Warning: The reader has a toxic family, angst, and hurt with comfort
༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻
It was no secret; everyone in the base knew you were engaged. Half of them had even met your finance. Most importantly, to you, however, was that your team approved of them. They had seen the photos of you two on your phone, listened in on the conversation, and were there to celebrate with you when the question was popped. Price had clasped you on the shoulder after meeting the lucky one. A proud, comforting smile on his face. What the team wasn't aware of was your family. Ghost seemed to be the quickest to catch on that your connection with your family may not be the best. You rarely talk about them; there were many conversations about family related to your partner's parents, their sisters and brothers. Not yours. Or how, when you were on leave, you were at your fiancée's family's house. Never yours.
Three months before the wedding, your happy chatter about the wedding seemed to almost freeze. The boys were invited, and their leave request was approved almost two years in advance. takes a lot to plan a wedding with a life like yours. And as the date got closer and closer, you were vibrating, and as much as the boys rolled their eyes at your chatter, they loved it. Until it froze.
“You alright, Sarg? Gone kinda quiet?" Gaz had asked, peering over his mug at you. His eyes locked in on yours, red and puffy. You looked tired.
“Ya look like shit,” Ghost chipped in. Which, at least, earned a amused puff from you, lips turning up a smidge.
"Yeah, I’m fine. Long night.” Ghost watched as you rubbed your face. Your head pounding behind your eyes. "Is the Price in his office? Got a quest for ‘em.”
“As long as it’s not a color swatch question, he should be,” Gaz joked, yet you gave a quick nod, a small smile, and left.
“Something's wrong,” Simon grunted.
“Mhm”
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“Listen, kids. I’m flattered. But wouldn't your pa want to do that?” You had asked him to walk you down the aisle. Price leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. You looked like hammered shit.
You swallow thickly, lips trembling, and Price feels his blood go cold. You don't cry, you never cry. “He uh..” you swallow thickly again, and Price watches your throat work. “My pa, he’s uh” Price watches. He’s seen your folks before; you’ve mentioned them once or twice to him, specifically about emergency contact, before you met the lucky bird. There’s a shaky sigh, and Price refocuses on you, the way you're clutching your phone like a lifeline.
“Let me see, kid”
You shakily hand him your phone, text messages open to the contact.
‘Dad’
You didn't want the deadbeat to walk you down the aisle. Fuck, looks like you wanted to walk yourself or have your mom do it. No surprise here, ya joined the army to escape them. But you have some connection with your ma. Yet, the response from your so-called dad was...angering. Price read the most manipulative text he's ever read. Some of their hostage negotiators could learn a lesson or two from that vile man.
“I was wondering-, my ma agrees with him, so…” Price watches you shift on your feet, how you tense. “My uh, my family isn't coming now, they all agree with him.” Prices throat tight as your eyes fill. The need to explain yourself building in your chest. “He wasn't there, captain- he- he” you hiccup, and Price stands up, moving around his desk. Pulling you in tight as you crumble.
“They-they weren't there, Capt- never were! And now-now they want to-” you pour sops break the air as price holds you. Listening.
“It’s a privilege to walk ya down an aisle, lass. Ya earn that. It's not demanded."
༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻
Soap volunteers to be your maid of honor (hes not)and appears at the dress reveal in a large bridesmaid's dress. Hands clapped and cheering loudly. Your partner, sisters, and friends are hyping him up.
Soap and Gaz become best men in place of your brothers, who sided with your mom. A quick talk with Simon had him relay his discomfort of being in front of so many people. It made me feel exposed. So he stands in the back. A black medical mask on, matching his tux. You can tell he’s smiling, his eyes crinkling as you enter. Your arm in Price's as your captain, your father figure, the only older man who truly gives fuck (besides your partner's parents, of course), walks you down the aisles.
Ghost, happily and without question, stands at the entrance of the venue, mingling with the few he now knows and talks to. But he's there like a guard, waiting with baited, hopeful breath, your shit of a family comes. Nearly praying they do so, he can break your dad’s jaw.
Ghoap x Reader single mom reader, hoping to have part two out before Christmas.
As per usual, just an idea, and writers can take it and run with it. Just let me know where to read your work.
Master list
So maybe looking on Craigslist for a wife was not his most logical decision. Maybe meeting a complete stranger from the internet was not the best idea. Maybe he should have asked for her picture. Maybe he should have told someone where he was going.
But Simon Riley was desperate and running out of time.
"Are you Simon?" He looks up at you, eyes wide, clearly nervous, even with half his face covered by the surgical mask, then nods.
You sit across from him, the little mom and pop dinner seat squeaks. He is stunned because you look nothing like he imagined.
"Do you have some form of proof of your situation?" You cut right to the point. Simon pulls out his military ID, shows his dog tags, and then shows some pictures of Riley.
Then you smile at the pictures. "Oh, he is adorable. Can not believe you gave him the same name as your last name." Within seconds, he is gushing about his good boy.
Once the conversation lulls, you get serious again. "I have a big yard. It is fenced in. You will have to buy the kennel and whatnot. I will take him to vet appointments and text you daily pictures. In exchange, I want health insurance and you to pretend to love me in front of my kid. I also have a prenup to make sure we do not fight over custody of Riley should we divorce."
He finds himself nodding along. He was not even prepared for that risk, but you had. How much had you thought about this?
"How good is your acting, by the way?"
Turns out Simon is a decent, if quiet, actor. Gentle touches here and there, temple kisses, general family time. He was not perfect, but it was enough to get your kiddo believing in love again. Which was all you wanted.
Certainly helps that Kiddo took to both Riley and Simon like one takes to oxygen. Kiddo gushing all about their precious fur baby being retired military.
Simon was a bit confused about why neither of you reacted to his mask or even asked about it but honestly, he was a little scared to ask and then bring attention to it. He was thankful you adopted Riley off the bat, signing a notarized paper giving him visitation with him to buy some time for the wedding.
