She felt like hell. Her head was throbbing with a migraine, feeling like it was about to burst any second causing a sickening pain to run down the back of her neck, spreading through her left shoulder. It was sharp, agonizing halting any movement to make it worse. Her nose was stuffy, breathing uncomfortably through one nostril. Her body felt weak and drained, exhaustion settled in her bones. She remained motionless, letting out a pathetic whimper as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
Simon, downstairs, glanced towards their room wondering why she hasn't made her way towards the kitchen yet. He set the pan down, slinging the towel over his shoulder and started to plate the pancakes, "lovie," he called, " av' made breakfast"
No response, he glanced again. The silence unnerved him, that soldier instinct of him twitching. He slowly set the plates down, putting the kitchen towel down on the counter and proceeded to make his way upstairs. His hand trailed the railing as he rushed up, footsteps filling the quiet.
He pushed open the bedroom door, "lovie?" he called softly and stopped, concerned at the sight. She laid there, bundled up and half hidden under the covers.She let out a pained whimper and it shot straight through his heart. He's at her side in an instant, pulling the covers back. She hissed at the light filling her blurry vision as lifted a hand to set it over her eyes, "I don't feel so good" she managed to mumble, voice hoarse before it turned into a scratchy cough.
His face dropped, heart squeezing, "Shh pretty girl," he whispered with sympathy and moved around the room, drawing the curtains shut. She sighed in what little relief she felt, face scrunching as the pounding in her head didn't let up. Kyle returned to her side, feeling her forehead and sucked in a breath through his teeth, "Shit lovie, you're steamin" and without a word, he left the room making sure to keep his movements down.
He returned a few minutes later, a tray in his hand filled with various remedies. He set it down softly on the bedside table before pulling the sheets back, she moaned again, shivering. "Shh, I know. I'll take care of you yeah? Come on, sit up for me" his voice was soft as it soothed. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently lifted her up. Her head lolled against his shoulder, eyes still closed.
He picked up the tablets, breaking them in half so that they'll 'absorb faster'. He tapped her jaw, "Open up for me" and she obeyed, eyes opening as he slipped the tablets in. His brows were furrowed in focus as he worked to ease her pain. He lifted the glass of water to her lips and she weakly brought her hand up to steady it as she swallowed the medication.
"There we go, good girl"
She warmed at his words, leaning against his shoulder again with a content sigh. He picked up a damp cloth next, wiping away the sweat at her brow and she flinched at the sudden coldness pressing against her burning skin.
He pressed a kiss to her head, "Y'need to eat for me yeah? A couple of bites. I made your favourite" he coaxed grabbing the plate but she shook her head weakly, "M' not hungry" she mumbled.
Simon held her upright, smiling at her protested whine before turning to cup her face in his hands. Her cheeks squished as she melted in his hold, his hands were cold and calloused against her soft skin. She keened, a small dazed smile spreading. His thumbs rubbed beneath her eyes coaxing her to open them and he visibly softened, "There's my girl".
"You need to eat pretty girl, can't have meds on an empty stomach" his tone turned stern, but stayed soft, hand brushing away the damp hair from her face. His worried gaze stared into her half-lidded ones and she knew he wasn't letting her rest before she ate. She ignored the fork and took the pancake, biting into it.
His eyes crinkled with pride, "there we go, good girl", letting her lean on him as she chewed with effort, swallowing down thickly and winced as her sore throat tinged. He rubbed her back in response, pressing a kiss to her head, "i know it hurts, you're doing so good for me"
When he deemed she had eaten enough, he took the plate from her lap and put it aside. He urged her to drink water again before laying her down gently and slid in beside her, "proud of ya" he murmured.
He pulled the covers up around them both, pulling it up to her cheeks and tucked her snug against him before pressing a loving kiss to her head. She relaxed against him, enveloped in warmth. The pain meds was starting to kick in turning the sharp migraine into a dull throb and he felt the tension start to leave her muscles. He tightened his arms subtly careful of the pressure, "Sleep lovie, I'll be right here when ya wake up" he soothed.
summary : after Soap's dinner goes cold too many times, she decides she's had enough
you're never here
cw : angst
↬ intro & masterlist
She sat there staring at the plate of food across from her. Food that has long since gone cold. She picked the food on her own plate, moving it around despite having no appetite. The frustration and hurt was bubbling inside of her, visible due to how her other hand was gripping the edge of the table. She was on the verge of a breakdown. She tried to contain it, and tried to swallow down the familiar hurt.
She didn't look up.
The door opened quietly. Johnny, her Johnny stepped in, face heavy with guilt. His heart dropped. She always met him at the door, always greeted him with a kiss and handed him a glass of water, "Hydrate" she would say before dragging him towards the kitchen where she had already made dinner for him. His bonnie always took such great care of him.
