#husband!ghost

“oh, fuck.” you whined, hips shuddering upwards against simon’s tongue as it dragged over your core. “babe, fuck-”

“missed you.” he hummed against your spit-drenched clit, making you shiver again and slip out another whine. “missed the fucking taste of you, darling, thought about it every day while i was gone.”

you dropped your head back, able to moan as loud as you wanted, because your son’s room was down the hall, equipped with the mother of all white noise machines. you kept the baby monitor close by, but tried not to think about it too much.

it was almost enough for you to get off just from the things simon was saying to you. he prided himself on his filthy mouth, still frequently bringing up the time that you actually came completely hands free- just from the sound of his voice and what he was saying with it.

“so pretty f’me, mumsy, think i wanna put another baby in you tonight.” simon drawled. his big hands were pressed to the insides of your thighs, holding your legs spread open for him because they had a tendency to snap shut when you got close.

“you think it’ll stick?” he asked sarcastically, plunging two fingers into your soaking cunt. “you want me to make you a mummy again? fuck you deep, so my cum sticks in you?”

“yesss, please-”

simon laughed at your begging, not mockingly, but as if he found it endearing. cute. he kissed you when he was level with your lips again, and you moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

he let you get lost in the kiss for a while, because he knew how much you enjoyed it. one of his big hands, the one that wasn’t holding him up above you, reached down between the junction of your bodies and started to press slow, hard circles into your clit.

you moaned against your husband’s lips, your body going completely lax against his, just drinking in the pleasure you hadn’t experienced for the last six weeks whilst simon had been away. you could make yourself cum as a quick fix, of course, and for a while, you thought that was the extent of the satisfaction you were capable of. then, the first time you met simon, he blew you away, and nothing was ever the same.

“s’it feel good, mummy?”

“mhm,” you hummed, voice cracking. “fucking fantastic, my love, don’t stop.”

you had no idea how you could always relax so heavily whenever he was working you over with his fingers like this. sure, he could really make you scream, but every so often, he just wanted to level you out.

it might have been the unconscious feeling of safety you got when he came home. after being subtly on edge the whole time he was away, being back in your husband’s immediate proximity was enough to make anyone feel zen. or, it was the fact that you knew you were delivered from parenting duties, so you didn’t have a single thing to get up for in the morning.

whatever it was, it was bloody relaxing, and it was damn near making you cum.

“oh- fuck, don’t stop.” you breathed, fluttering your lashes so that your vision could focus again, your glassy eyes landing on simon’s face.

he looked utterly exhausted when you saw him this close. he probably could have passed out. he probably was going to pass out, as soon as his cock was in you, and forget about all his talk of breeding until the morning. and yet, here he was, two fingers in your cunt, thumb dragging lazily over your clit, refusing sleep until he’d given you an orgasm.

you felt yourself starting to tense a little more as your orgasm built, but that was over as quickly as it began. your thighs trembled as you came, walls clenching around simon’s fingers when he pressed the spongy spot inside of you for the final time.

“fuck, yes!” you cried, a shiver running down your spine. your slick coated your thighs and soaked the bedsheets, creating a wet spot that you would make simon sleep in later because it was ‘his doing’.

you knew it absolutely wasn’t over for you, but your husband was gracious enough to give you a moment. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then stood up from the bed.

“m’going to check on the boy,” he said, adjusting his stiff cock in his trousers. “then you’re in for it, mummy, y’hear?”

you giggled, nodding as you tried to haul a little further up the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. you gave simon the once over with your eyes, smirk spreading across your face as you checked him out shamelessly.

his reaction was priceless, and it made you cry as well, given how nervous you were about even thinking of telling him. so when he stared at you, expression blank, face blank, eyes staring into your soul, you panicked.

"say something!" you'd screamed, cheeks went and chest heaving. you were so scared.

that brought him back to reality. 

simon blinked and then it seemed like he was in control again. his arms wrapped securely around your shivering body and his heavy hand patted your hair- and you loved it. you nuzzled into him as much as possible even as he struggled to find his words.

