asherwesley

[asherwesley]

“I Do Listen”

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

Some men wear silence like armour. He wears yours like home. He guards your nights not with guns, but with every counted breath.

────────୨ৎ────────

It’s a quiet afternoon. The kind of quiet that comes softly like dust – warm, and still, and settled. There's rain taps against the windows, and there's a cup of tea cooling between you and Simon on the coffee table. 

Simon's perched beside you on the couch, half in shadow, flipping a knife between his fingers with ease. The motion is like muscle memory, not thought.

You watch him. Chin on your knee. Curled into a blanket that still smells like him.

The question slips before you can stop it.

“Do you ever listen to me sleep?”

His fingers still mid-flip.

His eyes don’t move to meet yours immediately. He stares at the knife, at the reflection of your shape in its metal curve. 

“Why d’you ask that?” His voice, when it comes, a low, cautious breath of sound.

You shrug, gentle.

“It just… sometimes I wake up and you’re already looking at me. And I wonder if you even sleep at all.”

He doesn’t answer right away. As if weighing the words first.

Then, slowly, he sets the knife down. Quiet. Careful. Like it might shatter the moment if it lands too hard.

You watch him breathe. Watch the way he leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as if he’s holding something in, or holding himself up.

“I do. Listen to you.”

It’s so soft you almost miss it.

“Every night?” You don’t tease. Don’t prod. Just ask.

He huffs – something close to a laugh, but it falls flat before it can turn into anything real.

“There were nights,” he says, “after bad ops… after blood and noise and shit I couldn’t scrub out of my head–” His throat bobs. “– and the only thing that made sense was hearing you breathe.”

Now he looks at you.

Eyes shadowed. Bruised with sleep he never seems to get.

But there’s a softness in them too.

Raw, vulnerable in a way he rarely lets show.

“I’d count them. Every inhale. Every exhale. Over and over.”

A breath.

“Felt like… if I kept track of yours, maybe I wouldn’t lose my own.”

Something in your chest twists.

He looks away.

Eyes drop to his hands again. They’re steady, but not still.

“Didn’t plan on it,” he muses. “Just happens. I’ll wake up and your hand’s on me, foot tangled wi’ mine, and the world’s not so bloody loud anymore.”

Another pause, this one smaller.

“Could sleep anytime. Just… rather not.”

“Don’t wanna miss it.”

You don’t speak.

Instead, you shift closer. Press your head to his shoulder. Your hand finds his, and he holds on tight.

“That’s not weird, innit?” he mutters, voice gruff.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s love.”

And he just looks at you, really looks, like you've just said something dangerous. Something he doesn’t know how to carry. Something he’s not sure he deserves.

And for the first time that day, he lets his eyes close. Not from exhaustion. But trust.

────────୨ৎ────────

For a man built from scars and shadow, trust is louder than any vow.

────────୨ৎ────────

It wasn’t sleep that saved him. It was the fact he could sleep at all – with you near.

[asherwesley]

“The Catch”

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

TROPE: grumpy x teasing

​​​​​​​​⟢・・・・・​​・・・・・・・​​⟢

SUM: It turns out that even the deadliest men can stumble... when they accidentally cop a feel.

​​​​​​​​⟢・・・・・​​・・・・・・・​​⟢

It starts innocently. You're climbing down from the truck bed after a long, tiring day. Grumbling about your knees and cursing the military for not installing ladders.

Simon's waiting at the back, arms crossed, half-smirking.

“Quit complainin’. I’ve jumped out of helicopters higher than that,” he says.

You glance over your shoulder, feigning a glare.

“Wanna swap knees with me?”

He steps closer with a sigh, gloved hands raised as if he’s about to help someone twice your age cross a street.

“C’mere. I’ll catch you.”

You hesitate — not because you don’t trust him, but because he’s never offered before. Never asked to be close. Never asked for you to fall toward him.

So you do.

Facing away from him and hop down, just a little faster than planned.

And his hands catch you.

But they're not on your waist.

It’s… lower.

His palms clap firmly around the curve of your ass, all instinct and zero hesitation.

Your boots hit the ground within a second, but he still doesn't let go.

You turn your head to look at him.

He is frozen.

Not blinking. Not breathing.

The tips of his ears go unmistakably pink behind the mask.

“That where you meant to catch me?” you ask, one brow raised.

His voice, when it comes, is a gravelly mutter — defensive, raspy, like his entire brain has just short-circuited.

“Was tryna’ stabilize you.”

“Uh-huh.”

He drops his hands like they’ve burned him. And taking a full step back like you’re radioactive.

“Y’gonna sue me?”

You laugh. Loud. Honest. And when you walk past, you make sure to sway just enough for his eye to twitch.

Later, when sitting by the fire, nursing a flask, you murmur just loud enough for him to hear:

“Next time, Ghost, you can ask first.”

And the man — the battle-hardened, skull-faced soldier — has to look away, hiding the smile behind his hand.

​​​​​​​​⟢・・・・・​​・・・・・・・​​⟢

[asherwesley]

“Just Existing”

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

He’s seen too much. But it’s the smallest things that haunt him most.

───── ⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹ ─────

It’s late. You’re standing at the sink, brushing your teeth, the minty foam making your cheeks puff out a little. Your hair’s a mess, in your way-too-big-shirt – probably one of his – and you’re swaying faintly, humming something under your breath.

You catch him in the mirror.

Simon, leaning against the doorframe. Silent. Watching.

His eyes aren’t sharp like on mission. They’re soft. Too soft. Like he’s studying something he doesn’t dare touch too hard in case it breaks.

You rinse your mouth and lift a brow at him. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He blinks. Slow. Shrugs, but doesn’t look away. “…Dunno. You just… exist.”

You laugh quietly. Shake your head.

But he doesn’t smile back.

To him, that’s not small.

You, standing there in the safe, boring light of a bathroom mirror. Not bleeding. Not running. Not screaming into a comms line.

Just existing.

