#simon riley x john mactavish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 5 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Four

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Descriptions of past domestic violence, past abuse, past sexual assault, SANE exam. Death scene in relation to reader's job. Stalking. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Trauma. PTSD. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Comfort. Soft dads. Johnny is a shameless flirt.

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday sweet Penny-“

Their baby shrieks at the crest in the song, smile shoving her plump cheeks upwards, little fists banging on her highchair tray. She has no idea what’s going on, Johnny imagines, but he knows she’s excited that everyone is singing to her, looking at her, celebrating her. “happy birthday to you!” She swings a hand forward, plunging into the buttercream icing of the cupcake, fingers digging in as much as she can. Johnny can't help but give her the biggest kiss he can manage while trying to dodge the flying food, and Simon laughs over his shoulder.

“Atta girl.” Simon encourages, trying to peel the wrapper so she can get more in her mouth, icing and cake all over his fingers now too, and Johnny wanders for a second, imagining something certainly not appropriate for their daughter’s first birthday.

“Can’t believe your kid is a year old.” Kyle says from behind him, two beers in his hand. “Feels like yesterday you were even tellin’ us she existed.”

“Time is movin’ too fast.” Johnny agrees, taking a long sip as Simon pulls Pen from the highchair, white and blue icing all over her face, arms, and hands. Kyle is right, it is hard to believe it’s been a year, hard to believe that their baby is already one, growing up right before their eyes, taking her first steps, saying her first words. He knows it won’t be long until she’s really talking, running, riding a bike, going to school… thoughts of the future forming a lump in the back of his throat that sticks like taffy.

Simon steps into his orbit with Penny in his arms, keeping her turned outwards away from his body, half tilted to avoid the sticky smear of icing that’s painted all over her.

“What is it?” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips against Johnny’s cheek, warm breath fanning over his skin.

“Nothin’ ah-“ Penny babbles, head tipped back, gazing at him with wide, pretty eyes, and Johnny rubs a knuckle across her messy cheek. “she’s gettin’ so big. Feel like ‘m missing it, sometimes. Like I should be here.” Simon sighs.

“Johnny-“

“I know, I know.” They made this decision, together. They chose what was best for their family, even though they both knew the distance, the time apart, would sting.

“The option is always there if you want to swap. Though I think we both know you’d lose your head behind a desk.” He nods, but the longing lingers, and Simon reads him right through to his heart, like always. “After this next op, let’s sit down and talk about it. Maybe we can make some adjustments for next year.”

“Ah love ye.”

“I love you too.” He shifts Pen into his side, inclining his head towards her grubby hands. “Can you wash her up?” She reaches for him, trying to latch around his neck, and he rubs her back, cooing into her hair.

“Whit happened to my precious bairn, eh? Where’d she go?” Pen giggles, fingers finding his nose, long strands of his hair with a tug, and he playfully lifts her, mouth against her tummy, blowing loud raspberries over her shirt that has her absolutely screaming with glee.

“Da. Dadadada-“ she babbles at him.

“C’mon wee lamb, let’s go get ye into some clean clothes.”

There’s an envelope shoved under your front door.

The shitty carpet in the hallway is too high, threads jagged, so it sits a little crumpled, half wedged beneath the bottom and the floor.

It’s manilla. Letter sized. Stepping over it to get inside, you immediately notice the lack of postage. Or addressing. Or anything at all, that would signify that it had been delivered by proper authorities.

It’s from him.

You know it is, even though you try to find any other rational reasoning, anything that could explain the mystery behind the envelope and how it got here.

You know. You know it’s probably a letter. Handwritten. Signed in perfect penmanship. You know it’s probably something foul, sick words twisted into terrifying sentences.

You kick it inside and let it sit there for a few minutes. You get changed, get into comfortable clothes, start your kettle. You wrap your sweater tight around your body and lean against your countertop, staring at the offensive tan-beige paper that lays in the middle of the floor.

It’s from him.

He knows where you are.

“That’s impossible.” You answer yourself aloud, fingers curled so tight into your palms that they make little crescent moon shapes in your skin.

Your illusion, delusion, of safety, anonymity, is easily washed away by the appearance of the envelope, and whatever lurks inside it.

It’s too soon.

You didn’t make it.

It’s not a letter inside the envelope at all.

It’s a photo.

A photo of you, taken in harsh hospital lighting, dated over two years ago. It’s taken from the shoulders up, skin bare and exposed, fresh impact bruising around your neck, eye starting to swell, lip crusted with blood.

You remember this photo. You remember the awful experience of the SANE exam, the drive to the hospital that took over two hours because you had to go to another state, just in case.

You hadn’t changed. Hadn’t showered. Your white eyelet blouse, one of your favorites, was splattered red, bright ruby dried a dark wine by the time you pulled into the little county hospital.

You remember the way it felt, to have your clothes put in a bag. To be handled by gloved fingers, with care and attention. The same way you had done for others before that day, and since.

“What’s your name?” your nurse had asked you, so cautiously, so kind. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” She tried to promise, but you knew the truth. There was nowhere you could run, not a single place you could hide, where a shadow wouldn’t find you.

The girl, the woman, in the photo is the same person that looks back at you in the mirror every day, except now she’s buried beneath layers and layers of function, schedule, consistency. She’s silenced by distraction. By work.

By fear.

You flip it over with trembling hands, looking for the note or signature you know will be there. Like a greedy, starved pig; he cannot help himself.

Found you.

Bile rockets up your esophagus and into your mouth. How long will he toy with you this time?

“Hey, you okay?” Nia asks, frowning at you from her locker.

“Yeah, just slept like shit.” You roll your shoulders, emphasizing the half-truth. You really did sleep poorly, fragments of nightmares keeping you suspended in twilight sleep, clips of memories morphed into the snapping. bloodied jaw of a monster who reared their head every time your REM cycle started, and it shows. In your face, your posture, your skin. You look awful, the only thing really holding you together the resolve you have to push through, to get it together, to leave the envelope and its contents behind in your mind. You’re safer inside these walls above anywhere else, that you know is true. Your safety. Your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here. “You know how it is.” You add, and she chuckles.

“Tell me about it. Thought I was going to love overnights, but the sleep schedule is brutal.”

“You get used to it.” You assure her, the two of you making your way down the hall to the pit, and she shrugs.

“If you say so.”

You stand outside of two sixty-eight for too long. People pass you in the hallway, eyes curious, and you pretend to scroll through the tablet, decidedly trying to distract yourself from the dread that’s gathered like a sailor’s knot in the pit of your stomach.

You’re a professional. This behavior is definitely unprofessional. Get yourself together.

You try, filling your lungs with a deep breath, but you can’t shake the shame, the mortification that is curdling in your stomach at the idea of facing Simon and Johnny after the code black situation last week.

“Go sit with Johnny.”

“Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

Will they be angry that you were so rattled? Could they tell?

Your watch alarm beeps, and you uncurl your spine.

Buck up.

You’re both anxious, and relieved, that Johnny is asleep when you finally step inside. Simon sits in his usual spot, paperback book’s spine split in the palm of his hand, and at first… he doesn’t even look up. Not until you clear your throat, and he startles in the chair, eyes snapping up to find yours. “Hi.” He frowns.

“What day is it?”

“Uh, it’s Wednesday?”

“I thought you start your week on Thursdays.” That makes your eyebrows raise, uncontained surprise filtering through you. He knows your schedule? Butterflies thrash in your stomach at the notion, something hot flooding your veins as you blink at him.

“I’m on OT.” You drift towards the other side of the bed, eyeing Johnny’s monitor before lifting the blanket to peek at his elevated leg. “How is he?”

“Uncomfortable. The burn debridement has been… difficult.” You chew on the inside of your cheek. They better not be letting Simon even stand outside and watch that through the window, you think. You’ll have to follow up with whoever is on days.

“Healing burns can be a long and painful process.” You tell him, pulling back the blanket a little further. “I’ll be quick, try to let him get enough sleep as possible.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you.” Simon answers, still watching your every movement, eyes dark and focused above the black cloth mask. The intensity in them catches you off guard when you meet his gaze, hair on the back of your neck standing up straight, and you swallow.

