Metanoia - The journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life.
Ao3
You meet your neighbor You need a favor You go to dinner You have a secret You make a promise You don’t like silence You learn the truth You keep your promise You return a favor You need a date You go to tea You meet a ghost
i don’t know about you guys but the main reason i am still on tumblr in 2024 is BECAUSE it is the most cloutless least influential social media app out there and that is the experience i am after. absolutely none of this will ever translate into significant attention or real success in my life and that is so beautiful.
this story is meant to be open-ended and vague. a collection of scenarios between simon and his mail-ordered bride.
cw: this piece isn't necessarily nsfw or dark, but i will not promise it won't contain these themes as these pieces are literally posted on the spot with random prompts (18+)
OOH! Simon coming home from a mission, and he's just exhausted, like out of his mind. But he comes home to find pregnant reader and their son, and it's like the horrors of the mission he was on just fade away instantly.
(P.s. Also, can he learn the sex of his baby too? Like...reader surprises Simon with it?)
oh, how i love domestic!simon😭 and i love gender reveals lmao
(masterlist)
REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!
his feet feel heavy as he passes the threshold of his house, dropping his duffle bag with a loud thud. finally. he was home. he could already hear the babbling of his son, smiling at the faint noise.
„did you hear that?“ your muffled voice sounds. „i think daddy‘s home.“ all he can hear after is a happy scream before his son crashes into his legs, clawing at his pants. simon laughs and bends down to pick the little boy up.
„hey champ,“ he grins while pressing a kiss to boy‘s temple. „how‘re ya?“
„mummy said we‘ll go eat nuggies when you back!“ he beams at his dad, clapping his hands. before simon can answer he hears you chuckle, waddling towards him.
you’re belly keeps growing and it was getting harder for you to walk day by day. „hey honey,“ you smile at him, getting on your tippy toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. „i‘ve missed you.“
„missed y’too mama,“ he mumbles against your lips, pulling you closer with his free hand on your waist. „how‘re y’nd the little bean?“ he asks when he pulls away, carefully brushing your belly.
simon could feel the tension leave his shoulders when you start to smile and his son starts to play with his short hair. „i‘m doing just fine. and our little girl is too.“ his eyes widen at your statement while you just look up at him.
„say that again?“ he gasps, careful not to drop his boy. „say that again love.“
you grin, your hand resting on your belly. „what? that our little girl is doing fine?“
„are you for real?“ he still can‘t believe it, only staring at you with wide eyes. for a second you were afraid they‘d pop out of his skull.
„have i ever lied to you simon?“ you tease, laughing when he pulls you in again to kiss the life out of you.
you can see tears in his eyes when he breaks the kiss, „i‘m gonna be a girl dad?“ you nod with a chuckle, full on laughing when your son tries to gain his dad‘s attention by pulling his hair.
„want a kiss too,“ he pouts and who is simon to deny him? he plants a big kiss onto the boy’s cheek and grins. the child laughs and claps his hands, snuggling up against his father‘s shoulder.
„he‘s gonna be an amazing brother,“ you smile while you lean against your husband, savouring the moment…
You really think she’s your girl. My brother in Christ she’s up in here every night twirling her hair and kicking her feet to the raunchiest “x reader” COD smut on the planet.
141 gossiping about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley for roughly 3,000 words idk titles are hard
Price was the first to notice. Priding himself on being incredibly observant, especially when it came to his boys.
He noticed that whenever they had a break from trainings or meetings, he’d somehow always find the two of you in a room together. Never close enough to give him reason to say anything. You scribbling notes on a patient report at one table, Ghost at another, his chair angled just enough so that he could watch you from the corner of his eye.
Noticed the way Ghost’s hand rested on the small of your back for a heartbeat when you entered a doorway before him. Just a brush of his massive hand on you, quick enough to be mistaken for an accidental touch.
Noticed how Ghost’s eyes seemed to always flick to you from across the mess hall. Not often, but enough for Price to casually turn his head and see that same nurse Ghost seemed to have a preference for.
At first, Price thought he could help by being a wingman of sorts. When Ghost took damage on a mission, Price would escort him to medbay and watch as he dismissed nurse after nurse until you were finally available to treat him. Price lingered as long as he could before you inevitably waved him away, cheekily reminding him you always took good care of his team and that you’d have ‘Lieutenant Riley’ back in no time. The only thing he could catch was the way Ghost’s shoulders relaxed by a hair’s breadth when you drew the curtain shut behind you.
