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wibixthecowboy · 1 year

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Play the Song: Part 6: A Little Quieter

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

UPDATED TAGS PLEASE READ

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, swearing, weapons, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, I can fix him he just needs a hug, warning for an excessively bad taste in music, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV

A/N: Here is the long chapter I promised you! Sorry its so late... I may have indulged in a glass of wine.. or two.. so after I re-edit tomorrow it might be an entirely new chapter. OKAY IM DONE TALKING NOW ENJOY!

Words: 4.2k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

★Flash

Flash wakes quietly, eyes blinking open to see a dark expanse of a desert, and she has a blissful few moments of tranquility before her dreams come rushing back.

Her cheeks flush when she turns to Ghost, there was no way he could tell what her dreams had been about, but the thought of him somehow seeing the rated R images her mind conjured up horrifies her. Being so busy at the academy, even with her own room, leaving little time to indulge in more carnal desires. It had been years since Flash had even kissed someone, meaning it took an embarrassingly small amount of action to light the candle nestled between her thighs. In her defense, Ghost wasn’t much better, when he had stood between her knees that first night, Flash could see the way his hands shook with nerves and the uneven rise and fall of his chest. If it hadn’t been for his tense posture when leaving the bathroom, she would have guessed he’d, well, relieved himself. The thought of him getting off to her has Flash pressing her thighs together in embarrassment. Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

Once she’s collected her thoughts enough to focus on their surroundings, Flash notices the music is playing again, this time at a lower volume. She smiles softly at the image of him turning on her music and flipping through the songs.

“Do you like the music?” She murmurs, stifling a yawn with her hand. Ghost turns quickly to look at her, he must’ve not noticed her earlier fidgeting. He clears his throat before answering. Flash finds his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m usually too busy to think about listening to music,” He drums his fingers against the wheel once before continuing. His voice is softer this time, “Yes I’m enjoying it.”

Flash feels her smile grow at his admittance, giddy at the idea of him opening up, to her no less. She wants to press, to ask him about his favorite genre, if he has one, or if he’s ever listened to ABBA (a personal favorite of hers). But she schools her excitement, knowing pushing would get her nothing. She chooses a safer response.

“I’m glad.” She resists the urge to reach out and touch him, fingers itching to peel the mask up over the cut on his chin and patch it up herself, the blood has soaked through the dark material and wound a path down his neck. She instead settles on resting her head against the seat to watch him as he drives, doing her best to ignore his exposed forearms and the way they flex whenever he makes a turn.

“Me too.” This new side of Ghost has Flash melting into her seat, the gruff man that was shoving her to the side just the day before was peacefully sitting next to her listening to Fleetwood Mac. Oh, the wonders of the world.

_____

Even in the dark, Flash is still able to see the rough outline of the compound. The area is dimly lit with small orange lights glowing around the perimeter of the concrete building, giving it an almost halo effect. It’s a lot smaller than she was expecting, dwarfed by the staggering height of the academy, the compound and its attached airport were pitiful.

When Ghost stops the van in front of the building he’s quick to step out and start towards the compound, leaving Flash scrambling to collect her things and jog after him.

“What’s with the rush big guy?” She says, feeling more at ease after their less than life changing conversation.

“I have things I need to do.” His tone is short and as soon as he finishes, Flash realizes that the sort of comradery that they had going in the van was no longer an option, her smile falters a bit, but she doesn’t let it ruin her entire mood.

While they were still in their friendship arc, Ghost had told her about Gaz. He’d mentioned that they might get along well, as long as she didn’t take his title. It took her a few minutes of pestering and promising to be silent for the rest of the ride to get Ghost to admit that Gaz is the proclaimed baby of the group. Supposedly, Price let him have first dibs on seconds. She made a bet that she’d have his spot in less than three days, and she was ready to get her 20 dollars.

Ghost holds the door open for her and watches as she thumps through the small space with her bag. When she turns to thank him, he’s already made it halfway down a hallway to their left. Flash huffs a breath in his direction and turns back to survey the large room in front of her. It's cozier than she was expecting. Although the room is made entirely of concrete, a handful of mismatched rugs make it feel less industrial. To her right, opposite the hallway of doors, is a small kitchen, separated from the rest of the room with a curved counter space. It has a small stove, fridge, and a table that looks like it's been taken out of an REI magazine with its bench seats. Further into the space, there’s a cobbled together living room, two worn armchairs facing a hideous orange loveseat.

There's three men there now, watching a black and white film on the small tv perched atop a rickety wardrobe. All three turn to look at Flash when the door closes loudly behind her. She gives them a sheepish smile.

“Hi?”

“Flash!” Soap jumps over the arm of the loveseat and walks towards her. “I thought we agreed Ghost was going to leave you with the cargo.” He teases.

When he gets close enough, Flash shoves his shoulder.

“And I here I thought I’d finally found my team.” She retorts and relishes in the pinch of his brow. He opens his mouth but a hand clamps down on his shoulder before he can speak. Vargas, or Alejandro as Ghost had called him in the van, steps around Soap to smile at Flash.

“If it isn’t our little Protector de Fantasmas.” He says slyly.

It takes Flash a moment but when she’s able to decipher what he said her body stiffens.

“Relax Rubia, word spreads fast around here.” Alejandro leans against Soap’s shoulder with an elbow, much to his annoyance. “He told me you had two of his men down before Ghost had recovered. That’s some impressive work.”

“I didn’t end up here by getting lucky.” She says and immediately regrets it. Flash is so used to defending her position that she doesn’t even recognize his words as a compliment, but from the earnest look on his face, she can tell he means it.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” He says with a half smile and Flash returns it in full, hoping it would smooth over her harsh comment.

Soap clears his throat and shoves Alejandro’s arm off his shoulder, supposedly done with their conversation. He turns away from her to gesture at the third man who is hovering a few feet away from the group.

“Flash, this is Gaz.”

He’s younger than she expected, and cuter too. He looks like a cover model for an airport magazine, bronzed skin and perfectly straight teeth that make her flush when he smiles. A classic case of too handsome to be human. She wants to ask him what position he played on his high school rugby team but decides against it at the last minute. First impressions are important.

“Hi.” She says and sticks a hand out, kicking herself for being so formal.

He takes her hand but instead of shaking it, he pulls her into a hug, clapping her on the back a few times. Flash is so close she can smell the remnants of his cologne, she can’t quite place it, but it brings her back to the Hollister across from her favorite smoothie shop.

