auspicioustidings - Tumblr blog

auspicioustidings · 1 month

Text

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 3

Brose and Butter

Summary: You finally return the favour and look after Simon while he is breaking and a long building tension breaks. Words: 3k TWs: cheating

Parts: 1 2 3

The new place was nice. Bigger than the old one, better area. It wasn’t like you and Johnny had planned to live where you had been forever, you had been looking at houses before he died. Lots of bedrooms. There had been plans to fill them.

This house didn’t have as many bedrooms as he had dreamt about. One master bedroom with an en-suite, 2 other bedrooms and a bathroom on the top floor. A nice open plan ground floor with a kitchen and living area plus a toilet. A garage big enough to have a little workshop in it since Simon enjoyed working on bikes.

Because he was living there too. It had been an argument you had lost when he had insisted on paying a lot of money into the house but having the deed be entirely yours. It felt like you were taking advantage somehow given that you knew he adored Joseph so had never really went back to his own flat after he had started living with you. It was supposed to be temporary.

But it made sense in a way. He was gone half of the time anyway, so his flat was laying empty for months. This way he always came home to a warm house instead of an impersonal, dusty museum. And J was always so happy when he was home. It was nice to have the help around the house too.

You tried to ignore the amount of justifications you both came up with for the situation. You and Simon Riley did not like one another. You could not like one another. It didn’t matter if you sometimes got caught in his eyes (or that you swore they flickered to your lips, to your body). It didn’t matter if your mind wandered sometimes to imagine how he might kiss you (hard you thought, the first blow in a brawl that begged for retaliation).

The master bedroom was yours. It felt lonely, especially now that J stayed in the nursery. Too quiet, or at least it used to be. Before Simon had left for work a fortnight ago he had given you a little white noise machine. The thing had about a million settings, but in the end you found that the low sounds of snowfall on the window and a log fire always settled the anxious beat of your broken heart enough for you to sleep.

He was due back today. Not that you kept track given that he was just a housemate. Not that last time he wasn’t home when you thought he was meant to be you made yourself so ill with anxiety that Kyle’s partner had to come round to stay with you. Price had shown up a few days later to check in and explain Simon and Kyle had been delayed a week in a location with no signal but they were ok and it wasn’t anything to worry about.

You suspected he only showed up in person because Kyle’s partner had contacted him. You didn’t know what the deal was there if you were honest, the two of them had a strange relationship but whenever you asked about it from them or Kyle you got nothing but pained smiles and gentle dismissals.

God you hoped he was back as planned. It had been embarrassing enough before although everyone was happy to play it off that you had a stomach bug and that’s why you were completely strung out, hadn’t been sleeping and had been throwing up. You had almost managed to convince yourself of it at this point.

When you heard the door open and the thunk of heavy boots you should have really just continued on with mixing the brownie mix (you just felt like making them you supposed, coincidence that they were his favourite). Instead you smiled and wiped your hands off on your jeans, going to the door to see him hopping on one foot as he untied his laces to get a boot off.

“If you’re going to fall over I’d prefer you wait until J is up from his nap so he can watch.”

He swore and nearly did fall, but just about managed to keep himself upright by leaning on the wall to get the boot off. He was in black sweats, hoodie and his balaclava as he usually was when he came home. Only there was something wrong in the set of his shoulders. There was something haunted in his eyes.

“Simon?”

Your voice was gentle now, soothing. Bad deployment you thought. You had been with Johnny long enough to know that they happened, but he had been so different. When Johnny was on a bad deployment he came back with his blood up. You knew how it had went by how hard he fucked you.

And you had always taken it. Even when it got bad and he warned you off, you would open yourself up to him and let him use your body to exorcise whatever demons were lingering. His anger you had known how to deal with, you had learned how to take orders, go to your knees and take it with a ‘thank you sir’ to help it burn off. It was scary and it was painful but you would take a thousand days of that strange angry (and make no mistake, devastatingly hot) version of the man you loved if it gave you one more minute with him.

