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#codmw2 fanfic
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Tells | Ghost x Secret Wife! Reader
Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader
Warnings: blood, wounds, pregnancy, 🥺
Edited: No
A/N: I really wanted to do my own take on this idea. Hope you like it.
Masterlist
Character banner ©️ Me
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Johnny wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it before, after being introduced to his Lieutenant’s wife. There were small, subtle tells that gave away Ghost having a significant other, but he never put the pieces together. Honestly, Johnny was a little upset because he’s in the SAS- he should be able to see things like this. 
The first time he noticed something was strange with Simon was when they were gathering their gear right before going to another mission. They were placing the last of their equipment into their bags. Simon had not put his black skeleton gloves on yet so his wrists were exposed. Johnny didn’t notice anything different until Simon rolled up his sleeves like usual. And there it was. 
A hair tie. 
He didn’t think much about it. Maybe he found it laying around the base. No. That would be weird and there weren’t that many women frequenting the same places as Simon anyways. 
Could he be using it to snap at his wrist when or if he got anxious? Nah.. Ghost stays focused on missions. Johnny doubted Ghost would let anxiety pull a fast one on him in the field. 
Oh! Simon is definitely growing his hair out. Johnny wondered if his balaclava was comfortable with long hair. So he pointed it out. 
“Growing your hair out L.t.?” His lips curled into a little smirk. 
Simon looked up from the full magazine in his hands. Only his eyes gave away his confusion. “No? Why?”
“Your hair tie.” Johnny nodded to his right wrist. “Never took ya for a purple-wearin’ kind of guy, sir.”
Ghost blinked at his Sergeant and then glanced to his aforementioned wrist. Sure enough a bold purple hair tie was bound to his lower arm. Simon was sure he had removed it before leaving home earlier that day. 
“Oh… must have forgot.” Simon spoke absentmindedly. He was remembering his wife. He had gotten home before her and when she came he helped her remove her ponytail, completely forgetting about the hair tie once their kisses got the better of them. 
Simon didn’t say anything else, so Johnny shrugged it off and continued filling his bag with ammunition. Not even two minutes after he forgot what they were talking about when Captain Price called them over. 
~~~~~
The next time something was different with Ghost, Johnny wasn’t even the one who noticed it first. It was Gaz who pointed it out. 
After a long and hard mission, Task Force 141 had finally arrived at base. The team desperately needed showers, so right after hoping off the helicopter everyone went straight to their barracks. 
After their most loved showers everyone went to the mess hall for some real food and not the field MREs they had been eating for the past few weeks. There Kyle had already gotten his portion of food and was digging in. Soap and Price were sitting across from him too, but no Ghost in sight. Simon came in almost halfway through their dinner and sat next to the young Sergeant. The food on his tray was not being eaten. 
That’s when Kyle smelled it. A fruity smell was wafting from the freshly showered SAS powerhouse next to him. Ghost smelled of fresh cut pomegranates and some other fruit notes. It took him by surprise. Kyle would have normally pictured Ghost as a strict standard-issue soap kinda user, not a fruity one. 
“Did they change the regular soaps, sir?” Gaz took the risk. 
Johnny had finished chewing and looked up at his L.t. and Kyle with a questioning look. Then he leaned forward on the table to take a sniff. 
“Is that pomegranate, L.t.?” Johnny chuckled. He’d take any chance to tease his superior. 
Ghost gave them a subtle glare. He had hoped no one would have noticed his mistake. He’d been in a hurry to leave home and well…
“I grabbed the wrong bottle.” He deadpanned then turned to Price, who was shaking his head in disapproval at the two, to ask about any new leads. Clearly, the conversation was over. 
~~~~~
The third time was when their mission went FUBAR. Ghost and Soap had gotten separated from Captain Price and Gaz when their enemies tried to ambush them. In the chaos Soap was shot in the leg, but with Ghost’s help, he was able to escape and hold out until it was safe enough for them to head to the rendezvous point for extraction. 
Now that they were relatively safe, Ghost was searching his packs for supplies to help Johnny with. Johnny wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to what he was doing since he was bleeding out and moaning in pain, but he definitely noticed when Ghost used a tampon to plug the gunshot wound in his thigh. 
“Fuckin’ hells, Ghost! Where’da fuck yous get a bloody tampon from!?”
“It’s an essential tool for survival.” He honestly had no idea how that slipped into his med pouch. Johnny guessed it was so if Ghost had said it. 
~~~~~
Next time they were somewhere in Africa, most definitely melting with the heat. A great bonding experience for the two of them. Their only relief was a slow moving breeze. Soap and Ghost were staking out one of a known terrorist cell’s many compounds. All was quiet for now. 
“Johnny?” Ghost didn’t move from his position, eyes dead on his scope. 
Johnny looked over. “Yeah, L.t.?”
“Once we’re done here, I’m taking you somewhere important. Keep your schedule clear.” Simon’s deep voice sounded out softly. 
“Oh… alright.” He didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Definitely, Simon.” 
He looked back towards the compound. Simon had glanced at that moment to see his little smile. His eyes crinkled. 
~~~~~
True to his word, after their stakeout mission was completed, Simon hauled Johnny into his car and began to drive them to who knows where. All Johnny knew was that the drive took several hours from their base in London to wherever they were in the countryside. 
They were nearly at their destination when Simon pulled them into a long driveway and pressed a button controller on his shade that opened the metal gates. Going through, the road was surrounded by open pastures on both sides. When Johnny looked around more closely he noticed a few horses, and, was that a cow? They were grazing on the lush grass. Was his L.t. taking him to a farm?
“Where are we, sir?” He had to ask. 
“You’ll see, Johnny.” Simon had slowed down so as to not spook any of the animals grazing. 
Two minutes later and the car pulled up to a nice two-story cottage home. It was made from stone and appeared to be like a fairy tale type of house. Johnny quite liked the look of it. He noticed that the lights were on. 
Simon opened the locked door, then took off his skull balaclava. It was clear that he was comfortable enough to forego it. “I called ahead, so dinner should be ready soon.”
Dinner? Who’s made them dinner? Johnny didn’t question him and just nodded. Simon stepped inside, none of the wooden boards squeaked when he walked in them unlike when Johnny stepped on them. His steps alerted the person in the kitchen. A delicious smell was coming out in soft waves. The person poked their head out to see who was there. They weren’t worried because they knew that only Simon had the extra key. 
“I’m home.” Johnny noticed a softness in his voice that he hadn’t heard before. Simon’s large frame was blocking his view of the person. A dog suddenly burst from the kitchen barking at Simon before realizing who he was. It sat down when he started to pet him, his butt wiggling with the fast beat of his tail. Cute. Then the dog, a German shepherd, turned to him and started sniffing him with caution. Johnny let him sniff his hand and after a bit he licked his hand and wagged his tail. Approved. 
“Welcome home, Simon!” The person’s voice was distinctly feminine. Johnny had moved closer to Simon and the kitchen, so when the woman fully came into view he saw her right away. 
She went in for a hug and that’s when Johnny noticed a small, yet significant distance between the two. She was pregnant and her baby belly was making it a little harder to hug her. But that didn’t stop Simon from embracing her as tightly as he could. When her hand came up to rest against Simon’s shoulder, Johnny noticed again the large diamond on her ring finger. 
“L.t.?” The two lovers separated to look at him. 
“Johnny, come meet my wife.” Simon gave him a knowing nod which Johnny instantly returned. 
He almost couldn’t believe it. His L.t. had brought him home to see his little family. Johnny almost choked up upon realizing the significance of Simon trusting him with this information. Right then and there, Johnny gave Simon a mental promise to help keep his family safe, no matter what.
Bonus: 
“Oh! The baby is kicking! Want to feel ‘em, Johnny?” Simon’s wife asked. 
“Oh, sure! If that’s alright with you?” She took his larger hand in answer and placed it near the top of her baby bump. A few kicks hit his hand. They were rather strong kicks too. Definitely a football star, or another SAS kid, in the making. 
“Woah!” Johnny exclaimed. Then, turning to his L.t. who was watching them interact, his mouth turned into a wide grin. “Does that make me their uncle, Simon?”
“Don’t push it, MacTavish.” His wife giggled. 
Masterlist
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vilsoo · 7 months
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𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑮𝑨𝑺𝑴.𝑪𝑶𝑴 ⌇GHOST, KÖNIG
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ghost x fem!reader x könig || WC: 3,852
𖤐 SYNOPSIS. the dark web was a place every sane person stayed away from. too many horror stories and dark content that barely a few dared to venture in. but you’d rather not be anywhere else than in the hands of two masked strangers…
𖤐 WARNINGS. dubcon, kidnapping, drugging, sadism, voyeurism, bondage (blindfolding, ropes, torture), sex toys, livestream sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, forced creampie, mind break, double penetration, mask kink, impact play.
HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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[HAUNTED HOUSE ANNOUNCER] You are now entering the Deathgasm live venue. This haunted house attraction depicts scenes of violence, intense loud audio, special effects, and content warnings posted. For a fun and safe experience, please follow our code of conduct: no touching live performers and decorations, no flash photography, and no eating. Do not block passageways, or this will result in expulsion. Smoking and drinking are permitted for our haunted houses only. We hope you enjoy.
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The last time you ever saw broad daylight was ripped apart before your eyes.
It was just a relaxing morning stroll. You were always, always aware of your surroundings, especially during the night. But you shouldn’t have underestimated what happens in the day. Things became unsettling when you noticed a white van lurking in your peripheral vision, feeling your skin crawl and your body tense up with paranoia when the doors opened.
At first, you thought you were overthinking about it. Stop being so fucking paranoid, you scolded to yourself. Maybe they’re just contractors or something. Nothing sketchy at all.
You just kept walking that day continuing to embrace the warmth of the sun, sometimes looking over your shoulders just to be sure. But that unsettling, turmoil gut-feeling just couldn’t go away. As if you really were being followed. As if that van parked all the way out here for you.
“Quickly.”
It wasn’t until in just half a heartbeat, a brawny, masked man clung his arm around you, rendering you motionless as he presses a cloth over your nose and your mouth. With all your strength you tried to fight back and escape his grasp but your struggle was to no avail. Your screams were muffled and your vision grew hazy, causing your eyes to flutter as your numb body was pulled backwards, backwards, and backwards... And that was when your world was swallowed away by darkness.
“Shh, shh… We got you now. We’ll be taking care of you now...”
“…Told you she’d be easy, Ghost. We’ll have her all to ourselves…”
On that sinister day, you were the one with the shiny price tag. A beautiful woman walking all alone near a remote area, suddenly kidnapped by two masked men in a white van who had special, ominous plans for you. You could hear their conversations reverberating in your head, trying to register what the hell even happened. With your body temporarily limp and weakened, you could still feel the sensation of their caresses all over you.
Usually kidnappers would be so aggressive handling their female victims. At least, in the movies you’ve seen. The men would rush and scamper out of impatience and impulse as they tie their victims up, desperate to get down to business like it was their last meal on Earth. And even though your brain was foggy, you could register that you were being downed by a drug and abducted. Yet, it all felt… oddly tantalizing.
There was no rush. No sign of impulse nor rough treatment from these mysterious masked men. Instead of this predator-prey dynamic, instead of fear and terror seizing every fiber of your being, the men handled your motionless body like having a cupped hand of water, that not a drop would enter gravity's pull. In the back of a van, you laid on a blanket as gloved hands roamed about your skin, your waist, your face, your thighs… The men cut off your clothes with scissors, ever so gently trying not to hurt you. With your hazy eyes drifting side to side, you caught glimpse of one of them holding rope and the other holding your arms above your head.
“Look at her. So fucking cute when she’s all spaced out like that…”
“She’s so obedient for us already. You’re gonna be a perfect little pornstar for us, aren’t ya’?”
…Pornstar?
Before you knew it, your heavy eyes started to sulk. You were slowing down while the world around blurred, completely losing your coherence as the masked men moved you around like a lifeless doll. You couldn’t stop sighing, babbling nonsense, and whimpering when their large hands just couldn’t keep off of you, hanging your wrists on some metal hook attached to the van’s ceiling so they could caress your body. Your numb legs were then spread open, revealing the soaked fabric of your panties that you heard one of them coo in your ears. You whined when one of them slid their hand down to toy with your slit, aching and so swollen, out of your own fear and arousal. It was futile to even try and close your legs from this violation, yet the heat pooling in between was saying otherwise…
“Fuck, she’s already so wet just by being tied up. Makes me wanna take her here right now.”
“…We have to go now, König. Just keep playing with her clit until she falls asleep…”
The anticipation from such a forbidden desire worsened the ache in your cunt. At this fleeting moment you didn’t know what exactly you wanted anymore; how to choose what was good or what was bad for you. Your foggy brain couldn’t even articulate anything except this writhing sensation, this urge to submit yourself and melt onto the man’s chest just to let him use you. Encircling his fingers on your throbbing clit that you were bashfully moaning and whining, knowing that they were getting off to a pathetic, brainless, helpless woman who’s good for nothing but a fuck…
It was too bad that before you could even build up your orgasm, you were already passed out…
“… And we’re live. Wake her up.”
You had no idea how long you’ve been out. At least your coherence was starting to gauge, but your body was still weakened and frail from the drug. You struggled to open your debilitated eyes, vision hazy and blurry as if you hit your head. And when you tried to move, your wrists were still bound above your head.
Your breathing grew rapid, eyes darting every corner as you were scanning the new environment. Tied in a darkened room with red lighting, followed by a camera on a tripod right in front of you. Your mind immediately thought of this setup as a sex dungeon, hence the chains on the walls and a bed neatly made behind you. Recalling what had happened earlier, you tried to look for the men in masks, creating noises by dangling the metal hook above you and whimpering to let them know you’re awake. But as far as you could tell, you couldn’t make out any other presence lingering in the room…
Your heart was a pounding loud drum in your chest. Panic scorches in your brain, but your touch-starved body betrays your inhibitions… You were completely naked, exposing yourself in front of the camera. In your mouth, a red ball gag pooling with drool that dripped down to your stomach and on the floor. Your legs were free from the rope, however, you were on your tippie toes— the rope holding your wrists were too high that it was a struggle to relax them or you’d injure yourself. Dangling on rope, gagging and drooling on a ball, naked in front of a camera that you assumed to be recording already… how much more lewd could this be?