He looked at the table, set with pretty napkins, plate piled high with his favourite food, drinks waiting. Food that was usually steaming and warm, the aroma which filled the house. Instead the house was silent, devoid of her chattering and concerned questions, 'How was your day?', 'the recruits give you trouble?', 'do you need me to yell at Price?', 'did you eat the lunch I packed?' instead of the love he usually received as she took his jacket, he met heartbreak instead.
"Bonnie-" he started, voice a whisper, ready to spew the same usual excuses, 'i lost track of time', 'Price kept us late' and the famous one, the one she always took with no complaints, 'I promise to be here on time, next time' But deep down he somehow knew, his words can't fix it. Not tonight.
Would there be a next time?
Her head snapped up, glowering and he winced. God, the tears streaming down her face, it shot straight through him. It wasn't hurt this time, no, this was anger. Pure frustration and betrayal. He closed his mouth and denied himself the action of lowering his head in shame. He did this. He won't hide like a coward. He'll face the consequences like a soldier does.
But that's the problem wasn't it, always a soldier but never the man she needed.
"This was the fifth time Soap" her voice was shaking.
Not Johnny, Soap. She never called him Soap, unless it was serious. His mind flashed with fragments of the past, the previous time she called him by his call sign and it didn't end well. It ended in slammed doors and days long silence.
"Bonnie ah tried-" he could feel the lump in his throat, scots accent thick.
She gave a bitter chuckle glancing down at her plate, a dismissive sound. The sound of something delicate shattering. When she looked up at him, he felt his blood run cold. There it was, resignation. She pushed up from her chair and he stepped forward, desperation as he reached for her, "Lass please-"
She jerked away, like his touch repulsed her and Soap's throat tightened. Did he already lose her?
"Don't you dare. You promised tonight was going to be different. You were supposed to be here 2 hours ago!" She snapped, no longer trying to understand. No longer accepting his absence. He flinched and his hand dropped, defeated, "I know" his replied lowly. That was it, no pleading apology. Just acceptance.
She scoffed, "Yeah you always 'know', you're always sorry. Like the last time you've promised," she retorted, her vision was blurry as the tears ran hot. The tension in the air was a live wire. One wrong word from him and this could turn into something ugly. Something neither of them would be able to take back. So he tried to navigate it, delicately.
"Bonnie, it's not like I want this. I don't do it on purpose-"
"Could've fooled me" she spat and he tensed, fists clenching again. He could feel his own frustration threatening to burst. But he swallowed it down, "You have to understand, this job-"
She throws her hands up, "Yeah I know, it comes first like you've reminded me so many times" she pushed past him. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, "And wha is it ye want me to do bon? Quit?" He called helplessly, "Would tha make ye happy?" He snapped, regret came fast.
She spun around, an incredulous fire burning in her eyes, "Don't you dare put this on me! I won't ever ask you to quit. I'm not asking to be first! I just want you to fucking show up like you always promise!" Her voice raised, she was yelling now.
"Ah cannae help it!" He roared, echoing in the apartment, "A've priorities to tend tae!", he was angry yes, but not at her. At himself. There was pain in his eyes, a helplessness that begged to be understood.
Silence fell for a beat as she gaped at him, dissapointed, "And what about me Johnny? Am I not a priority?" Her tone was soft now, hurt as her eyes met his.
His heart shattered further. Devastation flashing across his face, "Ye are. Yer important to me, I love you lass" his voice was strained. His blue eyes stung.
She shook her head sadly, "But not enough. If this is how our relationship's going to be...I don't want that future" she whispered before promptly leaving the room, choking down a sob as she prepared to pack a bag.
"where ye going?" he calls out helplessly, head hanging low. she didn't answer. but he knew. he knew by her retreat, by the way his blood turned cold at the scuffling.
The sound of a suitcase zipper sealed it.
He falls silent, urgently searching for the right words. Something to fix this. To reassure her. Anything. But it wouldn't come. She was right.
His heart ached, longing to reach out and hold her close.
and when she pushed past him, seemingly in a rush, not able to look at him. because even a glance from him was enough to make her reconsider, to make her run back into his arms seeking the same reassurance he always gave her. he was left standing there, in their shared apartment, in the ruins of their relationship.
summary : in a fit of anger he throws a cup against the wall. except it was her mother's cup. the heirloom her mother gave his lovie before she died
broken porcelain
cw : violence. angst.
screaming. that's how the fight they're currently having is going. his voice booms, echoing off the walls. she yells back, fed up, face red with anger. neither of them know what the fight is about anymore. it was tension gathered over months finally boiling over. something about him going dark without communication for weeks. something about her not understanding his job.
he could at least send a text, she said.
she knew what she signed up for, he protested.
she didn't flinch when his hand came down in anger, slapping the counter with a sharp thud. not her, never her. however the fury was visible, it was heard. he gestured sharply, eyes cold. she gripped her hair in frustration. the fight was getting nowhere. now it was just sarcastic insults being hurled at each other. the tension was stretched thin like a live wire.
it happened in slow motion. she watched as he picked up the cup in a haste, anger clouding his judgement. it took her a second to register what he held in his hands. and the second she realised, her heart dropped with dread.