When he releases her, the bag hanging from her hand weighs a few more pounds, and her cheeks burn a bit hotter.

“Welcome to the team Flash.” Gaz bumps against Soap’s shoulder a bit rougher than necessary. “I’m excited to have someone to talk to from this century.”

Soap shoves him back and gives him a pointed glare,

“What the fuck do ya’ mean?”

“I mean,” Gaz gets out between his laughter, “I don’t always want to hear about your suffering during the potato famine.”

Flash laughs loudly at this, once again basking in Soap's wounded expression. Maybe she would have to become allies with Gaz instead. Alejandro shakes his head at them before interrupting their squabble.

“I’m heading out if this is what our conversations have divulged.” He grabs his things from the endearingly rustic table and salutes Flash. “See you soon Rubia.”

She salutes back and ignores Soap and Gaz’s offended looks, watching Alejandro leave through the same door she and Ghost had entered through.

“Let me show you to your room,” Gaz says, apparently done with his pestering, and Flash realizes halfway through a yawn, how tired she is.

“That would be amazing.” She says with a sleepy smile.

Gaz leads her and a moping Soap down the same hallway Ghost had disappeared through and stops in front of the second to the last door.

“This will be your room for now,” He gestures to the solid oak door and grimaces before continuing, “The building was not built with the expectation of women so the bathroom is shared between two rooms. I’m sure you and Ghost can figure out a system.”

Flash’s eyes widen at his words. She’d be sharing a bathroom with Ghost? Jesus have mercy on her poor soul.

“Ghost? You mean I can’t share with you? Or Price?” Gaz seems to catch onto her panic and lets out a barking laugh.

“No sadly I have to share a bathroom with this pig of a man,” He says and kicks Soap in the foot. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. “And Price got the only room with an attached bathroom.”

Flash curses and takes a steeling breath. This is far from the worst thing she’s endured. But the idea of sharing such an intimate space with such a private person has her heart racing.

“I’m sure it won't be much different from your dorms.” Soap says and Flash can’t believe she’s gotten both pity and reassurance from the two. She really must have drawn the short straw.

“I had my own rooms at the academy.” She grumbles and both men look at her in disbelief so she awkwardly pieces together an explanation, “When you’re young and better than a lot of men, they like to find ways to keep their ego inflated. Nothing too bad ever happened. It was more of a precaution.”

Flash feels awkward opening up to two people she’s known less than a week, but it gives her a sense of relief to finally tell someone. Soap gives her a sad smile and Gaz rests a warm hand on her shoulder.

“You won't have to worry about that here then. Go in and get settled, we already ate but you’re free to have whatever’s in the fridge.” Gaz gives her another one of his dazzling smiles and turns to leave with Soap.

Flash is quick to shut herself in the room, already blinking back tears. So this is what they meant when the other recruits talked about finding a family. All of her years of training suddenly feel worth it.

She bites her tongue as another wave of emotion rolls over at the sight of her room. It actually looks like a bedroom. A large bed takes up most of the space, framed by two small nightstands, and a plain oak wardrobe rests against the far wall next to a full mirror. It's simple, but the warm light spilling from the bedside lamp ties the room together with a gold bow.

What she see’s next though, has her heart leaping into her throat. Her iPod has been set on the nightstand, next to the carefully wrapped shape of her headphones that she’d so carelessly left in the van. He’d been in here?

Flash sets her bag on the bed before walking carefully through the door to her left, not wanting to risk a creaking board under the carpet. They definitely didn’t hold back this time. A long counter with two porcelain sinks stretches the distance of the bathroom, across from it, there’s not only a standing shower but a large clawfoot bathtub. It's been years since Flash has taken a real bath and she nearly caves at the sight of it. The door at the far side of the room keeps her focused. Still stepping lightly, she stops right in front of the door and raises her fist to knock against it. She hesitates at first, her fist only gliding across the wood surface before she’s knocking harder.

There’s no answer at first, but when she knocks again she hears a muffled come in. Flash falters for a moment, she hadn’t prepared for him to actually answer. She takes a deep breath and turns the handle, pushing the door open.

The breath she’d taken is immediately knocked from her chest when she sees Ghost writing at a desk. He’s dressed down to a tight black shirt and a pair of jeans, an outfit that despite its conservativeness, has Flash feeling like she needs to cover her eyes. The balaclava is crooked at his neck, obviously hastily put on, and the thought of him sitting just a room away without it makes her stomach flip.

“Can I help you?” His rough voice has whatever sad excuse Flash had for interrupting him flying out of her head. She recovers quickly though.

“I wanted to thank you for bringing my things in.” She says quietly and he just shrugs, not looking up from his journal.

Flash hovers for a second, looking around his room in hopes to find another conversation starter. Ghost’s room is nearly identical to hers, sans desk. His bed is rumpled but the rest of his room is in near perfect condition. When her eyes land on the small stack of books on his wardrobe she sees her opportunity.

“Could I borrow a book?” He does look up at this, wordlessly glancing between her and the stack. “I forgot my charger and I have a hard time falling asleep without my music. Maybe if I read I can bore myself to sleep, not that you’re books are boring! I just mean it might be relaxing.” She knows she’s rambling but she’s to distracted by the tilt of his head to care.

“Go ahead.” He says, waving a careless hand toward them and returning to his task

Flash quickly walks to the stack, grabs the first one, and retreats back to the doorway. It’s clear that he’s waiting for her to leave, but she can’t bring herself to shut the door behind her.

“How does your chin feel? That guy hit you pretty hard.” She says hesitantly.

“I cleaned it.” Ghost huffs in an uninterested tone.

“Are you sure? It looked bad from where I was sitting.”

There are a few seconds of silence and during them, Flash watches Ghost relax a bit further into the wooden chair.

“I’m fine Flash” His voice is softer now, and when he says her name, a warm shiver runs up her spine.

“Okay then, well, goodnight?” It comes out as more of a question and she kicks herself for being so easily affected. He doesn’t respond right away and she’s about to close the door when he finally speaks up,

“Goodnight.” She almost misses it, but when she hears his quiet reply she practically slams the door shut, running through the bathroom and throwing herself onto the bed.

It takes a tremendous amount of strength to peel herself from the covers to clean up in the bathroom and it takes even more to not look at every product he has next to the sink and in the shower.

When she's finally settled, old western novel in hand, she doesn't even make it through the first page before nodding off.

