Tumgik
#ghost x oc x soap
la-petite-lapin · 14 days
Text
Double the Love | Part Nine
Double the Love masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.5k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, swearing, mentions of nudity, mentions of sexually explicit content, OC has anxiety, communication, polyamory, M/M/F
A conversation and a confession
Tumblr media
Simon doesn't say anything for a while. I sit next to him silently, waiting for the words I know are coming. Knowing that they're going to hurt.
I've accepted it. They're probably going to want to move out after this. God - how am I going to explain this to John...
"We thought you needed space today," Simon starts softly, his gentle tone soothing a part of me that I didn't know needed soothing. "We... I've messed up today. I should have shown you more affection. I shouldn't have let you doubt this."
I blink up at him, dazed and bewildered. He's going to have to spell this one out for me.
Like he's reading my mind, he explains, "We really like you, Tali. We didn't want to scare you away after how intense last night was." There's another beat of silence as he glances at Johnny, still fast asleep, and adds, "I think this a conversation that all of us need to be present for."
They like me.
The realisation sets in like a freight train. They really like me.
A giddy feeling somewhere between excitement and confusion creeps in, all but erasing the sadness I felt just moments ago. Simon looks at me, head cocked to one side like he can sense the heavy mix of emotions swirling around inside of me. There's a glimmer in his hazel eyes as he carefully watches my expression.
"Can we... can we wake him up now, please?" I know that it's selfish, but I need to know that this is resolved. I need to know that they both feel the same so that we can move on. So that I can think and plan and mentally prepare myself for what people are going to say.
Oh God.
What are John and Gaz going to think? The people I work with? I'd like to think that I don't really care about the opinions of others, but I do. Deep down, I do. Strangers can be judgemental and mean - especially where poly relationships are concerned. Shit, what about PDA? That's going to draw unwanted attention and...
"Hey, love." Simon gently squeezes my hand with his, scarred fingers surprisingly gentle against my much smaller ones. "Where did ya go?"
I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my throat is, and how my knees are shaking. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
"About this. Us." When he squeezes my hand again, I carry on, shifting closer to him on the sofa until I'm tucked seamlessly against his side. "People are going to judge us."
There's a pause before Simon does something that surprises me. He barks out a laugh. A loud, gruff laugh that startles me for a second, almost making me jump.
I look up at him like he's gone mad, and he looks back at me, eyes twinkling with humour as he smirks. "You really think that's going to be what they focus on, princess? I walk around in public, 6'7, dressed in all black with a bloody mask on. Johnny's hardly a wallflower wither. You really think people will be rushing to judge the sweet, beautiful woman walking around beside them?"
Well, when he put it that way, I supposed they wouldn't.
"I mean, there's always going to be a chance that some people will, but fuck 'em. I've caught enough stares to last me more than a lifetime. 's like water off a duck's back." Some of the amusement leaves his tone, eyes solemn again for a moment as he adds, "But seriously, love, if they don't know us, then why should we bother what they think? It's something Johnny said to me when we first started going out. I used to get so fucking stressed out about people looking at us and whispering shit. Just wanted to rip their heads clean off their shoulders. But it's not our problem - it's theirs."
I nod slowly. It seems to simple when he says it like that. I know it won't be, but it gives me hope. Hope that - one day - I'll be as nonchalant about it as Simon is.
There's a grumbling sound from the other end of the sofa. One that draws both of our attention. "Wha's all this about problems and heads?"
Si and I look across at the same time, meeting a pair of heavy-lidded, confused bright blue eyes.
Tumblr media
"...and so Tali thought we weren't interested, and that we were ignoring her," Si says, rounding off his summary-version of our conversation to a now wide-awake Johnny.
"Right," the Scotsman says, cradling a mug of black coffee like it's his firstborn. "Well, respectfully, tha's a bunch of shite." He turns to me with wide eyes, and I try not to look sheepish. "Ye know that now, right?"
I offer him a small smile. "Right," I repeat.
The three of us are still in the living room - myself tucked back into my armchair, and the two of them sitting on the sofa facing me. There are some important matters that need to be discussed, questions that need to be asked, and ground rules that need to be laid. Things that won't get done if I'm sitting next to either of them. It'd be all too easy to get lost in their eyes, snuggle up to their ridiculously toasty body heat and drag them back into their room for round three.
I need to stay focused for this.
"So, what does this make us?" I ask, hoping that I don't sound as nervous as I feel. I'm surprised that I'm not physically shaking.
Johnny shrugs, glancing from Si back to me again before saying, "Our girlfriend. Partner. Take yer pick," just as Simon says, "Whatever you want us to be."
"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend, if that's okay." When they voice their more than enthusiastic approval, I turn to my next question, a nervous smile forming on my lips. "What will you tell John and Kyle?"
Simon frowns at my obvious hesitance, the movement tugging at the scars around his mouth. "Captain Price we can leave you, if you're more comfortable that way. And Gaz... we can tell him we're together whenever you want. He's pretty open-minded."
I swallow thickly. "They're both coming over at the weekend."
There's a beat of silence before Johnny starts laughing. "Making plans with our friends without us already, lassie? We've only been together for half-an-hour."
My cheeks heat up and I fight the urge to get embarrassed. "John made then plans, not me."
Simon grins. "I think it's cute. It's good that you get along with Gaz; he's a nice lad."
We're getting side-tracked!
I clear my throat, all business once again. "There's something else that I need to tell you."
They both look at me, expressions holding varying degrees of concern and blind acceptance. They're looking at me like I hung the moon.
I know that it probably won't change the way that things are between the three of us, but I'm still nervous. Because - technically - I've been lying to them since we met.
They still don't know that I'm Alex's sister.
"Did Price ever tell you how he and I met?"
The question hangs in the air between us. I watch as it dawns on them: he never did. Regardless the pair stay silent, giving me the space to take a deep breath and continue on.
"We met over a year ago, when he came to inform me that my brother had died."
Simon's face turns a sickly greyish-white hue. "You- you never told me that he was military."
On the other side of the sofa, Johnny's expression darkens. "I didn't even know that ye had a brother." He pauses, eyes locking onto mine as he says, "But... if the Captain came to tell ye, tha' means... he was somethin' to do with our lot."
Si's head starts shaking before I can even get the next part of my confession out, like he knows exactly where this is all about to go. "My name - my full name - is Talia Keller. And my... my brother's name was Alex. Operations Officer Alex Keller."
Johnny lets out something between a groan and a choking noise. My heart is beating in my throat, palms clammy and chest too tight. Simon isn't even looking at me anymore; he's looking at the floor, the walls, the ceiling... anywhere but me.
"I... how? Alex never told us he had a sister." Simon sounds borderline frantic. I try not to let that statement hurt me; try to remind myself that it has no bearing on the love that my brother felt for me. Catching the look on my face, Simon adds a broken, "I didn't mean it like that."
If I didn't know any better, I'd say he wanted me to walk over to him and tell him that it's all a lie. One big, sick joke. That I actually met John through a friend of a friend, or some other totally normal circumstance. Not via a death notification.
"Calm down, Si," Johnny says suddenly, his soft, placating tone cutting through the room. "Calm down and let our lass talk." Blue eyes lock onto mine, offering me endless reassurance. "Carry on, love."
I clear my throat, hands clenching and unclenching into fists at my sides as I will myself not to cry. "Our parents died when we were young, and Alex joined the army when I was still just a kid. He was all I had left after our grandmother passed. And - when he died - John came to the flat to tell me he was gone." I remember the crushing weight of the loneliness I felt in those days that followed, and it brings a weak, bitter smile to my lips. "But he didn't just tell me and go. He left his number and he made an effort to be there when I needed him. He pulled me into his life; kept reaching out even when I was too stubborn to see that I really needed him around."
Johnny frowns, and I can see the unshed tears shining in his eyes. "But... why didn't ye tell us, love?"
I shake my head, my own tears falling freely. "I don't know," I say, honestly meaning it. "I just... I don't know. Maybe I thought it would be easier? So that you wouldn't pity me for it?"
Before Johnny can reply, Simon is standing up - crossing the living room with long, precise strides. He scoops me up from the armchair, cradling me in his big, muscular arms. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck to hide myself away from the world, letting the tears pour out.
"We don't pity you, princess," Simon says, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. I can hear the sofa creaking softly as Johnny stands up. Can feel his fingers brushing through my hair. "Just wish you'd told us sooner, that's all."
I peel myself away from Simon long enough to manage two words before I'm burying my face back into his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, lovie," Johnny coos. "There's nothin' to be sorry about."
Tumblr media
Once we've all calmed down, Simon announces that it's time we all head off to bed. It's gone 11 and not only do I have work tomorrow but they have to nip across to the base for a meeting, so he has a point.
As Johnny and Simon rattle around the apartment, double-checking that they locked the front door when they came in earlier, and making sure all the windows are shut, I start to head off to my room. The room I sleep in alone.
"Um, where do ya think ye're going, lassie?" a voice calls out from the top of the hallway. I turn around to see Johnny standing there, his broad frame practically filling the space as he folds his arms across his massive chest.
I let out a quiet squeak. "Bed?"
Simon appears behind him, resting his chin on top of his boyfriend's - our boyfriend's - head. "Nice try. Get your arse into bed. I'm not in the mood to chase you tonight." With an adorable flash of vulnerability softening his battle-hardened features, he adds, "I want to cuddle."
Melting inside, I backtrack down the hallway and push their door open, hopping into what used to be my bed.
After a few minutes, I doze off, and when I open my eyes again, I'm bracketed on both sides by the warm, muscular bodies of my boyfriends. I try not to giggle like a teenage girl internally, but it does a lot to shake off the remaining sadness lingering from our conversation about Alex.
I roll over, accidentally slamming face-first into Simon's bare chest. Instead of whining about it, he grumbles, "Are you going to sleep like that?"
I blink, pulling away to glance down at myself. After I flopped down onto the mattress, I hadn't thought to take off my clothes. Or find myself anything suitable to sleep in.
"No?"
Simon chuckles indulgently, joined swiftly by Johnny - his rock-hard chest vibrating against my back.
"Jesus, lassie, just sleep naked like us. 's easier," the Scotsman says, drawing my attention to the fact that they are both indeed naked. "Saves us havin' to move wardrobes around."
I ignore him, kicking off my jeans before pulling my shirt off over my head. I lay still for a moment before something occurs to me - another question I forgot to ask earlier. A glaringly obvious one.
"What happens after Johnny's stitches have healed?"
Silence fills the room. It makes me wonder if it's something they've been wondering too.
Johnny speaks first. "Tha' depends, lassie. We'd have to ask Captain Price. An' it depends on ye, and want ye wanna do. But we'll both have to return to active duty."
Before I can ask what that looks like for them, Simon clarifies, "That means we'll be out on assignments more often." I don't think I'm imagining the heavy note of sadness that weighs heavy in his voice as he adds, "Sometimes we'll both be gone for weeks at a time, with no way of getting in touch with you."
As much as I hate it, I've already made my peace with that part. The bit that I don't get is the living situation. When they are here, I'd like to stay with them. I can live in the flat while they're away, but what about when they aren't? It's not fair on Winnie to have all four of us staying here, encroaching on her space. This apartment is just as much her home as it is mine.
"Do you two have a place together?" I ask, more out of curiosity than anything. I highly doubt it, since they ended up here with me in the first place.
Simon shakes his head. "We never saw a need for one. When we're in the country, we stay in the barracks with the other soldiers." A frown forms on his lips and I pull back a little further so I can comfortably cup his jaw. I smooth my thumb along the length of his cheekbone. "But I don't think that's a place that I'm happy with you being in."
I open my mouth to protest but Johnny's hand appears from behind me, swatting the air between us. "Can we talk about this in the mornin'? Some of us would like to sleep."
With a soft giggle, I roll over again and press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, then his forehead, and the cheek not pressed against the pillow. I settle my head into the gap underneath his chin, feeling the comfortable weight of Simon's arm come to drape over my waist and onto Johnny's. I can hear the sound of them kissing goodnight over my head, and it warms my heart even more than I thought I would.
Sandwiched between the two of them, I doze off again.
Tumblr media
a/n: hi guys! I felt bad leaving you on a cliffhanger with that last one, so here's part 9 :) thank you so much to everyone for the kind words and support, both on posts and through messages, it does mean a lot 🧡 - lapetitelapin x
51 notes · View notes
thelaisydazy · 2 months
Text
Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out
“Riley! Bad dog!”
You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 
You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 
“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 
“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 
He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 
Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 
“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”
You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”
“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”
You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 
“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 
“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 
“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 
You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 
Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”
“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 
“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”
Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.