Simon was different. He didn’t seem angry at all, he seemed sad. You felt your heart lurch when he dropped his bag and stumbled across to you, going to his knees for you. He looked up at you as if you were the only thing in the world then. And you don’t know what instinct it was that drove you, but you gently pushed down his hood and pulled off his mask.

He let you. He stayed still on his knees even as you ran fingers through his hair to fix it back in place. It always was a mess when he took his balaclava off. Fuck. Having Johnny who was usually fun loving and completely willing to let you direct the action turn to an animalistic dominant beast was one thing, but it could never have prepared you for having Simon who you had only ever known as strong and domineering on his knees with his eyes wide and trusting and waiting for orders.

It was a reminder of how impossible the idea of liking this man would be. He was nothing like the man you had lost, the one you had loved. The one you still did. You didn’t think there would ever come a day when you were able to stop.

And still you spread your fingers across his cheekbones to tilt his head up and give him a stern look, one that said that he was going to be okay because you would accept nothing else. He had freckles you realised with a start. He let out a shaky sigh and seemed to take your touch as permission, falling forward to hug you, head resting heavily on your stomach.

You kept petting his hair, feeling like your brain was fuzzing out. You just wanted to take care of him for once. It was always him taking care of you. It didn’t have to mean anything did it? He was sad and you could be what he needed right now without it meaning anything.

“You’re ok Si, hm?”

“I’m ok.”

“There, that’s good. Come on, you need to help me finish the brownies before J wakes up. He’ll be happy to see you.”

Finishing off the brownies was done in a strange haze as Simon slowly came back to himself. He kept close, almost always having at least one point of contact between you. Warm hand on your waist, the heat spreading out and making your skin feel prickly. A touch of your hair that you felt from scalp to toes. A brush of his thigh on yours that had your pussy clenching. You had forgotten it could do that at such little provocation. You hadn’t thought it would ever do it again after everything.

For one mad moment as the kitchen was tidied and the brownies taken out to cool you were sure you would kiss him. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted Simon fucking Riley.

And for one mad moment as Simon fucking Riley was dragged out of a trauma spiral instead of languishing in it for days as he had become accustomed to, he was sure he would put you on the kitchen island and taste you. You, the annoying fucking princess who did nothing but make fun of him and have obnoxious taste in almost everything. Fuck.

The cry of a newly awakened and hungry almost 1 year old broke both of you from what was surely a bout of madness.

“Do you want to…?”

“Ye, be nice to see him.”

You followed behind, guilt poisoning the brief excitement at watching J react to seeing Simon back. He was getting so good at recognising different people now, his reactions bigger and emotions clearer.

He was signing already, you had taught him ‘mama’ and ‘more’ and ‘hungry’. God you could burst with pride at how inquisitive he was. A little late with his words but the doctors weren’t too worried about it. You showed him photos of his dad, tried to teach him how to say dada. You wanted so badly for it to be his first word. The poisoning guilt turned viscerally painful when you realised you hoped Simon would be there to hear it.

You just needed someone there to see that Johnny wasn’t forgotten about. You still felt like you were burning up anytime his family called to check in. Joseph was healthy and happy but everything still felt like somehow you were failing him. Failing Johnny.

That familiar guilt slowly settled as it always did, becoming a manageable, dull throb. You likened it to a headache really. Sometimes it was debilitating like a migraine, sometimes it was barely noticeable. When Simon returned it always spiked but quickly dulled down as he settled back in.

That night, after Joseph was put down with a goodnight kiss from both you and Simon, you went to bed feeling off balance. You about stopped breathing when the door clicked open and a body almost gingerly settled in next to you.

He had just been in Las Almas he told you. It wasn’t for anything difficult, the mission didn’t go wrong and he even got to see some old friends. But in the dark he bled out his grief that in such a familiar place, Johnny wasn’t there.

Much like everything else between you two, something changed without it being stated. Simon slept in your bed with you from then on.

–

Joseph’s first word was dada. He hadn’t been looking at the photo when he said it.

–

Simon heard the thunk of fist on flesh before he felt it. His anger flared and he grabbed Gaz by the collar, growling at him.

“The fuck was that Garrick?!”