You had said, "I have to make sure you are a safe person to be around my kid. I may be desperate, but I am not stupid or reckless," while holding up what was clearly a tracker at the end of your first meeting. You are prepared in all the ways Simon is not. Still, it started small, being seen together. Meeting up after you get off work, just so kiddo and the babysitter see him drop you off. Then the dates were you "could not find a babysitter" so the kiddo had to come. Within a few months there was a small ceremony, and he was moving in- right into your shared bedroom.
He realized he might not have thought far enough ahead, but the moment Riley crawls into the bed, he is out cold, waking up to you bringing him homemade breakfast in bed and talking about how exhausted he must have been. Any time he is not working, he is home, Riley by his side, and the kiddo firmly believes in love and all is good in your perfect little worlds, even if they rarely cross.
You expected the bare minimum from Simon. Seemingly, he has set his goal to break every expectation you set. You were pleasantly surprised at him playing with the kiddo and genuinely being interested in your baby's life and achievements. Simon hung the awards and pictures on the fridge as much as you did. You did not expect him to do anything around the house, but one night after the kiddo went to bed, you fell asleep in your chair before doing the dishes and laundry that desperately needed to be done. You woke up to Simon gently trying to tell you to head to bed. Prompt mom panic, only to find the laundry done and folded. You never asked, but he always did something to make your life a little easier while home. Even more, he never asked for anything out of you.
The first argument floored you. He wanted to split the bills, stating he lived there, too. You countered that he was only there when he was not deployed. He was having none of that. Eventually, you compromised to have him pay the less expensive bills. Then Christmas rolled around, and of course, this man decided to spend all the money he saved on bills on you and the kid.
You are not sure what you expected to happen if your kid called him Dad, but it certainly was not this.
He and the kiddo were playing with Riley when you heard it, "Dad, watch this!" It was a slip of the tongue. Kiddo did not even realize he said it. Simon tensed up the same as your exs before they started yelling. Simon, though precious Simon never raised his voice to either of you, and that did not change that day. He had quietly excused himself. Thankfully, it was time for the kiddo to go to bed anyway, and so you found Simon on the back porch smoking tears running down his face and an unopened bottle of whiskey beside him.
"Hey," you sit beside him, quiet, waiting, unsure.
He speaks barely above a whisper, "I do not want to be like my father."
He did not have to say more; you understood. Leaning back to look at the stars, you start talking, "My parents do not love each other. Not sure they ever did. They were good parents, but it still left a lasting impression. I believed in love. I kept trying, and yeah, there were lots of foul people who just used that naivety against me. I thought I had found the one when I got pregnant. Guess what, he is not here. You are. You may not love me romantically, but you saved my kid from facing the cruel reality I had to. I do not believe I ever will find love, but I believe there has to be someone out there for my angel. Because of you, they will not fight against that chance. You have been more of a father to them than anyone else. I will not pretend to understand what happened to you, but even if we were to divorce, I would encourage you to see the kiddo. You clearly care for them like a father." With that, you take the whiskey bottle and head inside while Riley joins him on the porch.
Soap can't get a plane home for the holidays, but Ghost gets two tickets home and a plane ticket from his home airport to Soap's home the day after Christmas. Ghost planted the tickets in Soap's hand, and that was that.
Until Soap saw the house Ghost supposedly lived in. There were little snowmen lining the porch, clearly made by a child. Then there are lights strung up. Soap remembers Simon's old flat. He did not even have pictures on the wall. Soap follows the love of his life into the house, heart slowing every step of the way. He watches Simon shrug off his coat and hang it on a hook with his name above it, then gesture to a guest hook for soap. The boots were nicely lined up, and he slipped on a pair of house shoes like he had done it a thousand times.
Then he followed Ghost into the kitchen, where a Lady was cooking. He felt his heart shatter as Ghost placed a hand on her waist and leaned down, kissing her temple. "Where is Kiddo?" The lady chuckled and turned to look up at Simon. "At ease, soldier. Your mini me is with his paternal grandmother's till Christmas morning." Then she turned to Soap, seemingly startled at his presence. She was beautiful, seemingly glowing with the joy of a woman seeing her husband after a long work trip. Soap felt sick, but he would not dare let it show.
Simon explained that Soap could not get a plane home, and the only available flight would be the day after Christmas. You nodded along and welcomed Soap into the guest bedroom, telling Simon to make sure Soap knew the house rules.
Soap knows he has no right to be this upset, even as he silently cries in the guest bedroom with you and Simon sleeping on the other side of the wall. It was not like he ever told Ghost his feelings. Even still, he thought Simon would have told him that he was getting married. Then again, it was a huge show of faith for Simon to bring Soap into his home. Into a place with his wife and child. Soap found some comfort in that.
Reality is, Simon is just embarrassed by how this all occurred and never told Soap because he was sure he would make fun of him. He also thinks that Soap believing that he is really with you will convince the kid more.
Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.
Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)
A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.
When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent.
I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear.
" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling.
“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way.
As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.
In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.
Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.
The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.
As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.
I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin.
“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them.
“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before.
Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?
“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.
Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.
the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world.
“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines.
“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”
My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.
Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him.
He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened.
The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you.
it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record.
Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you.
Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other.
Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on.
Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.
He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.
Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.
Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.
As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.
He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand.
The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.
Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind.
“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him.
Simon can’t be here.
He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.
No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.
And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child.
Not my family, not again.
No.
No.
No.
This world will burn before something happens to them.
Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.
After an injury and recovery, the men of the force find themselves acting a little differently towards you.
Inspired by the Smiths and Cage the Elephant.