______

Their little dance goes on like this for the next two weeks. Despite her constant protesting, Flash is left at the compound to train with Price while Soap, Gaz, and Ghost run through several small busts. None of them memorable enough to recount when she comes barreling into his room upon his return. Her presence has become more bearable. After seeing their team's appointed psychiatrist, he’d been put on a heavier dose of anxiety medication. When Price found out, he insisted that Ghost also make a point to talk to the doctor about his problems. Claiming that their team needed him at his strongest. That's where he is today. Sitting in the conference room, now a makeshift therapy room.

Comforted by the notion of doctor-patient confidentiality, Ghost lets the hard set of his shoulders relax against the green armchair of the psychiatrists office. Opposite of him sitting at a large oak desk, Dr. Marks, a balding eccentric psychiatrist who he’d been becoming more familiar with over the last two weeks. The doctor sighs as he flips through the various medical records in Ghost’s file before closing it entirely and shoving it to the side of his desk.

“And you said that your only side effect has been trouble falling asleep?” He didn’t want to admit it, but the pills have been helping. He’s only taken them a handful of times since having the dosage upped, but they did their job a bit too well. With a clearer mind, Ghost is able to identify his source of panic much quicker, but that also meant that nights spent alone were filled with images that he simultaneously craved and loathed. That had been their topic of conversation this past week, Ghost’s unflinching desire for domestic life.

“Yes.” Ghost mutters.

“I can prescribe you a light sedative, nothing too strong, and in a small amount. You can refill it as you run out.” Dr. Marks leans back in his rather antique looking leather chair and rubs a hand against the silver scruff on his jaw, giving him that same sad smile. “I’m sure you can understand why.”

Ghost gives him a curt nod, not wanting to open up more room for discussion on the subject.

The doctor seems to pick up on it and swiftly changes the topic, already used to Ghost’s aversions to that certain page in his file.

“Have you thought any more about what I told you last session?” Dr. Marks asks softly.

“I’ve thought about it, yes.” Ghost says, avoiding eye contact by picking at the rough linen fabric of his own armchair.

“And?”

“It’s not going to happen.”

When Ghost looks up he can see the pity in the doctor's eyes. It’s seemingly the only way people know how to look at him like he's something that’s needing coddling. Except for her, and that’s his problem.

“There is still an opportunity for happiness, it’s in there Simon. When you’re ready to bear it, it will find its way back to you.”

“How can it find me if I can’t even find myself.” Ghost sags further into the cushion of the armchair, choosing to observe the dark wood grain of the desk rather than the eyes staring straight through him. He already regrets opening his mouth.

“You’re a lot closer to finding yourself than you think. Sometimes we need assistance though, and that’s okay.”

Ghost huffs a quiet laugh at his words and stands, ready to be out of the suddenly stifling atmosphere. Dr. Marks stands with him, reaching a hand across the table. When Ghost takes it, rather than shaking them, the doctor rests his other hand on top and gives their clasping hands a gentle squeeze.

“You’re still young. Don’t let your past control your future, it can be suffocating but you’re stronger than you think.” Dr. Marks gives him a kinder look now, one that has Ghost’s throat tightening. He needs to get out.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know when the prescription comes in, I don’t have a small enough dose I can give you now but it shouldn’t be too long.” It’s again followed by the same ‘I feel guilty but don’t know what to say' look that he dreads so much.

Ghost gives him another nod and covers the space between his chair and the door in just a few strides, opening and closing it quickly without looking back.

Before he even reaches the doorway he can hear her laugh. A bright sound that warms his chest and leaves him a bit breathless. When he does walk into the room he sees Flash, Soap, and Gaz sitting around the kitchen table arguing over a card game. From the looks of it, Soap is losing, he’s slumped back against the wall glaring daggers at Gaz while drawing cards from the main deck.

Ghost turns to look at Price who is sitting in one of the two armchairs facing the kitchen, watching the three with a smile on his face. He strides over and takes the chair next to him.

“How’d it go?” Price’s eyes don’t leave the group.

“Better. I’m getting something to help with my sleep.” He says with a sigh.

Price does turn to look at him now, brows furrowing.

“We won’t have any problems will we?” Ghost feels the burn of shame on his cheeks.

“No. Small doses.”

“Good.”

They go silent after that. Both turn to focus back on the rowdy group. Ghost finds himself zoning in on Flash. Her laughter has turned the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink and even from across the room he can see the way her eyes shine. That same tingling tightness that has plagued Ghost for the past week returns at the sight, squeezing the breath out of his lungs in a warm embrace.

“She’s a sweet one that girl.” Price says, gesturing towards Flash with the bottle in his hand. “It makes me worry.”

Gaz, taking advantage of Soap’s bathroom break, has started slipping cards into his hand left on the table. Flash is bent at the waist laughing, wiping away tears, and begging Gaz to stop before he returns.

“I wouldn’t.” Ghost says distractedly. Price raises an eyebrow at him.

“You would know?” Price’s gaze softens as he takes in Ghost watching her. “You’ve taken a liking to her then?”

Ghost stiffens at his words but doesn’t bother arguing, Price is the only one he doesn’t bother lying to. He’s able to see through Ghost’s rough exterior wall too easily.

“You know I can’t.” Ghost's voice is a near whisper.

“It’s not against code, young as she is she’s just as much of a Lieutenant as you are.” Price says softly. Ghost turns to look at him, missing Soap’s boisterous reaction to his now deck of a hand.

“We both know it’s not that.” He mutters.

“You can’t shut everyone out forever Ghost.” Price says before taking a sip out of his bottle.

Ghost is about to tell Price that he absolutely can when a voice shouts across the room for him,

“C’mon Ghost! Come play with us!” Flash yells while beaming in his direction and Ghost feels his knees weaken at her excitement over him playing a game, it was usually quite the opposite. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d sat and listened to Soap and Gaz complain about having to be on his team. It was never done on purpose, but it still struck that small chord that rested at the base of his skull. The one that was currently urging him to take the seat next to Flash and forget about the warning sirens going off in every other part of his brain.

“I’m heading off to bed.” He says instead, knowing nothing good would come of it. Flash frowns at him for a moment but then shrugs her shoulders. He stands from the chair and starts towards the hallway of rooms.

“Awe well I’ll just take Soap up on his offer. He said we could go,” Flash scrunches her nose and turns a questioning gaze to Soap, ”what did you say?”

Soap looks at Ghost with a devilish smirk and even though he’s speaking to Flash, Soap keeps his eyes locked with Ghosts.