He watches you fold socks like it’s a ritual. Watches you chew pen caps while doing crossword puzzles. Watches you hum to yourself while making tea and doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath the entire time.

You’re the only person who’s ever made him feel like the world can pause.

And it wrecks him.

Worse than the war zones. Worse than the blood and screams and smoke and loss.

Because this?

This is what he never thought he’d have.

And every second of it feels like being in a dream he’s afraid to wake from.

So he watches.

Burns every detail into the inside of his mind like sacred scripture.

───── ⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹ ─────

“He needs to remember exactly how it felt – just to be in the same room while you exist.”

[asherwesley]

“Folded, Faded, Hidden” 

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

He carries your picture. Carries you in silence.

You’d never seen it.

Not once.

Not taped to the wall of his bunk, not tucked inside his wallet, not swiped through on his phone. You used to wonder – just briefly – if he even kept something of you when he left for missions.

But you never asked. Not because you didn’t want to know. But because he didn’t want to say.

So when he tells you – months later, after coming home with bruised ribs and a stitched-up shoulder – it’s not during a moment of vulnerability.

It’s when you’re folding laundry. Quiet, routine, domestic. That’s when he says it.

“I carry your photo,” he murmurs, like it’s an afterthought.

You pause, hands still on the fabric.

“What?”

“Printed. Small. Folded. Sewn into the inside of my vest, right over my heart.”

A beat. Then, “So no one could find it. No one could use it against me.”

There’s no softness in his voice. Just steel.

You realize then – he’s kept you close, closer than you ever imagined.

Not as a comfort token, but as something sacred.

Something worth hiding. Something worth surviving for.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Then another night, somewhere miles away —

The mission goes bad.

Extraction late.

Too fast. Too many. Blood seeps down his side, thick and hot. Leaking through the tactical fabric like black water. He’s behind cover, vision graying at the edges. No one’s answering comms. He knows he’s alone.

He doesn’t panic.

Simon Riley doesn’t panic.

But he does press one trembling hand against his chest – right over the hidden seam, the tiny flap of cloth hand-stitched shut by his own needle and thread.

And beneath it: a small picture.

Crinkled from wear. The ink faded. Folded into fourths until your face is barely visible, but it’s you all the same.

You, smiling. Head tilted. Unaware he ever took the shot.

He presses his palm harder. Breathes deep.

“Still with me.”

That’s what he thinks, right before the darkness takes him.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

When he wakes in the med bay, broken but alive, the first thing he checks is that vest. That hidden seam.

It’s still there.

You’re still there.

Always. First and last.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Later on, you find the vest. He doesn’t let anyone else patch it.

You stumble upon the pocket by accident – fingers brushing a seam that feels thicker than the others.

And when you tug the thread free and unfold the tiny square, the photo slips into your hand. Your face. Smudged. The colors faded to warm sepia. Corners worn nearly to tissue.

It’s been kissed. Or clutched. Maybe both.

Simon doesn’t say anything when he sees you holding it.

But he watches you like you’re the only anchor in a storm-ripped sea. Like if he speaks, the weight of that tenderness might crush him.

And still — no “I love you.”

Just this,

“You don’t go in my phone. You go with me.”

──── ⊹⊱⊱♡⊰⊰⊹ ────

“The first thing that steadies his breath.

The last thing he thinks about before the dark close in.

It's you.”

[asherwesley]

“If You Ever Need to Disappear”

₊˚ ✧︵‿୨୧‿︵✧ ₊˚

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

No-Dialogue Love Confession.

Just quiet devotion written in the language of survival.

CW:

Mentions of potential danger/fleeing for safety References to surveillance/espionage Implicit emotional distress (fear of loss/separation) Slight emotional manipulation (out of love/protection) Themes of abandonment (implied, not actual) No physical violence or explicit content

He doesn’t bring it up the first time.

Just slides a matte black case across the kitchen table one night, the weight of it small but unmistakable. About the size of a paperback. Sleek, military issue. No markings. No labels. Just his fingerprints pressed into the corners from carrying it too long in his jacket.

You glance at it, then up at him.

His face is unreadable – the Ghost expression, flat and still. But his eyes… they don’t leave yours. There’s a storm moving behind them, one you don’t have the name for.

“Open it,” he says.

Inside, everything is meticulous:

– A set of carefully laminated IDs, all with photos of you, but different names.

– Passports – not one, but three, under different aliases. Each one has your photo, perfectly altered.

– A phone. Burner. Wiped clean. New SIM cards. Still in plastic wrap.

– Two pairs of colored contact lenses.

– A small makeup palette – neutral tones – enough to change the slope of your cheekbones, the depth of your eyes, and an alcohol wipe kit.

– A collapsible wig.

– A USB stick tucked into foam cut precisely to size.

– A small pair of scissors and a mirror.

– Cash – crisp, untraceable, neatly bundled, international currency mixed in.

You stare down at it. There’s no hesitation in how perfectly every item fits. No “maybe this’ll help.”

This wasn’t thrown together.

This was built. For you.

“Simon,” you whisper, but he’s already looking away.

He scratches at the back of his neck, then shoves his hands into his pockets like they’re safer there.

“If you ever need to disappear,”

“You don’t wait for me. You take that and run. Fast. Far.”

His voice is low and gravely.

There’s a tremor in it – not fear, exactly, but the weight of a man preparing for a future he never wants to see.

“Don’t call. Don’t look back. Just go.”

You swallow, pulse ticking in your neck.

“Why–”

“Because I’ve seen what happens when people hesitate.”

“And I won’t lose you to someone else’s trigger pull.”

“Not when I can give you this.”

There’s no “I love you”.

No “I need you safe”.

Just this.

A kit designed to erase you from every system, every map, every pair of eyes that might be hunting.

Not romantic. Not poetic.

But so painfully, ferociously personal.

You close the case and rest your hand on top of it.

“Simon…”

He shakes his head. Voice a little rougher now.

“Don’t thank me.”

“Just promise you’ll use it if you have to.”

