AHHHHHHHHGGGG just thinking about toxic fwb!simon who treats you, one of his sergeants, like nothing but his stupid little barracks bunny. he can’t help but want to constantly push his fat fuckin cock into you from behind, whether it be in your bed, in the alley of some pub, or in the bathroom during morning drills. it’s never in his bed because he knows you’ll want to stay; it’s easier if he’s able to just get up and leave. it’s always from behind because he doesn’t want to look at your face. miss him with that romance shit.
you just kinda deal with it. he fucks you good, right? it totally doesn’t hurt your feelings. it totally doesn’t suck that you’ve been infatuated with him since the moment you met. you totally didn’t fall for the way he gives orders, the way he’s so dedicated to keeping the team safe and on task. you totally didn’t have feelings for him, and you’re totally not only letting him use you because it’s better than him treating you like you’re invisible. it’s… fine????
yeah, it’s fine because it’s soap who sees your sad face one night after you and simon return from outside. simon immediately sits back down for another drink, meanwhile, you struggle to walk back to your own seat. you’re clearly worn out and your face is a bit sullen. it’s not like nobody knew what was going on. you and ghost weren’t exactly subtle, but soap didn’t think it was right for you to look so sad after getting your brains fucked out. it just didn’t make any sense.
that’s why he starts showing up outside of your door instead of simon. he tells you he just can’t sleep, and he needs a friend. he just so happens to show up just five minutes before ghost does every single night.
that’s why whenever simon gives you that look while you’re all out at the pub, johnny pulls you over and asks you to dance with him. that’s why he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as you both look at each other with a tipsy gaze. he leans in and smiles at you before whispering, “you’re beautiful, lass. you deserve the world.” that’s why he kisses you, and he takes you home.
he doesn’t fuck you. not that night. instead, he throws on a movie, and he holds you until you fall asleep. the next morning, he takes you out for breakfast, and the next week, he’s got you in his lap, and he tells the team that you’re “his girl,” planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek.
and all simon can do is watch as jealousy and regret bubble in his stomach and threaten to spill from his mouth in the form of bile.
but he swallows it back, and he just watches as you start ignoring his looks, his 3AM text messages, and knocks on your door. instead, you opt for nights in johnny’s bed with sweet kisses and missionary and mating presses as he looks at your face, presses his lips against yours, and tells you how beautiful you are. he lets you - no, he begs you to stay the night with him.
I just saw ur biker!simon insta post, and price not having a profile picture is so canon im fucking dead 😭😭😭
HEHHAEF RIGHT??
luv thinking it could either have been johnny who made his account — "sir, please, people are thirsty for you!" — or it was john himself who made it and he was following a tutorial he found in google <33
his account, or his lack thereof, was even brought up when reader was asking the squad their handles so she can follow them! kyle had to explain why johnny's called suddyboy (or why they all playfully call him as 'soap') while john goes, "what account...?"
(what are the chances he was thinking reader meant his bank account?)
cw // mentions of abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, she/her pronouns used for reader, alcohol use; idk if i like how this ended but here u go anyways give me feedback I am desperate
Simon’s high school sweetheart is a girl with a guitar and big dreams to get out of the shithole they call home. After she cleans his face up from yet another beating from his father, they settle underneath her sheets. He lets out a sigh of relief as his teenage muscles release tension the second his back hits the mattress. He pays no mind to the throbbing pain in his face as he tangles his fingers with hers, letting her kiss each of them with her soft lips.
“Promise that I’m gonna get us out of here,” she sleepily mumbles, her head resting on his shoulder. “Gonna make it big, then we’re out of here. Get a nice big house and a couple of dogs. They can have their own rooms,” she muses. Then, she falls asleep.
Simon doesn’t have the guts to tell her that he’s enlisted himself in the military. He leaves next week.
And she doesn’t find out until she comes home to find a handwritten letter on her pillow. With a curious look, she picks it up in her fragile hands, calloused fingertips brushing against the thin sheet of paper.
Hey love,
I wish I’d have told you that I was leaving, but I couldn’t bring myself to it. Ironic, yeah? Considering I’m supposed to be going to put my life on the line. Can’t even tell my bird that I’m leaving. The rage that I’m sure you’ll feel will be far scarier than any national security threat the world has seen. I don’t blame you though.