Warnings: a building falls, use of song lyrics, protective 141
Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Masterlist
SO I POPPED OFF at like 1 am with three shots of brandy lmao
The strings of a bass echoed into the open night. Electric steps, iron bridges, the river. Central town spinning away into the flurry of the night. You were running from phantoms, what had you done but cried into the night? Your phone long since turned off you were afraid to return to the safe house. Made up as a civilian you blend smoothly in, but the oppressive nature of their stares made your eyes water so you took your chance and bailed.
Even in your distress, you admired London proper. You wipe your tears and stop your swift walk. You could hear music? There was a well-lit area a dozen or so yards, (Metric Sergaent) You frown as your Lieutenant’s voice echos in your head naturally. You grit your teeth. Nothing you did was right. In training he’d catch every little mistake, poking out your weaknesses without telling you how to better your stance.
What of Soap and Gaz? Your fellow Sargents and supposed friends. One moment they had your back then after your injury they joined Ghost. Soap would pull you aside and scold you for using your ‘bad leg’ or your hits were too low or high. Gaz just commented after you healed up against you even serving. It took three weeks for you to have enough.
You turn on your phone to check the time, and it rings with a skull icon, you answer it as you can pick up the music.
“Fucking hell Sergeant where are you.”
“Doesn't matter Ghost, Fuck off”.
“Wait, Lo-”
You hang out and toss your phone into the river. You smirk, a sense of relief flooding your tense body. What had your valiant captain done about your concerns? Immediate relocation to a safe house for surveillance, with said team. Nothing of “I’ll talk with Simon” No you got the “You could be a liability so let us have three grown-ass men babysit you in the middle of the city.” You went to protest but he shushed you with a disappointed look that made you reel back.
You weren't British, maybe you didn't meet his standards. He's the one who requested an outside operative all those months ago. You performed top of your class and threw your body and heart into the job working your way into being the face of the team. It was you whom they sent to comfort those who lost loved ones as collateral. Everything changed when you broke orders to save a child.
--
“Heart, Ghost, Soap Clear Out Now! That is a direct order!”
The building rumbled and air support had’nt arrived. You had about a minute until the whole place collapsed.
“Affirmiative, Sergeants move out!”
Ghost ushered you in front of him and Soap was already running through the dust to get out. But as you turned to run you caught movement.
“Ghost there is someone in there!” You try to trace the movement but Ghosts gloved hand yanked you back as he started towards the entrance.
“No Heart-”
You gasped, there was a girl pinned under rumble! Your instincts take over and you shove out of his gasp with more strength then you ever though you could muster, Ghost stumbles and you book it back as he yells after you.
“GHOST, HEART OUT NOW THE BUILDING IS COMING DOWN!”
He had no choice but to leave you as you threw yourself over the girl. There was a loud rumble then black.
You huff, odviously you had survived and the little girl you pulled out from the rubble survived as well. After the dust cleared the next day, you had lugged a beam off her and you and hobbled her out to seek medical attention. Once the mission had finished Price and the others had rushed back to find empty rubble, it was a joyous mother who led the foreigners back to their Heart. And there you were, in some small village a hero treated to the best they could. All you could offer despite the pain of your leg was a small smile towards to girl who clung to you like a baby.
Soap had about given out before he rushed you with curses, poking and prodding like a mother hen. Gaz laughed, a wholehearted sound like melted caramel and quipped about surviving the sky falling. It was Price and Ghost who were not too keen, but you had a back up. The leaders of the village, who’s daughter and grandaughter you had saved, had what turned out to be excellent intel that you handed to Price with a smirk on your face.
“Fucking Hell.” Was all you gotten from Ghost and his head in his hands with a deep sigh.
--
What you didn't realize was how big of a deal it was to the Captain and Ghost. Once you got back to base and were put on a 3 month leave was when things soured. You were able to use connections in the village to work intel, something Laswell was grateful for, But Ghost took this personally, giving you almost a disapproving sneer when he would see you out of bed. Price was silent. No yelling, no scolding just silent. Some storm brewed and once you fully healed and went back to training it seemed Ghost tainted Soap. The Scot became overbearing, making less hurtful comments. A Gaz, once level headed, turned into Price’s little shadow, you could tell from their glances they were communicating.
After three weeks of being stationed with them, fully healed mind you, you had enough of walking on egg shells, being the subject of Ghost’s anger and Gaz’s twists and turns. You didn’t snap until Soap had risen his voice after your pacing.
“ENOUGH HEART.”
It caught Ghost and Gaz off guard in the small apartment as you turned wide-eyed. His eyes were stormy, set off by something you couldn’t identify.
“Johnny-”
“No LT. They need to learn their place”
Your hackles rose, you tried to calm the rage, how dare he?
“And whats that MacTavish? You four have been acting like I’ve been a virus since the day I came back! I worked my ass off to help you and this is how you asses repay me? Im not a fucking toddler you can drag around.”
Gaz went to speak but the glare you shoot him is venemous,
“No you don’t get say anything Kyle. You’ll just go running back to Price and prolong this little ‘vacation’ Im sick of being treated like a child.”
“Sergeant”
“Oh rich from you LT” You feel your nerves bristle as Ghost steps forward in challenge. Despite him towering over you, you bite back
“You can take your Sergeant and Stuff it. You have acted like an asshole through these past 4 months and I’m sick of it! You three are grown ass men acting like children. Run back to Price and bully someone else I'm sick of this shit.”
And with that you grabbed your bag and stormed off, disappearing into streets of London the three men stunned at your outburst.
---
You enter the lit area to find a band and civilians listening to, was that the Smith’s? You relax to the familiar music. The main singer is a handsome man, dark eyes raking the crown with a calm smile before you lock eyes and he winks. Unexpecting, you blush and turn into the crowd. He begins to sing with a voice of silver and honey.
Take me out tonight
Where there's music and there's people
And they're young and alive
Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home
Because I haven't got one
Anymore
There is a little irony as you take a seat at the bar. Over the past two years, before your four odd months the taskforce had become home to you. You settled in quite fine, either bickering along side Soap, joining with Ghost or helping Price and Gaz with their reports. Seeing your personal skills Laswell insisted on you staying.
