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chaosbarelycontained · 14 hours

Text

You Know I Think I Recognise Your Face

North Country Boy Chapter 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!OC

TW: swearing, angst, awkward teenagers (yeah, I know)

Words: 2.1k

Synopsis: Jules meets some of her new team mates and lets the Lt know where her boundaries lie.

Captain Price awkwardly cleared his throat, shaking Jules from her frozen state. With a pointed look at his Lieutenant, Price then addressed his new Sergeant.

“Drop your kit in your room and join us for tea, eh? Don’t let it get cold.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

Moving to follow him out of the briefing room she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“Ju…” Riley began, his voice quiet and low.

Her eyes glanced down to where his hand rested on her and then they were back on his face. She stared him down coldly without even a hint of expression until he released his grip and then she made her way out of the briefing room without a single backward glance, stooping to grab her kit bag as she passed.

Standing before the door to Room 3B, Jules stared at the handle and the card scanner above it. Price hadn’t given her the key-card. In the absence of any other option, she slid the card for her old room from the pocket of her pants and tapped it against the scanner, which chirped and flashed green. Jules smirked a little at the Captain’s deviousness and pushed down the handle.

The room was as nondescript as any other billet she’d bunked in over the years. She lay her kit bag down on the foot of the perfectly-straight covers and made a perfunctory scan around the space. There was a small window above the head of the bed, the sky beyond already beginning to take on the dusky hue of twilight, and a closed door to the left. Opening it, Jules was relieved to find a sink, toilet, and shower. The usual single wardrobe, chest of drawers, and bedside table completed the ensemble and she gave a small hum of satisfaction before making her way back downstairs to the mess.

Following the clamour of voices and the clatter of cutlery against china, Jules quickly located the mess again after Price’s rapid tour earlier. She pushed open the door and was hit by a wall of noise and smells of food from the kitchens. Casting her eye about she did a recce of the room and quickly surmised the order of things. Grabbing a tray from the stack by the wall she joined the queue at the hatch and then had her plate filled with a hearty beef stew and dumplings. Nodding her thanks to the server she found an empty seat at the end of one of the tables, filled a glass with water from the jug in the middle, and then settled in to eat her tea.

She’d barely managed two mouthfuls before her elbow was jostled by someone taking the seat to her left whilst another sat in front of her. She acknowledged both of them with a small nod and then went back to eating her food. When the expected conversation openers didn’t arrive she looked up to see both soldiers staring at her, broad grins on their faces. Swallowing awkwardly Jules offered them a strained smile in return but they said nothing and just carried on staring.

“Hi?” she said in bemusement.

“Hey,” one responded, whilst the other gave a “hullo”.

“Can I…help you?”

“Just comin’ ta gi’ ye a welcome,” the guy to her left said, his words thick with a Scottish accent.

“Thanks,” she replied, forking up another mouthful of stew.

“So you’re the spook from The Duke’s?” the other asked in reference to her affiliations with the Lancs and the SRR.

“That’s me.”

“Proper chatterbox aren’t ye?” the first teased, leaning his cheek on his hand.

Jules remembered him from the briefing now, one of the guys who’d heckled the Captain. MacTavish, he’d called him.

“MacTavish, right?” she asked.

“Aye!” He grinned, his eyes lighting up when she recalled his name. “That’s me. This is Gaz,” he added nodding at the fella opposite, who saluted goodnaturedly.

“Jules,” she offered, taking a gulp of her water as she mentally tried to match the names she’d been given to the list of 141 members that had been on Price’s data drive.

“Get an offer ye couldn’t refuse?” MacTavish pushed.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Captain there, gave ye an offer? Dug ye oot of a hole?”

Jules eyed him suspiciously and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Don’ worry yeself, I’m no prying. Ye don’ have te say.”

“Let’s just say I had a problem with some orders, yeah?” Jules smirked, raising her glass again.

“Amen to that,” Gaz agreed, holding out his fist which Jules bumped with her own.

“Gaz…that’s Garrick, right?” she asked, which he confirmed with a nod. “You’re from the Duke’s too, yeah?”

Gaz opened his mouth to respond but his words stalled as he glanced over Jules’ shoulder towards the door. Raising his chin in greeting at whoever had entered, he then turned his attention back to her.

“Yeah, I did my time at Kimberley, so did the Lt, actually. Hey Ghost!” he called across the room. “The newbie’s one of ours.”

Jules stiffened in her chair at the mention of the Lieutenant’s name. She saw MacTavish beckoning him over and held her breath, trying to focus on getting another forkful of stew into her mouth in an attempt to disguise the rising tide of her anger. To her utter relief she saw him shake his head and leave the room with his plate of stew.

“Thought we had him there for a minute, Soap,” Gaz sighed, shaking his head.

“Soap?” Jules asked, a little confused.

“Aye, tha’s me,” MacTavish said.

“Why Soap?”

“‘Cause he’s good at cleaning house,” Gaz offered, whilst MacTavish beamed at her.

Jules couldn’t suppress the snicker that bubbled up from her throat, grateful for the distraction. It was short-lived, however, when Soap began his “not prying” line of questions once more.

“So ye ken oor Ghostie then?” he asked, not missing Jules awkwardness.

“Like I said before, I used to. Not seen him in ten years,” she shrugged off the question.

“Ooooh, so you know the man behind the mask…” Gaz speculated, his eyes widening with the anticipation of gossip.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jules replied, swallowing the last of her water. “A lot can change in that amount of time.”

“But what’s he look like though?” he pressed, eager for any speck of gossip about their Lt.

“What d’ya mean?” Jules asked, becoming more perplexed by the minute.

“Never takes his mask off,” Soap offered with a shrug.

“You mean never as in…never? At all?” Jules’ voice was thick with incredulity.

“Nope, never.”

“Crazy-arse bastard,” she muttered, filing away that piece of information for later.

The two soldiers still stared at her expectantly, as if she were about to divulge some key piece of intel but she left them disappointed. She stood, scraping her chair backwards as she gathered her plate and cutlery.

“Sorry gents, it’s been a long and very weird day. I’m gonna turn in for some early shut eye ‘cause I’m sure tomorrow’s goin’ t’be just as crazy.”

“Too right,” Gaz agreed, but Jules had already left the table.

She deposited her tea things by the wash-up station and left the mess. The list of duties for the next day had already been pinned to the noticeboard opposite so she took a second to check it and groaned internally. For all intents and purposes it looked like she’d been let off lightly. There was an equipment audit scheduled for the afternoon and she wondered what that might entail but it was the morning’s activity that concerned her the most. It was a skills assessment which, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have phased her but this one wasn’t led by the Captain, it was led by Lieutenant Riley. Shit.

Jules’ plans for an early kip were scuppered. Her brain just wouldn’t switch off and, after a couple of hours of tossing and turning she gave up. Leaving her bed with a frustrated huff she stuffed her feet into her trainers and made her way down to the mess for a glass of milk to try and reset her racing thoughts. Voices filtered into the corridor from the mess and she slowed her pace, automatically making her steps lighter and almost soundless.

“Ach, come on Lt, gi’ us a bit o’ somethin’ eh?” Soap’s voice carried loudly.

“Leave it alone, Johnny,” came the low and slightly muffled rumble from behind Ghost’s mask.

“Not even the tiniest bit of back story?” Gaz probed.

“I told you, I’m not gonna talk about it. We knew each other a long time ago, that’s it. You old hags are gonna have t’get your gossip somewhere else.”

It was then that Jules stepped into the room, which fell silent as the three guys turned their eyes in her direction.

“Don’t mind me,” she muttered, keeping her head down as she searched for the milk in the fridge.

“You joining us for a brew?” Gaz asked, shaking his mug of tea in her direction.

“No, ta,” she replied as she located the milk and filled herself a glass.

“Cannae sleep?” Soap queried sympathetically.

“Summat like that,” Jules said, downing her drink and then rinsing her glass. “Night, fellas.”

With a nod of acknowledgement to Gaz and Soap’s chorus of “g’night”, she left the room. Ghost had remained silent, simply folding his arms over his chest, but she could feel his stare boring between her shoulder blades long after she’d left his line of sight.

* * * * *

Juliette looked up from her desk, startled by the cough from her bedroom door. Her cheeks flamed red as she saw Simon lounging in the doorway, a lop-sided grin on his face.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked, nodding with his chin towards her book.

“Wuthering Heights,” she groaned, dying internally at the thought of her messy hair and the giant spot that had erupted on her forehead the night before. “I gotta annotate three chapters for homework.”

“Homework?” he scoffed. “You’re such a swot, Jules.”