"i- i'm sorry, dovie..." was all he could muster.

you sniffled and nodded against him.

he sucked in a deep breath. "we'll do whatever you want."

flash forward to a few months later when you’re finally showing, scarfing down everything in sight. simon can barely keep food in the fridge for more than two days. if you don’t make it yourself, too worn out from carrying a whole human being for so long, he indulges you.

simon hates to leave you alone even for a second so when he leaves for work, he makes sure one of your friends/family was there with you. he makes you check in with him as much as possible- which isn’t a lot given how much you nap. it worries him, but he doesn’t want to stress you out, opting to seek out your ob-gyn who ensures him everything is fine.

simon often pays for massages for you both. he would never admit it but he loves them. you know it and love how relaxed he becomes. he even learns a little something just for you, keeping oils and soothing candles on the bedside table for whenever you need the relief.

simon would never consider himself jealous of a pillow, but the way you cling onto your pregnancy pillow at night instead of him? yeah, he's totally not fuming or anything. he definitely manages to get his cuddles in whenever he can though. often tracing your stretch marks to lull you to sleep, while reading a book or humming a lullaby for both you and the baby. but when he sings? you can't get enough of it. it's something he's reserved just for you, and now you have one extra person to share it with.

when you wake him in the middle of the night, he's startled each time. "'s the baby?" he asks, eyes wide and body ready to spring into action.

"yeah, the baby wants sushi," you pout. 

simon sighs loudly in relief and relaxes against the soft sheets again, pulling you on top of him. "love, you hate sushi."

"the baby doesn't."

he rolls his eyes but doesn't complain as he gently moves you and sits up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed.

"i love you," you coo.

simon brings home baked goods for you every evening after work. "is it cupcakes or cinnamon rolls this time, dovie?" he asks you over the phone.

"cookie s'mores," you reply, rubbing your heavy tummy.

simon raises an eyebrow, and though you can’t see, the silence is enough make you rethink your answer.

"and cupcakes."

"aye, tha's m' girl."

simon makes sure your diet isn't all junk food, and cooks every meal he can for you, making it as yummy and nutritious as ever, making fun things like chocolate raspberry bites and dried yogurt with a fruit sauce on top.

the further you go into pregnancy, the slower you move, and simon is a patient man. he holds you hand every chance he gets, he takes small steps with you and never complains when you have to stop half-way up the stairs to rub your tummy. hell he’s scooping you into his huge arms and rubbing your feet as soon as he places you down on a soft surface like your bed or the sofa.

and simon glares at anyone  who even thinks about touching your pregnant belly without consent. a subtle look from him is all they need to retreat awkwardly. he knows you don't like strangers touching you so you definitely don't enjoy them touching you tummy (strangers or not). "what if i'd randomly walked up to someone and rubbed their belly? i'd be labelled a creep, would i not?" he'd heard you exclaim one evening. 

simon who tries his best to accommodate your mood swings by letting you cry into his chest about some anime you were watching, where the girls riding a bike crashed into a pole. it’s supposed to be funny, he guesses, but he keeps that to himself, opting to smooth your hair down and squeeze you closer to his body. he whispers sweet, calming things into your ear, showering you with light kisses.

and when the baby finally arrives, simon dotes on her like she's the most precious thing ever and she is in his eyes, you both are–  his two girls. 

he couldn’t wish for anything better.

he’s very particular about your rest. simon wakes up when she's crying in the middle of the night, not letting you argue with him about going to check on her because he's already there. 

he feeds her when you look too tired to even stand, suggesting pumping if it something you can handle, and keeps the milk carefully stored so he never needs to disturb you when you're exhausted. 

simon takes you two out on walks and even encourages cute family activities together like baby yoga, which he recently found out was a thing after much much research. 

simon is very insistent on maintaining  a healthy work-life balance so he can be there for his baby girls whenever you need. 

and when her first word is 'dada,' tears spring to his eyes and he absolutely melts.

simon's convinced he'll be the best husband and father ever because his love for his two girls is eternal and unconditional.

a/n: tysm for requesting lovely anonnn hope u like <3

all while he’s groaning and ranting in your ear, your eyes are rolling back. he’s everywhere; his voice, his mouth, his cock, his large hands he uses to kill. your hands, delicate and much smaller than his, with short french tips, used to save and heal people. simon sits up, his rapidly feral pace never stumbling. his eyes are closed and he’s breathing unsteadily but he forces himself to look down.

your expression is priceless. borderline pornographic.

