Imagine!! Simon being an absolute menace when he's drunk. He would down shot after shot until he is tripping on his own feet. And mind you - it takes a lot to make this mountain of a man drunk. Today was special, it was celebration of a mission with zero casualities and every soldier returning unharmed. So everyone was getting piss drunk. Soap was busy flirting with the cute bartender, Gaz was throwing his boots away to show them "special moves I learnt on Youtube". Price was busy ordering drinks and stressing over the bill.
And oh the moment Ghost spots you in club - you must run before he catches you. You try to walk away to a different spot with other medics but he was even faster when drunk.
He grabs you from behind glaring at others to walk away - like a dog who found his owner after getting lost in dog park.
"Hm..hurh...woman don't squirm. Stop wiggling like a fish" he would bury his face in your neck while you try to pry his hands away from your shoulders.
"Sir. You need to go home and sleep"
"Hush no. Where's fun in that. Wanna dance with my wife".
"I'm not your wife Sir I'm your medic-
"Future wife" he slurs before collapsing on the nearest couch pulling you by your elbows to sit besides him.
"Think I'm getting old to dance" he pulls his mask above his nose to drink another glass only for you to snatch it away.
The bastard would grin and chuckle when you try to make him sit straight. He knows he is too big for you to manhandle.
"You're too small for a medic" he mumbles reaching out to caress your cheeks with his knuckles. For a man who washed his hands after a handshake, he always wanted to touch you when he gets piss drunk. Even if it's a gentle tap on shoulders, or an arm on your back and a hand around your waist whenever a civilian man would try approaching you.
"Sir uh people are seeing, you're their Lt" you prop him on couch as he intentionally lets go of his body-control to have you fussing. He was not even trying!!!
"And you're my woman...my wo woman... they can piss off if it bothers them. Let me show you off" he says smiling ear to ear...Gods his brown eyes look so sweet when he's drunk. This is the closest he has ever been...the moment he is sober - he would go back to being a grump who would rather shove his dick in a grinder than admit his feelings.
So you pull out your phone to make a video of him as evidence. Maybe you can send this on the groupchat for boys to see. And maybe this will embarass him enough to finally admit he likes you (a lot).
You gasp as he pulls you into his lap spreading his thighs wider for you to sit comfortably. You could feel his roomkeys poking your thighs and you wince. He hears it and puts his palm beneath your thigh moving you closer to him..his thumbs stroking the skin they held so gently you could've cried then and there.
"Now record...this angle's better isn't it princess" he mumbles shoving his face in your hair.
"My sweetest angel, my blessing"
You laugh and press record on your phone and move it higher to see his face - he was smiling like a baby and sniffing your hair.
After few seconds, the moment you set your phone aside - you hear a groan. The big respectable Lieutanant of 141, whom everyone fears is now asleep and snoring in public. His head was thrown back as his lips part open...some whiskey on the corners making them glossy. His hands loosely wrapped around your waist and thighs to keep you on his lap even in sleep.
Soap and Gaz had to carry him out of the club and shove his ass in the jeep back to base while listening to his drunken words all the way - "My wife made me drinkk sooo much". "Bagged the prettiest woman ever, bet she's hidinggg her wiiinggs".
Oh he would have the worst day in his life when he sees the video on group - maybe he should face the truth afterall.
A/N : This is a shorter blurb. Just a sweet fic. Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. Enjoy 🌷🌷🌷
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"Dad!"
Simon freezes mid-step, eyes locking onto his teen son, Tommy, standing by the mirror in an actual nice shirt. Hair done. Ironed shirt???? Shoes clean. The audacity.
"No" Simon says immediately. "Nope. Not happenin."
Tom groans. "Oh my God–"
"You’re too young for this shite" Simon grumbles, folding his arms. "Dates, ribbons, lookin’ all smug."
"I’m eighteen, Dad" Tom huffs, struggling to tie a ribbon onto the tulip bouquet. "I can handle one date. And before you start–she planned it."
Simon squints. "She planned it."
"Yes."