---
As a treat, here's a second one today <3
3K notes · View notes
ghouljams · 4 months
Note
hey bestie listen. I’ve just learned about glove decorum in the regency era. wearing gloves was insanely important and rich women had like a gazillion of them. but anyway apparently letting a man take your glove off was akin to rawdogging it in public and I was like “oh König would. nasty bitch” my question is who else in the regency au would do that
FUCKING ALL OF THEM BESTIE
König tugs your glove off as you walk through his gardens, your royally assigned chaperone looks the other way as he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your bare knuckles. You freeze when his tongue darts out to trace between your fingers, warm and wet, and darkly promising when his teeth scrape your skin. He pulls your glove off at your very public proposal as well, just so he can "see the way the ring looks against your skin." His thick fingers are tight around your wrist to keep your from nervously pulling away, and he dares anyone to say anything when he turns your hand over to kiss the soft skin of your wrist.
Price tugs your glove off under the table at a dinner party. His fingers tracing over yours, enjoying the soft skin. You can only be glad that the table cloth covers the way he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand. It would be proper for you to pull your hand away and pull your glove back on, but proper doesn't make your stomach flutter the way Price's fingers do. He traces a gentle "L-O-V-E" against your palm and you have to stop from giggling. Neither of you look at each other, merely continue your separate conversations with the understanding that you're both terribly, improperly, in love.
Soap has no problem tugging your glove off at a party after someone bumps into you and your drink spills over your glove. You're engaged, what does he care if people think it's rude? You smack him just hard enough to maintain your dignity, and he grabs your bare hand to hold it against his cheek, excitement twinkling in his eyes. You've never been more sure of your impending demise than when you see him smile against your palm.
Ghost pulls your glove off in the sitting room of your family home. He quietly studies your hand, tracing his fingers over the hills and valleys of your knuckles, around the blunt edge of your nails, around the sides of each finger. It's like he can't stop from touching you, from observing every inch of you down to the smallest scrap of skin. He turns your hand over to trace the lines of your palm, his nail gently following the whorls of your finger prints as he stares at your skin. You take his hand to measure your own against it, and he curls his fingers over yours, slips them between yours to hold your hand. His eyes shine with affection. He covers your bare hand with his, two big hands concealing your lack of a glove, when your maid brings in tea.
Gaz "notices a tear" in your glove and offers you his while you walk through the park. You offer him your hand to show you where the supposed tear is, and he very kindly pinches the seam and pulls it apart. You curl your fingers against his hand when he tugs your glove off, his eyes linger on your ring finger and you both enjoy the warmth of the other's skin. He's much slower helping you fit his gloves onto your bare hand. "You may as well walk around with a matching pair," He tells you, pulling your other glove off to replace with his own. His fingers dip under the far too loose band to stroke your bare wrist as you finish your walk.
1K notes · View notes
simonrillleyyysss · 5 months
Text
soap loves chubby girls
simon loves chubby girls
gaz loves chubby girls
price loves chubby girls
everyone loves chubby girls
end of post..
i said end of post
end of post!!!
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
hffhifjou · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes
dexonvi · 25 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
hm..
783 notes · View notes
kathy-ifnt · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Just go to his bed already!!!!
🥲
Join my patreon to see what happens if u do join him 👀
PATREON | TWITTER
938 notes · View notes
hunterbunter3000 · 1 year
Text
Laswell: You do know that you have everyone wrapped around your fingers, right?
141 Sweetheart: What?? Laswell, what're you talkin' about?
Laswell, looking at her stupid: The boys. The Capitan. König, Horangi- which was a surprise- Alejandro, Rudy-- hell, even Graves and Alex. They're all heavily whipped for you.
141 Sweetheart, laughing: Woah what?! Now that's just crazy talk.
Laswell:
Laswell explaining to her how the boys look at her, how Price let's her wear his hat constantly, how König follows her everywhere like a puppy, how Alejandro and Graves give her presents every week, how Horangi and Rodolfo write her poetry and become straight up messes when talking to her, and how Alex literally KNEELED before her:
Laswell walking over to the door and opening it, revealing all the boys eavesdropping on them:
Them scampering away quickly:
141 Sweetheart: ...That still don't prove--
Laswell: It proves everything.
6K notes · View notes
rodolfoparras · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media
Say something stupid (like I love you)
Pairing: Male character x Top Male reader
Cw: 18+, non human yandere character, human yandere reader, stalking, obsessing, possessiveness, masturbation, bondage, blood play, spit play, non consensual voyeurism, dubious consent, dom male reader, sub male character
Synopis: After spending so many years looking for the right one for him, he finally finds you or you find him…
When he first met you he hadn’t intended to fall in love, matter of fact he’d long given up on the concept solely because his partners rarely viewed love and relationships in the same way that he did.
Sure they’ve gotten jealous over him but never did they get possessive like he did.
Sure they’ve loved him but never did they get obsessed like he did.
Sure he’d been in committed relationships but never did they allow him to claim them properly.
And because of that he always broke up with them.
It’s love, he tried to explain, the all consuming type that has you tapping into your deepest darkest desires.
His previous lovers didn’t understand it, no one seemed to do, until he met you.
He had observed you through the shadows at first, not wanting to scare you away before he’d even gotten the chance to say hello.
He’d watch you practice in the garden. You were rather skilled with the sword but there were still weak spots in your swordsmanship, windows of opportunity where someone could come and harm you.
From then on he decided that he’d do everything in his power to prevent you from getting hurt, even if that meant secretly watching you from bushes and trees while you practiced with your sword.
He’d sometimes watch you take short walks to town. You didn’t seem to care whether it was day or night, seemingly determined as ever to finish whatever errand you had in mind. But he cared because sure while you knew how to wield a sword, the world you lived in was very unpredictable. You shouldn’t roam around alone so of course he followed wherever you decided to go.
He’d even watch you sleep until dusk turned into dawn through the window you always forget to close. Sometimes you couldn’t fall asleep for whatever reason, so you’d lay in bed, body bare and on full display lazily stroking your dick, grunts and groans tumbling past your lips, as you steadily worked yourself towards your release.
He tried not to look, it would be rather improper of him. He’d instead trail his gaze around your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, no one else but him.
You never noticed him or maybe you did because sometimes you’d throw a look over your shoulder while practicing with your sword as if you could feel someone watching you.
And sometimes you’d take one too many unnecessary trips to town, each time taking a new and unfamiliar path as if wanting to keep him on his toes somehow.
And sometimes while pleasuring yourself, you’d gaze into the open window, right in the spot where he usually hides himself, eyes searching the dark as if you were looking for something or rather someone, as if you were looking for him.
However the most notable thing was that you never seemed to fear him, at least not from what he could see.
There were no goosebumps rising upon your skin whenever you thought someone was watching you at practice, no pulse wildly beating under your skin when he was following you closely, no shaking limbs except for when you inched closer to your release.
He was intrigued.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and soon enough he decided to make himself known.
When he’d stepped out of the shadows and into the light he’d been intrigued with how much more beautiful you were up close but he’d been more intrigued with how familiar you seemed to be with him.
You didn’t lunge him down to the ground, didn’t bring your sword to his throat, didn’t even try to walk away when he came up to you.
Instead you said his name with a soft smile on your face, pronouncing the string of letters as if you were rather familiar with them, as if you were familiar with him. How you’d found that out, he had no idea.
He was used to an air of caution surrounding his conquests, the other party needing some time before they warmed up to him, maybe two or three dates before they allowed him to steal a kiss but there was no need for that with you.
There was no need for it when you were the one to pull him in for a kiss, a yelp of surprise turning into whimpers and whines, steadily licking into his mouth as if trying to erase any trace of previous conquests, sucking on his tongue and biting on his lips as if trying to devour him, before breaking apart, a string of blood and spit connecting you to him
At that point his conquests usually try to run away. They see the wild look in his eyes, the blood smeared around his mouth and run for the hills.
Instead it seems like you’re trying to prevent him from running away, one hand keeping a vice like grip on his throat, thumb pressing down on his Adam apples til his ears ring and world blurs while the other hand blindly fumbles for the cleft of his ass, fingers brushing over his clothed entrance.
He’d never managed to go as far as to get his conquests into bed yet here you were tying his limbs to the bed posters, using a bit of pre to stretch the tight ring of muscles before sinking into his warm wet heat like you owed it, uncaring of the way he winces and hisses as you set a steady pace with your hips, solely focusing on your pleasure.
You keep your gaze glued to his, like he’d done with you for so many weeks, eyes wide and frantic as if someone would steal him away from you, taking in the tears trickling down his cheeks, the way spit is dribbling down his chin, the way his cock is uselessly slaps against his abdomen while you frantically thrust into him.
And when he thought it was time to leave, feeling absolutely spent and wrung dry, nothing but pathetic spurts of cum spilling from his cock,you had stopped him before he could even get up.
This time you lunged at him, still naked as ever, your hard cock pressing against his thigh while pushing the sharp blade of a knife up against his jugglar.
Right then and there he knew that he loved you
and he knew that you loved him too.
644 notes · View notes
sleepyconfusedpotato · 2 months
Text
Catch My Breath
Tumblr media
The first kiss.
Set in Christmas Eve 2022, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II.
Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC), Alejandro Vargas Word Count : ~ 9600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.
Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Dont forget to come to cpt prices house today.’
You : ‘Of course not. I’m still at the orphanage for christmas gifts exchange. As soon as I'm done I'll be there :)’
Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Good’
Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Gaz is making some bangin biscuits and scones’
Jade smiled at her phone as she chatted with Soap. Her mouth already watering from imagining the taste of Gaz’s cooking on her tongue. According to Soap’s and Ladybug’s testimony, his chocolate biscuits were second to none.
You : ‘Wouldn't miss it even if I die.’
Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Alright. See ya.’
She bit her lip. There's one more question she wanted to ask though. She contemplated asking Soap this or not. 
Her thumbs moved across the screen slowly. 
You : ‘Is Ghost coming?’
When Soap had invited her to the dinner five days prior, all Jade could think about was whether or not Ghost would be joining. Their one week together in Las Almas made her feel… something. Something really, really good. Something she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He earned a friend in Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Ghost, especially, whom she’d thought of as a real piece of work back in Verdansk. Oh, how foolish she was. 
He was the best part about Las Almas. 
Dammit. What was she thinking?!
By the end of Chicago, after they eliminated Hassan, Ghost and Jade had traded phone numbers. Jade had his numbers and named it “💀💢 Beanpole 💀💢”, after the nickname she gave to him before they knew each other’s name. They haven’t texted at all. Ghost wasn’t the kind to text first, that much was clear to everyone who knew him. And neither was Jade. In fact, she didn’t know what to text him first. A “hi”? A… 
What else? 
What do people text each other when they’re trying to get to know each other? She had no goddamn clue. Well, she knew what to text when she wanted to get intel from an unassuming target, but she didn’t want intel from Ghost. 
She just wanted to know if he was okay, if he was fine, if the gash on his shoulder was healing well. Because of course, in her 29 years of life, a serious romance wasn’t a luxury that she could afford in her line of work in MI6. She took that lesson from her parents who literally had to ‘die’ first in order to even start. The point is, none of them texted first. They’re just another series of numbers in their contact list. 
An animation of dots showed up, indicating that Soap was typing. 
He’d typed for a few seconds before the animation stopped for a moment, and then started typing again. He must be changing his response. 
Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘If there's food he should be there.’
Oh? ‘... should be there’. That meant Ghost was not with Soap at the moment, and he didn’t know whether or not Ghost would be coming along. A week in Las Almas was enough for Jade to know that Ghost had grown closer to Soap as a friend-brother figure. The fact that Soap might not know his whereabouts was not a surprise, though. He’s the Ghost after all. 
But she couldn’t help but think, where was he? 
What did Soap type?
“Chacha! Can you help me a bit here? We're about to start the event!” 
Jade looked up from her phone, her ginger hair falling on her shoulders as she tucked her phone back in her pocket, swiftly walking over to one of her co-workers, Esther, an elderly soft-looking lady who volunteered for the orphanage - her former orphanage. This place held a lot of bittersweet memories, and it made her who she was. 
Her legs brought her to one of the high ladders leaning onto one of the walls of the dining hall. She took many mistletoes from the decoration boxes and swiftly climbed the ladder, hanging the vegetation one by one with ease. 
“Do we need this many mistletoes?” Jade asked while her hands worked. “At this point we’re gonna kiss someone by accident.”
“Of course not, what are you talkin’ about?!” Esther’s loud laugh almost broke Jade’s ears. “It’s Christmas, Chacha. The church had an overflow of mistletoes from the donations. If there's a day where we can add as many mistletoes as we can, it’s now. Let's call the kids over.” 
“Alright. Let's start this shall we?” 
The sound of Jade’s boots rang throughout the pavement as she hurried over to Price’s house. She travelled by public transportation from Surrey as she didn't have a car with her (plus she’s not much for driving safely - fake driving licence and… all that). She looked down at her watch to see 7 PM as the cold night finally settled. Each of her breaths turned to clouds in the air, shivering as she didn't have her outer jacket with her right now. She’s never one to be unprepared, but after one of the kids got too excited about getting a Lego toy and spilt a whole glass of apple juice onto her jacket, Jade had to fight through the cold with her trusty turtleneck and only one layer of thin knitted jacket as an outer, clutching the soaked coat close to her chest.
Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Jade reached the front of Price's house, immediately knocking on the wooden door three times. She looked up at the massive three-story building made out of bricks, that had a good space in the front yard. The building looked old like a family heirloom, but she could tell that it was pretty much taken care of. There’s a pair of trees that had shed all their leaves for the winter and had a decent amount of vegetation on either side of the doors.  
Jade looked back at the front yard. There were three cars parked in front, and she assumed that one of them belonged to Price, the other two should belong to either Gaz’s, Soap’s, or Ghost’s. 
The wooden door opened. She expected Price as the owner of the house to welcome her, instead, it was Eleanor, Gaz’s very own Ladybug who immediately screeched on top of her head. “JAAAADEEE!!! You’ve finally arrived!” The medic bursted out of the door hugging her figure so tight Jade might’ve folded. A beautiful burgundy sweater around a tan shirt wrapped her figure perfectly, and of course, with her wavy dirty blonde hair tied on the back with the ribbon Gaz gave her, worn out as it could be.
“Hey Lady! I miss you so much!!” The ginger greeted warmly all the while trying her best to stay balanced on her feet or else she’d fall five steps down to the ground on her back. As Lady pulled away, she gave room for Jade to step inside the warm house, taking a glance at Jade’s look. 
“Whoa. You only wear two layers? You’re shivering!” 
“Yeah. Apple juice all over my jacket, but don’t mind it.” She chuckled as she took off her jacket and coat to hang them on a standing coat hanger on the side of the door, “Have the others arrived?”
“You’re the last one. I came early with Kyle to bake the cookies and help Price with the food. Soap came second bringing sacks of snacks and drinks, and Ghost had just arrived before you, about 45 minutes ago.”
That caught Jade’s attention, her heart beat a little faster just at the mention of his name. “Just? Isn’t the Captain’s invitation at 5 PM?” 
 “Yeah. It looked like he was coming back from somewhere though.” 
Somewhere?
Lady’s eyes half blinked, looking at her teasingly. “...Am I sensing something here?”
“What? No. No. It's just that he’s um… usually an on-time kind of man.” Jade tried her best to act indifferent, looking away from her to observe the doorway decorations.
“Oh really? I see, I see.” Ladybug nodded, “Because I might have heard some stuff from Kyle~” 
Jade’s eyes opened wide at the statement, her mind already racing at the thought of what Gaz had said to his girlfriend. “What did he sa–”
 “There’s me trusty Ginger!”
A voice which she could identify from a mile away as Soap’s, called to her. Donning the green military-issued sweater above his uniform, which he rolled to the elbow, he walked in both women’s directions with a chocolate biscuit in hand. 
“Well hello there, Ocean Eyes.” Jade softly hugged Soap’s ever-bulky body while he patted her back several times. “How's your arm? Healing well?” She remembered how Soap got shot by Graves in Las Almas and how both of them, along with Ghost, had to survive the Shadow’s manhunt in the city. Even in Chicago he had to force through it. 
“You’re one to talk. How's your side?” Soap pointed at her left side while munching through his biscuit.
“You got hit?! Where?!” Ladybug, who’d been in Urzikstan to help Farah and Alex for nearly a year after Barkov’s demise, hadn't been updated much about Las Almas. Looked like Gaz left that tiny little detail. 
“She did get hit.” 
“No! No no. I didn't get hit per se. We were… breaking into the Las Almas prison to free Alejandro and the Vaqueros - a little bullet missed my hip, but it did leave a teeny tiny graze.” Jade made a little gesture with her thumb and index fingers.
“It wasn't.” Soap retorted, which made Ladybug look even more concerned. “You almost fell from the prison walls during our escape and LT had to catch you and carry yo–”
“ANYWAY.” Jade tried to dismiss the conversation away from Ladybug’s growing unease. “It was quite literally us four against a thousand. So we had our own hits. It was a month ago, right? I literally walked my way here! See? Now. Where's the man of the house?”
“Thought you want to camp in that doorway.” Price's gravelly voice called from the living room, his head peaking out from one of the walls. “Come in and close that damned door will ya? The forecast said it’s going to rain snow unless you muppets want to shovel the snow.” 
With Jade closing the door, they all walked together towards the interior of the house, where the warmth from the fireplace radiated throughout the room cozily. And holy shit. The word ‘family heirloom’ could perfectly describe the house. Some of the furniture looked like it was carved specifically for the house, soft carpets covered some parts of the wooden floor, and portraits of whom she assumed as the former Prices hung on the walls. The exterior of the house didn’t do the property justice at all. Soap had said that this was the Captain’s own house which he’d left mostly abandoned since he resided in Herefordshire. She wouldn’t lie, if Price turned out to be a secret old money she wouldn’t be surprised. 
Jade’s eyes found Gaz at the kitchen island wearing the same exact outfit as Soap and Price, but with an apron around his waist while he pulled out another batch of chocolate cookies from the oven. Gaz noticed her presence when Ladybug approached him and pointed her way. “Oh, Jade! Come here and eat the salmon. You’re not allergic to fish aren’t you?” This sight of Gaz was pretty surprising for her. He seemed more cheerful and open around Ladybug, contrasting to his serious demeanour in the field. It was refreshing, to say the least.
Jade put down her bag on one of the sofas where Price sat on the edge of it, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands skilfully. “Nope, no allergies. Have all of you eaten yet? Sorry I’m late.” 
“We have, and apparently my Ladybug over here is a vacuum cleaner of food.” Gaz was replied with an elbow to the rib by his partner. 
Taking her own plate of baked salmon, Jade watched from just enough distance as Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ladybug played a game of poker on the desk. The atmosphere was tense from the rivalry but hearty at the same time, their laughs filled the room as Price caught Soap hiding a card on his sleeves, which resulted in a 50 push-up penalty for the Scot. Apart from the chaos, Jade couldn’t help but find herself trying to find that one particular big man. 
The memories of sharing sleepless nights together on the rooftops of Fuerzas Especiales base rushed down her mind. Those moments made up the few moments of peace that they could muster up from the chaos of Las Almas. Just the both of them, the night sky, two cups of tea, and the lights from the city of souls. All those times they spent together completely with his mask on. Only when he decided to take off his mask in front of the 141 and Vaqueros did she ever see his face. 
She’s good with faces. That’s an absolute requirement for her job. That image of his face was ingrained in her brain. How the black paints surrounded his surprisingly soft eyes, how the sun reflected his whiskey brown eyes and light eyelashes, the scars on his cheeks from wearing the mask, and his strong jaw. 
Jade only wished she could enjoy the actual sight of it once more. 
The former MI6 turned her head a number of times, making up blueprints of Price’s residency inside her mind. This house didn’t have a rooftop, and from the looks of it, all the bedrooms are located on the upper floors. Ghost likes looking out at the scenery, so he might’ve gone upstairs, broke into one of the many bedrooms and looked out on of the balconies as he sipped on a cup of tea. Considering how Ghost was, he’d break into his captain’s house without anyone knowing about it just fine. 
All the while the others were playing, Jade finished her plate of grilled salmon and found her way towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. She came the latest, the least she could do was helping cleaning the kitchen area. That task came to a halt when her phone vibrated. She was confused at first, but when her eyes read ‘Col. Vargas 🤠’ on the screen, Jade immediately accepted the video call. 
“Hola, Coronel! Como estas?”
“Hola, Compa! Muy bien, muy bien.” Alejandro's gravelly voice greeted her excitedly as his video showed on Jade’s screen. She could tell that the sun was still up in Mexico judging by the light on his face. He looks like he’s standing just outside his family’s house. Quite rare to see the colonel in other attire than his military ones, but as Jade saw his blue shirt tucked inside his blue jeans, she couldn’t help the snicker that came out of her mouth. She remembered that Alejandro had revealed to her privately that he had two beautiful daughters who lived in Mexico City with their maternal grandparents. “I’m in Mexico City with my family to celebrate Christmas. We’re about to head to church for the Christmas Eve sermon.” Alejandro continued in Spanish, but something caught his eye. “Wait, Jade. Where are you? Is that Soap?”
Jade lifted the phone above her head to help him see the place clearly, “Yes, that’s Soap, Captain Price, Gaz, and that’s Eleanor, Gaz’s girlfriend.” She said in his language. Her fingers pointed at each soldier as they slammed their cards on the table, chaos ensuing in the middle of them. “This is Captain Price's house in London. He invited us all for dinner, and now that it’s done, they’re playing poker, aggressively.”
Now it’s Alejandro’s turn to laugh. “I’m assuming they’re on their second bottle of whatever alcohol they’re consuming.”
“Yep. Looks like Captain Price is richer than he lets on. He has 4 bottles of wine from the 1800s! Can you believe it?!” 
Jade and Alejandro continued their video call, sitting in her former position on the sofa. Despite Soap’s slight dislike that they were conversing in Spanish as he couldn’t understand what they were talking about, Jade kept on going. Jade learned that Rudy stayed in Las Almas to rebuild and restore the city after the Shadows wreaked havoc, encouraging Alejandro to leave the city and unite with his family. 
“So. Onto the most important topic…” Alejandro’s voice sounded deeper and his eyebrows lifted. Jade had learned after a thrilling week working together that those were a sign that he was onto something cheeky. “Where’s the Ghost?” 
Again, Jade’s heart beat faster at the mention of his name, and her stomach grew warmer. Damn it. “Um, I don’t know where he is. He is here somewhere in Price’s house, but… I haven’t seen him yet.”
“He’s there? Have you tried the rooftops?”
“This house doesn’t have a rooftop. It does have a lot of rooms with balconies, though. But I didn’t see any open window from the outside.” Her head started to look side to side, “ I don’t know if this house has a back or side entrance, he might be somewh– Alejandro!!” Jade stopped when she realized that Alejandro was laughing his belly off. 
“You’re looking for him too, don’t you?” The colonel guffawed. “Aaah, You should’ve seen your face when you were explaining where he is to me.”
“That’s–” 
“Look. I wished you luck with him back in Las Almas. It’s only natural that I asked for ‘updates’!”
“Keep fighting the good fight, hermano.”  “To the bitter end, my brother.” Soap handshook the Mexican colonel and sergeant as they were about to leave Las Almas. He then turned around and tapped Ghost’s shoulders twice, heading towards the rear end of the aircraft to unite with Price and Gaz. The lieutenant though, stood still on the tarmac a few steps behind Jade.  “Good luck amigos y amiga.” Jade hugged Rudy warmly, tapping her back a few times before holding out her hand to handshake Alejandro. Instead of a handshake, Jade saw a wide grin on Alejandro’s face and opened his arms wide, indicating that he was waiting for a hug as well. “Come here, Hermana!” Jade chuckled, expecting that a handshake wouldn’t be enough for the Mexican. She obliged by stepping forward and warped her arms around Alejandro’s figure.  What Jade didn’t see though, was how Ghost’s body tensed slightly behind her. Alejandro sneakily observed the man’s movement, looking visibly uncomfortable. No matter how skilled Ghost was at appearing as still as he could, Alejandro could see that this skill of his just disappeared when he was in Jade’s presence. Before Alejandro let go, he lowered his voice and spoke to Jade’s ear. “Que te vaya bien con el fantasma.” ‘Good luck with the Ghost.’ Jade blushed profusely when she translated that sentence in her mind, stepping away from the hug to punch his shoulder lightly “ey!!” She looked over to his side, finding that Rodolfo was also grinning ear to ear.  “I mean it, Jade.” Alejandro spoke in Spanish, tilting his head as a sign that he was serious. Jade’s head nodded in surrender a few times. As much as they wanted to converse more, her job wasn’t over yet. Her legs started to walk backwards, “Gracias, Alejandro, Rudy. Cuidate.”   Alejandro observed as she turned around, finding Ghost’s waiting figure right in front of her. She then tapped his chest plate once, jogging her way towards Price, Gaz, and Soap on the aircraft. That sight made the colonel scoff, glancing at Rudy, who looked as amused as he was. Just as Ghost was about to turn around as well to join his teammates, Alejandro called to his name. “Ghost!”  The lieutenant turned around.  “No te pierdas carnal!” “A huevo!”
“The both of you have forced me and Rudy to watch a telenovela the entire time! Please tell me that you’ve at least done something together after Chicago.”
“We traded numbers…” She said nervously.
“And then? Did he text first?”
Jade grimaced, expecting that Alejandro wouldn’t react well to her next response. “We… haven’t texted at all.”
“NO MAMEEESSS!!” Ale facepalmed on the video call like he just watched the Mexican national football team fail to score a goal in a World Cup match. “Ghost… I swear… you need to do better.” 
Jade stood up and walked over to the kitchen aisle yet again and put her phone on a leaning position on the wall, hoping that Alejandro’s shout of despair didn’t reach the other soldiers. “Well– what if he doesn’t want to continue this… whatever’s going on between us?” she grabbed a white mug and a cocoa mix, putting in 3 spoons of the choco powder inside. “You’ve seen how he is. I don’t want to hope too much.” Jade confessed to the colonel, pouring hot water on the mug and stirring the contents with a spoon until the sweet aroma hit her nose.
