always wanted to do everything his daddy was doing. 
“Should we just eat on the couch?” You ask, carrying two plates in hand. Simon nods, patting the spot next to Tommy. You hand Simon his sandwich before turning to Tommy and sitting next to him. You pull the bowl of soft rice off your plate, feeding Tommy little bites off the plastic spoon, He continues watching the game with his dad, chewing with his little gums. 
He’s halfway done the rice before Manchester scores. 
Simon stands up, cheering as loudly as he can. Tommy tries to copy him, knocking over the bowl of rice.
Luckily, it doesn’t spill too much. 
A few grains land on your lap. Simon chuckles, sitting back down. 
Bastard finds this funny.
You throw a spoonful of rice onto him. Tommy laughs, reaching his hand into the bowl and picking up a handful of rice. He shoves his whole fist into his mouth, giggling. 
Simon gasps. “What did ya throw that at me fo’?” 
“It’s funny,” you giggle. 
Simon pulls Tommy’s fist out of his mouth. “Bubby, say ‘bad mommy’.”
“Hey!” You pout. Tommy giggles.
Simon leans over his son, kissing you softly, Tommy’s fist hitting at his chin. He kisses the baby boy’s cheek, smiling. “Love you too, bubby. And you, lovie.”
“I know.”
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Ok so, maybe this is gonna be a bit further into the future when Tommy’s a bit grown up (teenage maybe).
So your doing laundry and see that your son hasn’t been doing his chores and you go up to his room and see him playing his video games as usual, and you softly chastise him about his chores.
And he surprises you with his outburst, and he actually swears at you. And you flinch at the sound, astounded that your own son, your baby boy talked you into that manner.
Simon. Is. Pissed. He loves Tommy, but he will never tolerate him disrespecting you. Simon knows how much work you put into being a mother. Simon goes full on stern dad mode.
Imma let you decide what happens next 🤭🤭
THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA WTFFFFF
Run through here for anyone confused about all the characters
***
Sundays were your favourite days. You loved the relaxation, the peace, the days off. Simon had been home for a few days. Your kids, Tommy, Emma, Lilah, and Alex, were ecstatic. Atleast, the twins were. The second Simon walked through the door, they wanted to play games and go outside and all that. Emma was just happy her dad was home and safe. She had been her father’s daughter from the moment she came out of the womb. 
Tommy, however, your eldest, was a bit closed off. He practically sat in his room all day and never came out, It was starting to get on your nerves. 
You were doing Simon’s laundry when you notice Tommy’s dirty clothes that you had asked him to wash still sitting by the laundry machine. You roll your eyes, heading into his room. “Bubby?”
“What?” he doesn’t turn to look at you, still focused on his PC. 
“You didn’t do your laundry.”
“So what?”
“You need those clothes for school.”
“So you wash them. I’m busy.” 
“Bubby, you’re old enough to wash them yourself.”
“Don’t call me that and isn’t it your job? It’s not like you work or anything. Dad does all of that. All you do is cook and clean and-”
“Thomas Riley!” His words hit deep in your chest. 
“What? God, why do you always have to be such a bitch?” 
That was it. He hit a nerve. You turn, walking out of his room, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You head into your room, holding a pillow to your chest. His words hung in the air. 
Simon walks in moments later, covered in mud after a football game with the twins. “HI lovie,” he smiles before noticing the tears on your cheeks. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you turn away from him. 
“You can’t lie to me, lovie.”
“Tommy yelled at me and he called me a bitch…said my only job was to cook and clean…”
“He what?” Simon is fuming. 
“Please, don’t say anything to him…”
“He’s getting grounded. You stay here,” Simon walks out, running into Lilah. “Oi. Go to mom. She’s sad.”
The little girl nods and pads off to see you.
Simon walks to his eldest son’s room. Tommy turns in his gaming chair. “What?”
“Off the game or I unplug it,” Tommy rolls his eyes but turns off his game. “What did you say to your mom?” 
“Nothing.” 
“You lie just like her,” Simon holds back a chuckle. “She’s crying and it’s because of you. You know how much she does for you? And you swore at her. Go apologise. You’re grounded. No games for a month.”
Tommy looks down at his feet, guilty. He walks off to your room, where Lilah curls into you. You look up as Tommy sits on the edge of your bed. “Ma?”
You look at him.