I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I promise that I’ll look for you the second I do. If you don’t want to see me, I get that. I know I won’t deserve it, but I hope you’ll give me a second chance anyway.
I love you, angel. I’ll have your songs on repeat in my head every night. I’ll never forget you.
I’m sorry.
Simon x.
And she tries so hard to forget him. She gets well into her twenties, feeling a bit silly for still thinking about her high school boyfriend. It’s not like she wants to be stuck for the rest of her life, but how do you forget about the only person you’ve ever truly loved?
She moves to Hollywood a year later. There’s a fancy record deal, and all she has to do is sign her name on the dotted line. No need to worry about the fine print that gives away her rights to her own music, all the songs that she wrote about the tall blonde brute of a boy that still hold her heart. It doesn’t take off. She reaches a small audience, but she doesn’t come anywhere close to playing sold out stadiums, even three more years into her deal.
By the time the fourth year is over, her contract ends, and her record label keeps her songs. She feels so alone and lost. She decides that the best choice is to get on the first flight back home, packing up a small suitcase and her guitar. Then, she’s back in the town she swore she’d pull herself (and Simon) out of, living with her parents, disappointment heavy on her shoulders.
She plays at the local pub every Tuesday and Thursday night, bartending every Monday through Saturday. It’s not a bad job. Some people recognize her from her failed career. Others recognize her as her father’s daughter.
He recognizes her the second she gets on the stage. She looks different than he remembered. Her hair is longer, and she’s just a smidge taller. Just a smidge. She’s still as beautiful as he remembers though. The second that her fingers strum against the strings of her guitar, her melodic yet soulful voice ringing through the pub, he knows he’s gonna be spending the rest of his life on his knees, begging her for forgiveness. She’s his deity.
He knows some of the songs. He mouths the words as she sings them. His mind flashes back to the day MacTavish and Garrick had caught him listening to her music, the little icon of her album on his phone screen as it played through his earbuds.
“Thought you’d like something a little louder,” Garrick chuckled. “A bit more aggressive.”
“Ye, L.T.,” MacTavish added. “Dinnae take ye for a big softie.”
But they didn’t know how much her voice brought him back down to earth. It soothed him, slowed his heartbeat. All of her songs were about him, and even if they were filled with angry and mournful lyrics, it still brought him comfort. She made him feel a little more human.
When her set ends, she packs up her things and heads behind the bar to begin her second job. His heart skips a beat as she walks over to him. “Need another?” She asks, nodding to his empty glass that once held whiskey.
He sighs and taps the glass on the bar top, nodding. When she turns around the grab the bottle, he grabs the fabric of his balaclava and tugs it off. Once she’s turned back around, she’s met with the sight of his scarred face. His hair is shorter. His eyes are somehow darker. They resemble the eyes of a man who’d seen so much more than anyone could comprehend. The bottle of whiskey almost slips from her hand.
“I’m sorry, dove,” he says, low and soft. Sincere. It’s all he can think of. “Wish I’d told you sooner, but I’m a coward.”
Tears brim her eyes as she looks at him in disbelief. She immediately puts the bottle down, and she’s scrambling to move around the bar. Once she’s in front of him, she reaches out to hold his face in her hands, as if he was a precious relic. He was. He was her precious relic. An artifact worthy of protecting with your life.
“Simon,” she whispers, her thumbs tracing over every scar she can find. Her mind thinks of every worst case scenario. “Simon…”
His hands reach up and take a gentle hold on her wrists. “I’m here,” he tells her. “I’m back home. You’re my home.”
She doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she crashes her body into his, her arms coming to wrap around his large body. He’s bigger. Much bigger. She imagines he’s been eating a bit better, working out much more than the boy she knew in high school. Tears fall down her face as she remembers the last time she’d seen him. “Don’t leave again,” she begs. “Not without warning.”
He wraps her arms around her waist, holding her like she could slip away any second. He won’t let her. “I won’t. I promise.”
Something something the Task Force meets the captain’s wife.