“I said we could go practice her poker with Alejandro’s boys.” Soap says simply. Ghost freezes and all earlier hesitation evaporates.

“How do you play the game?”

#ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #simon riley #cod fic #simon ghost riley #Slow burn #family dynamic #modern warefare 2 #ghost stories #soap #mw2 headcannons #mw2 smut #ghost likes his hair pulled

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jaykinarts · 7 months

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Something about how Rosalie and Campbell only have each other now after everyone had gone their separate ways, something about how Eddie and Francine's future is uncertain with no hope of improving their lives, something about how Eddie said "Do you want to end up like me" to Campbell, who's only ever looked up to him as one of the first positive figures in his life who gave him the opportunity to DREAM.

Yeah okay, thanks for that Takin' Over The Asylum 😭 Anyway what should be my next fic, Ive already done my Fergus grieving one so Im looking to do more >:)

#takin' over the asylum #takin over the asylum #rosalie garrity #campbell bain #francine boyle #eddie mckenna #oh fergus.. Your family's become a mess without you #fergus mackinnon #Im crying #family dynamic #tota #I hate them so much #I love them so dear

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milkcookiekin · 1 month

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ghostwalker x teenager reader hcs (platonic!)

- you’ve known each other for a while, but regardless, he’s still very indifferent to you. he tolerates you at best and can be a little annoyed with you at worst.

- as long as you don’t get in the way of his work, he’s fine with having you around.

- he doesn’t grow any sort of attachment to you, because that’s just how he is, but he doesn’t dislike you either.

- he does give some interesting bits of wisdom and advice for you, which actually ends up being very helpful.

- while he doesn’t grow attached to you, he can be more fond of you than others, and hell, maybe he can even see you as an apprentice or student of his.

#phighting x reader #ghostwalker phighting #ghostwalker x reader phighting #ghostwalker x reader #ghostwalker x reader platonic #platonic #family #family dynamic

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year

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New Year's Snippet

Yeah, yeah. I know, it's like January 4th where I am at at least. So it is late but wtvr.

TW: Smoking, loneliness, refrences to a not-so-stellar family life

Villain perches themselves on the roof of their house and takes a long drag out of their cigarette. They let out a long-suffering sigh as their eyes flit over to the street below them, filled with bustling people rushing here and there, no doubt to get to their friends and families.

The sight of the New Year decorations makes them sick, and they let out a humourless snort as they think of how much they're reminiscent of the Grinch on Christmas. Except they don't plan to ruin anything. It's not like they care enough about this stupid holiday to harbour any feelings towards it, even those of hate.

Indifference was always the best reaction.

They take in another long drag, trying to use their cigarette as a distraction from that overwhelming feeling that leaves their chest with a tighness akin to thick, unrelenting ropes wrapped cruelly around their heart. Loneliness. And for all it was worth, Villain attempts to lie to themselves that it's not the case at all.

And no matter the number of long drags they take in, nicotine isn't magic. Whatever semblance of mellow feelings it will offer are only temporary. And it can't force Villain to learn indifference any better than they can.

They're snapped out of their miserable reverie by the telltale sound of Hero landing on their roof, clearly not going for stealth. Villain rolls their eyes and lets out an irritated sigh.

"What the hell do you want from me? Don't you have some sappy, little New Year's party to get to?" they sneer coldly.

Taking a seat next to them, rolling their eyes a little but laughing goodnaturedly, Hero simply replies with, "Indeed, I do have a New Year's celebration to get to at my sibling's house. What plans do you have Villain, besides smoking yourself into lung cancer?"

"I've got plenty of stuff to do, Hero," they answer pointedly.

"Oh really?" their nemesis quirks an amused brow, an infuriating grin playing on their lips. "I'd love to hear all about these plans, Villain. Go on, I'm listening."

"Well, I- eh, I'm going to, I'll eh. Oh, forget it!" The criminal's face flushes a bold cherry shade at how horribly they struggle to lie. And their torment is furthered by the fact that this idiocy was in front of none other than Hero.

The crime-fighter in question, finds is quite disconcerting to see the fearsome Villain from the 'WANTED' posters highly reminiscent of a rather sad cat drenched in rainwater. And Hero is determined to change that.

They'd told them once that their family never cared much for doing well, anything together. "Villain, sweetie, do you want to come over to my sibling's party? They really won't mind, and they actually love having guests over. And they do make the best steak and mashed potatoes."

"I don't want your pity!" they snap.

"It's not pity, I just thought you'd have more fun spending New Year's Eve with someone else. And it's been a while since I've brought a friend over, and yes I know we're enemies but when it comes to our relationship these are all just semantics an-"

They cut the hero off with a raised hand. "Fine, I'll go with you. But only because you said your sibling's cooking is good." They slide off the roof and throw the no longrer lit cigarette into a trashcan.

Hero practically skips down the street as they walk to their sibling's house. For the first time, all the colourful lights strung up and the streamers and figurines everywhere didn't annoy Villain, they actually looked somewhat beautiful against the snow.

Hero's sibling doesen't question it at all when they show up. Hero introduces them as a friend, using civilian names all around, and they get welcomed in like Sibling was expecting them.

True to their nemesis's words, the dinner tastes amazing, particularly the steak and mashed potatoes. Sibling is quite obviously talented in the kitchen, and Sibling's Spouse is lucky as hell really.

They pass the next few hours watching some campy New Year's movie that somehow makes Villain laugh, even if it's only a few times. They decide to play Monopoly, and there was quite possibly no one as competitive as Villain aside from Hero.

"Cheater! I saw you take that!" they point their finger at them accusingly.

The crime stopper glares at them. "That is my money. If anyone's a dirty cheat here, it's you!"

And it continues like this, until Sibling breaks them apart and suggests they do something else, so they don't end up throwing hands at each other.

Sibling's kids, two, unruly twin boys with vibrant, curly ,red locks, decide that a game of tag is the best course of action. Spouse gives their lover a wry smile, but they both agree, mostly after the boys' pestering reaches intense levels.

The children, for some odd reason, take a liking to Villain and ultimately crown them worthy of reading their bedtime story tonight. Maybe because they were the fastest and most successful at tag.

Spouse sets a large chocolate cake on the dining table. "I made this because cooking is my passion and not at all to try and impress Sibling." Their sweetheart smirks at them, kissing their cheek and Spouse blushes, kissing their hand.

"Gross!" the twins yell, making everyone giggle. Even Villain.

