Ghost Mw2 - Blog Posts

If I had brain worms over a specific TF 141 au in mah lil wrinkly brain, who would y'all like me to draw first? I think it's an original au, I haven't seen anything of it before

Please anyone who sees this reblog it cause I'm rlly rlly curious how this'll turn out, thanks!

Look at hiiiim! Such a pretty lad! Gonna give him a smooch if johnny don't get to him first-

Simons tattoos! i have always seen him w neck/chest tattoos but i finally got around to drawing them :]

Alejandro: *at subway, texting the group chat* [how do you all top your subs?]

*five minuets later*

Alejandro: [I’m deleting this goddam group chat and blocking all of your numbers!]

tea time

Realistic Ghost Hcs

Avid tea drinker (he's british)

Thoroughly enjoys british food

Eats beans everyday without fail

Rawdogs plane flights

Literally just stares at the wall

Soap swears he doesn't blink either

Has the most boring room ever

Only need food and water to survive

Played roblox with 141 once and got banned within the first three minutes because mods thought his excessive British slang was slurs

Doesn't take off his face paint

Just let's it pile up

Drinks wine

Not an expert though,he just grabs the first thing he sees on the shelf and says yolo

Physically unable to bring his voice above talking level

Has a very unenthusiastic voice

Literally whenever he's even moderately excited he says 'yay. 😐'

Gets horrible voice cracks when he first wakes up

Soap got a video of it and just barely got away

insanity

fem ghost

ghost has probably never been hugged before in his life 

never touched a cod game in my life

Please show love to this artist, this is perfect

First post 🫶

Simon comes home hard and you happen to be there looking delicious for him NFSW⛔️⛔️.(HEADPHONES mdni)

Credit: Badjhur❤️❤️(I do not own audio)

GHOST NFSW AUDIO(USE HEADPHONES) MDNI

Credit: Badjhur

Full audio: https://soundgasm.net/u/Badjhur/M4F-Ghost-Stories-Riling-up-Riley

Ghost(SPICY)Headcanons

MDNI⚠️⛔️☢️

Big boy. About 6 inches soft and can grow 8 inches when hard. Girth, and curved. He has 5 huge veins, but the vein that runs on the back of his dick is really sensitive. So when you give him head, drag your tongue on it and he is busting. 💦

Happy happy happy trail. He is a man and will have hair. He can trim it, but when he comes from work expect that happy trail to be real happy.

Loves pulling hair. When you are in doggy style, he will grab your hair. If you don’t have a lot of hair, he will grab the back or front of your neck. He even grabs hair outside the bedroom. For example, if he is talking to you and you don’t answer him he will quietly come up from behind you and wrap his hand around your hair like it’s rope, and cock your neck to the side so his mouth is directly in your ear.

“Couldn’t you hear me love? I asked you what time you planning on leaving.”

He loves a girl who can squirt. Shoves his thick fingers deep in your pussy and curve inside you feeling that soft spongy spot over and over while he takes his hot 💧moist 💧tongue and slurp up the juices on your clit. He even nibbles on it just enough for you to jolt back in pleasure. Bonus points if you squirt in his mouth. He will swallow it like it’s coconut water.

Never takes his eyes off you. He loves staring deep in your eye while he fucks you. It don’t matter if you can’t maintain eye contact. Just know if you ever happen to look at him during sex, he is staring at you with those hot lazy eyes. Sometimes while he is fucking you he forces you to stare at him. Even outside of the bedroom when your talking, he holds eye contact the whole time.

Ass guy🍑. Gripping, grabbing, smacking, and fucking that ass! He will give your ass a kiss goodnight to fucking it good morning. When he eats your pussy out from the back, he make sure to drag his tongue on ur ass cheek before giving it an aggressive squeeze.

If you are in doggy position he will slap your ass cheek and command you to throw it back on his dick(jus do it <;()).

Loud groaner. He cusses a lot. When he is about to cum he does these deep whimpers and then curse under his breath while biting his lips and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

Loves when the two of you go out and you decide to wear tight fitting clothes. When you bend down he makes sure to slip his hand on your ass and give it a hard slap

Aggressive kisser. When he kisses you he bites all over your lip and place his hands on your neck. He goes from your lips to your neck and back up. He will suck on your tongue as if was candy and he was trying to get the flavor off of it. Did I mention that he is into spitting??? Will spit all over you.

Kissing? “Open wide girl and swallow it or would you prefer to swallow something that is more solidified like a bullet to the back of your fucking throat.”

Before he eats you out? Spits all over your pussy weather your wet or not. He loves seeing his spit go inside of you. Even before he jerk himself off/ a blowjob he will tell you to spit on his dick while rubbing himself off before giving you the rest of the job.

Will fuck you DUMB. No safe word, no pleading, no nothing. He is fucking you till HE IS TIRED. If you ride him and you can no longer support yourself then he got you by the waist. If your jaw is to sore from sucking him off it’s all good! He will grab ur head and face fuck you. If you even think about moving he will tie you down and keep a vibrator in you over night.

Simon love when you make sounds. He just don’t wanna hear you moan he wanna hear you scream, howl, make sounds that only he came make come out of you

~Let mw know who you want me to make next🩶

How many soldiers do y’all think it would take to take down Ghost (2022)???

Five? Six? Seven???

I’m talking, all working together, and they manage to get the drop on him. (After he’s had like, a few-ish days of not sleeping well, and not eating as much as he probably needs to while on active deployment.)

Just capturing him, not like, killing him or anything. (Possibly with the help of tranquilizers/sedatives/what-have-you too?)

Help.

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part V

warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part

P.S. I wrote all day and now as I post this it's 2.30 a.m. and I'm too tired. I'll make links and all the other things work tomorrow. I'm thinking of adding one more part.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the fifth time you meet it’s at the shooting range on site

- Price informs you that the TF 141’s crew likes to challenge each other for the title of the best marksman and you’re invited to participate as a guest to help you bond better with one another, and indirectly and subtly gauge your skill in action, as you’ve deduced; you surprise them with the affirmation; you’d like to point out that underestimating you, will be their mistake, but you refrain from doing so basking in the advantage you have over them

- you don’t make the winning title; you knew you wouldn’t; that title is always disputed between Ghost and Soap; but you do make a good impression; though you avoid having to get in a shootout on missions, knowing there’s more risks than worth the trouble, your aim is excellent; you can hit a target both stationary and mobile targets at various distances; not many can manage the feat, but you take training seriously, always in competition with yourselves, not others; being focused on self growth is one of your unspoken passions; you take interest in anything and everything that presents benefits to being a better undercover agent

- the final round is a battle between the grumpy British and the jesting Scott; it’s a close score, but Ghost comes out victorious; your heart flutters as he turns to you making eye contact; brown eyes scan your face for any sign of emotion; but you don’t play his game; you turn around without another word or reaction, on your way to getting back to your work;

- unbeknownst to you, Ghost watches your departing figure like a hawk, action which the rest of his teammates take notice of; ‘Dowie ye coudnae impress th' bonny lassie, Lt.?’ the Scott chuckles at his own words; Price has to intervene before Ghost can reduce the numbers of members the 141 has

- your preparations include finding an outfit that’ll catch the attention of that lewd middle aged fucker; and there is no person more suitable for that than Soap; you ask the captain to lend you Soap and a car to take to the town next over where you know you’ll find a dress shop; he agrees without qualms, knowing it isn’t a joyride but an important errand for the mission; he doesn’t have to know that the two of you had fun, caving ang giving in to gossip like school girls; you talked about anything and everything; Soap is awfully curious about your work, asking you to describe methods and procedures; you indulge him with the promise that he’ll help you pick a dress and shoes; he can’t say no as he gets too ogle at you trying on different dresses that hug your form perfectly and expose all the right parts of you, attracting the attention there;

- ‘Bein’ an undercover agent is similar to being an actor or actress. The only difference is that you might get killed or worse if you forget your lines.’ You synthesize trying on a fitted red dress that shows just enough cleavage and is long enough that you don’t have to worry that your behind will get exposed with wrong move; you and Soap decide that this one is the perfect one, paired with black stilettos; with a bit of makeup and a blow out you’ll look better than most models, as per Soap’s opinion; you agree without a smidge of modesty

- everything in place by the time you have to roll out and begin the mission

- you book a room at hotel that’s close enough to the club your target like to frequent; the plan is simple, seduce him and bring him to the room where the TF 141 will be waiting, ready for some not so pleasant information extraction

- everything goes smoothly; you manage to catch his attention the moment you walk up to the bar passed the VIP lounge area; he flies like a moth to the flame ignorant of his own demise; with his capture your fist phase of the mission is done; now comes the harder part

- you teach Soap how to be an undercover agent; he’s quite good at it, just as you anticipated it; you teach him all the important stuff and go over so many scenarios that he must be prepared to face; you teach him how to cover his tattoo seamlessly, with waterproof foundation; all goes smoothly

- ‘You’ll let me do the talking, as I’ll play your employer. Remember, you’re my bodyguard. If I die you won’t get paid. It’s ok to show concern for my safety but don’t make it emotional. You can’t be attached to me in there. You don’t know me like that in character. Rule goes if I’m dead or captured you save yourself, no questions asked. You can figure later wat to do, once you’re safe. You don’t panic, no matter what. Keep it cool, it makes it easier to find on the spot decisions. Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it has to be credible. Ignore any comments and insults, but never back down from a confrontation. Shew ‘em you’re strong, dangerous if needed, ready to fight if necessary. But don’t provoke. Confrontations mean unnecessary risks. We need those. And if the situation goes to shite we pull out. Mission can get fucked; our lives matter more. Understood?’

