#protective ghost

[mayflysdie]

No more. -Ghost FanFic

Story: Simon's wife is kidnapped and tortured, leaving him and 141 to find her. Hopefully before it's too late.

Trigger warnings: Foul language, torture, violence, body fluids, drugs, knives, choking, restraints, dark themes not suited for minors, mentions of pregnancy, bodily harm, a battle with personalities. (tell me if I messed any)

A/N: Haven't edited this yet so excuse the mistakes. I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2.

When i entered the apartment, something immediately felt off. Like someone made the air thick, and the rooms eerily silent. 

I set my bag down softly, retrieving the combat knife that Simon had given me years ago. My eyes sweep over every shadowy nook and cranny of the apartment, searching for any signs of danger. I'm usually in the habit of leaving the kitchen light on, but it's off tonight - one of the first things I notice upon entering. My phone begins to vibrate in my hand, thankfully I must have forgotten to turn off the silent mode from my earlier meeting. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer it, bringing it up to my ear. 

" Where are you?" Simon's voice is on edge, and it sounds like he's panting. There’s other male voices in the background, it sounds like Price is yelling. 

“Home” I whisper so quietly i’m not sure he could hear me. Or maybe the heartbeat in my ears made it seem that way. 

As I close my eyes for what feels like a mere second, a sudden jolt startles me. The phone is violently knocked out of my trembling hand and a cloth is swiftly placed over my mouth, the stench of chemicals immediately assaulting my senses. My nose and eyes burn with an intensity that is almost unbearable. Fight, do something.

In a moment of panicked instinct, I swing the nearby knife towards the man who had seemingly appeared from the depths of the kitchen, barely managing to nick him in the neck before he grabs hold of my wrist with a vice-like grip. With a sickening crunch, my bones are twisted until I can no longer hold onto the weapon and drop it to the ground, letting out a muffled scream against the suffocating cloth.

Through the hazy fog clouding my mind, I hear Simon's voice growing increasingly distant as he yells through the phone, his words barely registering in my fading consciousness. As my eyes slowly drift shut on their own accord, a sense of numbness begins to envelop my limbs. Simon, Simon please.

The man roughly lifts me up, easily overpowering my weakened attempts at resistance, and I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness creeping in as my consciousness slips away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As my eyes slowly creep open, I become aware of the lingering effects of the drugs coursing through my mind and body. Panic immediately sets in as I realize I am unable to move any part of my body. My heart races as I take in my surroundings - a dark metal room with a pungent odor of iron and decay, like a slaughterhouse filled with rotting carcasses.

I am lying on a cold, hard metal table, shackled down by heavy chains that dig into my skin. 

“it’s an incredible drug, isn’t it?” A deep male voice suddenly echos throughout the room. Coming from the right side of the table, where I can’t turn my head to see them. 

“You can’t move or speak, But… you can feel pain” He chuckles, sounding closer than before. 

Suddenly, something sharp stabs into my arm and I try to cry out in pain, but my body won’t respond. Simon, where are you?

“Mike, turn on the camera would you? It’s time for the show,” he instructed someone else in the room. He grabs my hair roughly and yanks my head to the side, facing him.

Then I notice a tightness around my throat, something cold and hard. is there a chain around my neck? I panic, eyes widening.

the man sees my panic and laughs, tossing his head back as if he’s seeing the best thing in the world. 

“Oh that’s good, I love that expression. I hope Ghost does too” He starts tracing my neck and collar bone with a knife. not yet slicing me, but enough pressure to leave raised, red lines. 

“It’s nothing personal, darling,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear as he lowers himself closer to me. My body tenses and I want to desperately move away. “But, a life for a life, hm?” He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on my skin. “Unfortunately for you, I plan to make your death slow for him. His precious thing.”

My heart races as he drags the sharp blade down my collar bone, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A searing pain shoots through my chest as he cuts a deep line between my breasts, and down to my lower abdomen. The knife seems to find its home there, digging deeper with each passing second. I want to scream, to kick and squirm away from the agony, but I am paralyzed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon runs into the apartment, gun drawn though he already knows they left. That they got what they came for. A dark pit forms in his stomach, blind fury almost overwhelming him. 

He bends down to pick up your phone, and just stares at it. if only he could’ve called sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. 

The vow he made when you married; to always protect you, let no harm befall you. 

it rings in his head nonstop, like a broken record. 

Soap and Price slowly walk through the entrance, Price on the phone with Laswell, who’s trying her best to locate you. 

Simon stands up when Soap places a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on his face. “We’ll find the lass”. But his words go in one ear and out the other. 

Price walks into the living room in a hurry, grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. “Simon” He says, and something in his tone makes Simon, and Soap move with haste to see what’s going on. 

Simon's trembling legs nearly give way beneath him as he stumbles towards the couch, reaching out to grab it for support when he sees your face on the television screen. His heart drops to his stomach as he takes in the sight of you, battered and bloody. The camera zooms out, revealing the full extent of your injuries, and that's when bile rises in Simon's throat, threatening to overflow.

He remembers how he used to run his hands across your perfect skin while lying in bed together, or how he would sneak a hand up your shirt while you were cooking and you would just giggle and swat him away with a spoon. He remembers staring into your eyes, like honey pools reflecting all the love in the world. But now they're red and swollen, almost unrecognizable.

Simon rushes to the nearest bathroom, tearing off the balaclava covering his face. He hunches over the toilet as his stomach lurches and empties itself, leaving him dry heaving and gasping for air.

Images from his past come rushing back at full force - bodies, blank stares, all reminders of the darkness that seems to follow him wherever he goes. But you were supposed to be the one good thing in his life. goddamnit, You were supposed to stay.

As Simon stands up and flushes the toilet, trying to steady himself, something catches his eye on the counter. Something white with a blue cap. His mind turns to static as he reaches for it and sees two very obvious red lines.

He slowly walks out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test held tightly in his hand. 

The television screen is now dark and silent, but Price and Soap still stare at it with blank expressions.

Simon closes his eyes, breathing slowly. calming his racing heart, steadying his mind. 

“Simon?” Price calls out, but he ignores him. 

Simon can’t be here.

He's too fragile for this. Too emotional and vulnerable. A man who let himself love and be loved, only to have his world torn apart.

No, what his wife needs now is a ghost. Someone strong and unfeeling, who won't hesitate to do what needs to be done. They took his beloved wife, his reason for living.

And now, he has a child on the way. She’s carrying his child and they’re harming her, hurting his wife and child. 

Not my family, not again.

No.

No.

No. 

This world will burn before something happens to them.

Finally, he opens his eyes, and Price is standing closer than before, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy test in Ghost's hand. His face has gone pale with realization.

“Simon?”

Simon isn’t fucking here. 

[thetravelingtyper]

Our Shattered Heart (Part 1) (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

After an injury and recovery, the men of the force find themselves acting a little differently towards you.

Inspired by the Smiths and Cage the Elephant.

Warnings: a building falls, use of song lyrics, protective 141

Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Masterlist

SO I POPPED OFF at like 1 am with three shots of brandy lmao

The strings of a bass echoed into the open night. Electric steps, iron bridges, the river. Central town spinning away into the flurry of the night. You were running from phantoms, what had you done but cried into the night? Your phone long since turned off you were afraid to return to the safe house. Made up as a civilian you blend smoothly in, but the oppressive nature of their stares made your eyes water so you took your chance and bailed. 

Even in your distress, you admired London proper. You wipe your tears and stop your swift walk. You could hear music? There was a well-lit area a dozen or so yards, (Metric Sergaent) You frown as your Lieutenant’s voice echos in your head naturally. You grit your teeth. Nothing you did was right. In training he’d catch every little mistake, poking out your weaknesses without telling you how to better your stance.

What of Soap and Gaz? Your fellow Sargents and supposed friends. One moment they had your back then after your injury they joined Ghost. Soap would pull you aside and scold you for using your ‘bad leg’ or your hits were too low or high. Gaz just commented after you healed up against you even serving. It took three weeks for you to have enough.

You turn on your phone to check the time, and it rings with a skull icon, you answer it as you can pick up the music. 

“Fucking hell Sergeant where are you.”

