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#evac warning
What’s up gamers im fuckjng evacuating a wild fire rn. Now is the perfect time for asks and short writing requests
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bones-n-bookles · 6 months
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Sometimes;;;;;;;;;; being impulsive pays off
Other times it makes everything a huge mess
Maybe someday I'll learn the difference in the moment lol
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bandomgay · 7 months
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I'm so glad I didn't have classes today cause Poseidon decided he wanted to take a trip to NYC today 😭😭😭
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alittleworldlywise · 8 months
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The joy of growing up and moving from an extreme weather risk zone to a risk zone for a completely different type of extreme weather.
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yukkikatsuki · 1 year
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Community emergencies really being out the best and worst in people, on one hand we have people opening up stores outside of normal operation hours giving free water to people in campers and getting extra deliveries of everything from fuel to food and baby products, we also have people volunteering equipment and cooking up storms of food to give to people on the ground fighting the fire. On the other hand we have assholes trying to loot and people claiming if enough people show up at the barricades keeping people out of the evacuation zone then they can't stop them all and demanding to be let back into town despite the fact the fire is still out of control and the weather forecast is calling for more hot dry windy conditions again which could make any of the ground the gained with the semi constant drizzle the last few days completely disappear. I hope we get this fire under control soon but I also don't want them to rush re-entry to the evacuation zones and end up with their focus split if a hot spot flares back up near where people are.
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katy-l-wood · 2 years
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The evacuation prep poster is done! This poster is designed primarily with wildfires in mind, but the tips can apply to preparing for any much any disaster.
If you share this image outside of tumblr, please link back to my website: www.Katy-L-Wood.com
[[Image ID: A poster including a layered graphic showing what items to have ready to prepare for evacuating your home based on how much warning you have that you need to evacuate. The inner, red, level is labeled "No Warning." The next, orange, level is labeled "Less Than an Hour." The next, yellow, level is labeled "More Than an Hour." The final, green, level is labeled "General Preparedness." The items associated with each level and the text are included below. /end ID.]]
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Evacuation Prep:
As the world changes, it is important to be prepared to safely and efficiently evacuate your home, potentially with little or no warning. Preparing ahead of time can help to reduce stress and anxiety, and help you evacuate safely if the time comes.
Red Level (No Warning): People | Pets | Keys. Human life matters most. If you can't rescue your pets, let them out to give them their best chance. If evacuating by car, don't forget your keys.
Orange Level (Less Than an Hour): Crucial Meds | Important Papers | Money | Paper Map | Pet Vaccination Records. Crucial meds and medical equipment. Papers including passports, birth certificates, medical records, etc.. Multiple forms of payment. Paper map with marked evac routes in case of signal loss. Phone. Most evac centers require vaccine records for pets to be allowed in.
Yellow Level (More Than an Hour): Photos | Hard Drives | Computers | Chargers | Irreplaceable Items | OTC Meds | Pet Supplies | Pet Food | Clothes | Weather Gear. Family photos. Hard drives and computers. Make digital backups ahead of time. Charging cords. Irreplaceable items such as collectibles and mementos. Over the counter medical supplies such as Aspirin and tampons. Pet supplies such as bowls, crates, toys, and litter. Pet food and treats. Clothes. If you are running out of time grab your laundry basket. Weather gear if needed.
Green Level (General Preparedness): Food | Water | Radio | N95 Masks | Multitool | Power Pack | Gas | Stove + Fuel | Flashlight | Toiletries | Emergency Contact Info | Bedding | First Aid | Can Opener. Easy prep, shelf-stable food. Water. Battery powered/rechargeable NOAA weather radio. N95 masks for smoke. A multitool. Rechargeable power pack for phones. Keep your car at least partially fueled at all times. Portable stove and fuel for cooking food without power. Flashlight and spare batteries. Toiletries including hair products, toothbrush and paste, etc.. Emergency contact info for friends and loved ones. Spare pillows and blankets. Dedicated first aid kit. Can opener.
Save yourself time and stress by preparing an evacuation bag ahead of time and keep it in an easy to access place. At the end of every season rotate out the perishable items within such as food, water, and medications. The more you can keep in the bag, the more time you'll have to grab everything else. Remember, it is okay if you can't do everything. Some preparation is better than no preparation.
If you are in the U.S.A. and experiencing disaster related anxiety call the Disaster Distress Hotline at 1-800-985-5990 for support and resources.
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If you share this image outside of tumblr, please link back to my website: www.Katy-L-Wood.comf
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
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warning: this is jus' a short drabble, Simon being soft, but only for you
RAHHHHHH m' a sucker for those tropes where a character with a title uses their real name for their lover who's dying. Like imagine that with Simon.
You're shaking. There's blood on your hand from where you touched your abdomen. But this isn't right, you thought. You were fine just a moment ago. You blinked, and now you're in your lieutenants arms. He's barking orders at you to stay awake. Keep your eyes on him, and steady your breath.
Everything from your waist down hurts and you scream when Simon applies pressure to your wound. You've had close calls before, but never once had you actually been shot. This is your first time, and it's starting to feel like the last.
You don't even know when you've started crying, but you're scared. You didn't want to die. You were too young. You wanted to get to see more of the world that isn't just blood on the battlefield. You didn't want to die.
But that wasn't your choice to make.
Maybe it was your time. Maybe you knew. Because you're looking up at Simon with all the love you've yet to show him and for a second it makes him stop screaming for evac. His eyes are on you and he hated that almost peaceful look in your eyes. He's seen it alot on former colleagues. Acceptance.
"....Lieutenant..?.."
No
"..It's Simon, love. It's your Simon...."
a/n: Sorry that this is trashy 😕 Classes are fucking me up and this might be the only thing I can post for today. But I do have quite a lot of ideas in my drafts which I might finish on the weekends. I'll make it up to you guys I swear 🥲. I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, my darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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darklordofthesimp · 1 year
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Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)
Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.
Requested by @chippyroh :
#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.
#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind
A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.
Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort
Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.
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It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?
You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”
You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”
You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.
You’d done everything right.
So, why was he so fucking angry?
“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”
“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”
His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.
“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”
Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.  
“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly.  For once, you wished you had never made it home.
______
You were angry at yourself for crying.
It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.
Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.
Who the fuck did he think he was?
You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.
“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.
Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”
Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.
“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”
You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.
Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.
You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.
Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.
You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.
You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.
Bang, bang, bang.
You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.
Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.
You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.
“Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.
The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.
“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.
“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”
Fuck.
You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.
“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”
You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”
“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”
“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”
You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.
“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”
“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.
“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”
“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”
 You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”
“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”
“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“
Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.
You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.
He wasn’t going to hit you.
Instead, Ghost kissed you.
You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.
When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.
There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.
“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”
You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.
But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.
But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.
“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.
When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.
“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”
Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.
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5 times you took care of the 141st, and one time they took care of you
Happy (late) holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this piece!
Platonic!141st x medic!reader
Warning: Canon typical violence, minor angst, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, very minor gore, hospital type settings, minor illness, fainting, brief mentions of vomiting, cursing.
1st
“Need a medic stat!”
You rushed through the battle ground, attempting to make your way to the other side of it. This was made extremely difficult by the large chunks of rubble scattered about, oh and the fact they are at least a dozen people shooting at you.
“Stitch!!”
“Soap I’m on my way, apply pressure I’ll be there soon!” You panted, vaulting over some rubble and sliding to cover to prevent getting shot yourself.
The mission had gone to shit extremely quickly. You were just supposed to get the information and get out, stick together and move quickly. You all were not anticipating bombs being dropped on your heads from enemy aircrafts.
They had scattered you all quickly, as each of you attempted to avoid being hit. It seemed as that was their plan because as soon as you all were split up enemy soldiers surrounded you out of nowhere.
Price has called for an evac, but the lack of non blown up landmarks made it difficult to regroup.
You fired off a few shots into the smoke, praying they found their mark, and took off once more.
Going over and under rubble, left and right, in and out, it felt like you were never going to reach Soap.
Just as you were about to start violently cursing the gods for the situation you were in you saw Soap a few hundred yards off from you. To your surprise he looked to be in alright shape, the lump next to him however you couldn’t say the same for.