“Well, I’ll still be here in the morning when he wakes so…” you trail off awkwardly, choosing to direct your attention to the scaffolding that’s supporting his femur and hip, checking his sutures for any redness or swelling.

“Do you work a lot of overtime?” Simon asks at the same as he leans forward to brush a stray lock of hair from Johnny’s forehead. The touch is so tender, so gentle, it makes your heart bleed inside your chest, blood warming beneath your skin, captivating your attention until he’s tearing his eyes away from Johnny, and latching onto yours with an expectant expression.

“Oh. Um. Sometimes?”

“Seems like a lot.” He comments, words lazily pulled from his lips, his tone soft, nearly a whisper. “Must make it difficult to spend time with your family, or partner.”

“Oh, I don’t have one of… those.” You immediately refute, pulling up short before the word those, embarrassment making your nose burn. Why are you telling him this? Why are you announcing to a stranger that you’re practically a recluse loner?

Simon’s head tilts, and he looks like he’s about to say something but your tablet chimes, insistent and loud, signaling a vitals issue in another room.

“E-excuse me.” You stumble, and he nods, turning his attention back towards Johnny.

One… two… three… four…One… two… three… four… One… two-

The count in your head is second nature at this point, turning over and over after four as your arms, back and core start to scream, your breaths coming in shorter. Where the fuck is he?

The count continues to roll on, lactic acid building up through your muscles, and you take another deep breath, as much as you can manage. The pain is familiar, it’s necessary, it’s a part of your job, but today, it’s burrowing itself beneath your skull, tugging and tearing at the memories that you’ve buried deep.

Pain. Gnarled and knotted strands of associations pull free from the confines of compartmentalization, stretching out across the front of your mind.

One… two… three… four…

You think about the photo. About being on your back, in a bed like this, lost inside the maze of a panic attack while the NP took photos between your legs. While they swabbed for DNA inside of you, under your fingernails, in your mouth. It’s funny how certain things can stick with you, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling as your bloodied clothes were shoved inside, how you can’t sleep on your back now, the way you counted the ceiling tiles over and over that day. One… two… three… four…

“How long has it been?” Nia asks from the other side of the bed, hand steadily squeezing the bag at the correct rate, still watching the monitor like a hawk.

“At least ten minutes.” You glance at the shade pulled over the window, grateful you remembered when you came running in here, the patient’s family standing just outside the door, holding their breath, hoping you’re in here bringing their beloved granny back, when in reality, you’re just traumatizing her body. You’ve already broken one of her ribs, and you’re worried if you keep going, her sternum will fracture too. It’s not fair. “Where the fuck is he?” you hiss between breaths, anger starting to heat your skin, irritation clear in your tone. This isn’t even your patient. Lazy, slacker, pompous ass, where the fu-

“How long has it been?” The nervous voice just inside the door calls, and your head snaps up.

Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.

“Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds. Where is Marshall?”

“He- he sent me.” You shake your head. Nia sighs.

“Have you pronounced before?”

“Um. No.”

“And where is Marshall?” You ask again, just to clarify, and the resident swallows.

“I uh, don’t know.” Normally, a resident’s first pronouncement would be supervised by their attending. But since this one’s attending is Marshall, a grade A prick that you can’t stand, it looks like he’ll be on his own.

“Great. Okay.” You take a huge breath, trying to flex your wrists without losing your position. “It’s been twelve minutes now, and no response. Do you want to check?” He nods, and you chew on the inside of your cheek when he doesn’t verbally respond. “I need you to say it out loud.”

“You can stop compressions.” You immediately wilt, stepping away from the side of the bed, the motion of Nia’s hand also slowing until it stops, and she slumps. Marshall’s resident physically checks for a pulse, listens for breath sounds and then finally, does a sternum rub, to no avail.

“Sh-should I…” they trail off, looking back down at the elderly woman in the bed. The deceased woman, whose family is waiting, desperately. You nod.

“Yes.” You tell the resident gently. You can tell he’s unsure, nervous even, and for a moment, you’re transported back to your first code, when you were a baby nurse, a terrified, bumbling mess that needed help, just like he does. And since Marshall is a piece of shit… “No pulse?” You ask, and they nod. “No breath sounds? No sound of a heartbeat?”

“None.” They answer you confidently, and you manage an encouraging smile.

“No response to painful stimuli, no reaction to the sternum rub?”

“Right. No.”

“Okay. So normally, you could also use a thumbnail to press into their nailbed, if you feel like you need it, if you’re not comfortable with the sternum rub, but-“

“No, no. I’m. Yeah. Okay.” They too, take a deep breath, and check their watch. “Time of d-death… twenty one forty five.”

“Great job.” You tell him, pulling the blanket back up around her shoulders. “Do you feel comfortable speaking with the family?” He blanches, and Nia’s work phone dings, signaling another patient’s needs. You sigh for the eightieth time tonight. “Okay. Come on, we’ll do it together.”

The supply closet welcomes you with open arms. It hides you in the low light of it’s forgotten space, and when you fall into the chair, your face drops into your palms, pressing so hard into them that you start to see stars. The curtain falls. The walls of your sanctuary start to feel frail.

Found you, found you.

He found you.

Get it together. Get yourself together.

“Hey, there she is. Missed ye.” Johnny coos, eyes half shut, sleepy and sweet.

“Johnny.” Simon rumbles his name like a warning, one your patient doesn’t seem to heed, still blinking slowly at you with a sly look on his face.

“Had a dream about ye, pretty girl. Dreamt ye were at ho-“

“Alright.” Simon cuts him off, swiftly. Patients often have vivid, weird dreams when they’re all dosed up on medication, and it’s not the first time someone has slurred out some weird vision they’ve had of you in their sleep.

“Good morning to you too.” You quip, glancing at the catheter bag before putting your hands on your hips. “How are you feeling?”

“’m alright. Stomach hurts.” You frown.

“Can you tell me where the pain is?” He motions to his upper right, the area where his newly repaired liver is sitting, and you nod, pulling out your phone immediately to update his doctor. Could be nothing. Could be something. Not for you to determine, but you won’t let it go unnoticed, and you’ll make sure it’s top of mind during shift report. “Can I check your side?” You motion to where his burn is lightly wrapped, and he nods with a sheepish smile.

“Aye, sure can. Ye can take my clothes off anytime.” You roll your eyes, unbuttoning his gown at the shoulder, peeling the gauze away very slowly. The wound looks better than you were expecting, if you’re being honest, and it relieves some of the anxiety that curled up in the pit of your stomach after his admission of upper right quadrant pain. “Yer hands are warm, bun. Feels nice.” Bun? You opt to ignore it. Probably still a little floaty.

“Good, that’s… good. Better than them being icicles.” Your hand brushes across the center of his abdomen when you pull the rest of the dressing away, and he tenses, ab muscles becoming clearly defined, enough that you stall out for a second before turning away to grab fresh gauze for his wound care, hands just a little unsteady. “Oh, fuck.” You mutter when the pack slips, sliding halfway under the little table that’s along the wall, and you sigh, whirling away from both of them and bending at the waist to tiptoe your fingers across the floor until you feel the corner of crinkly plastic. “Gotcha!” When you straighten, turning back towards the bed, Johnny and Simon are staring at you, and there’s a glee filled smile on Johnny’s face, it’s presence both mischievous and beguiling, fingers of his good hand slowly rubbing circles into the inside of Simon’s forearm. “What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him.” Simon deadpans, and then shoots his partner a very serious look, one that nearly has you straightening like you’re in trouble.

“Ach.” Johnny huffs, stroking a gentle touch upwards across Simon’s jaw as you start to reapply his dressing, taking your time to ensure everything looks good and he’s comfortable. You smooth over it once you’re satisfied, checking for any precarious pieces of tape. “Ye take such good care o’ me.” Johnny murmurs, accent soft and scratchy. It’s decadent the way his voice sounds sometimes, enough to make your throat dry and the room feel too hot. “Got lucky, didnae we, Si?”

