#johnny mactavish x wife!reader

[barrackspredator]

Boyfriend!Soap who just loves his girlfriend. Carries a photo of you with him in his wallet. Also, has a photo of you in a heart frame on his office desk on base.

“Yeah, this is my wife 😼”

Some of his coworkers on base genuinely believe you two are married. No ring, no ceremony, but spiritually Soap is devoted to his missus MacTavish.

Bonus: a rookie was crying over his girlfriend breaking up with him, so in turn Soap did what he does

“Awww man, that’s tuff… my wifey would never!”

[princessdimondheart]

Tells | Ghost x Secret Wife! Reader

Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader

Warnings: blood, wounds, pregnancy, 🥺

Edited: No

A/N: I really wanted to do my own take on this idea. Hope you like it.

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Johnny wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it before, after being introduced to his Lieutenant’s wife. There were small, subtle tells that gave away Ghost having a significant other, but he never put the pieces together. Honestly, Johnny was a little upset because he’s in the SAS- he should be able to see things like this. 

The first time he noticed something was strange with Simon was when they were gathering their gear right before going to another mission. They were placing the last of their equipment into their bags. Simon had not put his black skeleton gloves on yet so his wrists were exposed. Johnny didn’t notice anything different until Simon rolled up his sleeves like usual. And there it was. 

A hair tie. 

He didn’t think much about it. Maybe he found it laying around the base. No. That would be weird and there weren’t that many women frequenting the same places as Simon anyways. 

Could he be using it to snap at his wrist when or if he got anxious? Nah.. Ghost stays focused on missions. Johnny doubted Ghost would let anxiety pull a fast one on him in the field. 

Oh! Simon is definitely growing his hair out. Johnny wondered if his balaclava was comfortable with long hair. So he pointed it out. 

“Growing your hair out L.t.?” His lips curled into a little smirk. 

Simon looked up from the full magazine in his hands. Only his eyes gave away his confusion. “No? Why?”

“Your hair tie.” Johnny nodded to his right wrist. “Never took ya for a purple-wearin’ kind of guy, sir.”

Ghost blinked at his Sergeant and then glanced to his aforementioned wrist. Sure enough a bold purple hair tie was bound to his lower arm. Simon was sure he had removed it before leaving home earlier that day. 

“Oh… must have forgot.” Simon spoke absentmindedly. He was remembering his wife. He had gotten home before her and when she came he helped her remove her ponytail, completely forgetting about the hair tie once their kisses got the better of them. 

Simon didn’t say anything else, so Johnny shrugged it off and continued filling his bag with ammunition. Not even two minutes after he forgot what they were talking about when Captain Price called them over. 

~~~~~

The next time something was different with Ghost, Johnny wasn’t even the one who noticed it first. It was Gaz who pointed it out. 

After a long and hard mission, Task Force 141 had finally arrived at base. The team desperately needed showers, so right after hoping off the helicopter everyone went straight to their barracks. 

After their most loved showers everyone went to the mess hall for some real food and not the field MREs they had been eating for the past few weeks. There Kyle had already gotten his portion of food and was digging in. Soap and Price were sitting across from him too, but no Ghost in sight. Simon came in almost halfway through their dinner and sat next to the young Sergeant. The food on his tray was not being eaten. 

That’s when Kyle smelled it. A fruity smell was wafting from the freshly showered SAS powerhouse next to him. Ghost smelled of fresh cut pomegranates and some other fruit notes. It took him by surprise. Kyle would have normally pictured Ghost as a strict standard-issue soap kinda user, not a fruity one. 

“Did they change the regular soaps, sir?” Gaz took the risk. 

Johnny had finished chewing and looked up at his L.t. and Kyle with a questioning look. Then he leaned forward on the table to take a sniff. 

“Is that pomegranate, L.t.?” Johnny chuckled. He’d take any chance to tease his superior. 

Ghost gave them a subtle glare. He had hoped no one would have noticed his mistake. He’d been in a hurry to leave home and well…

“I grabbed the wrong bottle.” He deadpanned then turned to Price, who was shaking his head in disapproval at the two, to ask about any new leads. Clearly, the conversation was over. 

~~~~~

The third time was when their mission went FUBAR. Ghost and Soap had gotten separated from Captain Price and Gaz when their enemies tried to ambush them. In the chaos Soap was shot in the leg, but with Ghost’s help, he was able to escape and hold out until it was safe enough for them to head to the rendezvous point for extraction. 

Now that they were relatively safe, Ghost was searching his packs for supplies to help Johnny with. Johnny wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to what he was doing since he was bleeding out and moaning in pain, but he definitely noticed when Ghost used a tampon to plug the gunshot wound in his thigh. 

“Fuckin’ hells, Ghost! Where’da fuck yous get a bloody tampon from!?”