"It's tradition that someone cuts the cake once it's midnight," Hero tells them.

"And since you're our guest, we all think you should do the honours," Sibling says, smiling warmly.

Villain takes the knife in their hand, heart fluttering in their chest at the strange feeling they have. They feel included, wanted, something they've never felt in their own home, with their own family.

They all do out the countdown together, Villain cutting at the exact time. And it's delicious, in spite of Spouse's original doubts. Everyone, especially the kids gets seconds.

Speaking of the children, the criminal had managed to lure them into their bedroom and was now reading them a story. "Okay, so this story has children with no concept of Stranger Danger, eating a from a candy house in the middle of nowhere and they almost get eaten by a cannibalistic witch whom they murder by burning alive, and you're telling me this is a children's story?" They raise a confused brow as they slam Hansel and Gretel shut, and their words only incite giggling from the twins.

"Goodnight, Villain Civilian Name. Please come here again."

"Yeah, you have to!"

"Night, kiddies. I'll see what I can do about that." They smile fondly and the kids, ruffling each one's hair and step out of the room.

They stay up for a bit, until exhaustion overpowers them, and they fall asleep on the living room couch.

The next day, they somehow wake up in a bed. It may or may not have something to do with the sleeping Hero on the living room couch...

Indifference is not always the best emotion. Whatever it is they feel, this warmth, cannot be expressed in mere words, but it certainly wins over total apathy any day.

HAVE A GREAT 2023! <3

#a little gremlin's writing #happy new year y'all!#fluff #hero x villain #female writers #writers on tumblr #writing #family dynamic #somewhat self-indulgent #hero #villain

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whump-ghoul · 10 months

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Whump Month #12: Panic

For @cirrus-ghoulette’s Whump Month!

Summary: Young Giovanni comes down with a case of the chicken pox, and Antonio is worried. (I rushed this a little, but wanted to look into Copia and Primo’s relationship when they were young. Twig is also here.)

WC: 1458

Tags: Original names for the Emeritus brothers. Primo: Antonio, Secondo: Valentino. Terzo: Dante, Copia: Giovanni. / No definitive ages, though Primo is much older than Secondo and Terzo. / Original Ghoul Character

Maybe Twig was jaded from his time in the Pit, but the concept of infirmary visitors had him perplexed. Why would the healthy wish to wait with the sick and themselves and the patient vulnerable to further illness? Maybe it was jealousy, or maybe it was logic, but Twig often thought about it during his long infirmary shifts.

Outside of the tall windows shrouded by white curtains, a steady rain thrummed against the panes, drowning the outside world in the autumnal downpour. He sighed, reclining back into his chair as the potted plant next to him wilted at his aura. He pouted and poked the plant, finding distraction in healing the leaves as well as pulling a stick from his pocket. Biting into the soft flesh of the wood did little to better his mood however, as his most recent patient began to cry. His ears pressed back as a terrible wailing crossed the room, grating on his sensitive ears and waking the slumbering visitor. Sighing, Twig swung his legs from where they were propped on the desk, and paced the length of the ward. Two hours, two hours of quiet was all the patient had managed.

The visitor, a Cardinal, was quick to hush the patient, his hands grasping the sheets in a white-knuckled panic as the shrill cries of the patient set Twigs teeth on edge. He bit harder into the wood as he approached, beelining towards the nearby table where he kept his supplies.

Upon the bed was a small child, just over a year old and quite small for his age. He had short, auburn curls and long eyelashes that brushed against his fever-blotched cheeks that were covered in red spots, as was his entire body. Upon the small boy's arrival to the ministry, having traveled a distance with one of Nihil's many partners, he contracted a nasty case of chickenpox; treatable but unpleasant.

***

Twig was happily sitting at the desk, frowning over a crossword from a topside newspaper when the doors to the infirmary flew open, causing him to spit out the bark he had been chewing on. Immediately, the earth ghoul recognised the eldest Emeritus brother - Antonio - as he charged through the doors, a wild look in his eyes and a screaming bundle in his arms.

“The child.” He gasped. “Something’s wrong.”

Twig tried to take the bundle of blankets from his arms to assess the patient, but Antonio refused, instead he led him to the bed where he sat, balancing the child on his lap to give better access to the ghoul.

Twig produced a questioning trill towards the Emeritus brother, and began pulling the blankets aside, frowning at the intense fever radiating from pale, clammy skin.

“His fever is so high and he’s come out in red spots. He won't keep anything down - please, he’s so young.”

Chicken pox. Twig had seen it before, often in siblings that had never been exposed to it as a child. The boy was going to be just fine, the earth ghoul had already began pulling the large tub of homemade salve from the medicine cabinet, as well as a fresh washcloth for the fever. He paused as he looked at the vial of medicine, wary of giving it to a child so young.

“He’s been fussy for a couple of days, itchy too. Imperator told me that he was fine before she left for her business trip, but something’s just not right. He was refusing to eat and overnight he appears to have developed these spots-”

“‘Tonio?” A different voice, younger, called from the door. They were by the bed in a flash, the two youngest Emeritus brothers crooning over the screaming child in the blankets.

“We got your note.” Valentino said, watching as Antonio bounced the child on his knee, which helped somewhat.

“What's wrong with him? He looks weird” Dante, the youngest of the brothers, said. He gingerly stepped back behind Valentino, the older teen towering over his short frame. Hm. From all of Twigs reading on human anatomy he was sure Dante should’ve hit some sort of growth spurt by this age.

“Ghoul?” Valentino pressed.

“His name is Twig, Valentino.” Cardinal Antonio reminded him. Twig nodded his thanks, then gestured for the child to be laid down on the bed. Reluctantly, Antonio obliged, the brothers still hovering close as Twig removed the swaddle and onesie with gentle hands. Much to his annoyance, he’d had to clip his nails short lest he harm someone accidentally. He then unscrewed the lid to his pot of cool ointment and collected it on his fingers. The child initially jolted when the cool cream hit his exposed, feverish skin, and the ghoul could practically feel the brothers close in, and if they were of ghoul descent, he was sure they would’ve growled at him.

Miraculously, the child's whimpering began to die down, and even giggled when Twig applied the cream to his ticklish feet and sides.

“Chicken pox.” Twig grunted as he was finishing, a little perturbed to see the brothers begin to take up residence around the bed. After all, he didn’t want the boys to get sick with something so easily avoidable.

“How long until he gets better?” Dante was already impatient from his spot at the foot of the bed.