“Well, it’s m-my job.” You answer, trying not to look down at where his chest and stomach are still exposed, or get caught in the cerulean blue waves of his eyes. They’re such a stark contrast to the intense, velvety hue of Simon’s, the pointed focus of his gaze that’s able to stun you, throw you off kilter the same time Johnny’s makes you feel overheated, and lightheaded. Both of them together could drown you. Overwhelm you.

Balanced. A yin and a yang.

Get it together. This is your patient and his partner, for gods sake. What is wrong with you?

Something warms brushes along the skin of your knuckles, a fleeting touch, and when you look down, you see Johnny’s hand, two fingers barely stroking yours, the lightest touch catching your breath in your chest like time is slowing to a crawl, and you’re freezing along with it.

Everything goes quiet in your head.

Simon’s watching you, methodically studying you like he’s trying to decipher every twitch in your expression as Johnny’s fingertips move over your knuckles to the back of your hand, thumb slipping into your palm, blazing heat sparking beneath it.

What… what is happening?

A phone vibrates. The noise snaps you free from your near statuesque state, and they both divert their attention to its screen.

“They’re here.” Simon tells him, glancing at you before looking back to his partner. “Be good.” He warns, and Johnny rolls his eyes in response, but he looks almost… desperate now, eyes wide and anxious.

“Hurry?” he asks, hopefully, Simon leaning down to press mask covered lips to his forehead, his eyes shuttering closed, deep breath passing between their two bodies.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’m really concerned about the pain in his upper right quadrant. I already sent a text, but if his doctor isn’t on this floor in the next hour, page him again.” The dayshifter nods, tapping a note into her phone. “And Marshall’s resident is practically unsupervised, so keep an eye out.”

“Okay, sounds good.” You mention a few other things, details you noticed throughout your day, and she thanks you for the extra eye, sending you off with a parting wave into the cold, crisp morning, your mind already skipping over your commute to when you’ll be able to sink into your bed one last time.

You’re busy compiling a list as you wait for the elevator. Necessities, things you’ll need indefinitely as you bounce back and forth between a rotation of hotels and on-call rooms, all the usual stuff, clothes, toiletries, and all the important things that can’t be left behind, your birth certificate, passport, other things that could make or break you if lost.

Deep breath. You can do this. It’s not the first time. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again.

The elevator dings. You take a step forward, not paying attention, and then pull up short when you see who’s getting out.

It’s Simon stepping towards you, with a baby girl in his arms. She’s situated on his hip, nestled into his side and for a second, you falter because… you recognize her. Or at least you think you do... she looks just like the little girl you saw last week.

“Um. Hi.” You blurt, failing to notice at first that he’s not alone, the man from the first night you met them, the one with the mustache standing behind the width of Simon’s body, his arm curled around the woman you saw last week. They step into view, and you give them all a polite smile, one you really hope doesn’t betray your confusion.

“Hi,” he says your name next, says it so softly it feels tender, and then takes another step closer. “This is Penelope. Our daughter.” Oh. Oh.

They have a baby. A girl. They have a little girl. You don’t know why, but something inside you stumbles, melting into a frazzled, awkward mess, heart thumping in your chest. They have a baby, and Johnny almost died. They have a kid and he’s been trapped in this hospital, miserable in pain, missing his kid. “Pen, this is your Da’s favorite nurse.”

“Bunny.” The baby, Penelope, says, little finger stretching out towards your badge, which is facing outwards with the giant sparkly sticker. Simon chuckles, genuinely, masked lips pressing to her cheek, and you see a glimpse of a father, a protector, a provider. It makes you feel dizzy.

“We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, and you nod like a robot, unable to really form a word with your tongue. “Alright baby girl. Let’s go see your Da, yeah?”

#simple math #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #female reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader x soap

1K notes · View notes

chamomiletealeaf · 6 months

Text

Calling Ghost “honey” because it’s the color of his eyes

I’m screaming and crying and scratching at the door of my dungeon so the guards can let me out

Bonus if you call him “honey” over comms and he gets irritated and blushes like “that’s not my callsign….”

Then Johnny starts teasing him about it later and Simon never lives it down

I love him so bad your honor

2K notes · View notes

ethereal-night-fairy · 4 months

Text

Mistletoe Kisses

Poly!141 x GN reader

It's Christmas day and the boys are acting even weirder than usual. And coincidentally all the mistletoe you placed has been moved. Your in for an eventful day.

This is part 3 of this drabble part 2 is here. Sleepy - pre poly ask

Words: 3.6k

Masterlist

Warnings: Kissing, suggestive language, flirting, pining, stealing kisses, slight hint of BDSM. Sorry if I missed any

You wake up at 5:30am a little later than usual since it was everyone's day off. You dress in your gym gear, ready to get some cardio and weights in for the day. You'll have so many calories to burn after the Christmas dinner your going to have.

You walk into the gym to find it empty. No surprise there. It was Christmas who wanted to exercise on Christmas. Majority of people were probably in the common room opening and exchanging presents. Or calling their loved ones. Saying sweet words to spouses and children. You might do the same, give a few friends a call later on to wish them well.

You settle in your usual gym spot and begin your stretching routine. You only get about halfway through when you hear the gym door bang and clatter like it was being pushed and pulled with aggression. You watch through the glass door as Gaz and Soap fight each to get through first. You laugh at the absurdity as you call out to them.

“Didn't know the gym was in such high demand on Christmas day!”, you laugh at them, finally squeezing through together. What you failed to notice was that Price and Ghost had used the other entrance to sneak up behind you as you laughed. It was too late by the time you noticed.

“Not the gym luvie, just you”, you felt a shiver run down your spine as a hand snaked its way around your waist preventing you from escaping. You twist your body to find Ghost right behind you with his arm on your hips now. It's when you look up that you notice the mistletoe right above your workout place. The dots click in your head but not soon enough. You feel the kiss on your forehead before you can move away. The second kiss comes from Price on your cheek as you move away from the mistletoe a second later.

“You sneaky bastards”, you laugh with mirth. They finally caught you. You look up again at the mistletoe a few feet away as Gaz and Soap approach clearly vexed by the situation. Price gives them both a smug look as he goes about getting ready for his workout. Ghost was already on the weights.

“That's so unfair!”, Gaz exclaims.

“You think it's unfair, it was my idea to put the mistletoe there”, Soap grumbles as they all go to their respective places.

“You guys are so silly, all this effort for a kiss?”, you look at the high ceiling where the mistletoe was taped. It must have taken a while to figure out how to get up there. You shake your head as you get back to your work out. If you think this was a one time occurrence you were sorely mistaken.

You enter the mess hall to find it full and go over to your usual sitting place once you had gotten your plate of food waiting for the guys to show up after their showers. You watch them enter and Gaz immediately makes a beeline for you with Soap closely behind. Your confused until you look above your head to find a string and mistletoe hanging about a metre above. You quickly try to change seats but Gaz was right in front of you when you stood up. He gives you his best disarming full canine smile before placing a kiss on your nose and hauling you in his arms away from the mistletoe so Soap couldn't get a kiss. Causing him to curse in frustration.

“What's gotten into you all..”, you eye them suspiciously. “You guys have another bet going on don't you?.....you do, don't you?”, you give Soap a questioning look as he looks away sheepishly. Gaz puts you down not before snuggling into the side of your neck saying he'll be back in a sec. You watch them both leave to get in line for breakfast, not answering your question. You pick another seat away from the mistletoe as you watch Price and Ghost approach with their plates. You all eat normally as if the events of the morning hadn't happened. You really were going to let it all slide since you thought this was the end of it but that was far from the truth. You'd find that out soon later.