A gloved hand emerging from the shadows makes you flinch as it caresses you from behind. Your skin tingled when you felt the man’s body heat transmit onto your back, hearing him breathe deeply. You were able to study him up close— an alluring, mysterious man wearing a balaclava with a skull design, recalling him being called “Ghost.” Another pair of gloved hands greet you by massaging your breasts, your body immediately succumbing to this white-hot wave of sensation, desperate to be handled like this that more heat pooled between your legs. You turn your head and meet his gaze; piercing, forest green eyes and a draped mask, the other man with the German accent known as “König.”
“You’re not gonna struggle and try to resist us, are you?” Ghost teased, his voice so intoxicating than any alcohol you’ve ever consumed. He had this husky, sultry British accent; something you’ve never expected coming from a stranger like him. It only turned you on more.
You shake your head at him meekly, replying with a faint moan when he suddenly grips your ass. Ghost immediately catches the doe-eyes you gave him, the right kind of heat and lust pooling in your eyes. This was all so, so wrong… to be abducted and chained in the dark, to be turned on by strangers in tactical gear who drugged you and had sinister plans for you… But yet, you couldn’t fight this brain-fazing sensation from the anticipation quivering inside, wondering what was going to happen to you as you were in the hands of these men. And your aching cunt couldn’t stop furtively pounding and throbbing, having to hold back a whimper from how needy and slutty you really were...
“Good girl,” Ghost praised as he held your face with one hand. “Tonight, everything we do to you is gonna be livestreamed. You’re not here just to please us— you’ll have to please our audience, too. You like being shown off, pretty girl?”
“Mhm.” You nodded like you were already made for this, allowing what your body was secretly ravenous for. A little enthusiasm, but also bashfulness— the epitome of submission. Perhaps deep down, you adored being showed off; basking in the limelight of being a free use in front of thousands of strangers…
König’s hand slithers down your back and onto your ass, yelping when he spanked it so abruptly that it left a throbbing sting. Your back involuntarily arched and when his fingers just fit right in between your thighs, chafing your swollen, wet cunt that it was hard holding back your pathetic whines and moans.
“Getting off to this already?” he coaxed, now increasing the speed of his fingers teasing your folds that you threw your head back on his shoulder. Immediately writhing on his fingers playing with your swollen clit, unable to respond properly when Ghost wrapped his hand around your throat.
“They wanna hear you scream,” Ghost muttered into your ears, slightly smirking under his mask. “You can’t be enjoying all this without a little bit of pain.”
As much as you wanted to resist, you couldn’t. The panic and anticipation spiraled into shameless arousal. Without warning, König eased two of his fingers knuckles deep inside your wet cunt so easily, thrusting insanely fast that your eyes fell half-lidded, convulsing around his fingers hitting that spot that made you squirm. Shamelessly spreading your legs as Ghost kept playing with your tits, squeezing both of your nipples so tight that your loud squeal reverberated off the walls of the room.
That mix of pleasure and pain; you’d be lying to yourself if you truly enjoyed it… It was torturous, it was too brutal to endure, but your skin was flashing hotter than ever, your clit throbbing erratically with a heartbeat of its own. König felt his cock stirring in his suit, getting off to your helpless state that he thrusted his fingers so hard, curling them to abuse your g-spot. Denying your own orgasm was painfully inevitable. The two men could see it pooling in your eyes like it was unobtainable, watching your body constantly squirming under their touches.
“You think she deserves to come?” taunted Ghost.
“We’ll make her come as many times as she can. Even if she can’t handle it.” You could feel König’s other hand slithering down to your inner thigh as if he was about to grab it, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “And we’re not gonna fucking stop no matter how many times you beg. You’re our little fucktoy now and you’re gonna be treated just like one.”
Lust speared through you from their words. The men were unpredictable in their own sinister ways; it caught you off guard from the way König abruptly lifted your left leg and held it in the air as Ghost takes a vibrator onto your clit. Fingers still fucking into your cunt and your sensitive clit getting overstimulated had you yanking the rope, your body writhing and squirming that they tell you to “shut the fuck up and take it,” and forced you in place. Electric sensations skyrocket through you before you could even register it all, your glossy eyes welling with tears and your face all ravished and wanton beyond comprehension.
Never have you been so turned on you couldn’t see straight. It was a fleeting second after you realize your orgasm had already washed over you, your hips stuttering like a riptide from this delirious torment. Knowing that there were thousands of strangers getting off to this, getting off to a helpless slut tied up and tortured by masked men that can’t do anything except enjoy it, you basked in it. Forced multiple orgasms, stinging pain, lewd noises, and loud screams… this was all related to the dark web you’ve been hearing recently.
After collecting yourself, a wave of clarity hit you so suddenly that things were starting to make sense. There were recent kidnappings of women who were found later on a livestream website called Deathgasm.com, where numerous videos of gangbangs with these women and masked men in tactical gear are recorded live. They take place in either the back of a van or in a dark room, which viewers assume as a sex dungeon.
You couldn’t hold back anymore. As sick and twisted this was, your body couldn’t help but succumb to this indescribable feeling of pleasure and torture. There were even times out of curiosity you’d search the site and realize how attractive the men in masks and tactical gear are. Toying and playing with a tied up woman who also secretly succumb to this, their quivering fear and terror surrendering into arousal and tantalization. Having no choice but to orgasm over and over even though it’s too much, looking into the men’s faces with lingering dark anonymity and their brawny, large bodies looming over them just to fulfil their filthy, dark plans. And you would not trade this for anything in the world.
Perhaps you adored being showed off. Basking in the limelight of being used like a fucktoy and watched by strangers online that are fucked up in the head, like an exhibitionist. Or maybe you’ve been brainwashed to even think this way— maybe you just have little, fucked up fantasies of your own... It didn’t even matter anymore; your thoughts became mush when Ghost and König suspended you up in the air this time, your wrists and ankles bound behind you with your legs also tied apart. The gag was finally off but a blindfold had covered your eyes, not being able to tell who’s who and what the men plan to do to you now.
You were already a mess; strings of saliva and drool hanging off your chin that dripped onto König’s cock, slowly easing it in your widened mouth. It was Ghost’s turn to play with your pussy and ass, moaning and yelping when he spanked your cheeks so harshly. Nothing could compare to this amount of excitement pounding in your pussy, practically whining on Konig’s fat cock in your mouth as Ghost kept teasing you.
To describe the comments in the live chat as obscene is an understatement— the men were greedy, ravenous, filthy. Shamelessly admitting their own raunchy, fucked up scenarios with you tied up like that. Degrading you like a worthless whore, admiring your body and pussy that’s good for fucking, or sending money to get Ghost and König to fulfill their requests:
[ $20 ] both of you fuck her pussy and ass at the same time. stretch out that tight asshole
[ $25 ] carve the word “slut” on her thigh i want that bitch bloody and screaming in pain
[ $22 ] make her squirt i wanna see that pussy juice all over the camera lens
And though you couldn’t read the comments or see the camera, you just indulged into this and presented yourself as a horny, free-use slut that’s made for fucking. You can feel Ghost’s cockhead brushing the folds of your cunt, coating it with your juices. König thrusted his cock straight inside your throat that it was too much for you to handle, gagging and moaning pathetically as Ghost kept teasing you it felt like utter torture. But that blissful feeling blossoming in your stomach was saying otherwise…
You were so desperate for more friction; Ghost took sick pleasure in seeing you like this, writhing and bucking your hips for him to slide inside your cunt already. When he finally eased his cock so deep, you were given no warning as he pounded so hard and rough into you. The sensation of your cunt getting stretched out from his size, grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth on his cock... You were a wrecked mess already; your face streaked with tears, your chin dripping with drool, and your skin all slick and sweaty. The thought of being reduced to a free use fuck-slut that thrives off from only cock and orgasms as you were suspended mid-air… you could no longer think for yourself anymore.
“Look at you. Getting all dumb and brainless over our cocks,” Ghost cooed, harshly spanking your ass. “You like being our little pornstar? Knowing that a bunch of strangers online jerk off to you being used like this?”
Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as the men kept pounding and thrusting, hearing König pant heavily and Ghost grunt when you kept squeezing ever so tightly around him. In just a minute, another orgasm. But that didn’t stop Ghost mercilessly pounding into you like an animal gone wild and König fucking your throat so relentlessly. Your screams and moans form into gags urging out, drips of precum and drool seeping on your chin that König smeared all over your glossy face. The more they sensed that you were taking pleasure from all this, the more brutal they were with you.
It felt like you were in the air for hours as the men switched around and took turns. Your cunt was becoming overly slick with the copious amounts of cum that was being pumped into it, some left on your ass and some dripping onto the floor. Even when they weren’t inside you, the continual pounding and the oozing cum throbbed in your walls. You still couldn’t see anything and you were still bound. It wasn’t until your eyes started feeling heavy again and your body fell numb; the men didn’t like that.
“We didn’t say you could fucking sleep,” König chided as he harshly grabbed your face and slipped off the blindfold.
“That drug is still hitting you, huh?” teased Ghost as he messing around with the ropes that held you in the air. “For that, we’ll make her do the work this time. Untie her and get her on top of me on the bed so she’ll ride me. Leave her arms tied only.”
You couldn’t protest, for your words started to slur and your mouth was only used for moaning pathetically. Once König brought you down from the air, he shoved you onto the bed, holding your legs in the air as Ghost laid underneath you. There was another camera facing the bed that you noticed, the light burning into your retinas as you stare into it. Although you were half awake, a weak smile stretches on your lips, wanting to the viewers know how prideful you were of this and how good Ghost and König make you feel.
When Ghost slowly settled inside your ass, you’ve felt a stirring sensation in your stomach. Never have you thought about losing your anal virginity so soon, but it had you throwing your head back and whining. He had the ball gag from before in his hands and wrapped it back around your opened mouth, telling you to keep staring into the camera and ride him like the dirty, messy slut that you are. With your feet on the bed and your legs spread, you slowly settle down on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and your body contorting from how intense it all felt.
You knew that you didn’t wanna go painfully slow; you wanted Ghost to feel good as well. To the point where he’d finally hold your hips in the air and fuck his cock into your ass and König can finally slide himself in your pussy, overstimulating you so greatly. It was hard to keep balance with your hands bound behind your back and your staggering strength. But you kept telling yourself that this was all that you wanted, grinding your hips and bouncing your ass up and down, emitting juddering grunts from Ghost.
“Keep your legs spread open for me,” König ordered. “Show to the camera how good you take two cocks inside of you.”
Before you knew it, you were sandwiched between the two masked men, filling your holes and stuffing you harshly. Sitting on Ghost’s cock as your legs were wide open, letting them both pound into you… You lost the feeling of stability in your entire body, your inhibition being taken over by the desperate sensation of cock. It broke your mind, but that was what you craved for. It was pure euphoria, rapturing you in a burning enticement that you were bound in. Nearly knocked out of air, your vision becomes hazy as Ghost and König fucks you through your third orgasm, past the point where you're crying two octaves higher than you're used to.
such a hot fucking slut taking both dicks
i wish i could fuck her cunt and put that dumb bitch in her place
how many times did she come already 😂
You enjoyed it. You enjoyed it all. The mind-wrecking, the overstimulation, the humiliation, the pain, the thought of being watched and masturbated to by perverts… It felt as if your life had been reformed. You were now a slutty whore that was good for nothing but a fuck. A depository for cum, just holes for fucking and a toy to torture. Your cunt was now battered and bruised, ass stinging and throbbing from being slapped multiple times, and both of your holes stretched and aching from how deep and rough they fucked you out. All those sensitive, velvet tissues that should never see the light of day, for they were property of Ghost and König only. Your poor cunt couldn’t stop flexing over nothing, yearning for that feeling of fullness again.
The next few hours after you were done being used, you were tied up in a strappado position with a vibrating dildo tied to your cunt. Left alone in the dark with the camera still on and recording, still blindfolded and gagged. Forced orgasms over and over, stranded like this throughout the rest of your days and nights until they felt like using you again. From what Ghost told you, the viewers seemed to favor you. They wanted to see more of you on Deathgasm, never to return to your old life and remain a free-use.
“Next time, I’ll make it hurt real good for you,” he forewarned before. “They can watch and cum as many times as they please, but you… You only cum for me now.”
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ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. art by duskidraws ♥︎
𖤐 TAGS. @kyumimii @aft0nsimp @crysugu @atinystaypixie @rinshoe @cran-berry-vodka @apwing @daddyzzlittlewhore @kimekioo @mqfuyuu @strawberrymilk4k @strvwberrymilk @maidenssymphony @shycoffeetaco @zippertwat @killzenin @titantears @migueloharacumslut @hayati17 @palefuckinghost @maddietries @nanananamiiii @bookmark-anon @blackhoodlea @bru1sedclavicle @dollicries @hehehehesthings @oneofthesevensins
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blingblong55 · 4 days
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Families?-141
Price yelled at the team and now they are upset
Gaz: you hate us!
Soap: and we loved you like a older brother
Ghost: *shakes his head*
Price: what? no! you guys are like my second family
R/N: Awww...like the one my dad has
Gaz: oh...thats not-
Ghost:...don't. tell. them.
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snipersfucker · 8 months
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simon riley??? more like simon railme
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selfmessages · 1 year
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John Price x Male reader nsfw (mdni) | no use of pronouns reader is referred to as ‘you’ 
Warnings: rough sex
John Price had always been a rough lover, and you loved every second of it. His hands gripped your hips tightly, bruising the skin as he slammed into you, hitting all the right spots with every thrust. You moaned loudly, arching your back and digging your nails into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with the pace he had set.
"God, you're so tight," Price growled, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to pound into you. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough like this?"
You could only manage to nod, too overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body to form coherent words. Price took that as his cue to speed up even more, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he fucked you hard and fast.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, feeling his hands wander down to your thighs as he lifted your legs up, positioning them over his broad shoulders.
The new angle sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you cried out as Price hit your prostate dead on, sending you over the edge. He followed soon after, his own orgasm wracking his body as he spilled inside of you.
You both collapsed onto the bed, panting and sweating as you came down from your highs. Price pulled you close, kissing your forehead softly as he whispered, "I love you."
You smiled, feeling warm and content in his embrace. "I love you too," you whispered back.
