Summary: The sudden appearence of certain pack on your life makes you question whether you're being watched. After meeting them, questions start to arise about who you really are and how the task force members feel about you.
Pairing: poly!141 x Reader [A/B/O Universe]
Warnings: mentions is marriage, gaz not being happy.
Words: 6K (ups...)
Previous chapter: Johnny’s Secret
Author's note: pls tell me this long or shorter chapters?
(I do NOT allow anyone stealing, translating or imitating this work)
Don’t forget to reblog, like and comment!
“You mean to tell me, that you had been disappearing to see a girl?”
“Ye donae get' it! I'm tellin' ye, it’s no' just any lass!”
Price leaned against his desk chair as he looked at the scene in front of him. A loved one faced Johnny and a fuming Gaz, who had been walking from one side of the room to another. Gaz huffed when he hear Johnny’s reply. Yes, he was fuming.
“Huh! Do you hear him?” He asked Price walking closer to his desk motioning to Johnny “Looks like that much gunpowder has gotten him”
Soap’s face hardened. He steps forward, closing the gap between them, frustration bubbling over. “Agh, shut it, Gaz! This isn’t some daft wee fling! I’m no’ sneakin’ around like a bloody idiot. I love her.”
Gaz scoffs, shaking his head as if he has heard a madman, but Soap kept going. And then, his voice softens, almost like he can’t help it when he speaks about you. “When I’m wi’ her… it’s different. She makes me feel, safe? Like I can finally bloody breathe without wonderin’ when it’s all gonna fall apart.” Price could see how his eyes soften, although he kept his fists clenched.
“Johnny If I see that smile on your face one more time, Ghost is going to have to take me off you with hot water” He growled “You don’t even know her!”
"I do know her! She eats in the meds office 'cause the Mess Hall’s got too many smells an’ it overwhelms her! She likes my jokes, an’ her nose twitches when she laughs! I ken everythin’ aboot her! I-“ He signed, his shoulders slumping a bit "Listen, I’m just sayin’ ye should meet her. She’s an absolute sweetheart, an’ I know ye’ll like her. Maybe even feel the way I do. I’m tellin’ ye, she’s what we’ve been lookin’ for, our missin’ piece."
Price analysed the atmosphere in the room. While Gaz looked heartbroken, his brows furrowed and his eyes dripping with sadness, his mouth slightly opened as if he wanted to say something, Missing? You felt like you were missing something? Aren't we enough? Aren’t I enough? But the words were too painful to fall out of his mouth. Johnny, however, was the living image of love stroked. Price had to be honest, he hadn’t seen him like that since he started meeting up with Gaz. Back in the day, he had been almost too shy to join their pack.
He was the youngest, the newest, and maybe that’s why he was so reluctant about the idea of adding someone else. Maybe it was the idea of not being the “missing piece” anymore, maybe it was the idea of not being enough. Maybe that was it. Pack 141 was incomplete until Gaz arrival, they all had said it, so why did they need another packmate? He was enough to complete the pack, they were a pack and they were happy. But the hole in his chest only grew wider each second Price stood in silence, listening to Soap talk.
Gaz looked at his Pack Alpha, while he leaned into the table, his elbows on top of it “You know that there is a possibility this doesn’t work, right? That it’s only you who feel that connection with her” Price watched with steady eyes how Johnny nodded his head muttering a small aye.
After a beat, Price continued, his voice unwavering.“I won’t risk the pack's stability for her… However” Johnny lit up when he pronounced that word “We’ll organize a meeting to get to know her”
Gaz felt his world turning upside down, shadows and flashing lights dancing around him as the distanced voice of Soap celebrating and laughing drilled his ears.
A forced cough caught everyone's attention.
Simon. Yess, Simon. Only Simon could stop this nonsense.
“What?”
Simon pushed himself off the wall he was leaning in, walking slowly towards the middle of the room “There's a problem in your plan” Simon spoke with a deep voice as he looked, with cold eyes, as Johnny turned towards him:
“She has a ring on her finger”
Since the day you had bump into them they had started showing up everywhere.
You tried ignoring them, you really did. Your routine with Johnny was still the same, sometimes he would pop up randomly in the same place you were. He’ll say with his characteristic smirk and shrugging casually Oh, I was just passin’ by, an’ I saw ye… Right… Then the other two started to appear. The one you had bumped into usually watched you from afar. It didn't matter where you were, he was already there. You could feel his eyes watching you, only for you to turn around and see some aviator glasses covering his face.
It was starting to get on your nerves, the idea of being followed everywhere. You had no idea if Johnny had talked about you or if this was some special agent protecting their pack kinda bullshit.