“Ma, I’m sorry. I kinda let my emotions get the better of me. Didn’t mean to yell at you…just…I found out Lizzie was cheating and I’ve had a real bad week and I took it out on you. Please forgive me?”
A moment passes. 
You open your arms, letting him curl into you. “She cheated?”
“With Neil,” he sighs. “I’m never dating again.”
“That’s what we all say, bubby.”
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A run-through
For anyone confused about different O/Cs in my fics.
(Reader will always be you and nothing else)
You:
Simon’s significant other
Civilian unless mentioned
Met Simon in a bar
Hooked up n fell in love
“Lovie” '
Thomas:
Nicknamed Tommy
First born son of yours and Simons
Named after his dead uncle
Future Lieutenant
“Bubby”
Emilia:
Nicknamed Emma 
Second born
Moody teen
Daddy’s girl
“Dove”
Alexander:
Nicknamed Alex or Lex
Third born
First twin
Unplanned
Athletic/big hockey guy
“Sun”
Delilah:
Nicknamed Lillah
Fourth and last born
Second twin
Unplanned
Forces daddy to play tea party
“Petal”
James:
Emma’s boyfriend
Basically your fifth child
Super sweet
Sees Simon as a father figure
Soap, Gaz, and Price:
Best uncles ever
Amazing
Soap taught Tommy swears
Emma calls Price ‘pa’ for grandpa cause when she was 4, she thought he was her grandpa
Gaz lets the twins climb him like a tree
Riley:
Simon’s retired military dog
Protects the kids with her life 
Scary dog privilege
Loves James to death
Likes to eat everyone’s shoes
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Training
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word Count: 600
Warnings: simon being slutty n walking around in grey sweatpants, playfighting, minor smut, mentions to sex
Summary: Simon teaches you to fight.
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After the attack on you, Simon became panicked. 
The more he loved you, the more people would use you as his weakness. He knew one thing. 
He wouldn’t always be there to protect you. 
So you would have to know how to protect yourself. 
So there he was. Moving the sofa in your shared apartment, creating a bit of space. He laid down a throw blanket. It was small, but it would work. He was shirtless, in just his grey sweatpants. 
You, however, stood off to the side, watching him move your pullout sofa with little effort. You take a deep breath as he calls you into the makeshift fighting ring.
“Okay, lovie,” he starts. “Hit me. As har’ as you can.”
You throw a weak punch at his chest. He doesn’t even blink. 
“Lovie, what the absolute fuck was ‘at?”
“A punch…”
“Lovie, ‘at wasn’t even a poke. Try again.”
You hit him again, a bit harder. His chest is like a rock. You pull your hand back after the impact, wincing as your first stings. “Ow! You’re like wood! That’s not fair!”
“Yer doing everythin’ wron’.”
You pout at his words, “I’ve never fought before…I’m just…I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
He shakes his head, “Too bad. Lovie, ‘m doin’ this for you. Now, come on, I’ll show ya.” He fixes your posture, “Keep tension here. Pull your first back. Shift your weight onto this foot.”
You shift, “This is hard.”
“Learn,” he puppets you, throwing a faux punch with your hand. “Like that.” 
You throw a better punch, finally making him stumble. Just slightly. 
“That was better. Again.”
He teaches you numerous kicks, punches, and even a way to hold a person and put pressure on their neck. He tells you to demonstrate, to hit him, but your eyes are focused on something else. 
His abs.
His arms look so good, so huge. His abs glisten with the smallest amount of sweat. He looks so good.
“Lovie,” he snaps in front of your face. “Oi. Focus.”
Your eyes snap up to his, “You’re distracting me.” 
“Am I?” he flexes. 
You gasp, “Asshole.”
He smiles, “Deal with i’. Now come on, we have work to do.”
“Fine,” You strip off your shirt, your bra hugging your tits. “Let’s go.”
His eyes lock on your tits. 
You chuckle, snapping your fingers in front of his face, mocking him. “Lovie, my eyes are up here.”
“Fuck this,” he tackles you onto your couch, pressing his lips to your exposed skin. 
***
“Okay,” Simon says, putting your ear protectors on. “All good?”
You give him a thumbs up. He presses his front into your back, puppeting you. He aims the gun into your hand at the target. 
“Okay, shoot.” 