Cw // suggestive content at the very end, inaccurate timelines, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader describe as having curves, hmmmmm not proofread :p blep
COD MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
She’s a pretty little thing, but the way she carries herself isn’t meek or shy. She’s self assured. There’s something domineering about the way she walks into the room, body clad in a hot pantsuit, heels clicking across the floors of the military base. Her manicured hands are holding onto something tightly.
She walks into the lounge, poking her head in. “Excuse me?” She says, voice smooth. “I’m looking for Captain Price. I’m a bit lost looking for his office.”
“Aye,” Soap answers, standing up. He puffs out his chest, looking the woman up and down. She looks good. She looks amazing. Fit. Fuck, those curves? The way the vest of her pantsuit hugs her waist? It makes the man just wanna take a bite out of her hips. “Got a meetin’ with ‘im?”
Her eyes don’t miss the way the Scott’s rake over her body. They squint at him for a bit before she looks at the other two soldiers with him. Of course, Simon, she recognizes. The other man with dark skin and dark eyes, youthful and charming, she does not. “Just got some files to drop off,” she tells, as if that was all that needed to be told.
Simon can see the way Soap keeps looking at her, like she’s a piece of meat. Part of him wants to stop him, tell him that he’s playing with fire. The other part tells him to leave it; let the Captain see. He could use a good laugh.
Ultimately, he stands from where he’s sitting. Price would have Simon’s head if he let Soap continue to eye up his wife. “Can show ya, Missus Price,” he quietly grunts.
She smiles fondly at him. “Thank you, Si,” she says sweetly, far too casually for Soap and Gaz to fathom.
If this were a cartoon, their jaws would drop to the floor, and their eyeballs would fall straight into their open mouths.
“Missus Price?!”
“Si? As in Simon?”
Gaz and Soap exclaim at the same time.
“The Captain has a wife?”
“You’re on a nickname basis with the Captain’s wife?!”
They speak in unison again. It makes her chuckle, her demeanor still cool and calm. “Well, we’ve only been married for fifteen years,” she says. “Known Simon since he first started working with John. Used to work with them myself, in fact.”
Gaz swore that the room was spinning. How have they gone this long without knowing this about their own Captain? Sure, everyone was pretty private about their personal lives, but only Simon was usually this private.
She ends up getting pulled further into the lounge, sat at the table with a cup of tea in front of her. The delivery of the files are now an after thought as Soap and Gaz bombard her with question about her and her relationship with John. All of her answers make their heads spin faster and faster as Simon nonchalantly listens, standing behind her with his arms crossed.
We met at basic training. He always had my back from day one.
We continued to work together after that. That’s how I met Simon, eventually.
We married only a couple of years after meeting. We didn’t want to miss our chance with each other.
I retired two years after getting married. I got pregnant with our first kid.
Two boys. Riley and Lucas. 13 and 10. Lights of my life. They love the brute standin’ behind me. Their favorite uncle.
Simon rolls his eyes at that one. “Their only uncle,” he grunts.
“And you’d be their favorite nonetheless, Si,” she says with a teasing smirk.
Ahem.
The sound fills the room, and everyone looks to the door. There stands John Price, his arms crossed. “Was wondering where those files were,” he says gruffly. “You said you’d arrived half an hour ago.”
She smiles up at her husband. There’s a look in her eyes. It was as if the entire universe had come to a halt. “Sorry,” she says, standing up from her seat. She grabs the files and walks them over to him. “Got distracted.”
A protective arm reaches up to wrap around her waist as his hand takes the files. “I can see that,” he says.
“Cap, ye dinny tell us ye were married!” Soap exclaims. “Ye hiding her from us? She’s a catch!”
John sneers at him. “That’s the problem. You lot can’t keep your paws to yourselves.” He sighs. “Let’s go, love. Enough of these muppets.”
She begins to walk with her husband, but not before she turns around to say goodbye to the soldiers. “It was nice meeting you guys. I’ll see you later, Si.”
Her heels click against the floor once more as John walks her to his office, quickly shutting the door behind them. He sighs as he tosses the folders onto his desk, leaning against it, his head hanging between his shoulders. He only calms down as he feels her hands begin to massage at his shoulders.
“They were sweet,” she muses. “Very… energetic?”