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local-crying-boy · 2 months
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ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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How they are like in a relationship
Characters included: Captain John Price, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra
A/N: got a little lazy towards the end, I apologise. I was running out of ideas for Alejandro and Rudy :(
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Captain John Price
More husband vibe than boyfriend vibe
Since he's older, he's much more respectful and kinder than the other men.
Of course the others are also hella respectful, but there's something to Price that just gives off the vibe that he'd immediately put your needs in front of his without a second thought.
He's a Captain, as we all know, so he's often busy and being with him means you sign up for a boyfriend/husband that has a busy lifestyle and not much free time
He'd make up for the time he couldn't spend with you, obviously. Never doubt this man
Sometimes he'd shower you in gifts, anything you want. Jewellery? You got it. Expensive clothing? He's rushing to find it. Flowers? Name which ones, he'd get you every single one that he can get his hands on
Sometimes he'd take out someplace nice, anywhere you want, anytime you want. Fancy restaurant? Pizza? Sushi? If you can name it, he can find a place.
Sometimes he'd simply cover you in kisses, hugging you and taking you someplace where you can just embrace each other for however long you are able to.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick
Total sweetheart, let’s be honest
He's super sweet and gentle with his touches and his kisses
He always takes time with showing affection with you, arms around you tightly as he hides in face in your neck while you hug
And cuddling with him in bed means, without saying, that you two are just going to be tangled together in a loving embrace unless it is too hot for the both of you.
Comes home to you and immediately wraps his arms around you, whispering how much he missed you while he was away
Sit down meal with this one.
Cuddles and kisses and affection and everything!
He missed you so much, he just wants some quality time with his partner after being away for so long
We all know that our favourites are going to away for long periods of time, and we all know that our boy Gaz is going to feel really guilty if he's got a partner waiting up at home
Well, not all the time, since the Task Force 141 is always dealing with life or death situations. He's not ALWAYS going to be worrying about you when he's stuck in heavy gunfire
But he would always try and call you when he is free, that is a given
Sometimes they'd be quick calls, just a simple checking in on you so he knew that you were safe and happy while he was away.
However, sometimes he'd have enough time to have a call with you that would last a couple hours
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish
Affectionate mf
You can see it from a damn mile away
Before leaving for his deployment, he's always peppering your face with kisses and hugging you tightly with his head resting on top of yours. He would stay like that for hours if duty didn't call.
Clingy asf when he comes home.
Not apposed to some sex too. I mean, the man has been away from you for far too long and he misses his love
He's the type to kiss all over your face when you get home. BIG bear hug as he picks you up and spins you around before settling on the sofa for a cuddle (you anything else your up to).
Although he's busy, he'd always find a way to message you throughout the day. Whenever he can safely get his phone out, anyway.
It's during the late evening when he tends to call you while he is away.
Especially after a tough day, all he wants to do is hear you voice, listen to you rant on about your day.
Even when you are miles away from each other, even when he can't even see your face, you are always able to calm him down.
Granted there are other ways to calm him down.
He's not above a little special time while calling you (ifykyk)
And if you're on different time zones, or you can't call. Then expect a message from him for you to send him a picture.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
Unlike the others, our favourite Lieutenant is a little bit less touchy, especially if you two are in the early stages of your relationship.
Once he starts to warm up and he realises that he loves you and that it's going to be you and him taking care of one another, than that is when he gets more affectionate, more open with his feelings.
He tends to be more reserved in public, you'd be lucky if you get a proper hug from him while in the park or in a shop. The best you'd get is hand holding while out and about.
However, at home, he's much less reserved.
Arms around your waist with his chin resting on your shoulder or the top of your head (depending on your height)
This man is less likely to talk about his feelings, so be ready for that.
If he comes home from deployment clearly distressed or unhappy, give him time to talk to you about it. He wouldn't want the love of his life exposed to the horrors of war.
Though, he would come and give you a hug if you two have been together for a considerable amount of time.
When he's like this, best to just let him be. Give him the hugs he wants people!
Like the others, he will try his best to talk to you while he's deployed.
Though, expect his messages to be short 'are you okay?' texts rather than longer conversations like the others may have
Of course, however, in the later hours, he will try and have a decent conversation with you instead of quick check up messages that can barely be considered a conversation.
He'll text you for a few hours, two maybe three if he can. He'll try and hear all about your day, but he may not remember it all. He works hard after all, and the only time you two can talk is when he is exhausted and ready to sleep.
Alejandro Vargas
Alejandro <3
He's a big softie, lets be honest.
Kisses on the back of your hand and on your cheek, but long kisses planted gently on your lips when he really wants to show you how much he loves you
He'll definitely call you names in Spanish and WILL NOT tell you what they mean. This mf will only laugh it off and kiss the top of your head
For all you know, he could be calling you insults and you wouldn't know
If you end up learning Spanish and he returns from deployment to you speaking decent Spanish to you, he's super happy (kind of bummed that he can't tease you without you knowing now)
This guy will accidently almost break your bones with how hard he hugs you before leaving after being called for deployment
You have to tell him that you're going to break with a breathy laugh
He'd let go and apologise, but will cup your face and give you a small (clique) speech about how he much he loves you and how much he will miss you
Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra
Just like Alejandro, big ol' softie when it comes to his girlfriend/boyfriend
He's more partial to forehead kisses and innocent kisses on your neck (especially when the two of you are hugging/cuddling)
And, of course just like Alejandro, he will call you pet names in Spanish.
Unlike Alejandro, he'll be happy to tell you what they mean, because it means that you are curious to learn Spanish, even if it is a little bit.
Before he leaves for deployment, big old kiss on the lips and a hug with his arms wrapped around your ribs
He'd murmur soft 'I love you's and 'I'll miss you's
Masterlist
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negativecharm · 6 months
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Masterlist ,
+ Older boyfriend!Ghost +sfw Hcs
- Older Boyfriend!Ghost .
- Older Boyfriend!Ghost(pt.2).
- Older Boyfriend! x reader & how he adores you.
×
+ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader +sfw Hcs
- Sugar Daddy!Ghost x reader.
- Sleepy Simon Riley x reader.
- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader.
- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader (pt.2).
- Simon with a small reader.
- Husband Simon Riley x f!reader ♥
×
+ >..Drabbles..<
× Task force 141 Headcanons ×
- 141 Task Force Headcanons. [SFW]
.
× NSFW & Dark Themes under ×
NSFW hcs
- Mean Simon Riley x reader hc.
- Ghost treating you like his personal doll~
- War God!Ghost x Princess!reader.
- Toxic Over Protective Boyfriend Simon!
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habit-poxly · 1 year
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wild time
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!reader
zombie apocalypse au!
Pt. 1 << | Pt. 2
description: you’ve been surviving the apocalypse on your own for a very long time. after stumbling across a fire fight you met two British SAS soldiers who offer you assistance and company. 
warnings: cannon typical violence, mentions of blood, restricted food
word count: 2.4K
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When the British military was sent into Canada it was portrayed as the ‘end’ of the outbreak. Subsequently, the British Military found that it had all of the same issues in containing the virus as the government of Canada had. By the point help had arrived there was only a handful of strongholds across the continent that weren't overrun with the infection. It was highly infectious, highly effective and 100% fatal. Everything happened too quickly for anyone to really learn about what the infection was- what it did. All that was told to the public originally was that it was easily transmissible, made you highly aggressive and delirious, and that everyone needed to stay inside. No more updates were made after the first national announcement- there was hardly anyone left to listen. 
The United Kingdom collapsed shortly after the outbreak reached its shores aswell- leaving hundreds of their very much alive and terrified soldier stranded on foreign soil to die. The competent soldiers abandoned their fights in the cities as soon as they arrived- seeing how horrific the situation had become. Whatever was left of their army died quickly when the first winter came a few weeks later. 16 days was how long it took for the government of Canada to completely collapse under the outbreak. The USA lasted 9 days. 
It didn't much matter now, you thought. The beginning of the outbreak was long over, happening so long ago now that you find it hard to keep track of the year. Winters seem to come and go rapidly, and summers are painfully short-lived.  
Your heavy boots compact the fresh snow beneath them with a muffed crunch at each step. The buildings ahead were broken and decrepit, abandoned cars and trash stayed hidden under a thick white sheet. This must have some sleepy charming town at some point, you imagine. Readjusting your shotgun you march forward, scanning the insides of the shops beside you. Most of them were empty, snow pouring in from broken windows—the amount of completely vacant shops beginning to stir disappointment in the pit of your stomach. 
For months you had been aimlessly wandering. State to state, province to province, never any care for where in particular you ended up. There was never any set goal in mind other than 'survive'. Attempting to survive with a group proved extremely difficult early on- with far too much risk for so little personal return. So, you've been travelling alone for a very long time.
Empty stores meant empty shelves, an unfortunate reality you have to cope with often. Empty shelves meant an empty stomach. 
Rounding the street corner the landscape looks much the same, a row of shops on either side of the road. These buildings seemed to be in slightly better condition, their windows were mostly intact if not incredibly dirty. Your gloved hand whipped over the glass attempting to get a better look inside. The store looks to have been locked up before whoever was here last left, the inside of the shop looking as if they had just closed. Clothes racks sat full and tidy just beyond the window. It looked to be some high-end outdoor wear store. The sight of new, clean, decently warm-looking clothes brought a fuzzy feeling to your body that you swear you haven't felt before. 
You stand observing the front of the shop for a moment, the letters on the sign above the door obscured with snow. Smashing the glass panel on the door and slipping in was simple. The glass shattering makes a frighteningly loud sound that echoed throughout the streets, bouncing off the blank walls of the long-vacant buildings. Normally such a loud sound would cause fear of attracting infected, but the rigid cold made it virtually impossible for them to move outside. 
You turn on your flashlight and begin clearing the room thoroughly, the sound of your boots stepping on glass surely being enough to draw any creatures out toward you. Yet, none come as expected- the dark shop sitting in the same silence as when you entered. 
Peeling your backpack off your back, you lay it against the wall and begin wandering the aisles. You pluck some basic new gear from the shelves- some new gloves, a compass, a whistle with '6 incredible different functions!' as the packaging states. With a silent giggle, you continue your shopping.
Thick, expensive sweaters and jackets lined the walls in mass. 'It's about time for a new coat and sweater' you thought, warmth coming to your face in excitement. Grabbing a few options you make your way to the dressing room and begin trying on different sweaters to go under your coat. The one you had was worn and old, having several mended and non-mended holes- an ugly brown you had taken off a corpse when your things had been stolen (certainly not your proudest fashion choice). The pullover's you had picked though were pretty colours- your favourites. Having pretty things was something you regretted taking for granted before, them rarely being an option when functionality has to come first. It was the little things you did that helped you feel like your own person- putting stickers you find on your water bottle, painting your nails, having pins on your backpack. Not just a wanderer or a stranger, a target or enemy, you were a human being first. The coat was far simpler to find, going with a plain black one. You hadn't looked at yourself in a full body mirror in months, the sight alone being enough to help your disappointment in the days findings. You noted now tired you looked, how your face has seemingly gotten plumper over the winter months somehow- although finding food over summer was something you had an extremely hard time with. 
Looking for supplies in stores never fails to feel like stealing for you- even now, you feel the need to tell yourself that nobody owns this stuff anymore. No one who cares, anyways. Still though, ripping the tags off your clothes and hopping the till to take off the security tags made you feel guilty. 
You settle into the back corner of the shop, the air inside starting to whirl with the freezing air from outside. Opening your backpack you retrieve your map- it having grown increasingly detailed as time dragged on. The margins are filled with notes, the landscapes dotted in circles, marked trails and small paragraphs describing important details about certain areas. You spread it out across the floor and mark over the town you're in, writing a small note beside it. 
'Waste of time!!'
It would be a lie to say that your notes were always productive. Unfortunately, nowadays decent towns with good supplies are becoming harder and harder to find- people too. It grows frustrating, the endless nights without supper followed by 12 hours of walking for nothing. 
Before the outbreak you had already been familiar with outdoor survival, having several long-haul solo backpacking trips under your belt. Sometimes your forced solitude felt like that- _like a backpacking trip. _It helped to pretend that this was temporary, that you could go home one day and everything would be back to the way it was. You had lost everything, just like everyone else had. When the outbreak happened you and your family suffered like civilians, and they died like civilians too. 
There was no good reason in your mind why you were alive and everyone else wasn't, yet it did nothing productive to dwell on it. 
The disappointment you had been holding at bay finally settles into your bones. Another night without dinner, another 12-hour walk tomorrow. Unsurprisingly towns in such a large and sparsely populated nation were very far apart- almost as if giving you a personal 'fuck you'.
The loud crack of a gunshot rings through the streets of the town followed by a brief moment of silence before whoever shot unloads. The barrage only lasts a couple of seconds before stopping completely. The sound of the shots is replaced with the loud thudding of your heart in your ears. Checking yourself and the interior of the shop over you see no evidence of being shot at- the sounds coming from the street you were just on. 
Not only had you been in this town for a couple of days but you hadn't seen a single sign of another living person the entire time. That wasn't uncommon for you to stumble into empty towns- but seeing people was. 
Grabbing your things you crawl back out of the shop in a hurry- stepping into the open, white street. The whistle of gunshots starts again, this time accompanied by yelling. Two voices screamed to each other, barely discernible over the cracking of the gun. 
You inch closer to the corner of the building and peek out over the road. At the end of it was a truck, clearly positioned as cover for whatever firefight you had stumbled into. You imagine that's where whoever is the aggressor is based on how it's blocking the exit, your eyes still scanning over your surroundings for the victims. 
The outline of a head peeks out from behind the truck, only to be met immediately with a shot being fired. The person ducks and the bullet barely misses, it coming from an alleyway on the opposite side of the street a few stores away. Whoever was shooting back had an incredible aim, nearly perfect. 
"Fuck! I'm out-" One voice yells from the alley, some heavy accent tainting his words. 
"This guy is fucking nuts!" The man finishes gruffly. Scottish, you decide.