The shot echoes off the walls of the shooting range. Your bullet hits the dummy’s shoulder. 
“Nice! ‘Ats not bad, lovie!” Simon smiles wide, kissing your temple. “Again.”
You shoot again. It hits the left pec. Another kiss. 
Another shot. Hits the neck. Another kiss. 
Simon lets you practise for another 10 minutes. He feels proud. Too proud. “Lovie?”
You stop. “Hmm?”
“You’re great. Can we go home now, hmm?” 
“Okay,” you smile, taking off the protectors. “Thanks for teaching me this.”
“After what happened, I’d be a fool not to,” he kisses you. “Yer my whole life.”
He presses himself into you. 
“Now, we’ve got a little problem. Yer solving it in the car. Let’s go. Legs spread.”
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The Scare (Alternate Ending)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, torture, descriptions of blood n torture, comfort, simon in ghost mode, idk what else
Summary: No summary ;) have fun
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. The front door comes into view. They have no care whatsoever, with you hitting your head on the wall. Black dots appear in your vision, slowly taking you out of consciousness. 
***
Simon stepped into the apartment the two of you shared, praying he wasn’t too late. 
The apartment was silent. 
The first bad sign.
He walks towards your bedroom, the door wide open. 
The second bad sign. 
The bed was empty, your candle was still lit, and your book was closed on your bed. 
With no bookmark. 
The third bad sign. 
He was too late. He knew he was too late.
***
2 weeks. 
16 days. 
16 nights you slept. 
24 hours you counted every day.
16 days you slept uneasy. 
Counting down the minutes until Simon would finally find you. 
At least, you hoped he would. 
The men brought you to what seemed like an old warehouse, locking you up in a dark grey rooms. 4 grey walls stared back at you. One little cot in the corner of the room, on the opposite wall, a door. A door you were dragged through every day to be taken to the room you were tortured in every day. They always asked the same questions. 
And they were all about Simon. 
You said nothing, of course. How could you betray him like that? He protects you, you protect him. 
Even if it meant the bruises on your arms would keep coming, the cuts on your back wouldn’t stop bleeding, the grumbling in your stomach wouldn’t stop getting louder, and the pain would just grow. 
You were willing to take it all for him. He was worth it. 
You stare up at the grey ceiling above you, sighing as you lay on the cot, silently praying that wherever Simon is, he’s safe, he’s eaten, and he’s healthy. And he’s looking for you. 
You know he probably is. He loves you. He tells you all the time that you’re his whole world. 
But a part of you can’t help but think that he isn’t coming. You know it’s a lie, Simon would never leave you. Especially when you know he loves you. 
You silently pray. And pray. 
Until the grey fades away and the black of sleep takes over.
*** 
On the morning of the 17th day, you woke up to gunshots. You shivered. Gunshots always meant bad things. At least, that’s what Simon says. 
You stand on shaky legs before getting down, sitting with your knees to your chest. Footsteps make their way closer to your room. Your anxiety skyrockets. The door flies open. 
On instinct, you crawl backwards, in fear. A hand reaches out to you. 
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry. 
“’s me, lovie! ’s me! ’s okay! You’re okay…’s jus’ me. ’s me, lovie…”
You know that voice. You know that accent. You know that way of not pronouncing ‘t’s. 
Simon. 
You peer your eyes open, to be met with a skull mask looking back at you. Acting on instinct, you throw your arms around him, letting out a loud sob of relief. His arms tighten, holding your body against him. He strokes your hair softly. 
“Prove it,” you whisper. 
“Prove what, lovie?” 
“Prove that you’re Simon…I can’t trust anyone right now…” you reply shakily. He nods, taking off his mask. “Si…” You shake your head. “Not enough…”
“You hate the smell of ketchup. You can’t stand vinegar in any of your food. You always light candles when you read. You forgive, but you never forget. You like chocolate and strawberry ice cream, but you can’t stand chocolate-covered strawberries. You love ‘The Rookie’, even though it’s inaccurate and it sucks. You need more?” he rambles. 
You giggle softly through the tears in your eyes, curling into him once more. 
“‘m here, ‘m here, I promise. ‘M not leavin’ you. Gonna take you home,” he smiles at you, still holding you against him. His eyes drift down to the bruises and the cuts and the dried blood on your arms. You notice his eyes, the soft glint in them gone, replaced by an angry look. He presses a finger into his ears. “Johnny, don’ spare any o’ them.”