“Like children,” he grumbles, lifting his head to look at her. He can’t help but to smile when he sees the way she’s looking at him. Finally, he stands up straight, and he faces her. His hands grab onto her waist as he pulls her into him.
“Reminds us of our kids,” she admits, arms coming out to rest on his shoulders. “A billion questions, no patience, hungry to know anything and everything.” A giggle slips past her lips as she adds, “Nosey.”
Her hands reach out to caress his face. The feeling of his facial hair beneath her palms makes her hum in satisfaction. “Kinda makes me want another one,” she whispers.
John grunts, and his grip tightens. “Don’t tempt me, woman,” he tells her, moving her back until she’s right up against his desk. “Won’t be able to control myself. You know how I get around you.”
But she doesn’t listen. No, she only leans up and lets her lips brush against the shell of his ear as she whispers to him. “What’s one more?”
.
Ok I didn’t know how to end it. Here u go. Pls enjoy the struggle meal. I lowkey wanna write about the dynamic between the Prices and Simon here (it would be pure fluff), so lmk if ur interested.
Kyle Gaz “I let my girlfriend manscape me” Garrick.
MASTERLIST
He’s a good looking man. He values high fashion, style, and good personal hygiene.
That’s why when he walked in on you laying on your bed, tweezers in one hand, mirror in the other, he becomes curious. He sits with you, making small talk, telling you about work and whatever stupid shit Johnny had dragged him into on base, and he just watches you pluck at your eye brows. When you’re done, you sit up, and you go to put your supplies away, but he stops you.
You give him a curious look and ask him what’s wrong, and he’s bashful as he speaks. “Can… you do mine? Clean ‘em up?”
You get excited, and give him a full spa treatment. You lay him down on the bed, and you grab your tweezers again, along with your small, handheld razor. You throw an eye mask on him before getting started.
You’re straddling him as you work, and he smiles at you every time you pull back to assess your work. He loves the way you look so focused.
When you’re done, you hand him a mirror so that he can look, and he’s impressed. He doesn’t remember the last time his brows looks so cleaned up. They frame the shape of his face so nicely, and he feels a sense of pride as he admires your work.
When he goes to work the next week, all of the guys are making comments about it, a bit in awe of how he managed to look even cleaner than he already does. He just shrugs. “My girl’s got talent. That’s all.”
Single mom!reader x neighbor!simon Riley/John Price except the kid isn’t a small child. He’s the readers 14 year old son who is fiercely overprotective of his mother after escaping their situation, and Simon/price has to try insanely hard to win him over because you will not date a man your son doesn’t trust, refusing to put him in a situation like that ever again, but your friendly neighbor is ok with it bc god ur so pretty and kinda and smart and patience is a god damn virtue, and he’s gonna be the best damned father/husband to your son and you, even if it takes ten years.
Paring: Toxic FWB!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Sergeant!Reader; John “Soap” MacTavish x Fem!Sergeant!Reader
Summary: (Request from anon) - The first time you tell Simon "no."
Rating: Mature/Restricted - MDNI.
Word Count: 2.3k
Categories: angst, hurt/no comfort
CWs*: Very very very Toxic!Simon - he’s actually the worst. No aftercare. Super self deprecating reader. A little too damn dramatic for no reason.
A/n: Half ass edited. I'm sorry. Work is wearing me tf out. Thank you for all the love on the original toxic fwb!ghost post tho.
*you are responsible for the content you consume. please heed all content warnings before proceeding.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
Things had been weird since Johnny had managed to intercept every interaction Simon would have with you. It was starting to piss the lieutenant off. It felt like every single time he went to speak with you, there Soap was, clung to your side like a god damn puppy.
He tried to change the schedule you two had unconsciously created. He used to show up at your door at 11PM. Then Johnny started doing the same.
“Havin’ a hard time sleepin’, lass,” The Scott would tell you. “You always make me feel better. Would ya mind talkin’ my ear off?”
After Simon caught on, he started showing up at 10PM.
At first, it would work. He’d spend forty five minutes pounding into you, making a mess of your body while you whimpered. Tears of pleasure filled your eyes as he tugged on your hair. His hips slammed into your own as his fingertips gripped at your waist, leaving bruises behind. It was enough time to get his fill of her before leaving without a word. The only sound emitting from him was one of him grunting as he pulled up his pants and walked out the door. Aftercare was never his forte.