your eyes were zoomed in on the way your bodies separated and reunited. the sticky string shaped mixture of simon’s pre-cum, your own juices, and the white bubbles spilling from your cunt and soaking simon’s full balls that slapped rhythmically on your puckered rim with how he’s got you spread.

moments like these are his favorite though. outside of your flat, you’re this highly intelligent, respected, and important individual who knew everything about anything medical or human body. you are a hero to some, an inspiration to most, and all of the above to simon. outside the bedroom, you did relax a little more. sporting your husband’s plain black t-shirt that engulfed you with your iconic house slippers instead of your classic scrubs and white coat with cloggers. you still remained organized, aware, and busy. simon genuinely can’t tell anyone the last time he’s seen you just sit and be a normal civilian for longer than an hour. and an hour is extremely lucky. that’s why, in the bedroom, he likes taking control. making the decisions. you run on his time here, your phone neglected on the kitchen counter so there is zero chance you’ll stop everything the moment the screen lights up.

in the bedroom, you aren’t focused, you aren’t mentally here, you aren’t a doctor when simon’s making your legs shake and thighs burn from his persistent pounding. he’s sure your brain is turned off and your mind is blank before he even considers either of your orgasms. his wife, a successful doctor, needs her husband to break her sometimes. you learned that from him, to let simon take your career out of your hands for a few hours and break your absurdly smart mind into little shattered pieces. he knows you know he’ll pick them up and put it together by your next shift. he calls it a “reset for the both of us,” which you had to wholeheartedly agree with.

your team knows your married. they’ve know you’ve got a supportive partner. they absolutely adore you and honestly care and see you as their own maternal figure. they also know you just got back from a huge trip across the world to further educate yourself. they should know you aren’t stupid either, as you’ve noticed more of your nurses approaching you with an request for overtime specifically wanting to work with other doctors on. your. shifts. at some point you called your team in, conducting an interrogation session.

“well, we figured you and your ‘usband would want to catch up, yknow?”

“yeah, doll, when is one of us gonna be able t’deliver y’baby?”

jesus fucking christ.

the thought became secondary as the pressure in your pelvis increased, a telltale sign from your overstimulated cunt is reaching her max. your eyes widened and watered, your teeth finally releasing their death grip on your bottom lip, mouth becoming ajar. simon hummed in satisfaction, “awe, need to cum, sweetie?”

with as far gone as you were mentally, it was useless to respond with words. you subconsciously settled with nodding your head, a high pitched, desperate “uh-huh,” causing simon to shutter. he brought one of your legs to wrap about his waist, his own thigh holding it up as he used the bed frame as leverage, right hand moving up your left thigh up to the crevice of your knee pushing up and back against your body. his left hand was fiercely abusing your clit, four thick fingers rubbing back and forth.

“come on, lovie. let go. let go n’ give it to y’simon. let ‘im take it all from ya.”

and with that, you snapped. stronger and longer than what your used to, tighter and louder than simon’s used to, and a clear liquid ejecting from you onto your spouse’s lower body and the bed. he must’ve started chasing his own soon after, his upper body returning on top of yours, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and jawline when he wasn’t growling the dirtiest things.

“fuuuck, gorgeous. m’gonna fill this pussy up full. y’so sweet. wanna suck on ‘er after.” his voice is gruff and deep. his head dips down to bite your shoulder, as you did his neck and fingers already earlier. “wanna see if my little doctor can keep all her husband’s treat inside of her while he laps on her cunt like an animal.”

you’ve already came, but you found yourself quickly approaching a second orgasm and squirt combination the more simon spoke to you. it only made him groan, his hips stuttering as he cock twitches and releases his sperm. this was personally your favorite part. getting to feel his cum shoot into you. made you warm inside, literally.

simon took about two minutes stuffed inside you to just return to you and catch his own breath. he wasn’t joking earlier, his cock might be slowly softening but his mind is still aroused and the idea of eating your sensitive, creamy pussy made him drool.

once he finally detached his chest from yours simon reached for your legs, gently pull your muscles back to their natural position. he kissed the top of each of your thighs, taking a moment to press his nose into your lower area with a huge inhale. “freak,” you thought. yet you flinched on instinct, your body still sensing simon’s brutally pleasurable touch. his large hands suddenly manhandle you into doggy position, forcing your arch.

“simon-“ you started but was interrupted by a sharp slap on your ass from behind.