“You don’t wait for backup. You don’t wait for me.”

His hands are fists at his sides now.

Because this – preparing you to leave, to vanish, to survive without him – is the only way he knows how to say:

"I can’t lose you. Even if it means never seeing you again."

You cross the space between you quietly and press your forehead to his chest. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“I promise,” you whisper.

And he wraps his arms around you like a man who’s already lost too much – and swears not to lose this, too.

───── ⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹ ─────

“If the world tries to take you, he’s already ten steps ahead.”

[asherwesley]

He Can’t Look Away

•⊱ ─ ꒰ა⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅໒꒱ ─ ⊰•

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

A moment of deep intimacy.

(mutual pining)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

His weight hovers just above you, not crushing, but heavy with intention.

Simon isn’t rushing. He never does when it’s like this.

Not when the world is quiet, and you’re spread beneath him, eyes glassy, breath caught in your throat like the next exhale might shatter you.

His gaze tracks everything. The twitch of your fingers in the sheets. The way your thighs tense. The way your lips part just before you let out that sound...

That soft, broken whimper.

His breath catches.

“Do that again,” he murmurs, voice low and reverent.

You’re not sure what he means, until he moves again. Slightly. Just enough.

And there it is. That sound again.

Raw. Instinctive. Yours.

Simon goes still.

Then you feel it - the quiet tremble of his hand when it cups your hip. The tension in his shoulders, like he’s holding himself back with everything he’s got.

“Bloody hell…” he mutters, almost to himself. “You don’t even know what that does to me, do you?”

You’re too gone to answer.

He leans down slowly, brushing his lips over your jaw, your ear, his breath hot as it ghosts over your skin.

“The way you… fall apart for me…” he breathes. “Like that. Like no one’s ever touched you before.”

His words, soft and reverent, make you arch into him without thinking.

His left hand grips the sheets near your head, knuckles white. The other steadies you like you might float away if he doesn’t keep you grounded.

He kisses you then. Deep, slow, aching.

Like he’s trying to memorize how you taste, how you feel when you’re like this: completely open, lost in him.

All for him. Just for him. Only him.

“You don’t know,” he groans against your lips. “How beautiful you are like this.”

And in that moment, watching you come undone beneath him, body trembling, voice breaking - Simon Riley gradually falls just a little more in love.

Not with your body.

But with the way you trust him enough to break apart in his arms.

───── ୨୧ ──────

[asherwesley]

“Even Stone Can Break”

₊˚ ✧ ━━⊱⋆⊰━━ ✧ ₊˚

Moments when Simon Riley cries #1 Not because he’s fragile. But because he’s been strong for too long.

1. When he thinks he lost you

The mission went sideways.

Your comms cut.

Radio silence.

For two hours, Simon fought through fire and gunpowder with only one thought pounding in his skull: Please be alive. Please be alive.

When he finally sees you. Bloodied, but breathing. He can't help himself.

He walks. Fast. Desperate.

Then drops to his knees right in front of you.

His hands tremble as they cup your face.

His eyes are wide and wet, lips parted as if completely forgot how to breathe.

“I thought- I thought I’d never see you again.”

You place your hand over his heart.

“You did.”

“But I… I wouldn’t’ve survived it.”

He presses his forehead to your chest and sobs into your shirt.

Not loudly. But it feels like his ribs are cracking open.

───── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ─────

2. When he sees you hurt and can’t fix it

It’s not even physical.

Just a rough day. A breaking point.

You try to smile. Try to act like everything’s fine.

But he knows.

And something in him just shatters.

“I’d trade every scar I’ve got to take your pain away.”

You reach for him, and that’s when his voice cracks.

“I can’t… I don’t know how to fix you. I’d kill for you, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Tears spill down his face like shame.

And you kiss each one.

“I don’t need you to fix me, Simon. Just don’t leave.”

“Never,” he breathes. “Never, ever.”

───── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ─────

3. When you say “I’m not going anywhere”

It’s late.

He’s curled around you like armor.

You whisper, soft and sure:

“You’re safe now.”

“...Am I?”

“With me? Always.”

He goes quiet. Too quiet.

But then you feel it. His chest jerks once.

Then again.

Not shaking from cold.

It's from something deeper. Rawer.

He hides his face in your neck and whispers:

“Why are you still here?”

“Because I love you, Simon.”

“Even like this?”

“Especially like this.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

And that’s when he finally lets it out.

Tears soaking your skin.

Fingers clinging to you like a lifeline.

A grown man finally felt safe in someone's arms for the first time in a lifetime.

───── ୨୧ ─── ୨୧ ─────

4. The first time you say "Home" and mean him

You’re laughing, throwing your keys on the counter.

You glance back and smile at him:

“God, it’s good to be home.”

Casual. Offhand. Natural.

But Simon… freezes.

He’s still by the door.

Fists clenched.

Eyes wide.

Like he’s just been struck.

“What did you say?”

“I-uh… I said it’s good to be home?”

“You meant here. With me.”

“Of course I did.” I meant just that, Simon.

He closes the distance fast. Real fast.

Holds your face in both hands.

“You called me home.”

And he just breaks.

Tears falling freely.

A man who’s always been wandering, finally realized, someone chose him back.

───── ୨୧ ──────

Simon Riley cries quietly.

But when he does… it’s like the sky opening.

Not because he’s broken.

But because he finally found someone he doesn’t have to be bulletproof for....

[asherwesley]

“Burnt Toast, Scrambled Eggs & Heartache”

A quiet, golden morning where Simon Riley, the hardened soldier, trades guns for a frying pan… and fails adorably. But it’s not about the eggs. It’s about you.

The smell wakes you up.

Not the warm, buttery kind that makes you want to stay in bed just a little longer. No. this is different. Smokier. A little... concerning.

You blink awake. The other side of the bed is empty. It takes you a second to register that something is clattering in the kitchen.

You pad out barefoot, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and stop in the doorway.

There he is.

Simon Riley.