To save yourself from tears, you tried not to think about it. Instead, you ignored the ache in your body as you quickly shot off of whichever surface Simon had chosen to fuck you on for the night, and you put yourself straight into the shower. By the time that you had finished washing and scrubbing away the shame you felt between your legs, there was another knock on your door. You knew exactly who it was.
You weren't sure that you were in a place to be a means of support for the Scottish Sergeant knocking at your door, but you opened it nonetheless. He’s got a sheepish grin on his face, but it quickly falls when he sees the state you’re in.
Seeing you fresh out of the shower wasn’t something unusual for him. There have been plenty of times, both on and off duty, where he’d seen you scrubbed clean with wet hair and a bare face. It didn’t faze him. What did faze him was the worn look that took over your features - the way your smile was disingenuous. It didn’t quite reach your eyes…
Yet you didn't hesitate to give him a shoulder. “Hey Soap,” you greeted with a raspy voice. “Come on - bed’s all ready to go. “M ready to talk your ears off.”
“Bonnie,” is all he says when he walks in. He quickly takes your hand and leads you over to the bed. The scent of sex hits his nose as he sits you down. It’s as if it’s permanently buried into them. It makes him want to vomit. He didn’t understand what Simon didn’t see in you. How could Simon take one look at you and not fall completely?
Sure, you may have enjoyed the activities for the forty five minutes it lasted, but the way you looked after it all? It was heartbreaking. It was as if you knew how bad Simon was for you, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of it. Every time that he grabbed you, came to your door, looked you in the eyes, it felt impossible to tell him no. All you wanted to was to be with him, be close to him, and look where it got you.
Johnny shakes his head in disapproval. There’s nothing that he yearns for more than to march over to Simon’s quarters and punch him square in the jaw. He’s got the most beautiful woman they’d ever known in the palm of his hands, and this is how he treats her? This is how he leaves her feeling, like nothing but a human fleshlight? Fuck that.
But he doesn’t do it. Instead, he helps his fellow sergeant lie down in the bed, turning you on your side so that you're facing him. His big and burley arms create a cage around your frame. Like a dog returning to its kennel for comfort, you bury your face into the man’s chest and silently cry.
“I know it’s none of my business, darlin’,” Johnny says. “But whatever you and Simon have? You deserve much more; you don’t have to stick around for him forever. There are good things out there for you.”
Something in the air shifts at his words. The crying and the soft trembling suddenly stops, and he can feel your hands grip even harder at the shirt he’s wearing.
“G’night, Soap,” is all you manage to say.
You fell asleep in Johnny’s arms that night. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it was the first time you didn’t spend the entire night thinking of Simon Riley.
Soap started showing up at 9PM every night from there on. It was a routine he’d fallen into with you: Eat dinner at 8. Shower at 8:30. Get ready for bed by 8:50. Meet in your room at 9:00. Sleep at 10:00.
It was every single god damn night, and between missions and training, it left no room for Simon to get a moment alone with you. There was no time for him to use you, release his frustrations onto you in the form of deep thrusts and hitched breathing.
It’s four weeks, an entire month, of all of this until he finally gets the chance to fuck you again. He’s so pent up that he’s sure he’ll cum the second he’s inside of her, but he can’t even care. He needed her.
Johnny had been out on leave for a few days - a family emergency. He’d quickly said goodbye to you, giving you a kiss on the forehead, promising he’d be back soon, before he was off base.
Finally, Simon thought, no more distractions.
The clock strikes 10PM, and the lieutenant is right outside of your door. His large fist pounds against your door three times, and it makes your jump in surprise. When you manage to calm yourself down, however, you realize who it is and what he’s there for.
You takes a few seconds to take a few deep breaths. It had been so long since you and Simon had done anything. Any time he went to make a move, Johnny had been there, pulling you in another direction. Though, you couldn’t complain.
You have little time to think about it as you hear Simon’s deep, raspy voice speak to you through the door. “Come on, love,” he says. “Open up.”
Love.
The way he fucked you was full of anything but… He didn’t start slow. He didn’t seem to wait for you to adjust. The second he entered you, he set a harsh, unforgiving pace. He fucked you. He didn’t love you.