“Doesn't matter Ghost, Fuck off”.

“Wait, Lo-”

You hang out and toss your phone into the river. You smirk, a sense of relief flooding your tense body. What had your valiant captain done about your concerns? Immediate relocation to a safe house for surveillance, with said team. Nothing of “I’ll talk with Simon” No you got the “You could be a liability so let us have three grown-ass men babysit you in the middle of the city.” You went to protest but he shushed you with a disappointed look that made you reel back. 

You weren't British, maybe you didn't meet his standards. He's the one who requested an outside operative all those months ago. You performed top of your class and threw your body and heart into the job working your way into being the face of the team. It was you whom they sent to comfort those who lost loved ones as collateral. Everything changed when you broke orders to save a child.

--

“Heart, Ghost, Soap Clear Out Now! That is a direct order!”

The building rumbled and air support had’nt arrived. You had about a minute until the whole place collapsed. 

“Affirmiative, Sergeants move out!” 

Ghost ushered you in front of him and Soap was already running through the dust to get out. But as you turned to run you caught movement.

“Ghost there is someone in there!” You try to trace the movement but Ghosts gloved hand yanked you back as he started towards the entrance. 

“No Heart-”

You gasped, there was a girl pinned under rumble! Your instincts take over and you shove out of his gasp with more strength then you ever though you could muster, Ghost stumbles and you book it back as he yells after you.

“GHOST, HEART OUT NOW THE BUILDING IS COMING DOWN!”

He had no choice but to leave you as you threw yourself over the girl. There was a loud rumble then black. 

You huff, odviously you had survived and the little girl you pulled out from the rubble survived as well. After the dust cleared the next day, you had lugged a beam off her and you and hobbled her out to seek medical attention. Once the mission had finished Price and the others had rushed back to find empty rubble, it was a joyous mother who led the foreigners back to their Heart. And there you were, in some small village a hero treated to the best they could. All you could offer despite the pain of your leg was a small smile towards to girl who clung to you like a baby. 

Soap had about given out before he rushed you with curses, poking and prodding like a mother hen. Gaz laughed, a wholehearted sound like melted caramel and quipped about surviving the sky falling. It was Price and Ghost who were not too keen, but you had a back up. The leaders of the village, who’s daughter and grandaughter you had saved, had what turned out to be excellent intel that you handed to Price with a smirk on your face. 

“Fucking Hell.” Was all you gotten from Ghost and his head in his hands with a deep sigh. 

--

What you didn't realize was how big of a deal it was to the Captain and Ghost. Once you got back to base and were put on a 3 month leave was when things soured. You were able to use connections in the village to work intel, something Laswell was grateful for, But Ghost  took this personally, giving you almost a disapproving sneer when he would see you out of bed. Price was silent. No yelling, no scolding just silent. Some storm brewed and once you fully healed and went back to training it seemed Ghost tainted Soap. The Scot became overbearing, making less hurtful comments. A Gaz, once level headed, turned into Price’s little shadow, you could tell from their glances they were communicating. 

After  three weeks of being stationed with them, fully healed mind you, you had enough of walking on egg shells, being the subject of Ghost’s anger and Gaz’s twists and turns. You didn’t snap until Soap had risen his voice after your pacing. 

“ENOUGH HEART.”

It caught Ghost and Gaz off guard in the small apartment as you turned wide-eyed. His eyes were stormy, set off by something you couldn’t identify.

“Johnny-”

“No LT. They need to learn their place”

Your hackles rose, you tried to calm the rage, how dare he?

“And whats that MacTavish? You four have been acting like I’ve been a virus since the day I came back! I worked my ass off to help you and this is how you asses repay me? Im not a fucking toddler you can drag around.”

Gaz went to speak but the glare you shoot him is venemous,

“No you don’t get say anything Kyle. You’ll  just go running back to Price and prolong this little ‘vacation’ Im sick of being treated like a child.”

“Sergeant” 

“Oh rich from you LT” You feel your nerves bristle as Ghost steps forward in challenge. Despite him towering over you, you bite back 

“You can take your Sergeant and Stuff it. You have acted like an asshole through these past 4 months and I’m sick of it! You three are grown ass men acting like children. Run back to Price and bully someone else I'm sick of this shit.”

And with that you grabbed your bag and stormed off, disappearing into streets of London the three men stunned at your outburst.

---

You enter the lit area to find a band and civilians listening to, was that the Smith’s? You relax to the familiar music. The main singer is a handsome man, dark eyes raking the crown with a calm smile before you lock eyes and he winks. Unexpecting, you blush and turn into the crowd. He begins to sing with a voice of silver and honey.

Take me out tonight

Where there's music and there's people

And they're young and alive

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one

Anymore

There is a little irony as you take a seat at the bar. Over the past two years, before your four odd months the taskforce had become home to you. You settled in quite fine, either bickering along side Soap, joining with Ghost or helping Price and Gaz with their reports. Seeing your personal skills Laswell insisted on you staying.

She smiles when you enter in under the arms of Gaz and Soap. 

“Hey kid, good to see you. 

You nod at here before Price enters, he passes you three a look before ushering the three of you out of the office.

“Come on you two, the parents gotta meet now.”

You giggle as Price rolls his eye as you turn you catch a knowing look from Laswell to Price and as you head out the door, but being dragged to lunch, you miss the fond look he shoots you. 

You order a bourbon neat, as you take a sip the chill of the night hits a little deeper and you frown behind your glass watching couples get up to dance. You remember that mission with a fond sigh, the bourbon reminding you of your tall and often mysterious Lieutenant.

Take me out tonight

Because I want to see people 

And I want to see life

Driving in your car

Oh, please don't drop me home

Because it's not my home, it's their home

And I'm welcome no more

You tilt your head down, that mission oh. Something in your chest ached.

You entered the room in a shuffle, the trails of your outfit not what you were used to, but a mission like this called for finery. You stumble but pale hand’s catch your arm and tucks it in under his. You turn to the perpetrator but find dark eyes quietly regarding yours and you jump.

“Ghost!”

“Call me Simon at this point Heart”

You manage a quiet yes sir. He watches you with softer eyes before there is laughing down the hallway. 

“He’s a lucky bastard is what he is, getting to take Heart all dolled up.”

Johnny’s voice has your eyes rolling. After a few months of your service the Scot had accepted you with open arms, and the flirting, my god the pick up lines. You sigh fondly into your drink.

“I mean you could just ask them-Lt! You’re early.”

Simon doesn’t offer more then a raised brow as he and Soap meet eyes and Soap turns away. 

“Kyle please can you help me with this,” You lift the tails of your outfit in a huff. 

The man chuckles and nods, it was his idea anyway. His dark eyes meet yours with soft smile that makes you swoon. He offer you a hand and you go to take it but find resistance. 

“Simon?”

“Hurry Love. We ship out in 10.” And with that he lets you go. Kyle’s hand is warm and rough and he twirls you to adjust the back of your outfit. Soap turns to Simon, 

“The mask?” 

And to your surprise, Simon looks to you and nods before slowly removing the balaclava. Soap and Gaz seemed unfazed but you were surprised. A year in you had yet to see more then his lips from a smoke or a drink, but the soft blond hair and scars found you staring at him. He watches you but when you meet his eyes you give him a soft encouraging smile. And his lips quirk up as Soap fusses with his mic and collar. Simon just grumbles at him and you laugh, a chiming sound that has all the men smiling. 

You peer back through the crowd, how long had it been since you’d been out? You tip back the the rest of your bourbon and set the glass down feeling the sting. Fuck it. You drop your back and relax into the seat, the singer’s eyes meeting your with a smile as he continues to sing. You sway in your seat to the music. 

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

You and Soap tumble together, hitting the ground before rolling. The impact steals the breath from your lungs as you grasp at him making sure he was alive.

“Never though i’d get ye like this Heart.”

You sigh, he was fine, despite just saving his ass. He rolls over so his weight isn’t on you more then it needed to be. You are sitting almost on his hips, he grins at you cockily with a raised brow.

“Stuff it Johnny, I just saved your ass.”

“Aye and I gotta thank you for it.”

And in a sudden sweep he pulled himself up and presses a soft kiss to the side of your lips.