You knew it was intended to be subtle, but the large hulking man in a Baklava wasn't as unnoticed as he thought. While the other one followed you like a shadow, this man stomped his way through and every soldier around slipped away as fast as they could.
You were inside one of the med offices wondering if you should speak to Johnny about what had been happening. You knew he was coming to have lunch with you, he always did. It was a really good moment to talk about this. Hey, Johnny your pack has been hmm a bit intruding? Could you tell them to back off? Sigh. Maybe it was you who was overstepping, I mean, having lunch everyday with one of their packmates was probably considered intruding.
Before you could rumble your thoughts around anymore, a loud knock stopped your frantic thinking. With big strides you reached the door in only a few steps, the blurry shadow though the textured glass only seemed to grow bigger and bigger. You took only one moment to try to make your hair look decent before yanking the door open:
“Johnny I want to talk about- I- You…”
The words died on your tongue.
Instead of Johnny’s usual bright grin, the sudden appearance of the hulking body of the skull-balaclava man had you stuttering with wide eyes. You were met with Simon “Ghost” Riley, standing tall in your doorway, clad in his gear, his presence filled the small space, your face near his chest.
Your fingers tightened around the door handle, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were—face near to his chest. You tried taking a deep breath trying to calm your heartbeat, he wasn't supposed to be here.
Your mouth suddenly felt dry, “I- What are you doing here?”
“Aren't you a nurse?”
“I- I mean, yes?”
He hummed before bumping into you slightly as he made his way into the office, broad-shouldered, wearing his uniform, every inch of him radiating authority as sat on one of the examination tables, the metal structure screeching under his weight. His presence was overwhelming, filling the room like a storm rolling in.
“I’m hurt” He grumbled in a deep voice “Fix me”.
Your eyes betrayed you as they run over how his legs spread when he sat, his wide thighs pressed against the mattress, the fabric of his jeans stretching, his hands flat on the mattress, his forearms stretched backwards supporting his weight, his chest silhouette under his shirt, the sharp cut of his jaw beneath the mask. He was watching you too, gaze heavy, unwavering, dark eyes locked onto yours, piercing and unreadable, but there was something in them, something that made heat rush to your cheeks.
You felt hot under his gaze.
Turning sharply, heart hammering as you reached for the door, you caught a glimpse of him, just the barest shift behind his mask, but you were almost sure he was smiling.
Breathing deeply you walked towards him, stopping in front of him, almost between his legs. You tried figuring out if this was some kind of test; however, none of the way his eyes stayed motionless and his eyebrows furrowed indicated it.
“So, what happened… Lieutenant Riley?” You had to read his name tag sewn into his shirt.
“Ghost. Call me Ghost” His name rolled out of his mouth as he looked at you.
After clearing his throat he continued “Shoulder’s been acting up,” he muttered, rolling it back like the movement alone would emphasize his point. “Figured I’d get it checked.”
You nodded, steadying yourself, pushing away all hesitation “Right, let me take a look-”
The moment you reached for his arm, he caught your hand instead. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, halting your movements. Not roughly, but firm enough to make you pause and stay gripped.
You looked up at him, confused, but he wasn’t watching your face anymore.
He was looking at your hand.
At your ring.
His thumb dragged lightly over the small and smooth metal, a barely-there touch, but it sent a jolt through your spine anyway.
His grip didn’t falter, but something in his eyes shifted.
“Didn’t know you were married,” he said, voice quieter now, deeper.
Your pulse thundered in your ears. A sharp panic started swirling inside your chest, your ribs suddenly felt too tight for your lungs, and your throat tightened making your mouth go dry. The weight of his stare pinned you in place, knowing there was no easy way out of this.
“I-...” The word barely made it past your lips, weak, uncertain, halting. You forced yourself to swallow, to steady your breath, but the heat of his fingers against your skin made it impossible to think straight.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. He still didn’t let go. And for a moment, just for a brief moment, you wondered if he even wanted to.
Then—
The door burst open.
“Bonnie! Ye ready to-?”
Johnny’s voice, loud and full of its usual warmth, disappeared the moment he took in the scene before him.
Your wrist, still in Ghost’s grasp.
You, standing between his legs, close, almost too close.
You whipped your head towards him, startled, frozen in place. Ghost, however, was slower, his head turning with measured precision, a deliberate movement. His gaze was unreadable as he met Johnny’s shocked expression.
Johnny’s usual nice eyes had vanished. However, it wasn’t just because both of you in front of him. It was Ghost’s eyes. Dark. Sharp. Fixated. Like he was found doing something he wasn’t supposed to, something he wasn’t willing to step away from. Like a predator standing over its kill, possessive, unwavering, ready to strike at anyone who dared step nearer.