“Soap I have visual on you, what’s the situation?”
“The situation is Gaz is bloody shot!!”
Cursing under your breath you moved from your cover once more. Keeping low to the ground, more crawling than running at times, you finally made your way to Soap and Gaz.
Sliding in next to them you got to work. Looking Gaz over, you immediately started treating the biggest and most obvious problem, the bullet wound in his stomach.
Soap had tried his best to stop the bleeding, that much was clear from the soaked gauze packed into the wound, but with the need to return fire he couldn’t keep up with it.
You applied heavy pressure on it, praying that’s enough to keep him alive until he can get to a hospital.
“Price where the hell is that damn evac?!”
“3 minutes out, landing in what used to be the hospital parking lot. I’ve got Ghost with me what’s your status?”
“Me and Soap are alright, Gaz has been shot and is loosing blood fast he needs to get out of here asap!”
“We need to move!” Soap yells at you over his shoulder from where he’s returning fire at the enemy.
You act fast, harshly rubbing Gaz’s sternum to wake him up.
His eyes barely peak open, “Stitchy? What’s goin’ on?” He sounds drunk, which with how much blood he’s lost doesn’t surprise you.
“Hey, hey buddy, stay awake, your badly hurt we need to move.” You chirp, trying to keep your voice light despite the situation. “How you feelin’ bud? Can you talk to me?”
As you speak you rummage through your pocket, sighing in relief when you find what you were looking for, a stim shot and some pain relief.
Gaz had nodded off again in the brief time you weren’t speaking, and you lean in again to speak to him. “Gaz!! Come one buddy, keep your damn eyes open!”
“Stitch!” Soap calls from behind your back, the urgency in his voice can not be ignored.
“I know!” Deciding that you don’t have time to wake him up, you quickly stab the stim shot into his thigh.
That wakes up Gaz with a start. He flinches in pain, his eyes now wide open.
“Welcome back to the world buddy!” You shout at him, quickly injecting him with pain relief and tightening the sloppy bandage around his midsection one last time.
“Soap! Ready to move!” You call to him, hauling Gaz’s arm and part of his body, over your shoulder.
Soap leads the way, ducking behind rubble and returning fire when he can. You both move as quickly as you can, you would be lying if you said you weren’t struggling to keep up. Gaz was already fairly heavy, he also has all his gear on him which did not help your situation at all.
You were falling a bit behind Soap, but you kept hauling both you and Gaz towards him as fast as you could.
You were not going to let either of you die out here.
Finally you both reach the evac sight. Laying eyes on Price and Ghost you feel like you can breath again.
You run up next to where they’re positioned behind a large chunk of rubble. Laying Gaz down with his back to it you go to check his bandages again.
When you glance up to his face you notice that he’s awake. “How ya feelin’ bud?” You shout over the sound of gunfire, applying more pressure to his bleeding wound.
“Like shit.” He quips back.
You struggled to hear him over the sound of gunfire, but you were glad that he was conscious enough to talk to you and process what your saying.
Finally, fucking finally, your hear the sound of what might as well be the holy grail.
The heli lands about 20 yards away from you, cruising down to the ground, before it’s even landed Price is yelling orders.
“Stitch and Gaz move first, the rest of us will cover you from behind!”
You throw Gaz’s arm back over your shoulder and haul him onto his feet, thankfully he’s now awake enough that he can help you instead of you dragging him. Once you reach the heli you throw the top half of his body in, causing him to wince in pain.
“Sorry bud!” You shout over the noise of the chopper, pulling him the rest of the way in. You lean over him, securing him inside the chopper, then lifting up his shirt to check and make sure his bandages are still tight. Thankfully the bleeding has slowed down enough where there is minimal blood visibility through the bandage which makes you breath a sigh of relief.
You feel the heli taking off and you glance over your shoulder to make sure all your boys got onboard in one piece.
“Any other injuries I should know about?” You shout over the sound of the Heli.
“Your gonna have some if you don’t bloody sit down and secure yourself!” Price yells back at you.
You back off sitting yourself down next to Gaz. He was still hurt badly, but at least now he was as stable as you could get him.
All things said?
That was a shit show.
2nd
You hummed as you fluttered around the med bay busily. Moving from one spot to the other, carefully taking inventory with your trusty clipboard in hand.
You were truly in your element, everything was calm, orderly, and you were free to just do your job without any interruptions.
The door to the infirmary swung open, hitting the wall with a bang! In came Ghost, dragging a whining Soap behind him.
Ghost looked seriously pissed off, his eyebrows were noticeably furrowed under his balaclava and his shoulders were hunched. If you were to rely on context clues the only reason Soap was here was because of Ghost’s firm grip on his bicep.
“Can I help you?” You ask, face completely dead-pan.
Ghost doesn’t respond, just roughly pushes Soap towards you. Now that you have a better look at him you can see that his shoulder looks… wrong to say the least.
“What did you do this time?” You sigh, walking over to grab Soap by his ear.
“Owww” Soap whines “Sure! Pick on the injured person why don’t ya?”
“How do you always get injured at base but never on missions?” You taunt, pulling Soap over to the nearest available gurney.
You gesture for him to sit down on the bed, and when you turn around you notice Ghost, still standing where you left him.
“Either sit down or leave Ghost, there’s no lurking in my medical bay.” You say, grabbing what you need to treat Soap.
Returning to Soap you gently push him down on his non-injured shoulder. “Y’know if you wanted me like this you could’ve just asked.” Soap taunts with a wink, prompting you to sigh.
Thankfully he’s in a tank top or you would have to cut off his shirt, you know from personal experience with treating him that when you have to do that he makes plenty of comments.
“Alright, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch, don’t punch me.” You say as you put Soaps arm in the proper position for realignment.
“Wouldn’t dream of it la- OW WHAT THE FUCK.”
“All done” you quip, pulling off your gloves. You look back over your shoulder to see Ghost has moved to the foot of the gurney.
“What were you two even doing?” You ask, putting your supplies away and getting different ones out.
“Fuckin” “Sparing” They say at the same time.
You should’ve know better than to ask.
3rd
You can’t believe this. You can’t believe your boys. You knew they could be stupid sometimes but this is next level!
Thankfully most of them had gotten away with minor injuries, and somehow you had gotten out without a scratch, despite not even knowing the plan before they decided to execute it.
Soap and Ghost had only bumps and bruises, somehow, considering they were in the thick of their stupid plan. Gaz had a few scrapes and a sprained ankle, but you patched him up then set him off with a crutch and a promise to go easy on it. And the captain? You don’t even know how he managed it considering he’s supposed to be the smart one, but he broke his leg.
So now you are in the med bay, essentially holding your own captain hostage (not like he could get very far if he did decide to run off).
He is not a good patient. None of your boys are. He complains about being there, says how he wants to leave and how he wishes he could do things for himself. You understand that, but the best thing for him at the moment is rest, and he seems adamant on not taking it.
“Stitch”
“If you ask me if you can leave again I’m smacking you.” You say while walking over to him.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way for me to go get food is there?” He asks, looking far to innocent for his own good. He’s planning something. You just know it.
“I’ll call one of the boys to bring you something up.” You quip, already walking away, intent on y’know, doing your job.
“Stitch” You hear him call as soon as you walk away.
“Yes sir?” You question, turning around to stare him dead in the eyes.
“How long until I get out of this hell hole?”
“Until your leg heals or you get put on leave.”
“Leave?” He sounds actually startled at that proposition, prompting you to walk closer to him.
“Just for a few months sir, until your leg heals.” You soothe. As quick as the startled look in his eyes appeared it was gone. Masked down under his cool captain facade.
“You can have a few months of uninterrupted down time with your husband. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You ask, walking over to stand next to him, setting your hand on the knee of his uninjured leg.
“Have you met yourselves? You all will get killed without me here!” He exclaims, running a hand through his beard in exasperation.
“You’re one to talk sir.” You say deadpan. “Trust me the boys will be fine. They will be better off without you for a few months than they will be if they see you constantly cooped up in here.”
“Stitch, nothing good can possibly come from me not being here!”
“Sir,” you quip as you sit on the side of his gurney, “you need to give them more credit. They’re smart, strong, soldiers, and if you order them to they’ll hold themselves together until you return.”