"no-!" she screamed reaching out. it was too late, the cup left his hands and hurled through the air with a terrifying speed. she could only watch as her favourite cup, the one her mother gave her before she died, shattered against the wall. fury marking it's destruction. at the same time, her heart shattered.
it was visible the moment it clicked in his eyes, the moment the sickening realisation flickered. how his impulsive decision fractured the fragile glass of their relationship.
"no-" she repeated, softer this time as she scrambled towards the broken pieces. a hope that if she got there quickly, it would somehow put it back together. reverse the moment. her throat felt thick as she kneeled, eyes tearing up.
Simon stood silent behind her. he watched as guilt, sharp and aching took hold of him, flooding his system.
she let out a sob as she gathered the broken pieces of her mother's presence. she cradled them to her chest, "why-" she choked out. it felt like you had lost her all over again.
he stepped forward in desperation, "i-" he started but the words wouldn't come. he didn't know what to say. there was nothing he could say or do to take back the biggest mistake he just made. his fists clenched, guilt paring with fury at himself so painfully it was unbearable.
all he could do was watch with devastation as she curled inward on herself crying in anguish. however the moment her tormented eyes found his, he staggered back a step under the weight.
"this was all i had left..." she whispered. there was something else in her wide eyes. shock. not at the violence in his actions but that he made the decision to deliberately use her past against her in the most brutal way. her eyes searched his seeking answers.
his own turned glassy and he looked down. ashamed. he couldn't look at her, he was in disbelief himself. how could he do this to her? what took over him in that moment to hurt her like this? none of it was worth it. he knew what the cup meant to her, he knew of the nights she sat cradling it to her chest trying to remember the feeling of her mother's arms around her. he was there when her mother gave it to his lovie.
"if i could take it back, i would" was all he could whisper. defeated. hopeless. it wasn't pretty words but gut wrenching truth. she looked back down at the shards, cupping her mouth with a shake of her head.
a tear ran down his cheek. he stood motionless, afraid that if he moved she'll tell him off. tell him that she never wanted to see him again. he expected it, it was inevitable. he braced for it. he didn't even remember what the fight was about. if, by some grace, she decided to stay with him, this moment will sit like a stain on their relationship forever.
thin trails of blood ran down her knees from kneeling in the porcelain, fragments embedding into her skin. she didn't feel it or maybe she just didn't care. the heartbreak that left her body trembling was just as torturing as the physical pain. her breathing was ragged as she struggled to breathe through the sobs.
he was silent. he was torn between staying away, lessening any more possible damage he could do, and the urge to comfort. to wrap her up in his arms showering you with promises and apologies. but his soothing words wouldn't fix the situation, not this time.
"leave Ghost" came her quiet voice. anger, hurt, shock all colliding. she needed space, she needed to breathe.
for a moment, silence hung thick. his breath caught. not 'Simon' like his lovie always called him but 'Ghost'. he opened him mouth, maybe to plead, to beg but for once he denied his stubbornness. pushing this situation was only going to make it worse. so with a heavy heart, he left the apartment defeated. the door closed, the click sounding the finality of what was once love.
from inside he heard her cries resume, loud helpless sobs that would haunt him forever. he forced himself to listen, to face the consequences.
monster, he thought. like always, he broke whatever he touched.
cw: smut. literally just filth. mdni. somnophillia
↬pervert dean who likes to jerk off next to you while you sleep. you're used to sharing beds with the brothers when you're on hunts with them. it was bound to happen. you're on your stomach, cute face scrunched up and pressed into the pillow. he'd want to be the one pressing your face into the pillow. the blanket is pulled down revealing the soft curve of your ass. he spent too many nights going to sleep with an uncomfortable boner. so he decided one night he was going to take care of it. pulling his hard cock from his sweatpants, the tip leaking precum. he'd struggle to keep his groans quiet as he kept his lidded gaze on you. your brows furrowing as you shifted in your sleep, an adorable little expression making him throb all the more. he pumped himself in quick movements finally reaching his peak as thick spurts of come landed on his stomach. he had to bite down on his lip with a strained grunt. the next morning you'd innocently ask him why his lip's bleeding. bonus if he stuffs your panties into his mouth while he jerks off to keep himself quiet.
↬ pervert dean who steals your panties when you and Sam pop out to the gas station. he'd make sure the door was locked behind you. as soon as he heard the car drive off, he'd go through your suitcase overlooking the freshly washed ones and going straight for the cute little pair you had on last night. his heart would skip a beat when he finds it, immediately bringing it up to his nose and breath in your scent letting out a loud dirty moan. he'd carefully zip your suitcase and head straight for the bathroom, uncomfortably hard against his jeans. he'd wrap the cotton around his cock and jerk off imagining it was your pretty hands wrapped around him. he'd stuff the cum filled panties in his jeans afterwards.