He tried again during a meeting with his boys. Suggesting they bring a medic on a mission with them. Said something about how it would be better to have the option of a patch-up readily available. Keep his team fighting fit in real time instead of having to wait until they came back to base. Price saw the way Ghost tensed slightly in his seat, the muscles in his jaw twitching under his balaclava.
The notion was quickly vetoed. Ghost grumbling something about not wanting to babysit any more than he already does. How it’s ultimately more paperwork he doesn’t want to have to deal with.
He tried once more, going to Ghost’s office one evening. Almost turning tail once he realized how ridiculous it was to be this insistent on figuring out if his Lieutenant had some boyish crush on the sweet nurse he always seemed to be lingering around. But ultimately decided that it was good practice to know more about his team personally. Better bonding meant better interaction on the field, right?
He asked Ghost to redo some paperwork. Add a ‘next of kin’ to his file in the event that something happened and they needed to alert someone. Ghost looked a little suspicious, shrugging off the request.
“Left it off for a reason, Captain.”
He said gruffly, waving a hand. Barely looking up from his desk.
Price pursed his lips, shifting his weight slightly.
“You sure, Simon? Haven’t got anyone that’d be interested to know what happened to you?”
Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose, like the conversation was more trouble than it was worth, before shrugging once more. Finally looking up from his desk and leaning back slightly in his chair.
“You planning on shipping me off somewhere and not picking me back up?”
A small chuckle from Price. A shake of his head.
“Can’t say I am.”
“Cheers, then. Leave it off.”
This quelled Price’s curiosity for a while, unable to dream up any other reason to try and force Ghost to indulge him. It no doubt hurt his ego a bit, thinking about how his Lieutenant and one of his closest friends was so dead set on keeping his personal life so closely guarded. He’d push the feelings aside, chalk it up to being jaded by his work. Over-involved in the lives of Soap and Gaz. It was probably good for Simon to have something sacred.
Soap wasn’t as easily deterred once he caught on. Not as immediately perceptive as the others, but he knew Ghost well enough to know his tells.
It was after a long mission. Months long. Grueling, shitty, exhausting work. They got back in the early evening, mercifully spared from a debrief until the following day. Soap somehow ended up dragging Ghost to a dive bar a few blocks from base. Trying to sound persuasive when he mentioned that it was a Friday night and they deserved a few drinks and some female attention after all this time going without.
And they did get attention. Two good looking military men sitting at the bar were bound to. Soap knew that Ghost wasn’t one to play the field, but this was a bit frigid even for him. Ignoring girls who came up and tried to strike conversation. Rolling his eyes, or huffing a sigh like it was a chore to even dismiss them, drumming his fingers on the wall of his glass like he’s bored. It was baffling.
What was even more baffling was the way that Ghost’s knee bounced slightly against the stool. An infinitesimally small movement, but the way it caught Johnny’s eye made it seem like Ghost was all but jumping up and down. He looked almost anxious. Itching to get up and leave.
“Fuck’s wrong with you?”
Ghost’s head jerked toward Johnny, cold eyes narrowing in a way that would have been terrifying years ago- before he’d gotten used to it.
“Come again?”
“Got somewhere to be, have you?”
He sounds almost indignant. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ghost is stand-offish by nature, but this is a caliber he hasn’t yet encountered. Almost enough to be offensive. To make him question the quality of his company.
“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”
Ghost grumbled, killing the contents of his glass with a final mouthful. Setting it back on the counter and moving to drum his fingers on the bar.
“Been out of the country for months and you expect me to believe you’ve got plans tonight?”
This earned a sigh, low enough to pass as a growl.
“You keeping my social calendar now, then?”
He stood, digging through his wallet for a moment before slapping some cash down on the table next to his empty glass. Not giving Johnny an opportunity to lodge any further complaints against him. Before he nodded his goodnight and slipped out of the bar. Mumbling something about needing to get back to his flat and check on some things.
Soap couldn’t get his mind around it. Ghost was elusive, sure, but again; something seemed off. He was calm, cool, and collected. Wouldn’t be caught dead manifesting his impatience physically. The fidgeting and twitching in his seat. The first place Soap’s mind went was maybe Ghost was dying? That’d be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. But even then, it seemed a bit extreme.