Only for once Gaz didn’t immediately look to diffuse the situation as he always did when the 141 came to blows. This time he bared his teeth.

“Are you fucking her?”

Simon pulled at his collar before shoving him back, anger mixing with confusion mixing with guilt. He hadn’t fucked you. He fucking wanted to. And he was starting to think it was only a matter of time. It was an exquisite kind of torture holding you through the night as he had been everytime he was home for the last 6 months.

“Not that it’s your business Garrick, but no, I’m not fucking her” he hissed, hating that he even had to say it out loud because it felt like a lie even if it wasn’t.

“But you are sleeping in her bed.”

“That a problem?”

God of course he would think it was. Johnny had died in the line of duty and here he was living his life. The life Simon never thought to want with the beautiful, clever, funny and infuriating woman and the baby who looked at him like he hung the stars.

Gaz laughed derisively, running a hand through his hair in disgusted disbelief.

“It’s not… like that” Simon tried.

It was.

“Fuck Ghost, I never took you for a saint but I at least thought you had a shred of humanity left.”

“You think I don’t know it’s wrong to settle in with Johnny’s fucking widow?! With his baby? Christ Sergeant I’m well aware I may as well be pissing on his bloody grave!”

“You-” Gaz choked out, looking angrier than Simon had ever seen him. “You think this is about you betraying him? That’s what you’re worried about?”

“You think I wouldn’t be good to her?”

Simon couldn’t believe this is where the conversation was going. Was he really trying to convince someone he could love you? Out loud? He knew he couldn’t, he knew there was nothing he could say that would make it better. But he wanted you so much.

“Like you were in Las Almas?”

His blood ran cold.

“What’re you…?”

“Oh fuck off you twat. You weren’t subtle and I’m not an idiot.”

“It wasn’t… it was one time Gaz. They weren’t… he hadn’t proposed or anything yet.”

He hated himself. He hated Johnny. He wanted to throw up when those words left his mouth, as if a ring on your finger made any difference.

“She’s my friend. She’s my friend and I had to keep it to myself because I loved Johnny. Because I love you. I fucking picked you two over her. And now what? You can’t fuck him anymore so you’ll take the next best thing?”

His heart twisted and twisted until it was disfigured into something dark and cold. He was a monster. He was a monster because you weren’t the next best thing. He was a monster because if Johnny showed up tomorrow, he wouldn’t let you go. He would fight him for you if he had to.

“...I’m in love with her.”

“Fuck.”

Kyle Garrick was no stranger to how love fucked up everything. He hated this situation, but if Simon loved you, if you loved Simon? He couldn’t ruin it with a betrayal from years ago. Maybe that made him a terrible person. But Johnny was dead, what good would it do to ruin your chance at happiness after him and ruin your perception of him at the same time? He hoped it wasn’t the wrong decision to make.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself Lieutenant. And don’t think Captain and the gorgeous little psychopath waiting for me to come home won’t help.”

Simon knew he would as well. But now that he had finally stopped lying to himself about what he felt for you there was nothing he could do to stop the feral possessiveness that demanded he claim you.

–

“You’re just being sensitive princess.”

Oh you could strangle him. Simon had been off when you had gotten back from dropping J with Kyle’s partner. Price had been there and you had not asked why. Kyle was off as well you thought, eyes darting between you and Simon before hugging you and heading off.

It was only the second time J had stayed without you overnight. You were less a mess this time than you had been the first time at least. You needed it. You loved that kid more than anything else in the world, but you needed a break. A full night’s sleep. A night to relax which was being ruined by Simon being a bloody dick because you had asked what was up.

“Top form tonight, that why someone clocked you?”

He’d probably have a black eye tomorrow based on how the skin was already puffy and discolouring. You assumed it must have been Kyle. Right now you wished he was still here so you could thank him.

“Thinking of taking a swing? Don’t think you could reach but I’ll crouch if you ask nicely.”

“If I ever ask nicely for anything from you then I can only hope someone takes me out back and puts me out of my misery.”