Whoever the man was talking to doesn't respond, leaving the road in eerie silence. You take the moment to observe the truck more closely. It looked horrific, with dirt and blood caking the entire black body. A specific symbol painted on the windows of the truck caught your eye. Some S dog whistle. You had run-ins with 'stalkers' many times as they were called. They're a group of loosely organized psychopaths dedicated to causing as much chaos as possible. This meant committing every horrific, violent crime you could imagine on whoever they came across. For you, it had meant getting all of your stuff stolen in the middle of last winter and left to die in a grave they forced you to dig- for those less fortunate it meant a death full of torment and pure suffering. 
For a moment you consider just leaving these people to fend for themselves, but they were out of ammo and obviously losing. Stalkers were often former combat vets or Wall Street dudes who missed killing women, not guys you wanted to throw yourself into a fight with. If it weren't for the possibility of them giving you food for helping them you might have ran, but the hunger in your gut made the prospect of dying more enjoyable. 
The man in the alley peeks his head out scanning the truck, focus tethered away from me. He had dark hair, seemingly shaved into a mohawk at one point but it has since grown out unevenly. His hood was draw, thick white fur lining his face. As he begins to turn back into the alley his eyes catch mine as he glances back down the street. His gaze was cold, his grizzled features now apparent- scars litter his forehead and cheeks. There was no question the man was military from his gear. For a moment you stare at him blankly, taking in the presence of another person after so long. He shuffles in his position, his eyes now glancing across the road to where another man presumably was hiding. It quickly dawned on you that he had nowhere to go. The alleyway he was situated in was nothing more than a small dip in the architecture meant for the bins. He couldn't move without getting shot at, now being cornered from each side. You imagine they were both stuck like that.
You give the man a quick thumbs up, trying your best to assure him that you were going to help. He didn't seem to react at all, his face remaining stiff with the same stern expression. Ducking back in front of the shop you glance around, your gaze falling on a tipped-over metal trashcan. 
'It'll be terrible but let's hope for the best.' you mumble to yourself, trying to instill some confidence in one of the only things you could think to do. 
Settling against the wall you kick the bin out into the street, making a loud clank before rolling along the snow. As expected the stalker raised from behind the truck and shot at the sound of the trashcan. You take aim and fire, the man was clearly completely unaware of your position. You manage to catch him through the nose, being able to hit him dead center in the middle of his face from where you were sitting. The sound of the stalker's body crashing to the ground and sinking into the snow led way to a deathly quiet. 
"Are you sick?" You yell out, now slinking back against your cover. The crush of snow under boots was the only response for quite some time. 
"No." A gruff voice answers back. One different than before. 
Slowly you peek your head back around the corner, looking at the two large men now standing together only a few feet away. The one with dark hair stood on the right, being about 6'2 and in military-issue winter clothes. The other one stood taller at 6'4, a white skull mask sitting over a black balaclava. Everything about the taller man screamed danger, his stance, the tight grip on his weapon, the way his eyes burrowed into your skin. Union Jacks sit proudly on both of their arms, you felt a tinge of shame over how surprised you were to see two British soldiers alive still. You stand, feeling painfully tiny sitting and staring up at them. 
"Are you two hurt?" You ask, concern lacing your voice in an amount you hadn't meant for it to. The dark-haired man nods and lets out a soft smile, seemingly getting antsy standing in the middle of the street. Getting the sense they wanted to continue talking but move, you stepped aside for the man to walk past you. 
"I'm not broken- you good L.T.?." He responded, his attention turning to the man in the mask beside him. The masked man nods before turning his gaze back to you. Burning into you.
"Soap." The man holds out his hand for you to shake, loosely you take it- noting how his grip was firm and formal. You respond with your name, him humming in response. "This is Ghost."
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Sweet confections
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Oneshot Summary; Price brought the pastries to 141 as you asked him to, who could’ve thought sweet confections would spur the thoughts of sweet confessions?
Pairing: John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)
Rating: Mature
CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 
Word; 4k
Warnings; relationship-angst, fluff, implied age-gap
Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​
A/N: This was originally 2k🙃 Buuuut, I got carried away with delving into Price after seeing a post theorising about his previous dating life and just couldn’t help myself but write a snippet of the morning after their liquor-tasting date when sunshine!reader asked him to bring pastries to the 141 squad from Price's perspective.
SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST
On your first date, you'd brought him to 'the little coffee shop on the corner' you so endearingly called it. It wasn't as much a coffee shop as a bakery, Price remarked then. He even mentioned it the second time you'd come here to buy some bread together for dinner at your place. The third time, he'd shaken his head as he drove and spoke with you over the car's built-in phone, 'I've been working in the little coffee shop on the corner, I can wait for you here and we can go together to mine'.
Most of the space belonged to the bakery, stone ovens and counters to assemble the pastries. The rest was a quaint sitting area, with soft couch-looking seats compared to wooden-legged chairs and tables. Indeed, it was charming, gentle in a sense, concerning the neutral colour schema and warm bakery air.
Now Price stood in the same space smelling like newly baked bread and confectionery. It was early, before seven. Hence, the ovens were on full blast, loaded with loaves of bread and danishes. On the baking counter, cold sweets awaited completion, his presence suspending the process.
"Is that all?" Price's eyes focus on the cashier. According to you, she's the owner. She opened the place a few years ago to keep working with her passion after the official year of retirement, at her own pace and with her own ideas to fulfil a childhood dream.
His eyes fall on the things before her.
The usual for him and the rest of 141 on days likes these, coffees to everyone's taste and something to chew on. None favouring breakfast served on base since Price had brought something from his local place. He could scoff that a single prompted decision turned to habit on days like these when they would gather for meetings ahead of missions.
Usually, he would say yes. But this time, Price's eyes flickered to the right. 'Bring them something sweet in my name', your voice echoed from just 30 minutes earlier.
"I'll take some of those", he nods towards the colourful pastries behind the viewing glass.
"Any particular?" The woman asked. His eyes glide over the confections, some seemingly with a base of berries or other fruits, some with chocolate.
Price isn't too fond of sweets. Consequently, neither invested in what's good or not. Thankfully, he recalls which ones you'd pointed out as your favourites. 'Always taste the new ones when they come', you said when you'd visited the place together. Even if that hadn't been the case, Price would've trusted your tastebuds over his.
"Hm, I'll take two of each", he pointed to three different sweets, not attempting to pronounce their name even though in English. What he knew, or rather remembered, was your description of them. The pink one had a base of pomegranate with some curd, sweet but refreshing. The orange one contained peaches and syrupy cream, honeyed but with a delicate fruitiness. The tan one was some brownie fusion, if you ever want to taste diabetes. He'd chuckled when you explained the taste differences.
"Buying them for your girl?" Price's eyes jumps to the woman, who barely spared him more than an amused look between picking the pastries he'd directed her towards and packing them into small cardboard boxes.
"What?"
"Did your girl make you sleep on the couch after some argument? That's why you're trying to win her over with this?" She nodded to the first box of sweets she placed amongst his order.
You, she was talking about you. Price dipped his head, shaking it with a slight chuckle.
He wasn't startled, per se, that the women recognised him. He'd been here a handful of times in the last few weeks.
If it would've happened in the regular place he usually stops by on the way from his home, he wouldn't have even reacted. It was local, small, an everyone-knew-everyone case sooner rather than later. Although quaint for a city with its cosy inside, this place was still strategically placed on a corner between the juncture of two streets. And that's why Price isn't surprised the woman recognised him but tied him to you in the way she had.
"No, ordered me to bring some to my mates". He knew the woman had scanned him today, taken in his hard-to-misplace attire. Where there earlier only been a question mark, he'd now been placed in the box reading soldier within seconds of turning to face him from where she stood further inside the bakery after having called 'one minute' over her shoulder.
"Smart women, know you boys probably deserve it". She commented in passing, bending down to pack up the second sweet. Price hummed in return. "Hopefully, they'll like them, though I don't second her taste", the woman chuckled more to herself even though Price listened.
From how the woman dearly greeted you by name each time and a short conversation if it wasn't too hectic, he'd quickly gathered you were a regular here, your knowledge for someone who tasted but didn't bake the confectionaries giving it away as well.
"That'll be all?" She repeated the question from earlier when finally boxing up the last pastry. The three boxes were now effectively tied together and pushed together with the rest of his order.
"It'll be all", Price returned, reflecting the woman's smile as he reached to pay.
"Tell her I said hi and that I've got something new on the way for her to look forward to". He raised his elbow in an attempted wave, nodding a goodbye as he exited the bakery.
Not until Price stood at the curbside, a tray of coffees, one letter scribbled in neat handwriting on each cartoon cup, and two rather than one takeaway boxes of something to chew on did he realise he hadn't corrected the women once.
Your girl.
Price looked back inside through the windows lining the wall of the bakery. He couldn't see the women, probably already set off to complete the morning routine he'd interrupted.
Did she take it for granted that you bringing him here meant he was something more than just a date, someone you casually met? Because this wasn't neutral ground but a special place to you?
He faced his car, looking at his reflection.
His girl.
Price huffed, shaking his head and opened his car, placing what he'd bought in the passenger seat. He could only speculate why the woman had assumed you were a couple. But he knew why he hadn't corrected her, why he barely even had cringed at the notion of someone calling you his.
...
When arriving at the base, Price wasted no more time than to gather the mission files he'd had delivered to his office before heading to the scheduled meeting room.
When he pushes the handle down with his elbow, the door to the meeting room swinging open, he finds the rest of 141 inside. With his added appearance, whatever conversation they had halted.
"Morning, Captain", Gaz greets him, to which he nods his silent hello, clearing his hands by placing the things from the bakery on the table they sat around.
"Help yourselves to your usual", Price gestured to the things he'd brought. "And a mission file", he continued as he put down the folders he'd kept beneath his arm when not juggling the other things around.
His men reached forth, each taking the coffee cup with their initials along a sandwich wrapped in plastic foil. At first, their eyes were only swiftly shifted to the added boxes with intrigue until Soap dared to unwrap them, catching a look at what was inside.
"The place from yours gotten sweets now as well, Price?" The Scot looked over with a cocked brown, opening the rest of the boxes without taking more than a swift look down. Of course, Soap would be the one to inspect the boxes standing out from the team's usual orders.
"No, stopped at one in the city". Price shrugged, reaching for his cup of coffee but waiting with his sandwich. He would eat it, knowing you would give him a disapproving look if he didn't, though only later, when the coffee kicked in and made him hungry. The first visit back at base after a leave always does wonders of curbing his appetite.
As the black bitterness of coffee bit his tastebuds, he eyes Gaz as he lean forward, inspecting the boxes Soap opened and picked a pink pastry from. As his sergeant's eyes fell to the contents of the packages, he found the variety the Scot inspected seconds earlier.
"Why the hell the detour?" Gaze's eyes met Price, who took another drink of his coffee before he answered.
"No detour. I was in the city already".
Soap, who'd tasted the sweet he'd picked out and whose eyes rolled, accompanied by a content hum, leaned back in his chair as his attention travelled to Price. "What-", he began, eyes widening a wee bit as they locked with Price's. He doesn't know what the Scot saw, but whatever it was, it stopped his sentence abruptly with a rise of brows, a straightening of his back and a curl of his mouth's edge. "It's the lass, ain't it?"
Price didn't know why he stalled, why the takeaway cup halted in mid-air, why he didn't just say yes. 
It wasn't that his men didn't know. It was impossible for them not to. They'd been there the night he met you at the bar. They, or Gaz and Soap, having encouraged him to talk to you when he'd hesitated because why would you be interested in him. Ghost hadn't said anything on the matter, but Price bet he found entertainment in how the Seargents' jabbed at their Captain at something so trivial. And much like pushing his first step, their reaction to seeing the two of you leave together followed the same characteristics.
So no, it would be hard for them not to know about you. And there went one of the reasons Price would hesitate to answer.
"S'pose it can't be anyone else", Price relented. The biggest reason he wouldn't indulge the rest of the fact a dispensed reasoning of keeping you hidden meant safety.
It made Gaz whistle, leaning back with one of the orangey sweets in his hand. Soap drummed his hands against his thighs after inhaling the rest of his small pastry. Ghost shifted in his seat, head cocking, eyes sweeping to inspect the confections the other two men had indulged in fleetingly before his attention returned to Price.
"How's it goin' then? Asked the lass out since last we saw the two of ya disappear in the sunset?" Soap asked, his question prodding for two answers rather than one. But rather than levelling the Scot with a look, something that silently would confirm his suspicions of what happened the night Price drove you home, he leaned back in his chair with a tip of his head.
"We've talked some, met a few times as well". Price took a sip of his coffee as if it would do anything else than exacerbate his nerves upon you being the subject of conversation and the memory you'd more than just talked after some of your dates. "Got those from one of the places we went, some of her favourites".
"Old romantic, you are, Cap". Gaz's comment made Price clear his throat. It was followed by a 'yeah, yeah' muttered under his breath almost bashfully.
"Well, I'd say the lass is rubbin' of good on ya", Soap steered the conversation in his ever-present direction of jest on topics like this. "Ain't all time our dear Captain spoils us with such sudden acts of kindness", the Scot reached forth, picking one of the chocolaty treats this time with a smug look and a glint in his eyes towards Price.
He can't help but roll his eyes at the jab. "It's her spoilin' you, not me. Ordered me to buy some for you lot as a greeting".
That made Soap's signature grin form. "The lass orderin' you around already, Price?"
"The real question is why he's accepting it. He doesn't like us bossing him around and barely any higher-ups as well", Gaz stated, lightly elbowing the Scot at his side with a chuckle, the latter joining in agreement.
"Did the request come this morning?" Ghost pulls his attention away from his snickering Seargents.
With his eyes settled on the man who'd been quiet until this moment, Price knew his Lieutenant didn't ask the question because he needed the answer, only the confirmation. If anything was Ghost's forte, it was gathering the scattered pieces of information dropped throughout the chat, what’s between the lines, enough to build a picture of what went on behind the scenes.
Price clocked that for the veteran, who'd nursed his coffee with sparing sips and lifts of his mask, there'd been enough details throughout the conversation for him to flesh out the parts left untold. The knowing look reflected in Ghost's dark eyes exposing it as well.
"We went out yesterday, stayed the night", Price brushed off. Knowing Ghost, he'd say there's a smile hidden beneath the mask, equally as smug as those visible and directed at him from the other two men.
"Starting to think you don't want to indulge us, Cap", Gaz pointed out. "It seems to be going very well between you two".