The next day after the debrief, which was nearly as brutal as the deployment itself, Soap was still so in his head about Ghost’s behavior he almost didn’t notice the pretty nurse who seemed to be waiting for someone at the end of the hall. In fact, he was so stuck in his own mind, he only caught a fleeting glimpse of Ghost’s back rounding the corner with the nurse at his side. Hushed conversation disappearing with them. A softer, much more pleasant voice than Simon’s.
He debated whether or not to follow them, maybe answer the questions that’d been plaguing his mind. Ultimately, he decided in favor of it. Padding down the hall behind the duo who seemed to be headed back to Simon’s office. They weren’t walking closely enough to touch, but Soap immediately picked up on the tension between them. Like the distance was serving some sort of purpose.
Soap lingered in the hallway for a few minutes after the two disappeared into Ghost’s office, trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle he’d barely began collecting. He ultimately decided to go the route he was most comfortable with. Not one for sneaking about, he simply strode up to the office door and swung it open.
You were sat at one of the chairs in front of Simon’s desk, him standing with his arms folded over his chest next to you. Not compromising enough for Johnny’s taste, but he still put on a wide grin and nodded to you.
“Forget how to knock?”
Ghost’s voice was calm enough, but his eyes were shooting daggers straight through Johnny. You looked stiff as a board, chewing the inside of your lip through the tight smile you were giving him.
“Sorry, L.T. Needed to know if you’re still on for trainings this afternoon.”
He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to Ghost, communicating something that he couldn’t quite decipher wordlessly before you began studying your nails in your lap.
Ghost cleared his throat, rolling his tongue in his cheek. Growling something obscene under his breath. The agitation rolling off of him in waves.
“No. Got another assignment.”
And with that, Soap was all but thrown from the office. Querying about this ‘new assignment’ the whole way. Simon crowding him to the door until he finally snapped it shut on his nose.
He heard later that day Ghost was seen in medbay with a toolkit swearing at an X-Ray machine that had been giving you trouble for a month. After that, Soap was on the two of you like a fly on shit. Never missing an opportunity to bring you up to Ghost or vise versa. Mock-innocently saying something to Ghost in passing at dinner about you. Asking if he fancied you. When he said no, Johnny shrugged and nodded. Saying he was glad because he had plans to ask you out the next time he was injured.
That comment landed Soap in the bay sooner than expected. Escorting him to a different nurse’s exam area and standing guard the entire time his black eye was being iced. Berating him for not being able to block a few punches when they had sparred after dinner.
And Gaz, sweet boy that he is, was always more emotionally in-tune. Observant about the little things. Able to pick up on queues Soap and Price may have missed over the years. He was keen as he was quiet, keeping all his little discoveries to himself. Over the years, he’d created a small arsenal of moments he wasn’t sure were significant enough to bring up. Things he could have talked himself into imagining if he thought about them hard enough. Not wanting to jump to conclusions about anything.
But he noticed the incredibly subtle tan line on Ghost’s left hand. Noticed the way he tapped his foot impatiently when the debrief after a long deployment ran long. Noticed the way you always seemed to be around the yard when they touched down after a mission. The way your shoulders dropped when you saw all four of them had returned home. Like you had just been relieved the duty of holding up the sky.
He didn’t immediately connect the dots. Initially thinking that you’d just taken a special liking to the task force. They were some of your most frequent visitors, after all. Price had all but claimed you as their own. Specially requesting that you were the only one to patch their wounds, claiming the other nurses couldn’t hold a flame to your skill.
He didn’t mind. Came to enjoy the little chats the two of you had when the curtains around the cot were drawn. The little kikis you had where you chatted about anything and everything. Complaining about your jobs, irritating patients, botched missions, the morsels of gossip from around base.
One day, after a particularly nasty skirmish on a mission, all four of the men had gnarly wounds. You looked a bit more tired than usual. A bit more on-edge. Your answers were a bit more flat than they usually were. So the first part of the assessment was left mostly silent spare for a few soft “thank you’s” on his part.
It was only when you were bandaging a wound on his thigh did he notice the shape of a ring on your left hand under your glove. A thin band that wrapped neatly around your finger.
“Didn’t know you were married, doc.”