“Oh you don’t know that yet, right?” Ale replied, “Do you want to have a relationship with him?”
A relationship with Ghost? 
That sounded crazy to say, but if she's being honest with herself, yes. Yes, she did. 
“Yeah…” She started to walk towards the hallway on the side of the kitchen with the warm mug. The walkway looked narrow and led to the rear side of the house. She guessed that if this conversation was prolonged, they were going to need a place where Soap wasn’t shouting his lungs off. Her green eyes looked to the end of the room, where a wooden door similar to the front door was present in front of her. A back door perhaps?
“Okay. Now one of you needs to start. Ghost clearly isn’t starting because he’s a stupid, bad man. But maybe you can convince him that you’re worth his time.”
Worth his time? “How?” 
“Start by finding him.”
The former MI6 walked towards the back door and glanced over the glass parts where the outer side of the house was visible. Just then, she registered a man with a large frame, sitting on the stairs of the back porch. He wore the same attire as the rest of the SAS members - their military uniform covered with a military-issued sweater, and layered further with a familiar black jacket that she’d seen before in Chicago. The man had a mask over his head, but she could see that it was currently lifted up as he took a sip of what she assumed was bourbon. 
That’s definitely Ghost.
“Jade? What happened?” Alejandro asked curiously as she stopped speaking earlier.
“I found him.” She muttered.
Alejandro’s lips curved, slowly forming a smile. 
“The floor is yours, Jade.”
*5 hours earlier*
Johnny : 'LT. You’re coming, right?'
Ghost looked down at his phone, staring at the message that Johnny had sent him, not planning to text anything back. 
He hated Christmas. No, he didn’t hate decors, the bright lights, the red, green, and white that coloured the streets and buildings around him. No, he’s not petty like that. He’s indifferent to it. 
What he hated was how the month of December always reminded him of the darkest part of his life. 
He lowered his phone and tucked it inside his pocket, going back to the sight of his family’s gravestones right in front of him. His mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. 
Ghost remembered the blood; the foul stench hitting his nose as he stood frozen, witnessing the lifeless bodies of his family – all surrounded by the colourful lights of red, green, and blue from the Christmas tree that they were decorating. If only he realized sooner that his enemies wouldn’t settle with torturing him. If only he wasn’t so naive and thought that his battles were done as soon as he was home. How wrong he was. 
How fucking wrong he was. 
Ghost’s tears had dried out a long time ago. Every Christmas Eve he always visited their graves. He’d cry for the first three years, but now he’d settle with staring at the stones, not a word coming out of his mouth. Just him, alone with that memory.
His phone vibrated again. Johnny’s still messaging him about the dinner at Price’s house. Ghost closed his eyes in annoyance and sighed, taking his phone and turning it on to find a few messages.
Johnny : ‘Captain said not to disturb you during Christmas week’
Johnny : ‘Idk what you’re doing now’
Johnny : ‘but I hope you’re enjoying yourself’
Ghost moved his thumb on the keyboard screen, wanting to text Johnny that he was not coming and to stop messaging him. 
Johnny : ‘Also’
Johnny : ‘Jade’s coming’
His thumb paused right above the send key. 
Fuck. 
Why did his heart beat faster suddenly? What was this warmth in his stomach? His memories of his family’s death disappeared, and suddenly all the moments with Jade came down rushing through his mind. 
The moment when they met – where they shot at each other in Verdansk, leaving a permanent mark on his left ear – The sleepless nights in Las Almas, the meaningless conversations, their moments in battle together. How beautiful she was when she kept her calm during pressing and stressful situations, the grace in her movements…
Fuck. 
Fucking hell.
Ghost had read Price’s invitation two weeks before in their group chat. He already made up his mind from the beginning that he wasn’t coming. He never really enjoyed parties or any form of gathering at all. That’s how he’d been living for three decades of his life. Why did that one mention of her name from Johnny instantly change his resolve just like that? 
He didn’t reply to Johnny at all, only leaving the two blue check marks indicating that he’d read Johnny’s messages. 
And that… was how Ghost ended up sitting on Price’s back porch. The crescent moon was high in the sky. Little bits of snow started to fall down alongside the windy weather. For the first time of the day, he had his skull-painted balaclava up to his nose in order to take a sip from his glass of bourbon. 
When he had arrived at Price’s front yard with his sedan, Ghost saw the amused surprise in Price, Gaz, and Lady’s faces, but he also took a glimpse of Johnny’s smirk on his lips. The sergeant now knew the way to his heart, and it infuriated him. God damn him.
The sun was already long gone by that time, and he could see that the others were already in the midst of eating their dinner. 
He’d sneakily taken a glance around Price’s luxurious house.
No Jade yet. 
Ghost had conversed for a while with Price, took his own plate of baked salmon, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and excused himself to the back door. For an hour and a half, he sat right there, slowly sipping on his alcohol. Just as he thought that she wasn’t coming and that Johnny had lied to him, the wooden door behind his back opened.
He turned around and found the woman herself.
Jade. 
Her ginger hair was braided like usual, but stopped on the back of her head, letting the long hair run freely down her back and shoulders. The deep red turtleneck which usually looked out of place in warm weather such as Las Almas currently fitted perfectly on her figure. A green pair of wide pants hung from her hip, letting the fabric run freely downwards instead of wrapping around her legs like the jeans he’s used to seeing her wearing during their mission together.
Ghost caught her green eyes, reflected by the moonlight, and he could easily tell that she wore some sort of makeup. What the name was he couldn’t bother to remember, but she looked… beautiful.
His heart was already beating pretty fast from the alcohol, but now it’s going even faster, and don’t even start about the butterflies that were flying rampant inside his stomach right now. 
She only stared at him, her breaths turning to cloud along with the vapour from the cocoa mug she was holding. For a few seconds, they stayed like that, until Jade finally started.
“Why aren't you inside? It's cold.”
Can you miss someone’s voice? Apparently you can, judging by the unexplainable sense of relief that washed over him after he heard her voice. The last time he heard her voice was back in Chicago, a month ago. He then turned around again, facing Price's plain backyard to try hiding any signs from his exposed mouth that she might read. The former MI6 had this scary skill to read every body language of any person. Sure, he had a mask up to his nose, but he wouldn’t take any chances.
“I don't like parties.” He replied.
“It's cold.” 
“Better than whatever's going inside. And I have my friend right here to keep me warm.” He slightly lifted the bourbon glass, shaking it slightly to make the content swirl.
Jade hummed. She observed his glass and noticed the alcohol. For all their nights in Las Almas, Ghost always drank tea, never alcohol. Of course, they were in active duty, so drinking liquor could cost them so much, but he'd said himself that he pretty rarely drinks, since Ghost had confessed that he liked being in control of what he did. She wondered why he was drinking, but she let it go. Instead, Jade stepped two stairs down, and sat beside Ghost’s left, drinking her own cup of hot chocolate.
“Why are you here?” Now it's Ghost’s turn to start. 
She wondered how to answer that. If she's being honest, the answer would be ‘to be with you’, but she deleted that response in her mind.
“I… don't really like parties.”
“…You don't look the type.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘my’ type?”
Ghost took another sip from the glass, “Likes being around people. Gets your energy from a communal space.”
The former MI6 scoffed. “Fooled you right there. Maybe it’s just me, but being around people automatically sets me in observation mode. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. It’s just tiring.”
“Hm.”
Another few seconds of silence, before she continued. “What about you? Why are you here?”
“Gets noisy inside, especially if Johnny's starting to lose his grip on reality.” Ghost immediately answered, almost like he expected Jade to ask him that. “He’s a screamer.”
“Hey how's your graze wound? It's healing well right?
Jade suddenly asked, which surprised Ghost. He glanced at Jade, finding the woman herself looking straight into his brown eyes. He should admit, her face so close to his caught him off-guard, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, creating a cloud in the air. Ghost then took a sip from his glass again before answering. “Yeah. I changed the dressing every once in a while. It's just a scab now. “ To be honest, he kind of forgot about the wound on his right shoulder. It was disgustingly painful during their time in Las Almas and Chicago considering how he must carry the chestplate and his gears on that shoulder. The memory of Jade tending to that wound of his at the safehouse came rushing down his brain.
“Okay, that's a relief then. Just make sure you don't scratch it or it'll open again.”
“I know the drill, Midget, I’m not a kid. This isn't my first rodeo. What about you?”
“Wh-what about me?”
“Your hip.”
The former MI6 sucked both of her lips between her teeth. “It’s fine.”
“Fine how?”
Jade now looked at Ghost’s brown eyes, intensely gazing at her own. He wasn’t taking ‘It’s fine’ as an answer. He was always an intense person. She suddenly remembered the feeling of being safe in his hands when he carried her towards the van, arms under her shoulder and knees when she couldn’t bear the pain in her hip any longer. 
How Ghost had slept the whole night, in a sitting position on a chair beside her bed in the safehouse with his mask on, staying right by her side.
“Oi. Midget. I’m asking you.”
That snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh? Yeah! It’s a bit itchy at times, but I can manage. It’s healing well.”
That answer seemed to finally satisfy him. “Hm.”
Jade went back to her hot chocolate, but Ghost didn’t leave her. He could see her shivering a little bit in the cold. The tip of her nose and ears had turned rosy.
“You cold?”
“Hm? No! No, not at all. Why?"
“You're shivering. And where's your jacket? A single layer of sweater won't help with this fucking weather.”
“Well– About that. I was at the orphanage for Christmas gift trading earlier before coming here. One of the kids got… too excited and spilt apple juice all over my jacket, so I had to take it off.” She admitted. 
“What, you're gonna freeze yourself to death here? It's 1 degree out.”
“I don't want to be insiiiide.” Jade whined, almost childish. A sight Ghost would never admit he found cute.
“Your survival instincts are out of the damn window. I thought you were a seasoned MI6 black agent.” Somehow he found more ways to ridicule her.
The ginger scowled, pouting her lips before standing up “…Whatever, I'm going inside”
“Fuckin’ hell– stay. Stay here. Sit back down.” Ghost’s swift hand grabbed her forearm a bit too harshly, prompting her to balance her hand as a drop of her hot chocolate spilt out to the white snow below. 
“Why? You want me to freeze to death?” Regardless, she sat back down, closer to his body now.
“You're the only company I've got that isn't annoying. So stay here.” Ghost unexpectedly moved his arms to take off his black jacket, revealing his green sweater underneath, and much to Jade’s surprise, his arms loomed over her and rested the dark clothing around her shoulders. Her bewilderment failed to hide itself when his hand patted her shoulder a couple of times to set it in place. “There. Better?”
Wow. It’s… warm. And most importantly, It’s his warmth. 
One of her hands left the warm mug, softly tracing her fingers along the hem of the jacket to tuck it closer to her chest. “...Better.”
Shit. Ghost didn’t know the sight of Jade beneath his jacket would create more butterflies to fly like bees inside his stomach. In an attempt to suppress it, he sighed, leaning back and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. 
…before he opened his eyes, finding a mistletoe hanging right above them, placed neatly. And purposefully. It’s like a damned grenade trap. “…Fuckin’ hell…”
“STOP SWEARING!!” Jade exclaimed, annoyed at his shortage of vocabulary. “You've said those words twice in the same mi– What are you looking at…?” Jade looked at Ghost, who was leaning back while his head hung backwards on his neck. 
She looked up as well, finding the mistletoe that made him swear. “…oh, blimey.” There was not a single Christmas decoration on the back side of the house but this one. Price was a person who had a high attention to detail, but Christmas decoration was not one of them. Heck, he barely decorated the house at all. That thing was hung far too strategically.
Both Ghost and Jade were thinking of the same thing.
Soap. 
Ghost sighed, “Just ignore it.” 
“But it's bad luck though.” Jade thoughtlessly said.
“You don't really believe that, do you.”
“Well I don't! It's hanging vegetation. Still, I'm saying it could be true.” Her hands gestured at the mistletoe above her.
“What, you want a kiss?”
The woman gasped, almost offendedly. “HUH? KISS YOU??”
“Who else is underneath this fucking mistletoe?” 
She joked, trying desperately to hide her panic at the thought of kissing him. “A ghost.”
“Fucking funny. Also what's with you? It's just one kiss.”
Jade stopped speaking. Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “Um…. I just don't…”
Confusion fell down Ghost’s half-masked expression, quickly reading her reaction, until he got to the conclusion. “...Don't fucking tell me you haven't had your first kiss yet.” 
When he saw how Jade couldn’t respond anymore, Ghost pinched his forehead.“Bloody hell... Then why did you say you want it?!”
“I NEVER SAID I WANT IT??? I just said that the bad luck thingy could be true!”
“Well fuck us for five hundred years then!” 
“DAMMIT– OKAY!! KISS ME!”