"Aye, Price, when will we meet ya lass again?" At Soap's question, the morning flashed before Price's eyes.
He'd woken up before you. No need for an alarm that Price was scared would wake you up in the process and he would hurry to shut off. The military had since long engrained the early hours in the back of his mind.
He'd woken with a blink of his eyes rather than a slow descent from slumber, immediately noting that during the night, the two of you had shifted to something more comfortable for sleeping than the previous cuddling. Your back was towards him, a little gap between you. Even so, his arm draped over your waist, and your warmth reached his front angled towards you.
Price had dragged his hand lightly down to your hip, feeling the skin beneath the oversized shirt you'd gone to sleep with, but his hand managed to sneak beneath nonetheless. When his palm settled on the curve of your hip, your skimpy panties beneath his skin, he'd pushed up on his elbow.
His eyes had travelled over your face, or what could be seen of it as your arm partly covered it, checking if you were awake even though your breathing already suggested you weren't. Noting your stillness, Price made his way out of bed slow to not stir you.
Dressing into his jeans and shirt felt wrong as he watched you continue to sleep soundly. He wanted to stay for a few more moments, press close to your back, bury his head in your nape, and linger in the moment. But he knew his willpower to go to base and hold the meeting he was supposed to would wain if witnessing you slowly coming to in his arms.
Price had debated how to leave your flat and fetch the things in his car without getting locked outside. He just brought your keys with him in the end, deciding against leaving the door ajar behind him, concerned for your safety despite the second gate out to the street.
He didn't meet anyone as he went down to his car and up again, allowing Price to wallow in the lingering warmth of your body close to his as he pulled his jacket tight around him in solace. Despite being summer, it wasn't warm in the mornings, crisp and slightly chilly until the rays peeks over the edges of roofs.
A feeling that hadn't been present in a long time, not a genuine one, at least, settled in his bones as he walked through your home with his bag slung over his shoulder. Domestic, his thoughts supplied a label to the feelings growing in his bones, muscles and every fleshly part of him as he slowed his pace past your bedroom, the door open enough that he spotted your sleeping figure beneath the covers.
It lingered as Price had taken a shower, using the towel hanging beneath yours on the rack when done. He'd stopped asking what towel to use just a week before, as a second joined your smaller one near the sink and one by your body towel.
He'd felt something warm enter him when he first noticed the newly added additions, even more so when he'd asked about it to be entirely sure and your head had popped into the opening. Explaining almost shyly you thought he should have his own from how often he's been staying overnight, and so he doesn't need to ask every time.
And since then, Price had become used to moving around your apartment without you by his side. Something about you giving him permanent things at your place erased that 'stranger' feeling one had before getting comfortable in someone else's space.
That's why, when he'd crouched by the side of your bed this morning, dressed in clothes portraying such a different reality to what he felt like this fever-induced daydream was, Price couldn't wait for you to prove that this wasn't just a morbid fantasy created under the influence of morphine taken to ease the pain of a nasty wound, one he was too incoherent to remember.
You'd shown him a part of yourself, your most intimate space, your home, to him, making him comfortable here. He could relax when stepping over your threshold. Knowing he stepped into your world. And yet, everything feels tied to you, not him. That's why he invited you over to his place, wanting not only to see your reaction to stepping into his world but seeing you in his home would settle the anxiety gnawing at his bones. Or so he hoped.
Price felt his fingers, which rested on his thigh, twitch. He wanted to reach for the phone in his pocket and settle the plans for the weekend that were coming with a quick text, even though it was only Monday.
He sighed at himself, remembering correcting the faulty phrase concerning you and his relationship, even though it came from someone much closer and who knew more about his relation to you. "She ain't my girl".
"Why? The two of ya already act like a pair, it seems". Price's eyes flickered to the pastries' Soap motion to, or more so, the significance behind them.
"They've known each other for a month, Johnny". Ghost's comment eases his nerves.
Yes, he'd gotten to know you well over a month. Outside 141 and his nearest circle within work, you were the one he felt the closest to. He'd caught himself entertaining the idea, not only upon talking with the lady at the bakery and now with the men surrounding him, but this morning when he'd walked around in the silence of your flat. He didn't dislike the idea of enjoying his or someone's space together with the other. But it was the first time he liked someone enough to tie into that future.
You brought so much for Price to look forward to, but most of all, you were the embodiment of comfort. Just your presence was enough for him to relax, let his shoulders drop and the tension in his neck ease. That's why it felt right spending time with you, why Price didn't think even a second about how much time you'd spent together despite meeting a month ago.
And yet, today, this morning, made him hesitant to go too fast forward, to let the previous night and this morning make him let go of all reins and fall headfirst into whatever this was.
Today this life, the one his occupation as a Captain of a task force entailed, merged just slightly with the reality he'd created with you on his leave.
You knew he was military, SAS, but neither of you mentioned his work, the topic not easily slid into, despite that you'd explained your job in more detail. It would've been more than right of him to do so in return, but explaining and talking about his profession was one of few included in general parentheses.
There was only so much he could clarify about the field he operated in. And legally, he couldn't disclose much about the task force either. If you hadn't known they were military the night you met and he hadn't gotten to know you'd dabbled in his field of work, he probably wouldn't have mentioned many of the things he had. He didn't keep it a secret, not the basics, but neither was Price one to bring it up in conversations.
Still, you stayed. After everything told and not, you were still here. You wanted him, or so Price assumed since the first night you'd met.
He assumed it wasn't simply feigned interest you'd shown when you'd concerned yourself of what haunted his mind when on leave. He assumed, that when he'd seen the gears turn in your head of how you could voice your questions without overstepping, it was from the sincere concern of doing so, not a forced attempt at seeming friendly. He assumed, that when you so sweetly looked at him only to say in that purred voice that you wanted to help him relax, it didn't only mean for the night.
Otherwise, you wouldn't have entertained him for this long. Yet again, that was what he thought. However, what Price knew what that he needed to give you something to work with. You couldn't support him without him relenting something about himself, this side of him.
He didn't blame his previous partners for his fleeting relationships. Not entirely. He'd remained strict with letting too much spill too early, knowing how some may react, how they try to pull away gracefully. Somehow it was a test, an unintentional one but a test nonetheless. And the answer didn't come until after his first deployment, when he found out how his supposed partner reacted to his previous emotional distance and later physical disappearance. A test of boundaries, one could call it.
And concerning it was only a few weeks more until his first one with you, he thought about it. A lot.
Price shook his head. He blinked, eyes refocusing, noticing his gaze had gotten stuck to the pastries on the table. As his eyes flickered up, he found that Soap and Ghost still exchanged arguments.
"Shouldn't stop him from askin' the lass if it feels right", the Scot said, arms now crossed over his chest, his shoulders resting against the backrest of his chair, spine curved.
"Can't rush", was all the masked Brit responded with, along with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Enough of his. Let's get on with the meetin'", Price interrupted, effectively ending the conversation. None of the others argued, noticing it was their Captain rather than Price commanding them to drop the subject as he opened the mission file before him.
Nevertheless, as they started the meeting, Price couldn't help that Soap's and Ghost's arguments replayed in the silence. Neither how you entered his mind when listening to the others discuss the details of the OP. It never overtook his attention, but it lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing away at the nerves in his inner skull.
After this mission, Price thought, he'll see how you've held up and maybe have a conversation with you.
He didn't like making promises he wasn't sure could be kept. But, this one, that he would come back to speak with you about it, he would go above and beyond to keep. Because it felt different this time, he longed coming back to you before even shipping off.
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the-second-sage · 3 months
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LOADING....
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THE WISDOM OF BUER AT YOUR DISPOSAL
YOU SHALL FIND WHAT YOU LOOK FOR
THE AKASHA WELCOMES YOU, TRAVELLER.
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DEVICE OF ACCESS : THE AKASHA TERMINAL
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PREREQUISITES -
introduction -> welcome! my name is sage, you can call me that or sora. i am currently still a student so my writing schedule will still be a bit rocky but this does also mean i am a minor!! all are welcome to interact, but please do keep in mind that anyone that comments nsfw topics on my posts will be blocked.
rules -> requests are currently open and they will stay open a majority of the time. my rules are to not request or allude to nsfw topics in my inbox, to not request anything along the lines of pedoph!l!a or incest. all are welcome here, just please dont go out of your way to harrass or bother people
MATCHUP REQUESTS -> OPEN
SMAU REQUESTS -> OPEN
THE AKASHA'S MOST RECENT UPDATE -> FEB. 6TH 2024
--- end of prerequisites
--- continue to the akasha's information hub?
THE AKASHA'S INFORMATION HUB
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PROCEED TO THE " CALL OF DUTY " SECTION?
( CONTINUE TO SECTION )
PROCEED TO THE " GENSHIN IMPACT " SECTION?
( CONTINUE TO SECTION )
PROCEED TO THE " JUJUTSU KAISEN " SECTION?
( CONTINUE TO SECTION ) information still being gathered
PROCEED TO THE " MISCELLANEOUS " SECTION?
( CONTINUE TO SECTION ) information still being gathered
63 notes · View notes
princessdimondheart · 7 months
Text
The Twins | Ghost x Wife! Reader
Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader + Their Twins
Warnings: 🔪- violence, terrorist act, blood, inaccurate medical scenes; 😭- fear, emotional stuff, family; 🥺- well deserved happiness
Edited: No
A/N: Simon’s mother doesn’t have a canon name so I decided it’s based off of a flower. You pick which one. Almost 8k words 😳. Part 2? Idk. Sorry it took so long! 😭😭
Masterlist
Character banner ©️ Me
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Tommy brushed his short hair back like it would do anything. It was a standard military cut, close shaven but not exactly bald. When he had it cut- to get used to it he told himself- his twin sister, Violet, laughed in his face. Said he looked like an escaped inmate with the cut or someone from pre-Y2K. He pouted remembering it, he had yelled something about her blue-dyed hair being basic and threw a dirty sock in her face. She yelled and then grabbed his arm and proceeded to throw him over her shoulder. He really should have seen it coming. Her hard work in Tai Kwon Do really paid off. His back and ass hurt for the next few days. 
Unfortunately, his poor mother paid witness to the little altercation. She was tired from a long shift at the hospital and was laying on their gray couch munching on Doritos. She only shook her head when he whined to her about Violet. She told him that if he wanted to join the army like he dreamed about, then he would have to toughen up and not complain about things whenever they went wrong. A distant look shown in her eyes. An old memory most likely; one of their long gone father, a military man, and one of the reasons why Tommy wanted to join. To follow in his father’s footsteps despite his job being the reason he wasn’t in their life anymore. He and his twin got quiet and then went their separate ways. They knew how much the loss of their father hurt their mother and they didn’t want to bring her any more pain by mentioning him when she’s emotionally drained from her shift. 
When Tommy had told her that he wanted to join the army, his mother froze in shock before tears spilled from her eyes. A hand covered her sobs and her brow furrowed. He had never seen his mother cry before and it nearly had him spiraling. He rushed to hug his mother asking her what was wrong. When she calmed down, she pulled back and held his cheek in her hand. 
“You’re just like your father. I knew something like this was going to happen but I wasn’t sure it would be so soon.” She wiped her tears with her other hand. “It’s okay, you can go if you really want to.”
He didn’t realize the tears building up in his eyes until they were running down his face. He was only 15 but he was already a head taller than his mother. She said he got his height from his father. Tommy had to tell her his decision because her permission was what would get him into the army when he turned 16. He had no other dreams, just the army and making his parents proud. 
“Tommy! Are you done checking yourself out? We need to go to this last store before heading home.” Violet’s voice crashed his preening in front of a mirror in an H&M store. “The sun’s already set and we’re running late as it is.”
“Chill, Vi, we don’t always have to be punctual. Mom’s on shift anyways, we can go home at whatever time we want!” He looked at her through the mirror. 
She rolled her eyes at him, scoffing, “says the boy that wants to join the army where punctuality is very important.” 
Violet’s eye color was from her mother, in fact, all of her looks were from her, even her height except her eye shape was from their dad. Tommy was the one who was almost a carbon copy of their dad. There were slight variations in their looks, like skin tone and hair texture but nothing too different. He liked the fact that he looked like his dad. It made him feel closer to him in a way. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s go so you can shut your whining. I am in the army.” Tommy mumbled the last part under his breath. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pushed the other in front of her face, wiggling his fingers for the bags she was holding. She handed them over when he moved his hand closer to her face and she swatted it away. Sure, he messed around with his sister but he was still a gentleman. His mother would fry his ass if he was anything but. 
They were heading to Piccadilly Circus to look at the stores in search of a birthday present for their mom. It was coming up soon and they were running behind in the gift department. All other aspects of the little party they were planning were already put together, the only thing left was her gift. Now that he was in the army for just over a year, he had some money saved up and was planning on using it for her gift. That was the reason why he was here, he was on leave for her birthday next week. Violet suggested a nice pair of earrings and a necklace for her since she doesn’t really own jewelry other than her wedding bands. Tommy readily agreed. 
The walk from H&M to the square wasn’t longer than ten minutes but they took their time window shopping along the way. The square was decently crowded, it was a Thursday after all and there were plenty of tourists and locals scurrying in and out of the shops. Tommy rubbed his hands together, it was cold that night. Unusual for the time of year but he assumed global warming was to blame. He really wished spring would finish up so summer could get here. 
~~~~~
Ghost was methodically sharpening his knife on a whetstone when Price knocked on his door with a loud bang. His masked head whipped up and he gripped the knife tighter. 
“Load up, Simon. My office, yesterday!” His voice was hurried and gruff. Something was going down and that made Ghost kit up faster than normal. Grabbing his gun he was out of his room in less than a minute. 
In Prices office was the rest of 141, Gaz and Soap were kitted up in their tactical vests with their weapons slung over their shoulders. No one was sitting. 
“We just got word that a terrorist plot is going to go down tonight at Piccadilly Circus. We’re going to head over there before it goes down.” Price shook his head. “Hopefully our presence deters them or we’re able to put a stop to them before anyone gets hurt.”
Gaz was reasonably upset. He had been there for the first attack on the square a few years ago. It was actually how he got into Price’s sights in the first place and joined the Task Force. “Again? Seriously?”
The Captain gave him a knowing look. “If it’s going to be an issue, you can stay here Kyle. You don’t have to go.”