It was a passing comment, more just to spare him the agony of trying to hide his soft groans of pain in the thick silence.
You hummed your acknowledgment, focused more on working sutures through his skin neatly than anything else.
“Lucky bloke. Hope he’s good to you.”
It wasn’t flirty or predatory, like so many of the soldiers could be. A genuine thought. He’d always thought you were sweet. Easy to chat with, always offering him a smile and a chirped greeting when the two of you passed in the hall. Thought you deserved someone to share in your kindness.
You smiled, brow still furrowed slightly in your focus while tying off the stitches.
“He does alright.”
You chuckled softly, straightening on your stool and rolling back just slightly so you could meet his eye.
“All these years and you never mentioned. I’m hurt.”
He words came with a practiced ease, slipping back into your usual playful chatter without missing a beat. Flashing a coy grin as he carefully flexed and relaxed his leg. Getting a feel for the newly patched wound.
You rolled the gloves off your hands and tossed them into the bin. Standing from your stool to scribble a few notes on his chart.
“Not something that ever came up.”
“Now it has. He have a name? How long you been together?”
You chuckled once more, looking over your shoulder at him with an arched brow. A little skeptical of his curiosity.
“A good while.”
He noticed the way you evaded his former question, like you’d done it before. It only fueled his curiosity.
“You worried I’ll know him? Or are you embarrassed? Not much of a looker?”
This earned an amused snort from you, turning away from the chart you’d been working on.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my personal life personal, is there?”
You winked at him, pushing open the curtain that divided the small exam area from the rest of the bay.
He made a small sound of protest, making no move to stand from the cot just yet.
“Alright, forget it. Didn’t even want to know anyway.”
He sounded like a child being denied a sweet. Even playing up the act with a small pout on his mouth.
You tutted softly, conjuring up the best mock-sympathetic look you could before motioning for him to stand.
“We’ll talk later. Captain’ll have my hide if I keep you away a moment longer than is necessary.”
Another sound of protest, followed by a throaty groan as he finally pushed up off the bed. Unsure if he was being dramatic or if the aftermath of the mission had truly gotten to him that bad. Always a flare for the dramatics, him.
He muttered his thanks, cupping your shoulder in his hand as he trudged out. Making you promise to have a proper chat with him later.
He lingered in the bay, allowing himself a few moments peace before getting back to work. Just as he finally turned to leave, he saw Ghost moving stiffly- like he was trying to downplay a limp- toward your little exam area. Though for some reason, the scene looked a bit strange to him. He couldn’t help but peek in.
He caught the way you watched him lumber over with big, worried eyes. The way your nails dug into your palms until he was finally within arms reach. The way you quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention before your hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping expertly under the hem of his mask and yanking it up over his nose. Not rough or angry, but with the kind of urgency that suggested you may die if you didn’t see a sliver of his skin. Make absolutely certain he was truly there with you.
The most jarring part- Ghost actually allowing you to touch the mask. Allowing your little hands to breach his personal space. Hands that would have easily been dwarfed by his own, swallowed up and twisted or shoved away like he had seen happen so many times in sparring matches with prospect soldiers. But Ghost just let it happen.
It was a flurry of movement, so fast that Gaz was certain he could have blinked and missed it. Frozen watching the two of you from just behind another exam area. Feeling like he was intruding without even meaning to.
And then he saw the way Ghost’s big arms snaked around your waist, drawing you flush to his front. You leaning up onto your toes to bring your face closer to the Lieutenant’s. A fervid kiss. You flinging your arms around his neck. The way your shoulders shook. A small, choked sob that Gaz was all but certain he imagined. Drowned out for everyone else by the sounds of the bay.
He was almost shocked that the world continued to move after that. Shocked that something that seemed so monumental could happen tucked away into your barely private exam area. Shocked that your reunion hadn’t halted time and space for everyone else like it had for the two of you.
He felt dirty. Like he should go up and apologize for lingering and seeing what he saw. But he stayed rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move.
Truly the most damning part was when he caught the quickest glimpse of your badge just before the curtain was tugged shut. The badge you kept carefully pinned to your uniform face-down for a reason he couldn’t fathom until now. Twisted free for just a moment and finally connecting the snippets of information he’d collected over the years.
2087
baratheonpilled
dailybridgerton
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
vaporwave
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