She smiles when you enter in under the arms of Gaz and Soap.
“Hey kid, good to see you.
You nod at here before Price enters, he passes you three a look before ushering the three of you out of the office.
“Come on you two, the parents gotta meet now.”
You giggle as Price rolls his eye as you turn you catch a knowing look from Laswell to Price and as you head out the door, but being dragged to lunch, you miss the fond look he shoots you.
You order a bourbon neat, as you take a sip the chill of the night hits a little deeper and you frown behind your glass watching couples get up to dance. You remember that mission with a fond sigh, the bourbon reminding you of your tall and often mysterious Lieutenant.
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people
And I want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home
And I'm welcome no more
You tilt your head down, that mission oh. Something in your chest ached.
You entered the room in a shuffle, the trails of your outfit not what you were used to, but a mission like this called for finery. You stumble but pale hand’s catch your arm and tucks it in under his. You turn to the perpetrator but find dark eyes quietly regarding yours and you jump.
“Ghost!”
“Call me Simon at this point Heart”
You manage a quiet yes sir. He watches you with softer eyes before there is laughing down the hallway.
“He’s a lucky bastard is what he is, getting to take Heart all dolled up.”
Johnny’s voice has your eyes rolling. After a few months of your service the Scot had accepted you with open arms, and the flirting, my god the pick up lines. You sigh fondly into your drink.
“I mean you could just ask them-Lt! You’re early.”
Simon doesn’t offer more then a raised brow as he and Soap meet eyes and Soap turns away.
“Kyle please can you help me with this,” You lift the tails of your outfit in a huff.
The man chuckles and nods, it was his idea anyway. His dark eyes meet yours with soft smile that makes you swoon. He offer you a hand and you go to take it but find resistance.
“Simon?”
“Hurry Love. We ship out in 10.” And with that he lets you go. Kyle’s hand is warm and rough and he twirls you to adjust the back of your outfit. Soap turns to Simon,
“The mask?”
And to your surprise, Simon looks to you and nods before slowly removing the balaclava. Soap and Gaz seemed unfazed but you were surprised. A year in you had yet to see more then his lips from a smoke or a drink, but the soft blond hair and scars found you staring at him. He watches you but when you meet his eyes you give him a soft encouraging smile. And his lips quirk up as Soap fusses with his mic and collar. Simon just grumbles at him and you laugh, a chiming sound that has all the men smiling.
You peer back through the crowd, how long had it been since you’d been out? You tip back the the rest of your bourbon and set the glass down feeling the sting. Fuck it. You drop your back and relax into the seat, the singer’s eyes meeting your with a smile as he continues to sing. You sway in your seat to the music.
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine
You and Soap tumble together, hitting the ground before rolling. The impact steals the breath from your lungs as you grasp at him making sure he was alive.
“Never though i’d get ye like this Heart.”
You sigh, he was fine, despite just saving his ass. He rolls over so his weight isn’t on you more then it needed to be. You are sitting almost on his hips, he grins at you cockily with a raised brow.
“Stuff it Johnny, I just saved your ass.”
“Aye and I gotta thank you for it.”
And in a sudden sweep he pulled himself up and presses a soft kiss to the side of your lips.
“Thank you Love.”
Your face lifts a little at the memory and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes close an you bask in the warmth of the crowd. Following that moment the taskforce changed.
Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last"
But then a strange fear gripped me
And I just couldn't ask
You hop off the stool and head into the crowd, heart aching for comfort and the hands of others.
First it was soap, falling into your shadow, after the kiss your heightened senses saw his eyes on you everywhere. With other soldiers? One of the members of 141 was there, or he was, hands across his chest, standing guard.
You were training with members of KorTac. The largest fellow, König had taken a keen interest in you due to your language skills and you found a calming friend in the man. Masked like your Simon you felt more comfortable with him. So when he had you pinned you squirmed and broke free.
“Good”
His voice is soft, pale eyes meeting yours as you roll up onto your feet. You run at him before he can get up, but he shoots up and grabs you with a little yelp escaping from your mouth as you are then thrown a few feet onto the soft mat. You roll onto your back, the breath knocked out of you and the ceiling spinning slightly.
“That’s enough!”
Garrick’s sharp voice surprises you as his form appears in your settling vision. He’s quick to kneel down and check you out.
“I’m fine Kyle, just a bit of the rough and tumble.”
His soft lips frown disapprovingly,
“I don’t like you wrestling with him.”
He helps you up and you see König’s form looking out for you. You give him a small wave.
“Sorry Schatz” The nickname pauses you as you stand, Kyle’s arm around you guarding.
You blush a little and smile at the tall man before a gruff ‘Sergeant’ calls from the edge of the room. You find Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at König before he calls you to him. You nod a little dumbfounded and before you can pull out of Kyle’s grasp the man presses a kiss to the side of your head. Then lets you stumble into the waiting grasp of the Lieutenant.
You shake off the memory and your heart murmurs, but you ignore the hurt. For one night you were free from the confusion and rejection from your team. The crowd, seemingly sensing this welcomed you into their sway. A few single ladies sidled up you with wide smiles and pulled you into their group. You knew how to dance, you learned young, this skill pulled you into some interesting missions. As you sway with the ladies you recollect as the singer watches you.
Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home
Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum
Oh, I haven't got one
Oh, oh
Simon’s arms were steady around you, Price’s voice in your ear letting you know about the target. You had gone undercover as a couple to infiltrate a drug smugging ring. The leader was hosting a gala at a large mansion in the mountains. And seeing as Kyle and Johnny were on a mission that left you three on your own. You nod silently to Price. Simon pulls you closer and then spins you out on your heels.
“Who knew you could dance?”