Though today was everyone's day off, you still preferred being organized. You did dip into the common room to wish everyone a Happy Christmas before going about doing little tasks. You spent the rest of the morning being preyed upon by your teammates. Whether you were going into the Price office to collect something or grabbing something from your locker you were always met with someone stealing kisses from you. You had gotten too comfortable with the placement of the mistletoe that you hadn't realised they had moved them. You've lost count with how many kisses they've stolen from you. Except for Soap that is. He was always interrupted in his early attempts with the others sabotaging his chances. And by then you had caught on to their little game and started surveying your surroundings. A cute little game of cat and mouse. The only fragment of peace you got was when you went into your room to call a few friends or went into the bathroom. But you couldn't hide there all day; you had things to do. Your friends laughed at your predicament and told you ridiculous theories they had about your teammates. You ended up laughing off their jokes. There's no way….right? Right? Why would they be interested in you?

You shake your head as you grab the festive apron you had just bought not long ago. It was mid day and Price had said he'll help you with the dinner prep. You still needed to make dessert as well so you scurried off to the kitchen while keeping an eye out for mistletoe. You arrived to find the kitchen empty. The dinner for the rest of the troops was going to be delivered by a restaurant this year around. But you wanted to do something special for your boys. You walk to the fridge while trying to put your apron on. As you're doing so, you feel warm calloused hands engulf your own taking the ties of your apron from you. You let go startled, feeling a very familiar beard brush up against the shell of your ear.

“Captain..?”, you let out breathlessly.

“Aren't you a pretty little thing working so hard to make your boys dinner.” His hot breath fans the side of your face causing goosebumps to raise on the skin of your neck as he ties your apron behind you with careful and precise movements. His touch leaving behind a burning trail of heat. Air gets stuck in your throat as you go to turn around. You're trapped between the counter and Price's toned body. His eyes look hungry and it doesn't seem like the hunger is for food. His blue orbs roam your body up and down as you stand there frozen. You watch his hand reach up above your head to open the cabinet behind you. As he does so your eyes look up to find mistletoe taped to the inside of the wood. Directly above your head. How convenient. You let out a laugh. You wondered why they were trying so hard to win this bet you knew nothing about.

You brace yourself for another kiss to the forehead or possibly a cheek or even your nose. But he has a mischievous glint in his eyes as his gaze dips down to your lips making your heart pound knocking against your ribcage. It felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at this rate. His eyes flicker to your eyes before dipping back down to your lips. He's never looked at you with so much want and desire before. You don't know where to run or hide but it felt like he was stripping you with his gaze alone. Ever so slowly you watch him lean down to bring his lips closer as if he wasn't sure if you'd allow his advances. When he doesn't get a rejection response from you his mouth comes closer as you stand there questioning every lingering touch and flirty joke you've been on the receiving end of.

Your eyes flutter shut as his nose brushes against yours. His warm minty breath fanning your face. You hold the air within your lungs awaiting the prickle of his beard and the soft touch of his tender lips….

“Oi!!”, your eyes fly open your head immediately turning to the door of the kitchen like you've been caught red handed. Even though it wasn't you that did anything.

You find Soap standing in the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“The rules were no kissing on the lips Captain”, Soap walks in clearly annoyed. As the captain grumbles something you take the chance to slip past Price to go towards the fridge again fanning your face.

OMG YOU WERE ABOUT TO LET YOUR CAPTAIN…YOUR CAPTAIN KISS YOU ON THE LIPS. There must be something seriously wrong with you. You don't engage with the bickering that was happening as you got the meat out to sear. Trying desperately to get that almost kiss out of your mind.

You don't get that luxury though as Ghost and Gaz walk in to find their captain and sergeant getting into a heated argument. Which ended with Johnny snitching on Price. Both Simon and Kyle started arguing too, saying ‘its against the rules’ and ‘its unfair to everyone else who's waiting’. You had no idea what they were going on about and you didn't have the mental capacity to try to figure it out. You just wanted to cook dinner in peace.

“Can you all please go argue somewhere else, I have dinner to make”, you raise your voice to get their attention. They all look down to floor or somewhere on the walls acting like they were schoolboys being scolded by a teacher.

“Sorry luv…didn't come all the way here to disturb you.” Simon is the first to move to take the ingredients off your hands as he sets them on the counter. He gets you settled on a stool beside the counter telling you to rest, that they'll take care of the dinner from here.

“What am I supposed to do then?” You watch as they put aside their feelings and get working together to prep whatever is needed for dinner.

“Just relax you've already done so much”, Gaz pats your head as he passes you by to gather something from the pantry.

“If ye really want tae do somethin’ ye can help me decorate these Christmas cookies”, Soap brings out a tray cookies from their hiding spot. You wonder when he made them considering how busy everyone was yesterday. He grabs a cookie decorating kit from a cupboard dropping the icing tubs on the large counter opposite to the stove where Simon is searing the roast. Soap gently grabs your stool pulling your weight with ease to his side.

The cookies are slightly burnt and lopsided but you could tell Soap had tried his best. You begin piping the icing on the odd shapes while sneakily eating bits that break off with Soap swatting at you from time to time. It was a nice atmosphere where everyone worked together. You catch your eyes drifting to your captain every time he brushes past you. Watching him roll up his sleeves had your mouth going dry. He definitely caught you ogling because he had a smug look on his face every time you two made eye contact. You could tell the others weren't happy about your reaction to Price after he had almost kissed you on the lips. By the looks of it. Price may be winning the bet they had created. Surprisingly no one tried sneaking a kiss from you again.

The next few hours go by without a hitch and by the evening the table was set and you all were enjoying dinner. You crack Christmas crackers between eachother. You laugh as Gaz grabs all the paper hats refusing to share any with Soap. You watch as he struggles to keep them all on his head while eating his dinner. And Price sneaking a few off when he wasn't looking. You didn't end up winning any of the little prizes but Ghost gifts you all the items he wins placing them in a pile beside your dinner plate. It was very lovely dinner. It had your heart feeling all warm and fuzzy. Like you had a family here away from home.

You could see Soap grumbling toward the end when everyone was having dessert. He still hadn't got a kiss from you yet and you could tell it was bothering him. So as you all make your way to Price's office to open presents and have a glass of some well deserved expensive alcohol you keep your eyes peeled for some mistletoe. For different reasons this time.

You spot one hidden in the corner of the hallway, not thinking you slow down your steps to match Soap as everyone walks ahead. He gives you a questioning look as you stop and so does he. You gently push him towards the corner. He's so confused you end up laughing at his odd expressions. He goes to open his mouth but before he could say anything you place the first kiss on his forehead, the next on his two cheeks, then his nose. By this point everyone else has turned to face you two. You place another kiss on his nose. As he gives you his broadest smile. You watch Soap fistbump the air, as you laugh at his reaction to you kissing him.

“One more for the win, please! One more for the win!”, he practically begs you. You think about it for a moment as you eye everyone else. You see the playful jealousy in their eyes. Gaz and Ghost make a run for it to get you away from the mistletoe to stop Soap from winning the bet between them.

“Don’t!”, Both Gaz and Ghost shout at you. But it's too late. Your lips are already grazing Soaps' jawline with a smile on your face.

“Fuck yeah!! That means I win the bet!”, Soap practically crushes you in a hug as he hauls you away from the mistletoe so neither Gaz or Ghost could steal a final kiss from you. He places you beside the captain as he runs away from Gaz and Ghost who are chasing him to the office.

Your laughter is cut short as you feel very familiar lips on your ear.

“Such a naughty sergeant, you'll be punished for taking my win away from me”, you gasp as Price growls low in your ear. You don't get much time to think because as quick as he came he also left you standing there as he followed the boys.

Every nerve endings was set alight as you entered the office to find things relatively calm. Apart from Soap brandishing a very triumphant look and boasting about his win.

Your eyes meet Prices, he has such a devilish smirk on his face. Like he's about to pounce on you any second now. He probably would have if he wasn't interrupted in the kitchen. You turn away immediately not being able to hold his heated gaze. Preferring to look at the decorated office instead. Price sat on his plush chair as everyone else found a place to settle in his office. You decide to walk over to where Gaz is seated to squeeze in beside him. He places an arm around you immediately bringing you closer to his side complaining as to why you had to go make Soap win. Ghost goes around handing everyone their respective gifts. Before settling beside Soap.