“It’s an essential tool for survival.” He honestly had no idea how that slipped into his med pouch. Johnny guessed it was so if Ghost had said it. 

~~~~~

Next time they were somewhere in Africa, most definitely melting with the heat. A great bonding experience for the two of them. Their only relief was a slow moving breeze. Soap and Ghost were staking out one of a known terrorist cell’s many compounds. All was quiet for now. 

“Johnny?” Ghost didn’t move from his position, eyes dead on his scope. 

Johnny looked over. “Yeah, L.t.?”

“Once we’re done here, I’m taking you somewhere important. Keep your schedule clear.” Simon’s deep voice sounded out softly. 

“Oh… alright.” He didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Definitely, Simon.” 

He looked back towards the compound. Simon had glanced at that moment to see his little smile. His eyes crinkled. 

~~~~~

True to his word, after their stakeout mission was completed, Simon hauled Johnny into his car and began to drive them to who knows where. All Johnny knew was that the drive took several hours from their base in London to wherever they were in the countryside. 

They were nearly at their destination when Simon pulled them into a long driveway and pressed a button controller on his shade that opened the metal gates. Going through, the road was surrounded by open pastures on both sides. When Johnny looked around more closely he noticed a few horses, and, was that a cow? They were grazing on the lush grass. Was his L.t. taking him to a farm?

“Where are we, sir?” He had to ask. 

“You’ll see, Johnny.” Simon had slowed down so as to not spook any of the animals grazing. 

Two minutes later and the car pulled up to a nice two-story cottage home. It was made from stone and appeared to be like a fairy tale type of house. Johnny quite liked the look of it. He noticed that the lights were on. 

Simon opened the locked door, then took off his skull balaclava. It was clear that he was comfortable enough to forego it. “I called ahead, so dinner should be ready soon.”

Dinner? Who’s made them dinner? Johnny didn’t question him and just nodded. Simon stepped inside, none of the wooden boards squeaked when he walked in them unlike when Johnny stepped on them. His steps alerted the person in the kitchen. A delicious smell was coming out in soft waves. The person poked their head out to see who was there. They weren’t worried because they knew that only Simon had the extra key. 

“I’m home.” Johnny noticed a softness in his voice that he hadn’t heard before. Simon’s large frame was blocking his view of the person. A dog suddenly burst from the kitchen barking at Simon before realizing who he was. It sat down when he started to pet him, his butt wiggling with the fast beat of his tail. Cute. Then the dog, a German shepherd, turned to him and started sniffing him with caution. Johnny let him sniff his hand and after a bit he licked his hand and wagged his tail. Approved. 

“Welcome home, Simon!” The person’s voice was distinctly feminine. Johnny had moved closer to Simon and the kitchen, so when the woman fully came into view he saw her right away. 

She went in for a hug and that’s when Johnny noticed a small, yet significant distance between the two. She was pregnant and her baby belly was making it a little harder to hug her. But that didn’t stop Simon from embracing her as tightly as he could. When her hand came up to rest against Simon’s shoulder, Johnny noticed again the large diamond on her ring finger. 

“L.t.?” The two lovers separated to look at him. 

“Johnny, come meet my wife.” Simon gave him a knowing nod which Johnny instantly returned. 

He almost couldn’t believe it. His L.t. had brought him home to see his little family. Johnny almost choked up upon realizing the significance of Simon trusting him with this information. Right then and there, Johnny gave Simon a mental promise to help keep his family safe, no matter what.

Bonus: 

“Oh! The baby is kicking! Want to feel ‘em, Johnny?” Simon’s wife asked. 

“Oh, sure! If that’s alright with you?” She took his larger hand in answer and placed it near the top of her baby bump. A few kicks hit his hand. They were rather strong kicks too. Definitely a football star, or another SAS kid, in the making. 

“Woah!” Johnny exclaimed. Then, turning to his L.t. who was watching them interact, his mouth turned into a wide grin. “Does that make me their uncle, Simon?”

“Don’t push it, MacTavish.” His wife giggled. 

Masterlist

[porkcutletbowl44]

(if things ended differently in the campaign)

After Johnny's brain surgery he gets to go home for awhile with his amazing wife, pampered like he's never had before, homemade food when he wants, a hand to hold at the neurologist and other brain expert appointments.

Perfect life, having his Bonnie lass help him remember basic things like the date and time 10 minutes ago, remembering basic recipes, yours and his birthday, anniversaries, filling the gaps in his memories by whipping out the old photo album (and helping him tear his shit apart in the house to find his naughty Polaroids of you because he never told you the hiding spot for them before he lost most of his memories)

And then the psychologist has to ruin his gushing by asking if this "Bonnie"/"Hen" character in his head is another personality or a voice in his head that happens often.