Johnny’s usual easy song smile faltered, his eyes darting between the two of you. His expression darkened, you could see the confusion flickering beneath the surface, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly “What’s going on here?”
Ghost released your hand instantly, pushing himself off the examination table with a calculated slowness. “Nothin’,” he said, voice level. “Shoulder’s fine now.”
“Wait, what about-”
He didn't even share a glance to you as he brushed past Johnny, exiting the room without uttering another word. The moment you heard the door close you released a breath you didn't even know you were holding. The skin he had touched tingled with the invisible promise of being touched again.
Johnny waited until he heard the door close to move. He walked fastly towards you, his hands grabbing your arms carefully, almost cuddling you in his warm embrace. His eyes search your face for any sign of harm. “Ye alright, lass?”
You hesitated for a moment. Were you? If you were, why did you feel like your heart was going to break through your ribs? “Yes, I think so…”
Although he nodded, the crease in his eyebrow only deepened. He tried keeping his voice soft, but there was something sharper behind, an edge of concern, maybe even jealousy. “Bonnie… what did Ghost want?”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out.
You wished you had an answer, you really did.
Because truthfully, you didn’t know either.
You were jolted out of your flashback when Johnny grabbed your shoulders, slightly shaking you. He was looking at you with worried eyes, again. “Ye good?”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Johnny. What could he possibly want to talk about?”
You stare back at him as you play with your hands. You had the bad habit of picking your hangnail skin when you were nervous, a habit that hadn't taken Johnny long to realise. He is good at reading people, especially people he cares about.
He grabbed your sweating hands, slowly running his thumb over your skin. He smiled at you, letting out a small chuckle “Lass, yer gonna wreck yer hands 'fore we’ve even stepped in".
His grip was steady, not tight but grounding. His thumb traced soothing circles over your knuckles. You tried focusing on the callouses of his warm hands, you reflected on how that roughness came from years of training. It was comforting. Too comforting.
You tried swallowing, but your mouth felt like sand. Calm down.
“Listen, it’s just Price wantin’ a chat, aye? Nothin’ to worry about.” Johnny reassured you, lowering his gaze to try catch your eyes “Unless there’s somethin’ yer no’ tellin’ me, hmm?”
Your breath caught, your heart stopping for a second, but you forced out a small dismissive laugh “No, nothing like that. It’s just… I don’t know why a captain is summoning me.”
Johnny hummed, clearly seeing that you were still trembling, but he did not push anymore. Instead he squeezed your hand before offering you his charming lopsided smirk.
“Don’t worry, lass. Ye got this”
Before you could answer, the door to the office opened:
“You can come in now”
It was almost funny. How they could see your nervous shadow through the texture glass of the office door. They had been watching how your nervous figure kept moving from one side to another as Johnny tried to keep you calm and still. Your blurred silhouette shifted, the distorted outline of your movements casting faint shadows against the dim light outside. It was funny, Ghost had to admit it. How even if you tried so hard to whisper, they could still hear your nervous rambles. Johnny knew they were hearing it, they knew it.
The room was silent, save for the ticking of Price's watches, and the air was light. Price had ordered a deep clean and for the windows to be open all morning, so the room smelt nice and clean, not deep alpha scent in sight.
Ghost stood near the window, farther away from the sofas. It wasn't a command, it was more of a suggestion so he would not intimidate you. He obeyed as he growled something about not even dreaming about being close to you. Which wasn't really true because now, with his arms crossed against his chest, as he observed yours and Johnny’s movements through the glass, he wanted nothing else to pull you inside the room.
Price sat behind his desk, tapping a pen against his fingers. He could see how tense Ghost’s frame was. He had been studying the room for a while. Gaz leaned against the wall next to the door, one foot propped up, his hands resting on his belt, his fingest casually hooked into the loops. His posture was relaxed, effortless, with an easy confidence. At least someone is relaxed.
“Well. Johnny has been outside for quite some time now” Gaz spoke breaking the silence “Doesn’t look like she’s interested in our little meeting”
“See that?” Ghost muttered from the other side of the room “She’s nervous”
Gaz scoffed as he pulled himself off the wall “Looks like she doesn’t want to be here.” He tilted his head as the shadows shifted again “I’ve seen better acting” He let out a short, humourless laugh.
“She’s scared, she’s shaking like a leaf” Ghost barked back.
With a shrug of his shoulder Gaz replied “Doesn’t matter to me” His tone was dismissive, his gaze never stayed too long on the door.
Price's eyes narrowed slightly when he saw your form stiffed when Johnny moved closer, his shadow nearly overlapping yours through the glass.
“She’s keeping her distance” Price said “Not too much. She doesn’t want to be rude about it”.