- ‘Yes ma’am.’ And with that the undercover boot camp is over; ‘Get as much rest as possible. Out there you’ll be on high alert every moment. It’s not the same as on the battlefield where you worry about where the enemy is shooting. Here you must fool the enemy, get them to trust you, to accept you as one of them. You’ll have to worry about your words and gesture. The smallest flinch can trigger a chain of events that’ll get you killed.’

- ‘Got it. No flinchin’’he ads in jest; you know he’s smart enough to understand the dangers and not take anything lightly; but this is his way to cope with the stress; you allow it

- you establish your identities; you are the chemistry student that cracked under the pressure of debt, and took to the streets to cook; you’ve got experience and you can prove it; your notoriety already out on the streets through well placed rumours

- he’s your back up; freshly out prison, you’ve got inmates wrapped around your little finger ready to attest to that; he did time for arms deal and an armed bank robbery that ended with an IED explosion; he knows how to build them how to make them work; he’s a professional; learned from his grampa who served in the IIWW; he’s your bodyguard; his job is to keep you safe, no matter what; his nickname: Scotty, for obvious reasons

- the plan is sound now let’s see the execution; you get approached by one of the cartel lieutenants one day in broad daylight; he proposes to you a meet-up with the boss where you can prove you’ve got skills; you accept on the condition that your bodyguard stays at your side through it all; he accepts; the day comes where you two are picked up and taken to your audience with boss; he asks you live proof and you cook for him, fast, efficient and professionally; you obtain fentanyl with a purity of 98%; highest there is; he’s impressed; but he asks Scotty to step outside with his own bodyguards and let you finish the details of the deal; a matter of security, he’d argument; the fewer that know the better

- you agree and give Soap the order to go and wait for you outside office; he’s hesitant but obeys; good boy you mentally praise him

- but once your left alone the real test begins; he grabs your hand and pulls you flat against the desk, a gun to your head; you’ve been in this situation before so you don’t lose your cool, but on the outside you play the scared woman cornered by her would be killer; you know Ghost watches through the scope from the next building’s rooftop eager to drop him at your sign; Price and Gaz are on the roof waiting for a sign to breach through the windows; but the goal isn’t killing him; the goal is using him to catch a bigger fish; so you play your part begging and swearing up and down you’re not an infiltrator; Soap can hear your distress through the door but he doesn’t do more than threat the guards; ‘If mah client dies ye'r a' deid. Git it?' they share a look and nod in apprehension; he stays put

- ‘It’s all a show, Soap. If you don’t hear the catch phrase then you needn’t worry about me. I can handle my fare share of assholes.’ He trusts you know what you’re doing

- crying you get the drug lord to believe you; you show weakness and he soaks in it; men are easy to manipulate once they think they’re in control; he lets go you run out the door and get Scotty to get you out of there; once in your hotel room you both exhale in relief; you did good work an it worked seamlessly;

- phase three consists on working for the drug lord, getting him to open up to you; it allows you to point out Scotty’s skill; he considers it and then takes the bait making him his assistant in the arms deal related problems; Scotty gives good advice; he gains more trust; and with that comes the biggest opportunity: getting access to their computers; he instals a remote backdoor and boom: Laswell has know access to everything; she finds the location, date and time of the RV where the next deal will be negotiated with the head of the terrorist cell; everything works like a well oiled machine; this triggers the final phase

- phase four, affectionately called The Take Down begins immediately; Laswell sends Price back up, highly trained marines; they strike at right moment; you and Soap are present for the whole ordeal; it’s a bloodbath really; both the cartel and the terror cell gets annihilated; you get out without a single scrape; you laugh once more as lucks favours you again

- after the mission you all spend the evening at the bar; Laswell joins you in spirit being stuck over the pond at the CIA HQ, debriefing a plethora of generals and other higher ups of your success; you on the other hand relax over a few drinks; nothing too wild; just a quick celebration to let your hair down

- you step outside for a smoke; Ghost joins you; you sit in silence until you voice the question that has plagued your mind for months now; ‘What did ya mean by that?’ he stays silent, fretting, searching for the right words

- ‘Ya saved me arse.’ He settles on the crude phrasing; you’re confused; ‘Care to remind me how?’ more silence; he sighs; ‘Ya dragged me outta that facility. With y’r pretty little handsies and body half me size. Ya made quite the impression on me.’

- realisation hits you as you make eye contact; brown orbs stare into yours filled with admiration and something more; something you can’t quite put your finger on; you blush and look away; fuck

- you stay silent; but then you make a mindless admission: ‘I made the right decision that day.’ ‘That, ya did, love.’

- the following day you make another decision; instead of going back to HQ, you ask Price for a private meeting; he agrees believing you want to request escort back; you don’t; you tell him you made your mind; ‘Y’r mind about what, agent?’ without a beat you voice your choice: ‘I wanna stay, indefinitely.’ He eyes you up and down not really believing his ears; any person in their right-mind would take that golden ticket and get as far from the front lines; but you’re not; you’re bonkers; the sergeants were right; but he can’t stop you; that golden ticket guarantees you an open seat in any branch

-  he doesn’t admit but he’s pleased with your choice to join his task force; you’re one of the best and he’s got an eye out for those, like a collector; he’s only a bit worried about your bond with Ghost; he hopes it won’t end up in disaster; but he trusts your professionalism and moral code to do what’s best for the world above all

Previous part here.

Next part here.

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part IV

warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part

P.S. I loved Frenchie from The Boys and I just couldn’t help myself. Apologies 😊

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the fourth time you meet it’s no longer up to chance but up to your discretion

- the last mission scored you one of the most prized rewards in your field: a golden ticket; basically you get permission to retire from your field an choose another with less risk and a larger pay check, a “thank you gift card” from the director of the MI6, the King and England herself; it’s a type of mobility many dream of, having checked off the bucket list almost dying in al sorts of crazy situations and the young adventurous attitude toward danger having morphed into a veteran hesitant mentality; you are given plenty of time to decide where you want to go       

- a month later you hear rumours of a task force newly formed, one-four-one they’d call it; cheesy you think not really giving anymore attention; and then the briefing about some partnership between under cover specialised agents and this mystery task force for a top tier mission; you think about it, you haven’t had any action in three months now and anymore desk work will drive you up a wall if it continues; you skim over the file on the task force with disinterest, mostly because task forces like these were made up of brutes, eager to pick fights with the enemy and partially because most of the words had been redacted; a few are left out in the open among the sea of black ink: task force, covert mission, high-performance, low collateral casualties, you hum in thought

- what makes you not only volunteer with a manic grin, but actually consider having found the place for your relocation; under the captain’s name John Price, follow three more names; the last two are unknown to you and unimportant, two Sergeants, one John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, and another Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick; but the one is impossible to mistake: Lt. Ghost; no first name, no last name; the only person whose file you ever read to bear that name.

- your application for the mission gets accepted almost instantly your reputation proceeding you almost any briefing room now; you’re informed that you’ll depart within the hour and other things you need to know about it; nothing really matters as you know you’ll get the chance to confront that knobhead that has plagued all your waking hours and some dreams with his obscure choice of words as you departed;

- you’re ready in 30, not really owning much and usually being moved from HQ to HQ, or base, or house within small time frames, which doesn’t allow for many personal things anyway; you wait in the shade, dragging from a cigarette, to pass the time, until the heli lands on the heli-pad; you don’t get to wait much, the pilot is here a little early; good; you don’t like to wait

- the flight is short the base not, far from the MI6 HQ; you pass the time reading a book you took, some title that caught your attention at the library across the street of where you usually buy cigarettes; the story doesn’t raise to your expectations, the writing style is mediocre and the characters have as much depth as a glass of water; you contemplate throwing it out the window, but refrain when the pilot announces ETA: less than 5; you hum heart beating a little quicker at the excitement you feel for finally being able to decipher the meaning behind those blood words

- as soon as the heli touches down on tarmac you’re out the door, no words of goodbye to the pilot; he’s used to it’

- the welcoming committee consists of the two Sergeants, now finally connecting faces to the names you read on the files; they’re casual in your attitude towards you which is a little invigorating, but they wouldn’t drop the “ma’am”; they’ll get over it; you’re probably a little older than them