“You think they can’t behave unless their ordered?” Price smirks.
“What can I say, I know them to well.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
4th
You woke up to a thudding in your head.
Thud, thud, thud.
Thud, thud, knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
As you come to, your groggy self realizes that loud, obtrusive noise is not coming from within your head, but outside it. You go to answer the door, (tripping over your blankets on the floor in the process) and find Ghost standing behind it.
You realize with a start that he’s in civvies, and has replaced his balaclava with a simple black face mask. While this should’ve been expected, it still comes as a surprise to you. They look unnatural on him.
“Ghost? What are you doing here?” You ask, trying not to scream on account of it being 3 am.
He nudges you to the side, walking in so you can close the door, and it’s then that you notice that his black shirt is getting even darker with blood.
“Ghost, what the fuck.” You sigh, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards your couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back with first aid.”
You run to the bathroom, fling open the cabinet under the sink to grab the first aid kit and run back.
“If you ran like that during missions we might have to cover you less.” Ghost muttered.
“Oh shut up, what did you even DO.” You ask, pulling up his shirt with a pad of gauze ready in your other hand to staunch the bleeding.
You find the culprit quickly, a long but shallow gash along his side. It would need stitches, but thankfully you could do that here.
“How’s it look doc?” He mumbles, barely legible.
“You’ll be fine after some stitches but how did you even do this? We’re on leave.” You question, absolutely exasperated. You all were on leave and you still couldn’t catch a break from your idiot boys.
His response is mearly to grunt and look away from you.
“Alright then, well I’ll go ahead and clean it up for you alright?” You mutter.
You go through the motions, this is something you’ve done a million times. Clean, antiseptic, stitches, bandage, done.
As your putting everything away you notice Ghost is staring at the floor, and something about him feels… off.
As you go to put the first aid kit away you nudge his foot with yours, “You feelin’ alright bud? You can stay the night if you need.”
“‘M fine” he mutters, still not making eye contact.
“Wow that was convincing.” You dead pan as you walk away from him to go put up your first aid kit.
When you return to his side you gently rest your hand on his shoulder and say, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but you can stay here as long as you need. I gave you all this address for emergencies after all.”
He eyes you, before reaching up to your hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “Thanks Stitch”.
“Anytime.”
5th
You are starting to believe you’ve done something to piss off the gods.
You have just gotten back from leave and already the rest of your task force is sick. It started with Soap, who had come back to base with it, except he insisted it was nothing and went about training like he normally does. Him refusing to rest like you told him to led to him getting Ghost sick, not a surprise with how much they… “hang out.”
Next was Gaz, who despite you telling him not to, was adamant about treating them. When he inevitably fell to the illness he went whining about it to Price, who despite his best efforts, still got it. You suspect if he hadn’t still been trying to get his leg back to what it was before he broke it he could’ve outran him.
And then there was you. The sole survivor.
For some reason all of them had decided to wallow in your room, something about Soap insisting it had “healing properties” because your a medic. You told him to get out. He didn’t listen.
Gaz had curled up in your bed, Price had taken the couch, Soap curled up in your arm chair, and Ghost took the rug.
You were going to do so much cleaning once you managed to get these fuckers out.
But for now, you had to be in medic mode. So you went in. Armed with a face mask, gloves, everything antiseptic you could get your hands on, you started your plan: get the sick bastards out of my room.
The first step was making them feel better, so you decided on a classic sick food; chicken noodle soup.
You pushed the door to your room open with your back, on account of you carrying a heavy tray with 4 bowls of soup.
“Hiya boys, how are you feeling?” You chirped, setting the tray down on your desk. “I brought dinner if your feeling up to it.”
Much to your amusement Soaps head immediately shot up at the promise of food. “What did ya bring?” He rasped, the poor thing had lost most of his voice when he got ill and he was only now starting to get it back.
“Chicken noodle soup, although I’m not sure the bastard who started this whole mess should get any.” You quipped, even though you were actively handing him a bowl.
“Thank ya kindly.” He mumbled as he took the bowl from you. As far as your boys went Soap was the closest to looking like his regular self. Yes he didn’t have much of a voice, and his energy was way down from normal, but he was the least pale, and obviously the one with the most appetite.
“Anybody else want any?” You asked, glancing about your room turned sick bay.
From the corner of your room you saw Price weakly raise his hand from the couch. “Geez dramatic much?” You snorted out a laugh while handing him his bowl.
“Don’t bully the ill Stitch.” Gaz huffs from your bed.
“Your in my room, I’ll bully as much as I please.” You huffed “Now do you want soup?”
You saw Gaz lift his head to look at the soup questioningly before shrugging and nodding yes.
Once you had one bowl of soup left you looked down at the dark puddle on your rug. “Ghost, dinner time.” You chirped.
“Leave me to my death.” He moaned back at you.
“Oh you’re hardly dying, here sit up and eat something you’ll feel better.” As you spoke you gently crouched down to him and started repeatedly poking him on the shoulder.
“What do you want you heathen” he muttered as he finally sat up, only to have a bowl of soup forced into his hands.
“Eat.” You said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care.”
Reluctantly Ghost pulled up his mask to his nose and began to eat his soup, with everyone fed you looked around to see if anyone was done.
Like you expected, Soap was already done and Gaz was about 2/3 of the way through his. Time for step 2, probably the hardest part: Medicine.
You walked over to your desk and looked through the bag you’d brought in with the tray. You were muttering curses under your breath when you finally found it. A bottle of NyQuil. Not only will it help their colds, it’ll also knock them out so you won’t have to deal with them! Win win! Looking over at Soap you decided he would be your first target.
Loading up a spoon with the liquid you carefully step over to Soap, trying to not set off any of his alarm bells.
“Can I take your bowl?” You ask him, making sure to have a normal tone that doesn’t give away your true intentions.
“Sure, thank ya.” He rasped handing you his bowl. Before he could fully take his hand off the bowl you whisked the bowl away and shoved the spoonful of medicine into his hand.
He stared at the spoon like it was poison, “Stitch, what IS this?” He questioned.
“Medicine.” You quipped back. “It’ll make you feel better. Maybe if you take it you can insist on training again to go infect more people.”
Soap let out a raspy groan, but despite his previous complaint he swallowed the medicine, making a comical face after tasting it, and handed the spoon back to you.
Your next, “victims” as you choose to call them, didn’t put up much of a fight.
Gaz didn’t complain once he realized you weren’t leaving him alone until he took it, and Price took it without a word. Overall, a pretty positive experience. Your next challenger however would be much more difficult.
You eye up Ghost, and decide at this point attempting to be stealthy is pointless, he’s already seen you carry out your plan, and thus you approach him with your ammo loaded spoon fearlessly.
“No.” He groans, voice muffled from how he’s laying face first in your rug.
“Ghost, it’ll make you feel better.” You try, but the mountain man simply acts as if he didn’t hear you. You start repeatedly nudging him with your foot, over and over and over again until finally he picks his head up to look at you.
You can’t see much of him because of the mask, but from what you can see his eyes are much more puffy and red than normal, and anyone could notice the subtle rasp to his voice that’s not normally there.
“You need to take the medicine.” You spoke calmly, like you were talking to a cranky toddler. “It’ll make you feel better. Plus everyone else already took theirs.”
“Well they’re weak.” He groaned, and yet he still snatched the spoon from you, shoved the medicine in his mouth, and then threw it back at you.
“Dramatic much.” You whispered to yourself, getting up to put everything away.
If there’s one thing you got from this experience it’s this:
You work with literal children.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1st
You felt like shit.
Not that you plan on letting that fact be known.
You’ve been attempting to put on some blush and concealer for the last 30 minutes in an attempt to make yourself look more alive. Your only responsibility today is a meeting to discuss your next mission so while it’s technically against dress code you don’t think anyone will notice, or if they do notice you doubt they will care.
Your body however seems to be stubbornly rebelling against your master plan to seem healthy. Your attempts to stand at your desk and put on makeup keep being thwarted as your head pounds any time you stand up and your vision blurs.
Despite your bodies valiant attempts to incapacitate you, you did manage to get your makeup on, put your clothes on, and get out the door.