Those words perplexed him, not realizing that he was practically glaring at her that his eyes might come out of its socket. The ever-present black paint around his eyes didn’t help to ease the tension either. Jade herself didn’t know which thunder slapped her that she said those words. She wasn’t the kind of person to just spout things without thinking of the consequences first. 
Ghost observed Jade’s face, trying to read her expression, to see whether or not she was joking or serious. Because in the deepest part of his heart, he’d hoped that she was joking. But even deeper, he hoped that she wasn’t. “…you don't mean that.”
Jade wondered if her mouth had disconnected from her brain. What she was saying came out literally the opposite of what her instincts were. “You heard me. You can kiss me. Just a peck though.” What was she thinking? This was NOT what she wanted to say. Or was it? “How many women have you kissed?” Aaand now she’s prying onto his past? Great job, Jade. 
He used to be young, that’s for sure. Despite his father and brother mocking him and his mother for it, he used to go to school and met a few women during his learning days. Only two of them, though, and that was all before he got into military. He didn’t know what commitment was back in the day, and his ‘girlfriends’ didn’t know that either. “...a few.” 
“Were they experienced?”
“Probably so.” 
Okay, so he had some experience. That somehow made her feel easy. “Well… I have zero experience on the act. So… be gentle, okay?”
“…Fine.“ Ghost breathed as he put down his almost-empty glass on the stone staircase behind him, finding Jade doing the same. 
The coldness of the wind prickled her skin, making her realize that this was not a dream. He’s about to kiss her, and it’s from a mistletoe. Out of nowhere, she remembered the overflow of mistletoe that the orphanage received earlier. Could that be a sign? Either way, she snapped back to her current state, where Ghost was visibly looking at her lips, and that sight made her heart drum twice the speed. At this point, she might explode. “Okay. So… what do I do? Do I tilt my head a little, or do I open my lips just a little bit? Should I lean in to kiss you too?  Or like–”
“Just. Stay. Still.” Ghost shut her up before she could blabber more.
“Okay okay okay”. 
Jade watched Ghost secure his mask up to his nose, revealing his mouth. When she glanced at his lips, Jade could see a tinge of red on his cheek, but she could dismiss that as a reaction to the cold or from the alcohol he was drinking. When he leaned in slowly, Jade could see him so close, the closest he's ever been to her. His eyelashes were longer than she's ever realised, fluttering against his skin, the little healed scars on his face–
Jade sucked her lips into her teeth, "WAIT WAIT WAIT." Making the man flinch and pull away in confusion.
 "What?! Do you wanna do this or not?!" Ghost exclaimed.
"I do, I do! It's my first time! Just–”
“I said all you need to do is stay. Still.”
“I've never done this before, literally! I'm 29 and I've never kissed someone!”
Ghost fell silent as Jade hid her face on her palm.
“…I have never fallen for anyone before.” She confessed. “I wanted my first kiss to be with the one and only, and now… “ Her hands wildly gestured to the mistletoe above them, “someone happened to put a mistletoe right above us.”
Jade was a lot of things. A formidable fighter, a dependable ally, a brave operator who’d jump from a cliff with you, a spawn of the devil herself when she does her thing. However, at that moment, Ghost didn’t see any of those at all. All she saw was a vulnerable woman, curled up in a ball because she couldn’t fathom the concept of a single kiss.  
After a few moments of him letting her collect her thoughts, Ghost muttered, “…Jade, if you're not ready, then we can just pretend that it doesn't exist. You don't have to.”
“You know what?” She tapped both of her knees with a considerable force, like she just made up her mind about something. “I gotta start somewhere right? Besides, when I finally kiss my man, I need to work on my kissing game.”
Ghost couldn’t help the scoff out his mouth. And… ‘her man’, huh? That could be a dream. “'Kissing game'?”
“Yes! Gotta…know what it feels like, at least?”
Ghost observed her expressions yet again. The woman in front of her was looking at him like she’s about to surrender her life to his hands. What, was he about to shoot an apple above her head? To him this was just a kiss after all.
Or was it?
Jade wasn’t his girlfriends during his younger days. She’s an extraordinary woman like no other. 
“…Okay. Look. We're gonna do this slowly. I will do all the work while you can just stay there. Does that work with you?” Ghost started, looking at Jade in the eyes.
She put on the bravest face she could muster up and proceeded with a nod.
“Say it.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, because of course, it wasn’t enough for him. 
“Okay, Ghost.”
“Good. Close your eyes, Jade. Just calm down. Trust me.
As she closed her eyes, she breathed the cold winter air deeply before letting them out. Now that her vision was no more, her other senses had heightened. The sharp cold air stabbing her skin, the faint sounds of Alejandro's guitar playing from inside of the house, the smell of hot cocoa on her hands, the faint scent of something that could only come from Ghost's jacket wrapped around her shoulders. 
For a good amount of time, she didn't feel anything other than her surroundings. Jade was expecting something on her lips. Anything from the man that was sitting right in front of her, but none came. She was about to open her eyes and call his name, until something touched her chin, lightly lifting her head to face upwards. And just then, Jade finally felt a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. His lips stayed there only for a second before they parted with her skin, yet it felt like she longed for it for more than eternity. No one has ever laid their lips on her skin before. No one. 
What she was expecting was something on her lips, not her forehead, so when Jade was about to open her eyelids, again, he stopped her by putting his fingers on her left cheek, tenderly sliding them from her rosy cheek to the back of her ear, taking the stray strands of her red hair with them. The hands that killed, that murdered many so more could live, were gingerly touching her face with an unexpected amount of softness. She didn’t know his hands were capable of doing such delicate movements, and neither did he. 
Before she could register what was happening, she felt him getting close again, and for the second time, her expectation betrayed her when Ghost kissed her cheek, just right under her eye. The kiss lasted longer than the one on her forehead, yet Jade couldn’t find any reason to complain. If anything, she wanted his lips to stay on her cheek longer than that. To feel him closer, to feel him more. 
Ghost’s fingers moved on backwards from behind her ear, going through the wilds of her undone hair and finding its place on the back of her head. Heart racing, Jade was expecting another kiss that was not in the designated place. However, when his deep, raspy voice softly said to her, “I’m going to kiss you now.”, she found herself giddy with her eyes closed. Part of her wanted to open her eyes and see what was going on right in front of her, but the other part stood strong against it, not wanting to ruin the moment. 
So when she felt him closing in, Jade gave all control over to him. She relaxed herself, letting Ghost gently pull her head closer to his, to at last, close the distance between their lips.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
 It was the softest, slowest kiss possible, filled with unsureness on her part, yet with a sense of certainty and confidence from him, and because of that, Jade let him do his part, leading the kiss to the point that it was enjoyable and… lovely. 
The kiss lasted for only a mere 5 seconds at most, but it felt like hours. Ghost reluctantly pulled back and saw that Jade had already opened her green eyes. Her face was painted with shyness and shock, a pleasant one, as she saw that Ghost had removed his mask entirely, his face right in front of hers, his brown hair still a bit dishevelled from removing his balaclava.
Jade was a heavily trained warrior and an exceptionally skilled individual who stayed calm in times of distress and emergency on the battlefield, a force to be reckoned with, and could be an absolute menace when she wanted to be. Now, seeing the same woman like this – dazed, wide-eyed, a blushing mess, and taken aback by a simple kiss – The sight made him smile softly. 
If only she'd known how long he'd wanted to do that to her.
Palm still resting on the side of her neck, he asked her, “How was that for a first time?”
Jade looked like a robot losing its ability to function. There were no words in her brain to respond to his question. Scratch that. It looked like she didn’t even register what his question was. 
Seeing her so flabbergasted made him let out a deep chuckle. “Midget. I’m talking to you.”
That bastardized nickname snapped her out of her thoughts, making her blink rapidly, seemingly trying to sort her jumbled brain. Jade looked at the man who just claimed her first kiss right in his dark, brown eyes. 
He’s still right in front of her, face looking at her delightfully with a sweet smile, not like the usual dark, ready-to-kill gaze. It’s almost like looking at a different person entirely. 
“Uh… Umm–” Jade couldn’t form words.
Another chuckle, “You okay?”
"...this is a weird request, but" A pause, "Can you… do that again?"
Never in a thousand lifetimes, he would ever expect that answer from her. "...You want me to kiss you again?"
"Yeah. Can you do that?" She spoke with a low voice. "Please?"
His eyes opened wide at her request. Confused, but amazed at the same time. Did that request mean she liked it? Her expressions said that she did, though. Or did she just want to make sure? Nevertheless, Ghost decided to oblige and leaned in again to kiss her. 
Jade closed her eyes again and felt his lips against hers for the second time that night. His kiss was as soft and as tender as the first time. This one, though, she decided to take in the feeling of his rough lips, the way he tilted his head to fit hers, the way his large hand lightly pulled her in and softly kissed her. All the sensations she felt from his actions became ecstasy.
Tumblr media
Her hands lifted their way up to find Ghost's cheeks. Jade could swear she heard a small gasp from the man. Fingers gliding along the side of his face, she could feel his stubbles grazing her skin. It was such a surreal sensation, to think that this is the face of the man who got branded as a ghost, a myth, who wears the mask to hide who he is. Right now, she's having her palm on the skin of his face, and he allowed her to. 
No one had touched the skin on his face in years. No one ever managed to get their hands on his face save for enemies who sought to kill him and punched his mask before meeting their demise with his knife. The only form of touch he remembered was of his father, who was all but loving.
With the tip of her thumb, Jade traced the scars on his face. Her warm hands instantly built a gentle fire on his skin. The feeling of such a tender touch was almost like meeting a stranger to him. But if it's a stranger, why did he find himself missing it so much? Why did he yearn for it so? Her touch ignited a warmth that he never knew he needed. 
At that time, the woman he was kissing felt more like home than anything and anyone ever did. He felt like he could just melt right there and then. Here Ghost thought that he was the one kissing her, but now it was like she was the one casting some sort of magic spell on him. 
Soon, their hands moved, Jade’s hands left his cheeks and found his wrist who was holding the back of her head. He almost forgot the feeling of someone’s hand on his own, but before he knew it, he felt her other hand grasping his sweater, right above his heart, crumpling the cloth. As they went on, he couldn’t just stay still anymore. Ghost’s other hand also found its way to her back, lightly pressing on her. He wanted her closer, he needed her close.
Ghost snapped himself out of his thoughts and pulled back, catching Jade off guard. 
The both of them looked into each other's eyes as they caught their breaths, not noticing that they'd been kissing for the last minute. Faces extremely red from racing hearts and rushing blood, clouds of cold air escaping their mouth from the cold, for a moment they thought they knew this was just because of a single mistletoe, yet deep down, they knew this was something more. 
Not hearing anything from one another, Ghost took his hand back from her neck and waist as Jade parted her hands from him to her lips with her hands. 
The man spoke first, "You need more?"
"Yes– I mean– No! That was enough." Words stumbled their way out of her mouth. "Uh… So… that happened. I just had my first kiss."
Ghost couldn't help the smile, "I just stole your first kiss."
"No. You didn't steal it." She denied, "If anything, I'm glad you are my first kiss."
Hearing those words, Ghost could feel his heart racing again, the world suddenly felt warmer. 
"I'm sorry you have to kiss me, though. You've always hated me." Jade continued with a laugh.
"Who says I hate you?" 
That made her look at him, and what she saw was the most gentle face she'd ever seen him. Again, she didn't know he was capable of that expression. "If I hated you, I wouldn't ask you to stay, wouldn't I?" 
That's a true statement. "You're right. So we're past the "stay away from me" phase now?" 
"Our first meeting was in Verdansk. Situation was out of control and we were off to a bad start." He explained, "And we just kissed. We're way past that now."
Smiling, Jade pursed her lips before saying, "So… are we still friends?" 
"Friends?" He glanced at her.
"Yep."
"Friends then." Confirmed Ghost. 
"Who just kissed each other."
"Because someone hung a fucking mistletoe on the back porch." He retorted while gesturing to the decoration above them. 
The woman laughed out loud before looking at the man, who was also having a chuckle of his own. 
That's the first time she heard him – saw him – this happy. Had he always been this… handsome? She'd only looked at his face once before, which was when he revealed himself to the team in the Los Vaqueros safehouse in Las Almas, and then, never again.
But if this was what Jade could see beneath the mask – his happy face, the crows feet on the corners of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning upwards, and the fact that she just learned that he had shallow dimples when smiling – then she wished the mask could just disappear. Forever.
Because after this… he would  put on that mask again. 
This might be the last time she saw him without the mask.
When would she see him without it again?
Out of nowhere, some unexplainable force of will inside her made Jade lean in and left a peck on Ghost's cheek. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The SAS lieutenant instantly looked at the woman, flabbergasted. 
Jade herself gasped loudly, covering her face in disbelief of her own action. She couldn't see it, but in his eyes, her face was as red as her hair.
Why did she do that? What made her do that?!
They swore it was the most deafening silence in their lives. Both of them stayed like that for a good 10 seconds, seemingly trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.
"Oh my God… OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY!” Jade uttered in absolute panic.