You were getting angry. Of course you were. Because it was… well it was Simon. Nobody could wind you up anywhere near as easily as he did. You thought maybe it was mutual as he sneered and got up in your face, looming over you as you crossed your arms and glowered up at him. Stupid, tall fucker.

“You think I couldn’t make you ask nicely princess?”

“And you really think you could casper?”

He leaned down, arms caging you to the kitchen island, teeth seeming sharper somehow, like at any moment he might sink them into your throat.

“I could have you begging like a bitch in heat” he whispered in your ear.

It affected you. Of course it did. But you could hear the huskiness of his voice and you could feel the heat of him. You weren’t the only one affected.

“Yeah? Prove it Riley.”

The tension that had been slowly tightening for the last year snapped violently. You tasted blood on his lips when you bit into them, you felt bruises form from how roughly he gripped your hips as he hauled you onto the counter.

Two brutal and torturous hours later, thoroughly fucked every which way and still not having been allowed to cum, you did beg. You begged and cried and thanked him when he finally sent you into an earth shattering orgasm. Another hour and you were begging and crying again for him to stop. He laughed darkly and wrung two more orgasms from you even when you told him you couldn’t cum again. Only when you truly had nothing more to give did he feed you brose and butter.

The last thing you remembered before passing out, exhausted, sated, cleaned and cuddled up, was mumbling hoarsely to Simon that you loved him. Maybe it was just your head being muddled from the events of the evening, but you swore you heard him say it back as you drifted off. You swore he apologised for it.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #ghost x soap #brose is the Scots word for porridge btw #brose and butter is a euphemism for something that is not porridge

124 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 1 month

Text

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 2

Love in the Guise of Friendship

Summary: 6 months pass and you learn to deal with your grief with help from an unexpected source. Words: 3.2k TWs: allusions to suicidal thoughts

Parts: 1 2 3

13 days after the world ended

“Please take him.”

You were a terrible mother. You couldn’t even hold your own son. You hoped as Joseph cried and Kyle took him and tried to soothe him that someone would come and take the baby away from you. You didn’t deserve to have something so precious when every time you held him you wanted to throw up. A few times you had, putting him down quickly and diving for the toilet. Head leant on the toilet seat, sweaty hair sticking to it and looking at the little thing on the hard tiled floor whose eyes belonged to a spectre, you sometimes wished you would do the right thing and just die already so someone better could take him.

Kyle had stayed in your flat since the world ended. Johnny’s mother had wanted to and it was a small mercy that she hadn’t pushed. The idea of her being there made you want to lay down and let the earth swallow you up. You hadn’t seen Price although the groceries that arrived every few days had his name next to the order. Nothing at all from Ghost. You wondered if he found you disgusting. Sometimes it felt like he could see right to the heart of you. Sometimes it felt like he had seen the ugliness when your baby had died, and then he had seen it when your husband had died, and now he knew that you were wretched and unfit for love. You half expected him to show up in the night to take Joseph away.

“Come on little man, can’t be giving your mum such a hard time. If this is what you’re like now you’ll drive her right mental when you start teething.”

Fuck. The sob that came out of you was a broken and pathetic thing. It was just that Johnny had said something similar when you had first taken Joseph home. As it did at least five times a day, the grief smothered you so entirely that Kyle had to steer you into the nest of blankets and pillows you had built yourself on the couch. He was staying in the bedroom with Joseph right now. You couldn’t go in there yet. You didn’t know when you would be able to.

“It’s ok, we’ll try again tomorrow yeah?”

You managed a limp nod as you burrowed into the bedding that had stopped smelling like cosiness among a winter pine forest a week ago. You would try again tomorrow.

–

23 days after the world ended

“She can’t be on her own.”

Simon had hoped that you’d be at least a little better by now. You’d never be ok, he more than anyone understood that, but you would learn to live again. You hadn’t seen him since that horrible night. The 141 never officially attended the family funeral, they had taken a portion of the ashes and held their own memorial for their fallen brother. But Ghost had seen you, had been there in the shadows keeping watch.