↬pervert dean who can't help but stare at your ass when you walk by. you'd be questioning someone about a recent folklore sighting only for him to zone out halfway, tilting his head as he stares at your plump figure filling your jeans. he'd imagine what it'd look like fucking you from behind, your ass jiggling with each thrust. how divine the flesh would feel between his fingers leaving angry bruises in it's wake. or how you'd look, reverse cow girl, bouncing on him. the plush of your ass hitting his crotch as your sopping pussy squeezes around him.
↬ pervert dean who'd wrap an arm around you at night and pull you close under the guise of it being cold. you choose to ignore the hard heat pressing against your ass. he begrudgingly has to hold himself back from humping you. the smallest friction drives him crazy. his arm tightens around your waist. he waits until you're asleep before starting to rut against you, breaths coming out in quiet pants. the bulge of his cock slides against your warm thighs as he chases his release. his hand would slide down into your panties and curse against your neck when he felt the wetness gathered there. fingers circling your clit as he bites back a call of your name. your reaction pushed him over the edge. you shift, face scrunching together in pleasure as you moaned softly in your sleep gushing around his fingers. the next morning you're confused as always at the arousal dripping out of you and soaking your panties.
you both stand in the dingy motel room staring at the only bed in the room. your day has already gone to shit and the crappy motel didn't help. you let out a deep suffering sigh rubbing your temples.
Dean who stood beside you shifted awkwardly, "i could take the floor if you'd like" he offered.
you rolled your eyes, "we're adults Dean, we can sleep on the same bed without touching each other with like a bunch of horny teenagers" you had said.
it wasn't a big enough bed for each of you to stay on your respective sides. to make things more comfortable after you kept shifting, he wrapped an arm around you waist and pulled you up against his chest.
he was warm and you settled immediately, frustration turning into comfort. minutes past and his hand started to wander just to test the waters. you had unintentionally shifted against him, you ass pressing back into his crotch. he had sucked in a breath, tried to restrain himself but it was too late. he was already semi-hard the moment you two decided to share a bed.
your breathing hitched, his warm breath ghosting over your throat. "Dean" you tried to warm but instead it came out soft, a near whine. he smirked, "i know it was a bad day, let me make you feel better sweetheart" he coaxed.
he started to leave open mouthed kisses against your neck. and then his hands snaked into your underwear. he cursed against your neck feeling how soaked you were already. "i haven't even touched you properly yet sweetheart" he cooed and ran his fingers through your folds. he gathered your slick before bringing it up to rub harsh circles on your clit.
moans spilled out of you, grinding against his hand. at the moment, he started to rut against you chasing after any friction to relieve his aching cock. you could feel the pre cum sleeping through his boxers, smearing across your ass.
soon you cry out as your climax broke riding it out with his praises, "yeah give it to me sweetheart.... that's a good girl" he grunted against your neck.
he pulled his hand away to lift your thigh back over his leg spreading you nicely. reaching down he freed himself and you gasped at the feeling of his rock hard cock hitting your ass. he lined himself up before pushing in with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. sinful sounds left your mouth, mouth hanging open in bliss as he started thrusting.
"atta girl. taking me so good aren't you sweetheart" you could only whine at his praises while you're being stretched so beautifully by cock. every thrust had you whining like a bitch in heat. every thick drag through you velvet walls, fluttering against him. you could feel every ridge. every vein. you clenched down and his grip tightened on your hip, sure to leave bruises.
this man doesn't grunt. he growls. how could he not when your pussy was so warm, the heat and arousal welcoming him so easily. obscene wet sounds filled the room. squelches. skin slapping skin.
soon you cried out his name again, gushing around him. but he didn't stop. this went on for multiple rounds. the worries of the day now forgotten as loads of his cum leaked from your raw pussy. he pulled out briefly, still hard, only to run it between your puffy folds, his tip nudging your swollen clit earning a twitch from you.
with a low chuckle he pushed into your sopping pussy again.
summary : thinking about Dean when you walk in on him losing his temper. ・₊✧
cw : violence. angst. comfort
the mirror shatters. that's the first thing you hear. it echoes through the walls and you jump, startled.
next a loud crash is heard along with an angry grunt. you stand up realising it's coming from Dean's room. your heart thuds anxiously as you decide to go investigate.
pushing open the door, "Dean?" you call softly but he doesn't hear you. you let out a quiet gasp at the state of the room. completely wrecked. the tv is smashed. furniture turned over. the mirror is broken from a punch, you recognise the pattern
you look up in surprise, Dean stands with his back towards you. heaving from fury. his fists clench while he looks around for something else to break. he was trembling.
you could feel the tension in the air which only made your heart race, an instinct to flee suddenly flaring to life. you stepped forward avoiding the broken glass.
before you could call his name again, he lunged forward and grabbed something else. turning around, he swung it to the ground. his eyes found your figure too late. it hit the ground with a sickening sound and shattered. glass flew everywhere.
on instinct you let out a startled sound, arms coming up to cover your head as you angled your body away. Dean's blood turned cold at the sound.
a heavy silence fell. for a moment he froze in realisation. the rage drained from his face instantly and he stumbled over to you, "Baby- fuck" he cursed, swallowing thickly as guilt filled him.
you turned back, a hint of fear lingered in your eyes. not of him. never of him because you knew he'd never hurt you. but of the moment, of everything happening so suddenly. his heart broke.
his hands wrapped worriedly around your forearms gently but firm as he scanned you for injuries. the panic fading to relief not seeing cuts drops on your body.