Ghost’s jaw tightened, though he said nothing. He wasn't particularly fond of small talk, especially when it involved things that did not concern him. However. His eyes never left you moving through the glass, his expression unreadable. He had to admit, you were an enigma and he was fascinated by you. He already knew about your little secret meetings even before Johnny's secret was revealed. You had caught his attention.
Despite his outward nonchalance, something inside him was on edge. There was something about you, something hidden that captivated him, something that made his chest rise with anxiety. And that bothered him more than he cared to admit. He wasn’t used to feeling this unsettled, not over someone he barely knew.
Ghost’s attention moved back to Price and, for a moment, their eyes met. He could almost hear the growl starting to grow inside Simon’s chest. Ghost was protective. He couldn’t help but feel the tug of something deeper than curiosity when it came to you. Price understood it just by looking at him. Something was off, but not in the way Gaz assumed.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Ghost muttered, his voice gravelly as he moved away from the window, still not breaking his gaze from the door. “She’s… interesting.”
Gaz gave him a side-eyed glance, clearly unimpressed with Ghost’s cryptic words. “Interesting? That’s one word for it. You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
Before Ghost could bite a response back, Price hushed them, the room suddenly silent. The faint sound of hurried whispers echoed in the hallway, the blurry shadow outside the door shifting once again.
Price’s expression softened, seeing how tense Ghost figure was. He spoke with authority in his voice. “We don’t know her yet, Gaz. Give her a chance. If she’s what Johnny needs, then she deserves that much.”
Gaz held Simon’s gaze for a bit, his eyebrows frown and his jaw tight.
“Yeah, well…” He muttered as he strode lezley “just because Johnny’s smitten doesn’t mean we all have to play along.”
He turned around, shrugging lazily. “I don’t like her. Don’t trust her either. All this ‘she’s nervous’ and ‘she’s interesting’ talk? Doesn’t mean a thing to me. I’ve seen people act sweet before screwing everything up.”
His hand closed around the door handle as he threw a glance over his shoulder, towards Simon, tone flat.
“But fine. Let’s get this over with.”
And with that, Gaz opened the door, the light from the hallway spilling into the room as he met Johnny’s waiting stare. Yours, just behind him.
“You can come in now.”
The teacup was warm in your hands, the delicate porcelain did not help calming your nerves but the soft smell of the tea reached a conforming place inside your head.
You sat straight on the armchair, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. Johnny had dragged his chair closer to yours, his knee nearly brushing your own. You had never seen him smile like this, his face was lit up like a child in front of a birthday cake. The soft clink of ceramic came from the desk as Price returned with a small milk pitcher, you saw how it had different flowers painted all over it while Price offered it to you gently. He had a soft smile on his face, it made his cheeks chubby in an adorable way you thought.
“Here you go, love” he said, with a small, reassuring smile. “How d’you take it? Sugar? Milk?”
A blush started to creep at your cheeks, for some reason the nickname made you feel fussy and with a small nod you said “Just a bit of milk, please.”
“Of course.” He poured it for you, precise and calm, like this was just another pleasant afternoon. “No need to be nervous. There’s nothing wrong, just a friendly chat.”
But it didn't feel like that. Not with the way the man with the skull baklava was looking at you, arms braced on his knees, his eyes fixed on you without blinking once. His baklava hid most of his face, the only visible thing being his eyes, they were dark, his pupils dilated. It felt like he was trying to burn you into his memory. He hadn't said anything since you entered, just murmuring a soft greeting… But now, with his gaze fixed on you, you were pretty sure he wanted to say something more.
“Ghost” Price barked with a tight smile “Ease up, mate.”
You watched how Ghost didn’t reply, but blinked slowly as if coming out of a trance and looked away, jaw clenched tight.
“See? Told ye, they’re a decent bunch. Don’t even bite.” Johnny whispered almost in your ear, never stopping smiling as he looked at you with such a shine in his eyes. They were so pretty. You had always thought it, since the first moment you met, you could spend hours looking at him.
You could only hum taking a sip of your tea, trying to banish the heat of your cheeks with Johnny looking at you. “Nice is a way to put it…” You murmured, unable to stop yourself. Ghost’s eyes flicked back to you when you said that, head tilting the slightest bit and, even if you couldn’t see it, a small smile appeared under his mask.
However, not everyone was happy. Across the room, Gaz cleared his throat loudly, arms still folded tightly.
Price turned sharply to look back at him, his cold eyes sent his sergeant a cold look before looking back at you. He closed his eyes for just a moment, breathing deeply before opening them again and smiling back at you. “Don’t mind him, love. Tell me, how’s the medical wing treating you?”