You quip up at him, but he only nods, umber eyes taking in your form. You looked breathtaking and it stole the words from his lips.
FIrst Johnny then Kyle. You wondered as you looked up at Simon, handsome as ever in a dark black suit.
“Are you ok Simon?”
He hums, the sound deep in his chest, then in a moment he pulls you flush against him.
“Target on the move lovebirds.”
Price’s voice sound in your ears in a chuckle.
“RIght Captain.”
You sigh but Simon pauses in his movement, and you look up at him in confusion, you call his name but he just stares at you.
“We need to move Lt.”
Nothing, but his hand raising from your side to your face as he leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls a way and finishes with a
“Affirmative.”
Before leading your frozen self away.
You lose yourself in the music for a moment, rotating partners in innocent sways, just treasuring being lost in the moment, But this song of course must end.
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine
The voice is much closer and you soon find yourself face to face with the mysterious singer. He smiles as he sings and it reminds you of the final piece of the puzzle.
Price had fallen asleep at his desk, again. You sigh fondly and set a cup of warm lady earl grey aside. You move over to him as he mutters something in his sleep. You felt bad waking him but you knew you needed to before he slumped over.
“Captain”
Nothing, even as you call it 3 times. Finally desperate,
“Johnathan Price!”
He shoots awake, eyes darting around tensely before he finds you and softened immediately.
“You can’t be doing that to a man love.”
“You were falling asleep again, how many times do I need to get on you about that Cap? “
The man regards you and chuckles before he sees the tea. You notice this and turn to grab and hand it to him. When you you turn back around the man is standing regarding you. The moment then feels intimate and you flush a little, stepping back.
“Sorry I’ll just leav-”
“No love it's fine, and please if it's just us call me John.”
He reaches for the tea taking a sip while his ocean eyes watch you. There is something there and you can sense it. After nearly two years of serving under him you grew to know him pretty well, there was fondness in his gaze for all his soldiers. But this was something softer.
“John, I…”
He finishes the cup and sets it down, listening wholly to you and you find the attention has your heart stammering.
“The others have-”
“I know love.”
There it is again and you find yourself pausing as John leans forward, taking your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles into.
“What do I do?”
“Up to you love. I am here for you regardless. You need to get some sleep.”
With this he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand and lets you go.
The next day your deployed to the small village and the following four months are hell.
You shake off the feeling. After your injury they treated you like a child, like a burden to be kept locked away. You sigh, pausing, feeling alone in the middle of everybody again.
Oh, there is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
The singer finishes with a frown. The crowd cheers then standard music plays and the moment is broken. The singer passes the mic to his member then turns to your pondering self.
“Are you alright Love?”
His voice is soft and he stands a respectable distance away. One of the members of his band takes the mic and begins with Heaven knows I'm miserable now, continuing the Smiths theme. You almost want to laugh a smile lighting up your face at past (bad very bad) Karaoke attempts with Soap and Gaz.
“There’s a smile.” He smile down at you and offers a hand, you take it introducing yourself. He raises a hand to the crowd and your new girl friends cheer you on as you allow the stranger to pull you into a dance.
The next hour passes with another drink with your new friends and opening up about yourself. Nothing about missions nor sensitive information, but finding yourself in a strange position with the four men of the 141. A little looser you describe them all with a few giggles in response as you recount their crazy tactics. It was nice and you settled into the easy arm of the singer. His arm laid only on the back of your chair but under the watchful eyes of the girl group you got comfortable. At the end of the hour, approaching 3 in the morning the singer was called back on to stage.
A new base line and you swooned as something a bit more American played. The singer nodded his acceptance to the bassist and began to sing.
Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii
On both sides, the vow was broken
Oh my my, I'm the one, tryin' to hide this damage done
One day, all our secrets will be spoken
He looked at you and gave a wink and the girls cheered as you threw back a beer. Fuck it. You allowed them to pull you into the ever thriving crowd. Your group drew into the heart of the crowd right up in front of the stage.
As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen
Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah
Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything
Like we were never close
The singer surprised you and under a breath he hopped down from the stage to join the crowd. He approached you with a sway and a open offered hand. You looked into his eyes with a twinkle in yours. The girls cheering you on, you took his hand and swung into the music.
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
Here you were free to experience life, a break from the bullets, free from the heated stares of the 141. Well, at least for a while. You would go back eventually, you bag had enough supplies for a few days. As you spun in the singers free arms flashes of green, blue and brown spun through your vision. You were a little under but still alert, but with the music you let it all go.
Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii
On holy ground, our vows were broken
We met up, we broke bread, I was blue, your dress was red
Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was comin'
As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen
Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah
Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything
Like we were never close
He pulled you closer in then, even if for a fleeting moment you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes were obsidian, reflecting the lights like stars and he sings until he’s breathless. You wondered for a moment what could happen.
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
But as you dance the more of alert of the ladies elbows another, her head tilting subtly towards the entrance of the outdoor bar, where a familiar new set of men appeared. The girl went towards getting you but her friend stopped her as four sets of eyes found you then split up. She sent the girls a look.
Let’s see what happens.
Meanwhile you know the song is finishing and you find yourself taking the hand of the singer and he pulled you into a light embrace and spun you out as he finished breathlessly
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
He stops with a hum as the music continues for a few paces then goes out with the cheering of the crowd. You spin on the pads of your feet with a whooping feeling light in your chest, but you then bump into someone. But before you can apologize you are turned around in their arms and your breath hitches as Simon is staring down at you with dark eyes. It is then you sense another presence behind you and between you and the singer (whose hands are up in surrender) is Johnny.
The sounds of the band drown out with the depths of Simon’s eyes. There is too much there for you to comprehend. His sudden appearance breaks up the alcohol burning in your system and you stand up straighter. Emotions swirl underneath his balaclava, that alone a straight giveaway to his identity. There is anger yes, that much is evident, but you see the stinging presence of worry and something much deeper you dare not name. You turn your head away, the weight of the emotion pulling your heart back from the sky.