“I am not,” she protested, shifting a stack of notes underneath the latest issue of Just 17 magazine. “I can’t understand the bloody thing anyway.”

“You got Mr Benedict for English?” Simon asked and when she nodded he stepped further into her room.

Juliette’s heart skipped a beat and she almost forgot how to breathe when Simon leaned over her desk and took her pen from her hand.

“I had him too, he loves Wuthering Heights. You need to be highlighting bits like this…and this…” he drew circles around phrases in the book. ‘And make sure you talk about pathetic fallacy. He’ll go mental for that.”

“Cheers, Simon,” she beamed and he smiled back at her.

“Not a fan of English then?” he asked as he straightened up and looked around at her room a bit more.

She prayed that she’d remembered to put all her dirty washing in the basket and that he wouldn’t notice the poster of Damon Albarn that she’d ripped out of Just 17 and pinned to the wall next to her bed.

“Nah, I like I.T. and Maths,” Juliette admitted, and she really did.

She loved computers and how they worked. Miss Talbot had promised to give her extra classes on coding if she passed her end of topic test next week.

‘Told you, you’re a total swot. Maybe even a geek.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah you are,” he teased, laughing as she smacked him on the arm. “I gotta go. If you need any more help just tap me up.”

“Yeah?” Juliette blushed again, relishing the thought of maybe spending more time with him without Rob being his usual twatty self.

“Course.”

“Mint,” she exclaimed, “Thanks Simon.”

“Laters, Jules,” he said as he left her room, throwing her a cheeky wink.

Juliette groaned and let her head thunk onto her desk. Her heart pounded a rapid tattoo but at least she remembered how to breathe again. Lifting her head she gazed at the pages of the novel where Simon had made notes for her in his distinctive boxy script. She pulled the book closer to her, vowing to keep it forever, but then nearly vomited in embarrassment as she caught sight of the piece of paper that had lain just under it, the writing clearly visible. Down the centre of the paper was written the words TRUE LOVE with numbers next to each letter but it was the names at the top of the page that made Juliette want to crawl into a hole and never return.

Juliette Kelsall and Simon Riley.

She’d never be able to look him in the face again.

Taglist: @aykxz98

#simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #john price #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod mwii #ghost cod #kyle gaz garrick

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witch-oftheflowers · 2 days

Text

Does it hurt?

Ximena Riley x 141 Task Force

AN: OH get ready. Here comes some angst. This will get dark and emotional. So get ready ~

Masterlist This leads to events

Dim lights filled the space. A small confined room. A single chair in the middle. And a single person. A woman.

Her curls swept forward as she leaned in. Her hands bind behind her, and she softly was breathing. Trying to keep herself awake. Her deep brown eyes scanning around as she gave a small tug on the rope. She almost got it off.

But the door spilled open, letting the hallway lights flutter in. Her eyes linger to the door and the large pair of boots coming in. Gentle even, which the past few weeks it hasn't been like that.

"Ximena... Come on Lass just give us what we want." The voice was stern but trying to be gentle. A soft scoff left her lips as she shut her eyes.

"I told you what I know John... And I'll keep repeating what I know is true. I didn't betray you lots." Ximena stated as she scoot back in her seat. Her curls cascading down her shoulders and down the back of the chair. Her feet were tied apart. Knowing she can get out most holdings.

Price had a force thin smile. Rubbing a hand through his beard as he walked around her

"Anything. Give me anything Ximena. We have a faithful resource that said otherwise" he stopped behind her for a second. Softly yanking her curls back.

Snapping her head back as she winced in the pain. Her eyes snapped to him as she growled

"let go-"

"You need to give us something. We don't wanna hurt you anymore Ximena!" He shoved her head away as she groaned a bit.

"Then hurt me! I don't care!" Her voice was a bit hoarse. She felt the pain internally but as a trained soldier she never needed to show it.

She couldn't, it was a liability. It could risk her life, even now with those she loves. Her eyes stuck to the floor as she frown. A deep sadness in her eyes as she shut them.

Don't give in. Don't give in. Don't do it-

The door opened again and shut. Price went quiet as he stared at the larger man. A man he was hoping to not see.

"Ghost-"

"Let me at 'er Capt. I need a go...." His gravely voice was a bit softer. But the edge was clear. Even Ximena felt it as she sat back in her seat. Her posture corrected as she glanced to the man she loves.

Worse part was during all of this. She wasn't mad. She was just saddened by the leading events that lead to this.

Some damn bastard...

Her thoughts trailed as she didn't noticed Price left them be. Her eyes softly shook as she gazed down to the floor. No. No. Don't leave me with him...

His steps were calm. Walking towards her as he yanked her head up. Her eyes tried to stay stuck below her, but his warm hands forced to her look up. Softly he squished her cheeks as he forced her lips to pout.

"Speak up. That's all you havta do..."

"Never. Because there's nothing to say!" She spat at him as she yanked her face away. Glancing to the side as she noticed the torture tools in the room. All littered with her blood by now.

Her breathing became a bit shallow as she sighs. Trying to keep her emotions in line-

Ghost yanked a fist full of her curls as he knealt to her height. His brown eyes bore into hers. The mass wave of sadness and frustration painted his eyes.

"I need ya to say something. Anything. I do not wanna hurt you Ximena-"

"If you don't get the right thing you want. It'll lead to getting hurt more... So no." She told him with determination in her face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After viscous hours of pain and torment. Ximena's face was bruised and beat up. Blood was dripping down her face. Feeling her cheeks swell and her eye sight blur.

Cuts litter her exposed body. Her blood was splatter on the floor.

Ghost himself was litter with it even.

The door burst open. And a rookie coming in huffing, spoke up. Ghost was close to ringing him out till the words echoed in the quiet room.

"She's... Not the traitor..." He said as he stared at the two.

"There was no traitor..." He said as he noticed the pair stiff.

Ximena's eyes shook as she processed this. Her head rolled back as the blood loss caught up to her. She stayed stump in the chair as her body lost consciousness

Ghost stared at the rookie with blinded rage

"You're fucken kidding?! You ot to be fucken kidding me right now!" He roared the words as the rookie left the room. His breathing became labor, harsh and brittle even.

"you're ...fucken..." He let a sigh out as he ran his gloves hands over his face. Starting to feel terrible. He glanced to his wife with concern.

He did this

Did

This

The realization hit him like bricks. He was a terrible soldier. He tortured an innocent person.

He harmed his wife.

His other half. And worse he didn't believe her for a second. Not a second through the months of this rigours process.

Doubted

Her

For

Months

The words swirled in his head as he shut his eyes tight.

How could he fix this. Them. Their relationship. Their family. Their everything-

The door opened again as his thoughts were going a million miles a minute. And Laswell stared at the two. Her eyes shook a bit as she got the medics in to take Ximena away for treatment. Once it was just Ghost and her she walked over to the younger man as she touched his arm.

He flinched as he stared to the short woman. His eyes glazed as he wanted to cry. But he was forcing himself to keep it together.

"Laswell..." He whispered her name as the older woman gave him a soft smile

"You couldn't have known.. none of us did.. well besides her.." she said as she noticed Ghost flinch at the last bit.

"She was right... She's 'ways right ya know.."

"Usually she yes. But we didn't see it.. come on.." she escorted him out as she lead him to Price's office.

The trio sat and spoke. Even Ghost yanked the mask off as it felt constricting in the moment.

His blonde hair was buzzed short. As he processed the findings. His brown eyes bore to his boots as he felt stiff.

Yet his chest was pounding. Feeling his heart spike as he was still flooded with the pain and memories of her face. Of what he did to her.

Price was calm as he tried to pull the man out of it.

"Simon look at me-" he said as he got around his desk. On his knees as he stared to the already broken man.

"We couldn't have known..."

"But she did John." He said as he didn't look up. Besides he shut his eyes. Feeling uneased

"The person that gave us these details is being detained. They won't be out till we know why they picked her." Kate said as she stared at the two men

John sighs as he pat Simon on his knees

"Look at me."

Simon blinked a bit as he finally met eye to eye to his captain. His friend.

"She'll be fine.. have a speedy recovery. She's a tough girl- she's gone through a lot worse physically..."

"But we hurt her John. We. Her team. Her family. We broke her 'rust, we broke her. I BROKE HER." He roared the last bit as he didn't realize the hot tears drip down his cheeks.

But Price did. And Laswell. The pair felt sympathy in the moment. They didn't wanna ignore the mental damage this could cause

"Of course we did.. physically and mentally.. that was us. Mentally she might take longer. She'll need longer Simon. But we'll be here with you both every damn step of the way if we must. Because you two are family.." John said firm but clear. Making his and Laswells, along with the Task Force intentions clear.