“Thank you Love.”

Your face lifts a little at the memory and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes close an you bask in the warmth of the crowd. Following that moment the taskforce changed.

Take me out tonight

Take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

And in the darkened underpass

I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last"

But then a strange fear gripped me 

And I just couldn't ask

You hop off the stool and head into the crowd, heart aching for comfort and the hands of others. 

First it was soap, falling into your shadow, after the kiss your heightened senses saw his eyes on you everywhere. With other soldiers? One of the members of 141 was there, or he was, hands across his chest, standing guard. 

You were training with members of KorTac. The largest fellow, König had taken a keen interest in you due to your language skills and you found a calming friend in the man. Masked like your Simon you felt more comfortable with him. So when he had you pinned you squirmed and broke free. 

“Good”

His voice is soft, pale eyes meeting yours as you roll up onto your feet. You run at him before he can get up, but he shoots up and grabs you with a little yelp escaping from your mouth as you are then thrown a few feet onto the soft mat. You roll onto your back, the breath knocked out of you and the ceiling spinning slightly. 

“That’s enough!” 

Garrick’s sharp voice surprises you as his form appears in your settling vision. He’s quick to kneel down and check you out.

“I’m fine Kyle, just a bit of the rough and tumble.”

His soft lips frown disapprovingly,

“I don’t like you wrestling with him.”

He helps you up and you see König’s form looking out for you. You give him a small wave.

“Sorry Schatz” The nickname pauses you as you stand, Kyle’s arm around you guarding. 

You blush a little and smile at the tall man before a gruff ‘Sergeant’ calls from the edge of the room. You find Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at König before he calls you to him. You nod a little dumbfounded and before you can pull out of Kyle’s grasp the man presses a kiss to the side of your head. Then lets you stumble into the waiting grasp of the Lieutenant. 

You shake off the memory and your heart murmurs, but you ignore the hurt. For one night you were free from the confusion and rejection from your team. The crowd, seemingly sensing this welcomed you into their sway. A few single ladies sidled up you with wide smiles and pulled you into their group. You knew how to dance, you learned young, this skill pulled you into some interesting missions. As you sway with the ladies you recollect as the singer watches you. 

Take me out tonight

Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum

Oh, I haven't got one

Oh, oh

Simon’s arms were steady around you, Price’s voice in your ear letting you know about the target. You had gone undercover as a couple to infiltrate a drug smugging ring. The leader was hosting a gala at a large mansion in the mountains. And seeing as Kyle and Johnny were on a mission that left you three on your own. You nod silently to Price. Simon pulls you closer and then spins you out on your heels. 

“Who knew you could dance?” 

You quip up at him, but he only nods, umber eyes taking in your form. You looked breathtaking and it stole the words from his lips.

FIrst Johnny then Kyle. You wondered as you looked up at Simon, handsome as ever in a dark black suit. 

“Are you ok Simon?”

He hums, the sound deep in his chest, then in a moment he pulls you flush against him.

“Target on the move lovebirds.”

Price’s voice sound in your ears in a chuckle. 

“RIght Captain.”

You sigh but Simon pauses in his movement, and you look up at him in confusion, you call his name but he just stares at you. 

“We need to move Lt.”

Nothing, but his hand raising from your side to your face as he leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls a way and finishes with a 

“Affirmative.”

Before leading your frozen self away. 

You lose yourself in the music for a moment, rotating partners in innocent sways, just treasuring being lost in the moment, But this song of course must end.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

The voice is much closer and you soon find yourself face to face with the mysterious singer. He smiles as he sings and it reminds you of the final piece of the puzzle.

Price had fallen asleep at his desk, again. You sigh fondly and set a cup of warm lady earl grey aside. You move over to him as he mutters something in his sleep. You felt bad waking him but you knew you needed to before he slumped over.

“Captain”

Nothing, even as you call it 3 times. Finally desperate,

“Johnathan Price!”

He shoots awake, eyes darting around tensely before he finds you and softened immediately.

“You can’t be doing that to a man love.”

“You were falling asleep again, how many times do I need to get on you about that Cap? “

The man regards you and chuckles before he sees the tea. You notice this and turn to grab and hand it to him. When you you turn back around the man is standing regarding you. The moment then feels intimate and you flush a little, stepping back.

“Sorry I’ll just leav-”

“No love it's fine, and please if it's just us call me John.” 

He reaches for the tea taking a sip while his ocean eyes watch you. There is something there and you can sense it. After nearly two years of serving under him you grew to know him pretty well, there was fondness in his gaze for all his soldiers. But this was something softer.

“John, I…”

He finishes the cup and sets it down, listening wholly to you and you find the attention has your heart stammering.

“The others have-”

“I know love.”

There it is again and you find yourself pausing as John leans forward, taking your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles into.

“What do I do?”

“Up to you love. I am here for you regardless. You need to get some sleep.”

With this he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand and lets you go.

The next day your deployed to the small village and the following four months are hell. 

You shake off the feeling. After your injury they treated you like a child, like a burden to be kept locked away. You sigh, pausing, feeling alone in the middle of everybody again. 

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

The singer finishes with a frown. The crowd cheers then standard music plays and the moment is broken. The singer passes the mic to his member then turns to your pondering self. 

“Are you alright Love?”

His voice is soft and he stands a respectable distance away. One of the members of his band takes the mic and begins with Heaven knows I'm miserable now, continuing the Smiths theme. You almost want to laugh a smile lighting up your face at past (bad very bad) Karaoke attempts with Soap and Gaz. 

“There’s a smile.” He smile down at you and offers a hand, you take it introducing yourself. He raises a hand to the crowd and your new girl friends cheer you on as you allow the stranger to pull you into a dance. 

The next hour passes with another drink with your new friends and opening up about yourself. Nothing about missions nor sensitive information, but finding yourself in a strange position with the four men of the 141. A little looser you describe them all with a few giggles in response as you recount their crazy tactics. It was nice and you settled into the easy arm of the singer. His arm laid only on the back of your chair but under the watchful eyes of the girl group you got comfortable. At the end of the hour, approaching 3 in the morning the singer was called back on to stage. 

A new base line and you swooned as something a bit more American played. The singer nodded his acceptance to the bassist and began to sing. 

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On both sides, the vow was broken

Oh my my, I'm the one, tryin' to hide this damage done

One day, all our secrets will be spoken

He looked at you and gave a wink and the girls cheered as you threw back a beer. Fuck it. You allowed them to pull you into the ever thriving crowd. Your group drew into the heart of the crowd right up in front of the stage.

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

The singer surprised you and under a breath he hopped down from the stage to join the crowd. He approached you with a sway and a open offered hand. You looked into his eyes with a twinkle in yours. The girls cheering you on, you took his hand and swung into the music.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

Here you were free to experience life, a break from the bullets, free from the heated stares of the 141. Well, at least for a while. You would go back eventually, you bag had enough supplies for a few days. As you spun in the singers free arms flashes of green, blue and brown spun through your vision. You were a little under but still alert, but with the music you let it all go. 

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On holy ground, our vows were broken

We met up, we broke bread, I was blue, your dress was red

Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was comin'

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

He pulled you closer in then, even if for a fleeting moment you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes were obsidian, reflecting the lights like stars and he sings until he’s breathless. You wondered for a moment what could happen. 

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

But as you dance the more of alert of the ladies elbows another, her head tilting subtly towards the entrance of the outdoor bar, where a familiar new set of men appeared. The girl went towards getting you but her friend stopped her as four sets of eyes found you then split up. She sent the girls a look.

Let’s see what happens.

Meanwhile you know the song is finishing and you find yourself taking the hand of the singer and he pulled you into a light embrace and spun you out as he finished breathlessly

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

He stops with a hum as the music continues for a few paces then goes out with the cheering of the crowd. You spin on the pads of your feet with a whooping feeling light in your chest, but you then bump into someone. But before you can apologize you are turned around in their arms and your breath hitches as Simon is staring down at you with dark eyes. It is then you sense another presence behind you and between you and the singer (whose hands are up in surrender) is Johnny.