The singer shifted looking a little concerned, but Soap was a wide wall of muscle and kept himself close enough to brush your back from within Simon’s arms. The girls however outnumbered the men and give you a knowing look, you nod and they pull the singer away as he nods. You see Soap loosen immediately before turning and forcing your eyes into his.
Stormy blue oceans, the depth of which scare you as he nods to Simon towards the empty bar. You sigh and force yourself to loosen in Simon’s arms. He passes you to Soap and the men pull you gently to the bar where you are especially ashamed to see not only Kyle with your stuff, but a in the corner of the venue, out of noting eyes was John. Gaz with your bag, drew towards you and the four of you reached the awaiting Captain.
Johnny stood at your right, Kyle moving to your left and Simon towering over you like a vengeful wraith, and Johnny still had not let you go. You move to pull your arm from his, but he gives you a stern look, something of a overprotective mastiff.
“MacTavish”
“Captain-”
“Johnny.”
Simon’s deep voice rumbles from behind. Johnny hands trace down yours slowly before he takes your hand with a sigh, the tension finally releasing as his pinky takes yours in a final embrace before he finally lets go of you. He huffs and turns away in a slight pout that warms your heart and you find yourself taking his pinky back with yours. It’s a small show but the way his eyes light up behind the worry makes your heart melt. The other men trace the action, Kyle’s eyes meeting Price’s in silent communication. You all stand for a moment longer, not daring to speak, but when the wind causes you to shiver, alcohol in your system reddening your cheeks, its the weight of Simon against your back that surprises you, his arms, minding Soap’s hand, come under yours and wrap around you, his warmth melting into yours.
“‘Were worried Dove.” He leans down over you until his chin rests in top of your head and you can feel the rumble of his voice in your soul. It’s Kyle that speaks next.
“That was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done Love.” The man frowns, but his eyes move back to the singer and the group of girls, then he eyes you again sharply.
“What if something had happened?”
Its hard to move with Simon's weight on you but you shot Kyle a withering look.
“Nothing happened, I happened to be having fun.”
“But he had his arms-”
“Kyle”
John’s voice finally speaks up and the man turns away to glower at the crowd, then he reaches a hand for your free one and meets your eyes. There you see a storm of concern, a deep fondness and a bit of protectiveness.
“We need to talk Love, about the past months.” John takes command again, something deep in his soul calm again seeing his team together. But there was time in the morning to talk. He could see the exhaustion of the day creeping into as did the other men.
“In the morning, John” SImon’s voice rumbles feeling your form sway.
“Right Simon” he nods but before turning John steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. The action jolting your heart awake and leaving you flushed.
“John?”
“It’s ok sweetheart, sleep, we’ll get you home.”
With that he turns as Kyle and Johnny reluctantly release your hands. This leaves you and Simon as the men wait.
“Si-?” You are suddenly lifted, strong arms finding your back and under your knees to lift you bridal style. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles,
“I think I like the sound of that Love.”
And with a final turn to the crowd you manage a wave to the girls and the singer who shoots you a wink that causes a huff from simon before the man turns to follow the others.
Time to go home and as they walk, joking amongst each other with Simon’s soft voice luring you to sleep, You feel the loving eyes of the four men on you as you fall asleep.
Tangeld Hearts Series: W4/D1 - Simon Riley + Secret Dating
Call Of Duty Master List WC 2902
Simon doesn’t do this sort of thing. The sort of impulsive, and reckless thing that this has become between the two of you. He certainly doesn’t do relationships, and he most definitely doesn't do a relationship with someone he works with.
That is exactly why what is currently unfolding in the weapons locker room is throwing Simon for a loop. Whatever is happening between you and Simon has been growing further and further out of his control, and the minute you’re standing in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest, your brows drawn together, and your lips pursed together like you’re trying to will yourself not to explode with every single thing you want to throw into the wind.
Simon knows now that he’s cornered back down into a corner by you once again. “Simon, you've been ignoring my messages.” You're straightforward with your delivery but even he can hear the wobble in your voice. Simon exhales through his nose and stares blankly at you. “I was on a mission.”
You start to tap your foot against the concrete floor in the weapons locker room. Crossing your arms tighter around your chest, “Simon don’t… you’ve been back for hours now.” Simon gives a small shrug of his shoulders, “Debriefing was long.” That’s all he can muster right now, “That’s bullshit, you’ve walked past me a dozen times already and you’ve pretended like I don’t even exist.” You say with a huff, and for some odd reason that’s the one that lands all crooked and bent in Simon's chest.
Simon doesn't know what to do, what to say so he just tilts his head. The skull mask catches on the fabric of his jacket and the fluorescent lights of the weapons locker room gleam off of it. “I was… I didn’t pretend.” He says his words are finally coming back to him.
Your eyes go wide, “oh…” You lick your lips and roll them between your teeth, “So you were just purposefully looking everywhere except me in the hallway?” You ask with a bite in your voice. Simon can’t manage all this right now, the silence that takes over the room is astounding. It rings in his ears and the fuzziness that clouded the rest of the room leaves you staring at him blankly.
You sharpen your gaze on Simon and for the first time in a long time the look on your face actually hits somewhere deep in him. “Just fuckin’ say it Simon.” You grunt out, your glare doesn’t flatter as you continue to stare at him with your arms still crossed over your chest. Simon has never heard you curse as much as you have since you cornered him in the weapon locker room.
“It's operational awareness.” You scoff and roll your eyes “God, Simon you’re such a fuckin’ liar.” You groan. Maybe he is a liar, but not about the important things. He might be a lot of things, he might be a lethal weapon for the military, and a little… a lot closed off to anyone, terrifying to everyone, but most importantly he doesn’t. Simon can’t lie when it comes to you, when it comes to how much the man cares about you.