He had near threatened to quit if Gaz wasn’t given leave to stay with you. He had asked him to, although he suspected he might have done it anyway. You needed someone and after seeing how you had paled speaking with Johnny’s family he had made arrangements. Mrs MacTavish hadn’t been happy to stay away, but he was blunt when he told her that despite her best intentions, being around Johnny’s family would break you right now. He was steadfast in his belief that there was still enough of you left to break.

“Garrick…”

“Don’t Garrick me Lieutenant. You… you’re better at this kind of thing than I am. Stop being a prat and get over here, she needs you right now.”

“We don’t even like each other.”

“You don’t have to. You understand each other, that’s enough.”

He knew that Gaz was right. If anyone understood this sort of all encompassing grief, it was going to be him. He had already pulled you back from it once before. But it was different this time. This time his own grief was choking him and if he added it to yours he was scared it would kill you both.

It was selfishness that had kept him away this long. Gaz was grieving too and he had been left with the responsibility of keeping your head above the water in the sea you had made of your sorrow. He had stayed by your side even when his own support system was waiting for him in his London flat. He had met Gaz’s partner a few times, he knew they would be there to soothe him like he needed. But because Ghost was a fucking coward, instead his Seargent (the one he hadn’t let fucking die in his arms) was with you. Only now the cracks were starting to show and Gaz needed to be home before he splintered entirely under the weight of it all.

“Ghost?”

“Ok. I’ll be round tomorrow.”

–

30 days after the world ended

“You have got to be kidding.”

There was no way that the big scary man in the balaclava, that you still hadn’t seen him without despite your best efforts, was this hopeless at cooking.

“S’too fucking long! Or your pot isn’t big enough!”

Oh God he sounded so unlike himself right then. Gone was the gruff, smug bastard and in his place was, dare you say, someone embarrassed. And he damn well should be in honesty. What grown man couldn’t even make spaghetti? All the pasta noodles had a section of scorching from where they had been left laying against the edge of the pot. There was a startling sound in the air, one you had forgotten existed. His eyes were wide as it carried through the room. It took you a moment to parse the sound. It was coming from you. You were laughing.

His wide eyed surprise quickly giving way to a glare over the fact that you would dare laugh at his expense only made you laugh harder, clutching at your stomach with one arm and wiping frantically at your watering eyes with the other.

“Big scary skull man defeated by Italian food!” you wheezed, your entire body clinging to the feeling of giddy lightness at this moment. “Is that why you wear it? Hiding the mortification from being outdone by” you paused to read the packet and the ridiculousness of it only made you laugh hard enough to be snorting like a pig, “Fedelini number 10!”

Ghost nearly ripped off his balaclava right there and then to prove he was not in fact mortified which would have been a disaster considering his logical brain was certain his cheeks and ears were burning red, but little Joseph rescued him from the further humiliation when he gave a happy gurgle from his high chair that had you scooping him up. You were laughing and cooing at him as you showed him the burnt pasta, telling him about the big scary skull man who was hiding his face for fear of reprisal from every Italian on the planet.

It was the first time you had held him without those storm clouds in your eyes and that awful rigidity from all the tension swimming through you. He was struck terrified for a moment that he would fuck up and this fragile happiness would shatter, but when you turned to him, making fun of him through the baby, his mouth was moving before he could overthink it.

“Your ma’s a brat Joe. She forgets that I saw her attempt at a birthday cake.”

“It was avant garde! And it was still delicious!” you said with a gasp of outrage that he would dare to bring up the great birthday cake disaster of 2021.

“You know he only told you that to spare your feelings, right princess?”

You pressed Joseph to your chest with a hand to his ear, feigning blocking him from hearing such slander.

“This is why the universe messed up your hearing J, to protect you from all these lies coming from casper over here.”

The pasta was thrown out and you ordered in (Italian of course). Now that you could hold Joseph without your gut roiling you found you didn’t want to stop, but you still paused at the bedroom door and passed him off to Ghost instead. He didn’t push it, not tonight, not after you had laughed and held Joe and not drowned at the mention of something Johnny had said. Soon though. He was getting you back into a proper bed soon.