The sounds of the band drown out with the depths of Simon’s eyes. There is too much there for you to comprehend. His sudden appearance breaks up the alcohol burning in your system and you stand up straighter. Emotions swirl underneath his balaclava, that alone a straight giveaway to his identity. There is anger yes, that much is evident, but you see the stinging presence of worry and something much deeper you dare not name. You turn your head away, the weight of the emotion pulling your heart back from the sky.

The singer shifted looking a little concerned, but Soap was a wide wall of muscle and kept himself close enough to brush your back from within Simon’s arms. The girls however outnumbered the men and give you a knowing look, you nod and they pull the singer away as he nods. You see Soap loosen immediately before turning and forcing your eyes into his.

Stormy blue oceans, the depth of which scare you as he nods to Simon towards the empty bar. You sigh and force yourself to loosen in Simon’s arms. He passes you to Soap and the men pull you gently to the bar where you are especially ashamed to see not only Kyle with your stuff, but a in the corner of the venue, out of noting eyes was John. Gaz with your bag, drew towards you and the four of you reached the awaiting Captain.  

Johnny stood at your right, Kyle moving to your left and Simon towering over you like a vengeful wraith, and Johnny still had not let you go. You move to pull your arm from his, but he gives you a stern look, something of a overprotective mastiff. 

“MacTavish”

“Captain-”

“Johnny.”

Simon’s deep voice rumbles from behind. Johnny hands trace down yours slowly before he takes your hand with a sigh, the tension finally releasing as his pinky takes yours in a final embrace before he finally lets go of you. He huffs and turns away in a slight pout that warms your heart and you find yourself taking his pinky back with yours. It’s a small show but the way his eyes light up behind the worry makes your heart melt. The other men trace the action, Kyle’s eyes meeting Price’s in silent communication. You all stand for a moment longer, not daring to speak, but when the wind causes you to shiver, alcohol in your system reddening your cheeks, its the weight of Simon against your back that surprises you, his arms, minding Soap’s hand, come under yours and wrap around you, his warmth melting into yours.

“‘Were worried Dove.” He leans down over you until his chin rests in top of your head and you can feel the rumble of his voice in your soul. It’s Kyle that speaks next.

“That was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done Love.” The man frowns, but his eyes move back to the singer and the group of girls, then he eyes you again sharply.

“What if something had happened?”

Its hard to move with Simon's weight on you but you shot Kyle a withering look.

“Nothing happened, I happened to be having fun.”

“But he had his arms-”

“Kyle”

John’s voice finally speaks up and the man turns away to glower at the crowd, then he reaches a hand for your free one and meets your eyes. There you see a storm of concern, a deep fondness and a bit of protectiveness. 

“We need to talk Love, about the past months.” John takes command again, something deep in his soul calm again seeing his team together. But there was time in the morning to talk. He could see the exhaustion of the day creeping into as did the other men.

“In the morning, John” SImon’s voice rumbles feeling your form sway.

“Right Simon” he nods but before turning John steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. The action jolting your heart awake and leaving you flushed. 

“John?”

“It’s ok sweetheart, sleep, we’ll get you home.”

With that he turns as Kyle and Johnny reluctantly release your hands. This leaves you and Simon as the men wait.

“Si-?” You are suddenly lifted, strong arms finding your back and under your knees to lift you bridal style. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles,

“I think I like the sound of that Love.”

And with a final turn to the crowd you manage a wave to the girls and the singer who shoots you a wink that causes a huff from simon before the man turns to follow the others.

Time to go home and as they walk, joking amongst each other with Simon’s soft voice luring you to sleep, You feel the loving eyes of the four men on you as you fall asleep. 

---- 

End Part One!

Taglist! @ghostlythots

[tanked-up]

Soap: Would ye’ torture someone for me, LT?

Ghost clearly pissed off: Can’t you see I’m busy? Piss off

Soap mumbles and gets up to leave: Sorry-

Ghost mutters: You know damn well I’ll kill for you, Johnny

(Soap grins and leaves the room)

Gaz behind them: Thought you told him about what happened with those soldiers from-

Ghost scoffs interrupting him: No need

[bigassmoonchild]

Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

Next

[bouncybongfairy]

Sleepy

Simon (Ghost) Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: After going days without sleep, you start to experience the effects of sleep deprivation: anxiety, hallucinations, irritability and lack of appetite. Ghost helps calm you down and rest after an intense mission.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Protective Ghost, Comfort fluff, Soft Ghost

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

As a new recruit, you were getting chewed up and spit out everyday. The days were slowly starting to blur together and you weren’t sleeping well. The tiniest of sounds scaring you awake at least twice a night. Or having recurring night terrors from more gruesome missions. Everyone on the task force was starting to get concerned, it was evident you were suffering from a lack of rest. The group, you included, were walking back from a mission. You were drenched in blood after going completely feral in combat. Even strangers, you were walking ahead of everyone. Making it clear that you didn’t want to converse with anyone. Walking past Soap to get to your room, his eyes widened and looked over at Ghost and Keegan. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, she just went crazy,” Ghost sighed, the situation clearly stressing him out.

“Crazy is a nice way to put it,” Keegan scoffed, Ghost shot him a death glare but he continued anyway, “don’t look at me like that bro, you were there. You saw for yourself, she bit and I repeat: bit that guy’s finger off,” he defended himself. 

“y/n did that? You know she hasn't eaten since last night? And when she did it was only peanut butter and an apple,” Soap said, taken back by this report. Ghost gave both of them a dirty look before walking to your shared room. 

He walked in and saw you sitting on your bed. You haven't taken any of your gear off, just sitting in dark silence. Unlike others in your platoon, Ghost had a first hand look into why your behavior was so erratic. All he hears at night is you tossing and turning, not even mentioning your night terrors. He just pretends he doesn’t notice, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Shedding his gear but leaving his cotton mask on before walking over to you. He rests his hand on your shoulder, making you jump up. Slightly disoriented from being broken out of a haze, you pull out your knife. Ghost grabbed your wrist, gripping it so tight the blade drops from your hand. Slowly starting to come back to reality, sinking to your knees and crying. He helps you to the ground, letting you rest your weight against him. 

“I’m sorry,” you kept mumbling weakly. Still having full combat gear on was making you sweat. He was slowly taking your stuff off, unloading your gun and tossing it onto his bed while coaxing you down. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he said, standing you up and walking you to the bathroom. 

Sleep deprivation was starting to kick in, you haven’t eaten anything in a day. After the burst of adrenaline on the mission, you could barely walk. Sitting on the bathroom floor, enjoying the cold tile against your hot and flushed skin. Ghost turned on the water, letting the tub fill up then turning his attention back to you. Resting his hand on your forehead and cringing when he felt how warm you were. He lifts you up bridal style, letting your feet dip into the water first. You jump and cling onto him so tight, it makes two of your fingernails start bleeding. 

“Holy fuck it’s freezing,” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know but you have to break the fever, and you’ll throw up if you take any medication right now,” he said, trying to pry you off him. 

“Please,” you pleaded with him, death gripping his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

After struggling trying to get you off, he was becoming overwhelmed. Your face was tucked into his neck and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. Breathing hard against his ear while unknowingly rubbing yourself against his erection. Once he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t get you off, he got into the water. Figuring he was killing two birds with one stone by killing his hard-on with the freezing water and getting you into the tub. You struggled underneath him for a while, until the small amount of strength you had was gone. Teeth chattering and sniffling as you cried quietly, keeping your grip around his neck. 

“I’ve gone fucking crazy,” you whispered, ghost looked down at you. 

“No love, you’ve just gone days without sleep,” he said, wetting his hands and whipping the blood off your face. Trying his best to untangle the strands that were caked to your skin. 

“Stop. You know, like my brain is fucked up. I’m fucked up,” you cried, working yourself up again. Hyperventilating and trying to get out of the tub. 

He changed your positions, sitting up and pressing his back against the tub. Pulling your back into his chest and changing the subject. Resting his chin on the top of your head while he talked, gripping your wrist so you couldn’t get out. 

“You know I used to have night terrors because my brother would scare me awake?” he said, using his thumb to stroke your hand. 

“Yeah?” you mumbled. 

“Mmhm, but I grew out of it, just like you will eventually,” he said. 