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[oceantornadoo]

my masterlist💖

mdni! my ao3

welcome to the feral things that come from my brain :) feel free to request a trope!

i use #tornadothoughts for all my drabbles and fics and #tornado speaks🙊 for random thoughts

do not repost my work without credit :)

all fics are f!reader unless specified

COD FICS:

141 character masterlists

two lieutenants series (simon riley x f!reader)

mad max: the 141 au (john price x f!reader)

outlaw series (simon riley x f!reader)

[lethalchiralium]

“Out out out out out- Come here, you-“

His dog took off from the front porch, Soap snapping angrily at him for snatching a some chicken bones from the basket Simon just brought in. He watched his Collie prance along the yard, jaw settled on the biggest bone he found.

“The wife’s not gonna like that.” Simon muttered as he joined his husband on the porch, holding their daughter with one hand - letting her face the farm with a cute face of delight. She cooed, little hands opening and closing as she watched her dog go nuts in the grass.

Soap frowned, knowing if he tried to retrieve the bone he’d lose a hand, but if he didn’t retrieve the bone he’d lose his head. He wasn’t keen on their wife being angry at him, she had a nice day training her horses and counting the sheep; no need to piss her off. “She’s got bone broth to make.”

“She does.” Simon confirmed, hiking the little baby up on his chest to keep her close to his face. “Babe’s getting hungry.”

“Looks it too.” Soap glanced to his side, spying his daughter beginning to chew on his husband’s finger. “Gotta get that damn bone.”

He chuckled a little. “Shadow!” The black Collie instantly turned his head towards Simon, who pulled his hand from his daughter’s mouth to point to his foot. “Here.”

Soap rolled his eyes, turning and grabbing his baby as the mutt ran and laid down at Simon’s feet. He kissed his daughter’s blonde hair, keeping her dress nice and flat as he moved back into the cabin. The fire was low in the fireplace, Simon’s knives left abandoned on the table beside the now out of reach basket of chicken bones. He’s got an awake baby in his hands, he knows she’s getting hungry by her little grunts and coos that she is going to be pissed soon. Simon walked in and to the basket, tossing the wiped clean bone into it before placing it higher on a bookshelf.

“Miss Claire,” Soap cooed to his baby, her little face looked up to him with a toothless grin. “Mum’ll be home soon. Ye'r nae gonnae starve.”

“You still goin’ with Laswell to town tomorrow?” Simon commented, hand gently patting Shadow before he opened a drawer, grabbing the silverware he had made years ago. “We need more grain for the-“

“Horses, I know.” He sighed, looking over to the blond as he set the table for three. Soap settled in his chair, letting his baby gnaw on his finger. “Ya sure ya dinnae wanna come?”

Simon chuckled a little. “Got Claire to watch. Mum’s gonna want to bathe the babe and the dog tomorrow, she needs hands.”

“More hands make less work.”

“Especially with the damn dog.” A pause, Soap didn’t even have to look to know Simon was staring down their shepherd dog. “Yes you, ya mutt. Go outside and wait for Mum.”

There was the scratching of the dog’s claws as he bounded back outside, barking happily as you walked in, hands dragging down your dirtied dress with a smile. Claire cooed in Soap’s grasp, Simon’s hand gently brushed through his husband’s hair. The dog followed you as you closed the front door, then to your dirt dusted husbands. A kiss to both their lips, then one to the blonde hair of your baby.

“Did ya want me to cook?” Simon murmured as Soap pressed kisses to your cheek, you pulled away from him and your daughter to stretch your arms above your head.

“You’d set the cabin on fire.”

“She’s right, Si-“

“Shut up.”

“Simon, baby, get my dress.” You turned your back, he instantly began to loosen your corset upon your request. “Just wanna feed the baby and go to bed.”

“Gotta eat, love.” Soap’s hand settled on your leg, big smile on his face. “At least you do.”

You nodded, gazing at your happy baby in his lap. “I’ll feed ‘er after Simon burns the house down.” Simon tugged on the strings of your corset, making you wobble on your feet. You whipped your head around to see him smirk. “Don’t be trouble, Simon, it doesn’t end well.”

“‘Course it doesn’t.” He glanced up to you before he pulled your dress down your front - you gasped, Soap suddenly stood to take your baby away. “Trouble is what made that little one, Little Bird.” You were spun around, callused hands picked you up and brought you the few feet to the massive bed in the adjacent room - Simon placed you in the middle of the bed, yanking off your dress and leaving you in your chemise and stockings. Yet, he didn’t pursue what he usually would - instead, he kissed your lips and smiled. “I’ll make dinner. Rest.”

Soap instantly appeared, bouncing around little Claire in her dress that once matched yours. He smirked, gazing at your shocked expression. “Dinna worry, we’ll ravage ya when the babe’s asleep.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑻𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘/ 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆 𝟏𝟒𝟏

Price x Wife! Reader

(also you were not the only person he messaged that to. Ghost and Laswell were victims of the prank as well)

[haztory]

[Rain, for good luck.]