“No-no, sir. It won’t be an issue.” Gaz sighed. “I just hope it turns out better than last time.”
Soap patted him on the shoulder. Price nodded at him and then walked to his office door. 
“Let’s go!”
~~~~~
Violet had tugged on Tommy’s jacket and pointed out a jewelry store that seemed promising. Luckily it was still open so they both went inside. The clerk greeted them but wasn’t as attentive to them because of their youth. That is until they told her their budget. Typical. 
She was looking into the bright glass boxes filled with different types of jewelry in gold, silver, diamonds or other precious stones. Tommy wasn’t really paying attention to her. He fiddled with his dog tags and the busted up ones that belonged to his father. They rested over his jacket. He’d hum and glance at a necklace she was pointing to but he was rather distracted. There was a small commotion just across the street near the metro entrance. 
A black van pulled up and several men jumped out of it seemingly inconspicuous. He thought nothing of it until he saw a handgun sticking out of his waistband. Now, Tommy didn’t do that great in the section about their laws in school but he sure as hell knew that guns were illegal in their country. His brows furrowed, and Violet tugged at his sleeve once more to get his attention. 
“Tommy! What’s with you?” She voiced her annoyance. “What are you looking at?”
She peered around him but didn’t notice what he was staring at so intensely. Tommy noticed that one of the men planted something on a nearby car parked on the street. He felt something go through his body. It was a feeling of cold and dread. Dread of what was most likely going to happen. What it was he didn’t have a clue. He just felt the cold chill his blood and goosebumps ran down his arms. 
His eyes widened in shock and fear when one of the men pulled out an assault rifle from the truck. He only had a few seconds. 
“Get down!” Was all he could manage to get out. 
Tommy turned and grabbed his twin by her arms, pulling her into his body. The shots rang out directly towards them and in various directions. He vaguely remembered hearing a loud boom ring out. Screams spread around them. Tommy could only feel the burning sensations coming from his right arm, lower back and left leg. Violet’s screams were muffled by his jacket, the dog tags dug into her face. Her head had hit the ground hard despite Tommy covering it with his hand, and it throbbed in that dull way. Glass shattered around them and alarms were going off. They dropped heavily to the ground. Tommy’s body was covering Violet’s protecting her from the blaze of bullets still lodging themselves in the walls around them. 
Violet screamed again as one land near their heads. Tears ran down both their faces. He tightened his grip on her. 
“Violet- Violet, please.” He grunted. “It’s okay, we-we’re gonna be fine. Just lay down. S-stay quiet, yeah, you’re good, Vi.”
She was shaking. He was shaking. Although his body was prepared for going to war, his mind had yet to catch up. Although, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was nerves that was causing him to shake, the cold chill spilling through the shattered store front, or the blood seeping out from his wounds. 
Violet felt wet but she couldn’t figure out what it was. At first she thought she had wet herself in fear but the feeling was coming from her torso. She turned her head as best as she could and saw Tommy grimacing in pain. Her eyes looked further down and saw the blood pooling under her. She wasn’t in pain. 
“Tommy! Ta-Tommy, you’re bleedin’!” Her voice pitched high with alarm. She sobbed into his shoulder. Her hands tucked into her body pulled out and wrapped around his back. She held him tight. 
“I-I’m fine, Vi.” He stuttered out. He was feeling weak from the blood loss. 
“Don’t l-lie to me Tommy.” She hiccuped. “You’re s-shit at it.”
More explosions rang beyond the store. They shook the building they were in. Pieces of debris were falling from the ceiling, landing on and around them. Suddenly, various gunshots were fired in rapid succession and Violet worried that more terrorists had arrived. She hoped that the police or some anti-terrorist agency would arrive soon. Several minutes pass and the gunfire lessened until it finally stopped. 
“Tommy? We can get up now, l-let me put pressure on y-your wounds.” Tommy wasn’t saying anything and that worried Violet. Her breathing quickened in her panic. “Tommy!? Get up! Tommy!”
Her hand reached up to push him off of her. It was a struggle as he had gained a significant amount of weight in muscle over the last year. He weighed a ton and when she was finally able to push him off of her, Violet was huffing even with her martial arts skills. Other times she’s able to pull him over her shoulder with momentum but now he was dead weight. God she dreaded the thought. Her shaking hands scrambled to his neck. Two fingers felt for his pulse and found a faint one. It fluttered but it was still there. She sighed in relief. 
Violet tried to remember the first aid course that she took last summer that their mom’s hospital was offering to students interested in joining the medical field. She surveyed his unconscious body to find any wounds and when she found them all she got to work as best as she could. Violet took off her jacket and wrapped it around Tommy’s arm hoping to slow down the bleeding. Then she remembered that he had on a belt and so she took it off to tie around his leg. He unconsciously groaned when she tightened it. She couldn’t really put pressure on the wound on his back but she tried her best to keep a hand covering the wound. The bullet hadn’t gone all the way through and stayed lodged inside him. It wasn’t sanitary but it was the best she could do. 
Her body continued to shake and she looked around the destroyed jewelry store. There were other bodies lying around. Blood was smeared on the shattered glass display where the lady was standing minutes before. The lack of pained noises sent a pang through her chest. More tears rolled down her cheeks and onto Tommy’s shuddering chest below her. She wished she hadn’t insisted on stopping by the other store instead of going straight here. They would have been home earlier. She wished she were the one injured and not Tommy. She was the oldest by a few minutes and it was her job to protect her little twin brother. She wished her mom was there to help Tommy. She wished her dad was there to help them get through this. 
She cried and cried. Pain and sadness filling her up and boiling over in body racking sobs. Her hand gripped one of Tommy’s. 
The silence was almost unbearable, until it wasn’t. 
~~~~~
They were too late, again. The intel that they had been receiving lately was always a little too late than normal. Ghost knew that Price was gonna have a word with all the intelligence personnel when they were done with the mess that was before them. Gaz was pissed as his expression showed. They’d all seen similar scenes like this before but it always hurt more when it happens on home soil. 
The police had arrived but were not as prepared as the Task Force, so they set up a perimeter not letting anyone in or out. They had dispatched all of the terrorists within a few minutes of them being in Piccadilly Circus. A few had lingered in the square while others had gone into some of the shops. Once the area was cleared and the police had began searching for survivors, Price had them doing the same. 
“Soap, Gaz, go together and look for anyone still breathing on the north side. Ghost and I’ll stay on the south side of the square.” They split up and began their search. 
Ghost passed a few bodies that weren’t alive. He saw the Captain flinch at the body of a child but he never said anything. Children were always hard in their line of work but for him it hit closer to home than what Ghost could ever understand. 
“Hello? Is anyone alive?! We’re the army!” Price began to call out in hopes of an answer back. 
There was silence yet it was loud. Sirens, alarms, and broken glass crunched underfoot and around them. They saw that the police and EMTs had found a majority of the survivors near them so they pushed further into the square. Price called out again and a muffled cry called back. 
“Help! Help me please!” The feminine voice cried to them. Her voice pulled them towards her like a lifeline. 
They ran to where the voice came from, a rather famous jewelry store that didn’t look as nice as before. The broken glass and bullet holes would turn anyone away. Ghost made it to the entryway first but Price stopped him with his hand. He gave him a look and went in first. Then Ghost remembered his skull mask and the fear it brought to people, especially civilians, so he waited until he was needed. The familiar crackle of the radio was heard faintly. 
“Shite, get in here Ghost! They’re kids!” Great, another demographic that he wasn’t really good with. When he stood by them he realized that these kids were older than what he thought. They were teenagers. 
Then, he froze. 
Years of memories rushed through his mind in seconds. The sound of laughter… a certain hair color… the smell of her favorite perfume… her flowers, whose scent would waft up his nose whenever he came home. Things he so painfully remembered and yet chose to let go so as to not cause tremendous harm. A feeling that he had longed to never let go. He grasped at the tendrils for a short while before that dreadful night. 
Those eyes… they were her eyes. At first he thought that she was kneeling there before him, but then remembered that more than a decade had passed and she would have changed in that time. Rarely had he seen her with tears streaked down her face. Or blood on her clothes…
Her look-alike cried out a sob and reality overtook his memories. 
“Please, please help my brother he got shot.” The girl pleaded looking up as he walked closer. She wasn’t scared of him in the mask but she was for her brother. That’s when Ghost looked down. 
Was he staring in a mirror? This boy. This kid. It was like looking at a photo of his younger self. 
Clink.
Ghost’s eyes snapped to the sound of metal in Prices hand. He’d already done a glance over of the boy and decided that the girl did a good job of wrapping his wounds with what she had. 
“Are these his?” Price asked the distraught girl. 
“Y-yeah. Tommy just joined the army not long ago. Barely over a year in.” She breathed in deeply as if to calm her mind. 
Tommy… he knew a Tommy once. His own brother. Every piece was coming together. He was one, and they were the other two. Just one was left…
“…and the other?” Price continued. He didn’t need to ask but he wanted to confirm the information he held. The cheeky bastard. 
“It’s our fathers… or what’s left of him.” Those same eyes as her looked down. Sadness filled them. Sadness for himself, he realized. A father long gone. Those were the tags that he left behind in the wreckage. Now here they were… somehow returned to him. 
Ghost hardly remembered when the ambulance pulled up in front of the store. Or when the EMTs moved Tommy onto the stretcher. But he did remember the smell of his blood and the salt in the air from her tears. 
Price was able to convince the EMTs to let them go with Tommy and his sister. They weren’t happy about it but decided that armed men tagging along with them after a terrorist attack wouldn’t be so bad. He’d also radioed Soap and Gaz of their departure. They had found some victims buried under rubble and were trying to get them out with some firefighters. 
Price whispered low enough for only Ghost to hear. “You doin’ okay, Simon?”
He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? His new-found daughter was siting across from him while his son lay injured, bleeding out from wounds caused by a terror act not thwarted by his team. He felt useless. Yet, he felt grateful that he was able to meet his children in a way. The situation was horrible, but that brought them together; and it was highly likely that if it had not happened then he would have never learned about them. He’d have probably died in combat before he ever heard whispers of them. No, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would continue on the path placed in front of him, for now at least. 
He just shrugged his shoulders and stayed silent. That must have been enough for Price as he just eyed him for a bit before looking down at what the EMTs were doing to stabilize Tommy. 
“Oh!” Price jolted in realization. “We never got your name, love! So sorry.” 
The girl looked up at them. She glanced at him then at John. Ghost must have looked strange sitting there in his black gear. They both definitely looked out of place in the ambulance. 
“It’s fine. I’m Violet… Mister…?” She wasn’t stuttering anymore but her voice was subdued and scratchy from her crying. 
“Call me John, young lady.” He nodded at her. “And this is Ghos-“
“Simon, will do.” He had no idea why he cut him off or why he gave her his name, but it brought a grin to Prices lips. 
“Oh, it’s like my da-“ The ambulance coming to a stop cut her off and the EMTs began off-loading the gurney. 
They moved themselves out of the way and followed closely behind as he was rolled into the emergency department. There were other ambulances dropping off patients from the attack. EMTs, doctors and nurses were coming in and out, and there was a heavy police presence at the entrances. 
Inside was more chaotic. The hospital was in Code Orange for mass casualty or disasters. 
Patients lay in gurneys as nurses and residents tended to them. Many of the dead rested under blood soaked sheets, yet to be moved to the morgue. Blood pooled on the white floors, some of it was stepped on and tracked throughout the rooms. Cleaning workers did their best to mop up the evidence of the nights tragedy. Very few had minor injuries. Friends and family were there searching for missing relatives. One of the smarter police officers began a missing persons board and had them write descriptions of the missing. 
As Violet stepped through the automatic door, she saw her mom finish tending to an older lady who had been grazed by bullets and suffered a concussion when she fell over. She fiddled with her gloves. It was loud in there but when she called for her mother, the older woman’s head shot up in fear. 
“Mom!”
Hearing this, Ghost’s eyes scanned the crowd. He had to find her. A face he hadn’t seen in years, unless he counted the similarities with his daughter. It wasn’t so hard. He’d recognize her face if he was blind and only had his hands to see. 
She was older, of course, but no less as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was styled differently, likely due to her job, but still shined healthily. Her scrubs were in her favorite color and a blood stained white lab coat donned her body. She wore blue gloves and a face mask as she tended to her patients. 
“Violet!” She speedily walked to her daughter, passing between other doctors and nurses. Fingers tugged on latex and she dumped the gloves in a garbage can filling up with similar bloody items. Her hands rested on Violet’s shoulders as she couldn’t hug her with all the blood on her. 
She gasped when she saw Tommy. 
“Tommy!” She cried and tears flooded her eyes. Her hands went to his cut up face. “You were there?!”
An EMT asked her to help them. “This patient needs immediate care, doctor!”
“I-I’m sorry. I’m too close to the patient.” She stuttered. 
She looked around her in the chaos for a free doctor. She hardly noticed the two armed men hanging back. Her eyes stopped on her colleague. He had worked as a doctor for over forty years and had done thousands of surgeries. He had been a great mentor to her since she first started working at this hospital. 
“Jack! Dr. Yates!” She called over to him loud enough for others to look over. The older gentleman startled but made a bee-line for her. When he was close, she grabbed a part of his white sleeve. “Please, doctor, help my son. I’m too close to work on him properly.”
The grayed man gave a look over Tommy and had them immediately push him to an open operating room. He grasped her upper arm. “Don’t you worry your brilliant mind, sunny. We’ll get him spick and span in no time. Take a break for a few minutes, you’ve been running around since 5 this mornin’.”
Letting go, she only nodded along as they wheeled Tommy away. She allowed a tear to fall. It dripped onto the floor, mixing with other bodily fluids that fell from their patients. She tried not to let her fear of her losing another person get to her. 
Not again. Not here. Not now. 
“Mom?” Violet called for her worried about her sudden silence. She tugged on the back of her white coat, which was still white, surprisingly. That got her moving. 
“Violet? Are you alright? You’re okay, right? There’s blood all over you!” She inhaled once. “Do I need to get you som-“
“Mom! I’m fine! Honestly!” Violet interrupted, her bottom lip wobbled. “T-Tommy protected me. He saved me, mom!”