They'll be there every step of the way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Ximena woke up. Her curls were pulled into braids. Tucked over her chest.

Her eyes stung a bit. Realizing she was out for a while then -

Glancing around she was alone. It was also dark outside. Middle of the night more likely. Her hands squeezed a bit as she was checking her body.

Hands still moving. Her legs felt like sandbags, more likely from the pain medication they had to give her. Her feet sore even as she knew the needles she had in them for a few hours did some damage-

The room door open as a nurse came in. She blinked a bit as she spoke up.

"Mrs Riley... I'll inform the doctor you're awake. We have a bit to discuss with you ma'am..." She said as she slipped out a bit surprised the woman was up so early

Ximena groaned a bit as she laid there. Her body aching as she finally felt the pain her body had to endure.

She had cuts in so many places. She knew she looked like a tiger now, the bruises would go away slowly. Her nails would come back eventually- her eyes soften as she sighs. Remembering that they more likely seen her bare thigh at some point. The small carving she had on her thigh from Simon-

Where was Simon? Her kids? A bit of panic filled her chest as she tried to sit up. A groan left her dry lips as she whined. Forcing herself up from the stiff mattress. Her eyes hazed a bit as she heard the doctor gasp as they tried to get her back down. She waved her hands around as she didn't wanna lay anymore. She has sores all over her body from being in that stupid chair for three months-

Three months...

And her babies had to be three months old now. Her family-

Her eyes snapped open a bit later. Light beaming in, looking around she didn't realize she blacked out last night. A huff as she got up again. Sitting in the bed, but her eyes shifted to the sight besides her. Seeing Ghost in the chair. His brown eyes piercing into her as they finally made eye contact.

"Sim-"

"Please don't talk..." Ghost leaned forward as he was pondering how to speak. How to try and fix his mistakes. He didn't know if she'll forgive him or the team

"I'm.. not mad." She said as she got a chance before he spilled his guts. She knew what their job detailed. She knew that at any given moment it all could be swept away from them. Like the rug tugged out from underneath them. And when she was dragged into the interrogation room, it just made sense. Sadly she knew since Soap had been injured, the team didn't trust just anyone. And she was just someone that helped from time to time. Even if they've all broke bread together in her home.

Ghost stared at her for a second as he took in her words. He felt his mind spiral as he pressed his face into his palms. Leaning forward into the bed as he stared through the mask holes

"But we.. Ximena we did so much to you. Three months." He said as he felt his breathing quicken and panic rise

"But I get it.... We just.. Simon we could of lost Johnny. Anything or anyone can betray us.. and I get at the time you all believed I did something..." She said as she leaned forward. A groan left her lips as she felt the stitches on her stomach ache from the pressure

"I'm not mad... I'm not mad at any of you..." She repeated the words as she sighs. Bringing her hands over his as she knew he was close to a panic attack.

"I'm right here... Hey I'm right here. Simon miede.. look at me.." she whispered to him as he finally. Finally lifted his head up a tad, looking up to his wife. And she broke in that moment.

"I 'hought I lost ya... I 'hought I wasted years.. I believed you betrayed us. Our family. Our promise..." His voice shakes, the hot tears streaming down. Soaking his mask as he pressed his face into her palms. Taking in her warm dainty hands.

"I'm sorry mamas... 'm so sorry.. I should of believed ya...I should of known you wouldn't..." He said as the pain raked over him. His shoulders slumped as he felt the weight slowly fading off his back.

Her eyes creased as she leaned in. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she softly shook in his touch.

"I would never .. and I mean it, would never hurt you. Or this team.. we're a family.. we're all we have left." She whispered as she softly hums. Her eyes flicker to his. Trying to range his emotional state and well being.

"How are you?" She asked as she waited for him to response.

His eyes soften as he peer into hers. Softly his brain swirled with so many thoughts. Their family had to endure these past months. Their new born twins, their elder children. How her family was left out of the situation. How the team had to handle and deal with the consequences now.

He ran a hand over his mask as he sighs.

"Not well... 'he kids miss ya. 'm not gonna lie, I missed you. I don't know it's been a storm without mamas 'm not gonna lie... I lost myself a bit..." He whispered as if it was a sin. A sinister act that he had done, and knowing he was here now. Hand in hand with hers as he gave her scar hands a rub.

" 'M sorry love..." He whispered as he pressed a kiss through his mask. Softly giving her a few as he wanted to make up for his sins towards her.

She softly watched him, her brown eyes soften. A small flicker of light in them as she listened to his words.

"I'm probably crazy... I know most would be outraged or upset. Probably never talk to you lot every again...But don't blame ya... I can't, if something similar happened I would of done the same. More likely would have to either way..."

Her voice was soft as she looked down, she tapped her foot as she felt an odd normalcy

"Did they say when I can go home?"

"Mmm no.. John wanted speak to ya..." He said looking at her. He never let her hand go, not wishing to make another mistake again.

"Ok... That's fine then... I hope soon. I wanna see the kids..." She softly smiled to him as she beamed with joy. A soft light.

Ghost felt like his wife was an actual angel, and him the sinner in church that didn't deserve the attention.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When she returned home. The kids surrounded her.

Her four tots were thrilled mommy was home. But she did look different.

Her leg had a wrap around it, on her thighs. Her curls were a bit shorter, mid back now no longer the hip length she worked for.

Her scar hands linger as she rubbed them over her sweet children's heads. Her body aches even as her eldest surrounded the thirty something woman.

Simon sighs as he swayed his kids off

" 'Lright tots, let mum breath. Go sit, 'M gonna help mum over."

The kids sigh and agree as they waddle into the living.

Ximena gripped his hand as he eased her into the house.

He knew she came back differently. Mentally and physically, she sighs a bit as they settled on the couch. The kids and her snuggles up as she softly felt peace creep inside her.

Simon sighs a bit as he was content with her finally being home. Feeling their home be full again, the light that was missing was brought back in.

And he knew that, along with his kids. He noticed the infants in their playpen as they were kicking and giggling. The little girls were excited as they heard their mums voice.

He went over and picked up the three months old twins. Bringing them over as he tucked them into his wife's arms.

"They missed you too..." He whispered as he knealt besides them. He glanced to his wife as he thought of her

She was his stars, the moon, and the sun all in one being. He sighs as he rest his head against her thigh.

The family felt complete now.

But sadly who knew how long it would take for them to heal. Or how this would effect the family structure they created.

Ximena knew one thing for sure. She missed three months of her children's lives.

Especially the twins she gave birth to. But only time could tell.

Months would pass since. And the family wasn't the same. Ximena softly spiral. Even had to go therapy since she was released.

She noticed she didn't have a bond with her twins. The girls seeking their father more often.

She felt terrible, like she was failing in life since she was released. Her curls framed her face as she sat on her bed. Softly sobbing as she didn't feel like herself anymore.

On the other side of the bedroom door. Simon leaned on it. Knowing it was his and his men's fault. They destroyed a very able woman. One that was once feared by many.

And turned her into a crumble of a woman. Now a shell of who she once was

And he knew. He softly created a monster of a woman. But not one to fear. One that feared others.

He saw the way she stared at him. Or the lads when they came over.

Soap was the only one she was close to now. Since he was injured during the time. He wasn't given the okay till she was released.

Both bonding over their trauma. Sadly for different reasons.

Simon slid down the door as he prayed

Prayed this wasn't the end of his beloved marriage. Along with his precious wife he had devoted all his time to. He prayed to whoever would listen.

He didn't want it to end like this-

Nor did she.

Both truly distraught over the relationship they had once. Where laughter was all the house was once filled with. Love and smiles was painted on the walls of the built home.

This home was created from scratch. Their relationship was crafted from time together. So much time together.

And tots that filled its halls. Because they had an undying love for the other. An undying devotion to each other.

But the strain on each other began.

Arguments were a bit frequent. Soft fights about the children and them going out on dates. And him being gone often for deployment.

It started to take a small toll. But they seemed normal on the outside.

But as the sobs filled their home. Thankfully no kids home. Just them in a broken house. A broken relationship. A broken home.

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 26 days

Text

Soap : "Yeah uhh... sure."

Gaz : *Takes photo* *sends pic to Alex and Farah*

Soap : *Sends pic to Alejandro and Rudy*

*Spreads throughout Urzikstan* *Spreads throughout the Los Vaqueros*

*Somehow the Shadows knows it too idk*

*Somehow Laswell and Price knows last*

---

(They're sparring ok 👍)

idk why I drew this but I got a lil' naughty 👁️👄👁️

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw #simon ghost riley #sleepy answers #charlotte jade le jardin #ghost x jade #ghostjade #ghost x oc #call of duty oc #sleepyconfusedpotato art

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ghouljams · 8 months

Text

Fuck me. Dilf!fae!Ghost.