–

2 months after the world ended

Price was staying out of it although taking great amusement in watching it happen (even if his heart felt like it was in a woodchipper watching the biggest two casualties of his war). Joseph in his arms was happy to tug at his beard and not too concerned about the fight happening.

You were like a fucking feral cat is what Ghost thought as you kicked your legs and battered your fists against his back. He didn’t really think about it when he laid a spank on your ass causing an indignant squawk from you. Maybe if either of you were willing to see one another as anything but enemies it might have caused an entirely different reaction.

“You put me down you fucking animal!”

“Language princess, little ears listening.”

Oh he thought he was hilarious clearly since you both knew Price had turned off Joe’s hearing aid the minute this started kicking off. You thought otherwise. Stupid bonehead didn’t have a funny bone in his body. Prick.

“I’m not bloody sleeping there!”

“Yes you bloody are!”

He had coaxed you into the bedroom over the last few weeks, but despite his efforts you still wouldn’t sleep in the bed and he had completely run out of patience. Compassion had been fully overruled by annoyance. You were an absolute pain in his arse and it was driving him crazy that you would be so stubborn about this.

Plus he was starting to get antsy about sleeping on the bedroom floor. Since you were on the couch he couldn’t take that, and even though the bed smelled faintly of Gaz which would have been fine, the first time he had laid down in it the bottom pillow still held a whisper of whiskey in front of a fireplace, frosted pine trees perfuming through a window. So he had slept on the floor and not told you. Then he had just sort of kept doing it.

“Jesus fuck woman!” he hissed when your nails dragged up his back as he crossed the threshold to the bedroom.

“Should’ve wore your fucking kevlar if you were intending on getting into a fight with me. I’m going to rip you apart casper.”

He laughed as he grabbed your hips and up ended you over his shoulder and onto the bed, an offt coming from you as you bounced. You hadn’t been on this bed since the world ended. The thought of it would floor you. It had taken a monumental effort to even be in the room. Ghost had only convinced you with the fact that Joe slept better with the crib in the bedroom and needed his mum to put him down for naps and sleeps.

Only now all the panic you usually felt in this room, all the horror of the idea of being in this bed, was crushed under the weight of your fury at this idiot’s smug eyes looking down at you. Not on your life would you let him win a fight. Just because he was a lumbering giant with bad taste in masks did not mean he could take you on. So instead of hyperventilating and crawling off the bed to curl up on the floor and cry, you lunged to throttle him.

When the growling and yelling stopped a minute or so later Price peeked into the room to make sure you hadn’t actually killed one another to find both of you in the bed, your back to Simon’s chest with his legs pinning yours and his arms holding you lightly in a sleeper hold. Not enough to significantly cut off your oxygen, but enough to immobilise you and have you silently simmering with rage at being caught.

There were red lines down Simon’s arms, claw marks. Your hair was a mess, mussed and wrecked from what must have been a savage wrestling match. Was that…? Price laughed as he bounced Joseph.

“Better hope she isn’t rabid Simon.”

“He started it” you grumbled, maybe a little chagrined now faced with the reality of Captain John Price seeing teeth marks on his soldier’s forearm.

Joseph perked up and chubby little hands flailed as he reached toward you. Price sat down on the edge of the bed to hand the little bundle of trouble over into your arms, Ghost’s hold loosening as his legs released yours and his arms dropped, hands finding a comfortable position lightly resting on your hips.

Neither of you put any conscious thought into the position, you sat between his legs, almost leant back on his chest with the baby cooing happily in your arms as Ghost waggled his eyebrows over your shoulder. You were both content to just lay all your attention on the most perfect baby to have ever existed and his beautiful eyes.

The woodchipper whirred violently.

–

4 months after the world ended

You didn’t know what was more startling about the fact that Ghost had just burst into the bathroom with Joseph in his arms, the fact that you were naked in the bath or the fact that you could see Simon Riley.

He sort of lived with you now, neither of you willing to be the first to voice that you were doing a lot better these days and probably didn’t need someone living in to make sure you didn’t go off the deep end. You thought Kyle was going to say something about it last time he visited, but he seemed to think better of it and kept quiet.