Twig shrugged. “Week. Maybe two”

“Thank you, Twig.” Antonio looked aged; old before his time as his parents overworking him as well as the rearing of three younger children evidently had an effect on him. He made an internal note to supply some herbal teas, or maybe even introduce him to a hobby such as helping out in the greenhouse to ease his stress. In that moment, Twig felt a strange twinge of guilt for the baby, as surely he was destined for the same fate as his brothers.

***

“What’s wrong?” The Cardinal gasped, scrubbing sleep from his tired eyes. It had been four days already.

“Same.” Twig hummed, preparing a fresh, damp cloth as well as the next dose of medicine. Before he replaced the compress to the child’s chest, he felt his skin for a fever and became satisfied that it was receding. He placed the cloth and moved to measure the next dose of medicine, now modified to be safe for toddlers. He then reached for the tub of cream, already admiring how quickly the itchy spots were receding. He’d hate to admit it, but Dante’s idea of putting the child's socks on his hands aided in stopping him scratching the spots, and the frequent visits surely had the child feeling better in spirit.

“He is responding well.” He elaborated, when he felt the Cardinals eyes on his back. He could almost feel the Cardinals sigh of relief as he relayed the information.

“Good. That’s good.” He huffed, tucking the blankets up to the boy's chest; gentle but sure of his movements. Practiced, Twig supposed. The Cardinal hadn’t left the boy's side, deciding that his work was best completed at his bedside since they entered just days before, and the ghoul supposed that he only got away with it since Imperator was away. Small victories and all, as Twig knew no more than how to shake a toy in front of the infant's face when they started to cry on him. The Siblings of Sin found it hilarious, Twig just found it stressful. Leaving the Cardinal to sleepily look over his charge, Twig moved to the nearby kettle and began the ritual of preparing tea, one of his favourite topside luxuries since his discovery of the cheeseburger.

Once the two cups were prepared, he returned to Antonio, and offered the drink. The man took it gratefully and placed it aside to cool. Twig pressed his mouth together. He hadn’t taken the hint.

“Rest.” Twig said.

Antonio's head shot up at the instruction, a little taken aback but welcoming of a subordinate looking out for him.

“When he’s better.” He sighed, weary and bloodshot eyes scared to leave the child.

“Your brothers.” Twig pressed, but the man declined again.

“Dante, he’s too young to have to look after a child. Valentino too. I cannot place that burden upon them as they are already busy with their studies.”

They weren’t too young, Twig knew this for a fact, but left it nevertheless. The man needed quiet; time away from his ministry duties, and who was Twig to deny him such?

“I should say that they have offered to help, but because of the child's questionable parentage, they are wary of getting so attached.”

There was a pause.

“I think I will remain here, with Giovanni, if you don’t mind.”

The earth ghoul shrugged his indifference, a newfound respect for the man as he skulked back to his desk, crossword waiting for him.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #whump month #ghost bc whump month #panic #chicken pox #family dynamic #?#sort of #Ghoul OC #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #copia #terzo #secondo #primo #imperator (mentioned)

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pluviophiles · 10 months

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klaus: roses are red luther: violets are blue five: i swear to fucking god that i will kill all of you

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #shitpost #tua #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #Klaus hargreeves #incorrect quote #incorrect quotes #the umbrella academy incorrect quotes #Allison hargreeves #Diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #family dynamic

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idolharuko · 1 year

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Imagine if....

SCARAMOUCHE was your brother (SECOND POV USED)

Absolute chaos I would feel

Let's just say you were another 'failed experiment' except Ei didn't finish building you because you got lost

I feel like Ei has a habit of losing stuff so say Kunikuzushi wasn't emotionless, you got lost, and the Shogun was perfect

Perfect family dynamic am I right?

MODERN AU

Modern AU! Kunizushi would be very chaotic still

He would probably be cooped up in his room while Shogun was always studying. Ei would be out with Miko while you were out doing whatever, never coming back til late at night. It's just a very dysfunctional family

If we're talking about ages...

Shogun would be the youngest in 8th grade

You would be the middle child in 10th grade

While Kunikuzushi would be the oldest child in 12th grade

Ei would be the mom, Miko as the second mom or 'fairy godmother', and Mikoto as the aunt who takes care of the family until 'that' happened

#scaramouche #balladeer #platonic family dynamic #family dynamic #platonic x reader #kunikuzushi #raiden shogun #raiden ei #ei #shogun

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 10 months

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Whump Prompt #1173

The team don’t consider A to be a father figure. He’s distant, cold and always mission orientated. They know little of his past, and he appears in no rush to get close to any of them...

However, everyone is shocked to find A sat next to B’s hospital bed.

Reading a book.

Out loud.

As the newly conscious B watches them as though they’d hung the stars.

(C, the one who accidentally walked in, has to bite down on their fist to stop squealing as they exit the room, unnoticed.)

#whump #prompt #vigils #hospitals #father figure #family dynamic #writing #prompts #angst #worry #walking in

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loveandleases · 8 months

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is Chris the golden child of their family? or am i reading things wrong?

Nope, you're reading it right. Chris is very much the golden child, Kara is in second place, and our resident hot head Cam is of course in last <3.

#loveandleases #love and leases #twine wip #if wip #upcoming if #asks #cam #chris #kara #family dynamic

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gelu-the-babosa-multiversal · 1 year

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Regarding Apollo, how you do you imagine his relationship with Aunt Dani and Uncle Kade?

Something like this... ahahahahhahaha sorry...

Dani is #3 best aunt, the title for #2 belongs to Frankie. While Kade has his own unique title "the pizza eater king"...

Dani is very active in her aunt mode, always taking care of Apollo but in her own way, which means that she takes the little kid to fly without the permission of Cody and Priscilla.

While with Kade... he is trying his best while also taking care of his own children, something he sometimes wants to avoid because his children don't like to be in Apollo's company.