You watch Simon bounce your daughter in his arms, humming to her quietly as he tries to settle her down for her nap. You're busy transferring his t-shirt to the drier after some hefty spitup earlier, and you can't say you're disappointed he hasn't grabbed a new one. He looks good with a baby and some stubble, very parental. Oh my god.

Oh my god he's a fucking dilf. A dilf that you get to f on the regular.

"I'm gonna put 'er down," Simon tells you, his voice low enough not to wake the sleeping infant in his arms. Coincidentally also low enough to make you shiver. You don't know if he notices but you don't care. You have bigger problems, like how did you not notice such a major milestone in your man's life? You have to make him and award, you have to give him a reward.

He kisses your cheek as he brushes past you to the nursery and you can't not fuck him.

When Simon comes out of your daughter's room you are on your knees faster than he can get the door closed. Your fingers are already working to get his fly open as he scrambles to get a hand in your hair. You push his jeans and boxers down in one well practiced motion. He's not hard, but you still sigh at the sight of him. Perfect as always, fuck you love his cock.

You press your lips to his stomach, lick the coarse curly hair that trails from his belly button to his cock, and stroke his length with your hand. Simon, to his credit, tips his head back to tap against the door with a sigh. You pull back to spit in your hand, watching him as you work his cock. He's so fucking pretty. Scars, fucked up nose, the softness around his middle, all of him is just gorgeous.

You duck your head to give his balls some attention, rolling your tongue over them before pressing sucking kisses to the sensitive skin. He groans low in his throat, his fingers tight in your hair, almost insistent as he keeps you held close. His balls feel so heavy on your tongue, you wonder when the last time you fucked was. It hasn't been more than a week you don't think but with the baby everything has been so busy. This is well fucking needed then.

You drag your tongue up from his balls to his cock, working around your hand to slick his length. You lap at the head collecting his precum on your tongue before wrapping your lips around him and sucking. Pretty fucking boy, you think watching Simon watch you, his long lashes fluttering as you stroke his cock with the bob of your head. You move your hand to grip his thich as you slide your lips down to the base, moaning around the thick cock down your throat. He stretches you out so nicely. You wiggle your head a little to feel his girth shift, to feel your nose drag through his public hair, to feel the suppressed gag that makes your eyes roll back. God you are made for him.

Made to purr around his cock until he tugs on your hair to remind you what you're supposed to be doing. You ignore the throbbing between your legs in favor of bobbing your head up and down his length. Only pulling off to breathe and spit on his cock, more slick to help the slide of your lips. You roll his balls in your spit slick hand, squeezing them gently as you suck his cock until you feel them pull tight. Then Simon presses you back down to take his cock whole as he bucks down your throat.

"Fuck baby, tha's a good girl, take it all," he groans, spilling down your throat. You swallow, try to keep your eyes on him when you'd really love to be staring at your brain, and let him use your mouth to finish. A few shallow thrusts as he catches his breath and he's pulling out.

You stay on the ground, stick your tongue out to make sure he sees you've swallowed everything. Simon gives you a pleased hum, fucking two fingers into your mouth. In and out over your tongue before he thinks better of it.

"What's this about?" He asks, his voice thick. Oh, you love his sex voice, he could still go another few rounds.

"Congrats on your new status as a DILF," you tell him without missing a beat.

"Mm," he hums, "you want me to call you mommy now?"

"Maybe," you hadn't considered that, this does make you a MILF, huh.

"Alright," Simon crouches and grabs your arm, hauling you up over his shoulder as he stands, "Let's go make another baby momma."

That is a very promising statement.

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sim0nril3y · 8 months

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I think trying to wind up Simon would be a gradual thing, if was be an easy simmer until boiling over dramatically. I feel like in his work life he can go from controlled to explosive at a moments notice but with you he likes to keep things calm and sweet and you’re the one who does the pushing.

That is until you start whispering soft naughty things in his ear at the pub. He’s eyes would he fixed on the England game on the screen when you lean close, at least he expects you just want a little comfort but as you lean up to begin whispering the filthiest thing a in your ear his cheeks begin to glow, hand gripping his pint glass so much that he thinks it might smash between his fingers.

He would give warnings, at first just glancing in your direction, a tempered look in his eyes causing you to just bite your lip. If you continued he would just give little one word replies. “Enough.” “Behave.” “Oi.”

You could also say the most vile things into his ear. “I’m so wet right now.” “God, been thinking about you all day.” “You look so fucking good I could suck you off right here.” “I’m fucking aching for you, Si.” It was that final thing that finally caused him to snap, standing with a loud screech of his chair. “Up. Now.” He would growl, snatching you up and out of the pub. “Fucking aching for me… love, you’re gonna be aching by the time I’m done with you.”

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #ghost #ghost imagine #ghost smut #1k #2k

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r1pp4r · 9 months

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since yall loved königs so much, heres some simon “ghost” riley nsfw headcannons!!

WARNINGS: MDNI!! this is just completely nsfw :))

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* okay- simon 100% is a thigh lover and i mean ANYTHING to do with your thighs. especially if he fucks your thighs ugh, especially with your back to his chest and your sitting on his lap 🧍‍♂️

* riding. he looooves the way your body is pressed up against him, and the way you move your hips. it’s so intoxicating to him, he’s obsessed. he loves feeling you bite into his neck and shoulder, or your kisses against his jaw. he also loves the way he can grab ur thighs, and thats why he also loves the mating press or your legs on his waist, but like,, pressed to ur chest

* i don’t think simon has a lot of kinks. like not ones that physically harm you. it honestly depends on your preference :) but like idk. for me he’d have some kinks, but nothing with sadism or masochism like at all. but he loooooves to make you feel overwhelmed. i think he’d be into light bondage sometimes but not a lot. he likes to make sure you know you’re safe.

* playing off that, simon is someone BIG on hearing you verbally consent. a nod or a kiss won’t do. he needs to verbally hear you say what you need, or want. that ties into the fact he does absolutely love to hear you beg for him.

* simon is a stone top. at least imo, only bc of his SA. which that can happen, and he feels the need to have some kind of control over the situation and not you entirely. but sometimes he’ll let you praise him, and he’ll beg for you. he lets his guard down and submits to you in a sense.

* SAFEWORD. EVEN THO ITS NOT BDSM HE HAS A SAFEWORD. for him. not just for you-

* simon adore cockwarming. he loves feeling your little cunt on his shaft, where he just has you against him. he lets you grind into him barely, just getting enough friction to have soft, almost inaudible whimpers. especially when he’s doing paperwork.

* simon doesn’t ask you to give him head a lot bc he feels like it’s a task bc of his size. but you always insist and he swears its the best thing because your mouth was made for him. (sometimes he’ll fuck your mouth if he’s feelin silly n goofy :p)

* MARKINGGGG!!! he loves leaving sweet hickeys all over your neck, softly massaging your clit while sucking soft bruises onto your skin <333

* he takes his time a lot. and i mean a lot of time. he doesn’t like quickies (i agree) sessions can last sometimes 3-5 hours because he has so much stamina. like good lord.

* but he also takes his time bc he wants to show you how well knows your body. good lord does he know it. he knows exactly how to make you sing, and he’s hit spots you couldn’t have imagined.

* yes, simon is BIG but he knows how to use it. people who don’t know how to use their dick and its big, it hurts. but simon knows his angles, how deep he can go, etc.

* simon has a huge breeding kink, and i mean it’s horrid. he fills you up every single time. multiple times. he loves the thought of fucking a kid into you, and loving a kid into you. but he knows your both not ready for it yet, but it still drives the both of you crazy, the thought of you plump w his kid

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

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Wild Horses

Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Doctor!Reader

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

A/N: Just a little idea I had after seeing all the TikToks and now I am yanked onto the Ghost train. I used to watch my brother play the game but that was a while ago so bear with me here. (advice or little pointers are much appreciated). I also might make this into a short story or add another part to it, let me know y’all. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings: language, fluff, angst

You were assigned to the team as their personal physician, as requested by the higher ups in order to make sure the soldiers stayed in best health, both physically and mentally. You used to work at your local hospital before you were offered the position.

You knew the dangers and the risks involved, but you were in debt and had student loans that needed to paid. So after much hesitation, you accepted the offer, eventually being convinced by the fat paycheck.