It’s just hard to admit it sometimes, hard for the words to come flowing out loud and proudly. He most definitely won’t be saying it here, not where the cameras can see him break and be something else then what they made him out to be. Simon won’t mutter words where the commands can still breath down his neck and make him grit his teeth together under his mask.
He won’t say, or do a single thing where the look or the word can have someone asking questions that neither one of you can afford to answer. Simon steps out from the corner you’ve pushed him into, he keeps his voice low as he stares into your eyes through his mask. “You know we talked about this.” Simon says flatly like he’s trying to regain some sort of control over the situation unfolding.
“That’s not… we walked about not being overly suspicious. Simon not whatever you’re acting like, as if I killed your fuckin’ dog.” You exhale heavily and your shoulders seem to fall a little, “I didn’t.” You roll your eyes at Simon's half assed attempt.
“Simon you refuse, like violently refuse to sit anywhere near me. You won’t dare talk to me if we are in the hallways, or the offices. You won’t even take a fuckin’ coffee from me I try and hand it to you.” You say throwing out all the time that you had in fact tried to be near him or tried to touch him, and Simon had simply thrown through moments to the side. “You know that people watch right?” He asks as if you’re the stupid one.
You roll your eyes, and your arms fall. “Yes I know that people watch,” You look around the room, gesturing to the emptiness of the weapons locker. “But there is no one here.” You watch as Simon looks up towards the corner of the room, and points with his bone covered glove. “This room has cameras.” Simon says pointing it out.
You can’t help but back up, not due to Simon size but the way the next words are making you feel. How your chest tightens as the words come falling from your lips. “So what… are we just… we are just acting like we’re strangers now?” You ask him, there is no more anger in your words, no venom that spit back, instead it’s replaced with a deep rooted hurt.
Your voice is so quiet and small and that’s what hurts Simon the most, it’s too honest of a feeling that erupts between the two of you in the locker room. Simon feels the words hit his chest and feel like a piece of random shrapnel lodge its way into his bones and leave that aching feeling behind. “No!” Simon practically erupts immediately.
You lift your eyes from the dirty weapons locker room titling. “So what are we doing then Simon?” Your voice drips with concern and warmth. You can see his jaw tighten and his eyes go darker than before, even with the fluorescent lights of the locker room you can’t see his pupils.
‘You’re everything that I can’t have’ Simon thinks to himself as he stares down at you. ‘But you’re everything that I want to have.’ His stare is cold, but you know there’s something brewing underneath it all. “You and I are being careful.”
You don’t agree, shaking your head at him like a disgruntled parent. Your face shifts, your brows are no longer pinched together, arms swinging at your sides. “We can be careful without you being cruel about it, Simon.” There is something that shifts behind Simon's eyes as continues to look down at you. You can tell your words have hit a nerve. One that Simon isn’t sure what to do with just yet.
You don’t feel great about it, but a part of you knows that karma is a bitch, because he deserves it. “You can’t treat me like I don’t exist then act like I do when we are alone. It’s not fair, and it’s not right.” You mumble out. You watch as Simon hooks two fingers under the hem of his skull mask.
Tugging it up just enough to see the bottom of his chin, the plumpness of his lips, the slight scar that goes over the top of his lip, and just the tip of his nose. It’s a risk, the both of you know it. His file is bare of a photo, but this is a calculated risk that he is willing to take if it’s only for you. “Come here, birdie.” He mutters softly, you’re hesitant at first, “You don’t… Simon.” You say softly.
“Just give me a few seconds.” He murmurs softly, “that’s all I’m asking for, please?” He asks. Your eyes flicker to the door, to the camera that you can see in the top corner of the room, back to the door and finally they land on Simon. You left out a final breath before stepping closer to your secret lover.
The moment you’re within reach of Simon's arms his hands are finding your waist and pulling you in with a restraint that feels controlled barely. It’s not a rough pull, and neither is a desperate one. It just holds a certain meaning behind it.
Simon rests his still mask-covered forehead against your own. He takes a deep inhale, breathing you in as if he hasn’t gotten the chance for way too long. You smell like military grade soap, and laundry deterrent, the kind that the military doesn’t offer, maybe a few sprays of your own personal perfume.
The thing that Simon smells the most is that you remind him of home.
“I wasn’t ignoring you, Birdie.” He tells you quietly, like you’re in a crowded space. “I was just… I was tryin’ to make sure that you didn’t get hurt.” He admits to you. You feel your shoulders lower. “Simon, you know that I’m a big girl, I’m not made out of glass. I promise you that I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is going soft. “I know birdie, I know that you aren’t made out of glass, but that doesn't mean I don’t wanna protect you anyways.”
He tells you. One of his hands brushes a slow and calming circle into your hip. The motion is grounding for you, and him if he’s being honest. “I also don’t want command or anyone else using you just to get to me.” He says with a worry in the back of his voice that he isn’t sure encapsulates the stress and worry he feels.
You swallow, because you hadn’t really thought about that. All you could think about and feel was the way it had made you feel while Simon ignored you every single chance he got. “That’s not… it didn’t feel like that, Simon.” You admit to him finally.
“What does it feel like then, Birdie?” You watch his lips as he asks you the question. You take a large breath in and on the exhale you explain yourself to him. “Simon, It felt like you were, or are ashamed of me.” Your voice is so quiet and small and it breaks Simon's heart.
The words barely sound like anything, but still it causes Simon to go still. All that continues for a second is the breathing between the two of you. “Birdie, you know that’s not true at all right?” You nod, but then you’re shaking your head. “Say it then, tell me Simon.” You’re demanding more from him.
