lieutenant!simon riley can’t stay focused knowing reader is waiting for him at home
The safe house is quiet in that way that never really means quiet.
Simon’s back is pressed to the wall, concrete cold even through his kit. Rifle laid across his knees, gloves wrapped around it without thinking. He’s listening, always listening, for the scrape of boots, a breath where there shouldn’t be one, the wrong kind of silence outside the door.
But his head’s not here. It’s a thousand miles away. Warm. Soft. Bare.
He thinks of you without meaning to and then he can’t stop. The way your skin feels under his hands, nothing like the hard edges of weapons and armor. Soft where everything else in his world is sharp. The give of your hips. The warmth at the small of your back when he presses you into the mattress like he’s afraid you'll disappear if he doesn’t keep you there.
Your lips. Christ.
Pink and swollen after he kisses you too long, too hard. The way you tilt her head automatically now, learned, like your body already knows what’s coming when he leans in. He imagines dragging his mouth over yours until you’re breathless, until every sound you makes shoots straight to his cock.
He can almost feel it, your breath slipping into his ear, warm and unguarded. The way you say his name like it belongs to you, like it’s not something everyone else barks or growls or fears. The way you clutch at him like you’re grounding yourself and unraveling him at the same time.
He thinks about burying himself in your tight cunt for hours once he’s home. No urgency. No clocks to watch. Just heat and friction and the way you cling to him like you know exactly how close he lives to the edge.
His grip tightens on the rifle before he realizes it.
This is dangerous. Letting his mind wander like this. Letting it soften. Letting something matter that much.
A voice cuts through the haze. “Ghost.” Price. Low. Sharp.
Simon blinks, the fantasy shattering like glass. The room rushes back in. The dim light, Soap cleaning his weapon across the way, the faint buzz of comms, the ever-present tension sitting heavy in the air.
“Yeah,” Simon answers immediately, spine straightening, thoughts locking back into place.
“Eyes up.” Price says, already turning away.
Simon nods once, jaw tight beneath the skull mask.
Rifle back in his hands. Ears tuned outside. Mind dragged back to the present, kicking and screaming. But the thought lingers anyway.
Home. You.
He thinks about you spread beneath him, breath stuttering, nails scraping into his back like you need him as badly as he needs you.
Survival’s non-negotiable. He’s got somewhere to be.
never knew i needed simon calling reader mama until you mentioned it????? like?????? foaming at the mouth oh my god
Boyfriend!Simon Riley who calls you mama. waking up in the morning? when you try to slip out of bed quietly, moving slowly so Simon can sleep in, his strong arm quickly moves to wrap around your waist. he’s tugging you back down, held snugly against his chest. grunting when you try to squirm away, his grip only tightens. “Quit squirmin’. Settle down, mama.”, he rasps out, rough voice thick with sleep, “Not leavin’ yet, yeah?”
The pub night that followed John’s return wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You weren’t trying to cling to John and put on the “perfect marriage” act anymore and it actually made you upset how much more comfortable your husband seemed with that. You caught yourself watching him more times than you could count and you must have looked a bit hopeless at one point because you suddenly feel a kick at your leg. You look over and make eye contact with Simon who glances over towards the door to signal you to meet him outside.
He leaves first under the guise of having a smoke and after a few minutes you say you’re going to the restroom. You meet him outside and just collapse into his shoulder, sighing deeply.
“Y’ever thought bout divorcing him?”
“Is this your way of telling me to leave him for you?”
Simon shrugs, blowing out a plume of smoke as his hand taps against your hip. “If y’ask me, it’d be an improvement.”
You laugh and pull away from him, giving him a tiny smile before going back inside. The rest of the night, you watch as John talks with the others and acts like you weren’t even there. And it wasn’t just Simon that noticed, Soap and Gaz gave you sympathetic looks every once in a while. They always had after Simon let it slip that he thought Price had changed.
After that conversation about divorce, you spend the next weeks doing any bit of research you could to find a good lawyer and get your assets in order. Then came the time to tell John. He was sitting at the table reading through some paperwork when you come and sit across from him. The nerves were keeping you from saying anything. Any time you opened your mouth you thought you were gonna throw up. So you take a deep breath and just say it.
“I want a divorce.”