Once you hobbled your way into the meeting room you saw that everyone was already there, as you took much longer than expected getting ready, which led to you being late.
“Damn Stitch you look… rough.” Gaz commented with a wince.
“Shut it.” You muttered, your voice already half gone.
When you woke up this morning you knew you were in for a hell of a week. You throat hurt like hell, and your voice was nearly gone. You kept coughing and sneezing and your head hurt horribly. All the same symptoms of what your boys had.
Despite your best efforts to get them out they had ended up staying for nearly a week. Soap left after about 2 days of rest, as he had it before the chaos started, but even with their ring leader gone the rest stayed put, with little signs of recovery. Due to this, your constant cleaning in between bouts of caring for them was futile, and 2 days after they recovered, it seems the inevitable happened. You caught it.
You sat with a thud in your normal seat next to Gaz, nodding at Price. “Sorry I’m late sir.” You grunted, barely able to get the words out.
“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.
“Never better.” You lied.
Price was still eyeing you with suspicion, but he turned to begin the meeting anyway.
Nothing much of note happened during the meeting, except the fact that Gaz kept giving you looks of increasing concern, and every time you let out a muffled cough Ghost gave you a death stare. Soap looked at you more than Price for the whole meeting, despite him getting told off numerous times.
At the end of the meeting you moved to get up to retreat to your room, but as soon as you rose your head started spinning aggressively, the world blurred into one large mass of color, and then black.
~
You woke up with a start. Sitting up and immediately backing into the nearest corner you assessed your surroundings.
You were in your room, and the lack of light coming through the window let you know it was night. You must have slept a while as it was still morning when your meeting ended. Upon feeling a weight tighten on your waist you looked down and felt your cheeks grow warm.
Gaz was curled up right next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. He was sleeping peacefully next to you, his body curled slightly. You thought it safe to assume he was curled around you until you shot up.
Looking around the room you saw the rest of your boys spread around. Ghost was lying peacefully on your rug (honestly you found his obsession with it a little concerning), with Soap half on top of him. Price was laying on your couch with his god-awful hat on his face, presumably to block out the nonexistent light.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a bout of violent coughing. Your lungs felt like stress balls as they were squeezed under the muscles of your chest, and in one violent motion you swung yourself out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom.
As you emptied your stomach contents into the toilet bowl you felt someone wipe away the sweat on your forehead and crouch down next to you.
“That’s it, get it all out.” You heard Soap mumble next to you.
As your stomach finished emptying itself and you spat into the toilet into an attempt to get the taste out of your mouth Soap gently leaned over to wipe your mouth for you.
You sat back on your haunches with your eyes closed, breathing heavily. You creaked your eyes when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps quickly approaching the door.
Ghost stood directly behind Soap, looking at you with poorly masked concern. Next to him, with a death grip on his elbow, was Gaz, who was not even trying to mask his concern at your state. Behind both of them peered Price, and while he displayed a glare on his face, you knew him well enough to know that was his way of showing concern.
“Respectfully Stitch, what the fuck?” Soap gently said next to you.
Instead of actually responding like all of your years of training and experience are screaming at you to do, your emotions take over and you start violently sobbing.
You feel miserable. You head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, your throat is on fire, all your limbs feel weighed down with lead, you can’t even stay awake long enough to walk to your own room and now your emotional state is such shit your violently crying in front of all of your boys.
The first one to react is Soap, who instantly tightly pulls you into a hug. The next is Gaz, who rushed over to tackle you- gently! In a hug. Price awkwardly walked over to sling an arm around you as well, and Soap turned around to grab Ghost by his ankle and drag him in.
“I-I’m sorry.” You gasped out between sobs.
In response to your statement Soap and Gaz’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
Finally, Price spoke. “Alright crowding em’ isn’t gonna help anything. Soap make sure they brush their teeth then get them the fuck to bed. Ghost, grab the medicine they gave us and anything else that might help. Gaz make sure they have water and a Gatorade on their nightstand. I’m gonna run to medical and get them some anti-nausea medication.”
Hearing that your boys all scurried off to follow orders.
Soap carefully raised you up, and made sure you had steadied yourself against the counter before releasing you. He grabbed your toothbrush for you and put a generous amount of toothpaste on it. After he handed it to you and made sure you were good he started busying himself with anything he thought needed a bit of tidying around your bathroom. Which was apparently a lot.
As he worked he spoke lowly, “Gave us all quite a fright there. Thought you were hurt for a moment and rushed ya to the med bay. They told us you were just ill and had us bring ya to your room.”
You spat out your toothpaste and muttered between sniffles, “sorry.”
As you cleaned off your toothbrush and your mouth Soap approached you and pulled you in tight. “I know we annoy the hell out of you with our recklessness, but I don’t know what I would do without ya. You’re the glue that holds us all together, without ya’ we all would be dead 10 times over.”
As Soaps little speech ended someone cleared their throat behind you, prompting you to turn around.
There stood Gaz, leaning against the doorframe. “He’s right y’know.” He said softly, slowly approaching you. “We would fall apart without you. And if keeping you in good shape means tending to you while your vulnerable like you do for us so well, then we will do it happily.”
“Gaz, you all gonna make me cry again.” You sniffled, rubbing harshly at your eyes.
His eyes grew wide at that and quickly pulled you into another hug, “Please no.”
“Alright, alright. We need to get ‘em to bed. Let em’ rest and what not.” Soap said gently pulling you from Gaz.
“Right right.” And with that Gaz gently took your hand leading you towards your bed. Soap followed closely behind, keeping a hand on your shoulder the whole time, like he was scared you would fall over again (not that you can blame him).
As they settled you in Price came in through the door, carrying a bucket and a small pill in his other hand.
“Alright, this bucket is incase you get sick again.” He said, setting it down next to your nightstand. “And this pill is for your nausea.”
He handed you the pill and the glass of water Gaz had gotten for you earlier. As you took the pill Ghost finally walked over with the medicine he has taken way to long to find.
“Alright here ya go.” Ghost said, attempting to hand you the spoon once you took the pill.
You however, were apparently not sick enough to not cause problems on purpose as you leaned comically far away from the spoon.
When Ghost gave you a pointed look you simply shrugged and said “Revenge bitch.” Before grabbing the spoon and taking the medicine.
“Alright I think that’s everything.” Price started, “We’ll leave you alone now and let you rest. Come on boys.”
As they moved to leave something came over you, making you call out to them, “Wait, uh please wait. Can… can you all stay? Please?” As you spoke you curled up further into your blankets, attempting to hide yourself in them.
Soap was the first to react to your question. “Aww sure Stichey, of course we’ll stay!” He smirked, practically prancing over to you to playfully ruffle your hair.
You scoffed, already regretting your decision, and rolled over to face the wall muttering, “forget it.”
“No no no.” Gaz said, quickly walking over to you, making sure to give Soap a good smack on the back of his head on the way. “If you want us to stay we can stay. It’s the least we can do. Right?” At that last word he shot a pointed glare towards the other members of the 141st, who all made varying gestures of agreement.
With that figured out your boys all settled in. Gaz practically latched onto you, pulling you to his chest and tucking your head under his chin. Soap, feeling extremely left out, decided to snuggled into your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling at the back of your neck. Soap waved Ghost over and with a sigh he slid his legs under everyone else’s and leaned half against Soap, half against the wall.
“Well looks like I can’t fit- what a shame,” Price began, only to have the back of his shirt grabbed by Gaz who proceeded to practically throw him over everyone onto Ghost, who promptly threw him off. He eventually settled in next to Ghost, half leaning on him, his legs fully intertwined with everyone else’s.
Once everyone was settled you felt incredibly comfortable. Your boys were all around you, and while yes, you still felt like shit, their heat and comfort more than made up for it.
The most important thing you got from this experience?
Your boys may be annoying sometimes, but there is nothing they wouldn’t do for you.