You watch everyone open their gifts with excitement. There were thank you and kisses exchanged between them. You're a little more aware than usual. A little more alert after Price's last comment. You still couldn't get that almost kiss out of your head. You watch as they hug and kiss each. It didn't seem so friendly to you anymore. It didn't seem like friends having a laugh. They were like kisses exchanged between lovers. You watch them more closely as everything clicks into place.

They were…. together…like… all four of them. They were in a relationship. But now that had you questioning every encounter with the four men. On when and how they would flirt with you. How their hands always found themselves on your body somehow. How they would find any excuse to get rid of people hitting on you. Were they flirty like that with everyone? No…you knew they weren't. So why you?

Your brought out of you deep thoughts as Gaz crushes you with a embrace so tight you think he might be trying to crack your bones but he lets go just as quickly to get up and remove his shirt. You look at him shocked only to realise he was putting on the jumper you had made him. You cringe at your awful knitting but Gaz doesn't seem to notice at all. Showing it off to everyone in the room that you had gifted him a handmade jumper. You glance around the room to see slight jealousy at the handmade gift but that's quickly replaced by thank you as they open their own presents. Soap particularly happy with his Scottish flag scotch glass.

You don't realise until everyone is looking at you that you haven't open the nicely wrapped box sitting in your lap. You make eye contact with Price to find his eyes to have softened compared to before. You work your hand on the wrapping paper making sure to open it with care. The small black leather box sits in your palm. You glance at them one last time before opening the box to find a ring…well not a ring exactly…it was on a necklace so a pendant. You smile thanking them for their gift as you remove the chain from the box…

Price gives Soap a knowing look. As Gaz hugs Ghost's shoulders from behind his chair. You're about to put the necklace on but Soaps hand stops you midway placing the necklace back in its box. You look at him confused before silently asking for an explanation for his actions as he kneels before you.

“Since ah won the bet, the honour was given tae me tae ask ye this question. Would...ye consider…being ours?”, he looks at you with so much adoration.

“Being yours…?”, you look at all of them and they all held the same look in their eyes. “But you have each other…you don't need…you shouldn't..want…me”, you watch his face fall slightly at your words before recovering.

“But I do…we all do…we can't help thinking about ye when ye're away. Can't help getting jealous when someone flirts with ye. Can't help want tae be close tae ye all the time…We can take things slow…”, he looks at you for your reaction. But you're deep in thought fidgeting with the ring on the chain.

“It doesn't have tae be all at once. Ye can get used tae the idea”, he looks at you hopefully as you glance at everyone else. Your eyes lock on Price who also looks at you longingly.

“So I'll be…dating? All of you?”, you watch them all nod in eagerness. “And you're all dating each other too..??”, they all nod again confirming their relationship status. You watch them hold their breaths as you decide on your answer.

“That explains all the touchiness”, you laugh as you play with the ring on the chain. On closer inspection you see engravings on the inner band. You bring it closer to your eyes to see the initials of the four men neatly engraved on the inside. It made your heart melt. They seemed serious in wanting to be with you. It explains all the flirting and tender touches. Soap watches you carefully, still kneeling at your feet waiting for an answer.

“It's a bit overwhelming….to be with four men... all at once…but I-I....really like you all…I'd like to see..where this goes…”, you feel heat rise to your neck and cheeks when the words leave your mouth.

Not a second later Soap has you in his arms peppering your lips and face in small kisses and thank yous. Gaz and Ghost come up to you immediately as well taking the chance to hold you close to their chests. You return their warm embraces with eagerness of your own. Ghost helps you place the necklace around your neck as they all take chances to kiss you gently trying their best not to overwhelm you as you laugh from joy.

Price stays in his chair watching everything unfold. He has adoration written all over his face but there's also the underlying lust and desire you felt in the kitchen and then again in the hallway.

“Well now that's settled…come here love. Over my knee…A naughty sergeant like you needs to be punished for taking sides.”

951 notes · View notes

bottledwhiskey · 1 year

Text

They’re rotting my mind

4K notes · View notes

luminousbeings-crudematter · 6 months

Text

You teach Ghost a new skill

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader

WARNINGS: smut || 18+ only MDNI ||

A/N: ...it's so horny...

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

____

It’s been a long evening, and you’re tired. Wrung out.

And so your first instinct (governed solely by delirious tiredness at this point) is to laugh at Ghost’s words. Not because they’re funny, but because they’re—quite literally—unbelievable. You look from him to Johnny, and then back to him, before your smile falters and falls entirely. Oh fuck, he’s serious.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never eaten pussy.”

“No.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter. “Lt…I’m finding that very hard to believe.”

“Believe what y’want, Sergeant.”

Usually, Johnny would intervene, ever the peace-maker between the two of you. But not tonight. Tonight he just watches the two of you, his baby blues brighter and wider than usual as they swing between the two of you as though he’s watching a tennis match.

“So…what? You want to try?”

“Mm.”

“You want me to…show you what I like. While you’re going down on me.”

Ghost looks at you like you’re an idiot, which, in his defence, is how he looks at everyone.

You’re not entirely sure what to do, so you look to Johnny for help. What the fuck, you mouth at him, and only when you hear a rumble from Ghost do you turn back to him.

“Okay…yeah. Fine. Okay, fine.” You giggle nervously. “Can Johnny show you? He knows what I like.” When you glance over at Johnny, he’s helpful as ever—nodding sagely at your words.

He does know what you like, after all.

Ghost only crosses his arms over his chest, and the whole thing makes him look bigger. More intimidating. He takes up more room like this, and you may have even called it posturing, except you know that it isn’t. There is neither the need nor the expectation of posturing between the three of you.

“Take your clothes off,” Ghost orders, and you scramble to obey immediately. (Hours in the future from this moment, you’ll think about how they’re the last coherent words he says for a while. What a man your mighty Lieutenant is, commendable in the absolute dedication and discipline he shows in learning a new craft.)

You watch them as they watch you strip. You take your time with it—too awkward to make it sexy for them, but enjoying how their eyes greedily linger on the skin your fingertips brush. They make you feel sexy with just their eyes on you, and at one point, you watch with a sly smile on your face as Johnny touches himself through his trousers. Just the one hard tug, and his resultant raspy exhale has white-hot arousal coursing through your veins.

They don’t undress, they don’t even move from their positions, really, and you suppose there are worse things than being the main course for the evening. When you’re finally bare, Johnny seems to lurch out of his trance and reaches out to you, gently pulling you by your hand into the bed. And finally, finally, when Johnny kisses you, you can relax into the whole thing. A contradiction to be sure, but you’ve never felt as relaxed as you do when you pull away from him, gasping for air.

Ghost is at your back, mask off, warm breath at the nape of your neck. “Don’t stop on my account, Sergeants.”

It’s hardly a big ask, and you go back eagerly for seconds, latch on to Johnny’s lips while his hands roam the sides of your body. There’s a comfort in the familiarity of his touch, and you’re left wondering when you’ll have that with both of them.

So it does come as quite a surprise when (in almost a physical manifestation of your inner thoughts) you feel Ghost’s arms reach out and tug your own behind your back. You think nothing of it, though, too mesmerised by being the world’s luckiest girl in that moment—trapped in between two men, one making love to your mouth, the other determined to make you flood your panties by just kissing the back of your neck.

You only barely register Ghost’s movements behind you, hands on your shoulders tugging you backwards into him with care until you’re lying on your back. The ease with which Johnny moves with you, using his elbows to support his body weight above you, makes you feel like they’ve planned something for you.

But you know that’s not true. You know that you can’t plan a calamity.

Johnny’s attention moves from your lips to your cheeks to your jaw, while you’ve got your head in Ghost’s lap, who runs eager, gentle hands over your breasts, your belly, your arms—and you can’t help but sigh with how languid and loose you feel right now. And, almost as if in response, the lizard part of your hind-brain whispers to you about how nice and safe and warm it feels between the two men, being taken care of by them, being spoiled by them.

They don’t seem in any particular hurry, and so when you cheekily guide Ghost’s hand towards your pussy and he resists, you don’t think anything of it. But of course, it makes Johnny look up at Ghost and freeze and all the action stops and you want to whine, protest, make your displeasure known in some way, but you don’t get the opportunity. Ghost shifts, cradling your head before putting it gently down on the bed, leaning closer and closer and oh.