⤷ johnny "soap" mactavish x f!reader; wedding fluff (w.c 1.5k)

a.n: i cannot stop thinking about a wedding with johnny. here you go

It’s a simple affair, probably at your own insistence, probably in theme considering the equally simple proposal. A presentation of a ring on an early Tuesday morning in your kitchen, your hair messy, sleep still on your breath as you brew two cups of coffee for you and him. He’s on his knee, then. Smiling wide in his sleep shorts, more sure of this than he could have ever been sure of anything. 

The notice of marriage is sent to the registrar that week, a date for your elopement picked for six months later. 

You’re able to squeeze a booking for a country estate beside a lake and it's perfect. Only immediate family and a few of your closest friends are in attendance, the same for Johnny. Your friends bunking in rooms together with his friends, your families closer than they have ever been before, laughter filling the estate as they all come to celebrate the weekend of your wedding. The smile never ceases from Johnny’s face and despite the chaos that comes with the whirlwind decision to get married (and the endless teasing accusations of a hidden pregnancy, of which you vehemently deny and he seems to smugly not deny), Johnny has never looked more content. 

The day of is an exciting blur, beautiful nonetheless. Cloudy, but the sun beams brightly behind them as a slow breeze sways through the estate. You awake in your bridal suite alone until you’re quickly joined by the number of women who flit and bounce through your room in elation. Your bridal party fusses over your makeup, adjusting pieces of your hair lightly to fit the style you want, crying tears of joy all the while. Your dress lays elegantly pressed in its protective sleeve on the neatly made bed, your shoes sitting beside it. 

It’s a snapshot of a moment, delight tangible and permeating. It breathes through the room, light and airy, the anticipation of it—of marrying him— an addictive high that you inhale with deep breaths and hold steady within the locket of your heart. Your dress sits, almost beckoning you into its awaiting caress; Into the future that waits for you in the love and embrace of the man who could hardly delay until dawn broke before asking you to be his forever. You reach for it, letting the long awaited hold consume you—it’s a sweet and dreamy becoming. The softness of the built love enveloping you in the tendrils of its blossoming, and your mother remarks with a teary smile that you are glowing.

You’re walking down the aisle an hour later. Johnny stands at the end, dressed in the ceremonial regimental uniform, and the smile—the same smile that’s been plastered on his face the whole weekend since you arrived at the estate, the same smile that greets you every morning and night—falters in place when his eyes land on yours. It turns watery, and the breath that he takes upon seeing you is heavy. He’s quick to wipe his eyes with his thumb, but you see it even from the distance. 

You’re married soon thereafter. Pledges exchanged, vows uttered sacredly to one another as only those who matter look on you. Even then, it feels like it’s just you two; You and Johnny standing beside the lake as nature sings her blessing into the union, and grants permission for man to kiss his bride. And you’ve kissed Johnny before, many times before, and yet, this one is different. It stills earth and life to this moment; all that could be transforming holy within the second, transcending beyond this plane of existence and into the next. A formidable, stilling, precious moment. 

You become his, he becomes yours. Forever. 

Even when a light drizzle of rain falls upon you in the seal of the kiss, the sky turning a darkening gray in a split second, nothing tramples the becoming. As rain falls harder and your guests run back into the stone house with screeches of shock and surprise on their tongues, you and Johnny fall into a suspended laugh. 

“We should go with them.” You tell your husband—husband— as your veil sticks to you like second skin now from the wet and the point in your heels begins to sink into the mud of the grass. 

“Let’s stay out here.” He tells you, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him, the other hand cupping the side of your face. Droplets drip down his nose in the downpour, but the grin grows even wider as he leans forward for another kiss, “I wan’ tae enjoy my wife.”

Shared kisses turn feverish in a slow burn, Johnny pulling more and more from the depths of you as his hold tightens and you both stand alone to bask in the luck of your joy. Eternity could be spent out here, and you suppose maybe that’s what marriage is all about. Only when you are called inside by your respective families—”Get oot o’ the rain, ye eejit lovebirds!” His sister had yelled— do you return to the realm of mortals, of simple reality. 

Singing, and dancing, and speeches, drinks spilled and stomachs clenching in on themselves as full bellied laughter turns to painful wheezing. Johnny’s sisters crowd around you, blubbering at how grateful that their bawbag of a brother caught someone like ye, your parents charmed evermore as Johnny sits beside them and talks their ears off about the the history of this particular part of the country, and you catch from the corner of your eye two shared friends of yours finally making their move on one another. Caught in the wistfulness of romance, they lean close to one another and you make a mental note to tell Johnny that he now owes you ten foot massages.