"look at me please" he whispered a plea
at your teary eyes his hands came up to cup your face, "im sorry, i didn't see you" his voice cracked halfway through.
you were silent as he gathered you in his arms, wrapping you up in a tight embrace. he whispered a repeated 'im sorry' a futile attempt to try and reverse what happened.
he pressed a kiss to your temple, eyes were devastated. his arms tightened as he whispered your name, terrified of what the outcome might be. he braced himself for recoil. for fear. for you leaving.
instead, you slid a hand up, resting softly over his pec. a reassurance. you weren't mad. you weren't afraid. just coming down from the moment. his breath hitched, heart thumping wildly. the reassurance washed over him like a wave. he only squeezed his eyes shut, head dipping and nuzzled your neck, grateful.
Simon with a clingy dovie who has to be touching him at all times. in sleep she's wrapped around him like a cat, legs tangled with his, arms snaked around his ribs and face nuzzled in his neck. he could not be happier as he holds her close, kissing the top of her head before drifting off himself.
in the morning when he has to get up for work it's worse. the gruelling sound of his alarm wakes him up, it takes him a second to come to but the first thing he feels every morning is your warmth on top of him. he has to shake you awake gently, your soft snores making him smile, "dovie, i hav' to get up" he mumbles lowly in your ear.
her brows furrow displeased, even in sleep refusing to let go of him. his chest rumbles at the sight, a fond chuckle leaving him. he gives it a few more minutes before having to pry her from him causing his dovie to let out a small whine of protest before reluctantly having to let go. only to cuddle up with his pillow to make up for the loss of contact. it's not the same but it still smells like him and the scent of Simon always comforts her
he begrudgingly gets ready, always giving her a kiss on the forehead before leaving for work with an aching heart. it doesn't help when she catches his hand before he can step away and holds on tightly even if just a few seconds. she craves his warmth. it's her safest place in the world.
knowing what he does for a living, how dangerous and risky it is, makes it worse. it makes it hurt all the more when she has to let go.
mornings after sex was something he cherished deeply. clinging tightly to him like a koala, he carried her to the kitchen. she would protest softly when he intends to put her down on the counter. he sighs, "let go dovie, i can't make pancakes with you in my arms" he does anyway.
when watching tv together, you always sit in his lap. he plays with her hands affectionately, pressing kisses to each of her finger tips. which prompts his dovie to pepper his face with kisses. a kiss for each scar. his heart would melt, squeezing painfully almost like her love is too much to handle. but he embraces it with worship.
when he's cooking or on a call with someone at base she would stand behind him, wrap her arms around his waist and lay her cheek against his back. nothing else, just holding him. he stutters a response into the phone or the knife would still mid air before a wide grin spreads across him. he puts down whatever he was business with, turns around in her arms and lifts her before pressing a kiss to her cheek. just so he could hold her and resume to whatever he was doing.
out in public she would have to be touching him the whole time. interlacing her fingers or gripping the back of his hoodie. clutching his arm when something upsets her. he stares down at his dovie, dark eyes heavy with love.
his arms would cage her on either side of the grocery cart, walking with her down the aisle. other times if she got tired he'd crouch down and let her jump on his back, lifting her effortlessly. hands securing her thighs tightly. he'd carry her everywhere if she asked.
he feels peaceful, knowing she's in his arms and nothing could get to her without stepping over his corpse first. it makes it easier to keep an eye on her.
Helllloooo! May I humbly request Simon and plus size reader where she’s just been attacked/mugged, Simon happens to be on the street when it happened and he takes her back to his place to help clean her up
here you go love!! happy to write your request, hope you enjoyed it ‹𝟹‹𝟹
summary : simon stumbles upon a civilian getting robbed and decides to take her back to his place to patch her up.
his new dovie got mugged [ghost x plus!reader]
cw : angst. fluff
a/n : chat i suck at writing summaries so bear with me please 😩✋🏼
"Somebody help me please!" she called out. Desperate, panicked and terrified.
That was the first thing Simon heard as he jogged down the path. His body tensed, soldier instincts honed over years, flared. He rounded the corner.
A man pointing a gun at a woman, who laid on the ground clutching her arm, bleeding from an earlier knife wound. Which was before the man took out the gun. she clutched her purse.
all this racket for money, Simon thought disgruntled.
The man hadn't noticed him yet but the woman did. She glanced over with teary eyes which flickered with relief. Something in Simon's chest clenched tight. His gaze darkened.