#ask #post #thanks for the ask!#part of the multiverse #apollo burns #dani burns #kade burns #transformers #rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #tfrb #rb #tf #family dynamic #aunt #uncle #meme

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pyramis-family-official · 1 year

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(Lightfall spoilers? I'm not sure, putting this as a safety net)

*taps on microphone*

Nezarec putting the Tormentors in charge of Calus to keep an eye on his little brother

#destiny 2 #nezarec #calus #siblings dynamic #nezarec/calus #golden nightmares duo #nyctophobia duo #headcanon #lightfall #tormentors #nez loves his baby brother and wants to make sure he's safe #new headcanon just dropped #pyramis family #disciple quintet #family dynamic

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wibixthecowboy · 1 year

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Play the Song: Part 5: Getting Closer

Warnings/Tags: Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, swearing, weapons, literally only fluff and banter, angst, soft baby girl Ghost, asshole Soap, lighthearted, I can fix him he just needs a hug, warning for an excessively bad taste in music, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, Gaz is just there sometimes, eventual smut, praise, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV

A/N: Heyyy. I know I said she’d be meeting the rest of the guys and that there would be some cute fluff but when I finished the chapter was over 11k so this part will be a bit short but the next one is going to be LONG. :)

Words: 2.6k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

★Ghost

The walk back to the van is strikingly quiet compared to their banter before and Ghost can tell the silence is weighing down on Flash. The worried look she’d given Ghost when she saw the slump of his shoulders was gone but she very clearly hadn’t forgotten about it. Her hands were tightly clenched around the strap of the duffle bag slung over her shoulder and even with the whispers of the students drifting towards them, he never felt her gaze leave him. Ghost was struggling to face forward, knowing nothing good would come of meeting her eyes but still desperately wanting to see the way she so openly cared.

Ghost reaches for her bag when they come up on the van and she hands it over with a small smile, turning to climb into the passenger seat. He has to keep his eyes from wandering across the exposed area of her shoulders. The subtle ripple of her muscles as she pulls herself up by the handle has him opening the side door a little bit harder then necessary.

He rounds the van and climbs in, ignoring Flash’s persistent stare, he turns the key in the ignition and pulls onto the main road, quickly picking up speed without the presence of other vehicles. They make it about five more minutes before she finally blurts out what she’d very obviously been contemplating since his visit with the doctor.

“If its something I said-” She starts but Ghost cuts her off, eager to just have the conversation and move on.

“You’ve done nothing.” Ghost reassures, that you know of. She visibly relaxes against the seat and lets out a light laugh, drumming her fingers against the top of her thighs before speaking again, a nervous tick that Ghost had struggled to get rid of in his younger years.

“I was worried I’d been too much. It happens sometimes.” Her tone is light but Ghost can hear the underlying need for reassurance, he frowns slightly at the implication but gives it to her anyways,

“No, you were just fine.” He does his best to be reassuring but his heart still pounded in his chest and the way the leather of the steering wheel stuck to his clammy palms has his tone coming out more clipped.

“Oh good.” Ghost can hear the relief in her voice and when he turns from his view of the sparse landscape to look at Flash, she’s leaning her head against the head rest and smiling at him. “So you are just old?” He should have seen that one coming.

“I’m not following.” Ghost says, turning away from the teasing curve of her mouth and admonishes himself for wishing she would smile with her teeth and show that precious gap.

She laughs again, louder this time and it rings around the cabin of the van, wiggling between the small space between his ribs to squeeze at his lungs, the sound an aching memory of his childhood. Ghost swallows against the lump in his throat and focuses on the soothing lull of the engine.

“The pain meds?” She says cautiously and he silently curses himself.

“It’s my shoulder.” Ghost says, bringing a hand up to massage the muscle of his left shoulder, thankful for his mask that prevents the need for facial theatrics. When he looks over at her again she’s still laying against the seat but this time she’s raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He feels an undeniable wave of guilt wash over him from the simple lie. When did he become so sensitive?

“Okay Lieutenant.” Flash sighs and turns away to fidget with something in her pocket before pulling out the small iPod she’d shown them yesterday. She doesn’t ask for permission before leaning forward to plug it into the radio, slightly brushing her elbow against his knee, and pressing play. Ghost ignores the fact that if it’d been anyone else the small piece of technology would be out the window and bouncing along the rough cement.

A soft crooning voice fills the cabin of the van and he subconsciously thanks Flash for the distraction. They continue on silently for a few minutes, both relishing in the rare moment of peace. Ghost can feel the taught muscles of his back relax against the canvas seat and for the first time in days he doesn't feel the need to have his hackles raised, that is until Flash speaks again,

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks quietly and he feels trapped, lulled into a false sense of security with the music and her intoxicating softness, and for some reason the sudden urge to tell her everything bubbles to the surface. She would make a good interrogator.

“No.” Ghost says gruffly and locks his eyes on the road ahead, they would be pulling up to the drop off point in about twenty minutes and he should probably be giving her the rundown but he falters at the idea of breaking up whatever they had going, even if it was at his expense.

“Okay.” Flash says in that same quiet voice, so different than her usual air of conviction that Ghost wonders which one is the façade. In the few moments he’s been able to peek under her wall of confidence he’s almost sure its the latter.

“The drop off should be simple, we’ll park the van, walk to the storage house, and give them the keys to unload.” He drums his fingers against the wheel once before continuing, “Stick close and avoid eye contact, this is not the place to be asserting dominance. They’re on a contract but that doesn’t mean they’re trusted. If we just let them do their job it will go smoothly.” When he finishes, the soft mood of the cabin has shifted and the music that was so comforting before has turned ominous. Ghost turns to see Flash pulling on a kevlar vest and his command comes out stronger than anticipated, “Don’t take that off again, not until you’re in the compound.”

“Okay Lieutenant.” She laughs holding both hands in the air once she’s secured the straps, “Any more orders?”

“Cover your shoulders.” Flash’s cheeks flame at the remark and she’s quick to lean across the seat and rummage through her bag for a sleeved shirt.

_____

Despite Flash’s protest, Ghost is quick to silence the radio and roll up the windows when they pull into the small town. He wasn’t going to risk any interference, he wanted this to go as smooth as possible. Few citizens turn to look, recognizing the black government vehicle and minding their business, but the ones that do have Ghost driving one handed, the other griping tightly to the gun he’d hung over his chest.

The breaks of the van squeal when they pull into the dimly lit garage, and Ghost winces at their less than subtle entrance. He turns to look at Flash, her soft features have hardened, aging her about 5 years and he has to admit its impressive.

“You ready?” He asks and Flash gives him a stern nod.

“No eye-contact, stick close, and just let them do their job. Right?” Her voice is solid and her movements are smooth as she unbuckles and places her various weapons into their holsters and straps. Ghost gives her an affirming nod and does the same.

The slamming of the doors echo across the empty garage and they meet at the front of the van before Ghost starts off in the direction of the warehouse, Flash following close behind, rifle now strapped to her chest. He only makes it a few steps towards the exit before he can feel her attaching herself to his heels.