John looks up from the forms in front of him and just stares, not saying a word and barely moving a muscle. “Alright.”
“Because I- wait what?” You blink and stare back at him like he just said something insane. “Did you say ‘alright’?”
“Yeah. No point in fightin when I want it, too.” He looks back down and keeps on reading, not even bothering to ask what made you come to that decision.
“Oh.”
The divorce process was long but the act itself was…easy? So easy that it was the hardest thing you’d ever done. You and John had decided that you’d keep the small house you’d bought together and he’d move closer to the base since you had no reason to go anywhere.
He was out before you knew it and you just looked around at the empty spaces on the walls where your wedding photos once hung. Rectangles that were blocked from dust and dirt all those years brighter than any other spot on the wall. You should have been happy, you were single and could actually be with Simon without having to sneak around anymore. But for some reason there was the weight of a failed marriage crushing you.
“Shit…” you mutter, walking around the house and blinking tears away when you see all the spots worn down by John. The dip in the couch cushion where he sat, the way the mattress was slightly crooked from his weight. You clear your throat to try and keep the tears back when you hear the front door open. It was Simon.
“Hey love, I brought takeout from that place y’like.” When you don’t answer, he scans the room and slowly makes his way through the house. “Love?”
“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you walk out of the room and wrap your arms around his neck to cling to him. “I was just looking at everything. It’s weird, ya know? It already felt like I was living alone before everything but…”
You trail off and look up at Simon, hoping he would figure out what you were trying to say. He hums quietly and nods. “I know.”
He holds up the bag of takeout and leads you to the living room, sitting on the couch and taking out the boxes and utensils. You eat together in relative silence, the sound of the tv filling the emptiness. It was a comfortable silence for once, you didn’t feel the need to try and force conversation with someone who didn’t want any part in it.
A year goes by since the divorce and you don’t really see or hear about John anymore. You’ll ask Simon how missions went and he’ll tell you, John’s name coming and going in passing but not much else. Simon moved in pretty quick and the both of you decided against making your relationship super known, Simon telling Gaz and Soap about the woman in his life but never dropping your name. Somehow you still wanted to save John the embarrassment. He didn’t even know you were seeing anyone period.
Despite that, you and Simon ended up so disgustingly in love it was actually kind of beautiful. He kept a photo of you in his tac vest and you kept a photo of him in a little locket he gifted you because he thought you’d find it pretty. You’d expressed your fears regarding getting married again, not wanting to end up a double divorcee but Simon didn’t mind. He called you his wife anyway. And he kept a ring for you in his drawer if the day ever came that you’d change your mind. He’d actually been keeping it since that first kiss you shared.
ghost who is soooo sensitive. like crazy sensitive. he struggles not to cum instantly when he's inside you because you just feel so good. so warm and wet and tight and fuck, he's cumming.
and when he cums, he cums. dumps bucket loads inside you. his voice gets all high and whiny when he cums, too. his hips jerking and his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck bc he's so embarrassed that he came before you even started.
the best thing about his sensitivity tho is that he can go again once he's finished cumming. doesn't matter if he's barely finished emptying his balls, he's going again, mouth on yours as he thrusts his sticky, cum-covered cock into you.
Imagine being a light weight and going out with boyfriend!Ghost and the rest of the 141. You were a little nervous at first because you know how you can get if you drink to much, but you trust ghost to get you home safely if need be.
The boys end up convincing you to do shots and next thing you know you are up dancing begging for Ghost to come dance with you. You are nasty with it. Not caring who sees or about the fact that the rest of the 141 are there. Gaz is laughing his ass off, Price is just smirking in the corner and Johnny is trying not to look at your provocative display.
Ghost is used to this by now. He lets you dance for a while and entertains your thoughts. Eventually he herds you out of the bar.