He was so nice. He was the nicest one, well, after Johnny. He was your Johnny after all. However, Price’s smile was so nice. The way he looked at you with such a softnest, he look so nice, so warm made your tummy flutter, a warm feeling inside your chest that made you want to roll onto his scent-
No. Nothing like that.
“Bonnie?”
You snapped back into the room, you looked to your right, Johnny was looking at you with a worried face. Right. Price had asked you a question.
“Hmm… It’s good, sometimes it gets a bit too much, but I like it” You tried giving him a smile, something to hide how nervous you were. However, it didn’t take long for it to disappear from your face.
A small smile appeared on Price’s face “That’s nice”
His gaze dropped to your hands very subtly, but you saw the flicker of confusion before it was buried under his usual warm and nice persona.
“Married and still making time for the military wounded. Must be a hell of a man you’ve got,” he said lightly, nodding toward your left hand.
Your blood turned to ice.
Your hand instinctively curled into your lap, but it was too late. The ring, your ring, had already drawn attention. You heard Johnny shift beside you. Not a word. Just movement. Stiff and controlled.
Gaz scoffed, sharp and low. “Figures.”
You looked up sharply, but he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. Just stared hard at the opposite wall like he couldn’t be bothered to hide the sour taste in his mouth.
“I didnae think-” Johnny began, but his voice faltered.
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly felt like if you were being choked. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always,” Gaz muttered under his breath.
The air thickened around you. Ghost, still as stone in his chair, had been watching you. Not your hands. Not your face. You.
Then he spoke.
“You don’t smell like him”
Silence invaded the room as Ghost's deep voice made that statement. All of them were thinking the same thing, however Ghost was the one to say it. Price didn't separate his eyes from you even after Ghost's statement, and you could feel how Johhny’s figure tensed up, his fist balled up and his shoulders tense.
You looked back at Price, because you refuse to even share a gaze with Johnny. You knew that this topic would come up sooner and later, but as long as Johnny could ignore it, you would play along. Fantasizing about your little relationship, about your secret meetings, about how warm your hand felt inside his own, about how peaceful you were inside his arms, about the butterflies you felt when he smiled at you.
Yes, you could play along.
However, your little bubble had now popped, revealing the sad truth about your situation.
You tried smiling but failed when a sudden trembling breath left your body “He… He’s not usually here” You could feel Johnny's eyes burning a hole into you, his usually nice smile now gone, a slight frown on his forehead.
Price hummed leaning backwards, a casual manspread as he got comfortable, his arms crossed against his chest “Hmm that’s quite dangerous for you”
“We are literally on a military base” You tried laughing it off, however the masked man didn’t share your sense of humour.
“That’s exactly why he’s saying it” He almost growls, a dangerous vibration coming from his throat “Lot’s of men here and you don’t even smell like your mate.”
There it was. The elephant in the room.
You kept your eyes on Price, refusing to meet Ghost’s stare even though you could feel the weight of it pressing down on you.
“I told you,” you said quietly, trying to steady your voice. “He’s always deployed. Sometimes even for months”
Silence.
Price blinked slowly, clearly trying to read between your lines. He didn’t push, not yet, but the thoughtful frown now tugging at his lips told you he didn’t buy it completely.
Ghost leaned forward just slightly, arms still crossed but his eyes narrowed, sharp like a blade. “And the suppressant?”
Your blood ran cold.
“I—what?”
“You don’t smell like an omega at all,” he said, quiet but firm. “Not masked. Not faded. It’s muted. Synthetic.” He tilted his head. “Not like your mate, not like an omega. It's like someone’s trying real hard not to be noticed.”
The air felt thick again, but this time it was colder, heavier.
“I take them when he’s gone,” you murmured, not quite looking at anyone. “It’s safer that way. I don’t like drawing attention.”
It was half the truth. You weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.
Price let out a slow, long breath. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, voice low and steady—but not unkind. “You know that’s not how a pack works, love. If your mate cared—really cared—he’d be making sure you’re safe. You wouldn’t have to cover your scent. Wouldn’t need suppressants.”
You didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Your chest was too tight.
“A bond like that should be felt,” Price continued, softer now. “We should know you’re his. But you walk in here smelling like no one. That’s not only negligence. That’s abandonment.”
Your eyes stung. You fought the tears threatening to climb up your throat. You looked down at your hands. “I am with someone,” you whispered.
Simon let out a short breath, almost like a laugh. “If that’s true, then he’s already forgotten you.”
Silence. A beat too long. No one moved.
“Lieutenant” Price barks as he turns around to look at him.
You stood up, stumbling a bit as you got dizzy from the sudden movement, your chair scraped back harshly against the floor. Johnny followed your movements, trying to stabilise you “I- I think I should leave” You eyes looked around trying to find a scape, your form frigid, like a deer in headlights “I don’t feel comfortable anymore. I’m sorry,” You whispered before running outside of the office.