- John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is chatty Scott, who’s a little to nosy for your liking, but within reasonable limits; you’re not sure if is actually trying to charm the pants off of you or that’s just how he is usually, throwing compliments left and right, but those have no effect on you and slide right off without much care; he sports an unusual haircut for some of the strictest branches of army that’s ever existed, SAS you see the patch on his shoulder, and a wacky tattoo representing the Task Force 141 insignia on his huge forearm

- Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is almost opposite to “Soap”, he’s more laid back, observing more than talking, making small comments when the Scott’s cascade off words gets interrupted, chuckling at his comrade poor attempts at complimenting you; he’s not as well built as Soap, but he stands a couple inches taller than you

- ‘He’s always like that?’ you direct your attention to “Gaz” as the two of them walk in front of you like two loyal guard dogs

- ‘Yes ma’am, though he get’s easier to ignore with time.’ You both chuckle, a huge disservice to the Scott that protests ‘Oi’ followed by a 'What's that suppose tae mean?' in the thickest Scottish accent you’ve had the chance to hear

- ‘You’re bothersome, bruv.’ Soap hits Gaz’s shoulder in brotherly fashion and the playful banter begins; you tune them up, and think about finally getting to change out of your civilian clothes and into something blacker, more unflattering and less eye catching than the light blue skinny jeans that have managed to flare out more than one whistle as you passed; arseholes and jar-heads come to the forefront of your mind

- you’re led first to your room and left there with the promise that one of them, most likely Soap, cause he already volunteered to do it, will come collect you for the briefing before supper

- you’re left alone to install, unpack, get changed and unwind from the irksome travel and the fact that you are being watched like deer in the headlights, fresh faces always attract the interest of the crowd in places like this

- the walk towards the briefing room is short but Soap manages to pour so many words in that interval that you’re almost sure he’s going to run out; once inside Soap’s chatter dies down and you make eye contact with the captain

- John Price gives off the energy of a strong father figure, his facial hair adding to his age; he not much older than you but the stress of leadership is visible on his face, eyes winged with crow’s feet; he gives a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod as you and the sergeant enter; he waits for Gaz to join you before he begins the briefing

-   as for the hulking beast of a man, clad in black, brown eyes surrounded by black army issued face paint and hidden behind that grotesque mask of his, oh no, you haven’t miss him, just ignored him; you felt his gaze burning your skin, searching for eye contact, which you vehemently denied; suffer just like I did, bloke

- Gaz comes in and is witness to the unthinkable; you the new face, pretty one might say without lying, so much different from these hardened man, more in common with the civvies than them, go and sit right next to Ghost, no space left in between the two of you; and what’s even crazier, you don’t acknowledge him; Soap and Gaz share a look; the captain seems amused by your actions and the sergeants confusion; no one, absolutely no-fucking-body ever sat next to Ghost, willingly and without starring dumbly and frightened at him; no one, never

- you take your seat, and place your notebook and pen neatly in front of you, facing the whiteboard as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; the two chaps sit down slowly, eyes trained on you half expecting you to realize your mistake and jump out of the chair; but you surprise them once again when you finally decide to meet the glare directed at you head on and to crack a smirk at the lieutenant

- their minds are blown, mouth open in disbelief, they glance at one another; their minds are set, you get labelled as the agent who clearly lost their mind somewhere in some gone wrong mission; they’ll bombard you with questions later

- as for Ghost, he’s as still as puma waiting to spring to attack; if looks could kill, you’d be disintegrated to the last atom; you’re as unbothered as a new born foal, unaware of its impending doom

- Price clears his voice, catching your attention and diminishing the tension that clouds around the semicircle table

- he makes an introduction for you, stating the reason you’re here, and what you’re specialized in: undercover espionage; you give a nod to all the men

- on a laptop in the furthermost side of the table a connection is established and a blonde American woman greets you; she’s CIA, their handler and yours for the upcoming mission; you have no qualms to work with the other most prominent intelligence agency, the one from over the pond, as long as you get to do your job as you know best; you feel the respect the men have for her and the fondness in the captain’s eyes once they greet each other; they’re old friends, that much you can tell   

- you decide you’ll respect Kate Laswell and trust her, as much as one can trust when one builds their carrier on lying to others and distrusting everyone; she’s pleasant so far, familiar with the men, and cuts straight to the chase just how you like it

- the target is one drug overlord who decided to take things up a notch and deal in arms with terrorists; the goal: disrupt the block-chain and cut the heads off the snakes; simple enough nothing that you haven’t tackled before

- you’re given green light to propose how to approach and infiltrate this business; you explain that you have to get quite high in their hierarchy if you want a shot at real damage; you skim over the information available on his deals: fentanyl, the most recent drug that’s flooded the streets; you know how to “cook” it from a previous cartel you took down; you’ll enter as just that “a cooker”, but you’ll also need a bodyguard to make yourself seem more important, but more on that later; you point out the name of the current one, the first target

- if you manage to get that person out of the game, you’ll have a chance to fill that spot, maybe the most important chain link in the whole operation

- you already have in mind the persona you’ll assume, a chemistry drop-out that took to cooking drugs; you know that your skills far surpass the target’s and you know how to cook a purer form of fentanyl; as for your bodyguards’: a crook; fresh out of prison on the lookout for work that pays well; one with knowledge of guns and explosives, surely to pique the terrorist cell’s interest in their skill

- Soap offers for the role, impressed so far with your knowledge and method of operating; you’re through, and he’d like to learn more on infiltration; you agree hearing he’s got what it takes to be convincing enough

- Laswell, Price and Gaz all hum in agreement at your plan waiting to hear their part in it; simple: Laswell can help with credentials and all the raw materials you’ll need to pull this off; Gaz, the captain and Ghost will be your back up, providing fire power

- the first target is easy to take down: he’s a middle-aged creep, who likes pretty young women and heavy drinks, parties like he’s twenty not fifty something; they already have info on his preferred hotspots; you’ll go in lure him out for the men to bag him and make him disappear

- everyone agrees so far adding small details here and there; it’s only your first few hours or so and every single one understands why you’re held in so high regard; it’s all warranted

- Ghost is the only one who hasn’t said anything, allowing you to direct the briefing, already know you’re more than capable and have far more experience with such delicate planning

- once everything is settled you start planning out the preparations you’ll need to make beforehand; Soap will train under your supervision; you point out he already looks the part, a delinquent; the comment lacks any trace of ill intent, but everyone can’t help but chuckle at his huff of indignation followed by ‘ ’M not’; you sweeten the deal praising his charming nature and easy-going attitude; he smiles at that but it’s short lived by your next comment

- ‘You'll do fine as long as you let me do the talking. I doubt you calling anyone 'bonnie lass' will get you very far.’ That gets everyone to let out a chuckle, everyone knowing Soaps anticks; even Ghost lets out a grunt reminiscent of a laugh; the bruised ego Scott follows up with a ‘Pish off’ that’s met with laughter from you; you let the insult roll off in good humour

- the briefing ends, Laswell disconnects, and the rest of you stand up to make your way to the mess hall in time for dinner; Price holds you back, and you obey; you talk a little, mostly him, praises fly at you, for good planning, attention to details and overall how well you managed to fit in with them in such a short time; you thank him, having heard this all the time; you try, really hard, to be pliant and easy to work with; no need to be a hard-ass; you’re all on the same side

- he agrees with your well-spoken point of view; but he can’t help but ask what’s the deal with you and Ghost

- ‘Worked together before. We get along well.’ Your answer seems to put at ease some of his worries about the teams chemistry; with that out of the way he leads you to the mess hall where he gets you to sit with them at the table; you can feel everyone else’s eyes on you as the new face of the 141’s; but you ignore them chatting with “your” team; you kind of like the sound of that; you can quite imagine working along side them for the rest of your carrier, however short, as you know the death rates among undercover agents grow the further they go; very few get to retire in one piece, actually you can count them on one hand, at least the ones they tell you about at the academy

Previous part here.

Next part here.