Ghost stayed still in silence, his eyes wide open glaring at hers. 
Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He’s mad. HE’S MAD. 
“It– It's freezing! I'm going inside!" Jade scrambled to stand up, taking the cocoa mug with her and went to the doorway, before remembering that she still had Ghost's jacket on her shoulder. 
"Ja- Lottie! Wait–" He was about to stand up to follow her, but his words got cut by his jacket flying straight to his face. When he removed the clothing, she'd already disappeared into the merry party inside. 
Touching the part where Jade kissed him, Ghost slowly stared back at the falling snow in front of the porch. He hadn't worn his jacket yet, and somehow he didn't feel cold at all.
It's so hot. 
It's too hot. 
He buried his face in his palms, before running them through his brown hair. She didn't have to do that, didn't she? There was a mistletoe, they kissed because of it, and that was it, right? 
Then what was that peck for? There wasn't any obligation involved that required her to kiss him again. 
Ghost could feel his heart pumping blood faster than it ever did, faster than when he was on the battlefield, faster than when he ran laps every day. Butterflies were rushing deep inside his stomach, flying all around his insides like it just wanted to break out of his body.
He didn't know why, but if the kiss and her touch were a gentle fire that built slowly, that little peck felt like he just got struck by a damn thunder. 
Violently.
And yet, he was so happy about that little peck - weirdly more so than the kiss - Too fucking happy. 
Ghost grasped the sweater right above his heart before muttering to himself, 
"Fuckin’ hell…" 
Jade didn't melt his cold heart. 
She set it on fire. 
Price couldn’t believe the situation he was in.
His sergeants, Kyle and Soap, along with Ladybug, leaning on the back door of his house, looking at Ghost and Jade kissing at his back porch. Fucking spectacular.
“See, Gaz?! I told you–”
“SHUT UP Mate they’re gonna hear your loud arse.” Gaz nudged the drunken Scot’s rib to silence him. 
Nevertheless, the plan worked. Gaz and Ladybug was the provider of the decorations since Price didn’t have any Christmas Decorations in this house in London. When Soap arrived with a mischievous look on his face and told the couple about “Operation Red Skull”, they were automatically IN on it. 
And who would’ve fucking guessed? They made his house a home ground for matchmaking, and they succeeded. They weren’t his best subordinates for nothing after all.
Suddenly, Price heard a loud gasp from the three in front of him. His captain persona suddenly kicked in and stepped forward, shoving both of his sergeants to see the situation clearly.
There they saw Jade and Ghost, looking at each other, with Jade’s face looking like she was absolutely shocked. 
“Oh my God… did she just sneak another kiss to him?!” Ladybug exclaimed with a whispering voice.
“FUCK! I didn’t have a clear visual.” Gaz followed.
“I think it was just a peck to his cheek??” Soap added.
“Everyone fall back!” Price commanded, and just like muscle memory, they all scrambled back to the living room, taking their respective deck of poker cards and sat around the messy table to pretend like they were still playing.
Soon after, Jade herself opened the back door with a face that none of them had ever seen before – a combination of shock and embarrassment.
“Jade? You okay?” Lady twisted her body to see Jade.
The former MI6 nodded uncontrollably like a shaking head doll. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”
Gaz and Soap were covering their mouths with their deck of cards, unable to hide their smiles. It looked like they were about to break into a massive laughter any second now.
What broke it was Captain Price, who suddenly asked Jade,
“Really? What’s that black spot on your nose, then?”
---
YEEEHHEHEEHEHHHEHE. Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it! (❁´◡`❁)
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3
951 notes · View notes
buckysmith · 1 year
Text
He gets drunk
Includes: Alejandro, Grave, Ghost and Soap
Warning: Adult stuff, mention of alcohol use, 18+ stuff but not to heavy
(Has nothing to do with the headcanons I just love that song and listened to it while writing )
____________
Alejandro: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- he is actually a man who can stand a lot of alcohol
- he doesn't really like drinking games, but if Rudy challenges him, he's not the one to shy away from it
- as I said, he can stand a lot of the devils liquor but holy hell after an amount of it that could possibly kill any other human he’s not the stoic thinking Alejandro Vargas.
- He knows he’s a good locking man so it’s not unusual that some chicas or chicos flirts with him
- some of his team would call you in situations like that, not because he’s a cheater no. They would call you to pick him up because he gets whiny and grumpy about that your not here with him
- ofc you would pick your love sick husband up but to be honest, after one whole bottle of Mezcal he’s fucked up (just to remember you that would most possible kill any other person) and wouldn’t really recognize you
- at first he would tell you to go away cause he’s in a relationship
- when you want to take him with you he gets angry, telling you to fuck off cause he has the most beautiful, loving, kind hearted and attractive S/O in the whole world
- you would giggle about it, telling you your his s/o
- he would try to recognize your face but because of the darkness and way to much alcohol he just couldn’t
- but he would recognize your scent
- yeah, good luck going home after he recognized you
- cough instead horny cough
- anyways, even though he’s fucked up your night wouldn’t end quickly after you got him home
- oh and even in this state your his top priority ;)
(I’m sorry but I think drunk as fuck he would dance/ sing to that song Vamos a la Playa)
Graves: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- He hates drinking games more than anything else
- but if someone challenges him he can’t say no, his ego ist waaaay to big for that
- after a good amount of alcohol he would call you to take him home
- he knows he’s an attractive man so from time to time people would hit at him but he would causally show his wedding ring (he doesn’t even want to look at the people that want him)
- he knows he can’t drive and he doesn’t want to take an Uber (it’s just not safe as someone like him) so he would wait for you
- he would wait till you show up with another drink in his hand
- he’s not quite talkative on your way home, but he would lay his hand on your thigh, murmur a lot of sweet nothings and a lot of dirty things
- after you both got home he would ask you to take his clothes off
- cough alcohol makes him horny and you do too cough
Soap: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- he likes the taste of scotch that sharp, distinct flavor is what he likes about it
- The few times he has with his whole team are most likely to have a serious matter but the rare times when they can sit in a bar drinking with each other and don’t have to worry to get killed end most of the time with a drinking game
- he isn’t as good with alcohol as ghost or price but he would definitely try to win that stupid drinking game
- price would be the one that calls you
- soap would only sit in some corner, with a picture of you in his hand whining that he wants you to be here with you (he’s love sick)
- the moment you’re in front of him, kneeling between his legs and gently touching his cheeks would end with you back first in the wooden floor
- Ghost would definitely take pics/ videos of you too, most likely to tease soap after he’s sober
- You would take your big boy home
- he’s more on the cuddle side
- he wants you to touch him, to tell him sweet nothings and praise him
Ghost: (not my gift)
Tumblr media
- no matter how much he drinks, he isn’t able to get drunk
- fr this man can drink stuff that could kill any other human and he’s still fucking sober (at least he seems to)
- But even though he isn’t the usual drunk man, he gets homesick or better he wants to go home to you
- he knows even though he’s still able to put one and one to two he’s not gonna drive home so he would call you
- he’s a ghost, the others wouldn’t notice that he disappeared (at least they would notice when he’s already over the hills)
- love sick puppy
- he had it rough and in times like that he needs you more than anything
- he’s quite emotional when he’s drunk, it’s most likely the only time he’s able to cry and to let out his feelings
- Cuddle with him, praise him, pet him, take care of him, you’re the one he needs the most
6K notes · View notes
thedevillovesflowers · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Showdown
@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world 🐻
519 notes · View notes
Note
🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.
My Heart Will Go On
Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)
TW: Blood, torture, manipulation
Pairing: GhostxReader
Part 2
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.
You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.
Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.
“Ghost, do you copy?”
“Ghost?”
“Price?”
“Gaz?”
“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.
Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.
“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.
“‘M not! I don't-"
“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.
“But I’m-”
“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”
“I wasn’t ask-”
“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.
“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"
You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.
All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.
“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)
“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.
Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.
"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.
"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."
"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.
He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.
"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.
"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.
Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.
But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.
“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-
“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”
“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”
“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”
"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.
"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."
"I…you…I have to do affirmations."
"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.
"Again."
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
"Again!"
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ghost?"
"Simon?"
"Please."
"Why are you not coming for me?"
just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,
anyways I hope you liked it!!!!
398 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 2 months
Text
Hockey au my light my love. The most chaotic boys. The Goon squad. The bane of coach Price's existence.
"Just talk to 'er mate," Soap nudges Ghost's shoulder. Poor guy has been staring you down all night, glaring like you walked in with his brother.
"What am I s'pposed ta say," Ghost grumbles over the lip of his beer. His eyes hardly budge from staring, watching you like a hawk as you laugh with your friends.
"Oh use a pickup line," Gaz chimes in, leaning around Soap at the bar.
"Good on ya Gaz," Soap pats the man on his shoulder in agreement before turning back to Ghost, "pickup line breaks the ice, get 'er to laugh and youre in."
"You're not suppose to break the ice," Ghost turns to look at his teammates. Soap groans, Gaz snorts, taking a sip of his drink.
"Go up to her and say something hockey like," Gaz chews his lip, thinking, "you should get two minutes for tripping, because I just fell for you."
"That's a good one," Soap says, almost surprised, smacking his hand against Gaz's chest.
"I know," Gaz boasts, sipping his beer.
"Got a better one though," Soap grins.
"Let's hear it," Gaz tips his head, yielding the proverbial floor.
"You want my sweater? 'Cause I think you need my name and number."
"Pretty good," Gaz nods, "how about this one-"
Ghost stands from his seat as Soap and Gaz go back and forth. Pickup line, he can do that, that's easy. He's good looking, he can talk to pretty people in bars. He stops next to your table and watches you turn to look up at him, your smile good natured and your brow raised in question. He stares at you a moment longer, God you're pretty. Prettier up close, he can't take his eyes off the sparkle in your eyes or the crooked tilt of your lips. You're waiting on him to say something, you deserve something good for putting up with his staring.
"Hi," he starts and your smile grows a little wider and everything flies out of his head, "I'm Simon, I'm a goalie."
"You play for the 141 right?" You ask, grabbing your drink to take a sip. It's something dark on ice, it tips in the glass like bourbon. Ghost nods. "You've got a .9 save percentage."
".921," Ghost corrects, "and six shut outs."
You set your drink back on the table and grab your jacket, Ghost doesn't move when you stand, even if it means you nearly bump into him. He wouldn't be mad if you did. He's hoping for it actually.
"You should take me home," you tell him, and Ghost wastes no time settling a big hand on the small of your back to lead you out into the cool night air.
He only realizes the mistake he made in the morning when you shake him awake the next morning and tell him, "We have practice at six, get your ass up."
Ghost groans and cracks his eyes open to stare at you, half asleep. "We?" He asks, not sure what you have to do with him or his practice schedule.
"New team manager nice to meet you," you pat his cheek and roll out of bed, "get your ass up Riley, we got a long day ahead of us."
Ghost sits up, watches you fish around on the floor for your underwear and tries to make the cogs in his head turn the right way. He's gotta stop getting into fights, he thought you said team manager. That- he'd know if you were his manager. He knows the team manager.
You toss a tee at him with a 'what are you doing?' look, "hell are you sitting around for ya fuckin' muppet? You got practice."
Ghost grabs the tee and tugs it over his head with a grumbled swear. You better stop yelling at him or he's gonna fall in love with you.
638 notes · View notes
simonrillleyyysss · 5 months
Note
Hey hope you’re doing well, saw your asks were open and couldn’t resist as I really enjoy your work. I’d love to read your thoughts on sleepy cockwarming with Simon with a cutesy little fem reader
🖤
keisoskkskdkf i love him!!
Tumblr media
nestled in the bed, his fingers tapping at the keys on the laptop—brows naturally furrowed and lips curved into a small scowl; concentration completely fixated on the task at hand, long legs stretched out, feet crossed; half asleep.
meanwhile, you were resting your head on the males large shoulder!! hand curled around his bicep, lips parted as you inhaled and exhaled softly, eyes fluttering open to meet his.
‘si..’
‘siii…’
‘sssiii?’
‘..mhhh? what is it?’
he asked, looking over at you; your hair messy and shirt hanging off of your shoulders, pyjama bottoms hanging just by the bumps of your hips, kissing his stubbly jaw lazily!! batting your lashes at the fair-haired man, his hand moving to grope at your thigh.
‘m’cold..’
‘let me warm y’up—yeah?’
wasn’t long before he was tugging down your panties, gently rolling you onto your side; pumping his thick cock a few times, before tentatively sliding inside your slick cunt; stopping once you were full to the brim, arms draping around your cozy frame—huffing into ur neck!!!
so, so gentle—letting your head sink into the pillow; caressing your tits with his freehand,his other gently combing your hair out of your face.
10/10. best experience
981 notes · View notes
a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year
Text
Wild Horses
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Doctor!Reader, Soap x Reader Part 2
Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4
Tumblr media
A/N: Y’all have asked and y’all have received. Enjoy! Let me know what you guys think, I always love to hear your thoughts! Reblogs are much appreciated! 😊💜
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings: language, fluff, angst. This one might be a little sad and Ghost is a bit of an ass-jerk so be prepared.