“I have blood on my hands,” you slurred, at first he thought you meant metaphorically. Until he saw you looking down at your palms, trying to wash the ‘blood’ off. Ghost isn’t a rookie and knows what sleep deprived hallucinations look like. In his experience, validation rather than conflict helps deescalate things.

“Let me wash it off, don’t worry about it,” he said, rubbing your hands under the water. 

After a few moments of this, you finally fell asleep against his chest. He got out of the water, changed the two of you into dry clothes before joining you to get some rest

[someonexsomeone]

In A Rowdy Room

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" McTavish x Reader

Summary: Ghost catches you and Soap in a secret moment

Warnings: fluff, Ghost does a lot of watching my bad if it's creepy lmao

Authors Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS to those who celebrate it and HAPPY SUNDAY to those who don't! I tried to do something a little fun and have him referred to as Soap when he was acting and Johnny when he was vulnerable just like I've seen others do with Ghost/Simon. I don't know if that was a good decision or not because I worry it may have made the flow a little confusing but eh. I already wrote it lmao

They were not being sneaky at all. Despite the years of training, the grueling hours, the countless missions, gone both right and wrong, one would think that at least some level of stealth would make its way into that thick skull of his. Ghost scoffed to himself, not so subtly watching the two as they giggled and talked quietly to themselves. It had been Soap’s idea to come to this bar, to mingle and take their minds off the past couple of missions, and yet here he was, tucked away in the corner with you. Ghost should have suspected he’d be ditched the moment they arrived at the bar, as it happens nearly every time he concedes to Soap’s endless nagging that he’s a shut-in with no life (no shit, Johnny, that was the point), but it was usually a hoard of people, both higher-ups and recruits, trying to get a speck of Soap’s attention and fun-loving energy. Soap really did command the mood of the room, even if he himself wasn’t aware of it.

But not this time. Ghost had arrived late, spending an extra hour or two to complete the rest of his paperwork before remembering he promised to pop in for a drink tonight. He sighed to himself, wondering if anyone would even notice if he didn’t show up, despite Johnny’s promised that his presence was needed, that the new recruits should get a look at him in multiple scenarios to see that Ghost was just as cool and unaproachable in any setting. He scowled at those words at the time, knowing his teammate was full of crap and was using useless flattery to get him to concede, but also knowing that he would do anything Johnny asked. Knew that Johnny was never going to intentionally put him in an uncomfortable situation.

One drink. Harmless in of itself, and he did always manage to have some sick enjoyment in watching the newbies squirm whenever his eyes passed over them.

Johnny spotted him across the bar as soon as he arrived. Hard not to, what with Ghost being so large. Johnny managed to pry himself away from the group that was chatting him up enthusiastically, smoothly detangling himself and slipping between the crowd on the floor. Johnny smacked a good-natured hand on his shoulder, before shouting Ghost's drink of preference to the smiley bartender. Once the drink was in his hand, straw included, Johnny steered him towards the table containing some other 141 members. Price and Laswell smiled pleasantly at him upon his arrival, but made no move to force him on their conversation. Across the room, Ghost spotted Gaz laughing with a group at the bar. Soap barely lasted a minute before a group of rowdy recruits tugged on his arm, pulling him away for some reason or another. A round of darts, Ghost thinks, but he could hardly make out what they were saying over the cacophony of voices.

An hour, Ghost reasoned to himself. No one would expect him to last longer than that, and he could safely depart. Plus, he thought, bringing the straw back to his mouth, this was some good whiskey. Who was he to waste a drink he didn’t even have to pay for?

Now, over an hour later, Ghost was glued to his chair, eyes fixated on the scene in front of him. From the table up, you looked like simple colleagues chatting away, but, from where Ghost was sitting, he had a clear view of the thing the high-top table was failing to conceal. One of your legs was gently folded over the other, splayed across the distance to rest over your companions. Johnny’s hand was absentmindedly caressing your leg, from ankle to upper thigh, fingers drawing endless looping patterns with intermittent pauses for affectionate squeezes. Ghost's drink was still halfway to his lips, having not moved from the spot since he laid his eyes on you two.

Shock maybe wasn’t the right word, Ghost reasoned to himself, but surprise no doubt. Soap was an open book on the field, his heart worn on his sleeve and his mouth speaking faster than his mind can think. A breath of fresh air in a usually bleak environment, one Ghost had come to appreciate, even though sometimes Gaz and Soap deserved a good smack on the head to stop their constant back and forths. Those moments were the ones when Ghost felt a flare of kinship with his Captain, their knowing eyes locking for a moment. A passing gaze of annoyance and fondness that didn’t need words. That same emotion was no doubt, at least in Ghost’s mind, why the two of them were so popular. Their easy ability to chat up a storm made him envious at times. And now, as Ghost watched the two of you nearly sink into each other, watched as you gently ran your fingers up Johnny’s chest, brushing over his dog tags to rest your hand on his no doubt thumping heart, your sweet face leaning in to whisper something in his ear that made an easy smile spread across his face, Ghost couldn’t help the same aching fondness for you as it flared inside him.

How many times had Ghost arrived at a party and watched as Soap practically ran himself ragged to mingle in every group, take a shot of every alcohol that was passed to him, play every game that was suggested? Welcomed newcomers and rookies that had yet to find a place amongst the others? Purposely seeked Ghost out to check on him and share his excitement to see him? All to wake up bright and early the next morning to work his butt off on missions that sometimes asked for far too much? It was only now, watching as you and Soap had a quiet moment in a rowdy room, that Ghost really appreciated all that Johnny did for them. Because in that moment, Ghost wasn’t seeing Soap, easy extrovert and deadly killer. He was seeing Johnny, a selfless man that hid behind his crooked smile. A selfless man who deserved to have someone dote on him, to care for him as he cared for others. And, by the goofy grin that spread on Johnny’s face, he had found the perfect person to do that in you.

You were not an unfamiliar face, Ghost thought as he spared you another glance. He had seen you around here and there, taking an extra second to appreciate your beauty before moving on with his day. Despite knowing you sometimes carried important files and that occasionally he saw you entering or exiting the infirmary, Ghost had no information on who you were. To be fair, there were countless people that worked on this base, let alone the hundreds that used it as a temporary hub between or on missions. After a moment of thought, he did recall seeing you a fair few times with Soap, talking quietly to each other in hallways or in break rooms, but he didn’t think much of them. Watched you hand him coffee with a pretty smile or gently fix his crooked uniform. After all, Soap was easy to talk to and highly sought after. What would make your interactions any different? Well, he thought to himself, any different before tonight. Now, as he watched Johnny move his hand to your upper thigh, squeezing it lightly and pulling you towards him in a way that had you teasingly scold him, how could he not? You two were always standing closer to each other than Soap’s usual crowd, in a reciprocal way rather than the one-sided smother Soap usually got, and on nights like these Ghost recalls seeing you and Johnny chatting more than a couple times. Ghost wanted to smack himself. How had he not seen it before, especially with both of your obvious lack of subtlety!?

Pulled out of his thoughts, Ghost spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a young recruit hustle towards your table, eyes set firmly on Johnny. With practiced ease, the two of you split apart, fainting the ‘two innocent friends that had to get closer to hear one another over the loud atmosphere’ and not the ‘two lovers taking a moment for one another’ that you obviously were. Despite not seeing it before, and only coming to the realization himself a mere moment ago, Ghost couldn’t help himself think how could the rookie fool not realize he was interrupting a private moment. Ghost watched as you both smiled politely at the young recruit in front of you, listening intently as the rookie animatedly talked and waved toward the group by the dart boards. Watched you nod politely, and then nearly jumped as the recruit grabbed Soap’s arm, unknowingly prying his hand from your leg to tug him to, no doubt, join them in another round. Watched as your face remained completely composed, but your legs drooped almost sadly back onto the floor and away from Johnny’s warmth. Separating you two once again into your own personal bubbles.

Without paying attention to his previous tablemates' questioning sounds, Ghost slammed his glass on the table, nearly throwing himself off his seat to stride toward them. It was easy to make it to them, the sea of people parted without much resistance as they saw the hulking Lieutenant coming towards them. The recruit nearly jumped out of their skin as Ghost appear behind them, slapping a hand on their shoulder.