Lieutenant Ghost.

Six-foot-something, broad-shouldered, ex–SAS, infamous on the field and in the shadows - currently wearing one of your too-small T-shirts and frowning hard at a frying pan.

“Why is it sticking?” he mutters like it’s personal.

His voice is low, scratchy with early morning. You don’t say a word. Just lean against the doorframe and watch.

There are eggs in the pan. Or what was eggs - now vaguely scrambled, vaguely… charred. Toast smokes gently on a plate nearby, one side blackened to hell. There's a glass of orange juice. A fork on the floor. Somehow, butter in his hair.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“This was supposed to look better,” he says, without looking back. He knows you’re there. “In my head it looked like something off a hotel menu.”

You smile. Take a step toward him.

“You made me breakfast?”

He shrugs. Still focus on the task at hand.

“Tried to. You always make it for me. Thought I’d return the favor.”

“…You woke up early to cook for me?”

“Didn’t think it’d set off the bloody smoke alarm,” he grumbles. “I googled it and everything.”

You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, cheek against the warm plane of his back. He stills - not because he doesn’t want it, but because he’s always stunned that you give it so freely.

“Simon?”

“Mhm?”

“It’s perfect.”

He huffs a soft breath. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, not really. But his hand covers yours over his stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles against your knuckles.

“You’re laughing inside.”

“A little.”

“Told you I’m not soft.”

“You literally just tried to serve me burnt toast and orange juice without pulp because you knew I hate pulp.”

“...I almost punched the carton. Thought it was mocking me.”

You giggle into his shirt. He leans into it , not the food, not the success of it - you. Your warmth. Your closeness. Your joy. The real reason he tried at all.

“I just want to see you smile,” he says after a long pause.

“You do. Every time you look at me like that.”

He finally turns around.

Eyes still half-lidded with sleep. Hair a mess.

And when you stand on your toes and kiss the corner of his mouth, his whole body softens, like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the quiet.

Burnt toast never tasted so sweet.

[asherwesley]

“After The Storm”

A Simon “Ghost” Riley vignette

(Soft angst, intimacy, gentle protection)

Setting: A safehouse, late night. Post-mission. You and Ghost are alive - but barely. You're tending to his wounds in low light.

The room smells of burnt metal and antiseptic. Rain taps on the window like it’s knocking for permission.

Simon sits shirtless on the edge of the bed, ribs blooming purple under the low light. You kneel in front of him, hands moving gently as you clean the gash near his collarbone.

He flinches, just barely.

“You can growl at bullets but flinch at alcohol?” you tease, trying to lighten the air.

He huffs. A short, almost-smile on his lips. “Bullets never sting this long.”

Silence stretches between you - tired, yet comfortable. He watches you work. His gaze is heavy, but not oppressive. Just... present.

Your fingers pause as you wrap the final bandage. You don’t look up when you speak:

“You scared the hell out of me out there.”

A long pause. He doesn't respond right away. Just sits there, jaw clenched.

Then, quietly, "I saw red when I heard you go dark on comms. Thought—"

...Thought I was about to lose you.

He stops. Swallows it.

“I’m here,” you whisper.

Simon’s head lowers, forehead pressing gently to yours. Eyes closed.

"You don't leave," he murmurs. Not a question. A statement. A fragile truth he’s still convincing himself of.

Your hand finds his.

“Not unless you ask me to.”

He exhales, shaky, like he’s been holding that breath since the first shot was fired.

Then, softly:

“I didn’t want anyone else to patch me up. Just you.”

He doesn’t say "I love you."

Not tonight.

But when he finally lays back - your hand still in his, mask off, breath evening out - you know:

You are his home.

And he’d go through hell again if it meant coming back to this.

[asherwesley]

Command Me To Be Well pt.2

I'm so sorry I took this long to post, I had to make modifications and still this part is not proof read :'D So if there's

This is part 2 to the “Command Me To Be Well” fic, i wanted a happy ending but it was going to go two ways with this one, either I rushed the ending or I stretched the angst a bit for maximum relief and fluff in the end, I want to do a “sunshine after a storm” kind of fic

The text in italics are memories, mostly from the boy's pov but there are (y/n)’s too :D

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, extension of the angst, Injured TF141, MAJOR injuries, late night confessions, Poly!141, fluff, bit of relief.

PART 1

∞ Happier Than Ever ∞

“I don’t relate to you, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty”

As it turns out, transfers among the task force without a valid reason were not easy to pull off, Laswell very much told you so when you tried to apply for a unit on the other side of the country.

So the next few days were full of awkwardness between you and the rest of the unit, not for lack of trying from the boys, except for Ghost, barely managing two words to you before you turned away from them, under the excuse of files that needed reviewing or soldiers that needed patching up.

Speaking of which, the other soldiers noticed a shift in your dynamic and even under no fault of their own taking the brunt of it, mainly in the shape of a monstruos training program led by a very much pissed off Lt. “Ghost” Riley. It was almost a common occurrence from the last few days that soldiers arrived exhausted at the med bay with dizzy spells or injured ankles or even passed out from exhaustion. Desperate for some sort of relief in their “punishment” some of them tried to convince you to go to the training grounds and have a talk with him so that maybe he could tone it down out of concern for their fiscal health. You refused. Not because you didn’t think they deserved it or something like that, but because of the glares he had been sending to you since that day. 

The Death Stare, is what the soldiers called it. Even the mention of your name would get the poor soldiers under a heavy gaze full of hate, needles to say when you tried to speak to him regarding injuries or his medical history he would just turn away not before looking at you like he wanted to murder you.

Johnny tried his hardest not to look at the spot in the dining hall where you used to sit on your breaks, a task that he couldn’t really manage to accomplish due to the weight of guilt that hung heavy on his shoulders since that day, the words you spoke replaying in his head like a nightmare.

- I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- 

He tried to apologize over and over again but you always shut him down, not giving an inch. Out of pride or hatred he couldn't tell but … your eyes… your sad (e/c) eyes adorned with heavy dark circles under them, made the regret multiply.