Simon isn’t sure what to say. Does he say that he’s utterly and completely fallen in love with you? No, that sounds juvenile, and desperate. Maybe he can say that he literally stares down at his watch and wants the hands of the watch to move faster so he can sneak off to your room at night. Also no to that, it makes sound like you’re something that has to be hidden, and you clearly don’t want that. Does he tell you that he’s got the way you laugh memorized in the back of head so he can replay it while he’s away on missions. You might think he’s crazy for that one. Or maybe he can tell you how he keeps the extra hair tie that you always leave in his quarters he takes it and leaves it in his vest pocket like it’s a fucking lucky charm
The thing he can’t say any of that, not here, not in the middle of the weapons locker room, not with the damn camera scanning around the room. Watching and waiting.
He does the only thing that he can think of. Simon kisses you. It may be a brief and chaste kiss, but it still carries a softness that you’re always surprised that Simon has tucked away. It’s a barely a brush of your lips together, but Simon can still taste the remnants of your cherry chapstick, and it’s so fucking real.
The intention is there too.
You melt into him, and the kiss anyways. When Simon pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours once again. “Birdie, I’m not ashamed of you at all.” He says, “I’m just scared.” He admits to you. You blink up at him, “Of what? Of me?” You are unable to stop the words from coming out. Simon is shaking his head, “Not of you, of losing you. I can’t lose you, birdie.”
That seems to quiet you, your lips clamping shut right away. Your hands slip up and towards the front of Simon's jacket. Your grip is light, but still has grounding as it is when you’re not here on base and he’s got your hand in his own hand. “We can’t… I can’t keep pretending that we don't exist.” You let out in a small whisper.
Simon gives you a simple nod, “I know, birdie.” You continue on. “I don’t need anything big, no huge declarations of…” You say cutting yourself off, “I just need you, I just need you Simon.” The breath that Simon lets out is a slow one, “Okay.” He says, “Okay?” You questions, not understanding. “I’ll make sure to be better, do better for you.” There seems to be no room to argue with him, even if that’s what you wanted to do.
You search his eyes as much as you can with the mask scrunched up around his nose, and the dark paint around his eyes. “You’re promising me that?” You ask, Simon hums. “You know what I don’t do.” You shake your head, “I don’t make promises that I can’t keep.” You give Simon a small nod, one that is full of understanding.
A moment passes and then another before you’re sighing. “Does that mean you’ll finally let me sit next you at lunch?” You ask hopefully, Simon lets out a huff, “People are going to notice.” You roll your eyes, “Of course they’re gonna notice, but I’ll steal your chips.” You mutter with a grin.
“You’re an evil little thing, do ya know that?” A smile tugs at your lips, “There you are, there’s my boyfriend.” Simon's eyes go wide, groaning softly. “Don’t call me that, especially here.” You pout your lip trembling ever so slightly, “But you’re my boyfriend, Simon.”
Simon leans down and into your space, his voice barely above a quiet whisper. “That’s only for when we are in private, birdie.” He tells you. You give your head a little tilt. Teasing him, “So if you’re my boyfriend in private… then are you in public?” You tease him. He lets go of your waist and brings one hand up to your face, brushing his gloved thumb over your cheek. “I’ll be your ghost.” It’s corny and has your rolling eyes but still the smile in there.
The sound of footsteps echoing outside the hallway has both of you freezing in your arms. Simon is automatic to lowering his mask back over his features and you mourn the loss of his skin and the taste of his lips immediately. Simon also takes a few calculated steps back, until he hits the lockers.
The minute he steps back you also mourn the loss of the heat that you hadn’t realized was surrounding you. The distance snapped perfectly back into place, like a gun into a holster. Like it’s a perfect muscle memory for Simon.
It’s cold, and far too professional for how you’re both feeling. You cross your arms over your chest again, partly holding yourself and your control, your expression going neutral instead of the rising happiness that was flooding your body just a few moments ago.
Just like that the door is opening, and in pops Soaps head. “You’re up for weapons check, Lt.” He says all Simons gives him is hard and cold. “Copy.” Soap looks deep and sees you, his gaze flowing down your frame. “Was I interrupting something?” He asks.
“No” “Yes” You both say at the same time, you glare up at him, your back still facing away from the door. Simon doesn't look down at you, not willing to break the illusion just yet. Soap just raises a brow at Simon and shrugs his shoulders, “Right.” Then he’s leaving you, the door shuts with a loud click that echoes in the room.
There you are standing on opposites of the wall, you hear the clock tick by a full ten seconds before Simon is murmuring softly. “Meet me in my quarters, midnight.” You don’t look up at him, rather the floor the way it shows wear from where soldiers stand and take their weapons of choice, the lockers that are getting wear and tear from use. “That sounds like being careful, Simon.” You say. “We will be careful, Birdie.”
There is a pause, and then you’re smiling to yourself. Feeling the apples of your cheeks growing warm and tight with happiness, and overflowing joy. “Then you better not be late, Ghost.” You mutter. Simon watches you go first. He can be your ghost even if it means being reckless, and impulsive.
You’re more than worth it all
Posted on: 02/23/26
W3/D3 - Micheal Robinavitch + Grumpy x Sunshine -> W4/D2 - Leon S. Kennedy & Ada Wong + Love Triangle
And I really liked the concept of it (I love me some protective Ghost and injured Johnny or vice versa), so when I finally found the time I sat down and tried making it into a real drawing:
I'm not a hundred percent satisfied, what do you think?
The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.
Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.
Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N
A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.
Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist
Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.
Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.
You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.
So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?
When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.
"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.
He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.
"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.
"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.
You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.
"What the hell happened?"
You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.
"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.
Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.
"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.
You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.
A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.
"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.
Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.
There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.
You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.
The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.
"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.
You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.
Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.
You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.
Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.
It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.
You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.
You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.
The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.
You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.
Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.
Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.
"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.
It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.
Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.
The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.
He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"
"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.
Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.
You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.
Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.
Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.
"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.
Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.
"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.
You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.
And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.
It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.
Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.
Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.
He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.
Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.
Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.
Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.
For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.
Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.
Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.