You remembered the day you were first introduced to the team, the way everyone's eyes glued to you like a hawk, their large forms towering over your small frame in the room while you picked at the skin around your nails in nervous habit.

They were curious to say the least, wondering what the hell someone like you was doing in a place like this. And since when did they get the chance to have a full on doctor to treat them, usually they were offered combat medics. You had guts, that's for sure.

You on the other hand were nervous, frightened even, with the thought of living in the same quarters of men wrapped up within the tumults and afflictions of war without a single clue as to their current psychological state. You had seen the worst of men and humanity growing up and you no idea who these soldiers were, what they were capable of, or what their intentions might be. Maybe you should have requested that briefing before you hopped on that plane.

Amongst all of their gazes, you had failed to notice a certain masked individual in the far back of the room, his form shrouded amongst the others as he studied you. His eyes, hidden underneath the grooves of his mask that only seemed to be darkened by where he stood blocked by the only source of light, watched your every movement, from every gesture of your perfectly manicured fingers to every smoothing of the lint-free fabric of your sweater to the way you kept shifting your weight from one foot to another.

One thing was apparent; during the entire length the high ranking officer next to you introduced you and debriefed the men on what was expected and such, you had not uttered a single word, minus the small polite and somewhat strained smile on your face while your eyes told another story. Why the military truly hired you, he may never know.

After being shown your little office and workspace including your room, you were quick to settle in, decorating the area to the best of your abilities with what you had taken with you from back home in order to bring some life into the dull and two-dimensional area. If anyone questioned you on it you would just say that your own sanity is extremely vital in order to ensure quality treatment for your patients.

Once everything in your office was set up, you threw on your white coat and retreated yourself to your office space, sitting at your desk and hastily going over the files that you had completely forgotten about that were given to you regarding the soldiers' previous health before they come pouring in reporting symptoms of god knows what. Best be prepared. Jesus how many bullet wounds can a single individual have.

The soldiers were advised to do their routine physical examinations with you so the first one to come waltzing in through your office door was none other than Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a cheeky grin plastered on his face and much too excited for his own good. That boy's got a crush on you I swear. To be honest I'd be lying if I said the whole team didn't have a schoolboy crush on you.

The men were quick to warm up to you, relieved to have a gentle soul in their midst after all the shit that goes down outside, you were like breath of fresh air. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring a doctor on board, as quiet and reserved as you were. They speculated you were just shy, the reason why you never spoke much, not knowing that you just couldn't hold a conversation if your life depended on it, especially around those you weren't close with. At first they couldn't tell because of your major rbf.

During their routine check-ups or whatever issue they had going on, they would do most of the talking, which was a good thing on your end because it helped you to piece together their temperaments. Thank the lord no one is a psycho murderer. Oh wait.

Soap is the most chattiest of them all. Boy wouldn't shut his mouth when he sat in your office. He's super flirty. But not as flirty as Alejandro.

Ghost on the other hand was reluctant to step into your office for his check-ups. After all he was usually the one to tend to his own wounds or just push through whatever it is that is going on, so he did not know what all the fuss was about in having to get his health checked. So when you call out his last name more than once might I add, clipboard in hand and scanning the area for whoever looks to be headed in your direction, he can't help but heave out a sigh, trudging over to where you stood, your clean white coat a stark contrast to the rest of the environment as you leaned against your door to hold it open.

You muttered out a small hello to which he let out a small huff as you moved aside to let the man enter, watching him walk into your office and seat himself down. That man intimidated you a bit not gonna lie. Not only could you not see his face but he had also not said a single word to you. And not to mention he was absolutely huge as compared to you, even more so in person. You also had heard a lot of stories from the other guys.

"How is your day?" You ask, shutting the door behind you as you briefly read over his previous but extremely short records on your clipboard. There's barely anything on this man. Does he not get ill?

Ghost is quiet at first, watching your eyes scan over the clipboard and curious to know just what is on those papers before your eyes flit up to meet his and catch him off guard, which causes him to answer abruptly. "Fine."

"Okey dokes." You give a quick smile.

Did you just say okey dokes.

Clearing your throat, you go over to where he sat and set the clipboard down on the table next to you beside your laptop. You didn’t have to read his body language to know he did not want to be here at all. So you were going to do him a favor and make the appointment as quick as possible.

"So do you have any allergies to any medications, any allergies I need to know of?" Your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop as you turn to face him, only to be met with an expressionless skull of a mask and the expressionless eyes beneath. Oh boy this session was going to be something. You had heard of how he had never shown his face, so you made sure not to question on it.

"No ma'am."

"Are you currently taking any medication?" You ask the same standard set of questions you have asked every single patient of yours, typing as you go.

"No ma'am."

Any previous illness? Disease?"

"No."

The more you ask him questions, the more he strangely finds it easier to answer. Your voice is surprisingly soft, warm even, like the start of autumn, and he finds it comforting to listen to. Or maybe it's just some technique doctors learn during training in order to relax their patients.

"Do you have any history of smoking, alcohol, or illicit drug use?"

".......sometimes I'll have a smoke, and a glass of bourbon." He's almost waiting for you to hand him a pamphlet about the dangers of smoking.

"How many times would you say?" You ask for details, your eyes still glued to the screen of your laptop as you await his answer.

Ghost is a bit confused by the amount of questions you ask, but he also has not been to the doctor's so how would he know. "Um I don't know."

"A rough estimate is fine."

"Not much, maybe 2-3 times a week or so when I'm not on duty."

"How many times a week do you exercise?" You feel silly for asking this question to a man like him but it's all part of the procedure and you almost pray he doesn't hate you for it.

"Every day." So no pamphlet?

Jesus this man has more discipline than you. You can barely get up in the morning.

"Okayyy." You mutter out, more to yourself as you enter in his responses.

Ghost finds himself watching you from his seat on the chair, his eyes tracing over and studying your features as you type away on your laptop. He thinks you're really pretty but either doesn't want to admit it or just flat out does not know that he finds you attractive.

There are certain details about you that he can't help but find himself intrigued by, like the small black outline flower tattoo on your hand that was located near the area of your thumb, running along the curve to meet the knuckle of your forefinger. He's curious as to the meaning behind it, if there was one. He wanted to ask what type of flower it was, perhaps it was your favorite? It would give him an idea as to what flowers to get you.

"Have you ever been hospitalized, had any surgical procedures done or been treated for any chronic conditions?"

"No." Ghost shakes his head before remembering his wounds from combat, wondering if that is something you should know. "Just the bullet and knife wounds from combat. Nothing too serious."

Jesus fucking christ. You were willing to bet he treated those wounds himself.

Ghost is not a fan of hospitals. Pretty sure this dude just looks up YouTube tutorials on how to fix himself instead of just going to the doctor like a normal human being.

"When was the last time you visited your general practitioner.......or just any doctor in general?" You ask the last question, willing to bet it never.

There was silence on his end as you looked towards him waiting for an answer, the clicking of your keyboard coming to a stop and only loudening the silence. Ghost could not remember the last time he had been to a hospital or even scheduled a visit. And as you looked at him, your eyes almost staring into his soul, still waiting for a response, he could not help but feel a tad bit embarrassed, as if you were judging him for not being a responsible adult. Also it didn't help that you were goddamn pretty.

"I'm gonna take that as a very long time, the last time being the prehistoric ages, correct?" There's the slightest hint of a tease in your voice.

"Uh.......yes ma'am." Ghost squints his eyes at you as you go back to typing on your keyboard. Did you just.............did you just call him…..He does not know how to feel about that. Did you just try to crack a joke? He always thought doctors were the serious type.

"Okay then." You straighten up, grabbing your sphygmomanometer off the table and turning yourself to face him. "Is it okay if I check your blood pressure?"

The man is stunned. No one has ever asked his permission for anything before. He's so used to either taking orders or giving orders that he doesn't know how to respond and stares at you for a moment, forcing his brain to process what to do next before eventually giving a nod.

"Is it okay if you take your jacket off so I can get a clearer reading?"

He nods again, still in shock as he takes off his jacket, leaving him in his black long sleeve thermal. He's almost thankful he wasn't in his full tactical gear, having to imagine you standing there waiting for him as he removes every single piece of equipment off his torso.

"Thank you." You give him a short smile, placing your hand under his tricep and gently lifting his arm in order to wrap the inflatable cuff around his bicep. You almost blush at the mere size of this man's arms. "Now you're just going to feel a slight pressure okay."

Ghost can't help but feel a slight warmth spread to his cheeks at the way you handle him with such care, as if he were the small delicate thing and not you. Now he knows why the others were so giddy after leaving your office.