“quiet. cleanliness is the golden rule in the hospital, yeah? you’re leaking everywhere, love. don’t look so professional now, d’ya?” he chuckles, focusing on the spreading of your cheeks, index finger threatening to push through your hole. “wonder what your colleagues would think about their best doctor getting dumbed down by a man with a dirty job.”

his mouth was on your clit not a second later. he worked on you like he was genuinely trying to eat you whole starting from your vagina, his teeth grazing and biting at your irritated bud before sucking while he was going to swallow it next. your hips forced back against his face when he really started to focus on sucking directly on you. you both couldn’t get a break around him with your jobs taking away time from each other- of course you fuck like rabbits.

“cum, simon, ‘m gonna-“ famous words before you actually sob, your hands palms down beside your head. you fell completely helpless against simon, your toes curling to a whiter shade. how the hell were you still going? in simon’s eyes, you weren’t. he figured he’s got about fifteen minutes before your body knocks itself out from the all oxytocin release and exhaustion. with that in mind, he uses his thumb to swipe any other messes from your leaky cunt and onto the much tighter, untouched hole. you naturally clenched and pushed allowing simon to shove his oral muscle inside- just a few centimeters, ending it off by giving you one last lap of his tongue from clit to rim.

he knows you’re physically sore and dehydrated, but he always starts with a reassuring sweet nothings.

“such a good, little thing f’me.”

“is my sweet girl all ruined nd sticky nd ready for bed? simon’s sorry, but he knows what his missus needs even when she doesn’t.”

“gonna force you on leave when i put my baby in you. not gonna take a step on my watch. takin’ our own personal holiday, yeah?”

From your bar stool you watch him approach, your face mirroring what you know his expression is behind that mask — wary, with his focus completely narrowed onto your face in the crowd.

Quickly smoothing your skirt atop your thighs, you manage a smile as he settles into the empty seat next to you, black-clad knee brushing yours from how long his legs are. 'Yes,' your body whispers to you. 'This is mine. I remember.'

“Hi, baby,” you say sweetly.

"Thought you were pulling my leg," the fearsome creature rumbles. "You really drove three hours just to see me between flights?"

"I really did.”

Those dark brown eyes flick down to your fingers, sporting your sparkly wedding ring. His is safely at home, tucked away in his nightstand.

Paranoid, he looks out across the bar, as if he’s expecting to see his men stalking him from afar. “I have to be back at the gate in an hour. Shouldn’t have come, really.”

“There’s a bathroom here with a door that locks,” you offer, getting straight to business.

He yanks his gaze back to you. You watch his eyes unfocus, as he meticulously runs the risk analysis of what you’re suggesting: a mindless fuck in a dirty public bathroom, in between flights. Off to who-knows-where in an hour, but there’s just enough time to get between your legs.

Your husband isn’t exactly a horndog, but he also hasn’t seen you in months. Hasn’t felt the warmth of your skin or the soft give of your breast in his hand, and you can tell he’s considering it. It’s not the logistics holding him back, you believe. It’s the… propriety.

“Please,” you whisper, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. 

He tracks the movement, blinking slowly. “I… can’t. Haven’t had a bath in…”

“I haven’t had you in…” you trail off with a pleading expression, pussy warming just from the proximity and the risk you’re dancing around.

You can practically see his heart begin to speed, as his eyes crawl back to yours, and he reaches out to take your fingers in his. His gloved thumb rubs lightly over the top of your ring. “I can only give you twenty minutes.”

“Then let’s go.”

By the time you slide the bathroom lock into place, his mask is already bunched up over the bridge of his nose, cigarette-scented and musty. You make a happy noise and wrap your arms around his neck, finding the scruffy side of his face to press against your lips as he breathes in long drags of your hair.

Simon washes his hands before he touches you, because he knows where his gloves have been, and it hasn’t been good. Soon after, you’re leaned over the sink with your tits hanging out the front of your shirt, legs trembling as he massages his spit in gentle circles over your clit, murmuring quiet instructions in your ear. 

He tells you in detail exactly how you’re going to get back to your car safely, which town is the best stop for petrol, and how you’re going to text him every step of the way until you’re safely home. Makes you repeat it back to him between whimpers while he rubs your clit and watches you in the mirror. 