Johnny followed you, only stopping for a moment at the door, to turn around towards his pack, a ting of sadness and rage behind his eyes “Well done, lads. Bloody brilliant. Just fuckin’ perfect.” He fumed befores sprinting outside of the door.
Price massaged his forehead and rubbed his face trying to keep his cool. He could only hope that in the process of losing you, they hadn’t lost Johnny.
You and Johnny walked in a comfortable silence. His hands brushed yours every step you took. His walk tried to seem relaxed, but the way his tense shoulders sway told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.
Your tears had now dried on your cheeks, Johnny had hugged you after he chased you down, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothing into your ears to calm you down.
He even offered to walk you back to your house, and after a sincere apology and a small nod, you decided to walk in silence. You didn’t really know what to say after what had happened, you had too many things to explain. But you stayed silent. Johnny had too many things to say, his mind full of different thoughts. But he stayed silent too.
The base was quiet at this hour. Only a couple of people walking around, moving from one place to another, probably returning back to rest for the night. The path was somewhat dark, a few street lamps illuminated enough to have a “clear” visibility if someone was to enter.
You live in another compound, away from the other medical staff, from all the staff. Johnny did not question it, they had done enough digging for today. However, it was usually higher ranks or special units that had their own building. Johnny’s blood boiled thinking of you kissing with, or married to one of the higher ranks. The image of you arm in arm with one of those assholes, with Macmillan, or worse, with someone like Shepherd. Yes, it made him furious.
Johnny could’t allowed that. You were so nice, so soft, so undoubtedly uncorrupted, that the mere thought of you being laying at night with someone with blood on their hands. You have blood on your hands too, Johnny. He could almost hear Price's voice. And yes, it still made his blood boil.
Before he could realise it, you were already standing in front of your door. You were looking at him with remorse, he grabbed your hands and he gave you his usual smile; however, this time it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Don’t gimme that look, lass. Yer eyes are far too bonnie for that.” A small laugh escaped through his sincere smile.
“Johnny, I-”
With a shake of his head he stopped you, Not even looking at your eyes anymore, his gaze fixed to your ring, as his thumbs caressed over it.
"He’s a lucky bastard, innit…" He whispered and it sounded like a curse, like a cruel joke life was playing on him. He tried rubbing the small metal band a bit, only a bit, harder, like he wanted to erase it, but it only turned around. A cruel joke, the ring felt like a curse and your doorway made him feel like the Gods were punishing him, pulling him back to hell, like those old Greek poets stories, dragging him away from his muse.
He raised his eyes back to yours, You had never seen him so serious befores, his eyes were so blue, so many things twirling behind them, you could see it, if you could only read them.
He pulled you slightly closer to him, your chest barely touching with every breath. His lips trembled when he tried speaking “You know, If ye ever need anythin', anythin' at all, ye call me, alright?.” He rummage through his left back pocket, taking out a small folded ripped piece of paper, putting it inside your hand "I dunno what this is, don’t care either. Somethin’ feels off, somethin’ weird happens—you call. Aye?".
Johnny shook your hands slightly before you could rebate this order “Got it?”
You nodded and Johnny signed, closing his eyes “Can I at least ask his name?”
After a moment of doubt you answer with a meek: “Sebastian”
He nodded, still with his eyes closed. Sebastian he thought. He had never heard that name around base, and that was for the best, because if he did, he would probably be already trying to find him. Accidents happen all the time in the army… Sign. One second later he smiled again, that warm smile you loved.
He let the name sit on his tongue like it burned, then gave you a crooked smile, too tired and too bitter at the edges to be real.
“Sebastian, aye?” he said, nodding slowly. "Bet he drinks fancy fizz water on purpose and probably knows how to say bourgeoisie".
You snorted—barely—but it made him smile for real, even if it was small and sad.
"Let me guess—one o’ them that gels his hair for PT. What a prick."
He paused, just a second too long, before glancing back down at your hand. His voice dropped.
"Still. He’s a lucky bastard."
Johnny nodded, slowly, as if talking himself through something no one else could hear. Then, with that familiar gentleness, he reached forward and tucked a small piece of hair away from your forehead before pressing a kiss to your forehead. It lingered just a second longer than it should’ve. Just long enough to mean something.
When he stepped back, he kept your gaze for a breath, and then another, before forcing the corners of his mouth up into a smile. Tired. Lopsided. Cracked with quiet heartbreak.
He took a few steps backward, his hand brushing through his hair before he stuffed his hands inside his pockets. He tilted his head with a lopsided grin. "So… see ye tomorra? Same time at the meds office? I’ll bring lunch, you bring… no Sebastian?"He said, mock-hopeful, with a crooked smirk.