She sobbed harder than before and her mom, now not caring for the blood, pulled her in for a tight hug. They clung to each other desperately. Violet was shorter than her mom so she was able to burry her face into her neck. Tears wetting her skin and clothes. 
Movement behind them, made her look up, unsure if anyone else needed help. It was the two men that had come in with Violet. She had not really noticed them before because all her focus was directed to Tommy and Violet; her two most important things in life. Both had some blood on, what she now realized was military kits, and they stood there in silence carrying their weapons slung over their shoulders. One wore a funny fishing hat and the other had a rather fitting face mask for the overall mood of the day. The skull plated mask hid the face underneath. Her eyes lingered and he caught her gaze. 
Ghost stared at his once-wife in the eyes. The eyes that would always making him feel like he was falling deeper into her soul. She spoke but his ears weren’t working. Price answered and his hand whacking his arm made him blink twice and their staring ended when she looked at Prices hand. 
“No, we’re fine… Doctor…?” Price answered her worries of injury. 
“I’m Doctor-“
“Dr. Riley!” A nurse interrupted her. Ghost felt his chest tighten. She’d kept his name. “We need you here! He’s code blue-ing!”
She sprang from her daughters arms. “Coming! Violet go to my office and stay there for me, please. I’ll be back soon, hopefully.”
Violet nodded before her mom ran off to where the patient had just rolled in. She jumped onto the gurney and began chest compressions. The EMTs continued to the elevator and up to the operating rooms like nothing had happened. More nurses followed them into the large elevator. Her mom pumping that mans chest was the last she’d see of her for the next few hours. 
She was still a Riley. His Riley. After all these years, he remembered her saying that she wanted to keep her maiden name for her doctor status. He was always okay with that and knew she’d never change her mind, despite her taking his name, although hyphenated, when they married. He wondered what made her change her mind. Then he remembered that he had ‘died’ several months before her graduation as a resident. He reminisced on how he snuck in to see her one last time at the ceremony before running away to the battlefield. 
Price eyed Ghost as he stood there staring at the closed elevator doors, even when they opened as another body was taken down to the morgue. He looked tense, brows furrowed, pained, and understandably so. His whole life just flipped over and over in the matter of a few hours. 
But then Ghost glanced at his hands. Bloodied hands. Tommy’s blood. Then to Violet and then back again to the dried blood. The blood of his only son. It dawned on him that he almost lost him. Almost her. Both of them could have been stripped of their lives. And so easily too. He hardly knew them and that hurt him even more. 
“Ah… let’s escort you to your mums office, yeah?” Price called to Violet, who was also spacing out. 
She wiped her face and nodded. She led them to the stairwell and they climbed up two stories. Several corridors down and they were in a decent sized office. Price told them he would get them some snacks and drinks at the vending machines he saw awhile back. Ghost knew he was giving him time to talk to Violet. He was somewhat grateful and annoyed that Price knew what he needed. 
They both sat down on the cushioned chairs. Violet flung herself down with a loud sigh. She was drained both mentally, physically and emotionally. She wanted this nightmare to be over. 
“You’re Violet, right?” His deep voice asked and Violet’s eyes drifted upward. He’d heard her name multiple times, was even introduced, but he needed the confirmation again. 
“Yeah, I’m Violet… why?” She looked a bit confused, brow raised just like her mother used to give him. 
His chest tightened and he felt like he couldn’t get the words past his lips but he forced himself to. There was no better time than right now. “I- I just know your mum… that’s all.”
“Really? Why didn’t she recognize you?” She asked but Ghost pointed at his masked face and she blushed. “Oh, right.” 
The silence was awkward for a moment before Violet spoke, surprising Ghost with her words. 
“Well… I like your mask. Kinda edgy. It’s actually pretty cool… for an old man.”
“How do you know I’m old?” Ghost tilted his head slightly. 
Violet scoffed and crossed her arms, leaning back into the chair. “You know my mom, so you’ve gotta be old.” Ghost almost rolled his eyes; she was gonna be the death of him. Then she looked contemplative. 
“Do you think Tommy will still be able to be in the army?” She looked at his eyes, her brows furrowed even more. “It’s been his dream for the longest and now that he’s in, I don’t think he’d ever get out… but if he’s discharged, I think that’ll hurt him the most.” 
Ghost didn’t say anything right away so she continued her little rant. “Mom tried to get him to go to uni, but his heart was set on the army ever since he learned that our dad was in. He held onto that dream for so long and when mom let him go, well, I’ve never seen him so happy…”
Her breath shortened as tears ran down her face. “I—I should have been paying more attention. It’s my fault. I have no situational awareness, damnit, even Tommy’s told me that before. If I’d noticed sooner or realized what was going on, he wouldn’t be hurt. I’m the older twin. I should be-be the one taking care of him!” She sobbed harder. 
Ghost came to kneel in front of her. He took her hand that was twisting her bloody shirt. “It’s not your fault. You, nor anyone there, knew what was about to happen. Terrorists have no regards for the lives of the innocent while doing things that would harm them.”
“Tommy’s hurt but I can tell that he’s strong. I’ve been hurt like that before and I healed up fine. Plus he has even greater care here. They’ll take care of him and you only need to keep your head up and know that Tommy’ll pull through.” He continued. “He’s young so he’ll bounce back well enough to return to his unit. Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout that.”
“Thanks.” She laugh-cried. “But it’s hard to take you seriously with that mask.” She giggled. 
Ghost huffed. “Well, Tommy pulled some heroics back there saving you. Might even earn a brag rag with the right recommendations…”
Violet’s confused head tilt made him explain the meaning. “It’s a medal.”
Her eyes brightened. “You’d do that?”
He hummed. “Captain Price might put in a good word too, but yeah, he deserves it.”
There was a sudden and somber silence. His hand gripped his knee to prevent it from bouncing. 
“Ah… any plans for uni? Or something…?” Bollocks, how the hell do you talk to a 17 year old girl, who is also your child but doesn’t know it? Improvise… he guessed?
Violet told him that she was debating going to vet school or medical school to become a surgeon like her mother. She wasn’t sure which university she would apply to. 
“Tommy keeps teasing me that I should join him in the army as a field surgeon. But… um, I think I wanna help out people in our community here.” She chuckled softly. “I told him that if he ever got hurt he could come to me to patch him up, but that I’d have to hurt him again for even getting injured in the first place.”
Ghost smiled under his mask. Mask. His mask?
Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Perhaps one too many whacks to the ole head. Or maybe it was the high of meeting his long lost children for the first time. Ghost wasn’t sure what it was…
His hand reached up, curling under the bottom of his balaclava, and pulled the black cloth over his head in one tug. The higher it went, the more his chin, lips, nose, cheeks, eyes, and hair was revealed. 
Violet’s breath hitched as she took his face in. Her eyes roamed over every feature and scars. She knew this face, from the back of her mind she knows that this face is like the one going through surgery right now. Like the one in the frame sitting on her mother’s desk right in front of her. Tears began to burn her eyes but did not fall. Her lip wobbled. 
~~~~~
“Violet, I am your father…” Simon’s eyes stared into hers for a moment before closing tightly. His brows scrunched together and his lips tugged into a fine line. 
“Was t-that a Star Wars reference? Or are you being serious?” Violet asked confused, burning tears finally falling. 
“You’ve seen Star Wars?” Stop deflecting, Simon!
“What?! Don’t change the subject Mr. Simon!” She gasped, her eyes widening. “Mister… Simon. Simon. Simon?”
“Yeah?” He asked, swallowing hard. 
“This doesn’t make sense! I-I must be hallucinating. Maybe, maybe I actually did die or something.” Violet’s voice shook. She closed her eyes and moved her head side to side. There was a subtle shake to her body. “Nope! This is not fucking real! You’re supposed to be dead! Dead, I tell you!”
Oh god, she’s reverting back to her drama club days. 
“Umm… language?” Not the time to reprimand her for her words. “I mean. Sorry. It’s… It’s just a really, really long story. I actually don’t know how I’d tell-“
“Daddy!” Violet sobbed and before Simon could comprehend it, the teenager had her arms wrapped around him as much as she could with his size and body armor. 
The shock in his eyes softened with her continued sobbing. It struck him in his heart. All the walls he’d built since before joining the Task Force began to crumble. Piece by piece, chunks began to disintegrate. His own eyes burned with tears that hadn’t fallen in years. It was almost a relief when they did start to fall. They dropped onto Violet’s shoulder and rolled down her back. 
Simon didn’t know how long they held onto each other for. Hours or days could pass but he would rather still be in the newfound embrace of his daughter. Violet had settled into soft sniffles and little hiccups, eventually falling asleep in his lap. His own tears had dried, for now, leaving streaks down his cheeks. For a moment, it felt peaceful despite the chaos several floors down and a few streets away. His arms tightened around Violet. He wasn’t sure if he could ever let her go… 
His eyes staring off into the wall flashed to the door when it was pushed open. And there she was. 
~~~~~
Dr. Riley sighed as the sound of the EKG flatlining continued. They had initially brought the patient back from cardiac arrest and proceeded with the surgery. However, in the last fifteen minutes he began to show signs of another cardiac episode. The nurses and she had tried their best but unfortunately the patient’s wounds were too much for his body to handle. 
Pulling off her bloody gloves and dumping them into the hazardous waste disposal, she told the nurses to take a breather since they’d been going at it for hours by that point. Hell, her shift had long been over when her daughter and son had arrived but she had stayed. She couldn’t bear leaving while knowing that many people were suffering. She’d seen over a dozen patients when the casualties started pouring in, almost tripling her patient count for the day. 
A quick change of clothes in a designated room and she was walking back to her office. Eerily, the floor her office was on was quiet. There were other busy wards here but the chaos was concentrated downstairs. She heard her crocs squeak on the polished floors. It used to make her blush at the loudness of the sound but now she couldn’t give a fuck. Her patients needed her, damnit!  As if a squeaky shoe would hold her back from reaching her patients on time just because she was embarrassed by the sounds. 
Reaching the door to her office, she noticed that the light was on letting her know that Violet had made it in one piece. 
“Hey, Violet, are you hungry-!” Her eyes widened in mild confusion and concern at what she saw, before glaring slightly. “What the fuck?!”
Her Violet was in the arms of a strange grown man, she been crying, clearly as they stained her cheeks. She nearly lost her top and yelled more before focusing on the man’s features. 
It was like seeing a ghost. 
He said something but it was like cotton balls were stuffed into her ears. Whatever it was she probably needed to see an otolaryngologist. She felt something fall down her face and along her neck and into her clean scrubs. Her vision blurred. She wasn’t sure if it was from tears building up or her body moving quickly in their direction. 
~~~~~
Simon called for her by name. He hadn’t said it in a very long time. It honestly hurt him to. After all, he had left her alone and with his children no less, although he hadn’t known. He’d spent some time thinking about it while holding onto Violet. If he would have stayed had she been able to tell him about them. He would like to think that, yes, he would have stayed, but Simon wasn’t sure if his own insecurities and trauma related to his abusive father would push him from wanting to claim such a responsibility. 
She stared blankly at him. Her dull and tired eyes worried him. He knew she’d had a long and hard day. Simon missed the shine in her eyes from long ago. He was starting to feel strange with her gawking. He shifted in his seat as softly as he could to not disturb Violet. 
The movement seemed to awaken her and gave her the strength to move closer to him. But her knees weakened and Simon had to outstretch an arm in order to catch her. A loud sob fell from her lips. Slightly chapped due to lack of time to care for them that day. The jerkiness of his movement woke up Violet and when she saw her crying mother in the arm of her dad, her tears renewed. 
“Mom!” She tasted salt. The words were taken from her. 
Simon pulled her up into his lap too, before tightening his arms around both of them. Both of his girl’s hands were clutching him equally as tight. They were all breathing heavily and their bodies shook with each sob, with each inhale and exhale. Simon rested his head against theirs. Fingers tangled in their hair. 
After they all calmed down a bit, Simon began to explain what happened all those years ago. What happened to his family, why he left, and that if he had known that he was going to be a parent that he would have taken the time to think things more carefully before doing anything drastic. 
She raised her hand against his stubbled cheek. “It’s not your fault, Simon. I should have told you about the pregnancy sooner. I-I just wanted to surprise you when you came home, but…” 
He knew the ‘but,’ he never came home. Only a news article about a whole family dying in a house fire. Dog tags left to be found hours later. His only living ‘relative’ was his father. 
He needed to stop thinking about his father, who he believes may or may not still be around. But those fears of being like him as an adult presented as usual. It was a constant struggle to let those feelings go. Feelings of inadequacy surfaced and since his face wasn’t covered as usual, it was easier to see by his frown and furrowed brow. 
She recognized that look on his face despite the many years apart. She held his face in her palm. He leaned into it, his own hand coming up to hold hers closer to him. The look in her eyes told him all the reassurances that he craved. 
Violet watched all this in awe. Never would she have thought that she’d be witness to the love between her mother and father. She tucked herself closer to her father’s chest. Violet had grown even more tired after the attack and the crying. Her eyes drooped and a sigh left her lips as she fell asleep. Simon’s arm subconsciously pulled her closer. 
It felt like hours but only thirty minutes had passed before Dr. Riley got restless. She tapped Simon on the shoulder. 
“I should go check if there are any updates on Tommy.” She said and Simon, reluctantly, let her go. “I’ll come back if there’s any news. And I’ll bring you both something to eat. Surprisingly, the cafeteria has a decent sandwich selection.”
Ghost nodded and readjusted his grip on Violet to hold her with both arms. 
“I can have a cot brought in if you want?” She looked lovingly between the two. A soft smile tugged at her lips. 
“Ah… I think I’m fine, for now at least.” His pale cheeks flushed. He just couldn’t let his little girl go. Especially not when she’s sleeping so peacefully in his arms. 
She nodded and left the room. 
During that time, his phone had buzzed and a text from Price glowed back at him. He texted that he had the next few days off and to not come in to work for any reason other than emergencies. 
Simon texted back a simple, “Okay.”
~~~
Dr. Riley returned with food in paper bags and good news. Tommy was in post-op and was being moved to a private room soon. She told Simon that she could take them there. So, Simon stood with Violet in his arms, who surprisingly has not been awoken by the move. His arms were under her knees and back. 