Before you knew it, you were opening the door. If you pulled any harder, you’d be ripping it off of its hinges.
Your eyes catch a glimpse of deep, dark brown eyes and blonde lashes. You used to love those eyes. You used to want to swim in them, letting the dark abyss completely take you. Fuck, maybe you still crave that feeling.
“There you are,” Simon coos. There’s a smugness to his voice, as if he’s won something from you.
“Lieutenant Riley,” You say. Your tone is void of any emotion. All you were to him was a Sergeant, and to you, he was only your Lieutenant.
Simon doesn’t say another word as his large hands find their way down to your hips where he grips you tight. His feet begin moving, pushing you back inside of the room, before one of them kicks the door closed behind him.
As Simon reaches down to pull off the shirt you had been wearing, you push him away. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Simon is dumbfounded by the reaction. “I’m here to fuck you,” he says, as if it’s the most sane thing in the world. “What’s gotten into you?”
You shake your head at him. “No, Simon,” you tell him. “You need to get out of here. I don’t wanna see you anymore.”
Simon laughs. He actually fucking laughs. “That easy to move on, yeah? What, does Soap fuck you better than I do?”
“It’s not about that-“
“So he doesn’t?”
“Fuck you! That's not what I said,” You respond. “Just don’t wanna be around you anymore. I’m done.”
A pit begins to form in the bottom of Simon’s stomach. He can finally feel the weight of his actions. Every little thing he’d done to you was finally beginning to form into a huge ball of consequences. “So what? You in love with him or something?” He asks, envy taking over his demeanor.
“I didn’t say that, Simon,” you respond. “Not that it’s any of your business anyways.”
Ping!
You glance down at your phone as it goes off. A notification pops up on the screen - a little green icon.
JOHN MACTAVISH
Hey darling. Everything’s going as well as a family emergency can over here. Fancy a face chat in a few?
The message is followed up by a single heart emoji.
Simon lets out a sort of growl as he sees the message. “Can’t fuckin’ believe this - you can’t be with him!”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” You argue. Your hands reach up and push against his hard chest, knocking him back only a small step. “You don’t fucking own me, Simon. You never did! I have never been yours, and I will never be yours! You made that clear long ago!”
“So because I kept up my end of our deal - the one we both made to not catch any feelings, I’m being punished for it?” Simon challenges.
You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in frustration. “Oh my fucking god, do you even hear yourself? Like do you actually hear the fucking words that you’re saying to me right now?”
“If you really think that Johnny can fuck you better-”
“It’s not always about sex, Simon!” You interrupt in an outburst. He finally goes silent as you take a few deep breaths. “Maybe I’m catching feelings for him, and if you really don’t feel anything for me, then you shouldn’t have an issue with that,” you declare. “Soap - John treats me really fuckin’ good, and I’m not gonna ruin whatever the fuck it is I have going on with him just because you can’t keep it in your pants. Go find another soldier to make your barracks bunny.”
Simon is left dumbfounded at your words. There couldn’t be any way that Johnny could actually be winning you over, right?
You run a hand through your hair in exhaustion. “Listen, Simon, I think you should go.”
“Love-”
“Don’t call me that.” The way you immediately shut him down takes him by surprise. You’d never been so defiant with him before.
Before he can say anything else, your phone begins to ring. His fists clenched as he sees a photo of the Scottish Sergeant illuminate your screen. It’s a silly photo - a mirror selfie in which the man is poking his tongue out. It’s the type of photo you send to a lass to make her giggle.
Simon’s heart sinks into the bottom of his stomach as he can see you softly smile.
You move to look back at the man in your room, ready to ask him to leave, but he’s already moving out the door, slamming it behind him. It makes you flinch, but you quickly forget about it as you pick up your phone to answer the call.
As soon as you do, you see Johnny’s face, a sweet grin spreads across it. You get lost in the digital sea of his blue eyes as he greets you. “Bonnie!” He exclaims. “There she is. Was gettin’ worried that you’d fallen asleep. Didn’t wanna wake you.”
You shake your head. “No, I’m awake,” you chuckle. Blush fills your cheeks and you can feel the tips of your ears become warm as you admit to him, “I miss you.”