Tumblr media
As mentioned before, Ghost completely stays clear of your vicinity after stepping out of your office. It’s not that he hates you. He’s just slightly irritated. With himself? Or is it you and that pretty face of yours and your comforting voice and your goddamn politeness and your accent. To be honest, the whole team adores your accent. He can’t tell. Remind you, this is a man who has probably never been shown any affection or tenderness so don't expect him to fall for you on the spot. This man needs therapy, like a lot of therapy. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to go through whatever it is he is feeling, finding the whole thing to be an inconvenience really. And because he doesn't know how to understand or face whatever these emotions are, he just buries it. It's easier for him that way.
Poor dude couldn’t even sleep last night, staring at the ceiling of his room and haunted by the idea that he accidentally offended you. This man may have a cold exterior but your scalpels are colder and sharper than the devil's jawline. He almost couldn’t blame you if you decided to inject some foreign substance into his bloodstream and make the whole thing look like it was a stroke. Wait, could you do that? Bloody fucking hell. This man spends too much time with his thoughts I swear.
The man spends the whole night trying to assess his feelings, or rather his attraction towards you, convinces himself you're just another pretty face. The man may be touch-starved but he knows there are other methods to handle his needs, even though it's been a long time since he's slept with a woman, like a really long time. But even then, that situation was different. There was never any intimacy involved, like a quick business transaction that finished just as quickly as it started. It only left him feeling as empty as he was before. Not to mention, he doesn't do well with human interaction and that one and only moment he had with a woman daunted him more than it needed to, and so he has remained abstinent ever since. And if he were being honest with himself, you're just a distraction. And how do you handle distractions? You steer clear of them.
So what does this man do? He does what he intended to do. He avoids you at all costs. Oh, is that you walking towards their small, makeshift kitchen to fix yourself a bagel in the morning? Guess what, he’s doing a full 180 and lurking behind a wall like Michael Myers and his stupid hedge, waiting until you’re finished so he can make himself his morning tea.
Not only that but he makes sure to take extra good care of himself, Vitamin C supplements or multivitamins, whatever it takes to keep himself in best health. He even looks up on Google for extra tips to prevent himself from having to send himself in. He had heard of the saying “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” and goes out of his way to buy an apple during his morning runs. But the poor chap has it all mixed up because when you walk into your office the next morning, you're surprised to see an apple just sitting there on your desk.
Ghost doesn't know that it's supposed to be the other way around and that the apple is actually supposed to be for himself. He doesn't bother to search up the meaning, nor does anyone bother to tell him because they don't even know that he's doing it in the first place. So every morning he goes on his run, he goes out and buys an apple, and so every morning you find one placed on your desk.
The first time you saw the fruit sitting there on the table where you worked, surrounded by your scattered paperwork, you were confused no doubt. You picked it up curiously in your hand, inspecting the bright red fruit before giving a shrug and biting into it, after you wash it of course. You think it's just a small little token of thanks from one of the men. Possibly Soap considering how flirty he was yesterday. Alejandro doesn't seem like the type to give fruits. He's more of a red rose and a bottle of wine kind of man.
But as days go by, each day you find an apple sitting on your desk. And as thoughtful as this gesture is, at this point, considering the amount of apples you've eaten, you're either going to have serious digestive issues or die of cyanide poisoning, as if you don't already have IBS. So what do you do? You start to collect the apples each morning, deciding to throw in your own twist to this gesture until one evening, the men come back from one of their missions to find a freshly baked apple pie and a stack of paper plates and some utensils sitting out on a table for them, including a small little card with the handwritten words "bone apple tea". What in the hell.
"What in the fucks is bone apple tea." Gaz scrunches his nose at the writing on the little card.
They're all standing around at the table staring at the pie with confusion written across their faces. All except Ghost of course, the way his eyes slightly widen once he sees it. His gut is telling him you're behind it. Hm I wonder what gave it away.
"What’s this?" Alejandro asks, tilting his head at the thing.
"Looks like apple pie." Gaz answers.
"Yes I know that." Alejandro remarks. “But what is it doing here?"
"Doubt it's from any one of you muppets." Price speaks up. He knows damn well none of these men know how to bake. There’s only one person here whose hands are skilled or nimble enough to make the braided trim on that crust. Not to mention the detailing in the center, like the way you carefully placed little leaf designs made from the crust on top of the braided design. Yup this was definitely you, unless someone else here had a secret talent they had been hiding.
Literally why are these men acting like the pie has poison it. As if Graves sent it or something. Just shut up and eat the pie before it gets cold you himbos.
"So who made it?" Soap asks, looking towards the others for answers.
"This," Alejandro chuckles after finally realizing, "this was made by the hands of a woman."
"Who, y/n?" Gaz quirks a brow, you're the only woman here.
How in the hell did you get the means to bake a complete fucking apple pie in a place like this? They always heard doctors have skilled and steady hands but what the actual fuck.
"Well don't mind me." Soap literally cuts a big ass slice for himself before going off to devour the thing.
The boys watch Soap basically almost moan once he takes a bite of your pie as he goes off yelling out something along the lines of "well tidy scran", before helping themselves to a slice.
Ghost is the last one to cut himself a slice. He was hesitant at first before finally giving in, plus he also got back from a mission and he's hungry. So when he digs in his fork and has his first taste, it's kinda like that scene from Ratatouille where the food critic Anton Ego finally takes a bite of Remy's food and is reminded of his childhood, except Ghost doesn't have a childhood.
Let me tell you these men are obsessed with your pie and are practically fighting over the last slice like a pair of siblings so don't be surprised when you wake up the next morning to the see that the plate that your pie was in is completely empty without a single crumb in sight. Jesus. Did they lick the table down too?
Also I think you may have just given Ghost a newfound sweet tooth. When he went back to his room that night, he's debating on whether he should keep his daily routine of giving you apples, so far it’s kept you away. What he doesn’t get is that you made a whole damn pie out of the apples he gave you when they were actually supposed to be for you, or him, if you look at it from his distorted perception. But wait. What if you know it's him, and that's why you made the pie in the first place? A way to a man’s heart is not only between the forth and fifth ribs, but it’s also through his stomach. And as much as he wants to deny it, he also kind of secretly wants you to bake another one. It's almost as if he's completely forgotten why he placed those apples on your desk in the first place.
So what do you see when you wake up the next morning? An empty plate and yet another apple sitting on your desk. Okay what the fuck. You've let it slide all those times but now you have got to know who's pulling this shit. It’s not that you hate apples, but the conception that you have no clue who’s behind this is making you start to view the poor defenseless fruit as an object of taunting and torment. And to be honest at this point, you're beginning to think this is some kind of joke. So with the apple in your hand, you head towards the common area where the others are currently settled.
“Okay who did it?” You call out once you enter the area.
Crickets chirping.
All heads snap towards you to see you standing there with an apple held in your hand. They're almost stunned to see you wandering about. They rarely ever see you since you're usually locked up in your office or your room.
The men have done a lot of shit so just what is it that are you asking. They stare at you with not a single thought behind their eyes, that is until their blood runs cold at what happened last night. Was the pie not meant for them? Shit.
“Did what?” Gaz gulps, trying to play it off as nothing happened.
"Who keeps leaving apples on my desk like I'm about to host a county fair?"
"Come again?" Price asks, not that he didn't hear you, but it's probably the most anyone has heard you speak that isn't related to your work. Not only that, but they’re so used to hearing your “doctor” voice that your normal voice is a whole pitch lower and almost sounds foreign and alien to their ears. Not that they’re complaining because they honestly love hearing it.
"Someone has been leaving apples on my desk every single day." You repeat yourself more slowly. "And I'd like to know who."
So you're not mad about the pie.
Ghost immediately snaps his head away from your direction and nearly chokes on his tea. It's almost a miracle he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns away.
The others are still staring at you, a tad bit scared of the expression that sat on your face. They couldn't make out if you were upset or not.
"Well?" You ask, leaning against the doorframe with your hand stuffed in your coat pocket while your other hand tossed the apple about in the air.
"Couldn't be me." Soap answers.
The others shake their heads as you squint your eyes at each and every one of them, trying to decipher the culprit. "Whoever it is, I will find out." You take a bite out of the apple before tossing it to the nearest person, who happened to be Alejandro, before starting to leave the area.
Alejandro catches the apple between his hands, staring down at the fruit with a chuckle to see where you had bit into it before taking a bite of his own.
Soap can't help but clench his jaw at Alejandro's cockiness. Ghost just turns away unbothered, it’s none of his concern. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.
"Wait you're not mad about the pie?" Gaz calls out after you.
"What pie?" You turn back.
Wot
"The pie....from last night."
"I have no clue what you're talking about." You put on your best innocent expression before walking away.
The men snap their heads towards each other. Have they been poisoned? The longer they stare at each other, the more panicked they get.
Alejandro glances down at the apple you had thrown in his hands and is so close to spitting out the bite he had taken.
"I'm kidding." Your voice nearly makes them jump out of their skin as they turn to see your head popped through the doorway. "The pie was from me." You walk away again before turning back around. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have your blood results so if you're free, come see me when you get the chance."
Shit. Ghost thinks to himself after hearing you mention the blood results. He is hoping his blood sample got demolished in some shape or form, but the way you didn't even try to pull him aside to break the "unfortunate" news tells him otherwise. He's just not going to show.
The men watch you walk away in silence after your little moment of humor. They almost don't know how to react. The way the warmth of your voice blended with the obscurity of your words threw them in for a loop.
All except Ghost have no clue who has been sending you apples, but whoever it is that is sending you the fruit, they think that person is trying to win you over. So what started out as some misunderstanding on Ghost's end has now turned into this whole peacocking ordeal. Now it's a competition of who gets you better gifts in order to gain your affection, mainly Soap and Alejandro and even Gaz, but mostly Soap. Price still shows you appreciation for your work and what you do in his own way.
Poor Ghost was just trying to manifest "an apple a day keeps the doctor away". So who’s gonna tell him?
Anyways, when you return to your office to work on your paperwork, the boys go out to get you a little something before meeting up with you to go over their bloodwork results. Despite Soap and Gaz's efforts, Alejandro is the first to leave and the first to return. And just as Soap returns with his little gift for you, Alejandro beats him to it, a smirk playing on his lips as he enters your office with a red rose in hand. Poor Gaz wasn't able to find you anything special so he gets you a cool looking rock he saw instead.
Soap is practically fuming. If you squint hard enough, you might see smoke coming out his ears.
You hear a knock on your door and look up from where you sat at your desk to see Alejandro stepping into your office, a sly smirk on his lips as he holds out a rose.
"Alejandro." You quirk a brow. "What's this?"
"For you, hermosa."
"Oh?" You cock your head back in surprise as you take the rose from his hands. "What for?"
"Oh just a little way of showing appreciation." Alejandro leans against your desk.
"Why thank you Alejandro" You blink, trying your best to push down the blush that tries to creep itself onto your cheeks.
"My pleasure."
You decide to place the flower inside the empty vase you had already set out from before when you moved your things in. "I had been meaning to get some flowers to brighten up the area."
"There's no need" Alejandro smirks. "I'm afraid the rose doesn't compare to you. You do that all on your own."
Little do you know Soap is listening in on the whole thing with a frown. If he pressed his ear any closer he'd fall right through the door. Sure the Scots have their special charm but Alejandro is different and has the most rizz out of all of them, and Soap is fully aware and has always heard they make better lovers and that only adds to his panic.
Now you're definitely not able to hide the heat that spread through your face. You can't tell if it's the state of being flustered or just social anxiety. Well they weren't wrong about Alejandro having a way with words. "Geez, thank you Alejandro. But there really is no need for flattery."
"For you, anything hermosa."
Omfg this dude.
You look away from his strong gaze, managing to shove your flustered state away and stopping yourself from releasing the sharp wit you inherited from your father. Clearing your throat, you open up his file. "Well that really is kind of you Alejandro. And since you are already here, I have the results from your blood work."
"Oh? Everything should be good yes?"
"Well yes, for the most part but-"
"But what?" Alejandro looks confused. What's wrong with his blood?
"Your cholesterol levels are pretty high." You open up his file and read over his results.
"They are?"
"I'm afraid so, but not at a dangerous level. You should probably cut out some of that fried food and red meat and watch your butter intake. Nothing too serious though. Add some greens into your diet, as well as some nuts and whole grains and definitely more fruits and veggies and you're good to go." You hand him a copy of his results before giving a look of grimace. "But watch out on the fiber though. Too much of it can lead to increased bowel movements."
"Increased what?"
"You know, a case of the shits."
The way Soap pulls his ear away from the door and slaps his palm on mouth to keep himself from letting out the most offensive laugh known to mankind. If only you could have seen it. Is he going to bring this up in Alejandro's presence? Maybe.
Alejandro looks over the papers you gave him. "Wait really?"