“Why don’t I join your game, kid?” Ghost murmured, low and growly, in the same tone he usually kept reserved for the field and not a night out on the town. The goosebumps that appeared on the rookie's neck were hard to miss.

“W-well, Lieutenant, Sir, I was-, We were-,” the rookie stuttered, not even being able to look Ghost in the eye.

“Gotta problem with me joining?” The rookie turned pale, Ghost’s hand adding just a little more pressure where it lay.

“N-no, s-sir. Not-not at all, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Lead the way, rookie.” Despite his words, Ghost used his grip to forcefully steer the rookie away from the table, back towards the dart boards on the other side of the room. He spared a glance over his shoulder, locking eyes with Johnny, whose eyebrows were pinched together in confusion, questioning his usually introverted friend. All Ghost had to do was flick his eyes in your direction once to get Johnny’s face to break out in a goofy grin.

Damn, Ghost thought, sighing to himself, ignoring the way the rookie jumped, Johnny's never going to let me live this down.

masterlist  l  mw masterlist

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Trans soap!! :]

Idk why but that head-cannon scratches an itch in my brain. Like everyone being very supportive and welcoming but is also like “misgender soap you won’t live to see another day” price is vey protective of his trans son he has shirt I bet that say “I love my trans son”. laswell is also very supportive because her wife is trans as well (soap and her wife talk often). then just soap being very happy that he found a family ( another head-cannon that soap actually has big trauma just internalize it differently)

That’s so fuckin cute aye. I reckon besides Price Ghost is probably the most protective over Soap for it and has/will brutally maim someone for misgendering him, and Price turns a blind eye cause that’s his son and if he can’t do anything about it he’ll make sure Ghost finds out and does something.

Laswell obviously knows about it (cause she knows everything about them, it’s part of her job to know about her men) and she full on looked at him, looked at her wife and went, “you two are gonna love each other.”

And introduced them. Now those two have like a monthly meet up where they talk shit about their partners and just bond in general, it’s really fuckin cute and wholesome.

Soaps fuckin ecstatic that he’s found people who accept and love him and someone who he can share his struggles with and have them just understand. Every so often though maybe someone says something or one of the guys say something (with no intention of hurting Soap) but it just reminds him of something from his past and it hurts.

It hurts him and he gets insecure but Soap being who he is laughs it off. He makes jokes and and jabs at his own expense cause it’s how he copes. He found that that’s the easiest way to get out of those situations and never quite managed to break the habit.

Ghost noticed and is trying to help him stop it, tells him that it’s completely fine for him to just be hurt and get angry. Soap’s a little more open with his hurt and anger now but most times he’ll still revert to jokes and jabs, so Ghost will step in and makes sure the prick knows how wrong they are.

[mirikikashika]

This morning I was listening to Melanie Martinez and at one point Soap started.

So I imagined an AU where Ghost gets very curious about the teammate's name and starts doing some research, only to find out that Johnny's name comes from his ex-mates, who always told him to wash out his mouth with soap as he talked a lot. I want Ghost to start tracking down all of Soap's ex-mates to torture them badly, but I also want him to show up at Soap's door welcoming him in a hug and repeating that everything will be fine and that it was absolutely not his fault.

I'm sorry but I want traumatized Soap so bad.

[shtuff-hello]

I know it’s been, like, two hours since I talked about the last one, but here's another (from a different fandom this time) that more people may enjoy. Here you are.

(I specifically want to tag @mylarena cause I think you’ll like this one :))

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[bluegiragi]

slash n' clash.

full version on patreon

[radiance1]

When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page Pt 7 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

Simon spends the night over, you dream of the past, and share a sweet moment and news with the man...

Part 6, Part 8, Masterlist

Dessert passed without much fanfare and Sam stood for the dishes.

“It's getting late Pumpkin”

The name has you rolling your eyes but you stretch, popping your back as you listen to the sound of the rain. You turn to Simon who regards you calmly. His hair has dried and fluffed up, and you want to run your hands through it. Under your observation, Simon gives a small smile and you flush, turning away. The time was nearing 11 and you would need to be up to open the store on Friday. You stand out of your chair, turning to push it back in. Simon watches a moment before following, pushing his chair in before shuffling to your side.

You look up to him with a smile before moving to Sam and hugging him. Finishing up the plates he turns his head to place a kiss on yours before murmuring,

“Goodnight Buttercup,” He turns to Simon and nods.

Simon returns it as you return to him, a question in your reach.

“Ready for bed? It's not too late for the nail polish?” You ask it with a smirk, your hand going to Simon's arm. You get a humored huff at the joke,

“Sure.” 

Your lips quirk up and you turn to leave the kitchen and Simon follows, hand trailing to take yours. You squeeze his and lead him to his room. At the door, you part, opening the door to reveal a small but comfy room. It was intended to be an office but you and Sam each worked either in the kitchen together or in your rooms. There was a bed tucked into the corner and yet more bookshelves. In one corner next to the small bathroom were a few more cases of typewriters. 

“Typewriters?” He asks simply. You allow him to enter before you and you follow, approaching the corner and grabbing a case. 

“Yeah, most are rescued from around London. I work on them in my free time.” You open this case, a brown crackled leather. Inside you reveal an ultraportable, a smaller typewriter. You pull the machine out and set it on the quilt of the bed before inviting Simon to look. He finds an ivory keyed machine in a casing of grey plastic. His fingers skim over the keys finding the hammers responsive as they move with a light click. You smile at the machine fondly, thumbing the worn leather of the case before speaking,

“Smith-Corona Skyriter, it is from the 1960s. Reliable once I get a new ribbon in it. It had a few sticky keys but a little cleaning got that fixed.” 

You say it with a knowing tone and Simon can tell you care a lot for the machine. He runs a final hand over it before handing it back to you. You slip it back into the case, closing it before setting the bag aside. You return to him then.

“Do you need anything else Simon?”

He shakes his head. 

“No thank you love, ‘his is fine.” 

With that you nod and move to leave the room before pausing, biting your lip. You then spin on your feet and call his name. Simon looks down at you and you move. Pushing up onto your tiptoes you press a small peck to this cheek, brushing against warm skin before turning and rushing out of the room with a soft good night simon your cheeks flushed. 

You quickly retreat to your room and close the door softly so as to not disturb Sam. Leaning against your door your heart races but you feel giddy. You smile to yourself before. You went into your bathroom and brushed your teeth before shutting your lights off and tucking yourself into bed. The sounds of the rain lured you into a deep and easy sleep.

The sounds of a river woke you in your sleep. Your eyes open to a tapestry of stars. You were on a hill overlooking your college city. Sam and you found it while biking one day and shortly made the space under an old oak tree your own. The light of a full moon lit your way as you stood on a spread quilt. Approaching the tree you grab a branch and hoist yourself up. Eternity passes as you climb, a breeze kicking up smells of the sea despite your distance, You feel at the stern of life, and you finally made it to the top before sitting on a sturdy branch, leaning back to watch the stars. 

Here the burden of the world was shouldered by wood and bark. You hear a yip and your fox dances through the air, past shooting stars and nebula. There are smaller cries and she is followed by her kits. One of them, smaller than the others, tumbles in the air and you reach out to catch the poor thing. 

Four black paws land on your palms as the little fox steadies itself. It shakes its fur and peers at you with new blue eyes that'll darken to a rich amber as it ages. The little fox watches you as you once again lean against the tree. The weight of the editing position gave way to the thrill of your newest publications. They had been a great success. But under the weight of your new work, you found yourself missing the fox and your old home. 

Your open palms come to rest on your stretched-out legs, but the kit, ever the explorer, hopped out of your hands and into your lap. It then curled up gave a yawn and fell asleep. Your heart melts and you run your hand gently through its soft fur. It sighs in contentment in its sleep. You sit against the tree for a timeless period, head swirling with the dance of the fox and the twinkling of stars. 

However, as dawn rises on the sky there is a call of your name at the base of the tree. You peer down expecting Sam but you find a different man. He looks up with brown eyes, they focus on you intently. He calls again,

“Come on Dove, it's time to leave this place.”