As you place your stethoscope on his forearm near his elbow to listen to his blood pumping through the artery, your other hand pumping air into the cuff using the inflation bulb with your eyes glued to the numbers on the gauge, he can't help but to notice the old Donald Duck watch that sat at your wrist, the ones with the moving arms and the vintage style black leather straps.

And as he further investigated your attire, he noticed a few other details, like the colorful glittery badge reel in the shape of a pill container with the words "licensed drug dealer" printed on it that was attached to your scrub top, the glitter sticker with the words "I'm nicer than my face looks" as well a few Disney character stickers and the little frog looking keychain that hung off of your badge. He was wondering what the hell that thing was. Your accessories were awfully colorful for a general doctor. Something was telling him you either used to work with families or children. Whatever the hell managed to bring you to such a drastic change.

You brought him out of his thoughts as you shifted from your position, unwrapping the inflatable cuff from around his bicep and placing it back on the table before typing the results into your laptop. "Okay," You adjust the ear pieces of your stethoscope back into your ears as you turn back to him, "I'm going to perform some auscultations, which is just listening to the sounds of your heart and your lungs so if you could just sit up straight and relax that would be wonderful."

Simon straightens up his posture as you place your free hand on his shoulder, at this point you're not sure if you're steadying him or yourself, your fingertips just barely grazing across the bottom of his neck. He doesn't know why but, it's as if your fingers are directly touching the skin underneath, despite the fabric of his mask that separated your fingers from his skin. Your hands feels hot, like really hot and he has no clue why.

The soldier only feels his cheeks warm up even more so now as you inch closer to carefully place the diaphragm of your stethoscope on his chest, your head tilted and your eyes lowered to the floor as you listen for his heart beat. He gets a whiff of your perfume and he finds himself drawn to it. You smell like something along the lines of jasmine petals, geranium, myrrh, frankincense, and a hint of sandalwood. Now he definitely knows why the others are fawning over you. Poor Simon is praying you don't hear how his heart is nearly racing. He does not know why he is feeling this way and it slightly bothers him in the way that he has no clue what it is he is feeling.

He catches how your brows slightly furrow at the center and his heart skips a beat. Now he's fucking embarrassed and this man rarely ever is embarrassed. Maybe he's even starting to panic. Can you tell? Do you know? You open your mouth to say something but he quickly interrupts he just got back from a run so you dismiss it with a shrug, placing the diaphragm on his back now and asking him to give you a couple of deep breaths.

"Okay. Take a deep breathe in, breathe it out. Breathe in, and out."

He complies with your instructions, breathing in slow and deep breaths as you go from one side of his back to another.

"Good job." You remove the earpieces and let your stethoscope hang around your neck as you go back to your table, recording in more info. Hang on did you just, did you just tell a grown 6'4" man good job.

Even Simon is confused. Like bitch.

"Okay, so we're all done with that." You inform him, before going over to one of the drawers and sliding it open. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to have some blood work done on you, just to make sure there are no underlying issues that need to be taken care of."

Simon is silent so you turn to him. "Is that okay, Ghost, is that what the others call you? Would you like me to call you Ghost?"

Goddamn you're too polite. "That's fine by me ma'am."

"Perfect. Now is it okay if I take your blood sample?"

Ghost nods, so you grab the tools necessary and place them on the table next to you.

"Could you please roll your sleeve up and make a fist for me? Thank you." You ask him once you sanitize your hands and throw on a pair of fresh gloves. You grab the tourniquet and catch sight of the tattoos that cover his forearm as you tie the tourniquet around his arm above the elbow. You're curious to know the story behind them but you have a feeling he's not one for storytelling or just talking in general so you remain silent. You tear open the small packet of the alcohol wipe and apply it to the area. The chemical is cool against his skin as you sanitize the area before letting it air dry. Simon can't help but notice how small your hands are.

Simon watches you intently as you work, the way you are so focused and so precise with each step, and yet so gentle. It's almost cute.

"You're just going to feel a little pinch." You tell him in a soft tone, a tone you were used to using on all your little patients before inserting the needle into his vein. As if the man hasn't been shot or stabbed and god knows what multiple times before.

At this point Simon doesn't even notice the needle in his arm, he's too focused on the details of your face. He can sense that you're nervous around him and he feels bad. Even though he's just met you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel scared or unsafe around him. And even though this whole situation is awkward for him since he never was a fan of visiting the hospital, you're their physician, and at the end of the day you're there to patch them up. So he comments on your dark circles, thinking you haven't gotten any rest since you arrived here. "You look tired."

"............that's just my face." You give him that distinct smile, the same smile you have given anyone who ever commented on them as you connect the vacutainers to the needle to draw his blood, your eyes glued to the dark red liquid seeping through the thin clear tube before pouring into the sample tube.

If you thought it was quiet before, well you are most definitely wrong because the silence is absolutely deafening now.

Simon nearly punches himself for his stupidity. Why in the bloody hell did he say that of all things. He wanted to tell you he liked your dark circles but decided to bite his tongue instead. Now he's definitely not going to say another word. Better yet, once he leaves your office, he's not coming back. He's just going to avoid you at all costs in order to save both you and himself the embarrassment. He's willing to bet the others handled this way better than him.

"But I suppose I am a bit jet-lagged though. Haven't really gotten any rest since I got on that plane." You add. "I appreciate your concern."

You most definitely said that to make him feel better about himself, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at the wall and avoids your face. There was no other reason.

Once your done drawing his blood you ask him to hold the piece of cotton pad down onto where the needle was punctured as you open up the drawer where the gauze is located. "Do you have a favorite color?"

Did you just ask him his favorite color? Simon stares at you blankly. Were all doctors this odd?

"I'm guessing you like black?" You pull out the roll of black gauze, displaying it in front of you with the most deadpanned expression possible.

You've got jokes. Simon thinks to himself. If he had looked a little closer he would have noticed the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

"You should see the colors the others picked." You tease as you wrap the gauze around his arm at the elbow, making sure it isn't too tight but also not loose enough to the point where the cotton pad underneath slips out.

Simon narrows his eyes at you. Bloody fucking hell. The others picked a color?

You're pretty sure Gaz requested you get an Elmo print one he saw online once somewhere. Soap asked if there a print of the Scotland flag available. The look of hurt on his face when you said there wasn't so you improvised and gave him both the blue and white gauze. You gave him a Dum-Dum lollipop to make him feel better. The others may have also gotten a lollipop as they left your office, especially after seeing the special treatment that Soap received. Were they jealous? Maybe.

Once you tell the man he is all good to go and that you will call him once you're done getting the results from his blood sample, he nearly jumps out of the chair and bolts out of your office. He prays some unknown miracle happens and that his blood sample magically disappears so that he doesn't have to face you, firmly believing he insulted you and that you thought he called you ugly when that is not what he intended. I am telling you this man does not know how to compliment. They should make a guidebook for dummies specialized just for him.

You watch him disappear out your door with a quirked brow. Well that was fucking weird.

When Simon leaves the area he finds Soap lounging about on a chair with a sucker in his mouth.

"The hell is that?" Simon squints at the sergeant.

"Mph mph." Soap's voice comes out muffled.

"What?"

Soap pauses and turns to see Ghost looming over him. "It's a Dum-Dum."

"A fuckin what?"

"Y/n said they're called Dum-Dums." Soap pulls it out of his mouth, twisting the stick of the lollipop around in his fingers as if he were inspecting it. "This one's a cotton candy flavor."

"She gave you a fuckin lollie?"

"It's pure dead brilliant I tell ya. Why, did she not give ya one?"

More silence. Simon would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a tad bit butthurt.

"Maybe you scared her." Soap jokes.

Simon lets out a grumbled incoherent huff and walks away.

Soap just shrugs and pops the lollipop back in his mouth.

Simon has a feeling he is going to go to bed thinking about his actions.

Part 2

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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Ghost masterlist

(Ghost art by Coruja3571/Twitter)

I Never Missed You {Bodyguard AU. Romance, smut, light angst, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader | He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to... Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Anhedonia {Smut, hurt/comfort, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader | You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle. You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets. He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

Part 1 (5.5 k) | Part 2 (4.4 k)

Ghost stories {Smut, angst, Ghost POV, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FMedic!Reader | It's only work that awaits him. From dawn till dusk, with hungry arms and a cold, dead cunt.

Refugee (6.5 k) | Lazarus (5.7 k) | Immortal (5.5 k)

Man-sized {Romance, flangst, smut, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC | Not only did he contact her, he sent her a picture of himself looking like… like war. The tired eyes stared at her from inside what looked like the top of a human skull attached to a black balaclava. He wasn't a foot soldier, or a mercenary, he wasn't even working for the UK version of a SWAT team. He was something else.