Johnny feels his heart skip a beat. “I miss you too, lass,” he tells you. “I’ll be back before you know it though. Just wait patiently for me, like a good girl, yeah?”
You giggle. “Sure thing.”
Meanwhile, Simon has his head pressed against your door. He’d missed his chance to make things right - to tell you how damn sorry he was for treating you so horribly. He’d miss the chance to tell you that he was falling in love with you faster than he could process, and it fucking terrified him. He’d never get the chance again.
Now, there he was, standing pathetically outside of your door as he listened in to your conversation with Johnny. He can feel tears well up in his eyes as he picks up on how light and soft the tone of your voice is when you speak with the other man. It was a lot softer than you’d ever given him. Why couldn’t it have been like that between you and him?
Simon shakes his head and grunts as he blinks back the water in his eyes. He pushed himself away from the door, and he made his way down to the training area where he took out all of his anger on a poor punching bag. By the time he was done, his knuckles were raw and bloody from the lack of proper protection.
As his brown eyes fixated upon the broken skin, all he could think about his how different the conversation could have gone if he had just opened himself up to you.
LOL toxic fwb ghost would pull up to u and soap’s wedding. Roll up behind you and tell u ur husband is ugly
Hes so angry and jelly and PETTY 😂
LMAOOOOOO listen, i have a lot of plans for toxic fwb!ghost, but this is just too funny to not think about.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
Soap and Ghost are best friends, so when Ghost sees Johnny move in on you, it makes his blood fuckin boil. Eventually, they have a talk about it, and they both agree that Ghost should be happy for them, and they don’t let it get in the way of their friendship.
but every time Ghost watches Johnny kiss you, it makes him so fuckin mad and he has to walk away for a bit.
and eventually, YOU get to the point where you can actually be friends with him again. you no longer see the man you wanted to give everything to, the man who fucked your brains out so good that you’ll never be able to forget it (and maybe u think about it sometimes when you’re alone at home with your fingers inside of your panties idkkkk), and the man who broke your heart before Soap came to the rescue.
you can actually hold a normal conversation with him without the extra tension. he comes over to your and johnnys shared home with the rest of the team for game nights, footie nights, and dinners. he’s at your engagement party, and eventually, he’s the best man at your wedding.
and as you’re in the dressing room, getting ready to walk down the aisle to his best friend, he slips in. your bridal party is putting on the finishing touches, and you can see his tall figure in the reflection of the mirror.
“i don’t think you’re supposed to be here, Simon,” you say.
he seems to ignore you as he takes in your appearance. your dress flows perfectly over your body, and he doesn’t remember the last time he saw your hair styled in a way that wasn’t up to military standards. your eyes are painted with beautiful shadows, and your lips? god, he wished he’d kissed him when he’d had the chance, but that’s all been taken away from him now. now, you’re marrying Soap, John fuckin’ Mactavish - the man who’d taken you from right under his nose. the fuckin’ bastard, but Ghost knows he can only blame himself.
he walks closer to you, now standing in front of you as your bridal party moves to tend to other matters. you’re standing on a platform, putting the both of you at eye level with each other. it’s quiet for a few moments before he finally says something.
“you’re so beautiful.” his tone is filled with astonishment and wonder as he drinks you in, but there’s also a hint of sadness.
it takes you by surprise. in all of the years that you had known ghost, including the two years straight where he fucked you like you were nothing to him, he’d never once called you anything like that. any compliments he’d given to you previously related to either work or sex, but this time, his compliment was one of pure kindness, something you’d say to someone you love.
and before you even have the chance to think over what the compliment could really mean, he speaks again.
“it’s a shame your husband is so fuckin’ ugly,” he continues on. it makes you laugh, but part of him isn’t joking. no, he doesn’t actually think Soap is ugly. he’s just jealous… insanely jealous, and he thinks you deserve much more than either of them could give you.
his heart flutters at the sound of your laugh, and the regret he felt years ago, when Johnny had first announced your relationship, still sits at the bottom of his stomach. with a heavy heart, he leans in and presses a light kiss to your cheek.
“see you out there, love.” he whispers before walking out.
a/n: HA AND THATS ALL YOU GET TODAY. NO COMFORT FOR ANYONE BABY