Your heart quickens in knowing but your mind pulls back, looking up instead, seeking the disappearing stars. The mother fox has stopped her dance and pads down to you. She looks at you, and you reach out a hand. She butts her head against your head before looking at her kit. The kit stirs, giving a sleepy yawn, shining eyes blinking away a sleepyness. However, it makes no move towards its mother, instead choosing to snuggle further into your lap. 

Laughter passes over the mother's eyes and she looks to you a moment before looking to the vanishing moon.

‘I'll be back’ she seems to say, licking at your palm before turning and joining her other children in the air. She gives you one final look,

‘Take care of him’

You nod and she and her other kits disappear with the last of the stars. The man calls you again and the fox kit hops up and into the air, waiting for you to follow. You look at it a little shocked and it steps simply further into the air before turning back to you with a little yip. It then descends to join the man, curling around his neck like a scarf. 

You stand, bracing yourself with the trunk of the tree. Uncertainty swells but looking down you meet his eyes and find something steadfast there. He is strong, you know then. His arms come out and he calls,

“Jump dove, I'll catch you.”

You trust him then, something in your heart swelling. You ready yourself, fears of publication, leaving home, and an uncertain future weigh you in the warm sunlight. But with the echo of stars behind your eyelids you take a breath and jump, easily falling into steady arms. 

Friday

You stir and awaken slowly to the sound of London awakening, you turn onto your side, hands dreamily reaching for the fox kit only to feel the ghost of fur as you finally wake up. You sigh into your pillow, curling yourself up for a second before stretching fully out. You sluggishly get out of bed. There is a soft knock at your door and you call out a gentle come in.

The door opens quietly and Simon steps into the room. You straighten up a little at his presence. He looks around your room, taking in the sense of just, you. Books stacked in assorted piles dot the room. Cream walls are spotted with posters, and in the corner on a crate sits a teal record player with records stored below. He looks at your desk finding the Corsair. He steps toward it and runs a hand over the worn plastic. You feel a warm comfort bubble in your chest at his observation. You don’t mind him in your space and that surprises you. You shake the thought aside and stand, turning to tuck your blanket back in before crossing the small space to join him.

“It’s mine from when I was a kid. I started writing back then,” You reach a hand to brush the machine,

“It, it felt wrong to leave it.” You stumble on your words for a moment, a wave of hurt surging in your chest. What had you left behind?

A hand covers yours over the keys then and your eyes flicker up to his. 

Honey and bourbon. Or?

He dips his head looking into your eyes, his hand on yours travels up your arm and you hold in a breath, afraid to break the moment. His hand ghosts over the sleeve of your shirt before reaching your shoulder, he then lifts it. You exhale, slowly, tension releasing from your shoulders before his hand returns to span over your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek. Unlike James, this touch is gentle, reverent even, an examination of a treasure before it can vanish into dust. But instead of grasping at emptiness, Simon finds you under his hand. 

Something, someone so unlike him. A person untarnished by the horrors he’s lived, hell, the things he’s committed. Finding you was a sanctuary. After coming in for that month he returned, hearing James threaten you awoke something nasty in him, claiming to be your partner, his heart quickening in the moment before he was pleased by your shocked admiration. Then getting caught in the rain, holding you close in the kitchen. But the feeling of your lips against his cheek was a ray of sun on his dark heart. 

Something in his chest wove around his heart when he thought of you. Your passion for writing and typewriters, baking yes, but working with others. You were warm and welcoming to everyone. Johnny about talked his ear off about you, and the Fox’s Den made him feel at home. Sam humored him. The man loved you like family.

The men passed into the hallway as you remained in the kitchen. As they entered the guest room Sam turned to him abruptly, green eyes focusing in on the taller man, evaluating. Simon returns the look, not in challenge but in understanding. He knew sibling protection all too well. 

Sam seems satisfied and then speaks,

“You're a good man Simon. Johnny talks a lot about you.” He starts, a hand running along the books on the nearest shelf absentmindedly. His eyes move to the typewriters, then back to the quiet man before him.

“I get the hunch you intend to stick around?”

Simon nods, something setting on his face at the vision of your smile in his head. 

Sam nods, humming and running a hand through his hair, the curls stretching before bouncing back into place. 

He then gives Simon a serious look, eyes sharp,

“Take care of her Simon, especially in these coming weeks. I don’t trust this.”

Simon speaks up, like a rumble of thunder from his chest, 

“Of course.” It's a strong affirmation, quick and quiet, and it brings a smile to Sam's face.

“We agree then.”

Simon’s mind returns to you, wide eyes looking into his. Your hands move on their own, one reaching to his free hand and the other skimming up his abdomen to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart. 

“Si” Your voice is soft and you offer him a shy smile.

Simon just admires you in the streaming sunlight, the rain clouds having turned away into mist. The air in the room stirs, and memories of strong arms around you wakes your writer's mind. You can see the fox kit yawn and tuck itself against Simon. The sound of the ever-present sea echos into the buzz of your ears. Then there is all but silence, and you feel like the last two people in the meaningless world, the blank landscape dawning around you with the new day was yours to create. Nothing else mattered you realized in his arms, you looked up back to him with a growing excitement, in your mind, you could sense the gathering of waves, wild like a storm but tamed by the safety of what life was offering. 

You grin at him and in your mind the fox kit awakens, pulling from Simon and dropping down to your typewriter, a ghost of an idea appearing. Price was right you realized. What had you lost but, your eyes softened, what had you gained? Your hand on Simon’s chest travels up, over his collarbone, and up his neck. He signs softly when your hand mirrors his on your own face, cupping his face and running fingers along a strong jawline. 

He murmurs your name in a sacred whisper, eyes, and hand dropping to meet yours. Stands of his hair brush against your forehead, his eyes rich and warm flicker to your lips but he makes no other movement choosing instead to cherish your warmth and the feel of you in his arms. Your heart quickens and something shifts in your chest. Determination perhaps, a rush of the moment but promise of something more has you leaning up and connecting your lips to his. He is caught by surprise before his eyes close and he leans further into the kiss. 

His thumb caresses your cheek sweetly before his hand trails to cradle your head. He tilts your head to deepen the kiss before he parts for a steadying breath his heart pounding in his chest. You look up at him with a lightly flushed face, not quite having expected to kiss the man but the honeyed chuckle he lets out pleases something in you. His hand squeezes yours before moving to the small of your back and pulling you close. 

You breathe out, head tucked against his chest for a moment before your alarm for 9 am finally sounds. You sigh and Simon fully releases you, allowing you to shut your phone off. You look back to him in question.

“Are you sticking around Si?” 

The syllable rolls naturally off your tongue, and Simon leans back against your desk in consideration. He pulls out his phone checking something. 

“I’ll need to run home love.” You nod at that as there is a knock at the door. Sam waits a moment before popping his head in with an easy good morning to Simon, a knowing smile on his face before his eyes find yours.

“Morning ladybug. Sofia is here, she came around 30 minutes ago seeking you.”

You stand a little straighter and sigh. You loved your manager dearly, especially after all that happened, but the woman tired you out sometimes. Besides the point of her not just calling but you understand that this must be a rush. Maybe she could answer some questions. 

Sam then turns to SImon.

“Your clothes are in a bag whenever you decide to head out.” With that Sam passes you a wink and heads back down to the bookstore. The smell of a quick breakfast drifts in through the open door. You look back to Simon,

“I still have your jacket-”

“Hold on to it for me.”

You blink in surprise but nod a little smile creeping onto your face. You move from your bedside and step towards Simon, his hands lifting in expectation, they move to your elbows before tracing to your back, you look up at him,

“Will you be back sometime today?” 

His fingers circle patterns into your skin absentmindedly and he hums.

“If I can.” It is simple but his eyes dip towards yours and you feel at peace here with him. You nod. He watches you relax in his arms, looking up to him with curious eyes tracing a scar that goes from his chin to his next. He doesn't feel self-conscious though, not anymore. You raise a hand to trace the scar softly. 

“Do they hurt anymore?”

“Not often, sometimes there's the ghost of a memory.”

You hum an affirmative before gazing into his eyes. They are sunlit into a light hazel, flecked with gold under the rays. You enjoy the moment a bit longer before you sigh.