-Don’t sweat it, Sergeant, let’s just don’t let it affect our work- you’d say with a tight lip smile and a tired sigh. 

But that was just it, it may not affect you but it sure affected him… more than he cared to admit, he never thought that he’d miss your shining eyes and blushing cheeks, that he’d miss your shy giggles and the way you’d follow him around base with a box of cookies or a bag of gummy bears that you’d share. Oh, how he regretted every word that came out of his mouth that night but by all the Gods above, he would fix it. He was a stubborn one after all. 

Kyle was a bit harder to read, for such a calm and collected man he was feeling like shit. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, not like Johnny or the captain tried to. He tried a more “actions over words” type of approach, trying to make sure you’d still take care of yourself and if you noticed it you didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he was about to give up, until one night where he stayed up late. It had been a rather slow day and he tried to catch up on his reading before they were inevitably deployed. He sat in a corner of the hardly used couch in the break room and there he stayed for a few hours until it was dark out, the clock reading almost 2am when he averted his gaze off of the pages. Setting the book aside, he stood up and stretched, a few joints popping while doing so. Recovering his book, he left the break room and headed for his dormitory. On the way back his mind drifted back to you and the way you always seemed to have the utmost care when patching him up, the way your brows would frown in concentration and your lips seemed to purse a bit. He remembered the time they came back from a mission, Kyle sporting a huge gash to his side and almost passing out when they landed. He remembers your voice, reassuring him he would be okay and giving instructions to the nurses who worked with you. He passed out but when he woke up there you were, still checking in on him.

The sun shone in his face, stinging his eyes when he tried to open them, the beeping of the heart monitor ringing in his ears and the distinctive smell of the med bay seeping into his nose. He groaned trying to get up, only to be stopped by your gentle hand guiding him back down. 

-Easy there, Sarge. You took a nasty cut to your side and lost a lot of blood, you’re lucky it didn’t go any deeper otherwise I don’t know if you’d been able to make it.- His eyes opened completely  and focused on your form standing next to his bed, with a gentle smile and tired eyes, no doubt from staying up all night saving him. With the sun giving you a different glow, he thought you looked almost angelical.

-It was a bit of a challenge to get the boys off of your side, I think Ghost threatened me when we took you to surgery.- you said with a small smile and a knowing look. 

-Something about framing me with murder of a ranking officer if I didn’t save you- you took a step back to check on his vitals in the monitor.

-I…-  He croaked, the lack of lubrication in his throat making it difficult to speak- I thou’ I was a goner fo’ sure- The reality sinking in once he was completely awake, the thought of not seeing the boys again forming a few tears in his eyes, you didn’t comment on them and he was grateful.

-Don’t worry, Kyle.- You said as you approached him and placed your hand in his arm, his name falling from your lips with such care that he felt a blush creeping up to his cheeks and looked away from you. 

-I won’t let you die on me, not when you need to go home- 

It was the way you said it, so gentle and reassuring. Letting a few tears escape, he felt your hand retreating and heard you moving around the room. It wasn’t until he heard the door open and your voice calling for the captain that he let the tears slowly and silently flow. 

-Captain, you can come in now, he’s awake.- Next thing he knew rough hands were cupping his face and turning his head, he saw the captain… no… not the captain, this was John he was seeing. Worried features and red puffy eyes. THAT  was John.

-You ok there, sarge?- his voice dripping with relief and fondness. Kyle stayed silent but gave a gentle nod. He soon heard other footsteps and turning to the door he saw Johnny and Simon, they approached with care. Johnny with a wide smile at seeing him alive and Simon with relief in his eyes, the baclava obscuring his face but they knew. Oh they knew their Lieutenant. 

- I’ll give you a moment, if you need me I’ll be right outside- your voice was soft but caring. Neither of them turned your way, except for the captain who turned back to you.

-Thanks Doc- he said with a tiny smile, at this yours grew a bit wider.

-Of course, cap- and with that you exited  the room, leaving the boys together to process what happened.

The memory brought a small smile to his face and he subconsciously reached for his side, where the now scar was. As he approached the barracks he walked by the med bay, where he saw that the light was on. He peeked through the small window and found you asleep over a few files, with a small smile and realizing a tiny sigh he walked in. Thanks to his years of service and the ability to walk almost imperceptibly helped him at the moment, very carefully he picked the throw blanket you had in one of the chairs before your desk and placed it on your shoulders. He heard you release a small sigh of relief and at that he let out a small chuckle. 

-Hav’ ye always been this hard’eaded?- he said in a low tone, trying his hardest not to wake you.

-We’re really sorry ya’ know?- He said it in a whisper, he didn’t really expect you to answer him, the way your chest was rising and falling made it clear that you were not conscious. 

He went for the exit and shot you a last glance before he left just as quietly as he entered. 

-I know- just a whisper… but he heard it, a small smile making its way to his lips.

-Goodnight, Doc- and so he left with a slightly better heart and in a better mood. 

“You made me hate this city”

Things seemed to be looking a bit better, at least you weren't entirely avoiding them now. 

And so, Soap saw his opportunity one morning and decided to talk things out with you.

There he stood with a little bag of pastries and a cup holder with two coffees, he had a whole speech prepared for this moment. But the moment he stood in front of your office door, he just couldn’t move. 

You could hear the shifting of his feet on the outside of your door, it had been a few days since he last tried to speak with you so you decided to take the next step, literally. 

You stood up from your desk and headed for the door, you opened it just as he was about to knock.

It is a funny sight, to see a man of his stature and build look like he was caught red handed, which he was. 

-Hiya there, sarge- And oh how he missed it the way your little smirk would accompany the way your head tilted a bit to your side as you looked up at him, it made him feel things, needy things. 

-Hiya the’e, doc- he said in a low voice and a small smile, he looked at you as if it was the first time he ever did, your hair pushed back with a headband letting him see your pretty (e/c) eyes. 

