Taking Anti-depressant Pills?? Seeing A Therapist??? Journaling???? No Need Babe, My Fav Writer Just

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

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simon’s not vocal during sex. like before you knew him well you’d even get a little insecure about it. but now that you know he isn’t, it doesn’t bother you.

the only time you’ve ever heard more than a grunt from him after he sinks into your warm, wet cunt for the first stroke is when he’s bone dead tired.

only when he’s so exhausted and his legs feel like they’re being weighed down, will he let you know how good he feels.

your soft body bouncing lazily atop of his, barely raising your hips before simon’s calloused hands are pulling you back down onto his cock.

the warmth of your pussy practically lulling him to sleep. warbled, almost pained, noises leaving his lips.

grunts, mewls, whimpers leaving him as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“fuck, doll. slow down, gonna make me cum.”

but he’s the only slamming you down onto him. guiding your movements as growls leave his throat until he cums inside you with such a guttural moan that your clit throbs deliciously.

rocking you down into him as his chest heaves with exertion. eyes slowly blinking up at you as his thumb finds your clit to rub lazy circles until your tightening around his cock and you find your own release.

MDNI 18+

mentions of: oral sex (m) receiving, thumb sucking

oral sex with simon riley is absolutely filthy, dirty all around with spit, cum and tears. simon knew that he was a big guy, his cock heavy in his hands as he gave it a few hasty pumps, the roughness of his hands on his aching cock making him hiss slightly. his free hand tugging the back of your head, allowing him gently rubbing his leaking head over your plush lips, making them glisten with his precum. “give it yer all yeah? slobber all of it luvie.”

simon wasn’t a patient guy, roughly shoving his cock in fully with no warning making you gag as his fat tip hits the back of your throat. he was addicted to the way your warm mouth felt, your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. your mouth was stretched out to accomodate his girth, your jaw slightly sore before he pushed your head fully down, your nose nestled in between his messy pubes.

he had one criteria for blow jobs, you needed to be an absolute mess after.

wet squelching sounds filled the room as you drooled all over his cock, making a mess on your hands as it dribbled down the corners of your mouth then to your chin. “remember to breathe luvie, can’t have yer passin’ out on me.”

he fucked your mouth like it was your cunt, two of his large scarred hands fisting your hair forcing you to take his cock fully, a guttural groan leaving his lips. when he would come he wouldn’t stop, forcing you to mix your saliva with his cum as it dribbled down your chin, the clear liquid slightly milky now. “such a pretty girl makin’ a mess on me cock, havin’ fun luvie?” he cooed as he panted, his chest rising whilst beads of sweat were on his forehead.

roughly, he pulled his cock out, a loud ‘pop’ leaving your swollen lips as he did with a string of saliva that connected from his pinkish swollen head to your glossy lips. “such a good girl.” he praised lowly as he rubbed your lips with his thumb, before slipping it in. instinctively you sucked on it, your tongue swirling as he shoved it deeper.

“ yer have an oral fixation bun?”

his gaze dropped down to your neck and chest, the milky liquid now seeping in between your breasts. he raised a hand to gently smear it across your breasts, your skin glistening with the sticky liquid as simon made a silent claim. “might have to fuck yer tits if they look so pretty like that.” his voice low as he brought his hand covered with your saliva and his cum to your face, before smearing it on your cheeks. the sticky liquid coated your skin before simon gently ran it through your hair, making some parts clumped together.

“give me a big smile luvie.”

as you closed your eyes, a big toothy grin on your face tilted up, simon messily fisted his cock, sloppy wet sounds filling the room before he came all over your face. your lashes slightly glued and clumped together as he coated your face.

Simon likes what you likes

Tomorrow I promise to get some requests in my inbox done 🤞

Whenever Simon was asked what his favorite color was, or favorite movie, favorite song, favorite anything, really he always had the same answer.

“Don’t have one.”

Johnny would roll his eyes. Kyle would snort and call him a grump. Price wouldn’t bother asking. But Simon never thought too hard about it. He didn’t see the point. Liking things—really liking them—meant caring. And caring opened doors to places he preferred staying locked.

That was before you.

Before you, with your endless lists of favorites. Your hobbies, your collections, the way you lit up when talking about a movie you loved or a book you couldn’t put down. You could talk for hours. And you often did— sometimes with him half-listening, half-lost in the rhythm of your voice more than the actual words.

And somehow, over time, your favorites became his.

That one film you swore he had to watch? He rolled his eyes, grumbled through the first half— then watched it again when you weren’t home. It was the way you recited your favorite scenes by heart that eventually made it his favorite, too.

The book you kept on your nightstand? He picked it up one lazy afternoon, expecting to read a few pages just to pass the time. He finished it in a day.

Still, every time you asked him about his own favorites, he’d just shrug.

“I like what you like.”

You’d frown. Just a little. A soft downturn of your lips that made something in his chest ache.

So one day, he sat down and thought about it. Really thought.

What did he like? What was his thing?

Guns. Killing. Tracking a moving target from a hundred yards out and watching it drop.

Right. Cool.

So he took you to a shooting range. Taught you how to hold the weapon properly. How to breathe through the shot. How to steady your hands and trust your instincts. He might’ve gotten a little carried away with the details— describing things in a way that probably sounded more violent than romantic. But you liked it. You smiled through the recoil.

You liked doing what you thought he liked.

But the truth?

He would’ve rather been at one of your pottery classes. Covered in clay, watching you laugh when he ruined another mug. He’d rather be curled up on the couch, rewatching your favorite film for the third time. He’d rather do anything, everything, if it meant doing it with you.

Because Simon didn’t care about the things.

He cared about you.

He liked your smile. The way you dressed. The way you smelled— so much that he started using your body wash without even thinking about it.

“Why do ya smell like cupcakes, Lt?” Johnny had asked once, squinting at him, nose wrinkled.

Simon didn’t even blink.

“Your bloody nose probably doesn’t work properly after all the times you’ve been punched in the face.”

He never told him the real reason. Didn’t have to.

He’d already made up his mind.

It was never about the movie, the book, or the smell of your shampoo clinging to his skin. It was about you. About keeping a piece of you close, even in the smallest, stupidest ways. Simon didn’t need a list of favorites.

He had one. Just one. And it was you. Always you.

Wife at First Sight

A mini series of drabbles where Simon decides you’re his wife the moment he laid eyes on you

Part one (~800 words)

Part two (~300 words)

Part three (~900 words)

Part four (~600 words)

Part five (2k words)

Part six (2k words)

Part seven 18+ MDNI (2k words)

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KEN SATO In ULTRAMAN: RISING (2024)

love how when zoro rides with chopper he is in cool big bro mode and when he's with luffy he's goofing around