You blink a few times to process his words but snuggle closer to him as he speaks to Johnny. He takes off his jacket, wrapping you in it. He holds you there for what seems like hours, though it’s merely 10 minutes. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands up, heading out of the room you’re both in. He keeps your head cradled against him, shielding you from the battle going on outside. 
He takes you onto a jet, a military one, you recognize. He sets you down on a seat, sitting next to you, holding onto you. “Simon…” his name escapes your lips as a whisper, your eyes starting to close again.
“Keep ‘em open, please. Lovie, I need t’ know you're still conscious. Please, keep ‘em open,” his free hand caresses your face. “Just a little longer, I promise.”
“Trying,” you respond. He smiles, continuing to play with my hair. “Hey Si?”
“Hmm?” He hums. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, lovie.”
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may I request a fic where ghost and reader takes their first newborn to the doctors for their first vaccinations and they get emotional and start to cry bc the baby is crying 🥺😭
Tommy. He was the most perfect thing both of you have ever seen.
He loved curling up against Simon. He loved pulling your hair. He loved kicking. He loved giggling at things that weren't funny. He loved everything.
But you could tell he wasn't going to like shots.
Sitting in the waiting room, Simon on his phone while you had Tommy clutched to your chest, cooing at him softly while stroking his hair. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay. It'll be okay."
"Are you trying to convince him or yourself?" Simon snorts.
"How are you so calm about this?" You whisper-yell.
"It's one shot, lovie. He'll live," he rolls his eyes.
The nurse calls your last name and the three of you stand, Simon picking up Tommy's car seat. You head into the room, setting Tommy down on the bed, unbuttoning his onesie so the nurse can have access to his thigh.
You almost faint as you see the needle. It's small. Smaller than your pinky for sure, but it still scares you. You clutch your baby boy's arm, tearing up.
"You okay, mom?" The nurse asks as she rubs an alcohol wipe over the spot Tommy will receive the shot. You nod.
It's a lie. You're panicking.
You feel a hand on your back, stroking it softly. Simon presses his chest into your back, towering over your frame to watch Tommy. The baby boy starts giggling as soon as he sees his father.
As soon as the needle goes in, the giggles stop, and the cries begin. Every single one of them breaks your heart, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Simon stays neutral, one hand on you, the other stroking his son's cheek.
The shot lasts maybe 10 seconds. But at the end of it, Simon has a crying baby...
and a crying wife.
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The Scare
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf
Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 
But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 
Simon…
Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 
Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 
The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 
You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 
From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 
You think… 
One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 
You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…
He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 
It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 
But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 
You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 
A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 
You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 
He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”
You do as he says. 
A deep exhale leaves your body. 
He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 
“N-no…” you blink back tears.
“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 
You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”
He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.
“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 
“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 
“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 
“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”
“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”
“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 
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Masterlist <3
I write for almost everyone, send me an ask :)
Simon Ghost Riley:
A Run-Through
Simon x Gf!reader:
Peace
Surprises
The Scare
The Scare (Alternate Ending)
Training
Simon x wife!reader:
Home
The Morning After
Late Manchester Nights
Nightmares
Simon From The Wiggles
Blurbs:
Insomnia
Sick
Sick Part 2
Tommy's Newborn Shots
Pregnancy Cravings
Tommy Being Simon's Twin
Family Fights
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Surprises
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 800
Warnings: none, fluff :)
Summary: Simon won't be home for Christmas, or will he?
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Simon called you, the day before Christmas, Christmas Eve, when he finally got access to his phone, saying he wouldn’t be home. The mission he was on was taking too long and they needed him. You were disappointed, of course, but you shrugged it off. You knew he worked hard. It was okay. 
You laid back with a mug of cocoa in hand, sitting on the couch, plush blanket wrapped around you. You were watching the Grinch, but the Jim Carrey version. You were at peace, cozy, comfortable, and happy. Even if Simon wasn’t there. 
You were halfway through the movie before the doorbell rang. You set down your mug, tossing your blanket onto the couch. You straighten your shirt, heading to the door. This is the first time you don’t look through the peephole. You should’ve. 
You pull the door open.
There he was. 
Full gear. Mask still on. Guns still strapped into their holsters. 