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part III

warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, smooth Ghost

P.S. I loved Frenchie from The Boys and I just couldn’t help myself. Apologies 😊

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the third time you meet is in the small briefing room, you sit next to one another, in silence, eyes forward waiting for your MI6 handler begin his presentation

- the plan is similar but this time you’ll have a gun on you, that thought brings a little more than a smidge of comfort; when you make contact with the supplier and confirm that the merchandise is legit you give the sign: three nods, as natural as possible; at that alpha team and bravo team will breach

- you stand up for everyone to see what you’re wearing, cream coloured jacket and light blue jeans, you picked it yourself and you explain that you’ll be more visible to them among the black clothed guards

- when contact is made your job is to get out of dodge, because everyone expects a fight and you aren’t dressed in protective gear to survive being caught in the middle; you’ll make yourself scarce thus not even giving the impression of association with the black ops teams; just a coward that runs away at the first signs of a fight desperately trying to save their skin; this will save the work you’ve done in creating this fake persona for later use

- the hours before the mission gives you a déja-vu feeling: you read, he listens to rock music; you raise your head from the notebook and motion for him to take of the headphones; he obliges

- ‘Why rock?’ you seek the useless information, not from curiosity but a weird need of talking to him

- ‘Pumps me up…’ that’s what you expected of him, you know heavy metal is used in boot camp training to simulate the chaos of battle, when hearing is no longer a dependable sense and one must rely on his vision, gut feelings and training; it’s something he’s familiar with you conclude

- you ask permission to listen for a bit and he allows it, handing you the headphones; you place them on your head and listen to the disharmonic sounds emanated straight into your eardrums; you close your eyes and bob your head to the rhythm getting lost in the screams of the vocalist

- a hand firm on your bicep startles you; Ghost is tilting his head towards the door; you turn and see a general; in a swift move you are up, headphones thrown on the couch where you just sat; you don’t salute as you are not part of the army but you are straight as a plank in utmost respect to the new comer

- the general to you about your achievements so far and that keeping up with the work we’ll get you very far very quickly in the hierarchical structure; you reply that you like your work and wouldn’t give it up for a boring desk job; he chuckles and with a ‘Have it your way, agent’ he turns and leaves you two to your pre-mission coping mechanisms         

- Ghost smirks even more ‘A woman of action this one’ he comments, you turn eyes glinting in mischief, smirk unknowingly mirroring his ‘Bloody right’ your answer is met with a small chuckle

- ‘Would murder for a cuppa…’ you utter with a sigh

- ‘Understood’ he disappears out the door without missing a bit and you are left smiling to yourself like little schoolgirl

- in the car, you go over the plan one more time, you check the gun and the two magazine Ghost gives you; the Glock feels comfortable in your hand but its weight does little to ease your mind; you’ll be alone, surrounded by tangos, and now there is a new variable: the supplier and his men; they might open fire at the slightest misinterpretation of words, or worse, they might try to cross you over an try to kill your party and get away with the money

- everything is accounted for as much as not knowing the rendezvous location allows

- he makes sure to reassure you insisting on his position in relation to yours, in your made-up chess board scenario ‘I’ll look for yer’ you nod

- everything you’ve been through repeats like clockwork, this time the drive is longer; your gun is taken from you, and you feel your legs numbing from disuse where you sit on the hard van floor

- at your destination you get shoved around and put in the back seat of a limo; in front of you the buyer; you ask for your gun, motivating you won’t go win ‘without proppa protection this time ‘round’; he promises to give it to you when you get there

- he asks about you and your motivations behind switching sides; you tell him the fabricated story, how you got fucked twice, once by your commander and once by the government, when they threw you out without any means of survival while your commander got a pat on the shoulder and a laugh at another ‘young score’

- he understands a tells you a little bit by his motivations; you’ve heard this kind of talk and your sick of it, but you empathize with his hate for the British Government; he discloses to you that soon he’ll hit them hard, and all thanks to you, like being in league with him is something to be proud of; human filth

- after a short ride you get there, wherever that is, you don’t care; it’s just another job; your handgun is returned to you ‘a sign of good faith’ and you check that not even a single bullet is missing not as inclined to trust

- you are led to another warehouse this one filled with crates and random things strewn around; you are met with a gang of thugs, definitely not trained to properly hold a gun, or fight for that matter; you regard them with the superiority of an expert in guns and explosives, which is not an idle affirmation; you do in fact know what you’re doing not just faking it; the only thing that’s fake is the story behind it, the skill is there

- the supplier introduces himself as ‘Frenchie’ his French accent quite obvious; you request to se the merchandise; he comments to his thugs about the lack of manners in the British Isle; you stare him down unphased; he laughs;

- the buyer backs you up, voice demanding, reasoning along the lines of ‘pressing matter’ and ‘time sensitive issues’; Frenchie takes you to the back where crates full of C4 and more professional equipment, far superior than what you had to work with; everyone awaits your verdict in silence; you approach the crates to take a better look, and scrutinizing everything, though there is no need

- this is the real deal, military grade equipment, syphoned from somewhere where command is lax or corrupt; everything is brand new, though there is no flag, no insignia to indicate their origin

- you prepare yourself for the incoming breach; the signal this time a loud whistle of appreciation followed by a ‘got some hell of a gear ‘ere, huh?!’; Frenchie does not get the chance to brag about it as windows shutter, tear gas canisters fizzle, doors burst, shouts are heard, bullets start flying

- you duck and move to the side away from the crowd of thugs that try to return fire in vain as they fall like flies in a cacophony of screams and shouts of pain and terror

- you find the nearest door and burst out coughing having inhaled the bloody tear gas yourself; devilish contraptions you hated with a passion from your days in the academy when you first had tasted it; but as you struggle to regain your breath and get as far away without seeing where you are going a shadow follows close to you

- as your breath settles to a more manageable pace you hear a gun click and you slowly raise your hands in surrender; you turn around slowly as per the buyer’s demands; he clicks his tongue and wonders what a coincidence that black ops bust the deal right after you confirm the merchandise to be legitimate; you don’t deny it and he takes a step closer putting the gun to your head; but he takes to long to shoot you feeling more preoccupied with the villain discourse

- a gun shot is heard and he drops dead; wide eyed you watch as Ghost struts to you rifle shouldered in a professional manner and his figure the epitome of a perfect stance; he gives you a look over checking for any stray bullets you might have caught in your hasty exit

- and with a nonchalance at corpse that paints red the asphalt at your feet he calls in the kill over the radio

- the rest is a flash, you get checked by a combat medic for any signs of wounds, he dismisses you when he finds none, and your escorted away from the scene and to a black SUV to take you away to HQ now that your job on the field is done

- Ghost finds you again right as you climb in the back; he holds the door with one hand and the other is casually placed on the hood right above your head as he leans his tall frame to talk to you; but you beat him to it and a quick and sincere ‘Thank you’ escapes your lips

- ‘We even then, love’ he says quickly slamming the door shut; the first thing that catches your attention is the pet-name he used that makes the tip of your ears feel hot; and then his words hit you; you’re confused and a ‘What did ‘e mean by that’ escapes your mouth without volition

- ‘Huh’ the driver turns to you ‘You ok ma’am?’ he asks in mild concern; you didn’t even notice him, a young pale blond blue-eyed private regards you in confusion; your meagre answer comes in the form of ‘Yeah…, peachy. Just drive.’ A far away look takes over your face ‘Yes. Ma’am’

- you smile in thought; you’ll have to seek him out to ask for clarification; smooth bastard.

Previous part here.

Next part here.

Echoes of Salvation: Negotiations (Part II). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader

Part I

Warnings: none, really, just some casual fluff and domestic stuff, maybe some grammar error and misspellings.

Enjoy!

The story starts after the dash.

-

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.           

-

Once you get back inside you notice the little girl fast asleep on the couch a peaceful look on her face. Bellamy keeps closely to your side not letting you move without following. The masked brute stands a few paces away at the other end of the sofa, his eyes carefully scanning over his sleeping daughter. Once satisfied that she is comfortable he turns to you and gestures towards the kitchen and for you to follow him. You wait a few seconds and keep a healthy distance once you start following him. Once inside he points at the door and you shut it. You look around searching for a safe place for you to sit now that you’re trapped in here with him. You decide to sit on one of the chairs the one with your back to the wall. Bellamy lays at your feet eyes glued to him.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, studies your face for a while. You try to appear nonchalant at his cold fixating glare, but your hair stands up, goose bumps forming on your skin. He clears his throat ‘I have a few more questions for you’ he says voice just as gruffy as before. ‘Like wise’ you quip from your seated position.

'Have you had run-ins with the infected?'

‘I haven't seen any for the past few months. and even before that they are rare and far in between. And to my knowledge there isn't any other person alive around this area.’ You answer as truthfully as you can.

'You're pretty isolated out here. No neighbours within a decent radius?'

‘Only the Johnsons, Neil and Margaret, they used to live about a half a mile down the lake bank. They were a retired couple.’ You reply a little sad.

'Used to?' he asks intrigued.

'Yeah. They died soon after the infection started spreading' you shudder, the image of Neil coming back to you in full force.

'How did they die?' his head lens to the side as if to take a better look at you.

‘I found Margaret dead in their garage throat ripped out. I'm guessing that Neil got infected when he went to the market in the nearby town. When he got home, he must have turned and killed his wife.’ You fumble with your hands picking at your nails and avoiding his sharp gaze.

'What about the husband? What happened to him?'

You dreaded this question. You take a deep breath to steady your quick heart and face downward in shame. 'I Killed him...' you say after some consideration. 'He attacked me and Bellamy and.... I had to...' you mumble your words not wanting to remember anymore of that terrible day.