Love is a Heavy Weapon (sequel to Man-sized on Ao3)

On Sarah & Simon's wedding How did the shibari class go? Will they ever have kids? Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Drabbles & headcanons [18+]

Ghost x Virgin!Reader (2.9 k) This is not a Drill (2.2 k, size difference) Wildflowers Grow in Ruins (5 k, Reader tries to break up with Ghost) Couldn't Love You More (3.7 k, breeding kink)

Random headcanons Getting into a relationship with Ghost What would it take to win Ghost's heart?

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc

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sprout-fics · 7 months

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Whumptober Day One: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OFC 'Fix')

(Whumptober Masterlist TBA)

Rating: Gen Wordcount: 1.6k Tags: Blood/Injury, Whump, Head Injuries, Fainting, Worried Simon, Banter Warnings: Vomit mention

Asshole got the drop on you.

You were checking your corners this time, talking calmly into your radio as you slowly swept the perimeter of the warehouse you and Ghost had been sent to investigate. There had been fair resistance, one that had been thinned by your sniper fire as Ghost moved interior. It had only been once he’d sounded the all clear that you clambered down from your perch on the hill and had moved to rendezvous with your LT.

A noise catches your attention, a rolling bottle that clattered against the concrete. You pivot sharply, weapon raised and moving silently towards the source of the sound. Too late do you realize it’s a distraction, and before you can spin on your heel to face the presence that makes the hairs on your neck rise, the world cracks with color and you’re sent spinning to the ground.

It takes a moment for you to orient yourself, and the first thing you recognize is the splitting pain just above your right ear, so fierce it nearly blinds you. Yet the enemy behind you doesn’t seem to care, towering over you and reaching for your form with darkly clad hands. Body operating on pure instinct, you reach for the knife on your vest, slash across his calf so he stumbles. It doesn’t take much after that, as you swiftly stand and fire once from your side arm, the man slumping to the ground limply.

“Fix, how copy?” Ghost suddenly barks into your radio, having heard the commotion, and the noise screeches in your ears. Too loud, too loud. It hurts, the place where the AQ agent hit you with the butt of his rifle, likely out of ammo. The pain unfurls across your skull, has you scrunching your eyes shut with a groan of blooming pain that feels bitter on your tongue.

“Fix.” Ghost tries again, and you shudder an exhale as you try to breathe through the pain, eyes closed as you blindly fumble for your radio.

“Copy. I’m injured. Moving to your position.”

There’s a pause, and you try vainly to right yourself, checking your gear and toeing the edge of the body at your feet so you can navigate around it with your eyes closed as much as possible.

“Negative. Stay where you are. I’m coming to you.”

You wince at that, not out of pain, but at the griping irritation in Ghost’s voice at your injury. You’ll probably hear about it later, but for now you focus on trying to find somewhere to sit down so Ghost can find you. The world wobbles dangerously around you, and the first turn of your head summons a low, stifled groan at the pulsing gunshot of pain that flares behind your eyelids.

“All stations- I’ve got one wounded. Standby.”

Way to advertise, Ghost. You think with a little frown, glad that now every operator on this mission knows you have a fucking headache. You press a hand to the center of the pain and instantly draw the touch away with a hiss, feeling the skin react to your fingers. They feel wet. It’s agonizing, the pain, it feels like someone has decided to try and fracture you open to look inside, forgetting how to close you back up. It feels like the only thing you can think of, your world consumed by a tilting dizziness and growing nausea that sits heavy and sour in your stomach.

It doesn’t take long for Ghost to find you, and when he does there’s little fanfare as he immediately moves to assess you.

“Eyes up.” He demands, and despite the curtness it’s a touch gentle, encouraging as a gloved hand tilts your chin up and then to the side so he can examine the growing welt on the side of your skull.

“How’s your head?” He asks blandly, trying to part the hair from your temple to see the injury.

“No complaints yet, LT. At least not from you.” You try, voice wobbling a little but trying to see if you can get a reaction from him.

Ghost takes a moment to catch what you’ve said, pauses, sighs. You snicker.

He elects to ignore you, which is a little disappointing, and admittedly a little worrying too. If he’s not up for jokes, whatever injury he’s looking at must be serious. You wonder if it’s worse than you think it is, which is to say it might be pretty fucking bad.

Headache, light sensitivity, nausea, bleeding…You grimace, years of medic training efficiently narrowing down the probable causes to a short and frankly worrying list of possible causes. The thought is short circuited to nothing as Ghost turns you slightly, making the world shift violently under you and something terrible roll in your stomach at the horrific wash of pain it summons.

“Fix. Look at me.” Ghost tells you, and you force your eyes open to see the black void of his war paint mere inches from your own. He blinks underneath his mask at whatever he finds in your eyes scrunched with pain, brow scrunching in sudden concentration.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Ghost asks you abruptly, and despite the steadiness of his voice his hand is gripping your shoulder with a sudden severity that does little to anchor you from the spinning room.

You try to focus on his skeletal fingers with little success.

“...Two? Three?” You cut yourself off with a groan, pressing a hand to your head to try and dull the pain. It’s no use. It blooms blindingly behind your eyelids, carving deep into your skull with unrelenting mercy. You feel wetness trickle over the heel of your palm, warm and red.

“Ghost…” You try, unsure of what you're pleading for. Mercy? Help? A bullet between the eyes to make it stop?

"Fix." Ghost tries again, and his shadow falls over you, dwarfing you with his size. His voice has taken on an urgent growl that misfires in the back of your thoughts because it sounds like fear.

"How many fingers?"

You try to focus on them, the digits wavering in front of your face. You squint your eyes, but it summons a sudden, violent wave of nausea that turns your stomach upwards.

"I-I think I'm going to be sick." You manage, and double over to the side, just in time for the bile in your stomach to avoid hitting Ghost's boots.

You hear him curse, bark over the comms for med-evac, and when you try to straighten you overcorrect, fall straight off the crate and into his arms.

"Fix!"

“S-shit. Sorry.” You fumble, but do nothing to try and raise yourself up, too consumed by the red pulsing pain behind your eyelids. “Fuck. Fuck it hurts.”

You don’t like to complain. As the medic your whining only serves as a poor example. Now, however, you grant yourself the reprieve of your quickly slurring words trailing into a broken string of curses you use to distract yourself.

“Hush.” Ghost tells you, and there’s a flash of recognition as you try and place the waver in his voice. Anger? Fear? You can’t tell. His arm cradles you against his chest, a knee braced at your back to keep you sitting upright. “Breathe through it, stay with me.”

Stay with you? You think dumbly. You’re right here, you can’t move. Where the hell are you supposed to go?

“Simon-” You try, confused, spinning, a hand grasping at the strap of his vest. It takes effort to raise your hand, and you realize with a flash of alarm that your body isn’t nearly as responsive as you think it is. “W-wait, Simon. It’s-”

You can’t find the words, but Ghost seems to understand, because he suddenly goes rigid and begins yelling into his radio with a sudden volume that makes you whimper. Whatever you try to say next is swallowed by his arms suddenly closing around you, lifting you up as the world moves around you.

“Fix. Pet, I need you to stay awake for me.” He tells you, voice taking on a new tenderness that betrays his sincere worry. You try and nod, but even that feels like too much, so you try and stay still, try to breathe like he’s told you, even when bile boils in your stomach at the dizzying turn of the earth under you both.

“S-sick-” You try, trying to smack at his vest to warn him, but Ghost doesn’t stop moving. You end up trying to twist away with little success, a little dribble of sickness trickling down the front of your vest.

“You’re alrigh’.” He tells you through gritted teeth, and somehow you don’t believe him. “Stay awake, Fix. Just a little longer.”

How much longer? You think desperately, stomach rolling with the pain splitting your skull. The movement doesn’t help, merely exacerbates your violent agony that forces you into limp stillness to just try and breathe through it.

“Si-imon…” You whimper again in a bid for mercy.

When Simon responds with your name, you know it’s bad.

He shakes you a little as you go pliant in his arms, growling a reminder to stay awake that you can’t seem to heed. You try to apologize, but the words feel useless on your tongue. Darkness beckons with a sweet promise of painless unconsciousness you desperately want to cave to.

“Don’t you fucking sleep on me.” Simon growls at you, suddenly desperate, and you try to lift a hand to his face, to reassure him it’s only a little nap. All you succeed in is loosening your grip from his vest. Your hand falls limply against you.