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dragabond · 2 years
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me: ugh I can’t breathe very good today why the fuck
me: -steps outside and smells smoke-
me: oh yeah there’s a fire on the mountain, that sort of fucks the air don’t it
0 notes
roserus-wizard · 2 years
Text
Ugh I’m stressing out there’s apparently evacuation warnings about 5-6 miles away from my house because there’s a big fire somewhere and I don’t want to stress out again about this
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katz-chow · 7 months
Note
hey 😏
MY TURN TO REQUEST 😈
how do you think Ghost would feel about his s/o who hates being touched but only allows him to touch them??? 😋😊
touchy feelies
warnings: gn! reader, combat medic! reader, gn!reader, pinning, a bit of mental exhaustion & guilt, self hair pulling
simon flinches if he’s caught off guard on base when someone gives him a friendly tap. even if it’s just soap who ends up giving him a friendly tap. he knows why that is, he just refuses to acknowledge it.
so when it comes to you, precious you, he gets it. he sees the way you side eye someone when they put a hand on your shoulder and how you shrug it off. he sees the way you avoid hugs like the plague. he sees you give weak smiles in exchange for pats on the back. he sees it all, he sees you.
the first time that you let him touch you, you both were skittish as can be. it was a simple fist bump but he knows it meant a lot to you. it was symbolic even. you initiated it, and thank god because simon would never push any boundaries, he wouldn't want it himself. it was simple really; a mission done well, you both staying alive with no major injuries, it was pretty ideal. as you both were about to land on the air-evac, you turn to him, a grin on your lips, "good to be alive sometimes huh?"
simon stared at you and your fist raised up a bit, he gulped but goddamnit, he couldn't resist it. he bumped his fist into yours and that alone made the both of you giggle on the inside like a crushing schoolgirl.
soap stared in utter confusion.
the next time you let him touch you was in the medical bay. you weren't broken, physically at least, but having to be on your feet all day with the weight of all those lives you couldn't save made you sick. it usually doesn't make itself known, today was just not a good day. simon was on his way to hit the showers when he walked past the open door, seeing you hunched over a crash cart, your head in your hands. the grip on your hair tightened and you looked just about to pull it all out.
he couldn't control his feet but soon he found himself backtracking and knocking on the door to get your attention. his body was attracted to you, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he was hesitant when you looked up at him, awaiting what he had to say. soon he was a mere two steps besides you. you stood up a bit straighter, head lifted and eyes focused on him.
his hand found your back, lighting touching your camis. "you're doing good, kid"
you don't know why but you didn't hate his touch, it was a good warmth. you stared at him. you tried to breathe it all in, and soon you found yourself breathing him in, a hug that you actually wanted for once. physical touch was new to the both of you, it was awkward, arms loosely around each other, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
the next morning he saw you just about barked at someone trying to throw an arm around your shoulders for a picture. he laughed to himself, a bubbly feeling in his chest.
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flintbian · 2 years
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Damn. I thought we got to September without having an absolutely horrific fire season for once and now here we are, sky covered in smoke and raining ash again
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captainfern · 7 months
Note
Hi!! I loved your marigold parts!! I was wondering if you could do jealous price finding out someone was flirting with y/n during training? /nf
All Apologies
Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“All Apologies” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - price never saw himself as a jealous man. not until a new recruit starts flirting with his lieutenant (you) lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3k • warnings - fem!reader, reader's a lieutenant so higher rank then soap and gaz lol, jealous!price, unprotected piv, hardly any foreplay (mans is desperate 🙏), quick and rough babe, praise, light exhibitionism? idk, strong language
sorry for the break in my writing recently but i'm slowly getting back into writing. hope this is ok x
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You had been tasked with training a new batch of rookies that eventually would make their way into the world of military task forces. You, a lieutenant, knew exactly what it was like to deal with these over-spirited soldiers. Ghost had warned you that training some of these "kids", as he called them, was not for the faint of heart.
You took that as a challenge.
And, well, it wasn't exactly hard. The group of about fifteen listened to you for the most part and, you noted, many of them were scared. Of you. You smiled each time they fixed their posture or stopped whispering when you walked by.
However, there was one rookie who was not scared of you. He wasn't exactly the greatest listener, either. But it was obvious that he was trying to hit on you. Why? You had no idea. But the man just wouldn't give up.
The flirting stared simple, simple enough you barely paid it much attention. Smiles and admiring gazes whilst teaching them drills, wanting to partner up with you when you were teaching evac manoeuvres.
But, as the training progressed through the weeks, so did the flirting. He brought you lunch during cool-downs, sat with you and talked your ear off while you ate. He was at your side during breaks, and more so during training. He loved partnering up with you, offering to be the crash-test-dummy when you were teaching the rookies fighting techniques.
Harmless flirting. A little crush on a superior.
But not to Price.
He could see the training field from his office window, and he stood there watching with his arms folded across his chest. He could clearly see the way that man was all over you, following you around like a lovesick puppy.
He rolled his eyes. Pathetic.
The rookie wouldn't even know how to treat you. Wouldn't know how to handle you. Wouldn't know what you needed.
Price knew what you wanted, what you needed. He'd treat you right, of course. He was a gentleman, not some desperate fucking rookie thinking with his dick. Price knew what his lieutenant needed, and it wasn't a rookie.
It was a captain.
Him.
"Fucking hell..." Price grumbled to himself, cigar between his lips. Jealousy, hot and incessant, stirred in the pit of his stomach like a ball of nerves. He had no right to feel this way. You weren't his.
But you were his lieutenant.
"Christ." He hissed, gritting his teeth as he watched the rookie put his hands on you for what felt like the millionth time.
You were being so good, teaching those rookies how to survive in your career. But you were just too good– letting that son of a bitch hold your hands behind your back, pressing you against his front as you demonstrated how to get out of the hold.
You were so good.
The rookie laughed at something you said, as did the other recruits. Before long, you were slamming the rookie onto the ground, straddling his middle with a wooden training knife against his throat. He had his hands on the thick of your thighs, breathing hard, a coy smile on his face.
Price grit his teeth so hard that he bit the end of his cigar off. The rest of it toppled to the ground at his feet, and he growled as he picked it up. His eyes burned holes in the rookie, where his hands held the fat of your thighs, eyes roaming up your body. Price hoped the fucking rookie could feel the daggers of his stare.
No one gets to look at you like that, except him.
And the fucker ruined his morning cigar.
•º•
"You wanted to see me, captain?" You asked as you entered Price's office that evening. You walked into the office with a small, pleasant smile on your pretty face, and Price's heart lurched in his chest.
He felt like an arsehole for being jealous. But he couldn't help it. There was just something about you that made him a man-starved.
"Lock the door, would you?" Price asked gently, trying not to portray his festering annoyance. You did as you were told, twisting the lock while Price got to his feet, rounding his desk and crossing the room.
You twisted around with a surprised look on your face as Price closed in on your space, your back to the door. You stared him down, and Price could feel the light brush of your chest against his as your breathing picked up.
"That rookie's taken a liking to you." Price said, cutting right to the chase. He saw your facial expression flicker to confusion for a moment, before your eyes brightened.
"Oh, Cairo? Yeah, he's great. He'll make a great soldier." You said, and Price felt his annoyance for the rookie increasing by the second. The way you smiled when you talked about him. The rookie.
Price scoffed. "He's obsessed with you. You know that, right?"
"It's a crush." You rolled your eyes.
"It's pissing me off," Price grunted. "He's barely paying attention to anything else but you."
You looked at Price with a glint in your eye Price had only ever seen once. Once, when the both of you had had too much to drink, and ended up in a very similar position to this one. Only, it ended with Soap drunkenly trying to kick the door down, scared he was missing out on something fun.
"You're jealous," you quipped with that beautiful smile Price loved. "You're jealous of the rookie, captain."
You trailed your fingers down his chest, feeling the warm muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. Price groaned back in his throat, a hushed, grumbled sound that made your smile grow.
"And what if I am?" Price asked, almost breathlessly, as your hand trailed further downwards. The tips of your nails scratched at his waistband, and he could feel his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers.
"I'd think that was totally understandable," you shamelessly flirted, your fingers dipping just a centimetre below Price's waistband, before you dragged your hand back up his abdomen. "I mean, if a rookie started flirting with you, I'd be livid."
Price let out a throaty laugh. "Would you now?"
"Mhm." Your hand skimmed up his throat, and you could feel the vibrations of his deep groans as you did so. You enclosed your hand around his jaw, fingers rubbing through his beard. He closed his eyes as you angled his face downwards, and slowly dragged him towards you.