He let the silence breathe, and then he shrugged:
"Kiddin’… unless ye aren’t."
A wink. A smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he turned and walked away.
And you stood in the doorway, already missing him.
The soft click of the door behind you sounded louder than usual. You leaned your back against it and let out a long, slow breath, eyes fluttering shut as the last pieces of Johnny’s presence slipped from your skin.
The house was dark. Still. The kind of stillness that pressed against your ears.
You stepped forward and kicked off your boots, the floor creaking under your weight. The silence wrapped around you tightly, until-
CRASH
Something clattered in the kitchen.
You froze.
Heart lurching, breath caught in your throat, you turned your head toward the sound. The darkness stretched before you like a threat.
Another noise — softer this time. A thump.
Your mind raced.
Had someone followed you? No, impossible. You’d have known.You’d have noticed.
Unless—
No.
No, it couldn’t be.
Slowly, your hand headed straight for the wooden small chest of drawers by the entrance. Your fingers moved without hesitation, sliding open the right drawer without making any noise and wrapping around cold steel.
The pistol was exactly where you'd left it.
You checked the magazine, thumbed off the safety, and held it low but ready as you padded across the wooden floor, every step silent and deliberate.
“…Sebastian?” you called out softly, every syllable trembling.
You stepped further inside. Still nothing.
Another cautious step.
Heart hammering. Breath locked.
The darkness stretched before you like a threat.
“…Sebastian,” you tried again, louder now, heart beating against your ribs like a warning drum.
You turned the corner sharply.
And there he was.
Not a soldier. Not a stranger.
Just your cat.
He looked up from where he had just knocked over an empty mug, his tail flicking lazily like nothing at all had happened.
“Sebastian!” you hissed, voice caught between exasperation and relief dropping the muzzle of the gun. You clicked the safety back on, slid the weapon into the waistband of your trousers, and exhaled a tight, bitter breath.
He meowed, as if answering your earlier call with a well-earned sense of entitlement, then padded off to his food bowl like royalty expecting a feast.
You exhaled a shaky laugh, the tension didn’t drain all at once as you poured his wet food in his little plate. “You're lucky I love you, you little menace.”
You shuffled into your room, peeling off your uniform piece by piece like shedding someone else’s skin. The ring came off last — cold and hollow in your palm.
A perfect circle, forged for a lie.
Not a promise. A cover. A fraud.
You didn’t look at it when you set it on the dresser. You couldn’t.
The gun followed, placed carefully beside the ring, like two parts of a story no one knew.
One you weren’t ready to tell.
You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your bare hand. The absence of the ring left a slight indentation.
You pressed your fingers there. Then slowly, your hand drifted to your neck.
No mark. No claim. Nothing to hide.
Noone to give explanations.
And yet — so much to explain.
You crawled into bed, muscles aching, heart heavier than before. The sheets felt colder tonight. Or maybe you just noticed it more. The lack of warmth, of scent, of presence. You pulled the blanket tighter, but it didn’t help.
Sebastian jumped onto your bed with a soft thud, laying down near your stomach, settling in for the night like nothing had happened.
You remembered Johnny’s voice when he said your name — soft, warm, like the sun through your window after a nightmare. He made everything feel easier, even now, even after everything. Like maybe you weren’t entirely alone.
And then there was Ghost.
You didn’t understand it. The way your skin tightened under his gaze. Like your body recognized something your mind didn’t. Something dangerous and old and… inevitable. A strange, quiet pull.
And Price… His presence had weight. Not crushing — anchoring. Just being near him slowed everything down. Your breath. Your thoughts. A calm feeling ivaded you, your heart beating slower and your mind feeling fuzzy.
This wasn’t about comfort. It wasn’t even about truth.
It was about the fact that for a few moments today — just a few — you’d forgotten to lie.
And it had felt… good.
Stupid.
But good.
You shut your eyes tight and curled your knees up, facing the wall, blinking slowly into the dark.
This couldn’t happen. Not really.
Not with them.
Not like this.
Not while you were still someone else entirely.
Part 2 to this post since a few people have asked!
Simon 'Ghost' Riley, who's pissed that he can't get your stupid little face out of his head, day or night, awake or asleep.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who has made a valiant effort in trying to avoid and ignore you completely, but you were everywhere he went. You must have been following him, he decided. You were literally 141's secretary, what did he expect?