Ghost ends up having to carry you out over his shoulder while you whine out wanting to go back in to back.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who at the start of the relationship wasn’t sure how to act around you, not because he didn’t like physical contact or spending time with you, God, he wanted nothing more than to enter his way into every nook and cranny of your life and ruin you for everyone else that could come after him (he would never allow another man to enter your life) but he didn’t want to irrupt your life that way from the start, he was a patient man after all, he would make you crave his presence.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who is “caught off guard” when you start to ask him to stay over, claiming you didn’t want to be alone and that you missed him too much at night to let him leave, besides is late and too dangerous for him to go back home (he is type of dangerous man your parents warn you about when walking alone on the streets) and he as the oh-so-amazing-boyfriend he is obliged to your request, not wanting his pretty girl to get sad.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who really tries to make you happy despite loving when you get sad and cry like a kicked puppy, it’s truly a sight for sore eyes, at least ones as empty and sinister as his. And yeah, maybe he gives you the silent treatment just to watch you follow him around and beg for attention he would gladly give you if you didn’t look as good as you do when desperate and whiny for him.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who lures you into falling right into trap after trap to get what he wants from you, a dirty pantie in the laundry basket? Why don’t you go fetch him the rest of the dirty clothes from the bedroom while he loads the washer for you? putting the dirty pair of underwear in his front pocket when you leave the laundry room.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows he is going to lose the shame sooner or later, but now it’s too early to do so, he doesn’t want you to think he is creepy (he is beyond creepy, mentally fucked up in every sense) he loves you after all, and he wants to know your smell, your taste and much more, what a better start than a dirty pair of panties to begin knowing you more in detail.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who sometimes does feel guilty, not for what he does, sees nothing wrong with stealing dirty underwear and pressing it to his nose while jerking off (sometimes licking them), that’s a way of loving you when you aren’t around. He feels guilty at times because you don’t know this “lovely” part of him, you should know every corner of his mind the same way he does yours. and maybe it's easier for him because you're so fucking dumb in the best way possible, giving him unlimited access to every detail about you if he just asks while kissing your neck or calling you an equally as dumb nickname.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who wants nothing more in this world than to corrupt you till there’s no space in your brain not plagued by memories of him, fucking you, loving you, making you cry, everything. He wants you to see him as the definition of love and pain and be addicted to his sadistic nature.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows really fucking well how sick in the head he is for wanting to ruin such a pretty little thing like you, but in his mind, he is practically making you a favor, he shows you just how ugly the world can get it at times, protects you from it even, and in return you love him unconditionally, keeping your head empty, letting him take full control of you so you don’t have to worry about anything.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows you sometimes doubts the legitimacy of his “good intentions” but is quick to shut down every question you have with manipulative words that sound pretty and full of love. He doesn’t mean to be so manipulative though, he really wants you to see his true intentions but if anything that could make you less docile to him, try to find a way out of the apartment now the two of you call home. It truly is for the best if you don’t know what occurs in his sick mind, at least for him it was the best.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who despite being a manipulative piece of shit does indeed love you and goes out of his way to make room for you in his life the best he can. He actually started using his PTO days to spend more time with you, he had prioritized his job and would never take days off if it wasn’t strictly necessary, but with you now being part of his life (therefore part of him) he knew he had to make good used of the vacation days he had available to love you and coddle you.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who has a high salary because of his rank and years serving as an SAS soldier, he is well off, to say the least, and has never been one to spend money on anything, except on you that is. Because he wants to spoil you the best he can, he knows your background and that you didn’t exactly come from money, just another middle-class suburban family who lived comfortably but not well off. but the way he goes about spoiling you is so fucking creepy, buys you clothes he knows are way too revealing for you to feel comfortable wearing outside, and spends way too much money on sex toys he knows he’ll have to basically coerce you into trying them.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who is extremely kinky and loves to be the one in power (in and out of the bedroom) he knows you were never given the sex talk though, barely gave your first kiss in 8th grade before your parents found out and put you in an all-girls school so you didn’t get distracted from studying, so to say the least, you were a virgin when entering the relationship. Ghost like the fucking creep he is loves that about you.