Does Anybody Know The Fic Where Its An Alternate Universe Where Simon Went To Jail And Became Ur Penpal

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.

Constellations of Love

Simon riley x reader | fluff |  Warnings: none  I was listening to “your universe” by Rico Blanco and i can’t help but to think about Ghost :( 

In the shadowed side of dangerous missions, Simon "Ghost" Riley was a beacon of enigma. With a reputation that whispered of mysterious and skillful, he moved through the shadows with a grace that seemed unchallenging. But beneath the tactical facade, even a soldier like Ghost yearned for love that transcended the havoc.

Among the chaos of a world teetering on the edge, You his darling who stood as a brilliant support and light that Ghost found himself uncontrollably  drawn to. The danger was always present, but so was the undeniable connection of shared laughter, quiet conversations, and stolen moments of vulnerability. It was a fragile balance, a dance between a fierce commitment to duty and the yearning for something more.

 Ghost found himself seated beside you, your forms illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. The crackle of the campfire serenaded your words, as you spoke of dreams that would exist if you weren’t in the military.

“I'll ask the stars above, 'How did I win your love?”

The words were a reflection of Simon’s own thoughts, a feeling he had never dared to voice. His eyes met yours, and in that instant, the veil of invincibility that he often wore shattered, revealing the man who longed for love as deeply as anyone else no matter how he rejected affection.

You two shared a comfortable silence, you never answered his question because you know that deep down he knows the answer. the crackling fire seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the symphony of emotions that lingered between the two of you. Ghost's gloved hand found yours, fingers intertwining as if in silent agreement that the world could wait, just for a moment.

“I don't think that you even realize the joy you make me feel when I'm inside your universe” you gripped into his hand as if he’ll let go. 

Ghost had always thought that he will never find someone, but you had proven otherwise. In the heart of uncertainty, you had become the steadfast star in his sky.

In a world where danger was everywhere and tomorrow was never guaranteed, you and Simon found a connection that defied the odds. Through whispered conversations and fleeting touches, they formed a bond that transcended the chaos of reality.

Ghost leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a promise that needed no words. In the constellations of the night sky, amidst the commotion  of the world, love had found its place—a universe between the two of you.

katabasis; to go down

Soap is walking in the grocery store when out pops a small boy who takes one look at the Scot and is screaming. Loud high pitched kid scream. Johnny is panicking. Who? What? Why? And then the kid starts running circles around him. Spouting little kid gibberish and the soldier is frozen in place hands slightly out as if expecting an actual attack. Some kind of small child conjuring magic maybe bc the kid hasn’t stopped running around him. And then amidst his panic you peak your head around the corner to see what has your son all excited. And you laugh. Johnny is terrified and this pretty lady is laughing at him. “Hey bub relax” soft voice calling to the kid who immediately stills. “But. And. He” your son is out of breath from running “hair. Big. Hair hair hair” Johnny is still frozen in place trying to decipher what language the kid is speaking and you pull the cart around the corner and towards them. Reaching out your hand, your son runs to hold it still stammering out something that Johnny is sure are words but he’s not sure what. And the look on the grown man’s face could make you laugh he’s so confused. “Take a breath and tell him what you want to say.” And then a comically large breath comes from your son. “I like your hair mister.” And now Johnny is blushing when you take off your son’s hat to show him the flattened Mohawk that he has. “Ahhhhh.” Johnny had no clue the screams from your son were good ones. “Lil lad s’got good taste I see eh?” And now your son is giggling at his accent. And he’s trying to spike his own hair up with his hands. You lean a little closer to the stranger to explain some kids at school made fun of it. Say no more. Now he’s bending down to be eye level with the small kid and giving him the fuck them speech (he only swore once before correcting himself). And he adds “bet you could even convince your dad to rock one with ya”. And the quick causal “don’t have a dad” comes out from your son and ohhh man Johnny is in heaven bc you do now kid let me talk to your mom real quick.

From my bestie in Thailand. The second sign went up hours later

Simon never heard his father say sorry, or please, or thank-you, or I love you.

In their house, when his mama would put down hot, heavy casseroles, her skin damp with sweat, eyes darting for some sweet words, his father never said one word of thanks, let alone 'some'. Only waved his thick, impatient hand.

His father never took the plates to the sink. Never noticed when she stayed up at night to sort the screws by size and purpose—organizing the chaos he left behind just to find one damn hammer.

His father never said ‘please can you—’ only grunted with that bitter mouth, glared with those unkind eyes when he needed something.

Simon never heard him say I love you. And he couldn’t believe his eyes the day his father plucked out his baby brother from his mama's arm, and didn’t spare one glance for his Ma. She didn't deserved that, did she? Her weak frail body, cracked murmuring lips — she should be celebrated with adoration, comfort, love.

Love, and an infinite of it.

His father never sat beside her just to drink tea. Never told her about his day. Never asked about hers — what she did, or liked, or wanted. Never reached out his thumb, however calloused it was, to wipe away the sprout on her chin. That he was grateful she's next to him, that he loved her.

So when life happened, and Simon was left to pick up his pieces and place them in a way he wanted to be—he thought whomever he will be, anything, but his father.

Anything but him.

And then life happened again but this time it arranged itself in beautiful ways. Because you came with it this time. You and all your silly lovely ways, you who kissed your knee before resting your chin, you who cheered up catching up with fridge' light switching off, you so beautiful, so kind, made up of sundust. His sunshine — lighting up his world.

And God, he was so, so grateful. Every moment, every day !

“I love you,” he’d say the moment he wakes up next to you. Pressing his love on your lips, on your shoulder, on your neck.

“I love you,” when you spill milk in the morning daze and stare at it like it might disappear.

“I love you,” when he wipes your chin and kisses your forehead.

“I love you,” when he takes your hand in his and rubs it between his palm, why ? Because he'll spend his whole life keeping your hands warm than anything else.

“I love you.” because he loves, loves, and loves you so much that it hurts, so much that it heals, so much that it's everything sweet ever happened to him.

“I love you.” for all the ways his father failed, and Simon too, as a son, as a brother — failed to save his mama and lil' brother. I love you, because in loving you he is allowing himself to be loved.

Masterlist

Saying your going to have shower sex with ghost is like giving a dog a slice of cheese with medicine wrapped inside. You let him wash your tits.... as a treat.

He gets to grab at your tits and paw at you all he wants while you soap up the washcloth. It's all fun and games when you're scrubbing his chest, letting him look at you and think maybe you'll start playing with his cock, but then you grab the shampoo and suddenly it's not fun anymore. He's getting soap in his eyes and trying to keep you from accidentally waterboarding him in an attempt to clean some of the grime off his face. Is this grease paint of dirt? Who knows but it's got to come off.

The backne on this man is severe. You gotta put topical cream on him afterwards. He pouts the whole time.

oh my god. OH MY GOD

BARRY SLOANE MADE A PLAYLIST FOR PRICE?!?!?!?!?!? AHHHHHH

the music on the playlist is so good and i fucking knew he was a rock/metal dad!!!! I am going to dieeeee

Ghost is just mad he's losing at Mario Kart

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always