"I'll shoot-" he noticed Simon and immediately pivoted towards him pointing the shaking gun, "this ain't your business, fuck off or I'll kill you too" the man spat , eyes now showing panic as he briefly looked over the towering figure in front of him. Fear bloomed on his face, clearly intimated by the large muscular figure in front of him. Simon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
not so tough now that I'm here. If he didn't have a gun, he would have been long gone.
"bloody pathetic" was all Simon said, muttered with a scoff.
He moved fast and the man barely had a chance to react before his wrist was twisted painfully with a crack. Broken. Simon grunted in satisfaction. The guy let out a pain filled shout, gun clattering to the floor.
Simon wasn't done with him, he shoved him back harshly in order to step in between him and the pretty dovie. He glanced back once.
good, she's not panicking.
Simon stepped forward and picked the guy up by the neck, lifting him and giving a harsh choke. The man clawed at his hand, but he was no match for Simon's strength. Simon leaned in, "Run" came darkly, cold before he dropped him. The man fell to the ground and immediately scrambled to get away. Simon's eyes followed him, flat almost bored. His consequences came later, for now, Simon needed to give all his attention to his the dovie.
Once he was out of sight, Simon turned around, rough expression softening. He held a hand out to her, "you alrigh'?" he asked, voice warm now..
She studied the man in front of her, skull mask hiding most of his expression. Big man, arms like tree trunks and a chest strong enough to stop a car. An immovable force, dangerous. She recalled how easily he disarmed the man, like muscle memory and how he lifted him. Without struggle. This was someone lethal.
And yet she felt safer in his presence than she did walking out of her apartment alone this morning.
Simon stilled slightly when her warm hand slid into his. Effortlessly, he tugged her up running his eyes down her body, noting every curve.
Respectfully of course, he couldn't help it for it was a soldier's instinct after all. His eyes lingered on the plush of her thighs, which were hugged tight by the shorts she was wearing, all scuffed up and bruised pretty. A muscle in his jaw jumped, he'd rather be the one to leave finger shaped bruises.
His eyes ascended, past full hips that's particularly begging to be gripped and held. A tummy bulge, warmth that's different to the hardness he's accustomed to. This was something to hold, to cup with loving hands when tangled under the sheets. There was hunger in his eyes now and a feeling of satisfaction as she froze under his heavy gaze. She went still like prey being tracked by a predator.
Only when his eyes lingered on her cleavage, longer deemed than needed, did he realise she was speaking to him. He couldn't stop his expression from softening when he saw her tears, leftover shock still reflected in her eyes.
"thank you" she breathed as if it was all she could manage. Her voice drifted through his ears sending a tingle down his spine.
She could barely get the words out but he didn't mind it, he gently took her arm in his hold inspecting the cut. Not fatal but needs to be bandaged and cleaned to avoid risk of infection. He picked up the man's gun, stuffing it into the back of his belt before nodding in a direction.
"follow me, I'll bandage tha' back a' my place" Simon's spoke, voice gruff yet uncharacteristically kind. Soap would have a laugh if he saw his mate so affected by a random civilian.
She didn't argue, adrenaline faded as tiny tremors wrecked her body and chose to follow her saviour's path. She felt her face heat up when his large hand rested on her back, guiding her. The heat of his palm soaked through her shirt.
When they stood in the door of Simon's apartment she was surprised to see the condition. Clean, extremely so to the point of, if she didn't know better, would have thought this place was vacant. Minimum furniture. A punching bag hung in the corner. Other than that, practical.
She hesitated, looking up at him awaiting direction. She was still all over the place. He huffed, more in fond affection than annoyance.
"sit" came his order guiding her to the couch by her shoulders. He was quick to grab a nearby med kit and this hunk of a man kneeled in front of her. She looked down timidly when his dark eyes gazed into hers, "you didn't have to do this. you've already saved my life" she joked lightly, a poor attempt at humour after a near death situation.
god, he wanted nothing more but to cup her squishy cheeks and promise her safety. That she'll never have to worry about something like that again.
He clicked his tongue in disaproval before gently grabbing her arm. She hissed when the antiseptic made contact with her cut, his grip tightened slightly, anchoring.
"the name's Simon" came his voice again, finishing up the bandage. His attempt of distracting her thoughts, trying to ease her body back into normalcy. He felt her body relax under his touch, tension slowly easing out.
good, she feels safe.
She replied with her own name before holding her hand out, still trembling, "it's nice to meet you Simon although I wish we would have met under better circumstances" she giggled. He almost swooned at the melodic sound.
One hand resting warm on her thigh, his thumb rubbed soothing circles just above her knee. His other took her hand and shook it lightly. The soft warm contact of her skin made his heart flutter and he cleared his throat.
He ended up giving her his number, for 'emergencies'. She gladly accepted and had called that night under the guise of thanking him again. She wanted him to have record of her number. He knew this and teased, "if you wanted to talk dovie, all you had to do was ask" his voice slid under her ribcage straight to her heart which skipped a beat. He heard the hitch in her breath before she responded shyly.