He watches you intently, there's no sign of surprise on his face. 'You did what you had to do. There's no need to look shameful.' He seems understanding, but something about his look causes a chill to run down your spine. 'How did you do it?' He adds softly.

'The hatchet. I was out cutting wood for the stove.' you keep mumbling, a distant look on your face as you focus your eyes on spot on the table cloth.

'I see.' He says without any kind of judgment in his tone. You find it hard to look at him at this moment. 'You didn't hesitate.' He adds.

'I did. I acted out in fear more than anything.' you say lowly rubbing the back of your neck trying to rid yourself from the cold sweat taking over you.

He continues to observe you calmly, as if trying to understand you on a more fundamental level.

His expression changes slightly, becoming softer, less intimidating. 'Was it hard? Taking a life?'

'Yes.' You say looking straight into his eyes tone genuine. 'But I'll do it again if I have to.' you admit to him hinting that you are not as weak as he thinks you to be. You did manage to survive all this time alone and it wasn't all luck. You worked hard to build and improve the defence around your house and make it sustainable for a long period.

He notices your determination, and for a brief moment, he seems to respect it. 'I believe that you would, I’m counting on it' he says, voice still low. 'How did you survive on your own for so long?' he changes the subject having made his opinion of you on that matter.

'I learned how to farm. When I first move here six and a half years ago, I bought books on how grow vegetables and some medicinal herbs. Margaret was kind enough to show me how to grow chickens, I have a few in a coup behind the house' you motion with your head in that direction. 'In the back, there is a small plot of land with an orchard. Apples and cherries. I also invested in solar panels. I still have electricity and running water. Though on cloudy days the batteries half charge. I have to keep an eye on consumption.

He nods slowly, taking in the information you have shared with him. He seems to be taking mental notes of your capabilities as a homesteader. He speaks again, ’What did do before shit hit the fan?'

‘I am a licensed architect so it was easy to design everything around here, the doing was the harder part' you say proud of what you managed to achieve.

'An architect', he repeats in a low, amused voice, 'and you chose to live in the middle of nowhere?'

He pauses. 'What made you come this far out?'

'I wanted peace and a quiet place surrounded by nature. Cities were to crowded for my liking. I never felt at home there. But here' you look around you, 'here is perfect.'

You hear him let out a breath, seemingly agreeing with your statement and your choice of location.

He studies you for a few seconds, then says, 'You don’t have anyone else? Family? Parents?'

'No.' the answer is short and a far away look takes over you. that is a story from another time. 'Where did you come from?' you turn the attention on him rather than giving anymore information about yourself.

He hesitates for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should share anything about himself.

'I'm ex-military.' comes the final answer, spoken in his usual blunt manner.

'That much I figured' you nod towards his uniform. 'Is she your daughter?'

He nods without saying anything further. There's a strange tension coming from his body language. He seems to be on high alert. He clears his throat as if he needs a change of subject. 'You said you are an architect?' you raise an eyebrow at that 'Yes, why?'

'Are you any good?' He presses, not beating around the bush and being direct with his question.

'Um... as good as they come, I guess!?' you tell him not trying to appear humble.

'So, what is your specialty? Residential? Commercial? Industrial?' he asks very specific.

'Residencial, but I do have some knowledge of the rest. Why do you ask? You try to understand were the sudden interest in your carrier choices come from.

'Just curious.' He says casually, but something in his eyes suggests that he's interested in finding out more. 'And that cottage you're living in.' he points at your house. 'You designed it?'

'Yes' you say eying him suspiciously. His questions were awfully precise. But once again he changes the direction of your conversation wanting to know more about your house. He asks you about the house, the structure and the layout, how you keep warm, where do you get wood for the fireplace.

'You're pretty self-sufficient.’ He concludes.  ‘How often do you have to go out for supplies?' his question catches you by surprise. Ever since you saw the news about the outbreak you haven’t ventured anywhere close to civilization, afraid that you’d encounter infected and be ripped apart.  

'I haven't really left the property in the past year. The further I go is the lake for fishing. Most of what I own comes from the time when things were delivered to your door or post office. I used to buy items in bulk.' you shrug, it made more sense to you that way. ‘There was no reason for me to leave. Plus, there is a lot of work to do around here, animals to feed. Which reminds me of something…’ you say fixing him with a hard stare mirroring his own. He waits for you to continue.

'You'll have to pull your weight around here. Food and accommodation are not for free.' You set clear boundaries. You may be kind enough to let them stay, considering the threats he’d flung your way earlier, but you won’t be taking advantage of.

He sighs almost offended by what you said, ' I don't plan on freeloading.' He assures you. 'Good' you intend to hold him to his words. He grunts in acknowledgement before going on to speak, 'I hunt regularly, and I know my way around a gun. I'm capable of offering protection.' He says in a serious tone, almost like a pledge. His military training is showing.

'There is not much fighting to do around here, but I'll keep in mind.' you say with a chuckle. It'll be fun seeing him do household chores. You wonder if he'll keep the mask on while feeding the chickens or picking apples.

'I do have one last question.' He says, suddenly sounding more unsure of how to phrase it. You nod at him to go one whipping the smirk on your face and

'If our partnership is to work…’ he pauses seriousness taking over him like a heavy veil, ‘you will have to abide to my one rule.' You sit up a little straighter, your attention fully on him.

'My girl comes first. In a survival situation, every decision I make will rely on her safety. No negotiation.'

You nod your head in agreement. 'Got it. I'll try my best not to get in your way.' You promise tone filled with sincerity.

'Good.' That seems to conclude the interrogation. He seems to relax a bit, and his demeanour is less hostile than before. He rises to his feet and turns to walk to where his daughter lies on the sofa. You watch as he drops his gun and knife on the table and sits on the armchair guarding the sleeping girl.

You let them settle in while you busy yourself with chores. you go out to feed the livestock you keep, collect any fresh eggs, and tend to your garden. The sky begins to darken, wind picks up. you can faintly hear thunder cracks in the distance. It's going to rain tonight, you muse to yourself. You quickly finish your work outside making your way inside. Once in your living room you notice the absence of masked stranger. He is nowhere in the house. You put down the basket you filled with fresh vegetables on the kitchen table and approach the sofa. The little girl stirs awake and looks curiously at you.

'How are you feeling, darling?' you ask in a warm tone smiling gently at her. The little girl rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them. She then looks up at you once again with her adorable big eyes. ‘A bit tired’ she says before yawning.

'It's understandable, you went through a lot out there. What happened to you?' you ask pointing at her bandaged arm The little girl looks at you for a moment as if thinking what to tell you. 'I got hurt by a bad guy's dog...It bit me.' She tries to sound brave but you hear the quiver in her voice.

'Oh... that's awful. Would you let me take a look at it?' you say softly siting down on the couch next to her. ‘Yeah…’ she nods. She holds out her arm for you to take a look at.

On her arm, you can see the puncture marks. They don't look like a human bite mark and that makes you sigh in relief. They were telling the truth. But what worries you is the yellowish liquid oozing out of it. That and the fever indicate that the wound got infected. 'How long ago did that dog bite you?'

‘About three days ago...’ She says quietly. ‘...It hurts now more than before.’ her soft, innocent eyes are filled with concern, fear and worry. ‘...I feel hot...’ she added. 'Let's clean it and rebandage it, okay?'

'Okay' she says with a small, relieved smile. You fetch a med-kit and some disinfectant and begin to clean the wound. It's a bit irritated from the infection. She seems to be in good spirits despite the pain.

You try to comfort her by keeping her mind occupied with conversation while treating her wound.

'How old are you?' you ask her as you wipe her arm with some alcohol blowing a little over it to ease the burn. 'Nine!' she answers earnestly with a toothy smile as she looks up at you, still enduring the sting of the disinfectant. 'What's your name?' you ask remembering that you haven’t been properly introduced so far. 'Olivia' she says with a soft, cute smile. 'What's your name?'

You tell her. 'I haven't met anyone else with that name before' she says pensively. 'Well, we don't really meet many people anyway. Just infected.' she says with a sad sigh. 'Yeah, me either.'

You finish treating her wound and re-bandage it. A shiver runs through her little body causing her to tremble. ‘Are you cold?’ you ask, reaching your palm to her forehead. She is indeed a little feverish. ‘...A bit.’ She mumbles with a small shiver.

You stand up making your way toward a small closet where you keep some blankets. You pick a fluffy one and hand it to Olivia. 'Here you go, sweety'. She smiles brightly as she accepts the extra layer and buries herself in it. 'I'll go grab some firewood to get a fire started.' You announce heading for the door. Just as you reach for the door handle, the door opens and there stands the tall dark figure of the man, his hands full of firewood. 'Oh...' you say in surprise as you step aside making way for him to enter. Outside rain is pouring. He puts the wood in the fireplace and starts working on the fire. You close the door and watch in silence as he works. In no time a well-built fire heats the small house casting a warm glow from the fireplace. The shadows flicker on his face, the white mask adding a level of horror to the otherwise cozy scene.