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who loves the fact you’re a virgin so much he cannot help but tease you about it, physically and mentally with lingering touches and teasing comments to rile you up only to deny you right after. “Taking your virginity would be like cutting an angel's wing, can’t do that to ya’ lovie” he so fucking cockily says, arms crossed over his chest and his voice gruff, looking down at you, and you know he’s smirking under his mask.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who wants you to beg for his cock, wants to have you on your knees, begging for him to take your virginity, he’s the only man in your life after all, the one you plan to marry and devote your soul and life to (you better devote your life to him) He is playing the long game, both torturous and pleasuring because when the time is right, he is going to fuck you till you can’t remember nothing but his name and can’t walk away from him.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who waited a lot of fucking time (like a lot) to finally get you where he wanted, it does come by surprise though. he is used to you sitting on his lap, tugging his belt, and asking him to try to go further. he always rejected you though. wanting you utterly desperate. what he hadn’t taken into account is what you did in the meantime, every time he shut you down. sooner he discovered what you did. The image of you, straddling a stuffed animal he bought you at the beginning of your relationship pressed against your cunt as you humped it like a bitch in heat, soft mewls, and moans leaving your lips, and ghost didn’t want to interrupt you, having too much fun looking at you cry from overstimulation as you struggled to make yourself come. but then you moaned out his name, his real name and the urge to fuck you senseless became too much to ignore this time.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who opens the bedroom door fully but doesn’t enter, only calling out to you to see the face of panic you would get at being caught “What are ya doin’ lovie?” he saw the way your hips stopped moving, your face full of embarrassment and your doe eyes teary, from shame or overstimulation? he didn’t care, you look pretty either way. he hears you struggle to answer him, too fucking dumb to even think of an excuse to give him.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who doesn’t care to wait for an answer after you don't speak for almost a minute, choosing to take matters into his own hands and do what he had been wanting to do since the beginning.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who doesn’t care enough to warn you before he is grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you towards the end of the bed, flipping you on your back and hovering over you with a dark look in his eyes that send shivers down your spine, he looked fucking possessed (can’t you blame him though?) as he looks down at your panties, the fabric soaked and covered in your slick, the sight makes him want to groan out loud.
he had never expected you to be so filthy in the cutest of ways, I mean really, humping a stuffed animal he gave you, could you really be more desperate than that? he wishes he had caught you sooner, but he guessed you only really touched yourself when he wasn’t home or at least busy enough to not come into the bedroom, either way, he couldn’t care less right now, not when he had you under him all flustered and shy yet clearly frustrated from not having come yet.
“you should’ve come to me dovie” he says, pressing his hands on your clothed cunt, spreading your slick on your thighs before his fingers began softly rubbing your clit, his lips finding their way into your neck and leaving wet kisses all over the exposed skin. ”could’ve made you feel so good if you had just asked nicely", he mutters against your skin, a small sob coming from you making him break into a smile, lifting his head and looking at your flushed face, tears running down your face as you whimpered.
you sniffled, thighs twitching as his fingers don’t stop rubbing circles over your overstimulated clit. “didn’t wanna bother you Si..” he hears you mumble, a content sigh leaving his lips at your words before he leaning down and kissing you on the lips, not caring to reassure you he wouldn’t have been bothered if you came to him horny and looking for release. you had to look for it alone, so fucking dumb you were.
“gotta punish you now, sweetness…went behind my back and touched what's mine” he says against your lips, his free hand moving to grab a fistful of your hair and pulling it slightly, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden touch. “dumb little bitch you were, huh” he added not even three seconds later, his comment making your heart clench, you didn’t want to disappoint him, never. couldn’t bear the thought of doing something he didn’t approve of when he basically controlled your entire life by now. Before you knew it, Ghost was pounding into you with a brutal pace, the tip of his hard cock reaching your cervix and hitting it continuously, dragging moans of pleasure mixed with pain, struggling to take all of him while he forced his way in.
your legs were on his shoulder while pinned you down with his weight, leaving no opportunity for you to move away from him, forced to take everything he gave you “Filthy girl, so needy and not even able to take all my cock” he said, grabbing once again a fistful of your hair and pulling on it more roughly, forcing your head off the bed while he littered your neck with bite marks and bruises, “ can’t expect much from a dumb bitch like you” he continued to insult you while he bullied his cock into your pussy, loud moans leaving your lips, so cock-drunk you couldn’t even formulate a response.
his thrust became harder and harder, a frantic pace that began creating a tighter and tighter feeling on your lower stomach, you dug your nails into his back, scratching him when suddenly the knot on your stomach snapped, your orgasm ripping through your body, making your hips twitch to try and get away from Ghost as he continued to fuck into you overstimulating you. “I can’t.. s’too much! too much!” you said between moans, sobs following soon after while another knot began forming rapidly.