They had arrived before Tommy so Simon took the time to survey the room. It was rather large with a couch on each side of the room. His love told him that they pulled out into beds if they wanted to use them. Simon lowered Violet onto the blue couch, resting her head on the pillow and covering her with the provided gray hospital blanket. 
Thirty minutes later and Tommy was rolled in by a team of nurses. The principle doctor residing over his care began to explain the next steps in Tommy’s recovery. It felt like a lot but Simon was intimately familiar to the process due to his own previous injuries. 
Afterwards, his love was finally able to rest so she sat next to him on the other blue couch. There was distance between them and Simon couldn’t get his body to melt into the soft couch. He could feel her glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. He spied her hand inching towards his. His eyes looked and then looked away. He argued with himself to just grab hers. He finally said ‘fuck it all’ and just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her whole body closer. 
A soft squeak escaped her lips. He buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like her shampoo. She melted into his embrace. 
“Simon?” He hummed. “I don’t know how, but, thank you.”
He looked her in those eyes that kept him awake at night. “Of course.” 
~~~
Two days later… 
~~~
Bleary brown eyes fluttered open. He took several moments to blink away the crust on his eyes. The blindly white room was dark with only a soft amber lamp glowing in the far corner. He felt like his body was stuck to what he was laying on. He looked down and saw white sheets. 
A flash of dark movement caught his eye from one of the pull out beds, fully stretched out and occupied. He shifted his stiff neck to see who or what it was. 
He saw his own eyes. 
Maybe he was dead. After all, he swore he saw his father sitting there by his mother. He tried his hardest but the sedatives won the battle. His tired eyes blinked slowly before finally closing. His breath evening out in slumber. 
Wide brown eyes stared at the monitor. Only relaxing when the machine kept beeping at a constant rate. Then, Simon laid back down and clutched her closer. She sighed and moved closer to him. And damn was he happy in that moment. 
Masterlist
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cherylmaso · 11 months
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how to get a grip and write soap non cringeworthy (by a glaswegian lass)
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this may or may not be half a rant. but. okay. okay. i made a post like this before, but i kinda wanted to detail it a little more as i've seen posts like these popping up, but made by english people.
so i'm gonna make one about being scottish for non scots and how to more accurately portray soap as scottish. this is probably mostly aimed at people from tiktok, so feel free to share it around. this is also educational as well as light-hearted and is meant to be taken as such, don't get offended or just be fr
1.) okay, i'm gonna start off by saying... some of these unintentional(or intentional) stereotypes are fucking mind blowing. i'm not one to necessarily get offended by things like this, but i think it's worth mentioning. not all of us play bagpipes, or run around wearing kilts... or - for the love of god - RUN AROUND SCREAMING "SCOTLAND FOREVER." honestly..... it's so odd? i know you would be heavily offended if i called you a fat american, but really what's the difference?
(also the scotland forever is so cringe. i've never in my entire life heard anyone from this country say that)
2.) since i don't think there's any canon of where soap was specifically brought up in scotland(city-wise), i'll have to go off accents and his voice actor for this point. which is alright with me, because scottish accents can be very easily identified.
a lot like the english, scottish people can have MANY varying accents, and a lot of varying phrases. for example, someone down in ayrshire might say "i ken" instead of "i know" whereas people from glasgow usually wouldn't. you catch me?
...now, soap. soap would not go around saying certain phrases. from what i hear, he sounds glaswegian/edinburgh, which is east/west of scotland. the tiniest... TINIEST... bit of research will unveil a plethora of things that people from there would actually say.
aye/yes, naw/no, cannae/cant, could'nae/couldn't, fizzy drink/soda, how/why(this one is weird)..... that's an extremely small portion but you get the point. the scots talk EXTREMELY different than americans do, we have new words for almost everything.
and, before i lose my mind, PLEASE STOP HAVING SOAP REFER TO HIS MOTHER AS MOM. thank you.
3.) the general cringe. i've literally seen people say he would refer to himself as a big scotty boy. no one in scottish history has ever referred to themselves as that unironically. ever. again, circling back to the similarities between the english and scottish, we both have very sarcastic/edgy/cynical humour. ours won't be the same as the americans. our definition of sarcasm differs from yours. headcanons are fine, sometimes, but it's so out of character most of the time if you aren't from the country. bro would NOT spend his free time listening to lana del rey but don't let that stop you from saying he would LMAO
4.) we don't call ourselves british. i mean, some of us do(if yer a bastartin tory x), but most of us will literally get offended if you call us british. we'd all just much rather call ourselves scottish. don't ask me why.
5.) also! please educate yourself on how to properly use scottish slang. the amount of things that just genuinely do not make sense is appalling. it takes two seconds. also my dms are always open... feel free to ask a literal glaswegian lass. context also matters. if you don't know what you mean, just shut the fuck up x
6.) ...he wouldn't be a tory. none of them would be fucking tories. none of them would be sad about the queen. i know americans can't comprehend we don't actually worship the queen in britain, but considering they all probably grew up in some form of poverty or just a bad household, they just wouldn't be tories. or they literally wouldn't care.
7.) props to codie for this point. circling back to the stereotypes, i think it's MENTAL to see what you guys think are "funny" and "relatable" when really, you're absolutely perpetrating harmful scottish stereotypes. ha ha you are so funny when you make jokes about soap being really aggressive and a "gremlin" and an alcoholic and ahahha scotland forever and ahahahha he has bagpipes as his alarm clock... sorry but it's really not as funny as you think it is. like, there's a line and a lot of the time all you cunts online love crossing it with your poorly written headcanons and tiktok videos. i think a lot of you deserve to be told that it's not okay. i know you would all cry if we done the same and also it's just kinda embarrassing
8.) learn our culture but don't forget theres so much more to it. this isn't even primarily about scotland culture but more so british culture as a whole. it's completely different from any other culture and it's also not super hard to do your research. kinda hard to explain if you're not part of it but yk what i mean. sometimes it's obvious to me that you guys don't care to educate yourself and don't care to understand different cultures but i appreciate those that do lol
9.) where soap is from, he wouldn't speak gaelic either. i'm sorry, he just wouldn't. not really a thing in big cities. it's scots he would speak, and there's a difference. don't say they're the same things or you """prefer""" to call gaelic scots. yes someone actually said that LMFAOO. scottish gaelic isn't just saying aye and naw either. jesus fuckign christ x if you don't understand the difference or what you're even saying then just don't say anything LMAO
that's all for now. i'll probably randomly think of other stuff to add, but for now it's currently 5am and i cba. sorry if theres mistakes/typos, again, cba x
also if u get offended u need to get a grip and this is obvs aimed at u. ok have a good day pookie bears xx
(i promise i don't have a problem with americans but it's funny how it's always you guys)
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blingblong55 · 4 days
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tornado-141
Soap: does anyone remember what to do!
Gaz: you should go towards the eye of the storm
Ghost: where's the eye of the storm, Gaz
Gaz:....i dunno
Ghost: that's what I thought
R/N: tell someone you trust
Price: no, r/n, thats only if the tornado is molesting you
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ilove-masked-men · 7 months
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Happy kinktober !!!
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This won't be an average post, I'm just ovulating and horny
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Kinks that will be used - choking, finger riding, cockwarming
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Warnings! Heavy smut , edging , p in v , unprotected!sex , hate!sex , mentions of aftercare if you squint.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
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You hated Simon. You hated him so much that if you had the chance, you'd tear him limb from limb, and you're sure he'd do the same. So why were you both aware of the heavy tension between you? That's how you ended up in his office, sitting on his lap whilst his length was inside of you.
It stretched you out alot, no prep beforehand, it was your punishment. One of his hands were on your hips to stop you from wriggling around and getting the friction you so desperately needed, the other was on your neck, holding tightly. You couldn't take it you needed more then this, you wanted to feel him properly. You bucked your hips forward and a choked moan escaped your lips, his grip around your neck and hips tightened.
"P-please... Sim-Simon..." You stuttered as you felt tears graise your eyes.
"Your being punished for being a brat, I'm not giving you what you want. Understand me?" He said in a firm tone as he forced you to meet eye contact.
"Please.." You said quietly as he shifted in his seat making your eyes flutter.
He was quiet for a moment before he slowly removed you from off his cock, a whine escaped your lips as he put you on his desk for a moment. Then he put his gloved hand in between your lips. "Bite." He said firmly, and you did. He removed his glove and grinned slightly. He pushed the accessory deeper into your mouth as a gag, knowing it was probably smart to do so as there were offices on the other side of the thin walls.
His ungloved hand went down to your thighs, you had come increasingly sensitive from your lack of attention, so a graise to your inner thigh made you shiver. He chuckled. "Slut.." He whispered under his breath as his fingers found your clit and stroked it softly, he held eye contact the whole time, only making you more aroused as your slick covered his fingers and cunt clenched around nothing. He grinned before moving his ring and index finger into your entrance, he moved a little, curling his fingers as he waited to find that spot.
It was when your eyes rolled back and back arched as he curled at one spot when he grinned and stilled his motions. He kept his fingers slightly curled and looked at your needy body before speaking. "I'm not doing all the work here sweetheart.." He said quietly in an almost teasing way. That's when you got the greenlight in your head and began to ride his fingers. Muffled moans and whimpers escapee your lips as you rode him at an uneven pace.
Your head dropped into his shoulder as your breathing quickened, his fingers would curl and uncurl every now and then, making you struggle and choke on your movements. Gradually your movements became more sloppy and Ghost decided to step in, he put his free hand on your hip and guided your movements whilst still curling and uncurling his fingers. This lead you to the brink of ecstasy as you began to shake and your back arched again as you came onto his fingers.
"Good girl..." He said under his breath, he removed his glove from your mouth and hand from your entrance, he pulled you back onto his lap as looked at the arousal on his glove, he smirked before pulling down his balaclava and locking it off your fingers. Just the sight made you wet all over again. You bit you lip and looked away as he chuckled quietly.
He took the glove off am placed it on his desk. He used his hands and signalled you to turn around, whilst you were doing so he all of a sudden grabs the back of your neck and forces you over his desk as your whole behind was exposed to him, your throbbing cunt beckoning for him.
"Remember. There are people next door, wouldn't want them knowing what a good whore you are would we?" He told you as he rubbed his tip on your entrance. He kept a firm grip on the back of your neck as he pushed himself slowly into you, letting you readjust to his size, he slowly thrusted with a small grunt before picking up the pace.
You were a moaning whimpering mess, you tried to conceal them bur it wasn't working too much as he thrust harder and deeper into you. "Fuck your a tight one.." He said with a grunt as he got rougher and rougher. "Remember whore, if you don't start fucking behaving I'm going to be putting you in your place more often, understand?" He said to you.
You could only reply with a small nod of your head as he kept hitting that gummy spot inside of your body.
"Use your words love.." He grunted as he picked up his pace and tightened his grip on your neck.
"Y-yes..." You got out as you felt tears flood to your eyes, you tighten around him again signalling how close you were. Then he pulled out and chuckled. "Remember lovie... this is punishment, I'm not letting you finish that easily whore.." He grinned as you turn to face him.
"No, no, no please... please." You whined and bucked your hips.
He sucked his teeth and looked down at your wet cunt before moving a finger down there, gently brushing your clit but it wasn't enough for you to fully react to. You let out an almost pained whimper as he does this a few more times before applying mire pressure but immediately pulling away.
"Your so cute like this... bent over and begging for a release.." He told you, his tip brushed your entrance again and he thrusted into you, deep but slow. Allowing you to moan and whimper and finally release onto him. He thrusted a few more times before his movements started becoming sloppy and you heard his breathing quicken. His grip on you tightened as he pulled out and came on your back with a grunt.
"Be a brat again, and I'll make you beg longer, understand?" He said to you with a chuckle before grabbing an old t-shirt and cleaning you up.
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scarletevening · 6 months
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𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 [ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 ]
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𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔 | 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗹 + 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 |
cw: suggestive, foul language, power play, fear play, establish relationship, gn!reader
notes: primal play is when partners revert to 'primal' instincts to act upon sexual urges, in this case, outdoors.
𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 filled your blood as your feet carried you through the forest.
your breath filled your lungs, heart pumping loudly in your ears as your struggled through the jumbled mess of the forest floor. you didn't hear it, couldn't would probably be more accurate, but too close than your instincts would ever allow, a man stalked behind you.
price grinned as he chased after you, empty rifle hanging on his shoulder, heavy boots stomping down the hill. he knew you were no match for him, graced in a lacy lingerie he tied you up in, too skimpy to protect your supple skin from the outreaching branches of old trees. his heart thumped in shared exhilaration as his ran faster than he did before, no longer caring for giving you the mercy of running, a minuscule, illusion of a chance at escaping.
you hear it, heavy, loud, wood breaking and snapping beneath the shoes encroaching upon you. shadows bloomed round you, the setting sun no longer letting your amateur eyes figure out where to go, but the experienced hawk behind you didn't struggle.
wide hands enter your peripheral, your eyes widening as those hands turned to burly arms constricting around you like a snake. you screamed- rather tried to, you sounds silenced by thick fingers burying themselves within your mouth, meddling with your tongue. his broad body handled you to the nearest surface, a large tree, the silk of your 'clothing' doing nothing to protect you from the rough surface of the bark.
"well, well, looks like i caught myself a night little rabbit, hm?"
his voice was gruff, smoke filling your nostrils as he took another drag from his fresh cigar. his lips dragged down your bare nape, tongue tracing quickly behind as his hands hurriedly stripped you down.
price couldn't help how he enjoyed the way you were scratched up, shot up with testosterone and adrenaline, seeing you like this, weak and pathetic, completely at his mercy, made him growl in an animalistic way he never knew he had inside of him.
excitement pumped through your body as price grinded his clothed cock against your bare ass, eyes lingering in arousal at each scratch and cut on your body, groaning with the deep vibrato of primitive lust,
"can't let my catch go to waste, can i?"
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
daddy. also this reminded me of that one episode of criminal minds. less murderous though.
༒︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫; 2023 ༒︎
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lycheedr3ams · 10 months
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I'm sorry, but I can't stay silent about it anymore.... I would FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF GHOST. Down bad asf and it's preposterous. I would fuck that man so- ✋🏻.... ☝🏻 I'll take my leave now.
don't worry, i'd do the same
god, just thinking about his eyes through the skull, looking down at me as i suck his cock
yeah, yeah needless to say, i'd do the same
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