‘Thanks,’ The little girl says softly to him, to which he only grunts in acknowledgement.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Bellamy lays on the kitchen floor quietly supervising the two strangers in your house through the open door. The dinner you had in mind this morning included fish but you were rudely interrupted, so you'll have to settle on chicken with a side of veggies. You work quietly and efficiently, casting a glance once every few minutes in the living room. You see Olivia tiredly saying something to the masked man and him leaning back, the chair reclined, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching you prepare dinner. Soon, everything is ready, and three plates of steaming food lay neatly on the kitchen table. You walk into the living room to invite your involuntary guests to dinner.

The tall man is sitting on the comfortable armchair, the little girl lays on the sofa next to him, propped up by the pillows. As you enter, they quiet down and stare at you. He slowly stands up, holding out a hand to the girl, but she swats at it and raises by herself with a huff. He says nothing and he follows you two the kitchen. For how big he is he his movements are fluid, calm and quiet. You can barely hear his footfalls.

The little girl sits next to her father and digs into her plate burning herself in the process. 'Take it easy, kid.' he gently admonishes her. It's a weird scene seeing him at the other end of your small table, still in full gear watching the two of you eat in silence. Earlier he was threatening to kill you, now he sits in your kitchen hands rested on his knees watching like a hawk and frozen like a statue. You cast a few glances at him wondering if he'll take the mask of to eat but he remains unmoving. Perhaps later when I’m not around you think to yourself.

You try subtly glancing at the masked man, now that you sit in awkward silence. The little girl eats hungrily, she seems to love the food. Her blue eyes are focused on her plate, but you notice that she also seems to sneak in a few glances at her father while she chews. They look at each other as if communicating solely with their eyes. Perhaps they could, after spending so much time together in situations that require keeping quiet and nonverbal communication. You’ve notice so far that he prefers gestures instead of words. Once she’s finished eating the girl turns to look at you 'Is there any dessert?' her question is followed by a small burp and a quiet laugh. Her father pumps his knee audibly into hers under the table and throws her a pointed look. ‘What?’ she feigns innocence. You chuckle at their antics watching them bicker.

'I have some cherry jam if you're interested.' you offer with a smile.

'A bit, please.' she replies. Olivia’s eyes are sparkling while her father looks as unimpressed as ever, while you prepare a few slices of homemade bread and spread jam on it. She sits closer to him whispering something in his ear. He bands down and you watch as he whispers back.

She seems to be a very attached child, and you wonder if that is a consequence of all the trauma she has gone through. His manners on the other hand seem a bit less harsh, slightly more relaxed, although his dark gaze still lingers on you as if his prepared for you to rush him or something.

After you finish eating you collect yours and Olivia's plates and dump them in the sink to wash them later. You then turn towards Olivia 'How about we get you out of those dirty clothes and give you a warm shower? you ask motioning upstairs were your bedroom and personal bathroom are. She looks at her father with a look of silent plea.

'Go on.' he says quietly with a nod. She gets up, excited to get a warm shower, the prospect of getting cleaned and changing clothes is too much for her to resist. Olivia runs up the stairs followed quickly by you, leaving the man alone to eat.

A few moments after you are out of sight, Simon takes off his balaclava and puts it on the chair where his daughter sat. he grabs the cutlery and just as he’s a bout to start cutting into the chicken he stops, feeling eyes on him. He casts his eyes at the door where your dog watches him curiously head tilted to the side and years pointed up. ‘What?’ he grunts in annoyance, and the dog gets up and leaves the room. With a sigh Simon starts eating, he can’t remember his last proper meal that didn’t involve expired cans of beans.

-   

Once in the bathroom, you turn on the shower and set the necessary water temperature before stepping out to wait for her. You go inside your bedroom searching for some clothes that will fit her better than what she has. Her soiled clothes go straight to the bin. They’ll need a proper wash for sure. You wait by the door for her to finish. You can hear her saying something to you through the cracked door.

'I don't remember the last time we had warm water' she says from behind the shower curtain. 'Were you on the road for a long time?' you inquire curious to know more about them, and now taking your chances with Olivia who is chattier than her father.

'Yeah...We've been on the move and camping for a while now in abandoned houses.' she replies as she turns off the shower and steps out. She is wrapped in the towel, her wet hair sticking to her forehead and with a shy, bashful look on her face to which you can't help but smile at.

'Come' you motion for her to go inside your bedroom 'let's get you dry.' She happily obliges and you both step into the bedroom.

You help her dry her hair and then you give her some privacy for her to change into the new clothes. By the time you are done, she is completely dry and wrapped in a cozy sweater and shorts. She looks really pretty now that she’s clean, her pixie cut framing her round face perfectly.

She smiles at you and then starts looking around the room. Your bed is made, covered in cream linen bedsheets, your bedside table is nicely decorated with some flowers from your garden, and your desk is neatly organized.

A few books and magazines laying at the corner of the desk that catch her attention. She walks closer looking at the covers curiously. You notice her looking at a particular magazine cover, it shows a woman holding some gardening tools and a child playing nearby.

'Do you like gardening?' you ask her.

She shrugs. 'I don't know', she answers sincerely. Right, if they were moving from place to place, they didn't have time for that. Probably didn’t have time for many other things. The realization dawns on you. Growing on the run in a world full of monsters must’ve been rough on her, not really being able to be a child, always on high alert.

'Maybe you can help me tomorrow in the garden if you feel better.' you offer kindly. 'That would be nice.' she replies earnestly, her warm smile lighting up her adorable face, making her look like a normal kid.

'Okay, for now, let's get you settled in the bedroom downstairs.'

'Alright… but can I ask you something?'' she looks up at you scuffling her feet, the wool socks you gave her sliding and pooling at her ankles. 'Sure thing.' You turn towards her and wait for her to voice her question. There's a brief pause in which she mulls over, seemingly struggling to form the right words.

Finally, she speaks, 'Why did you accept us in your house? She takes you by surprise. You pause, looking around, giving yourself time to think before you answer. 'It was the right thing to do. You needed help.' You say conviction in your tone.

She nods a little bit, still unsure. 'But you don't know us...you could have just closed the door on our faces. It happened before. People keep their things for themselves out there.' She arguments.

Your heart falls a little, your hopes in humanity crumbling. You knew people could be selfish at times, but now they really turned borderline savage and hysteric. 'People can be like that when they feel threatened.' you admit.

'But you aren't?' she follows up your statement with a question. You hesitate a bit, her eyes are focused solely on you, their innocence and naïveté are so endearing it somehow breaks your heart.

'I try not to be.' Your answer seems to have raised even more questions. She is curious to know more. 'Why? Why do you try not to be like the others?' she tilts her head as if trying to solve you like one does a riddle. 'I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me. I think people should be kind or at the very least not violent with one another.' Your philosophical reply is met with more confusion. '..So why did you let us in?' she asks earnestly. She doesn't understand why someone like you would extend a warm generosity to perfect strangers who have nothing to offer when the same kindness is so scarce.

'Well, your father did threaten me with a gun.' you give her a more appropriate answer, something she understands better: violence. She sighs. Her adorable little face drops as she realizes that her father's actions might have put you in danger. 'Oh.' She remembers your earlier encounter, her father's less-than-friendly approach to strangers seems nothing new to her. ‘Right…. He's protective, he has to be.' she promptly excuses his actions, her expression a little troubled but at the same time, she seems to understand. 'But he's not a bad person' she quickly adds.

'I didn't say he was.' you remind her. She nods her head a little, still thinking about it all.

She is very smart, it is evident that she is much more aware of her surroundings than the average kid her age, you wonder what she would grow up to be, and what kind of adult she would turn out to be in such a harsh world. You imagine she will be a spitting image of her father, cold and ruthless.

You gently lead her down the stairs and to the guest bedroom ending your conversation. Once you reach downstairs you notice that her father is missing yet again. 'He's probably outside smoking. He never does it when I'm around though. He says it's bad for the lungs. But I don't understand why he keeps doing it' she confesses. She sounds more like an adult than a child. She has probably matured fast due to the circumstances, but that doesn't change the fact that she is still so young.

She still needs guidance, she still needs help figuring things out. Even as she speaks of his flaws, she is quick to excuse him and defend him, she loves him and looks up to him so much. It's almost like she sees him as two different people, one good and one not-so-good. You wonder if that is just her way of trying to cope with his actions.

'It's a bad habit people tend to have when they are stressed' you tell her. You remember your college years going to bars with colleagues and smoking a few cigarettes from your friends. But you never bought a packet.

'Do you get stressed?' she asks you, seemingly trying to see if you are the same as her father.

You take a few seconds to think it over, but her innocent, naïve gaze is hard to lie to.

'I do.' you confess, '…Sometimes. But I do other things to relieve the stress.'

She looks at you curiously, you can tell that she is looking to you for advice on how to deal with stress or she’s just looking for options for her father. 'What kind of things?' she asks, her voice filled with childlike wonder and curiosity.