Kissing Ghost is so different from kissing Johnny. When Johnny kisses you, it feels like your spine melts, and you’re left a puddle under eager, enthusiastic fingers. But Ghost is not Johnny.

No, kissing Ghost makes you feel like you’re a bee trying to hold your own against a hurricane. Try as hard as you want, but the hurricane doesn’t care. The hurricane barrels through, stopped by nothing and no one, not swayed in the slightest by your courage or endeared to your foolishness.

Except Ghost isn’t just a hurricane.

He’s your superior officer, he’s a man you work with, a man you work for, a man you trust in more ways than one, a man who's got both your arms pinned above you. He coaxes you to let him explore your mouth, urges you to open up to him, and god do you let him.

So engrossed are you that you don’t even notice the distinct sound of the locking zip ties on your wrists until your body jerks up, and you find that your arms have been bound above your head. “Ghost! Wh—”

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I’ve got ya, yer’alright, pet. Hush.”

You hush. When your eyes meet Johnny’s, he’s looking at you with the same steady gaze he gives you in the middle of the battlefield, a look that says it’s alright and you’ve got this and I won’t let anything happen to you. So you relax and when Johnny climbs back up your body to kiss you again, you let your kiss sum up your trust in him. He squeezes your right hip, something he’s done a thousand times before you remind you that you’re safe with him, and the final vestiges of apprehension drain out of you.

“Sitrep?” Johnny murmurs, and it makes you smile against his mouth.

“Living,” you answer immediately, and it makes Ghost exhale roughly.

But you know why, you think. You can step outside of your body for a second, see what Ghost sees. Your naked body in bed—in his bed—Johnny hovering over you, his clothed cock right over your pussy that throbs from the lack of attention.

You break your kiss with Johnny and he turns to look at your Lieutenant. “You ready for your lesson, Lt?”

It always jars you, how quickly Ghost moves. He’s surprisingly agile, even with how big he is, especially with how big he is, but he’s kneeling on the floor in a second, hands running over your calves, the back of your thighs and finally coming to a rest on your hips. The whole time, though, his eyes haven’t left your pussy, and it makes you squirm. You feel too warm just from his attention, and neither of them have even touched you between your legs yet.

“Now the first lesson is…” Soap uses his middle finger to touch your slit, and then immediately drops it, slides it over your completely, unbearably, slick, hot, neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” Ghost spits and Johnny hums in approval. You’re pretty sure you’re about to snap your jaw off its hinges from how tight you’ve got it clutched it shut. “You hafta see how the bonnie lass is doin,’ alrate? Check if you’ve been kissin’ her all nice and sweet, just how she likes it.”

Johnny continues to touch you, but warm fingers, bigger, rougher, more calloused, find your clit. Ghost touches your clit in small, slow circles, and fuck. You’re bucking your hips into it slightly because you can’t help yourself. You close your eyes and squeeze them shut, because god, you can all hear how obscenely wet you are right now. “See now how wet our lass is jus’ from hearin’ us talking about eatin’ that cunt? That’s what you want, Lt,” Johnny instructs.

It makes you gasp raggedly, feeling like you’ve run a marathon but no. All you’ve done is lay there, while they masturbate you with just two fingers but every coherent thought has already left your brain and you’re left wondering if you really will lose your mind and have a heart attack by the end of the night.

“Now here’s a little tip, Ghost,” Johnny says hoarsely, and brings his finger still shiny-wet with your slick up to Ghost’s face. There’s no hesitation as Ghost wraps his mouth around Johnny’s finger effortlessly. You’re breathing hard with your mouth slightly open in apprehension, because if they say anything to you right now, you will literally pass out. Johnny’s face lights up at the lack of thought Ghost seems to give in making out with Johnny’s finger, and he pushes in closer and closer to Ghost until they’re the ones kissing.

And god. You see the hint of tongues and they look so damn lost in each other, but they don’t stop touching you. But goddammit you want their attention on you tonight. You whine a little, squirm and pull against the zip ties that bind your wrists to the bedpost, but Ghost’s warm, steady hand on your thigh stops you. Be good, it seems to say. Be good and endure. So you do.

When they break apart, Ghost’s quick smirk at you feels like your reward.

“You…you can put your finger inside me, Ghost. It’s—I’d really like that,” you say meekly. You have not once in your life been meek with Ghost and Johnny chuckles slowly.

“Ach, I’m givin’ the instructions tonight, love. Here,” he says, motioning so Ghostcan replace Johnny’s fingers on your slit with his own. “Go on, then, Lt.” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “It’s where she’s the warmest…wettest too. And she’d like it,” he adds, only slightly mocking you, and you laugh breathily.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost croaks, and a tremor runs down your spine when he follows Johnny’s instructions. It’s like your pussy hears him, floods his fingers, throbs a hot, wicked rhythm against them. “Y’might be right, Johnny.” Ghost diligently avoids our clit, running a curious finger over the length of your cunt, then feeling out the tight muscle there, pushing in slowly, slowly. Gently enough to open you up on his finger.

“Good fuckin’ god, ain’t that a sight,” Johnny breathes, and you clench your fingers in a fist because you need something, anything to relieve the pressure you feel right now. It hasn’t even been that long that Johnny fucked you, a few days, maybe, but the way you open up around Ghost’s finger, you’d have thought it was weeks.

After all the build up that felt like torture, your eyes roll back into your head as you feel Ghost move his finger in and out of you, then feeling brave and adding a second. His movements are precise, a military man through and through, and his eyes never once move from your cunt. He watches the movement of his own fingers, the muscles in his bicep jumping from how controlled his movements are, and when he pulls them out and brushes them over Johnny’s lips, you can see that they’re absolutely drenched.

But fuck, they don’t even give you a moment, because Johnny has his eyes closed, allows Ghost to sink his fingers in his mouth so deep, and he kind of…slumps a bit. Relaxes into it entirely. His face goes soft and his shoulders drop and Ghost watches him with keen, sharp eyes. You’re almost convinced they’ve forgotten you’re in the room. Almost, because, almost in perfect sync, their attention turns back to you. They’re so in tune with each other, it’s ridiculous. “Boys,” you gasp. “Rude to keep a girl waiting, you know.”

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost insists, and pushes his fingers into your mouth instead. You should bite him for the audacity, but the lingering taste of your own pussy has you weak, and you suck his fingers automatically. “Be nice, pet. Or class ends here, yeah? You can be an outstanding student, while Johnny sucks my cock.” His words expose the temporary nature of your bravado, and it rushes out of you, making your spine meet the bed again. You hadn’t even realised how far you’d been arching off of it.

Johnny soothes you, though, shushing you, gentle murmurs of encouragement leaving his mouth effortlessly as two, thick fingers find their way inside you and keep you plugged. He only turns to Ghost when you’re a gasping, moaning mess. “Think you can guess wha’ comes next, Lt?”

Ghost adjusts so his face is right in front of your cunt and Johnny leans down to whisper in his ear. “...like you’re parched, and the lass offers the last drink on Earth, ye?”

Johnny continues the rocking motion of his fingers inside you while Ghost brings his mouth closer to your cunt, and just breathes there. Even that feels like too much stimulation and when Johnny uses that exact moment to curl his fingers into you in a come hither motion, your whine is loud and drawn out, eyes squeezed shut so tight, you feel a few errant tears leak out the sides.

When Ghost’s tongue makes contact with you, he doesn’t immediately latch on to your clit like you’d expected, or hoped. No, he uses his tongue to gently savour your wetness, and considering how much of it there is, you’re sure you’re feeding him mouthfuls of it, just from how close you are to coming. He finally pulls you out of your misery, though, when his tongue makes the journey to your clit, and when your hips rock upwards, he groans and rises up to chase it. The tip of his tongue swirls around your clit and down to your pussy, where Johnny’s fingers slide out slowly, so Ghost can suck them clean before they go back inside you and Ghost repeats the whole thing.