Lieutenant S. Riley sewn on a patch on his black vest. 
On one knee. For you. Velvet small box in his hand. 
Tears sting the corners of your eyes. You can barely hear your own voice, “S-si?”
“Hi lovie,” you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “Know I said I wouldn’ be home…but had somethin’ to do. Practically begged Price to let me go. Big guy understood, I mean, he knows how hard it is to surprise your girl. Had something super important to ask ya’.”
There’s no way this was happening. You couldn’t believe it. 
“‘his wasn’t how I planned i’. Always wan’ed to take you out to a beach or shit an’ sayin’ all that romantic shi’. But ‘ere we are. Couldn’t wait any longer. You’re too beautiful and I wanna be yours foreve’. You’re too kind to me to let anyone else have ya. You’re absolutely perfect, lovie. Absolutely perfect,” you can tell he’s smiling. “You make m’ life so much better. I wanna marry you, lovie. I do. Please. So, will ya? Will ya marry this old sack o’ balls?”
Your mind is clouded. Your eyes filled with so many tears, you can’t even see him anymore. Your hands are clasped against your chest. 
“L-lovie?” Simon panics. He thinks the tears on your cheeks mean no. He gulps. “Say somethin’. Please?”
Before he can get another word out, you throw your arms around him, crashing into him. You wrap your legs around his torso, hands cupping the back of his head. He stumbles, almost dropping the ring. He gets onto both knees now, both hands stroking your back, holding you flush against him. He sighs in relief. 
He stands up, carrying both of you back into the apartment. He shuts the door with his foot, still holding you against him, your legs still wrapped tightly around his waist, head tucked into the crook of his neck. 
When you finally pull away, the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. Simon wipes them away with his free hand, the other still secured around you, holding the ring box. “You’re serious?”
“‘Course, I am, lovie. Spend the rest of your life with me, please,” he practically begs as he lowers you down to the ground.
You tear up again, smile so big it covers half your face. “Of course, I will.” 
He pulls you into his chest, hugging you so tight you think you’ll be crushed. He pulls off his mask and balaclava, kissing your temple, cheek, neck, and any other exposed skin he can find. 
The two of you stand in each other’s embrace for a few more minutes before he finally pulls way, kissing your cheek one last time. He opens the box, a large oval cut diamond staring back at you. He slips the ring onto your finger. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you wipe your tears before more come flooding down. “This is so much. One minute, I’m sitting on my couch watching the Grinch and the next, I’m getting engaged to you?!”
“’S insane, I know, lovie. Bu’ I had to surprise you. Price gave me the okay to leave 4 days ‘go. Didn’t wanna show up ‘till tonight, couldn’t ruin my surprise,” he gives you a cheeky smile before kissing your cheek. “Now, can ya stop cryin’ so I can get a nice pic of me an’ my girl, no, my fiance, to send to the boys?” 
You giggle, wiping your tears as he leads you back to the couch, stripping his gear off on the way. He sits down next to you, pulls out his phone and snaps a selfie of you two before sending it off to the Task Force group chat with the caption ‘My beautiful fiancé.’
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(Little photo for reference)
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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So honoured!!!
🖤 Best Simon "Ghost" Riley Fics On Tumblr 🖤
Part One • Part Two • Part Three
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Fluff
Simon got a flu [sick Simon] ~ @i-am-hungry-24-7
Babies!?!?! ~ @boowritess
Nightmares [Dad Simon] ~ @simonrileysfavteacup
Change [Hurt/Comfort?] ~ @ragingbookdragon
Girl Dad [Dad Simon] ~ @thexsilentxwordsmith
Preference [Dad Simon] ~ @xo-cod
Goth ~ @starry-eyedblog
New Cat ~ @mactavishsgfandwife
Cuddling ~ @mactavishsgfandwife
Curly Haired ~ @mactavishsgfandwife
Drabble ~ @suguann
Headcannons ~ @tumblerlove
Scratching his Back ~ @crestapex
What Are We? ~ @sim0nril3y
Pretty Boy ~ @ghostlychief
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Simon From The Wiggles
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word Count: 632
Warnings: dad!simon, mom!reader, simon's first born son being named tommy after his brother, fluff
Summary: Coming home after a mission to his favourite people in the world, Simon experiences one of the best moments of his life.