The reception is the gateway to the rest of your life—and it's wonderful.

The party goes well into the night and when you return to your bridal suite, Johnny is in tow. Your heels are held in his hand and his suit jacket is draped over your shoulders. Giggles peter out into tired sighs and he flops onto your bed with little reservation when you open the door. 

“We should consummate.” He mutters to the ceiling, eyes closed as you unlace his dress shoes and tug them off. He heaves a great breath of relief when they’re off of his feet, “Lemme make a real woman out o’ ye.”

“How romantic.” You laugh, tossing his shoes to the side before falling on top of him, nuzzling your own tired head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the faded scent of his cologne and the warmth of his own musk. His hand caresses your back, following a familiar pattern of tracing onto your spine. “Think I was already a real woman before you met me, though.”

“Aye, ‘s probably why I liked ye so much.”

You hum amusedly and sweet silence befalls the two of you. Slow breaths of honeyed happiness that dips into the steady cadence of welcome sleep. You’re halfway to dozing off entirely when he pats you gently, whispering about a bath. He takes the lead, unzipping your dress and laying it with considerable care on the bed before drawing yourself and him into the shower. He washes you both as you lean against him, the warm spray and the soothing strokes of his hands on your neck, your shoulders, your back, lull you deeper into him, deeper into the embrace of sleep.

You awake the next morning to the filtered light of gentle sunlight in your eyes. It’s hard to fight the stickiness of slumber, especially since you know that you have nothing pressing on the agenda for today—but in the stretch of your body against the sheets warmed with rest, your foot touches that of another; And you realize, you haven’t woken up alone this time. 

Your husband—husband!—sleeps soundly beside you; His hair is pulled in tufts that you know he’ll soon shave back to his signature mohawk come deployment time, deep breaths exhale from his slightly open mouth, the sheets tangled between his legs as one rests in the cool air of the room and the other lies next to yours underneath the duvet. 

It’s quiet in the estate, hardly anyone awake or moving just yet as you sit up in your bed, surveying the state of the room in the glow of a peaceful morning. Johnny’s suit is crumpled by the bathroom floor, your bouquet and other gifted flowers decorate the surfaces around the suite, and your dress lays worn and loved at the foot of the bed, white chiffon spilling over his exposed foot and onto the footbed. 

This is the rest of your life. An eventful night; a romantic sight. Youthful longing and late-night fantasies suddenly forgotten worries as they are fulfilled in this moment alone.

You fall back into the bed, attaching yourself into Johnny’s side and breathing him in. 

“Still need to make an honest woman o’ ye, Mrs. MacTavish.” A glance upward reveals that his eyes are still closed. You fix yourself into him deeper, wrapping your arm around his bare chest as you lay your head against him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter. 

“‘m counting on it, Mr. MacTavish.”

He smiles and you both return to the homecoming of sleep as rain begins to tap gently on the windows of your life together.

(Rain, for good luck.) 

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

Unhinged reader shenanigans with 141

Laswell: when I said get creative on your attires, this is not what I meant

Johnny, dressed up like the sluttiest french maid with cat ears and tail and fishnet stockings in heels, ass is barely covered

Kyle, full on geralt of rivia from witcher 3 cosplay with the wig and chainmail and contact lenses and swords from a ren faire visit

Price, looking like a ketchup bottle with a bright red vest that goes to his knees and a hat that looks like a traffic cone painted red, costume courtesy of spirit halloween

Simon, in his normal clothes with a Jason Vorhees hockey mask instead of a skull mask on his balaclava

You, in an inflatable Barney the Dinosaur costume: but it's halloween

Laswell: THIS IS A STAKE OUT

[harpsinfinity]

One more thing before I shut off my silky smooth brain

HES SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD HIS EYESSSSS

[captainsaveawoah]

GHOULJAMS REBLOGGED MY BRAINTROT 😭 why is everyone so sad?? Simon got a decent happy ending tho! Also I CAN NOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH ATTENTION THIS GOT. Thank you all. You made the little boy in me so happy <3

Idk. Something, something secret baby/double life except Johnny and you are together and you’re kept a secret (surprise the man is secretive about his life) from the team.

Bit of a timeline au, You date a few years, you two get married, but it’s still all a secret. Price has an idea, his will has changed, signed off on it himself but doesn’t dig too deep, knows his boys will come to him.

Gaz is the first to comment, Johnny never taking anyone home. Can hear the man most nights finishing into his hands with a groan that sounds something like a name. Johnny just laughs and tips his beer, steering the conversation away.

Ghost though. Can see it. The way Johnny, despite wanting to charge in, gun ‘em down, will take caution, the worry in his words when he’s hurt or downed, not for himself but for someone at home.