Ghost could feel you clench around him, your slick from your orgasm wetting his cock and thighs even more, making it easy to thrust into you while your walls sucked him in with a vice grip. he felt himself get closer to coming, one of his hands moving to your neck, choking you while the other moved to your clit, drawing tight circles that force a last orgasm out of you. “gonna fill you up, dovie, ruin your pussy for every bastard you meet after me” Ghost groans, quickening his pace, his balls slapping against your ass before he finally gives one last powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside you and filling you with his load, groaning on the crook of your neck while he feels your pussy spam around him, milking him dry.
Ghost sits up on the bed, your legs falling from his shoulders onto the bed, your body entirely spent as he watches your hips twitch, tears stains on your cheeks while your eyes are half closed, tired and overstimulated “Did so good for me, lovie..such a pretty girl you are” Ghost mutters, pulling out and watching as his cum spills out of your cunt onto the bed sheets, a wicked smile on his lips as he looks down at his dick, dry blood on part of his skin.
CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who took your fucking virginity after begging him for almost a year of dating and absolutely broke you apart because of how hard he fucked you. (Maybe next time he'll have you gagging on his cock)
i'm in a fluffy mood today enjoy this short drabble
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
boyfriend!simon who is dotting and anticpates all your needs. he draws a warm, bubbly bath for you to unwind after a long and grueling day. he meets you at the door, helping you slip off your shoes and hang up your purse. you give him an inquisitive look and all he says is, "let me take care of you, love."
boyfriend!simon who insists on taking care of you when you're sick, he pulls out all the stops to help you feel better. he tucks you into bed and fluffs up all your pillows for you, kissing your head lovingly before going into the kitchen to make you your favorite comfort food. simon, who isn't the most competent in the kitchen, but will jump through all the hoops looking up recipes and getting all the right ingredients to make you feel at home.
it gets tense when boyfriend!simon and girlfriend!reader unknowingly run into John Price at the grocery store
The butcher’s counter smells wrong. Too clean, too cold. Simon stands there with his arms crossed, eyeing the lineup behind the glass — the marbling’s off, the cuts uneven. Amateurs, he thinks, jaw ticking. He spent enough years breaking down carcasses to know when someone’s phoning it in.
Still, he grabs two ribeyes — best of the sorry lot — and mutters a quiet, “Could d' worse,” before heading back toward the produce aisle where he left you. You’re meant to be picking out vegetables, humming under your breath like you always do when you’re trying to decide between two kinds of herbs you’ll probably forget to use.
He hears your voice before he sees you. Soft. Polite.
That tone you use with strangers when you’re trying to be kind.
Simon slows, brow furrowing. He rounds the corner, hand tightening around the basket’s handle and stops dead.
You’re there, buggy parked sideways in the middle of the aisle, smiling up at a man in civvies. Brown jacket. Broad shoulders. Facial hair. Familiar stance.
Captain John Price.
Simon’s stomach drops clean through him.
For a heartbeat, he just stares — silent, still, like a bow pulled taut. Price hasn’t noticed him yet he’s too busy making you laugh. And Christ, you’re laughing. Hand brushing your hair back, bright-eyed, completely unaware of who you’re talking to.
His throat goes dry. He doesn’t mix work and personal life — not since you. Especially since you. He made damn sure of it. But the sight of his captain standing in front of you, smiling easy as you please, feels like watching two universes collide in real time.
Price catches sight of him first. His eyes widen just a touch — surprise, then understanding flickering in that split-second recognition.
“Simon?” he calls, voice carrying easily down the aisle.
Simon considers if it's too late to turn back.
Price’s grin is already forming when he starts toward him, easy and unbothered as ever, pushing his cart like this is any other chance encounter. And you, caught in the middle, turn at the sound — eyes bright, smile soft, none the wiser of the storm brewing just a few paces behind you.
The realization hits a second later, a quick jolt in your chest. The man you’d just nearly run over with your cart knows your boyfriend. And suddenly, you’re the only one who doesn’t understand what’s happening.
Simon keeps walking, closing the gap one steady step at a time. Each thud of his boots on the tile sounds too loud, too final. His pulse thuds in his ears.