Little did she know that Simon went out that night, gun in hand. He couldn't possibly let that guy roam the streets, not with pretty soft things like her walking around.
summary : 141 finds out their best mate is married
cw : fluff. implication of smut.
Gaz noticed it first.
She was one of the [soldier/medic/secretary] that worked there but for some reason she always favoured Ghost. She checked up on him, wanting to see his recent injuries. She asked if he had breakfast or ate something in the messhall. and of course, even though Ghost lied, she still gave him three protein bars which he, despite their surprise, accepted without complaint.
At first Gaz would have thought that maybe Ghost made a new friend but he mentally scoffed at the thought. It's Ghost. He doesn't do 'friends', the only people Ghost liked were the lads and the occasional competent soldier. So when Gaz noticed him, multiple times a week, actually hold a lengthy conversation with her, talking instead of his usual short grunt responses it was safe to say there was something going on.
Gaz nudged Soap to direct his attention over to the two who were standing way too close to each other as just 'acquaintances'. Soap's smile slowly faltered, brows knitted in confusion as his brain tried to work out the scene in front of him. "Nae, tha' cannae be righ" Soap remarked. "Hen has a motherly vibe going on, must be tha" he dismissed.
Then came another revelation, the soft smiles and giggles that left you when Ghost leaned close to say something. Ghost eyes crinkled beneath the mask. he was smiling.
Soap's jaw dropped, "wha-" he spluttered, "since when?!" he exclaimed dumbfounded but Gaz only shrugged with a chuckle, just as disbelieving as Soap was, "dunno mate. didn't even think he was capable of-"
Gaz stopped, eyes squinting before widening, "no fucking way" he whispered horrified. disgusted even.
Soap looked between them, "wha' mate spit it oot" he responds frustrated. Gaz pointed "she's got a fucking ring on er'!" he declares.
Soap went quiet. He was baffled and shook his head in denial. Neither wanted to believe that Ghost was going after a married woman. The final straw was when they saw Ghost whisper something in her ear before guiding her away, hand at the small of her back.
Gaz and Soap looked at eachother, indignant. No words were needed. They pivoted and stormed out of the messhall straight to Price's office
Later in a storage closet, moans could be heard. Inside Ghost had her pressed up against the shelving units, legs around his strong waist as they made out. Her arms snaked around his neck, the ring glinting under the dull bulb of the storage room light.
She giggled into his eager kiss, "Si, you could have waited until we got home" she teased as he trailed kisses down her throat, "fuck lovie, you always take such good care of me yeah?" he replied breathlessly before looking up at her.
His eyes, such love and passion painted them, oh so soft only for her. He leaned back in to kiss her softly starting to rut against her clothed cunt, already rock hard. A caring hand, especially hers, would do that to a guy. She moaned into his mouth-
Suddenly the door slams open as a furious Price, Gaz and Soap barge din. They took one look at the scene before overcoming their shock. Ghost's hand was halfway down her pants
"WOT THE FUCK!" Soap exclaimed stepping forward to rip Ghost from her. Price stopped him and turned his fury towards Ghost, "you're hooking up with a married woman?! Ghost, out of all the things- I-" he stopped, appaled.
Ghost just stares, a quirk at his lips and Price turned cold, "you having a laugh? I'm dissapointed son, deeply" he replied solemnly, shaking his head in incredulity, removing his hat.
She stayed quiet, heavily entertained as she and Ghost watched this all played down. Gaz stepped forward , tone calm wanting to defuse the situation "Ghost put her down. She has a husband!" He hissed and then pointed to her, "And you should be ashamed of yourself"
Ghost tensed, "careful" his voice dropped lower, a warning to Gaz while he gently put her down. He turned around towards them, arms crossed, now stood in front of her protectively.
She however, had enough, "Excuse me? I can kiss my husband it i want to", she stated firmly, arms crossed staring them down. Her lips twitched as she watched their expressions go through the five stages of grief. Their expressions changed from indignation to denial before shock again.
"Wha-?!" Gaz shouted, utterly baffled. Soap studied Ghost's face for a hint of falsehood. His expression dropped and his eyes rapidly glanced between the two of them. "yer married!" he settled on the realisation, taking her hand to expect the wedding ring. She giggled as he watched the ring as if it were an illusion.
Ghost took his gloves off, revealing his own band, a smug grin underneath his mask. Gaz grinned and congratulated them. Price put his hat back on, letting out a long suffering sigh and rubbed a hand down his face. "I need to retire" is all he said before he left.
a/n : ahh that random pint of inspiration and motivation strikes again. because frankly, despite what people might think about the 141 being organised, precise ect. In normal settings, it would be absolute mayhem.
Price
↬ god tier. this man comes prepared for everything and anything. Snake kit, traps, tactical knife, end of the world kit, emergency kit ect. and even wears one of those outdoor vests with all the little pockets and gadgets. very proud of himself.