You’re only pulled out of the moment for a split second, when you notice Soap’s hand covering the nape of Ghost’s neck, holding him there against your pussy, and how Ghost lets him. It only catches your attention because of how submissive it is, how trusting, but you immediately forget why it even matters when his velvet tongue catches on your clit.

You can hardly believe what’s happening to you right now. Ghost is adjusting himself enough so your knees go effortlessly over his shoulder and you’re ludicrously exposed to him right now. The same Ghost who exercises restraint in every aspect of his life, is mean and sometimes a bully and strict and fucking scary, has got his nose grinding against your clit right now, while his tongue gathers your arousal from your slit, swallows it and goes back for more.

You feel that deep, familiar swell in the pit of your belly, and your eyes pop open in panic, because your hands are tied and you can’t even grind into Ghost’s face without any leverage, but then Johnny adds a third finger into you while Ghost sucks on your clit with persistence, and you find that you don’t need that leverage after all. You can grind into his face just fine. You turn away and bite your lip hard, but Ghost’s hand shoots up and curls around your jaw, twisting it until you’re facing them again.

You moan and Johnny coos at you in response. “Stay wi’ us, baby, stay right here,” he murmurs.

And then, all at once, you’re coming, hard. It’s almost painful, the pressure of it, the way it makes you want to kick and squeal and cry from how it makes your body curl up in on itself, your spine bowing in half. Your cry is anguished and deep and rips its way out of your throat, and you think you hear a satisfied rumble from one of your boys, but you don’t know which one. Your orgasm feels powerful and destructive and you claw at thin air, squirm and move but there’s no getting away from how encompassing it is, how fucking devastating it feels in it’s power.

You may have drenched Johnny’s fingers and Ghost’s face but you couldn’t care less right now. You hear one of them chuckle slowly, and you feel yourself gradually fall back onto the Earth. Ghost has mercifully moved his attention to the insides of your thighs now and Johnny pets your other thigh, and though their touches, any touches feel too much right now, you don’t dare move away from them.

This time, Ghost crawls up your body to kiss you, tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth, finally murmurs against your lips. “Sitrep, Sergeant?”

And you have to smile at that, because this man may hide under layers and layers, but he hides something inside him worth diving into the abyss for. “Living, Lt.” His teeth drag along the skin of your throat as he makes way for Johnny to check in on you.

And oh. Sweet Johnny’s just smiling at you, hands moving to brush back the sweaty hair at the crown of your head. “Alright, love?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, too blissed out to answer. You float on a cloud, until Johnny speaks, the smirk and mischief in his voice making your eyes shoot open in a panic.

“Last lesson of the day, Lt. Gotta clean our girl up.”

#simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost smut #soap smut #lumi writes

1K notes · View notes

alisonwritesimagines · 3 months

Text

You're Losing Me ~Simon Riley Imagine~

Summary: Simon falls in love with Johnny, only to unintentionally hurt you in the process.

Author's Note: This was inspired by @houseofoddballs trauma bond fic they made which got me listening to sad, angsty songs while writing this at work. Also, please let me know if ya'll want a part two for this.

Reader's Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, like gut wrenching angst, cheating, unexpected pregnancy, slight happy ending for reader in the end in a way

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

He was your Simon. No one else's. You two had met when he was on leave and fell in love. So by definition, he was yours first. It sounds selfish but when you barely get to see him due to him going on missions on months on end, you'd understand why you want to hold onto him as much as you can.

You watched as your Simon walk in together with Soap once again. This was the third time this week where he had claimed he was busy only to be seen with Soap afterwards.

"Sorry I kept him long, bonnie," Johnny apologized again.

"It's okay. Glad you two had fun," you tell him.

You liked Soap. He was a good guy and he understood what your Simon had to go through during their time in the military. There was nothing wrong with him. Until he and your Simon got closer and closer. You noticed it from the way they interacted with each other.

But you would never say anything to them. You loved Simon. He was everything to you. You trusted him. But you began to notice something between the two. It was obvious even if they were trying to hide it. So if keeping your Simon meant that you had to stay silent, so be it.

“I’m going out,” Simon told you exactly at 5pm. You noticed each time he told you he was going out, it was always at 5pm.

“Again? Simon, I was hoping we can have a date night?” You tell him with a small frown. You couldn’t remember the last time you two had gone on a proper date with each other.

“Sorry love. I already got plans. How about I make it up to you tomorrow yeah? Just the two of us and we can do whatever you want,” Simon offers.

“Okay. That’s fine,” you nodded with a small smile.

“Don’t need to wait up on me,” Simon tells you. You nodded once again before he put on his coat to head out.

“I love you, Simon,” you tell him. Simon stared at you a little with a soft smile. But there was something else in that smile.

“I love you too,” Simon tells you before leaving your shared apartment.

Simon felt guilty. Leaving you alone for a night with Soap. He loved you both but he didn’t know if you’d be okay in getting into a relationship with both him and Soap. Had had to think of you first since you were there for him first before Soap.

“You okay, Lt?” Johnny asked. The two sat in the back of a bar at a booth, sitting next to each other.

“I just feel guilty,” Simon tells him.

“About?”

“I feel like I’m lying to Y/n,” Simon tells him.

“Simon-“

“But as much as I want her, I want you too. I need you both.”

“I’m here for you Simon. And you know she loves you too. I don’t want to hurt her either. She’s a good woman and you both need each other in a way,” Johnny said.

Johnny could at least acknowledge that even though he and Simon loved each other, he didn’t want to hurt you. You were kind and caring. Not to mention you were there first before Johnny.

Simon felt guilty, the more he began to drink with Johnny the guilt began to go away a little. The next thing he knew, he’s waking up next to Johnny naked in Johnny’s bed at four in the morning. Now he was more guilty and had dug his grave.

——

The next day, you knew what he did. And Simon knew that you knew. It wasn’t the fact he came home in the early morning or the silence that made him know that you knew. It was the hickeys on his neck that he didn’t hide. He was too busy to get back home to you first to even look at the hickeies Johnny gave him.

You lied in your bed crying as your heart was broken. Simon sat on the other side of the door, listening to your crying. It broke him or hear you cry. He never meant to hurt you but he did. The mental pain was far worse than the physical pain and he knew it.

“Love, can we talk?” Simon you.

“Ghost, leave me alone please,” you tell him. Simon got up the moment you used his code name. He didn’t want you to see him as Ghost. He was your Simon. Your Simon that you love. He wanted you to know that you didn’t loose him. He was here with you and begging for your forgiveness.

“Love. Please. Don’t call me that. Open the door please,” Simon begged as he tried to open the door.

“Ghost, I need a moment. Please. Just go to Soap if you need to,” you tell him, still hurt from what you saw this morning.

Simon’s heart broke from your words. Yes he was in love with Johnny but he didn’t want to run to Johnny whenever you two had a problem. Even before Johnny you two were able to work things out whenever you had a fight. But this was different. You didn’t use his code name in anger like you would do.

You used his code name as if you didn’t recognize him anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here until you’re ready to talk,” Simon tells you before walking to the living room.

You didn’t come out of the room till 9pm. When you walked out, you saw Simon sitting on the couch with red eyes. He looked over at you as you looked worse than he did. He got up before getting on his knees in front of you. You had never seen him this vulnerable before.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. Please,” Simon begged. He couldn’t let you leave him. He needed you. Although, he wasn't sure if he could say the same thing about you needing him.

“What do you want me to say, Ghost?” You asked him.

“Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Simon,” he tells you as he stood up. He held your hands in his before kissing them. Trying to cling onto you as much as he could before you could slip away from his fingers any more than you already had.

“Are you?” You asked him.

“Yes. I’ll do anything to prove it to you,” Simon begged. You stayed quiet before walking to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Let me, love,” Simon said before going into the kitchen to make you something. You lied on the couch until Simon had food ready for you.

It was going well for you both for a month before Simon had to go on a mission. He spent his last couple of days, letting you know how much he loved you in the bed to remind you that he loved you and how much he needed you.