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who watches while Kyle and Johnny treat you sweetly, thank you for helping out with their paperwork, even squeezing your hips or carrying your stuff for you, like you were some pathetic, weak, useless thing. You were in his eyes, but that didn't warrant special treatment, if anything, you should've worked harder.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who decides he's finally had enough when he watched Captain Price ruffle your hair, calling you a good girl for being so on top of things. That was his Captain. And being on top of things was your job, why were you being praised??Though Simon couldn't really decide whether he was jealous seeing you with his Captain, or whether he thought it was because you didn't deserve to even see the light of day. He would admit neither.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who finally corners you one day after a team meeting, waiting for the others to leave the room before slamming a hand on your desk, leaning over you menacingly. 'Stay in yer lane, rookie.' he barked out, getting annoyed at the fact that he found your confused face cute.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who had to reign himself in when you look up at him, touch his arm and gently ask 'Is... everything okay, sir?' God, were you trying to piss him off??
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who quickly leaves the room, feeling his ears heat up under his balaclava, muttering something about insubordination and a last chance to cooperate.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley who wishes you'd held onto him a little longer, and hates himself for it.
A/n: Ty for all the love on the first post, it was my first time writing! Lots of love! I'd really appreciate any critique or any direction you'd wanna see posts take, so just send me an ask!
I write for Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle Gaz Garrick, Captain John Price, and König.
I write the occasional Ghoap fic, but mostly either OC or fem!Reader fics. I don't cross tag or mislabel them. If it's a reader fic, there will be no names (or y/n) used, it will be either exclusively second person or a mix of second and third, it will only be tagged as Character x Reader, and any physical descriptions will be minimal (pretty much just a mentions of Reader having hair that's long enough to pull/pet lol). OC fics, on the other hand, will have a fleshed out, fully described FMC, only be tagged Character x OC, and always be exclusively in third person.
Requests are always open, but I will be honest that I don't answer them in "first come first served" manner. I just answer them when I get inspiration for whatever prompt you've sent in. Please don't let that stop you from sending them--I am always happy to receive asks, I promise that as long as they are nice, they are never annoying! I am also a staunch supporter of SALS and YKINMKATO mindsets, so you never have to fear judgement from me about any of your ideas. If it's not something I am interested in/comfortable writing, I will just not write it, but I'll never shame you for it.
I do ask you avoid sending me requests that include a) breathplay of any type (even "light" breathplay--if it at all restricts the ability to breathe even a little bit, I won't write it), b) degradation, or c) the boys or reader engaging in infidelity, as those triggers for me. The only reason I mention them specifically, and not any other triggers/squicks I have, is because I know it's very prevalent. Again, no judgement if that's your thing. Just keeping myself safe :)
I welcome and encourage feedback of any kind, including constructive criticism, on my full form fics! I also welcome and encourage you to add your own additions to my blurbs. I would be delighted to see them.
Edit: My stance on writing fics inspired by/based off of any of my writing :) (Includes a great GazSoap fic someone wrote due to one of my Gaz blurbs!)
Bold = fic
No bold = blurb
Ghost
Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Masterlist
Ghost/General's Daughter!Reader
Fevered Mistakes (Alpha!Ghost/Omega!Reader) | Less Angsty Ending
Mutt (Ghost) | Alternate Expanded Version
A Little Misunderstanding
Bumblebees
Rich Girl!Reader
Virgin!Simon Riley
Soap
Mutt (Soap)
Stalker Soap | Part Two
Price
Urges
Price takes care of you after you drink too much | Part Two | Part Three
Dom Price
Musician Price
Repressed Bi!Price/Transmac Reader
Kink Headcanon
Gaz
Modeling
Gaz/Ugly!Reader
Comfort
König
Mutter (König/OFC) | Part Two
König ABO
Mommy's Sweet Boy
Collared
Obsessed
Perv!König
More König Mommy Kink
Oh noooo how embarrassing
Rubber Ducky
A Bloody Feast
Lactation
Pathetic König just wants to be loved
Drunk Sex with König
Not-so-Creepy Landlord König | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Mother's Day
König's First Time
TF 141 (Poly/Reader, Individual/Reader, and Gen)
TF 141 + Eyes
Rut Inducers (TF141)
Undercover
TF 141 + The Best They've Ever Had
This Means War
Stuffed Animals
Captured!Reader
Duck
Wolf Hybrid!Reader | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Soap Interlude | Part 5 | Part 6
when i first heard about the male loneliness epidemic i was like oh yeah close camaraderie and bonding between men is often discouraged in favor of competition or, if not discouraged, at least filtered through a lens of individualism that precludes deep connections. and then i learned what people meant by it (men arent getting laid) to which i say skill issue
putting “lying to kids is ok” on the table immediately looks bad. but theres nuance. because kids deserve to have as much context and respect as anyone else you live with. but also. telling them that leaving doors open will make ants carry away the entire house is necessary until their brains can quantify the heating&air bill
turnnoffyourmind
dededos
theartofmadeline
titsay
2087