'Well, gardening is a good way. Bellamy likes to help.' at the mention of her name, your companion leaves her guarding post by the fireplace and approaches the two of you. Olivia hides a little behind you at the sight of the dog. 'Don't worry, she won't bite you, I promise. She's really friendly with people. Look...' You crouch next to her and stretch your palm towards her nose. Bellamy starts wagging her tail eager to be petted.

Olivia watches you cautiously, but then sees how Bellamy loves to be petted and she can't help herself from being curious. She cautiously puts her soft little hand forward, hesitantly touching Bellamy on the cheek. The dog allows it, and soon Olivia warms up to her and starts petting her.

She smiles at you as she does that, then she speaks. '...Does she like me?' she whispers loudly as if the dog might understand her. 'I think she does' you playfully match her tone.

Olivia smiles even more, petting Bellamy even more enthusiastically. 'What kind is she?' she asks, showing a bit more enthusiasm in her voice. 'She's a Border Collie. She is a dog meant to herd sheep and keep guard from other animals.' '…She must be very smart.' Olivia says as she continues petting her, her voice is full of curiosity and admiration as she says that. 'She is' you say with a tone of love for your sole companion. ‘Dad told me that the dog that bite me was German Hepard. A guard dog.’ She informs you the way children do to prove they are just as knowledgeable as adults. ‘Shepherd. German Shepherd.’ You correct her with a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said.’ She counters with an incredulous look on her face at you for not taking her seriously.  

Olivia slowly yawns her eyes hooded with exhaustion. 'Let's get you in bed' You guide her towards the bed pulling the covers and allowing her to get in. Once she settles comfortably you put the back of your hand on her forehead checking for any signs of increased temperature. to your relief, her fever went down a little. It means that the pills still have an effect even after all these years. 'Good night' you whisper to her as her eyes flutter closed. She nods, tired from the day's events, and slowly closes her eyes as the sleep starts to take over her. '..Good night..' she whispers to you with a sleepy voice before she falls asleep.

You quietly sneak out of the room, closing her door softly behind you. You can still hear her soft snoring coming from inside the room, and a little smile forms on your face. You know she feels safe with you, and that warms your heart a little. You then head towards the kitchen, Bellamy in tow, only to discover that there are freshly washed dishes on the drying rack. You hum to yourself in appreciation. He may be a hulking terrifying military man but he has manners. You chuckle at the thought, despite the cold and aloof vibe he gives off, he still manages to surprise you with small gestures like these. It's clear that no matter how rough he seems, he does have a softer side to him.

Bellamy follows you next, and the two of you make your way outside. The rain has stopped, but there is still no sign of the man. He seems to like to disappear like a ghost. you scan the area around your garden, which is now damp with the fresh rain. Further outside, from the fence to the outside world, the darkness envelops everything. The light from your house is not strong enough to penetrate outside your garden. You take a deep breath the air humid and refreshing. The clouds hide the stars, you wish the sky was clear so you could map out the constellations with your finger, a favourite pastime of yours during the summer nights when the air is too stuffy for you to fall asleep.

After a while, the gate opens, and the masked man walks in, rifle slung on his shoulder, strap gripped tightly in his hand. The white skull on his face is the only thing that reflects enough light for you to make it out. A shiver runs down your back at his frightening attire. No wonder other people turned them down. He looks more like a serial killer from a horror movie than a human being. As he comes towards you, you can't help but wonder out loud 'Why the mask?' you watch him as he approaches you.

He doesn't respond to your question. Instead, he looks you up and down, studying you for a moment before he speaks with a firm voice. '..To hide my face.' He states in an obvious manner.

You stare at him dumbfounded the look on your face most likely betraying your confusion at his answer. He walks past you a small chuckle audible enough for you to catch it. He goes inside without another word. He's such a hardass... you think to yourself but you follow after him locking the door behind you. He looks around, most likely looking for his daughter. 'Olivia is asleep in the guestroom.' you point your thumb over your shoulder at the door. He stares at you silently which makes you really uncomfortable. 'You can make yourself comfortable here. My bedroom is upstairs...' you inform him awkwardly.

He stands there, not uttering a word, not even moving an inch, just looking at you, his eyes searching your skin and face, analysing your body and appearance with a prodding, cold, and distant gaze.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally utters a few words in response to you. '..That'll do..' he dismisses you with his usual monotonous and stern voice.

You nod and go up the stairs. once inside the room, you lock the door and sit on your bed. You stay like that for a while trying to comprehend today's events. You're unsure how things will play out between you and the masked man downstairs. You only hope that it won't interfere with the peaceful life you've built for yourself here. After what feels like hours have passed, you rise and start digging in your closet for pyjamas and a towel. You'll take a shower, hoping it will wash away the unease that seems to overtake you.

As you strip away your clothes and step into the shower, the warmth of the water fills your body as it washes away the cold. You let the hot water run over you for a while, allowing yourself to relax and forget the tension still lingering around you. After a few minutes, you step out and dry off by sliding your towel along your wet skin. Feeling refreshed and cleaner, you pull on a comfy set of pyjamas before returning to bed.

Once under the sheets, you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. Unlike Bellamy who snores peacefully on the rug next to your bed, you don't have such luck. You stare at the wooden ceiling above you. The house is dead quiet and you try to focus your hearing in hopes you'll catch something from outside your room. A few minutes pass when you can distinctly hear the faucet of the downstairs bathroom sink. You keep listening trying to imagine what he's doing. He's probably washing up, you think. The house creeks as the wind outside starts to blow. Soon after the rain starts once again, the sound of raindrops hitting your window finally lulls you to sleep.

All the 141’s coats would be baggy on you.

I dont care if your short, tall, thin, or curvy it will ALWAYS be baggy! Listen… when they are off duty they like to be comfy, they are tired of the form fitting rough uniforms they wear at work. All of their clothes are super soft and baggy as hell on them.

If your walking to a date and your shivering they’ll drape their coat over your shoulders. The neckline is up to your nose and you cant even see your body with how big the whole coat is. Its so comfy and warm in it, also it has their cologne and scent all over it. To be honest its heaven on earth to be smothered by it.

if this does perhaps trigger you or go against your guidelines please ignore this, but mayhaps I request a fic where it’s a beach day for the tf141 + reader and the reader doesn’t go in the water because of their hidden scars they have on their arms and they don’t show it until their buttoned up beach sweater falls a bit and it shows them their scarred arms?

Oh no it doesnt trigger me or go against my guidelines! Thank you so much for the request I really appreciate it!❤️

I’m sorry for the wait btw I’ve been busy with work but I really hope you still enjoy this story anon!

TW: unspecified scars on arms, low self esteem

Poly!TF141 x GN!Reader

A little bit of angst but mainly fluffy💗

Nicknames used: mo graidh, love, doll

For the first time in forever everyone’s leave of absence is at the same time. Your excited ready to rest after such a long hard op and so is the rest of the team. Despite your protest everyone has decided to go to the beach for a whole day.

As you sit on the beach you make sure your light jacket stays in place not wanting it to slip off. The heat is unbearable even while finding shelter under a colorful umbrella. You sit on an old scratchy beach towel watching your loved ones frolic in the waves.

You’re a new part of the polycule with them and it’s your first time ever being in a polygamous relationship. They’ve never seen the long gashes on your arms knowing they will only find them disgusting. Even though they have scars it makes them so much more sexy, for you though they were ugly splotches of damaged skin.

Johnny comes out of the water soaked to the bone, his mohawk plastered to the side of his face. His smile is brighter than the sun as he trudges through sand to your beach towel haven.

“Mo gràdh what are ye doin under tha’ umbrella? I don’ wan’ ye ta miss out on all tha fun”

“I’m just not really in the mood to swim today”, you say bashfully not wanting to say the true reason.

Johnny leans in a little closer his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes softening.

“Are yeh sure? Its steamin’ hot outside an’ I don’ wan’ yeh to get sick. If theres a reason ye can tell me ah wont tell a soul”

You look at him your heart pounding in your chest anxious to tell him the truth, ready for the weight on your shoulders to be lifted.

“I’ve been anxious about-“

Out of nowhere a ball hits Johnny square in the head. Your train of thought is completely derailed as Johnny’s face hits the sand.

“Oh my god! Johnny are you ok?”

You look around to see Kyle cringing at the scene with Ghost next to him and John on the other side of a net.

“Sorry mate didn’t mean to hit you!”, Kyle yells out.

Johnny pops up with a grimace on his face, your resolve dissolves after.

“What were ya saying after a very rude interruption?”

You laugh half heartedly, “just don’t worry about it, lets join them yeah?” It just isnt the right time, it’ll happen eventually right?

You stand up grabbing onto Johnnys arm and yank him up to his feet. You grab the volley ball and toss it Ghost happily.