-May I com’ in, doc? I brou’ coffee and thos’ pastrees ye lik’ so much- It was the most gentle you ever heard him talk and it was heartwarming and really how couldn’t you say no to chocolate spread pastries and warm coffee.

-Come in, then.- You stepped to the side and he let himself in. 

You watched him for a bit before closing the door and making your way to the desk. 

You took a seat on your chair and signaled him to sit down, you cleared the few files that were littered across the desk so he could set the coffees and the pastries down. After everything was settled he reached over the desk to pass you your coffee, which you took from his hand accidentally brushing your fingers with his, you felt a little blush come up to your face. He sat back with a little smirk at your blushing face and sipped on his cup. You stayed there relishing in the silence and just looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. His beautiful blue eyes just staring back at yours, a little fondness to them but also with something else. Something that you really couldn’t figure out yet but had your stomach do a little flip. You stayed there for a few minutes just looking at each other, you couldn't help to release a little chuckle at the softness of it all. As if he’d never almost pinned you to your desk in a fight that day. 

-Some’in on yer min’, doc?- he said with a teasing tone, one that had you looking down at your desk to try and avoid his piercing eyes. 

As you looked up once again, you asked the question floating in your mind ever since he came in.

-Why are you here, John?- You’d never called him that, but it felt kinda nice saying his actual name. It felt good. 

-Shit, doc. I ain’ been call’d like tha’ since my ma was royaley pissd off at me.- The biggest grin plastered on his face as he said it, quickly changing to a light smile as he saw your gentle serious one. 

-I came t’ apologize, doc.- He looked down at his lap, not really wanting to meet your eye.

- I actet like a fecknig fool, I knew from the baggining you tried to geta long, but I jus…, I guess I realey couldn’ and wouldn’ want ta let ya in cos…- he went quiet, there was something else he wanted to say but saying out loud was a bit more difficult than he care to admit. 

-Johnny, it’s ok- His eyes shot up at you and he could see the smile on your face, a genuine forgiving smile. One that he would hold on to, even when he went onto the darkest of places. 

-I must admit I may have come on a bit too strongly and first, I know it could sometimes be a problem.- The sincerity in your voice was not lost to Johnny, almost as if this wasn’t the first time you had this conversation.

-And uhm, it’s not that I was mad at you for being annoyed with me.- At this Johnny frowned in confusion.

-Then… wa’ was it?- He was genuinely at a loss, he couldn’t really figure out what it was. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, watching him furrow his brows and tilt his head to the side was cute, like a puppy. 

So you took a deep breath and said it… What was bothering you…

-It’s ‘cause you didn’t tell me from the beginning- His eyes were focused on you, your giggle sounded really cute but the reason behind it wasn’t something he expected.

-You’re not the first nor the last to say those things about me- His eyes widened and he felt the guilt starting to form in his chest

.-I…I’m sorry, doc…- He felt the shame rising in his chest along with something else, a tiny rage, a sense of protection coming over his entire self.

-You don’t have to worry about it, Sarge- Your smile was disarming, the genuine forgiveness coming in waves taking a hold in his heart. 

Blushing he smiled back and oh god, what a beautiful smile. All boyish and charming he looked so pretty… so you blushed.

-So, Sarge… wanna take the first bite?- The sly smirk and your low voice sent a tingle of excitement down his spine. 

-Ahh…I.. Eh yea’ yea’- his brain short circuited but it felt amazing, he reached for the chocolatey pastry and smiled.

You’ll be the end of him

“And I don’t talk shit about you…”

Something Price always found amusing was the way Simon would find “refuge” in his office when he didn’t want to deal with… anything really.

He would sit down in a chair, fold his arms and sulk, just staring at the wall and huffing.

First time he did it, Price tried to talk to him and all he got was grunts and hums. By the fifth time he sulked in his office, he just let him stay there for the afternoon and only addressed him after he finished his paperwork. Leaning back in his chair he stretched out and felt the satisfying pop of his back and arms.

He turned to look at Simon, who already seemed to be looking at him, a gleam of hunger in his eyes.

-Interested in a drink, Lieutenant?- He asked with a slight smirk and a tilt of his head, a soft satisfied growl was heard from the giant man as he stood up and made his way to the captain’s desk.

-I take any’hing ye give me… sir.- his seductive voice was muffled a bit by the baclava adorning his face but the tone was enough for Price to feel the effects of it in the most intimate part of his soul.

-Careful, Lt.- His eyes scanned the form of his second in command and found himself a bit hot under his uniform. The way that only a few words were affecting him made it so hard to resist, Simon knew exactly what to do and say to push his captain’s buttons and make him feel just the way he wanted to.

-Ye know we can’t be doin thi’ ‘ere- his voice was gruff and low and oh so inviting, his words were one thing but his body… it said something else entirely. 

-I den’ see ya resistin’- Simon caressed John’s face in a gentle manner, it was so gentle and so warm that he couldn’t help but lean into his hand. 

-Lieutenant, please.- His eyes closed and felt Simon settling into his lap, instinctively he wrapped his arms as much as he could over his wide hips helping his second in command to adjust to the size, when he opened his eyes he swears he felt something stir in his stomach, it was as if he saw them for the first time. The deep blue connecting with his in a very gentle and beautiful manner.

The intimate moment was held for a few minutes, relishing  in the silence where they stayed for a few more minutes trying to forget everything that had occurred for the last week. 

“Never told anyone, anything bad…”

The rising and falling of the captain’s chest was steady, however breathing was a bit difficult given the tattooed arm that rested across it, he turned his head to watch at the giant man that stayed with him all through the night. The silence was broken by the sound of the telephone ringing had the captain stood up from the bed to answer it, being a difficult task due to the insanely quick reflexes of the lieutenant, as carefully as he could he removed Simon’s arm and stood up to receive the call.