↬ 'im too old for this shit' embodiment. tired of everything. wants things to be as simple and easy as possible so he has a list, a schedule, maps and multiple instruction manuals packed to make the process as smooth as possible.
↬ blasts his old man jazz music in the car, whistling along and turns it full volume because all the explosions hasade his hearing a bit wonky. That and also to drown out the men's chatter. refuses to take a shortcut which Ghost insists on. Price has a specific route marked on his map and they're sticking to it. whether they like it or not
↬ sits on a camping chair, beer in hand with a fishing rod. perfect image of a retired dad. Or brings a boat so he can journey out into the middle of the lake and sit there for hours, completely content and relaxed. cooler full of beers.
↬ orders the men to go get firewood. Does it old style where you spark rocks/ rub sticks together for sparks on leaves. No one's surprised when he's successful...or when Soap tries and sets one of the chairs on fire. luckily Price brought an extra one for this exact scenario.
↬ very serious about arranging the wood "it has to be done properly Simon" around the fire. stacks it like a jenga tower.
↬ spends the majority of his time yelling at Soap about 'camping etiquette' or teaching Gaz how to cast a line and how to know if a fish has bit the bait.
↬ grunts a "right" and assembles a tent in under a minute because yes, he's just that experienced from sleeping in fields during missions. old man stretch when he's done and steps back, claps his hands to shake off the dust before admiring his work.
↬ much to the team's dismay, his snores make it difficult to fall asleep but they manage because they've 'slept through worse'. Price sneeze scares the wildlife, echoing through the forest before giving a sniff and going back like nothing happened.
↬ the type to throw a snake off into the distance if one comes near them. he does not care. before he throws it out of existence, he grabs the snake and educates the men on what type it is and how deadly its venom/poison is.
↬ tells campfire stories about old missions. Reminiscent with a big smile as the men listen intently. a lot of laughs and heart warming moments between them.
↬ likes his marshmallows burnt black.
↬ takes sunrise hikes with Ghost insanely early.
Ghost
↬ forced to come along. just because he's military and has spent his life in unfavorable conditions does not mean he likes the outdoors. Grumbles the whole time.
↬ if he were to accompany Price on the boat, he doesn't sit down. no, he stands there, arms crossed glaring the fish into submission like a gargoyle
↬ he ends up scaring the fish away. Price yells at him.
↬ if he sees a snake inside his tent, maybe waking up to it's hiss. the snake is not surviving, it's head is getting squashed punched by Ghost's fist.
↬ prefers to hunker down in a tree but Price says ✨ no ✨ and insists on Ghost having the full experience.
↬ Ghost, while trying to assemble his tent, ends up getting hit in the face when one of the tent rods bounced back. Soap laughs so hard he cries.
↬ pops out behind the tree when it's dark just to scare Soap. Soap screams.
↬ Price does NOT let Ghost come fishing with him because Ghost's idea of fishing is shooting the fish. "its quicker"
Soap
↬ fucks around.
↬ will chase wild animals.
↬ climbs trees. pelts Ghost with acorns from said tree.
↬ brings a lighter for the fire despite Price's protest.
↬ goes overboard and hangs on big ass tree branches to break them, wants to bring the biggest one possible for fire wood just to show off.
↬ gives up. decides to detonate the tree instead. Price yells at him about nature preservation
↬ dives into the lake to try and catch the fish by hands. screams when something slimy touches his leg.
↬ hogs the smores, eats the marshmallows straight from the bag. gets into a fight with Gaz about it while Price rethinks the whole trip.
↬ climbs after squirrels and other wildlife for 'dinner'
↬ "put the owl down, that is illegal!" - Price
↬ tells ghost stories. Ends up scaring gaz who throws him with a flashlight.
↬ helps Ghost set up his tent after laughing for 10 minutes straight thus struggling to breathe.
Gaz
↬ boy scout all the way. Scouts honour.
↬ holds the instruction manuals and reads the map directions for Price.
↬ ends up chasing after Soap because Soap keeps messing with him, yanking the manual/ essentials and running off. Bonus points if Soap hides it in a tree.
↬ catches the biggest fish. Price is bitter. insists it's "beginners luck", congratulates him anyway with a pat on the back "good job son"
↬ HATES nature, not in the pretty trees way but in a 'freak the fuck out' if a bug gets near him. his backpack is full of preventatives. meds, bug spray, mosquito rub on, the whole shabang.
↬ the type to use a torch (Soap brought it) as a weapon against anything that flies. Ends up setting multiple things on fire.
↬ has multiple layers between him and the ground in his tent due to the snake incident. checks his tent multiple times because paranoia.
↬ stargazes. he's precious and watches with wonder. 100% tells the rest about constellations ect. Ghost joins him and listens, invested and causally brings up extraterrestrials.
↬ Makes the best smores and fights with Ghost about the marshmallow vs chocolate ratio.