"I mean, someone flirting with my captain?" You teased, the warmth of your words ghosting over Price's parted lips. "Well, I suppose I'd have to claim you as mine then, wouldn't I?"
Price grunted, another deep noise from the back of his throat, before he was surging forward and slamming his mouth to yours. You kept your hand on his face as you kissed, holding him to you. But he wouldn't have tried to break the kiss anyway– he was in fucking heaven.
The kiss was messy, fuelled by Price's overwhelming need to claim you as his. It wasn't graceful, or gentleman-like, as he had wanted it to be. It was desperate and rough, all tongue and spit, and as he pushed you harder against the door, he couldn't help but love it.
Your other hand was in his hair, tugging at the roots as your tongue met with his. His hands grasped and groped at the slope of your hips, the material of your thick cargo's angering him to the point he was pulling at your belt loops.
You laughed into his mouth, pushing him backwards and slipping your hands down your body. You unbuckled your belt, and Price was there in an instant to rip it away from you. You laughed again as you unzipped your fly and began shimmying your cargos down your legs.
Price slammed his mouth back to yours, the space between you agonising. He slipped his tongue back along your lips as you finally kicked your trousers off, leaving you pressed to your captains door in a t-shirt and underwear.
You were the one to break the kiss to breath, sucking in deep breaths as Price grumbled, trying to chase your lips. You smiled as he pecked at the corners of your mouth, and you grabbed hold of his chin again to steer him away.
"Someone's desperate." You joked, heart racing. Price responded with another grunt as he placed another couple of kisses to the corner of your mouth, before sliding his lips along your cheek and jaw. He began licking and sucking down the expanse of your neck, all the while slipping his hand into your underwear.
He moaned into your neck when two of his fingers made contact with your slick core, your arousal dampening the gusset of your underwear. Price could feel it against his knuckles. You keened into his touch as he rubbed two fingers slowly through your folds, the pace sending electric shocks through the base of your spine.
"Price..." You whispered, nearly a whimper, as his two fingers finally made contact with your dripping hole, teasing the entrance in loose circles. This time, you did whimper, when the rough pads of his fingers pushed inside you, so, so gently.
He moaned into your neck again, his tongue against your jugular, as he eased his fingers inside until the heel of his hand was pushed up against you. It pressed to your clit, thrumming with anticipation, and you felt your legs begin to tremble at the sudden pressure. You whimpered again, chewing on your lip to keep quiet.
The pace of Price's fingers sped up. Soon, the two digits were joined by a third, as he fucked you deep with his fingers. Wet noises filled his office, accompanied by the wet kisses he was placing down your neck, as well as the deep grunts eliciting from the back of his throat. You whimpered, clinging to his body, as your legs began to tremble. The motion of his fingers rubbed the heel of his hand harder against your clit, catching it repeatedly and making your mouth drop open.
Price pressed himself against you, keeping you pinned to the door. You could feel his cock, hard beneath his trousers, pressed up against you. You moaned, trying to get a hand between you, but the way Price was fucking you with his fingers made your limbs wobble. You whined outwardly, and Price moved his head to kiss you.
"Captain," you mewled into his mouth. He groaned lightly in response, his fingers curling inside you. "I n-need... fuck, I need you." You managed to stutter out as your orgasm flared hot inside you, but the weight of his clothed cock against your bare leg was making you dizzy.
He pulled back, eyes searching your face. He licked your saliva from his lips. "You want my cock? Yeah, you want it? Fuck... yeah baby, I'll give it to you, y'just need to come 'round my fingers first, okay? Okay, sweetheart?"
His words went in one ear and out the other, but you found yourself nodding. Nodding as, with one last curl of his fingers into that spongey spot inside you, you came. Your legs trembled, inner thighs shining with sweat and slick as he fingered you over the edge. You moaned loudly, and Price kissed you. You could feel him smiling against your lips.
You huffed against his mouth once your post-orgasmic haze began trickling from you, his fingers leaving your dripping hole with a wet schlick. You moaned when he pulled back and sucked his fingers into his mouth, eyelids fluttering. You moaned again when he took his fingers from his mouth and shoved them past your lips.
You wrapped your tongue around the three digits, enjoying the weight against your bottom teeth, while Price unbuckled his trousers– finally. You squeezed your legs together in anticipation, underwear drenched against you.
You hummed a pleased moan around his fingers when he pulled his cock out, fisting it a couple of times before guiding the tip between your legs. He rubbed it against your slit over the damp fabric of your underwear, and your eyes rolled as he caught your swollen clit.
Price removed his fingers from your mouth, using that hand to pull your underwear to the side. With his other hand, he repeated his earlier actions, this time without your underwear as a barrier. He dragged the leaking head of his cock through your folds, spreading your orgasm over your slit. It made you whimper, and he shushed you gently, placing a couple of quick kisses to the corner of your mouth.
"This alright?" Price asked as the head of his cock pressed heavy to your hole, slowly moving in just a couple of centimetres. It was almost humiliating how you squirmed against him, desperately trying to take more.
"Please, captain, I need you." You panted, head falling forward against his shoulder. You turned your face to the side and sucked above the collar of his shirt.
Price groaned, deep and gravelly and just the way you liked it. The vibrations tickled your lips as you sucked a bruise to his neck. Then, he slowly eased inside you, the stretch making you whimper.
"That's it, take it, there you go," Price whispered into your ear, making you whimper again. "There you go, sweetheart. Is this what you needed?"
"Yeah– ah, fuck." You moaned as Price snapped his hips, shoving his cock in roughly the rest of the way. The head of his cock knocked up against your cervix, and your cunt squeezed around him, making him groan loudly.
"Fuck, this pretty cunt's squeezing me so tight, sweetheart, fucking hell," he groaned out as he shifted his hips, dragging his fat cock out of you, before thrusting back in. He hummed contently as you moaned into his neck, and he gripped your hips, pushing you closer to him. Your underwear was tucked into the crevice of your thigh, the hand Price had on your hip helping it stay out of the way as he fucked you. He groaned again. "There you go, lieutenant. There you go, good girl. S'that feel good? Yeah? S'your captain making you feel good?"
Your reply was a moan against the flushed skin of his neck, your body buzzing as he slammed his cock into you. You could feel him in the base of your tummy, nudging inside you in a way that had sweat layering your skin and thoughts fizzling out of your brain. You could only whimper against him, clinging to his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the door.
His thrusts kept you pinned to the door, your shirt damp with sweat where your back met the wood. Your legs were shaking, with one on the ground and the other hooked around Price's hips. His cock hit that spot inside you over and over– that spot you could never fully reach with your fingers, and you briefly thought to yourself how you went so long without this.
"God, you're such a good girl for me," Price muttered, suddenly grabbing the back of your neck and angling your face to look at him. "You're such a good lieutenant for your captain, sweetheart."
He kissed you, and you couldn't do much in response to be honest. Your brain was falling short of telling you what to do, but you whimpered as his tongue pressed warmly to yours, and you could discern the lingering taste of your arousal in his saliva. That made you whimper, and he licked the sound from your mouth as his cock hit the plug of your womb.
You moaned, orgasm building quickly. Your legs were shaking, the base of your spine tingling. Your fingers tightened around his strong shoulders, your cunt tightening around his cock.
Price moaned. "You wanna come, sweetheart? You wanna come all over your captain's cock?"
This time, you somehow managed to get some words out.
"Please, please, please," you begged breathlessly, barely able to keep you eyes open as he fucked you towards your climax which built heavily in your lower belly. "Please, captain, please."
Price smiled, all coy and proud. The smug bastard, he knew how to make you feel good.
He knew what you needed.
"Come for me then, sweetheart, then 'm gonna fill you up, okay?" Price uttered, placing more kisses to the curve of your jaw, right below your ear. "I want you to tell me whose making you feel good. Whose filling this pretty cunt, hm?"
You hiccuped around a moan, your orgasm building so intensely that your vision was beginning to stray out of focus. You whimpered, high-pitched, as his cock continued to rut into you, ruddy tip slamming against your cervix and making you keen.