In the quiet of the morning Simon stirred in his sleep, he stretched his arm trying to find the warmth of the captain instead finding cold sheets he bolted right up, as he stood up, the captain came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his hips.  He sat down in the bed, and caressed Simon's  hair while he informed him of their next assignment, one that would require you on the field since it would be a rather long deployment, “almost a month long assignment” he was told. So they couldn’t afford to bleed out while waiting for their extraction.

The growl that came from Simon’s throat was a dangerous one, he still hadn’t completely forgiven you for shoving Johnny, the rage stirring in his stomach at the thought of that day. 

-Ye’ know tha’ ye hav’ to get along with ‘er, ‘ight?- John tried everything he could for the past week to get you too to maybe bond a bit, but it was a tough task. He had been rude and you hadn’t backed down either, for every rude comment he made you responded with an equally cold and spiteful one. 

He didn’t like the idea of you joining in but… orders are orders. 

- Yes captain- 

And so one cloudy cold day with a medical bag strapped to your back you boarded the plane with your squad ready to be deployed. Not knowing what came ahead.

Tagging (If you'd like to be added to the taglist please comment here :D) : @blackhawkfanatic - @beebeechaos - @d3vils-adv0c8 @azkza - @asherwesley - @prayin-for-the-sun @xbubbleduckx - @blepleaxelotle

[asherwesley]

First Post

Sooooo this is the first fanfic I write, the current obsession is Call of Duty. Have I ever played the game?? No. Am I gonna play the game? Yes, I've downloaded the mobile version :D. Do the characters match their game personality? Probably not, the only source I have of them are other fanfics and edits I saw on tiktok JAJAJAJA.

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, bit of a sad ending, drunk confessions, overheard conversations, PAAAAAAAIIIIN (maybe I’m just projecting Enlgish is my second language so please be kind xd

∞ Command me to be well ∞

“There is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin”

In all honesty, you weren’t supposed to be there. You should’ve been in the med bay, you should’ve been filing reports on the last mission and updating medical records.

You’ve been assigned to Task Force 141 as their base doctor, having no experience in the field you remained back in HQ until they came back from deployment. You quickly realized they didn’t fully trust you as a doctor, whether it was due to your civilian background or a misjudgement of your abilities, you never knew and frankly you didn’t want to. You tried not to be a bother, you knew their job was hard as it was, so you tried a friendlier approach, making sure to try and interact with them if even at a minimum. 

Instead, you were faced with a hard cold truth, one that you hoped had vanished with a few friendlier words in your direction… you weren’t wanted.

Time seemed to move slower as the last few minutes replayed in your mind. 

The guys were sharing a much needed drink after a rather difficult mission. Letting the façade fall down for a bit, the whiskey loosening tongues and bringing to the surface feelings that could no longer be held down.

You were walking down the hallway that led to Price’s office, a bit of a pep to your walk and a container of baked goods in one hand and the files that needed his signature on the other. You knew they’d be a bit peckish after their mission so you thought ahead and brought some pastries that you knew they liked, even though Simon always said that those were more sugar than bread. In an instant the door to the Captain's office was at reach so you balanced the files over the container. 

-She’s jus so fecking annoying, y’know ?-

You stopped right when you were about to knock on the door, hand midair. 

-I ge’ tha’ we’re suppose to get along seein tha shes the fecking doctor- 

What?  Your breathing stopped and your body shivered

-Bu’ I jus can’t seem to tolerate’ er- the voices seemed a bit muffled by the closed door but still the volume was loud enough for you to hear… Listening as you stood there frozen, wishing that you couldn’t. 

-C’mon Johnny, she can be a bi’ annoying, sure.- Ouch 

-Bu’ she does ‘er job properly and at the end o’ the day, tha’s why she’s ‘ere fo’. - 

Kyle seemed to try and reason with him but even his own voice sounded strained. 

The beating of your heart going wild with every second that passed, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. They couldn’t refer to you right? Maybe, maybe it was someone else on their mission…

-Y/N does a good job, lads.- That’s the captain’s voice… Fuck…

-I get tha’, is jus… she keeps sticking t’ us like feckin glue everywhere we go- Oh no…

The tears were freely flowing now, not wanting to believe what you were hearing, sure you weren’t the most serious person but you never thought that would be a problem, specially after everything you’ve done with and for them. 

-Maybe you’ should stop inviting ‘er everywhere with us then- 

-Is no’ like I want to, Lt.  Bu’ she jus… pops ‘ere everytime I try and talk to all o’ you .- 

“Maybe I should go… But… my legs are not moving” 

-S’ your fault for flirting wi’ er when she came roun’ the firs time- Kyle was annoyed, months of interaction helping you to recognize the tone in their voices.

-Y’kno tha’ he does tha’ to everyone.- Simon sounded so sincere that you couldn’t help to feel stupid, as if you were just a joke. Another one of the bunch… 

-Lads, c’mon… She’s jus’ doin her job- Price was tired and he could already feel a headache starting to form in the back of his head.

-She’s a nice girl, ‘sides you kno’ tha’ i couldn’ stop Laswell for saddling ‘er with us- 

That was it, you never thought that they didn’t want you. They were a bit standoff-ish in the first few weeks or so but that was because they didn't know you… right? They were a tight-knit group, it was perfectly natural to not trust an outsider with their health, right? 

They became friendlier in the last weeks, actually letting you patch them up rather than doing it themselves when you weren’t in the med bay. The first one that apparently seemed friendly to you was Johnny, making you blush with his flirtatious ways but at least making you glad that he was starting to open up a bit, Kyle and Price being a bit on the quiet side but at least no longer just completely silent while you fixed them up and Simon… well he was still not talking to you or acknowledging you.

Knowing that all of your efforts were for nothing made you feel useless, it had nothing to do with your job, you knew you were good otherwise you wouldn’t have been assigned to the 141. 

So with a deep breath and a new goal in mind,  you turned away and left files in one hand and a slightly crushed box of pastries.