But in all that time you had never seen him without his mask. You had caught glimpses of a strong jawline when he ate, seen clear eyes when he stopped putting eye black on them a few weeks back. Strangely after wanting to trick him into letting you see him, you had ignored the chance of it a week ago. He had been leaning over the crib and you caught a glimpse of skin that told you he had his balaclava off. Only you didn’t walk in. You don’t know why you didn’t. Instead you quietly left the room again and stood by the wall outside, covering your mouth to smother an unexpected sob when you heard the soft sound of a lullaby being sung.

He was a wild and twisted sort of handsome (not that he hadn’t told you several times he was good looking, for such a large and intimidating man he was actually a bit of an arrogant, smug tosser once you got to know him). The scars didn’t really make you flinch, you were married to Johnny after all and while his face wasn’t too badly marked up outside of a few knicks and small lines he had plenty of gnarled scar tissue around his body. You had been married to him. His face hadn’t been too badly marked.

“Ok, hang on, let’s do it again for mum Joe.”

Simon looked almost crazed as he stuck his tongue out at your son, seemingly not bothered in the slightest that you were still very much completely naked in the bath. You would have screamed at him to get out, only as he started screwing up his nose and crossing his eyes J laughed and any concern about your state of dress or his rude interruption died in your throat.

“Oh… oh my God! Fuck wait where’s my phone! Can you do it again J? Is Simon’s face funny?” you cooed, nearly sliding and cracking your head open as you rushed to your feet and lunged out of the tub to get your phone from the counter so you could make sure you had video evidence of this moment forever.

Both an unmasked Simon and a dripping wet and naked you cooed and made silly faces and laughed along for the next 10 minutes before Joseph decided he was well and truly tuckered out from practising his new talent and conked out on Simon’s shoulder.

Only without the excitement of baby’s first laugh did you both realise the situation and blink in shock at one another. Simon’s eyes flickered briefly over you, and absolutely ass that he was he bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

“Nice piercing.”

Your face blazed red. Simon Riley had no business knowing that you had a barbell through the hood of your clit.

“Cute scars.”

Simon found the tips of his ears warming. You had no business knowing that he had a variety of scars on his face.

As if the spell keeping you both frozen in place broke, you snatched a towel and turned to wrap yourself in it while he turned his back so you couldn’t see his face. Both stood in the bathroom, backs to one another, there was an awkward beat of hesitation with neither of you knowing how to diffuse this situation.

“I’ll… put him down. I’ll put him down.”

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll just… get dressed.”

“Right.”

You were both very careful to not bring it up again, even when Simon never wore the balaclava around the house after that.

–

6 months after the world ended

It was love in the guise of friendship. Neither of you were stupid enough to acknowledge it.

–

2 hours after the fuck up of the century

“Permission to speak freely Captain.”

“Granted.”

“I fucking told ye so. Simmons has always been a shitebag, and now he’s fucked us.”

“...I won’t make you stay.”

“Aye, but we both know if I pull out of this now the world gets dirty.”

The despair settled into Price’s bones. John MacTavish should be on his way to exfil right now, but instead was on the other end of a burner phone as Price sat in the helo that wouldn’t be taking his Sergeant home as planned.

He hated this. He hated holding little Joseph MacTavish knowing that Soap was missing it. He hated looking at you and seeing the way your eyes sometimes glazed, mind drifting to your apparently dead husband. He hated looking at Simon and seeing a man slowly falling in love and drowning in guilt about it.

But he had to get dirty to keep the world clean.

So they changed the plan. Simmons had well and truly fucked it and now they needed to be in it for the long haul. John MacTavish would stay a dead man. Vladimir Makarov would be given no reason to suspect that his double agent was a triple agent, which meant a comms blackout until Soap was certain beyond doubt that it was time to pull the trigger. Nobody but him, Price and Laswell would ever know.

There was one thing asked of Price and he swore to it. He would do anything in his power to make sure you and Joseph were happy and looked after. He didn’t dare comment when after a moment, Soap added Simon Riley to that small list.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader

102 notes · View notes