"Y-you, Price..." You whimpered, and the last syllable died on a moan. Price tutted, reaching a hand away from your hip to thumb your puffy clit. You whined his name again, breathy and light.
"Louder," Price grunted. "I want that fucking rookie to hear how good I fuck you– how good I'm filling this tight cunt."
His words all but ripped your orgasm through you. You moaned loudly as you came, cunt milking his cock in wet tremors. Your body trembled against him, and against the door, your heart rattling against your ribcage and that tight, hot pleasure releasing from your tummy.
"Captain– oh my–" You moaned loudly, your melodic voice ringing in Price's ears and making him groan out too.
You moaned loudly again as he came inside you with a groan of your name. He pumped you full, cum filling your cervix as Price pressed his pelvis to yours. He rutted into you a few more times, sealing his mouth over yours and swallowing the rest of the little whimpers that dripped from your lips.
"There you go..." He whispered against your mouth, finally stopping his lazy thrusts and pulling out of you, settling both your legs on the ground.
You whimpered, his seed dripping out of your fluttering hole. Price placed your underwear back over you properly, catching whatever else tried to dribble down your pretty thighs. He placed a soft kiss to your lips as he tucked his cock back into his trousers, still holding you up against the door.
"Alright?" He whispered attentively.
"Yeah..." You replied with a smile.
Price smiled too.
And, deep down, like the cocky bastard he is, he hoped the rookie heard all of that.
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victoria-grimesss · 8 months
Text
Nightmare
masterlist
->Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
->Words: 2.2K
->Warning: MDNI!! pre-established relationship, angst, death, smut, PinV , oral fem!receiving.
->Summary: A particularly bad nightmare scars Ghost. He draws you closer as you help piece him back together.
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Simon got nightmares a lot. They were frequent and usually contained the same things, nightmarish battlefield conditions that would shake anyone to their core. He would wake up in a cold sweat, the sheets clinging to him uncomfortably. His bed would be empty until he had met you.
You changed his life, the good parts and the bad.
You were like a little ray of sunshine that brightened his life. His walls in his home were blank and barren, he never cared enough to decorate. But you brought paintings of beautiful landscapes and fresh plants dotted the surfaces of the tables.
Each morning the smell of coffee and tea would grace the air and you would draw the curtains, allowing fresh air and light into the home. He would find you and wrap his arms around your waist, two mugs side by side one of each of your preferred drinks. You always made his just right.
He would kiss your neck and his hands would travel from your hips down your thighs and all the way back up to cup your breasts. He loved how soft you felt under his hands, how willing you were for his touch. He would drag you back to bed, or if he's incredibly impatient he would have his way with you on the kitchen counter.
Simon is a gracious and giving lover, he would spend hours between your thighs, he would practically get off on getting you off. He would hold your legs open and get drunk off of your taste.
He was truly home when he was with you, when he is with you.
---
He had a particularly bad nightmare one night, tourtorous.
He was scouring the battlefield, there were bodies and blood everywhere. This was a shit mission and he knew it. Felt it in his gut but no one listened. No one let you sit it out either.
He yelled your name, tripping on rubble that was still hot from the explosion. The sky was orange and dust coated the ground, heatwaves visible in the horizon. It was so hot and muggy, his mask was stuck to him.
You were here somewhere and he would die finding you if he had to, he couldn't leave you. The coms cracked to life calling him back to retreat but he didn't listen. They told him to leave you, you were gone but he didn't listen.
He heard a shifting in the rubble, a moan and the sound of gear moving.
"Y/N?"
"Simon, over here."
Your voice was harsh, dust coating your throat and a nasty knock to your head making it hard to see straight.
He stumbled over a large slab of concreate and collapsed at your feet, a sizable piece of concreate staircase was on your leg and he looked you over frantically, his eyes blown wide with your state.
"Are you hurt?"
He almost laughed if he could right now, you're pinned under a rock, now dry blood coating your arm and neck and you ask if he's ok.
"Yea I'm alright love. Let's get you home ok?"
"I can't feel my leg Simon, I can't walk you have to go."
He's furious, mad that this mission was allowed to happen with how dodgy it was.
"Like fucking hell I'll leave you here, I'll carry you if I have to."
He manages to just lift it enough to scoot your leg out of from under and it was sight. Crushed to all hell, bent in places it shouldn't be and it made him sick to see you like this.
"They're going to have to cut it off huh." You huff a laugh, obviously trying to deflect the severity of the situation.
"Probably. You'll get some hefty chest candy though and you'll get a nice vacation alright. I'll be there right with ya."
He lifts you into his arms, taking care not to move your leg too much, the wince that coats your face hurts him.
The walk is brutal, downed soldiers surround him for miles and the evac chopper just seemed to get further the closer he got like some sick joke.
Then a bang sounded, almost from thin air and he's frantically checking around him, he's stood on top of a large slab of displaced highway, the landscape stretches for miles and the sun is so hot and he's exposed.
"Simon."
He looks down at you and his breathing stops at the sight of fresh blood blooming from your chest, you cough and it comes from your mouth.
No. no. god please no, not you.
He puts his hand on your wound and applies pressure, he drops to his knees, and you grip his arm, the pain making you cry out and tears bloom in his eyes.
"You're alright love, I've got you. Just- just stay awake for me yea?"
The contrast from the sweat in his mask mixing with his tears make his skin burn and he rips his mask off to breath because he can't. breath. You're dying in his arms and he can't breath.
"I love you so much Simon. So, fucking much." You cough and more blood seeps from your mouth as you speak.
"Don't fucking say that you're not dying here alright not like this. You deserve better."
"You're a good man Simon."
He's crying now, the black paint on his face smudging and he kisses your forehead and then your lips, he feels you draw your last breath on his lips and exhale into him, he inhales your last breath and it hits him then.
"Y/N?"
"Love?"
He brushes the sticky hair from your face, your eyes are void of any life. He wants to pluck your soul from wherever it has travelled and put it back into you. Bring you back to him and cease the pain he feels, the pain that will always be there now.
He grips you tightly in his arms, rocking your body, your hand that gripped his arms falls limply to your side and he draws it back to him holding you as close as he can.
"Please don't do this. Don't leave please love I need you; I can't do this without you." He gasps because he still can't breathe.
His name dances in the air, once then twice. Like your spirit is calling to him.
Then he breaths.
He sits up fully in the bed, gasping and heart racing.
Your hand is on his chest, your eyes wide as you try to soothe him.
"It's ok, you're alright. You're safe at home."
His arms are around you; he embraces you in a crushing hug, his hand wraps into your hair as he inhales you shampoo. His other hand grips the small of your back holding you as close as he can.
"It was you. You died. Felt so fucking real."
"Oh Simon. I'm alright, see everything is ok."
You sit there for a while holding one another, until tears are dried and hearts are calmed.
Eventually Simon's hands move to brush the hair away from your neck and his lips place soft kisses and bites into the skin, relishing in your soft sighs.
"I really thought you were gone. Thought I'd never get to hold you like this again, touch you again."
He strips you of the sleep shirt you wear and cups your breast, kneading the soft skin in his palm.
"Never get to have you underneath me again."
Your breathing has picked up and you grip at his shoulder, still slightly sticky from the sweat but the way the light from outside hits him makes him out to be some kind of Greek stature carved from stone.
You're moved underneath him and he continues kissing you from jawline down to your chest where he takes one nipple into his mouth, holding the other one in his hand.
Your hands run through his short hair, lip in-between your teeth as you watch him.
"Simon, please."
"None of that tonight. I'm going to take my time on you, just lay back and let me have you."
Your hips try to buck from under him but his abdomen hold you steady. A hand snakes it's way down to your hips and his hand finds itself under the waistband, gripping the skin and flesh like his life depends on it. Like if he doesn't grip you hard enough you'll die.
As he kisses down your stomach he slides the panties down your legs at an agonizingly slow rate and you yearn to just grab him and bring him back up to you.
He throws the panties over his shoulder and kisses from your ankle back up to your inner thigh. He nips and sucks at each side, he kisses right around where you need him and he smirks are your impatience.
"Look at you, fuck. You're soaked. You want something?"
"Yes, fuck just hurry up."
"What was that? Didn't quite hear you right."