He hates the picture in front of him. You standing there next to Price, the man who’s seen him at his ugliest. The one who’s watched him wade through blood and ruin, who’s heard the worst things he’s ever said and still called him mate.
You, his precious little thing, all warmth and light and softness, smiling up at the man he’s brought so much death with.
And Price — bloody Price — looks from you to him, that knowing expression tightening around his mouth like he can already feel the imaginary lines he’s just crossed.
Simon stops in front of him, every movement measured. “Price.”
He says it flatly — no smile, no warmth — and extends a hand. Price catches the cue, clasping it firmly, eyes flicking over Simon’s shoulder like he’s recalibrating the whole scene.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Price says, voice even but cautious now. “Small world, eh?”
Simon only hums, jaw tight. “Somethin’ like that.”
You edge closer, curiosity outweighing sense, cart wheels squeaking softly against the tile. The air between them feels strange — heavier than it should for two old friends running into each other. You look between them, catching the way Simon’s posture stiffens even further the nearer you get.
Price notices it too. His brows draw together just a little, concern cutting through the easy grin he’d worn a moment ago. He glances at you, then back to Simon.
“And this would be…?” he asks lightly, leaving the question open, polite.
Simon’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t look at you right away — can't — just gives the smallest nod in your direction.
Your name falls out of his mouth quietly. Rough, like gravel. No label.
Price’s gaze follows, lingering on you for a moment before returning to Simon. Something in his expression shifts — the kind of understanding that doesn’t need words. His shoulders ease, and a faint, knowing smile ghosts across his face.
“Right,” he says quietly.
“Didn’t mean t’interrupt.”
For a long second, neither of them moves. Price studies him, and there’s something softer in his eyes now — a quiet sort of pride. A life. A home. A family. Things Simon never really had growing up, and now he’s building them with his own hands, however clumsily. Of course he’d guard that like his own skin. Of course he wouldn’t want anyone from that other world anywhere near it.
Simon just nods once, stiff and silent, and Price lets it go.
Price gives a last small nod, looking like he’s about to move on, but you beat him to it. The question tumbles out before you can stop it - light, curious, a little too bright to cover the uneasy thrum under your skin.
“So… how do you two know each other?” You glance between them, Price still warm and polite, Simon stiff as a board beside you. You already have a hunch, one that sits heavy in your stomach, but you want to hear it said out loud.
Price’s smile flickers, easy but careful. “We’ve worked together, here and there,” he says, voice gentler now, like he’s trying to smooth over something sharp.
“Yeah, cross paths sometimes,” Simon says, his eyes finally meeting yours under the harsh lights. They’re pleading for you not to ask anything else, to let it go. So you do, despite the curiosity gnawing at you like a caged animal.
Price nods once, understanding passing silently between them. Then his eyes soften when he looks at Simon again — something almost fond there, hidden beneath the professionalism. He’s secretly glad, you can tell. Glad to see Simon standing here in a grocery store of all places, with a cart half-full and a pretty woman at his side.
“Right,” Price says finally, clearing his throat. “Well. Don’t let me keep you two.”
He gives you a polite smile and a small tilt of his head before rolling his cart past.
You watch Price disappear around the corner, his trolley rattling softly over the tile, and the silence he leaves behind feels too heavy for a supermarket. Simon still hasn’t moved. His jaw’s tight, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on nothing.
You open your mouth, starting to ask—something, anything to break the tension. “Is he-,”
But he beats you to it, voice low and rough. “Not now, love. Let’s get home, yeah? I’m starved.”
It’s not a dismissal, not really. Just a retreat. A man trying to rebuild the walls that cracked a little too wide.
You nod, fingers curling around the trolley handle as you fall into step beside him. You know better than to press when his world’s bleeding into yours — when the stranger he never lets you meet slips out, and for a split second, you don’t recognize him. The way his shoulders square, the way his eyes go distant. It’s like watching him retreat behind a mask you can’t see this time but can feel.
So you let it go. For now.
I like to think this is a fun little extension of the boyfriend!simon gets pissed when his girlfriend!reader asks him to put on his mask when he gets home from deployment universe. I think Simon would love so fiercely that he would try to erase that part of himself with you, and this - this is his worst nightmare.
pt.3 here