Yet, Johnny stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word, rushes back to a “cold, empty apartment” Simon can tell when he and his bird are having a rough patch (little bit of a ghoap thing because they are as gay as they come idk) can tell when Johnny and his bird are in a good place. But the man doesn’t say a damned thing.

You and Johnny have sex… a lot of sex, when he’s home of course. A young couple, so in love, so happy, so wrapped in each other it’s like you made for one another.

You get married, he builds you a house, moves you to Scotland of course. “Need our weens to speak like their papa, yeah?” Knocks you up. Gives you THE CHUBBIEST little boy with his daddies eyes. You know about the task force, know they don’t know about you. You wish they did, wish you knew them personally, they’re the only family Johnny has, but you know Johnny keeps you away for your safety.

He’s about 3 when Simon is at your door. Your eyes widen, like you think you’re dreaming before your on the ground screaming and BEGGING Simon to say it’s not true.

The big guy sticks around, Johnny had felt he wouldn’t come home on this one, told Simon about you before the mission. Asked him to look after you and his son if he doesn’t make it home for supper. Ghost shrugs him off, makes some stupid joke but watches Johnny’s body crumple to the ground as he gets shot in the head.

Johnny told him it had to be him, “Kyle’s got a bird. Captain’s got too much on his plate. Plus you seem to escape death at every turn. Need you to take care of my heart.”

Your son is quick to take to Simon. You not so much, he hangs around, eats all your food, changes his clothes all the time, crowds your space while you grieve the man who became your whole.

But there are days, when you hear Simon and think it’s Johnny. There are days when Simon holds your son and you see Johnny. There are days when Simon’s head is between your thighs you feel like it’s Johnny. You feel bad, he tells you it’s okay. And you believe him, you feel it, mourn it with each passing day, knowing that one day you’ll look up and see only Simon, Johnny will always be there, but one day it’ll just be Simon.

Idk tho.

[shotmrmiller]

Masterlist

18+ Blog! MDNI

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

I'm your only situationship

Mistress

Inevitable

Situationship into Relationship

Tormented by a Ghost

Submitting to his dominance , part 2, part 3

Please stop staring (or don't)

Good thing we're all dogs

Not a dog, but a rat, part 2

Uninvited, unexpected

Big man, Big mouth

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Maybe Dessert first

John 'just the tip' MacTavish

You'd look better as mine

John Price

Happy trails, John

Loba

Soulmate AU part 1, part 2

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

A chance encounter

Drabbles

Ghost being a toxic ex

Ghost with pre-parenthood

141!spotter Simon

141!spotter John

Dom!Ghost

cbf!Johnny

pathetic!Simon

pathetic!Simon extra

pathetic!Simon 1.2

pathetic!Simon 1.3

pathetic!Simon monopolizing you

blindfolded

König

cbf!johnny 1.1

cbf!johnny 1.2

Alpha!Ghost

Alpha!Ghost 1.2

pup!Ghost ask

cbf!simon dbd inspire

neighbor ghoap x reader

neighbor ghoap x reader 1.1

cbf!simon would kill for you

biblically accurate simon

davy jones!simon

ups!simon

cbf!simon teaches you everything

ex-husband simon

ex-husband simon with a twist

simon's not a guy you take home

pen pal simon, 1.2

hate sex ex bf ghost

wrong number w/ simon

single dad simon and related asks

ghoap :)

Reqs

Ghost NSFW

Best friend!Johnny & FWB!Simon AU

Ghost is the unexclusive fwb

Ghoap x reader

Johnny helps with your monthly

You don't need anyone else but us

Escort AU

Needs must, part 2, part 3 (simon, johnny, simon)

Sensual Domination (kyle)

Price

Pet!Reader

Simon meets John's cat

Simon plays with John's cat

Betrayal pet au

Betrayal pet au 1.2

Betrayal pet au 1.3

The boys take you from your old owner

Old owner sees you with the boys

The boys take care of you

Taken to a new home

John doesn't come home to his kitten

Pet needs comfort

Pets exchange hands

Johnny gets himself a fox

Bun waits for Gaz to come home

Multiverse COD

'09 Ghost's wife meets '22 Ghost, part 2, part 3 pre part4, part 4

multiverse asks

Pornstar!AU

pornstar ghost, part 2, part 3

ps!ghost and of!reader prompt

ps!ghost and of!reader, 1.2, 1.3

[soapybutt17]

The Ex and Why's

Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.

Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration

When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.

You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.

“Ms. Riley?”

You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.

Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.

“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.

“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”

You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.

“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.

“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”

“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.

All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.

All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.

He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.

“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”

You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.

“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.

“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.

For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.

You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.

“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.

“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”

You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.

“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.

“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.

“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.

When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.

“He was military too?”

“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.

“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”

“None taken, Captain.”

Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.

With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.

Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.

You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.

After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.

“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.

It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.

“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.