“I love you so much, Y/n,” Simon tells you.

“I love you too, Simon,” you tell him.

——

The moment Simon had told you that he was coming back, you were excited. You had news to tell him that you hoped he would choose you. It was selfish yes but you were human. It was a natural thing. And you hoped that your news would bring you two closer.

But the moment Simon came home, you knew something was wrong. Instead of giving you a kiss that would eventually lead into the bedroom like how he used to do, he kissed your cheek and told you he had to shower.

He had left his phone on his stand while he showered. You weren’t the type to look through his phone but you had to know. You unlocked his phone to see the messages he had sent to Johnny.

Simon 5:00pm: I miss you.

Simon 10:45pm: Can I see you Johnny?

Johnny 10:46pm: Are you sure?

Simon 10:47pm: I need you right now.

Simon 11:34pm: I need you. Can I come over?

Simon 1:05pm: I can pick you up before we head back to base.

Johnny 1:07pm: Sounds good.

Simon 3:08pm: Just got home. I love you.

Johnny 3:10pm: I love you too. Let me know when you want to meet up again.

You noticed the dates and times. They were all while you and Simon were supposedly patching things up before he had to go on a mission. How many times has he snuck off to see Johnny? How many times did he tell you that he loved you that now felt like lies? Were they together intimately when they were on their mission? The last text being more recent with Simon telling Johnny that he loved him hurt the most.

You were a fool. A goddamn beautiful and forgiving fool. But this was the pushing point.

———

The flat felt colder and somehow smaller. Simon noticed all of your little things were gone the moment he came back from the gym. He knew something was wrong. He rushed to the bedroom to find it tidied up but empty.

Your nightstand no longer had your stuff on or in it. Your side of the closet was empty. All his hoodies and shirts that you had taken from him was hung or neatly folded and put away. It was as if you were never here.

Simon noticed a letter on his nightstand making him walk over and sit on his side of the bed. He took the letter in his hand before opening it up.

Simon,

I know you choosing between me and Johnny will be hard on you. So let me make the decision for you, go ahead and choose him. I don’t think I can continue fighting for your love even though I would’ve done anything and everything for you. I love you Simon. But I can’t face anymore emotional neglect and keep waiting for you to return the love I’ve been giving you.

Am I hurt? Yes. Am I surprised you fell for Johnny? No. He can understand you in many ways I would never be able to understand. I just wished I was enough for you.

Please do not contact me or find me. I think it’s best for me to move on and let myself heal. I know it seems selfish but I need this.

Goodbye Simon.

- Y/n

Simon took out his phone and quickly called you. Maybe it wasn’t too late?

“We're sorry you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

His worse fear has come true due to his selfishness. You were gone from his life.

———

Five years have gone since Simon last heard you. He had told Johnny he needed some time before continuing their relationship together the moment you left him. Five years since you left him but not a day had gone by without Simon thinking about you.

Were you doing okay? Were you in a safe place? Have you moved on officially?

It was now his and Johnny ‘s leave and they had to grab some groceries for the week. While Simon had gone to grab a couple of stuff, Johnny made his way to another aisle before feeling someone bump into his legs. Soap looked down at the small child in front of him. His eyes widen as he saw the small boy who looked exactly like Simon minus his hair color.

“Sorry sir,” the little boy said as he backed up.

“You okay lad?” Soap asked him.

“Yes. I’m just trying to get those cookies,” the little boy said as he pointed at the package that was on a shelf higher than him.

“Oh uh. Here,” Soap tells him as he handed him the cookies.

“Thank you!” The little boy smiled before running off to a man who had appeared from the other end of the aisle.

“You ready, Johnny?” Simon asked him as he walked over to him. He put the food he grabbed into the cart before looking at Johnny.

“Get this Lt. I just met a kid who looked exactly like you,” Soap tells him.

“Doubt it,” Simon scoffed unconvinced.

“I swear it!”

Simon shook his head before his eyes landed on someone familiar. His eyes widen, making Johnny look over to see who he was staring at.

You stood at the end of the aisle with the man and the child that Johnny had helped out not too long ago. You were glowing in more ways than one. You looked happier and healthier than the last time the two men saw you.

Not to mention, you were pregnant and had a ring on your finger. Simon couldn’t help but grew jealous and angry. You should’ve been like that with him.

“Simon? Johnny?” You asked confused as you finally saw them. You and your family walked over to the two who stood at the other end of the aisle.

“Hey bonnie. You're looking good,” Johnny said surprised. Simon looked over at the small boy who did look exactly like him.

Simon didn’t know wether to be angry, sad, or disappointed in himself.

“Hi. Thanks. Are you two on leave?” You asked.

“At the moment yes,” Johnny said.

“That’s good. Simon, Johnny, this is my husband Mitch. Mitch, this is Simon and Johnny,” you introduce them. Simon looked at you heartbroken. He had selfishly hoped that one day you would come back to him or at least he would be able to see you and beg for your forgiveness.

“Nice to meet you both,” Mitch smiled as he offered a handshake. Simon and Johnny both shook his hand out of politeness.

“Is this lad yours?” Johnny asked you.

“Yes. This is my son, Levi. Levi, sweetie, these are two of mommy’s old friends. Can you say hi?” You asked him.

“Hi Mr. Johnny. Hi, Mr. Simon,” Levi said.

“How old are you?” Simon asked him. You frowned at his question. There was no doubt that Levi was his. Mitch rubbed your back a little to help calm you down.

“Five,” Levi tells him shyly.

“He’s five?” Simon asked you with sadden eyes. How long were you alone before Mitch came into your life?

“Yes. We need to get going. We’re on vacation here,” you tell him before taking Levi’s hand.

“Bye Johnny. Bye Simon,” you tell the two.

“Wait, Y/n,” Simon said as he quickly held your hand with your wedding ring on it. He let go the moment he felt the ring.

“Can we talk sometime?” Simon asked you.

“Simon-“

“Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry. Come on, Levi,” you tell your son as you lead him to the check out.

Mitch stayed behind before looking over at Simon.

“If you have any questions about Levi, here’s my number. Just message me and I can talk to you,” Mitch told Simon as he handed him a card.

“He’s not yours?” Simon asked for confirmation.

“She’s mentioned you both before and told me what happened. You have the right to know about your son,” Mitch told him before walking away from the two.

“Simon?” Johnny softly said to get his attention.

“Let’s go.” Johnny’s Simon tells him before walking away.

——

It took some convincing from your husband but just before you three left to go back home in America, you met with Simon at a café close to the airport.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Simon smiled a little as you sat across from him.

“Yeah,” you tell him awkwardly.

“How have you been?”

“Better. From what you saw, I got a husband and my kids,” you tell him, placing your hand on your stomach.

“Have you told Levi that he’s my son?”

“No. And I can wait to tell him when he’s older to understand,” you say. Simon nodded, knowing it would be too much for the poor kid to understand.

“I want to apologize to you.”

“Simon-“

“No. I hurt you. I told you that I would never hurt you and I did. I love you, Y/n. And I’m happy you moved on but I really did love you. I’m so sorry and I’m begging for your forgiveness,” Simon tells you.

“Simon, I forgive you. I can accept on who you are but it just hurt when I watched you fall in love with someone else after everything we’ve been through. I stayed here for you. I wanted to be there for you but it felt like I lost you,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay now. I’ve healed and I have a family now who I love,” you tell him.

“You deserve it. You deserve everything good in this world,” Simon tells you. You smiled softly before handing him an address and a phone number.

“That’s our address and my phone number. If you want to visit Levi, you can. He is your son. I’ll let you know when I tell him that your his dad,” you tell him. Simon stared down at the address and phone number before looking at you. You were still beautiful in his eyes and the guilt of letting you slip away began to creep up on him.

“We could’ve had a good family right?”

“Yeah.”

“You were a wonderful experience,” Simon tells you.

“And you were everything,” you tell him before standing up and heading out the door.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley angst #ghost angst #ghoap #simon riley x john mactavish #ghost x soap #call of duty #call of duty imagine #alisonwritesimagines

470 notes · View notes