He's just awful when he takes things slow. You groan.
"Simon please."
"One more time, say it again."
"Simon please, god please just use your mouth."
"Atta girl."
He licks a long hot strip from bottom to top and you throw your head back. He moans into you, the vibration aiding in your arousal as you grow wetter and wetter.
"You always taste so good, you know that. Can never get enough of this."
He sucks and licks and your hands are woven into his hair pulling and pushing.
His hands are wrapped about your legs and you can't keep still so he wraps his hands around your hips holding you closer to his face and keeping your hips steady.
"Cmon, I can feel you getting closer, c'mon pretty girl go ahead."
Your breathing is so fast and you moan and thrash in his grip but he's got you locked down. The view you have is ungodly hot. His big arms wrapped around you, his mouth making noises against you that make you clench around nothing. And his back is exposed, the muscles highlighted by the moonlight, they flex and you plead for him to just fuck you already.
"Cum on my face and I'll fuck you, just give me this one and I'll seat myself deep inside you, need you soaked so you can take me all the way."
His words spur you on and you coat and grind on his face, he welcomes it and grips your hips tighter letting you ride your high and use him. He kisses his way back up and you taste yourself on his lips, he holds you face in both hands and holds you until you're both out of breath.
"Can you pretty please fuck me now." You whisper into this mouth, he shivers, his pupils blown wide.
"You ask so nicely how can I say no." His mouth meets yours deeply and he rips himself of his briefs and holds himself against your entrance, your wetness being more than enough to aid his entrance.
You gasp and he groans as he enters you, every inch feeling hot and hard as his mouth leaves blooming purple bruises on your neck.
He sits for a minute just holding himself fully inside you and enjoying how warm you are wrapped around him.
"So tight around me. I'll never get tired of fucking you. You're so beautiful underneath me."
He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your cheek. Your arms wrap around his neck and his movements are slow. He's methodical with his hips, he moves out slowly almost all the way just leaving the tip in until he thrust back in just as slow.
His arms cage you in and all you can see is him, you smell him, you hear him, and you feel him. With eyes locked he expresses all of his love for you in his movements. A lot of the time your join sessions are loud and fast but this one. This one is different. So full of love and passion. He's replacing that nightmare of you dying with you underneath him filled to the brim with him.
"Do you want to get married?"
You clench around him and he smiles, you're stunned by his question.
"Simon- are you proposing right now?" Your words shake as you slowly approach the peak.
"No. Just asking if it's something you want to do. Would you want to marry me?"
You grip his hair just a bit tighter.
"I do."
"Yeah? Yeah, I'd marry you too. Show everyone you're mine forever. Put a pretty ring on your finger so you can show it off."
You clench around him again and his pace quickens just a bit.
"Keep you safe, call you my wife. My pretty wife. You want that?"
You're reaching your climax and claw at his scalp.
"Yes Simon, please."
"Cum on my cock and I'll marry you. Be a good girl."
You both reach the end at the same time, stars and tension gripping you until you both grow slack and his full weight is on you.
Your hands run through his hair and you scratch softly at his neck and back, soothing him as you did when he woke up.
"Did you mean that?" You voice is just a whisper but it is heard over his ragged breathing.
"I saw you die. It won't happen again, not until we're both old as hell. And when you die you'll die my wife. I don't plan to drag it out any longer."
You smile and kiss his cheek, he holds you and finally he dreams of something better.
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imaginesheaven · 1 year
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Medic!reader x TF 141 - friendship headcanons
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Warnings: none really; mention of injuries
Captain Price requests especially you for the team since he got a glimpse at your file and got impressed instantly by your skills.
That’s is actually not really  surprising because you are quite the legend under the medics and soldiers. No one knows how you keep so many of your team members alive but you do with a quite high rate. This skill of yours turns you into the most wanted medic probably in the whole British Army.
The team isn’t quite sure how to deal with a medic in their lines. They never had one long enough to get used to them. So, at the beginning everything is a bit awkward for all of you.
Within the first mission you show them that you aren’t only a medic but also a fighter who will give everything to see another day. You even saved Soap’s ass in a quite sassy demeanor.
“Ha, Sarge. You owe me one.” – You wink at him grinning away while the men just share a quite confused but impressed glance.
With that you earned your spot at the Task Force 141 and the respect of their members for the rest of your life.
You love taking care of the boys, but you would never tell them directly. Your preferred love language for them is sassiness in every single situation you can think of.
“How is Soap?”, Price asks as you patch the soldier up, “He will survive … unfortunately. Which is quite the surprise with so much stupidity in him.” – “Hey! I can hear you, Doc.” – “Great, at least you are not deaf so I don’t have to repeat myself…”
Gaz and Ghost keep snickering in the back before you turn around and throw them death glares, “You two are not better than him.”
Captain Price loves that you have to deal with this shit too now in your own way.
Since you are patching them up quite frequently, they are treating you like the Holy Grail itself. You are probably the best protected member of the British Army the world has ever seen.
One of them is always by your side at the battlefield, “We got your back, Doc. Don’t worry~”
You are never worried about your own safety and health. These men would literally jump in front of a bullet for you to keep you alive.
“STOP PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER FOR ME! THIS IS EVEN MORE WORK FOR ME!”
Of course, you love them in a platonic way to pieces that they want to keep you safe no matter the cost.
Once on a mission you get knocked out by one of the rookies by accident, “We need a medic!” The poor boy had no idea what he gotten himself into. The team looks at you unconscious on the ground, “THAT IS OUR MEDIC! YOU BRAINLESS PIECE OF …”
Ghost and Price have to hold back Soap and Gaz before the punch the living hell out of the rookie. The poor boy is scarred and traumatized for his life.
Back on the home base they come to you with the tiniest injuries because you are their favorite medic ever.
“What is it, Gaz?” – “Got a paper cut. It hurts.” – “You got … a papercut. Do you want your band-aid with ponies or spider-man?” … “Ponies…”
You already have your first-aid kit ready when Gaz, Soap and sometimes Ghost do stupid shit together.
“Hey, Doc. What’cha doing?”, Price takes the seat next to you. Without a word you hold up the kit and point at the boys, “Working.” Not a second later you already hear the pained cries from one of them. “I have no idea how long you all could survive that long without me…”
Getting the call sign “Doc” from the team even if you had a different one before. Not very creative, but it is short and everyone got used to it way too fast. So, Doc it is.
They would never admit it out loud, but the thought men are scared to lose you as much as you are to lose one of them.
During another mission the enemy got you good with a bullet to your shoulder. There was no way you could take care of it yourself. Since the evac would be in the morning you had a whole night to bleed to death. There was no other way around to save your life.
You gave them a good description and a to-do list how they open the wound to get out the bullet and to patch up afterwards. The hard men watched you with pure fear in their eyes as you get everything ready for them to be the doctors this time.
“You can do this, boys”, you encourage them smiling, but all of you know exactly that your time is running out. They would lose you.
Ghost takes things into his own hands and will be the one getting the bullet out. The Captain stays by his side to assist as best as he could. Gaz and Soap are way too nervous to do anything except for holding onto each other.
“How about you two take care of the watch?”, Price gives them an order to get their nervous energy out of his reach. Of course, they would watch from afar instead of keeping their eyes on the windows.
The pain of opening the wound to get the bullet out of your shoulder gets the best of you. Nothing comes over your lips as you slump forward unconscious. Nothing has panicked these men ever before like your blacked out form not able to guide them through every little step.
At least you couldn’t hear the wave of curse words washing over you. Of course, they still manage to patch you up quite nicely and take care of you. You are wrapped up in jackets to make you comfortable as they watch you through the night.
“Shit, I have never done something scarier than this…”, Ghost couldn’t believe you are doing this so often never getting tired of it. You already earned all of their respect beforehand, but once again they are reminded how amazing you are.
“Doc didn’t even scream just passed out silently”, Gaz can’t imagine how painful that must have been. Secretly he wished to be tough like you one day.
“… Why are you all staring at me? You are so creepy”, it isn’t the best way to wake up with four men staring at you intensely like they did. Still you are very grateful that they saved your ass.  
Back home you pay for the first round of drinks since you are alive and get to see another day with your team.
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