“Not that close Flash.” He admonishes, turning in time to see the sheepish smile on her face.

“Sorry just nervous.” She replies before following him out the door and into the cool air of the evening.

“You don’t look it.”

“I know.” She avoids eye contact, whether its out of embarrassment or an attempt to retain some of her ego he doesn’t know.

Ghost has to keep himself from laughing at the joke, solidifying his grip on the gun in his hands. They walk through a damp, poorly lit, alleyway before reaching another door. Ghost takes a deep breath and opens it. About an inch of his boot makes it in before four guns are trained on them, only dropping slightly when their operators recognize Ghost’s signature mask. The men approach him silently and he drops the keys of the van in one of their hands, not bothering to acknowledge them as he keeps his eyes trained on a man seated on the only piece of furniture in the room.

“Took you long enough.” He say’s, standing to walk towards the two. Ghost had worked with him before. Wildly known for his temper, the lead operator liked things done his way, and if they weren’t he wouldn’t hesitate to let you know you’ve disappointed him.

“We had a few stops to make.” Ghost replies, not bothering to elaborate. The man saunters towards them with an air of authority and Ghost hopes to god Flash keeps her mouth shut.

“You made time to pick up a talonador.” The leader teases and Ghost tenses, fighting the urge to shove Flash back out the door and out of his sight.

“This is lieutenant Flash, she’s here to assist with the drop off. You will use her rank when speaking to her.” Ghost can feel the heat of his anger creeping up his neck but Flash stands solid and unmoving next to him.

The operator raises his hands up in mock surrender,

“No need to get defensive lieutenant, I’m sure she could squash me like a bug.” The look he gives her is sickening and just for a moment Ghost allows himself to imagine lunging across the room and smacking the man’s head off the cold cement ground. The crack would echo in a disgustingly satisfying way. He instead pulls a bundle of paperwork from a pocket of his vest and gives the man a quick rundown of the inventory. Flash watches on attentively.

When they finish, Ghost is quick in opening the metal the door, ushering Flash out of the room. They walk through the gravel alleyway, both taking long strides to reach the garage door, opening it just in time to hear laughs echo through the concrete room.

The cargo boxes are stacked neatly against the wall but the four men still stand in the doorframe of the van passing around a small piece of black fabric. When one of them holds it up, Ghost feels the simmering of his blood boil up over his self control and he grabs the man by his shoulder, roughly pulling him back and ripping the fabric from his hand. Ghost has little time to finish his job before the butt of the mans gun is slamming into his jaw, sending him stumbling back with a spin of his vision. His hearing cuts on impact and he blinks rapidly in an attempt to recover it and his blurred vision. When he does, he sees one man clenching his stomach on the ground, two with their gun trained on Flash, and Flash pinning the man who’d hit Ghost up against the van with the barrel of her rifle. Her chest is rising and falling like a jackrabbits and the look on her face is wild. He quickly steps between the men and Flash,

“Lets just drop the weapons. There’s no need to escalate further.” His voice rough from the pain. The men hesitantly drop their pistols but Flash remains rigid behind him. “I said drop it Flash.” She follows his instructions with a low exhale. Ghost walks to the open bag on the floor of the van and shoves the underwear back in, roughly zipping the bag closed before continuing, “You’ve gotten what you need, were leaving.”

Thankfully, the four men leave without another word, helping their injured friend hobble back to the warehouse. The moment the click of the latch echoes through the garage, Flash is turning on him.

“I am able to handle myself, I had it under control.” She says, brow furrowed and gaze burning hot onto his masked face.

“You had two men on you.” He says flatly and prods at the throbbing of his chin. The fabric of his gloves doesn’t allow much exploration but he can assume the skin has split along the curve of his jawline. Flash’s eyes follow the movement and her expression shifts from anger to worry.

“Jesus let me see.” She’s up on her toes about to pull the edge of the balaclava over his jaw when his hand grabs onto her wrist, his fingers easily encircling it in a vice like grip. Flash freezes, and he can see the flush on her cheeks darken.

“Don’t” His voice is low and stern, overcompensating for the rush of endorphins flooding through his brain at her proximity. The heat from her skin permeates through his gloves and warms his palms, sending a shiver racing down his spine and he’s now hyper aware of how close she’s gotten, one more step and she’d be pressed up against his chest. Flash’s blue eyes shine up at him and Ghost can tell she’s just as taken.

“But you’re hurt.” Flash breathes and her soothing tone has him resisting the urge to rip the mask off and let her run her delicate fingers over the wound. Ghost steels himself at the intrusive thought, the last thing he needed now was a distraction. Dropping her hand, he steps around her and swings the vans side door closed before prying open the drivers side. Flash remains stationary.

“Lets go recruit.” Ghost says gruffly in hopes that the distant title will help draw a line in his mind. She hesitates for a moment, still turned away from him, before her shoulders fall and she’s rounding the van to climb into the passenger seat.

Flash doesn’t respond until they’re exiting the now dark village and bumping along a dusty side road.

“I’m not a recruit.” Her voice is quiet and Ghost has to ignore the dejected tone to keep his resolve. It’s his turn to wait now, taking the time to think out his response. It takes him several minutes of watching the mangled shapes of bare trees and cacti pass through the view of the headlights before he settles on one.

“I know.” He replies softly and suddenly feels the need to tell her that he hadn’t meant it to be demeaning. Ghost thinks back to the party decorations in her dorm and her buzzing excitement on the day they’d picked her up and feels guilt pinch at the back of his mind. Flash had been getting nothing but shit from just being present. He opens his mouth to apologize but a soft snore interrupts him.

Flash’s head is resting against the glass of the window, body slumped into the door. Her pink lips have parted slightly, exhales leaving small patches of fog on the glass, and her face is completely relaxed back into her usual features.

Ghost, not knowing what to do, hovers his hand near the radio before resuming the music. The same soft singing fills the van, and he finds his gaze wandering back to Flash. Eyes tracking the smooth exposed area of her neck up to the gentle curve of her eyelashes. He’s brought back to attention when the road divider vibrates under his tires, embarrassment flooding through him even with Flash being asleep.

He needed to get his shit together.

#Ghost x reader #Ghost x female oc #simon riley #Cod fic #simon ghost riley #Slow burn #family dynamic #Modern warefare 2 #ghost stories #Soap #mw2 headcannons #smut #ghost likes his hair pulled

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