“In the madness and soil, of that sad earthly scene”

You didn’t sleep a wink since that moment, pouring yourself over the medical files that needed your approval for final submission.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn’t hear the knocks at your door, only looking up when you heard a cough to get your attention. 

There stood your captain, looking very tired and you already could see the headache seeping into his usual calm demeanor. 

The urge to offer him a tea cup or a mild remedy for his head crossed your mind, he looked really tired but after what you heard last night you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

- Is there something you needed, captain?- your voice came out a little bit tired and sharper than usual, something that didn’t went unnoticed by the captain

-Yeah, kid. The reports from the last mission, do you have’ em?- He narrowed his eyes a bit at you, as if trying to figure out what happened. 

-Sure, let me get them for you- you stood up and moved to the cabinet next to your desk, there you took them off next to where the box of pastries remained intact and went ahead to give the to  the captain. 

- Here, all of the medical procedures and recent injuries are already stated. All they need is your approval so your medical history can be updated in due course- 

You handed him the files and turned to look at him, his face was a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. This side of you was new to him and he didn’t quite like it, where once you were all smiles and cheerful disposition now stood a sad look and a blank face, as if the very sunshine was taken from you. 

-Is everything all righ’, kid?- he found himself asking, you sighed loudly and headed back to your desk.

-Don’t worry about me, captain. Is just a rough patch, that’s all- You sat down and started to go over the files laid out before you.

-Alrigh’, if you need anything…- he watched you for a few seconds and then turned away and left.

A sour mood was felt across the base and from the interaction each of them had with you over the course of the week … there was definitely something wrong. 

Johnny tried flirting with you, but instead of being all giggles and blushing mess you just looked at him with a tight lip smile and continued as if he never talked to you, even when Kyle came in to your office for a quick fix up of his most recent stitches you remained completely silent, only talking to give him instructions on how to take care of his injuries and when to take his pain meds. Price’s office was a bit quieter than usual, without your usual self trying to warm up to him with an equally warm cup of tea or coffee in hand to help him through his headaches, even Simon felt the shift in your behavior, when crossing in the hallways or the break room being greeted with nothing more than a call of his rank and quickly leaving. 

The boys went into the cafeteria that same week and were surprised to see that while to the other soldiers you were still friendly and smiley, to them you were nonchalant and seemed almost way too professional. And that was upsetting everyone, so when you finished your lunch and went back to your office, files and coffee in hand they all decided that enough was enough.

You hadn't even finished entering your office when the four men burst in right behind you. You turned around with a scared look and a squeak of surprise at the sudden intrusion, the coffee almost falling from your grip and the files clutched to your chest. The boys all looked at you with a mix of annoyance and betrayal and you felt small, very very small. 

-What the hell is wrong with you?- your voice was a bit raised from the fright you were still recovering from, as you walked to your desk to leave the files and the coffee, Johnny spoke up. 

-Us? Wha’ e’ ‘ell is wrong wit you?- You turned around with a very deep frown etched into your face. 

-What are you talking about? You’re the ones that burst into my office like a pack of wild animals.- A very annoyed Johnny stepped right up until he was face to face with you. 

-Johnny calm down, mate.- Gaz’s voice was heard over Johnny’s loud breathing. 

-No, no’ until she’s told us jus’ wha’ in the living fuck is wrong- His voice was dangerously low, and it was fucking terrifying. 

-First of, back the fuck off, sargeant. I may be just a bloody fucking nuisance but i’m a doctor and I will break every bone in your body while naming them- A surprised look flashed through everyone’s faces, you’ve never talked to them like that before, and when Johnny didn’t seem to back off, you pushed with all your might and managed to make him to stumble back a bit. 

At that moment Ghost approached him and held him before he could fall, but the look he gave you, was right down murderous. A chill ran down your spine and your instincts screamed at you to run but your legs didn’t seem to work. Price at seeing the angry look on both of your faces quickly stood in front of everyone and yelled at both of you to cut it out. 

-Y/LN, you’ll apologize this instant or you’ll be subject to a reprimand for assaulting a ranking officer.- Price knew at the moment those words left his lips… he’d fucked up. 

-Excuse me?- You turned to look at him, furious. The nerve of these men…

-You think that you can burst into my office, to then demand an answer for which I do not know the fucking question to and THEN reprimand me for protecting myself against a man that got way into my personal space?- 

Your voice was raised, you were very very pissed off and the boys knew it, they knew they weren’t the best when it came to you, almost neglecting your care due to years and years of trust issues. They knew it wasn’t fair to you, but still when the only ones taking care of them were themselves, they just couldn’t trust you completely.

- I have tried SO hard to have you guys to trust me, GOD KNOWS I’VE TRIED and you won’t let me.- You felt the tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the faces of shock in the squad just made you feel worse. 

You hated yourself for crying, but the anger in you, the betrayal and the sadness were all out there now, so might as well just tell them everything. 

-I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- His eyes widened, he knew exactly what you were talking about and the others seemed to remember the conversation they had a few days prior. 

-You’ eard o’r conversation?- Gaz seemed a bit angry and confused, how the hell could you have heard them if you weren’t supposed to be in the building. 

-Yes… I know it was wrong… I needed the captain’s signature on all of your files so your medical records could be updated..- The realization dawned on the captain, that’s why you were so down the next day… You heard everything. 

- But… I guess it was ultimately for the best- Your voice a whisper as you looked at them. 

-If you’re that unsatisfied with my care, I’ll ask the brass for a transfer.- The determined look on your face was like a slap in their faces, you were really going to leave them. They needed to fix this but neither of them said anything, you took a deep breath and left the office, leaving the four men standing dumbfounded in your office.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” a thought, accompanied with the memory of utter anger and sadness in your face that will hunt the squad for the rest of their lives. 

They needed to fix it… soon. 

“Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

SOOOOOOO this was my first piece, i'm really sorry if it’s not the best so please forgive me jajaja.

If you liked it please like and reblog, I would like to keep writing and knowing you like it will make me very happy.

Jejejeje feedback is appreciated <3