“Don’t hate me for this, Si.” You think weakly as your head falls forward into your chest, and you succumb to nothingness.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x ofc #Ghost x oc #whumptober 2023 #simon ghost riley

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bressynonym · 5 hours

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I know you like it sweet So you can have your cake

#made this for my birthday earlier this month :3 #aguas frescas au #this au is always on my mind LMAO #gomz knows how insane i am over this #ghostgreeds #[oc] avarice #cod oc #call of duty oc #cod oc art #my oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #there will be more of them eventually!!#bressymbols

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cannedmuffins · 1 year

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I needed a older more exhausted Daddy Simon so I added 2 more children to Ghost and Hawk’s family (I also used references of Samuel Roukin for his look here 👀).

Little treat under the cut to match the last Daddy Simon post

He’ll always have that dog in him

#my art #cannedmuffins #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #mw2 #modern warefare 2 #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #simon riley x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #domestic!ghost #ghost x Hawk #cod oc #call of duty oc

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imshymorph · 2 months

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So, new story! Death!Ghost x Life!reader. It’s a longer one, there’s much more to their story if everyone likes it an wants to see more. Update: Here's Part 2 and Part 3

You’re sitting by the edge of the water, fingers lightly dipping in the creek and moving around. The ripples that form from your movement making tadpoles, small fish and spurts of water plants come to be.

It felt natural, with the longer hours of sunlight and the rising of temperature, to start using your abilities once again. To take your side of the mantle once Death had taken the grunt of the work in the colder months. Spring was only nearing closer, and that meant you’d have to start adding spirits back to the Earth, it was your time to keep balance.

- - - - -

You looked up from the stream, from the trail of tiny creatures that gladly followed the movement of their creator’s hand, when you felt the breeze cool a little. It could only mean one thing.

Your lips pull up into a soft smile, your lively eyes crinkling lightly at the edges as you see him stand on the other side of the creek. His own eyes shift under the skull mask, and you know he’s smiling back even if his eyes are covered by the shadow of the bone. It doesn’t surprise you that within barely a few seconds he’s instead sitting beside you, the wavy reflection of the water in front of you confirming his presence.

It always felt like that, peaceful and comfortable in each other's presence. You had gotten used to Death long ago, or Ghost, a name that had come from a joke once made aeons ago. You couldn’t help yourself, lightly teasing him when you had seen how pale his skin really was the one time he had taken a glove off. And somehow, it just stuck.

The both of you stay in silence for a bit, admiring the landscape around you, how slowly your power took over the terrain to give him some rest. You worked in harmony, the switching in seasons never feeling like a competition or betrayal, but like an acknowledgment of the other’s importance and significance.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” He’s the first one to talk, giving you a short look before his attention was pulled to the birds that filled the sky. Most of them nesting, feeling in some way that your power would welcome them soon before giving them tiny ones to look after.

“Good, busy with the new blooms that come with spring.” you reply with a small smile, your hands running through the grass below, making new blades appear, greener and more luscious. “You must’ve been busy.” You tack on, your eyes following the trail of growing plants until your eyes find him.

“Hmm, you have some work ahead of you.” he concedes, tilting his head back, feeling what sunrays managed to filter through the holes in his mask. He let out a soft sigh before giving a light nod, “Been taking care of my duties, but it’s been good.”

“You’ll be able to rest a bit more. Now that the warm months are coming in.” You say, that smile still on your face. It definitely was what fascinated him most about you. He knew the amount of power you beheld, all the things you could make appear out of thin air. Yet there was something about that smile, that soft and kind smile that you always seemed to gift him with.

Or at least that’s how he wanted to see it, like your sweet smile was specially directed at him, for him. If there was one thing that he pictured on his mind whenever he thought about you, it was the upturn of your lips. Not even your mightier creations could ever compare to the one of your smile.

“I suppose I did, yes.” He says with a light nod, his tone low and gravely but really calm as well, like deep calm water. His head then turned, your view of his mask turning from the profile to a full fronted one. His cold and cloudy almost-grey eyes finding yours. “Are you enjoying your creations?”

The corner of your eyes crinkled a bit more as they landed on his, your smile brightening, reminding him of the golden hues the sun gets when it starts to set behind the horizon. Your hand moves, fingers trailing through the dirt beneath you. Tips passing just enough power to the small buds that were starting to grow to make them fully bloom. “Always do.” Your tone sounding sweet and golden like honey.

A smile took over his lips and he mentally thanked the skull covering them, although the amused glint your eyes got told him that you had definitely noticed. “I’m glad to hear it.” He says, tone as cordial and gravely as ever, hiding the small embarrassment of the knowing tilt your smile gets.

The both of you seeped into comfortable silence once again, you looking at the vast forest around you, the light hints of it filling with your creations again after a cold winter. Meanwhile he busied himself as he looked over his scythe, his gloved finger lightly trailing the sharp edge.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” He murmurs, almost making you wonder if he had actually spoken as his eyes stay trained on his tool.

“You know I never do.” You reassure, your eyes only staying on him for a moment before going back to the light ripples on the water source in front of you.

“I was wondering…” he starts before cutting himself off. You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him as he leaves the scythe back on the floor beside him. Nor as he tilts his head back to look up at the sky once more. And he doesn’t think he could ever find the words to express how thankful he is about it.

He clears his throat, daring to give it another chance. His head tilts a bit to the side, only enough to see you from the corner of his eye. “I was just wondering, we’ve worked together for so long…” he fully turns his head now, his eyes meeting yours. “And yet… you’ve never asked to see me? See what’s under my mask.”

For someone who was the personification of Death, Ghost couldn’t understand how his heart could beat so fast. How it felt like it could leap out of his chest at any moment, how fast his blood pumped through him.

And it feels like it instantly stops when he sees you lightly shaking your head, “It’s not my place to ask, I'm sure it’s there for a reason.” your soft voice explains. And he lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding, his heartbeat slowing a bit but the tension still in his body as he gives a light nod back.

The both of you go back to the silence, but this time your eyes stay on each other's. His hand slowly reaches up, his fingers feeling the edge of the worn out bone. His voice is barely perceptible when he talks next, “What if I wanted to show you?”

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x oc #x oc #cod x you #ghost x you #death!ghost #oc: Life #death x reader #death x life

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 3 months

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I got bored 😭

Inspired by this meme!

#might've drawn his tiddies a lil too big #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #charlotte jade le jardin #ghost #simon riley #ghost x oc #ghostjade #ghost x jade #modern warfare #call of duty meme #cod meme #sleepyconfusedpotato art

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ghouljams · 1 month

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Thinking about professor!Ghost and his stupid motorcycle, abs how he definitely isn't stalking the hot Anthropology professor but he does notice she hasn't left the parking lot at her usual time so he goes to check what's up with that. And when he finds out someone let the air out of not one but two of her tires, thus rendering her one spare useless, he offers her a ride home. Something he never does, because he doesn't like carting people around he likes going fast and not worrying about cargo, but he settles next to Love's car and offers her a ride home. He does tell her to stay put while he runs to his office for his extra helmet and when she finally gets it in her hands she tells him,

"Its pink," with a sort of soft smile that melts his heart, he just grunts and responds,

"I thought you liked pink."

Which is immediately met with laughter like bells and a smile that feels a lot more genuine as she pulls the full face helmet over her head. She steps close to the bike and Ghost stops her to check that the helmet is on right, his gloved fingers skirting under her chin to make sure the strap is on tight. He offers her a hand, holding the bike steady as she climbs on behind him, and he's maybe a little too eager when her arms wrap around his middle and squeeze.

Ghost's never liked feeling a helmet against his shoulder, but somehow when it's her it's tolerable. Somehow he doesn't want to go as fast, meandering down the streets until she taps his thigh and Ghost feels all his blood rush south. He stops in front of her flat and helps her climb off, staring a little too much at the way she swings her leg over his bike until she's fiddling with the helmet and again he reaches out to help.

She shakes her hair out with a smile as soon as it's off and offers the helmet back. Ghost doesn't have a good reason to tell her he got it for her, so he takes it back and watches her make her way inside. He can still feel the squeeze of her arms around him. Maybe he should make a move.

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #cod x oc #x oc #ghost x oc #oc: love #professor au #professor!ghost #some well meaning discord user let the air out of loves tires #becahse they all know ghost is insane #engineering meet cutes for their favorite professor couple #ghost youve already made half a move just ask her out #love the whole ride: i cant no fuck this man oh my god

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sim0nril3y · 16 days

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Deployment

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.

One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?

“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”

There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.

“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”

Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.

Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.

The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning. “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.

Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”

“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.

A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”

The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.

He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It��ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”

It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.

Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…

A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…

Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.

It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”

For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”

John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”

“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”

Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024

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