When you both leave the bathroom ten minutes later, he has his gloves back on and you have a freshly stretched pussy and wobbly legs, leaking remnants of him into your underwear. You said your goodbyes in the bathroom, with his forehead resting on the top of your shoulder while his dick softened inside you. 

“Missed you,” he kept saying, kissing whatever skin he could lazily access. You were too spent from your orgasm to do more than mumble it back, thighs trembling after the exertion of cumming while standing in heels. 

“Where’d you get off to, Ghost?” his team asks him later, when he cuts his return to the last minute. 

“Had a chat with the missus,” he explains flatly, dick practically still wet. 

“Everything alright at home?”

“None of your fucking business.”

In a moment of acceptance came a will to refuse, and Simon felt the numbness after what seemed like an endless burning heat of hell.

It seemed like he was in a haze with the look in his eyes reflecting the burning building around him as he remained unable to move.

~

“Breathe, love. Just breathe with me,” he murmured, kneeling beside the bed, one hand wrapped around yours, the other smoothing damp hair from your face. His voice trembled even as he tried to be steady, calm—for you. But fear and awe danced in his eyes as he watched the woman he loved battle pain for the life they’d created.

The midwife was focused and firm, her voice cutting through the haze. “You’re almost there. One more push, sweetheart. One more.”

You shook your head at first, gasping, your body exhausted, bones trembling. Tears welled in your eyes. “I can’t— I can’t do it.”

The next hour was the most excruciating for you, but it was all worth it after getting to hold your child. On the other hand, your husband was struggling to process that he finally gets to hold his little one.

~

"Adadadada— dadada... mmmm" The baby stimming herself by calling Simon over and over, "Yes, bee?" he responded with a chuckle.

He'd never be tired of her sweet little voice, the little yawns accompanying her babbling. She giggled her little heart out as he rested for the night. There was no other way to sleep comfortably when home with his family.

~

"Daddy, don't leave yet, please? Mommy and I will miss you," His daughter sniffled..

"I wish I didn't have to, princess, but you understand why daddy has to work, right? So I can give you and mommy everything you've ever wanted and needed."

"But daddy.. we need you too.." she cried.

Simon's eyes darted to the fridge and the colorful magnets that displayed the pictures, the drawings.

From the moment she was born, until now.. until the end of time, he knows deep in his heart that she'll need him. They'll need him.

How could he ever have left this behind?

Just for a second, that's all it took for Ghost... well, Simon Riley to realize.

He still has a family, imagining your reaction, what about his daughter? And yet here he was..

Then, nothing...

Waking up to the scent of medication and the ache in his body was a feeling he had become accustomed to—a strange kind of nostalgia he wished he could avoid, but found himself reliving time and time again.

He was used to the medical attention at this point, nurses and doctors checking every hour until it was visiting hour. Price came in.

"You've been out for two weeks, lieutenant. Wife's been calling me none-stop since the day I informed her of your state"

Price understood the importance of stepping aside when Simon demanded to be booked on the earliest flight home. After all, nothing comes between man and his family.

...

Simon didn't care if his feet burned, the sharp pain in his ribs meant nothing but seeing you bolting towards him at that shitty airport squeezed his heart dry.

You held your daughter in your arms, not caring all that much who you bumped into after weeks of waiting for news on your husband. All that went through your head was "What if he died? What then?".

After receiving that call from Price, which he knew made you mad, he didn't call you until the last minute, when your husband's flight was already landing. You just rushed there, not caring if you were in your sweatpants or unbrushed hair, just held by a claw clip.

His world froze as he ran.. the sheer force of the two of you colliding in an embrace was almost enough to set you both off balance. Simon groaned, "Shit.." you apologized to him as you tried to pull you away but his grip just tightened..

"Si.." your voice cracked, "You stupid bastard, can't believe you'd just.. ugh.." you couldn't help yourself, the tears just made their way out into a sob.

Simon felt your hand pounding on his chest, his little girl crying with you, cherub face buried in her own pudgy hands.

This needs to end— family is the only support he has left, and he's causing them pain, constantly worrying them and leaving them to fend for themselves. He can't care for them the way he truly wants if he stays out of reach.

He has a fucking family, he's not have a proper one all his life and he almost died, he almost left them..

He hasn't lived a good life yet.

Maybe now is the time to finally, actually, be happy—the happiness he was deprived of all his life.