“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”

Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.

“Steamin Jesus.”

Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.

“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.

“English, MacTavish.”

“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.

“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”

Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.

“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.

“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.

“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.

“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.

Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.

As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.

But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.

“Looks like you’re right at home.”

You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.

“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.

“How are you holding up?” She inquired.

“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”

“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”

You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.

“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.

“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.

“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”

You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.

“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”

“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”

“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”

“Talk to who about?”

Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.

“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.

“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.

“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.

“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”

Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.

To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.

In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.

It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.

Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.

That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.

He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.

“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”

Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.

Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.

Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.

“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.

“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”

Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.

“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.

It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.

“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”

This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.

“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.

“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”

In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.

“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”

Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.

Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.

He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.

One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.

“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.

You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.

“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.

“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.

You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.

“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.

Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.

Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.

“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.

You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.

“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.

You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.

For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.

You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.

You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.

“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.

Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.

“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”

“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”

You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.

All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.

You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.

You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.

“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.

“Where’s the kitchen?”

You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.

You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?

In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of all the places you could work why the base?”

“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”

Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.

“You could have left?”

You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.

“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.

“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”

All you could do was nod.

“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”

“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”

“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”

“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”

“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.

“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”

“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?

“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”

“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”

“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”

“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”

“You want to know the truth?”

“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”

You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.

He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.

He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.

You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.

“Happy?”

“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.

“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”

It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.

He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.

“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”

“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.

The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.

It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.

Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.

After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.

You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.

“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.

With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.

“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.

“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.

“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.

One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.

“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”

You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.

“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.

“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.

“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.

“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.

“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”

“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”

“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.

“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.

You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.

“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”

You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.

“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.

It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.

Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.

“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.

You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.

“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”

“Always.” He nodded.

A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.

“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”

You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.

“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.

“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”

You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.

“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.

“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”

You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.

“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”

“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”

“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”

It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.

An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.

“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.

“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.

“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.

It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.

“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”

You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.

“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.

You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.

Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.

“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”

The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.

“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.

“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”

The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.

There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.

“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.

For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.

When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.

Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.

“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.

The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.

“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”

You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.

“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”

“Anything?”

You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.

“Simon?”

“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”

“What?”

“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.

“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.

“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”

“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.

He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.

“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.

“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”

“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”

“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.

You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.

[lethalchiralium]

“Look what Daddy got ye, Claire.” Johnny smirked at his little blonde babe, the girl clapping her little hands at him with a toothless smile. In his hand was a little stuffed rabbit, fabric hand-sewn from the market in town. “Here ye go, lass.”

The baby squealed in her high chair, she clutched her new toy in her hand while she eyed it curiously. Johnny leaned down and kissed her curls, the little thing squealed again. He felt a gentle hand on his lower back, he didn’t even have to look to know it was Simon.

“Didn’t hear ya come in.”

Johnny chuckled a little before standing up straight, hand seeking purchase on some inch of Simon’s side. He peered into view, Johnny’s hand settled on Simon’s hip before he kissed him. “Thought th’ babe was nappin’, so ah was quiet.”

Simon nodded towards Claire, his own hand gripped Johnny’s side. “She’s been lookin’ around for you all day. Little Bird found it funny, she laughed and made Claire cry.”

Johnny looked back at his daughter - who was chewing on an arm of her toy - then back to his husband. “Where is the wife anyway?”

“Laid up in bed. Woke up ill.”

Johnny gave a curious look, Simon smacked his side.

“Haven’t been doin’ anything, Johnny. You know that.” His hand reached for Claire, gently petting her shoulder. “She’s not sure she even wants another now. Mad that she’s sick ‘cause Claire was.”

“Mm.” Johnny nodded before he turned to look into the bedroom, seeing the shape of you underneath the quilts. “Join us when she’s down?”

Simon kissed him again, quick and chaste but with a smile. “Always.”

Johnny moved into the bedroom with a couple steps, his smile large as he slipped under the quilt with you. “Hello, Little Bird.”

“Gon’ get you sick.”

His head settled on yours, arm on your side and wrapped around your front. “Don’t matter.”

“You’ve got horse duty tomorrow.”

“Ah know it.”

“Johnny…”

He kissed your cheek before closing his eyes. “Sleep, Little Bird. Jus’ wanna hold ye.”