“I should keep Sofia waiting, besides, you need to leave.”

He nods, then leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go. He moves to the door,

“I’ll wait for you dove.”

You smile in appreciation and after he leaves change for the day. On a whim, you turn to your laptop and slip it into your backpack to take down to the store. You look to your corsair with a smile and turn to exit your room. 

Passing into the living room you find Simon sitting on his phone, his eyes raising to you when you pass into the kitchen. Sam had eaten a quick breakfast, the evidence of which was in the fridge. You grab a yogurt to take down. You look back to Simon when he enters. You grab another yogurt and some wrapped banana bread. You present these to Simon and you and he make quick work of them. 

After cleaning up you both gather your things and head for the door to the bookstore. Passing down the stairs you hear the voices of Sam and Sofia along with an English-accented voice you didn't recognize. You make it to the bottom of the stairs followed by Simon and see the three in the sitting area with a few scattered teacups that humors you. Sam’s look alerts the others and Sofia and another handsome man turns to regard you and Simon. 

Hazel eyes lift to you in warm but urgent expectation before shifting to regard the man behind you. Sofia was a woman in her mid-40s, with long black hair and a set of round glasses perched on her nose. She had taken more the place of an aunt while you were away from your parents, a close friendship cemented by long hours up late with tea and manuscripts. She also did double duty as your illustrator, and it was she who helped you paint all the foxes. 

The other set of brown eyes regarded you curiously before shooting to the tall man behind you.

“L.T.?” His accent told you he was a local, Simon tilts his head in regard,

“Kyle. It’s been a while.”

“It's been ages!”

Kyle shoots up as Simon moves forward and offers a hand out, Simon takes it as you follow, setting your stuff at the inside of the counter before joining the others. 

“Morning Sofia, sorry to keep you waiting,” You look to Kyle in consideration and he meets you with a wide smile. You return it happy with his nature, he offers his hand.

“Kyle Garrick.”

You return with your name and nod,

“Johnny’s told me about you! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

He grasps your hand in both of his and gives a cheeky wink, 

“Same love, Johnny would not stop talking about you.”

You laugh, Johnny was the equivalent of a golden retriever you thought. Kyle’s eyes move between you and Simon and you wonder what else Johnny may have said. But the curiosity passes when you see a bundle of documents in Sofia’s hand, you sigh at the look in her eyes. You pass Kyle and Simon and take the seat next to her. Kyle looks between the two of you before he returns to his seat as well. 

You look to Simon,

“Are you leaving Si?” 

He thought he needed to return home but nothing was pressing. He shifts, then mind made up he sets his bag next to your chair and takes a seat on a ottoman next to you, long legs spreading out. You offer him a pleased smile before turning back to Sofia. You find her eyes on Simon, a simmering curiosity, much like Kyle’s but with a more maternal feel. She pats your knee before going into an explanation.

“I am sorry about last night! I was in such a rush with that letter arriving! I spoke with Sam’s family, they were shocked with the notification that arrived yesterday as well.” She pulls out an official-looking document, the embossed paper making you roll your eyes. You take it and look over it. There was the general nonsense, the niceties, and such, but what got your interest was the communication of the development of a working relationship between the two publishers with the combined work of you and James. Your gut wrenches as you flip the page.

There you find a promotional tour schedule showcasing both you and James amongst some of the other authors. You scan the list and are relieved to find Sarah listed as well. You flip the page and there you find an advertisement for another formal event. Dread splinters through you and you want to burn the paper. The announcement was inviting international publishers to a gala here in London with you and James as some of the headline speakers. You didn't like the implications of the gala and the following formal dinner. Given what happened last time you don’t understand why they would want to pull you and White Owl into a stunt like this.

“I don't like this.” You speak it, your voice low and cautious, trepidation nipping at your fingertips as you pass the paper to Sam. He nods in agreement. Kyle’s eyes look between the two of you,

“Trouble?” He asks and you nod.

“Unfortunately so, I believe my ex-fiance is causing a ruckus again. He’s the reason I came here at all,” A hand presses to your knee and you find Simon regarding you,

“I've told Johnny the whole story but I can tell it again if you want to hear it?”

“Sure.”

Kyle affirms with a gentle tone, and you find yourself happy he was there. Simon on the other hand tenses and your hand reaches to his. His hand engulfs your knee easily, once your fingers brush over his he flips his palm up. You set your hand in his and he intertwines your fingers, brushing his thumb every so often over your knuckles as you begin to speak. 

You began from the beginning, moving to finish your master's, meeting Sam, and eventually getting into the publishing and editing business.

Fin - For information, this is a Smith Corona Corsair:

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost, @nexthyperfix, @feedthefandoms995

AN This was going to originally include you meeting James, but I figured all of the past stuff should be its own chapter!

[pippynsworld]

Soap's first ride as a backpack.

[1001aus]

Phantom is a member of JLA when everyone finds out that the Bats have contingency plans against everyone else.

While everyone else is shouting about trust and betrayal, Danny can't help but be relieved. He's seen his bad future, after all. Dan is reformed now, but that doesn't retroactively save the timeline he wiped out.

Danny only has one issue with the contingencies for him: Batman mistakenly believes that his intangibility works the same as Martian density shifting.

It doesn't. In fact, they're very different powers. Intangibility is more of a phase shift where he turns his physical form into energy.

This means that none of the contingencies in his file will work because they don't accurately account for one of his basic powers.

(The shouting actually gets derailed for a bit when he brings it up. All the scientists are a bit horrified about the implied energy conversions happening whenever he uses this "basic" power. As a halfa with an actual physical form, Danny should be giving off enough energy to blow up the planet whenever he transforms.)

[the-raindeer-king]

Imagine Simon's mom doesn't die with Tommy and Beth. Maybe she was out of town, or at a friend's house, and Roba's men were sloppy and missed her. Anyway, so it's just Simon and her now, and because he blames himself for what happened, he's pulled away from her.

He pays her rent, even if he wanted her to live in a nicer apartment complex. And he visits during her birthday and Mother's Day, and sometimes just randomly stops by. But he never stays very long, and he doesn't tell her a lot about his new life. It's a very one sided relationship, but she tries to make the best of it.

And then you move in next door, during one of Simon's deployments. You feel bad for the sweet lady that lives next to you. She never seems to have much company, and you take it upon yourself to befriend her, spending more time in her apartment than your own.

You learn about her ex husband, her sons, the tragedy, and most importantly, you learn about Simon. And you hate him. Mrs. Riley (she insists you call her Sarah) is such a lovely woman, and it's clear how much she cares about her living son, how hard she's trying to keep their relationship alive.

It's the second Mother's Day after you move in when you finally meet Simon. Your relationship with your own mother is complicated, so you've opted to spend the day with Mrs. Riley. You'd gotten her a small present, and had planned to spend the day drinking wine and watching historical romance movies.

You're thoroughly shocked when you knock on her door, and a man answers. Six feet, built like a brick house, but under his scowl, you recognize Sarah's eyes.

“You must be Simon.”

His scowl deepens, but before he can say anything, Mama Riley is pushing past him, pulling you into her apartment to fuss over you.

She apologizes for not telling you sooner, but your plans will have to be rescheduled. Simon's back early, and she can't waste a precious second.

You're understanding. You've listened to her worried rants, given her space to cry over how things have turned out. You know she loves spending time with her son, even if the visits are short and he doesn't talk much.

Simon doesn't miss the way you glare at him. There's a fury in your eyes, even as you cheerily wish his mother a happy mother's day. For a moment, he wonders if you're a spy. But that thought is quickly diminished, when you verbally eviscerate him at the door.

You're quiet, not wanting to upset his mom, but your anger is clear. It may not be your business, but Mama Riley is your friend, and you adore the older woman. And you cannot stand by while he treats her like this. She loves her son so much, and he needs to step up and try harder.

As you're chewing him out, Simon's already head over heels, planning your wedding as the seconds tick by.

(A/N: You can read this as a stand alone piece, but I did write 3 more drabbles (four in total!) for this! They're all on my blog under the tag mama riley au. Thank you for reading!)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4