"She initiated."
Simon clicks his tongue. "Red flag already. You."
You come downstairs tying your hair up in a bun, drawn by the raised voices. "Why do I hear arguing before dinner. Are u interrogating him Si?"
Simon jerks his thumb at Tom. "Because your son’s off gallivantin’."
"I’m going on a date" Tom corrects.
You blink. "A date...a date-date?” Your eyes drop to the tulips. “What are you giving her, Tom?"
"Uh… it’s just flowers, tulips."
You gasp like you’ve been stabbed in the heart. "Oh my God, that’s so cute for a first date, baby!" You rush over and squish his cheeks hard.
"Maa–stawp" Tom whines. "You’re gonna ruin my jawline!"
"It doesn’t work like that" you laugh. He’s massive now–broad, tall, solid. Simon's hair and build but your eyes...jesus he was not your chubby baby anymore. But you still wanted to squish his cheeks everyday. You actually have to tiptoe just to reach his face. Rude. You grab the bouquet– "Give me this."
You retie the ribbon neatly. "So, where are you taking her? Italian? Chinese? Indian? Or that new–"
"Jesus, Mum" Tom cuts in. "It’s not a food date."
Simon perks up. "Not a food date?"
"It’s a cafe" Tom says. "Coffee. Pastries. That’s it."
You stare waiting for him to continue
"…That’s it?"
"A coffee date?" Simon scoffs. "That’s not even a date, that’s a break. What will ye eat."
"A date’s a date, baby" you say, pinching Tom’s cheeks again. He hisses. "It’s a trick for blushing."
Tom grabs his jacket. "You’re both unbearable."
As he heads out, Simon stops him with a hand on his shoulder, voice dropping.
"Oi. Kid."
Tom sighs. "Yeah?"
"Don’t do any of that… stuff."
"Ew, Dad. No. Ew."
"It’s natural–" Simon mumbles as you sideye him trying to listen what he was saying.
"Dad. No.Ew."
Tom fake-gags dramatically. Simon snorts and ruffles his hair.
"Text when you get there. And do not make her cry. I don't care if yer my son" Simon mutters.
"I will be careful dad.." Tom says. "Bye, mum" he winks at you rushing out before Simon could stop him again.
Door shuts.
Later, Simon comes back inside to find you curled up on the couch, munching wafers.
He sinks down beside you with a heavy sigh. "Mad, innit. Kid’s all grown up. Doin’ dates and all that."
"Yeah…" You pause. "But a coffee date, Si? I thought we raised him better."
Simon smirks, arm slipping around your waist. "You remember our first date?"
You smile. "Yeah. How could I forget?"
"I was shittin’ myself" he admits. "Didn’t know what women liked. Thought too hard about it."
"I nearly died eating tacos" he says solemnly. "But you...you ate an entire plate and kept burpin’ like a gremlin."
You smack his arm. "I did not."
"Oh, you did" he laughs. "Had to undo the buttons on that cute little skirt you were wearin’. Thought it’d pop."
"You made me eat it all" you huff.
"And you loved it" he grins. "Then I took you to that lake. Ice cream everywhere."
You soften, smiling. "Yeah…you and me."
You laugh and then realise - "You gave me tulips too!!!!"
"Yeah" he grins sheepishly. "Didn’t know if a flower would like flowers as a gift. Thought I’d messed it right up."
"But then you held onto one of em all throughout the night didn't ya dove" he whispers tracing your nose.
"And look at us now" you say softly.
"Yeah" Simon murmurs. "Look at us."
He leans in, eyes warm, like he’s about to kiss you–
–and instead reaches over, steals a wafer, and bites it.
"I WILL KILL YOU SIMON RILEY" you shriek.
He’s already laughing, backing toward the bedroom. "Come kill me in bed then. We don't have much time. Kid’ll be back in an hour if it’s good."
You follow him, laughing. "Or half an hour, knowing him."
His laughter echoes down the hall.
You rush throwing the wafers on table, catching upto him as he pulls you into bedroom.