[syoddeye]

unedited soap x reader thing, through simon’s POV. based off an image in my inspiration folder.

cw: abduction, imprisonment, more medical inaccuracies we breeze right through. cages. italics.

simon drives slow through the backroads. he takes the time to avoid potholes and cracks in the neglected asphalt.

he whistles low when it transitions to gravel, eyes flicking up to the mirror to check his cargo. gaz does his best with an arm slung over the goods to try and keep it still. tries to not whack his head as the ride jostles him about the bed.

price’s big blocky hand painted letters on the signs let simon know they’re close. turn back and private property and no exit. proper warnings. generous, really, to the right people. more than simon would give any lost souls wandering all the way out here.

the property comes into view through the trees, and simon sees johnny at the woodpile. wide shoulders and back slicked with sweat and dirt, heaving the axe up and bringing it down hard. adding to a pile of split wood. he doesn’t need to. they all stocked up while he was out, but it gives him something to do. an outlet.

johnny came back after the bullet. mostly. but even with all the doctors and specialists supplied by two different governments, something was left behind in the tunnels. he wakes up ranting and raving, talks about a wife. a whole life he lived while he was out—comatose, that is.

johnny told them how he was medically discharged and moved house. how he met a bird who lived a floor above him, chatted her up, and managed to get it in. how he dated this girl, popped the question, and married. they were trying for their first mactavish, when he woke up. he came to in the hospital, delirious and sick, and quickly spiraled when he realized none of it was real. he nearly bludgeoned himself to death with a steel meal tray, hoping to go back down, to find her. it took him and gaz to pin him until someone could sedate him.

since then it’s been a group effort. a new mission. they got the first bit done easy. medical discharge. no one fought them on it. their johnny’s got a hole in his head and can’t go ten minutes alone when he’s conscious. the next step was more of a challenge. difficult to execute without tipping johnny off, putting him on a scent.

simon parks the truck beside price’s, and tells gaz to hang back. he finds his captain overseeing johnny from the porch.

it’s ‘ere. in one piece, primed and ready.

paperwork?

done. squared and filed.

i’ll bring him around.

simon waits with gaz. they hear johnny before they see him, swearing up a storm. clearly irritated, in one of his moods. poor thing, simon thinks.

price guides johnny to the front with a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward when the scot stops in his tracks.

steamin’ jesus.

ya like ‘er? she’s all yours.

she’s—

from the clinic. we thought you’d like someone familiar.

simon watches johnny stagger forward. him and gaz come away from the open tailgate, giving the shark-eyed man a wide berth. price chuckles quietly when johnny’s fingers lace around the thin bars of the kennel. when he grins at the crude sign gaz wrote and reads it aloud: just married.

feels like a dream, johnny whispers, reaching in to stroke the temple of the terrified, bound and gagged woman in the cage.

for all their sakes, simon hopes it’s a good one.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Their child is getting bullied at school.

Ugh, anon. Are you trying to break my heart? Are you trying to make me ache? I think you are. I really think so especially with a prompt like this.

Firstly, I love some Task Force 141 Dad prompts, headcanons, etc. It's so indulgent on my end. I adore picturing them as fathers. Personally, I see them all as girl dads but that's just me. I didn't do that here, but I still headcanon it. Enjoy some protective 141 daddies.

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of bullying

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny breathes deep. He needs to calm down.

Johnny goes to one knee, staring into his son’s eyes. “What happened?”

The story drives his irritation higher. It’s frustrating. And nothing is being done about it.

Johnny should be an adult about this. He should let the school handle it. But he also knows that bullies are slick. They don’t want to be caught.

And sometimes all they need is a physical reminder.

“If it happens again, you form a fist. Like this.” His son nods. “Hit them here. Got it?” Johnny points to a spot on his face.

“Got it.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle softly knocks on his daughter’s bedroom door.

She glances up.

“Can I come in?” She nods and Kyle enters, sitting on the bed of her bed. “Your mum told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“She pushed first.”

“I believe you,” Kyle says softly. “I taught you stand up for yourself.”

“I did.”

“I know you did, baby.” He gently cups her cheek and leans in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “But come to me first. Allow me to help. Okay?”

She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Love you, baby girl.”

John Price

“Enjoy your lunch?”

John’s daughter nods. “Yep.”

“Did you like the blueberry muffin your mother packed you?”

“Yes.”

“And your sandwich?”

“Perfect amount of jelly.”

John frowns. “I know you’re lying, dove. Your mum packed a peanut butter brownie and a turkey sandwich.”

His daughter goes quiet.

“You’re not eating your lunch. Why?”

She bites her lip and John drops to her level.

“Talk to me.”

The words spill out of her, and John goes cold. Someone is taking her lunch, leaving her with absolutely nothing.

John nods, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll take care of it, dove.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to bite his tongue and clench his fist. His irritation is rising. His wife places her hand on his thigh, squeezing it with reassurance.

“It’ll be fine, Simon,” she murmurs.

“Someone hurt my little girl. Our daughter is being punished. I want some fucking answers.”

“I know. But if you go in guns blazing, it won’t help. She’s already upset.”

Simon sighs heavily. His wife is right. He needs to calm down. Being combative won’t help anything.

“And you won’t confront the parents?”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, growling. “If it stops.”

“Simon.”

“Promise,” he says.

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