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(this is the guy being spoken about)
Simon had been off on a mission for a month or so, practically crawling to get back to you and your son, Tommy. The little bugger had just surpassed 10 months and he had began babbling. He was the most adorable thing and you both loved him to death. He was the light in the dark for Simon, much like you were the sun to his rain. 
When he finally did step back into your home, he immediately heard giggles coming from the living room. Tommy’s sweet little giggles. His babbling too, echoing throughout your house. He stripped off his gear, leaving everything by the door, including his mask. Simon stepped into the living room in just his compression shirt and tactical pants, smiling at the sight of you sitting on the ground, holding Tommy on your lap. 
The little boy’s eyes light up at the sight of his father, kicking his legs to get to him. Poor guy still doesn’t understand how walking works. Simon smiles, bending down to take the boy into his arms, tossing him up into the air and catching him again like a ball, just how he likes. 
You stand up, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, smiling. “Hi honey, welcome home.”
He grins, “Hi lovie. You both have fun withou’ me?”
“Lots,” you nod at Tommy, nudging him with your nose. “Ain’t that right, bubba?”
The little boy giggles and fills the house with his little babbles. The sight makes Simon’s heart flutter. 
“Why don’t you two sit down, huh? I’m gonna go get started on dinner,” you kiss Tommy’s temple and Simon’s cheek. 
You head into the kitchen, preparing dinner. 
Simon sits down with Tommy, placing the little boy on his lap as he turns the tv volume back up. 
There’s these 3 guys, in different coloured shirts–blue, purple, and red–singing, with a girl in a yellow dress, bow in her hair. They look Simon’s age. He chuckles. Tommy’s face lights up, squealing.
“Mi-mom!” The boy babbles. 
Simon blinks. He does a double take. “What you sayin’, bubby?”
The boy giggles, still staring at the screen. He claps his hands, “Mi-mon!” 
It’s more audible this time too. But Simon still hears what he heard before.
“Lovie! He said i’! He said his firs’ word! My name! Lovie!” he shouts. 
You poke your head back into the living room. “Really?”
“Yeah! Say it agai’, bubby! Come on!” Simon’s voice is filled with excitement.
“Mi-mon! Mi-mon! Mi-mon!” Tommy claps and giggles at the top of his lungs. 
“Damn it, bubby. You ruined the surprise,” you shake your head. 
Simon furrows his brows in confusion. Why aren’t you excited like he is? Your first child just said his first word!
“Whadya mean, lovie? ‘his is amazin’!” Simon tosses his baby boy into the air. “My name!” 
“He wasn’t referring to you, Si,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. “One of his favourite characters in that show is called Simon…he said his name 2 days ago…I was going to surprise you.”
“What? What show?” Simon remains confused. 
“Simon…from…the wiggles…”
“‘M sorry, lovie, what the fuck did you jus’ say?” 
“The red guy on the tv, that’s him…” 
“The old guy? Tommy loves ‘im?” 
“Mhm.” 
The little boy in question is kicking to get back to the tv. 
“I’m sorry, honey…I know you were super excited and you should still be! His first word was Simon! We can tell people it was for you!” 
“Lil bugger,” Simon nudges his son. “Say it again.”
The boy giggles, not yet understanding his father. 
“Si, it’s a good thing, right?” you smile. 
“‘Course, lovie, he’s gonna be talkin’ soon, and he’ll be able to say daddy,” Simon tickles the boy. “Ain’t that right, Mi-mon?” 
Tommy’s eyes light up. “Mi-mon!” 
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Peace
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1K ish?
Warnings: skinny dipping, simon being fine while he chops would, manly muscles, manly tasks, simon who works all the time
Summary: With Simon, vacations were always rare, so you soaked up every chance you got.
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(This is the lake I imagined, the one from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds, this includes the cabin where Coryo finds the gun)
Vacations with Simon were always hard. 
He’d always be working. All the time. He’d come home from a mission just to go on another one the next day. If he wasn’t on a mission, he’d be writing reports or working out in your home gym. Never gets a break. 
So when you invited Price and his wife over to dinner, you secretly begged for a leave for Simon to take him on a vacation. Price, being the good dude he is, obviously says yes and sends Simon off on a vacation for three weeks with you. 
And here’s a lil headcannon, Simon hates sand. And heat. So no tropical areas. :( No bahamas trip for you.