"Yeeaaah." You give the poor fellow a sympathetic smile. "But hey, everything you need to know is right on those papers, so as long as you cut out the foods mentioned and get a higher intake of the others listed, you'll be back to normal in no time."
"Oh uh. Thank you y/n. I appreciate it."
"Anytime Alejandro." You smile. "You know where to find me."
The way Soap nearly trips over himself as he backs away from the door after hearing footsteps, as if he wasn't eavesdropping on every thing.
Alejandro opens the door and walks out of your office, eyes glued to the papers while Soap is just standing there trying not to be noticed.
The moment Alejandro is out of sight, Soap goes over and knocks on your door.
"Come in." You look up and smile to see Soap. Over the course of the few days since you first arrived here, you were to quick to warm up to the young Scotsman, finding comfort and humor in his personality. You enjoyed hearing him talk about just about anything, and his accent always helped to make whatever he had to say all the more interesting. It really is a good thing he does most of the talking since you make a better listener and love to hear what others have to say.
Soap knows you don't talk much and how you prefer to listen and hear stories, so he always makes sure to keep you entertained. This man is 100% golden retriever energy. Also he calls you lass and lassie and you just eat that shit up, he loves how you blush and that small restrained smile appears on your face whenever he says it. Don't worry, so would I. "Soap! You can have a seat if you want, this will be brief."
"Oh uh, I've actually got you something." Soap hands you a small box.
"Oh?" You quirk a brow as you take the box from his hands? What is it with everyone giving you gifts? Are they in on something you're not? "What is it?" You ask as you open the small box to see a bunch of what looks to be biscuits.
"Scottish shortbread." Soap smiles, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "I brought them along with me from back home but I thought you'd like them with your morning coffee."
"Wait, are you sure you don't want them for yourself? I feel bad."
"Nah. I can always get more.......if-when I go back home. You keep em. It's for ya. Think of it as a welcoming gift.....for all ya done, and the pie ya made for us."
"Soap, I don't know what to say." You give the man a heartfelt smile. "Thank you.....really, it's very thoughtful of you. It'll give me a variety from my bagels."
"Don' mention it." Soap places his hands behind his back before noticing a small framed picture you had set up on your desk that definitely wasn't there before. "Is that you?"
"Hm?" You raise you brow to see what he is referring to and seeing him gesture to the photo.
"Oh. Yeah, that's me as a little girl." You glance at the photo as a soft smile appears on your face. It was a picture of you when you were a little girl around the age of 5, when your dad took you on a camping trip to Zion. The two of you were sitting near the tent he had set up overlooking the mountain range with you sitting in his arms while he played his guitar, wearing that same old baseball cap of his that you had grown accustomed to seeing as you grew up. The longer you looked at the picture and relived that core memory, glancing at the crooked grin that sat on your little face and the way your father beamed, the more your face began to match the fond look that radiated off your father's eyes as he looked down at your giggling state.
"That's quite the smile you got there." Soap teases, chuckling at the expression you held in the photo.
"Oh please." You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he was joking about. "I know I looked goofy. My baby teeth were falling out."
"And that's yer dad?"
"Yup. That's my old man."
"Ya have yer father's eyes." Soap smiles at you, knowing now where you inherited that certain warmth held in your eyes that was able to put the coldest man at ease by just one look.
You let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at the ground to blink away the tears that have yet to form before looking back up at the soldier. "I've been told."
"Where was this taken? The scenery is absolutely braw."
"That was taken at Zion National Park in Utah. My dad had taken me there on a camping trip."
"It's absolutely gorgeous."
"Maybe I'll take you one day."
"Ya mean it?" Soap turns towards you, a grin forming on his face.
"Why not? It's been a while since I went, not since the photo."
"I think you've just made my day lass." Soap smirks before turning to the other photo. "And I'm guessing that's you as well." Soap gestures to the other photo of you around your middle school years that your dad had taken of you, wearing a wet suit as you sat on your surfboard, a grin on your face and your hair matted with salt water while one of your hands formed the shaka sign. "I dinnae ken you surfed."
"Oh yeah, surfing was my life. This was back when I had caught my first wave in Hawaii. My dad was so proud. Took me out for shaved ice right after and couldn't stop bragging to everyone there about how effortlessly I had tube ridden that thing."
"Your dad sounds like a great man."
"The best."
Soap notices the way your smile ever so slightly dropped at one of the corners, as if some sadness had managed to overcome whatever memories that lied in your head so he clears his throat, deciding not to press on the subject any better. "So how does my blood look?"
"Good actually." You blink, his statement reminding you of what you were going to do since he stepped into your office in the first place. "Your levels are all pretty balanced." You hand him a copy of his results. "As for the muscle cramps you mentioned, try to get a higher intake of electrolytes like potassium, magnesium, and calcium. And most importantly, don't forget to stay hydrated and drink lots of water."
"Aye ma'am. I'll make sure of it."
"Thank you Soap."
"No, thank you." Soap gives you one last smile before heading out. "I'll see you around."
"Bye."
It was not long after Soap left that Gaz entered next followed by Price, hearing you go over their results with intent ears. You actually really loved the little rock Gaz had given you, he had even drawn a smiley face on for you. You thought it was really cute despite his embarrassment in not finding you something better. And after the two left, there was only one person left that had yet to show up at your door. Simon 'Ghost' Riley.
Not wanting to pressure the man who looks like he'd stab you for looking at him the wrong way, you decided to stay at your desk, working over some paperwork of your own until the time comes when he decides to show up whenever he sees comfortable.
Picking up your mug, you decide to get some more coffee, leaving your office and heading to the kitchen area to brew yourself a new cup. Looking up from your feet, you see Ghost walking walking in your direction in front of you.
"Ghost!" You call out to him, or as much as you can call out. You never were one for raising your voice, despite the many times your previous teachers had urged you to speak up, displeased with the way you preferred to keep to yourself as opposed to your more extroverted peers. But even when carrying out their commands to speak louder, you always hated doing so, thinking it drew too much attention towards you. It's a wonder you got through med school and became a doctor in the first place.
Ghost had heard you calling out his name and immediately his muscles tense. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him because that only meant one thing, being dragged into your office to go over his blood results until something else insulting slips from his lips. I promise he doesn't hate your guts! So in order to evade you, this man does the first thing that comes to mind, he walks straight into the nearest room, which just so happens to be the shared showers. Simon you dumb fuck. Let’s hope Price isn’t butt ass naked in there for Simon’s sake.
You blink, standing there with your mug that your friend from college thought would be funny to gift you when you started med school, the one that had the words "I have a PHD" in bold colorful letters with the finer print "pretty huge dick" right below it (of course you never used that mug back at the hospital or else you'd hear about it).
So with your mug in hand, you watch the masked man walk straight into the room where the shared showers were. Huh. Well that's weird. You try to give the man the benefit of the doubt, thinking he just did not hear you. Maybe he'll stop by later. So shrugging off what just happened, you head into the kitchen to make yourself a fresh cup of coffee. God an iced coffee sounds good right now.
Once you had headed back to your office, finishing up your work and taking little breaks in between to read your book or snack on something, an hour turned into two, and so forth. Until you looked at your clock and it was already past the time of sunset. Jesus. Where did this dude go? Getting up from your chair, you step out of your office, holding the door open and seeing not a single soul headed in your direction. What in the-
With furrowed brows, you step back into your office, staring down at Ghost's results that just sat there waiting to be picked up.
"Goddamn it." You hiss between your teeth. You have no idea what his issue is or why he avoids you as if you spit in his fruit loops or tea or whatever. But if he keeps this up, it could interfere with your own job. Looking around at your desk, an idea pops into your head as you grab two things that lied there, a sticky note and a two dum-dum lollipops, a sugar cookie flavor and a butterscotch one.
Heading out of your office, you head towards where the men's rooms are located before stopping at a certain particular one, surveying the area around you to make sure no one sees you before staring straight at the door in front of you. Taking out your pen, you write on the note "please stop by my office when you get a chance", making sure to add your initials in the corner before taping it to his door along with the two lollipops, hoping the candy will be some sort of bribe.
"God I hope this works and he doesn't shoot me in the head." You mutter out before heading back to your own quarters that was separate from the men's due to standard protocol. Throwing off your coat and your clothes, you threw on an oversized t-shirt and some sweats, eating a microwaveable dinner in your own room before getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing you craved more than to collapse onto the mattress and bury yourself under the covers. And as you finished brushing your teeth, turning off the lights and getting into a comfortable position under your blanket, all you could do was stare at the ceiling above you.
Little did you know, that same night, in that same moment, there was another who could not sleep, staring at the ceiling as you did now. He had saw the note that you had left him on his door, as well as the two lollipops. It almost annoyed him, whatever it was you were showing towards him. And it did not help that the note had smelled of you, of that perfume that oh so enriched his senses. The man literally has your note laying on top of his bedside table along with the lollipops. He'll throw it out first thing tomorrow he tells himself.
"Oh come the fuck on." You moaned as you turned over onto your side but to no avail. No matter how hard you tried to shut your eyes and shut out any thoughts that attempted at keeping you awake, you just could not fall asleep until you finally give up. "Jesus fuck shit fuck." You hiss to yourself as you throw the blanket off you, sitting up on your bed and throwing on your sweatpants before getting up. Usually on nights like this where you couldn't sleep, you'd find a way to calm your nerves, whether it be reading or drawing or listening to a comforting audiobook.
So, grabbing your pillow and blanket, you open up your closet and grab your father's acoustic guitar, going back over to your bed and staring at the framed photo of your dad that sat on the bedside table before taking that with you as well. Leaving your room, you make sure to be as quiet as possible, looking both ways before heading up towards the roof of the building.
When you were little and had trouble sleeping, your dad used to take you outside to where the two of you had built a little fort, where the two of you would lay under the stars, brushed over by the cool night breeze as he played his guitar, singing old folk and slow classic rock songs until you finally fell asleep. And as you stepped onto the roof, craning your neck to stare up at the stars above you, you were reminded of those moments and the peace it gave you. Setting your bedding down, you prop the picture of your dad up next to you before sitting down with the guitar in hand.
"Hey dad." Your voice is a whisper as you look down at the photo of your father beside you. The photo was taken not even a month after you were born. He had taken you to the fire station he was stationed at, excited to introduce his team to his new precious baby girl, his first child. You could almost say it was your favorite photo of him, sitting on the front bumper of the firetruck in his uniform with you bundled up in a pink blanket in his arms.
"I know it's been a bit of a while since we've last talked." You sigh, forming your fingers into a chord on the fretboard of the guitar. "So to make up for it, I'm going to sing you one of the songs I always used to sing. You know the one, it's one of my favorites, and yours too."
Despite his efforts to fall asleep, Simon had ended up stepping out of his room, walking about the grounds to somewhat ease his mind. This was obviously nothing new to him, he always had trouble sleeping. And during those nights he had trouble sleeping, he'd take a walk to help clear his head. He found comfort in the silence of the night, when everything and everyone was asleep. He would usually go to his favorite spot on the rooftop, where he would seek refuge under the obsidian skies and the silver stars.
As he goes up the stairs that lead up to the roof, he stops at the sound that comes from beyond the door, what sounds to be someone singing and strumming the guitar. Curious to know who the hell had taken his spot and had the radio playing, he goes up further to investigate. So imagine his surprise when he finds you there instead, wrapped up in your blanket and strumming against your guitar, singing The Sundays cover of Wild Horses.
"Childhood living is easy to do The things that you wanted, I bought them for you Graceless lady, you know who I am You know I can't let you slide through my hands" Your voice is ethereal as you sing out the lyrics, your face molded into these deep emotions you can't quite explain.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild horses couldn't drag me away
I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain And now you've decided to show me the same No sweeping exits or offstage lines Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
Faith has been broken and tears must be cried Let's do some living after we die
Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday."
During the entirety of the song, Simon stands there in the distance behind you, hidden in the shadows, entranced, and can't seem to explain the tingles he feels washing over his body. He thinks he has intruded upon you and wants to leave you to your solitude in what seems to be an intimate moment for you, and yet he can't seem to be able to get his feet to move. Instead he's watching you with this newfound interest. He had never expected you to play the guitar as you did, nor have the voice that you did. So as you finish your song, he almost trips over his own feet trying to back away, scared that you might somehow notice that he had been there this whole time.
"God I miss you dad." You wipe away at the tears that start to spill down your cheeks despite your attempts to wipe them away with the back of your sleeve, scanning your eyes over the stars that scattered across the sky, imagining he was up there amongst them. "I miss you so much."
Regaining his footing, Ghost is careful to open the door leading back into the building, that is until he hears you let out what sounds to be a choked sob. He turns his head back towards you, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest as you cry out, mumbling something he can't quite understand. With his hand still holding the door open, he looks down at the set of stairs, turning his head back towards you for one more time before going down the steps, being careful to shut the door without any noise possible.
Part 3
Tags: @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @joceymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @marvelmysterywoman @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @nananarc @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff
4K notes · View notes