More so, you settled for a little cabin, deep in the woods, in British Columbia, Canada. And yeah, it sounds lame, but it was perfect for you and Simon. 
One bedroom cabin, a fireplace in the living room, and a cozy bed with the best duvet. It featured a little tiny shower that you and Simon shrunk into every morning, mostly just to be close to each other because the shower was half the size of Simon. And one of Simon’s favourite additions, an axe for wood chopping. The cabin faces out to a large lake. Everything was concealed by trees, leaving just you and Simon alone. There were no distractions, just the very-much-needed break. 
Simon would wake up every morning to chop wood, his way of working out. His exact statement was that the woods were peaceful and the swinging with the axe was good for his arms. And he did it shirtless, of course, just as he did when he worked out at home. 
Toned chest, glistening with sweat in the early morning of the hours, hands gripping the axe he grew to love in the last week, grunting every time he brought the axe down. 
You stood at the entrance of the cabin, leaning against the doorframe, coffee mug in hand as you stare at him, practically eye-fucking him. He was panting, a pile of wood sitting next him, fully chopped. You had no purpose for it but the fireplace, which you kept lit every evening as you two ate dinner. Simon’s grunts were reaching every nerve of your body. He looks too damn good for it to be 6 A.M. in the morning. 
“Do you want tea?” You speak up, breaking his focus on the wood. Your eyes stay on his abs as he looks up, chuckling softly. 
“Would love a cuppa, lovie,” he looks back down at the wood. “Admirin’ the view, hm?”
“You look really good, honey,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. 
“Bet I do,” he moves back to chopping his wood. 
“Don’t we have enough fireplace wood?” you tilt your head, still staring at him. 
“Just havin’ fun with it now, lovie,” he shrugs. “Helps me stay in shape, migh’ as well.”
“You don’t need any help staying in shape, honey. You look fine to me,” you giggle. 
He chuckles softly, “Ya keep feedin’ me them deserts and I’ll end up bigger than the lake.”
“You love my deserts,” you giggle. 
“Damn righ’, I do,” he looks up at you and smirks. 
“When you’re done, lumberjack, come inside. I’ll make breakfast, ‘kay?” you smile. He nods and continues his chopping. 
You head back inside, pulling a pan out from one of the cabinets, preparing a batch of scrambled eggs. You make Simon a cup of tea as well, setting it aside for him. He comes in moments later, sighing as he stretches. He grabs a plate of the eggs, taking his cup and sitting down on the couch before patting the spot next to him. 
You sit down next to him. “You wanna go for a dip in the lake after this?”
“Always,” he smiles. 
The two of you eat in silence, taking in the environment around you. The soft rustling of the trees, the chirping of birds, the smell of fresh air, and the sight of the sunlight filtering through the windows. Staying in a cabin in the middle of the forest wasn’t ideal, but it was perfect to you. The quiet solitude of nature and the fresh air provide a peaceful refuge to recharge and rejuvenate. The sounds of nature, from the songs of birds to the gentle whispering of the wind, create a harmonious cacophony that calms the mind and spirit. 
It was truly perfect to the two of you. 
You left both your dirty dishes in the sink to worry about later, heading outside to join Simon, who’s already stripped down to his boxers. He jumps off the dock and into the lake, making the loud splash of the water echo through the empty forest. You follow him, stripping off your dress, jumping into the lake in just a bra and panties. 
 The satisfying splash as you break the surface and the sensation of cool water against your skin, followed by the refreshing feeling of weightlessness as you glide through the water. The taste of salt on your lips and the sensation of the sun's warmth upon your face as you emerge from the water, breathless and invigorated. Simon’s arms wrap around you, holding you flush against his chest, smiling. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you whisper back, biting back a giggle as he pulls you underwater with him again. 
The two of you spend at least an hour in the water, giggling and splashing each other with water, suppressing loud laughs. When you finally decide to get out, Simon pulls you in for a kiss, heading into the cabin to grab a blanket and a towel. He dries you off before drying himself, motioning for you to lie down on the blanke the laid out like a picnic. He lays down on his side, pulling you in to lie your head on his stomach. He intertwines your hands, kissing your temple. 
“Thank you for forcing me to come on this trip,” he smiles. 
“Thank you for putting up with my bullshit and always doing whatever I say,” you giggle. 
“Always will, lovie,” he kisses your temple again. You look back up at the sky, squeezing his hand. 
This.
This was what peace felt like.
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Late Manchester Nights
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!wife!reader
Word count: close to 700
Warnings: reader having to piss every 2 mins, simon being cute n fluffy, pregnancy?
Summary: The best nights are the ones spent at home.
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Late Manchester evenings spent at home were Simon’s favourites. Yours too. You both loved sitting at home, locking out the world, just the two of you. 
And it was about to get a whole lot better. 
Stroking a hand over your very swollen belly, you came back to the couch, after your third bathroom break of the evening. You curl into Simon again, sighing as you both continue watching the show you had put on. He strokes your hair as you two watch the show. You feel so comfortable and safe being wrapped up in his arms, especially since you’re in your third trimester and need the support. Simon’s touch always calms you down, his scent always reassuring.
“He kickin’? I feel something,” Simon breaks the silence between you two. 
“He’s always kicking,” you take his hand and place it on your belly. 
“Lil bugger’s strong, ain’t he?” he chuckles softly. “Only a month to go, lovie.”
“5 weeks, technically. And he’s strong like his daddy, just as annoying too,” you giggle. 
“I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you in my life. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t wanna think about it,” he presses his lips to your forehead.
“Well, for starters, you’d probably never have a home cooked meal,” you tease.
“That’s true. I’ve always been hopeless in the kitchen. No one else could’ve ever taught me. You’ve really made a positive difference in my life. You gave me all the love I needed and more. You made me strong and taught me how to really love someone. Thank you, lovie, I don’t know how else to thank you for everything you’ve done. And I want you to know, I won’t stop ‘til I can make you just as happy as you make me.”
“You already make me so happy,” you lean against him, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re the best.”
He hugs you tightly, enjoying the closeness and the way he can feel your belly against his. He kisses you softly and brushes your hair out of your face. 
“I have to pee again.”
He groans and lets you get up, his arms falling by his sides. “I don’t get it. How many pints of piss could be in that lil body of yours, lovie? Y’can’t just have one pee every once in a while?”
You giggle at him as you waddle to the washroom. He laughs at you, shouting the word ‘penguin’ at you. 
When you come back, he’s still chuckling. You slap his shoulder as you sit down again, sighing. 
“You get more beautiful every day,” Simon whispers. 
“Really?” you look up. 
"You don't even realise your beauty. Every day I look at you, all I see is perfection. You're getting bigger and bigger with our baby but you don't look anything like a fat slob. Y'still as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more. And as you grow more beautiful, so does my love for you,” he mumbles, stroking your cheek. 
“You’re gonna make me blush,” you tease. “You're the best wife any man could ever ask for. I get to wake up next to my gorgeous, pregnant wife every morning, how does that not inspire happiness in me? I get to go home every night next to the light in my world and I don't dread seein' you. We had some rough patches at the beginning but we made it through, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together,” he nudges your nose with his. “Perfection.”
“You’re too good to me,” you smile, leaning into him. “You know I couldn’t have found anyone better than you? And before you go on about that ‘I’m traumatised’ bullshit, just know that your whole past and everything you’ve been through is why I love you. It makes you stronger every day and I get to be the lucky person sitting by your side watching you become the best version of yourself. You are the best for me, Si.”
He smiles, kissing your forehead. 
“Hey Si?”
“Don’t say it, lovie.”
“I have to pee again.”
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Looking for mutuals who will read my fics before i post!!! pls message me!!!
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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Simon Riley whose insomnia is so bad that when you first start sharing a bed together, he gets a wink of sleep. Not that he gets more than that any other night but still…
You’d be lying next to him, fast asleep, curled up in his arms. He’s almost there. Almost asleep. So close…
And then you shift. And he’s wide awake again. 
Staring down at your sleeping body that shifted an inch closer to him. That took him out of his beauty sleep. 
Almost. 
He could be asleep and you’d shift around a little, he’d still wake up and look over at you. Eyes narrowed to see if you were awake. 
When he’s asleep and you get up to grab something, he jolts awake as if on the battlefield, ready to rip a head off. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Gonna go get a glass of water…and maybe some sleeping pills for you,” you tease, heading to the kitchen. 
But when he finally does get used to sharing a bed and his insomnia lessens, be ready for his loud loud loud ass snores.
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