After a long time of playing the sun is beating down on you. The heat is smothering and the sweat accumulating under your hoodie is making you go mad. They don’t seem like they are close to stopping and you don’t want to ruin the fun so you keep pushing yourself to the utter limit.

“Hey can we take a break for a moment, I just want to have a quick drink”

“Of course ye can love its not like we’re gonna yell at ye for it. How about we all take a break then we’ll start back up again, “John says with a wide smile

The others nod in agreement their skin flushed and their hair soaked with sweat. The water bottle is your holy grail, you chug it like theres no tomorrow. Once your done you crumple it up feeling only a little bit better but it doesnt gove you relief. The fabric clings to you and no matter how much water or wind there is, it wont give you relief like taking it off.

You don’t see that behind you, they are worried for you. With brows furrowed and hushed whispers they send Ghost to get to the bottom of this.

As you sit in the sand grabbing another water bottle you feel a hand on your shoulder. Its heavy and calloused but it gives you some peace.

“Love y’need to take off the jacket”, Ghost says quietly.

His hands gently wrap around the jacket pulling it down your shoulders. Despite you not wanting him to see you dont have the energy to push him away. His hands gently coax your arms from the sleeves, you flush in shame of the scars on your arms.

Ghost looks you in the eyes and you brace yourself for yelling, laughing, just something horrible to happen.

Instead you feel his hand gentle on your arms his thumbs running over the scars. His brown eyes are soft despite the furrow in his brow.

“Why didn’t you show us earlier?”, his voice as soft as it can be.

Your eyes start to water, looking away you wipe your tears and say quietly, “I-I thought you all wouldnt want me, I thought y-you would think I was ugly with all these scars”

You sniffle holding back the tears, Ghost pulls you in for a deep hug letting you spill your tears.

“Your absolutely beautiful hon we wouldn’t want you any other way scarred or unscarred”

As you burrow your head into his neck he waves the team over to help comfort you. The team sits kn the large towel around you concerned for your wellbeing. Kyle sits next to you, his hand smoothing over your back.

“hey, you doin ok babe? Whats wrong?”

You only burrow further into Ghost not wanting to say it. He sighs rubbing your neck as he quietly says, “She has a couple scars on her arms an’ she thinks shes not good looking”

Johnny immediately pops up outraged at you thinking your not the most beautiful person walking on this earth. A glare from Ghost and Price shuts him up before he said anything stupid.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for hiding this from you guys. I was scared that if you saw me like this you wouldnt want me anymore”

Kyle keeps rubbing your back leans towards your ear, “Hon listen to me, you are the most beautiful person we’ve ever met. We would never want you in our life and we would never ever judge you for your scars”

You lift your head from Ghosts neck sniffling and rubbing the tears from your eyes, “Really?”

“Yes really love, I mean we all have scars. Johnny has one from fighting from a chicken and losing”

“AH DIDNAE LOSE AH WAS BEIN MAULED AN’ SURVIVED!”, Johnny yells angrily.

Despite your insecurities you laugh at his outburst, seeing your bright smile Johnny calms down a little more punching Kyle in the arm jokingly.

All of you sit together talking about the scars on each of your bodies and it makes you feel less insecure and more close to your boyfriends.

John stands up with sweat on his brow, “the sun is still beating down on us I think I’m gonna take a swim”

He reaches his hand to you with a soft smile on his face, “Wanna join us doll”

You look up at him unsure before taking his hand being lifted from the sand and saying happily, “alright sounds like fun”

The boys jump off the towel heading towards the ocean dragging you in.

How the TF141 boys would take care of you after a long day!

GN!READER

CW: Brief mentions of nudity but no smut, Fluff!Nicknames used: love, gorgeous, baby, mo ghràdh

MDNI!

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Before you even step through the door he knows you’ve had a hard day. The way you text has changed slightly, not many would notice it but he does.

Simon makes sure the house is cleaned and the dishes are put away so you dont have to worry about it. He finds a candle he believes you’d like and light it so the house is filled with a warm scent. He makes sure to clean the blankets on the bed so when you finally get to rest your head they can be fresh out of the dryer.

When you drag yourself through the door feeling like hell he is there. He gently picks you up ignoring any protest and lays you onto the bed. Seeing you melt against the warm sheets brings a smile to his face.

Simon undresses you with the utmost care sliding on your favorite pajamas. As he does so his calloused hands massage your tender muscles worshipping your beautiful body. Once your dressed and relaxed he climbs into bed next to you. Simon pulls you against his chest cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

“Relax love your home now, I got you”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has been texting you throughout the day letting you vent your frustrations. The day has been a train wreck and you’re ready to collapse from exhaustion. When you enter your shared home your ready to collapse on your bed and end the day.

Kyle instead whisks you away to the bathroom despite you whining about how you want to go to bed. When he opens the door to the bathroom it is so serene. The lights are off but there are multiple candles surrounding the tub filled with bubbles. The room smells of lavender immediately relaxing you. Next to the tub is a bath robe and your favorite slippers.

As your about to take off your clothes, Kyle gently replaces your hands with his. He takes off your clothes and neatly folds them off to the side. Kyle kisses your temple wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I gotcha gorgeous, just let me pamper you”

He takes you by the hand helping you into the tub as you sink deep into the bubbles. Kyle washes your hair and skin using oils to make sure you’re nice and soft when you come out. His hands massage the knots out of your neck wanting to be sure you’re as comfortable as humanly possible.

John Price

John is working from home He runs down the stairs to see your red puffy face filled with tears as sobs escape your lips. John takes you into his arms letting you finally let everything out. As you cry and sob about how horrible the day was he nods and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

John gently sits you down onto the couch wrapping you in a soft blanket holding you close to his chest. His calloused thumbs wipes each tear that falls from your eyes and kisses your reddened cheeks. John rubs your back in slow smooth circles calming you down until your sobs become hiccups.

When he sees you have calmed down he gently pulls away telling you to sit back and watch your favorite movie. He disappears for a bit as you quietly watch the movie till a nice aroma wafts into the living room. John comes back with a soft smile and in his hands a plate of your favorite food.

“Hello love, made your favorite”

He sits by your side placing the dish on the coffee table. John lays you on his chest leaning back against the couch letting you sit back and relax.

“Just relax for me baby, I’m not leaving your side any time soon.”

John “Soap” Mactavish

You slam the door open with so much force that your a tiny bit worried that there will be hole in the wall. The day has been hellish and the anger deep down has boiled to the surface. Everything is driving you up the walls from the tag on your shirt rubbing against your neck to the rough socks scraping your heel. You kick the door shut behind you tossing your shoes off.

Johnny jumps off the couch worried about you, “mo ghràdh, whits wrong?”

You look towards him finally losing any patience you’ve had, “Whats wrong? Whats wrong?!”

He stands there as you pace yelling about every minor and major inconvenience, every problem you had today. Its takes a while til your tuckered out and left hollow. He takes you gently into his arms swaying back and forth.

“I’m sorry ya had a horrid day luv, sorry I wasnae there to comfort ya”

You only shake your head insisting it isnt his fault, you were just so wound up and exploded. As you try to explain he kisses you stopping the endless rambling.

Johnny guides you to the couch grabbing the fluffiest blanket placing it on you. He sits next to you joining you under the blankets. Johnny reaches to the controllers on the coffee table silently offering you the second one.

Both of you play for hours on end laughing and yelling at one another totally forgetting about the day. All you know now is the love that Johnny has for you and the warmth you feel when your with him.

Omg this took forever, heres Ghost! I am so happy about this drawing!!📝✨❤️

The boys take care of you after a rough mission leaving you in the hospital🏥

CW: Mentions of broken bones

GN!Reader x TF141

After a mission gone wrong you were left in the bases hospital battered and bruised. The bones in your finger were crushed and your reward is a stiff itchy bandage. The lights above your bed buzz like swarming flies waiting for the opportunity to eat you alive. Constant beeping and buzzing fill your ears as you lay in a small sterile room unable to leave.

Your eyes grow fuzzy as everything becomes too much, everything feels so overwhelming. You want to leave, to run to the nearest exit and be with your team again. Muscles tense as you attempt to sit up but they buckle, you land back on the bed with a thud.

Right ad you were about to lose hope the door to your room swings open. John, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon have there arms filled with different things that they know will make you feel better.

“Can’t ‘ave our mate suffer ‘ere alone, gotcha some sweets”

Kyle chuckles elbowing Johnny in the ribs.

“You’re gonna rot her teeth Johnny, I actually brought something useful.”

You lift your head wondering what he has only to see your bed sheets from your bunk. He gently takes off the uncomfortable bedding and drapes the sheets onto your sore body. Immediately you relax feeling much more comfortable than before.

Johnny sets the candy onto the table next to your bed not without snatching one for himself pocketing it.

“The doctors been treating you good?”, Simon asks while leaning against the wall.

He holds his mask in one hand, his sandy blonde hair a mess and the eye black still smeared on his face. Despite that his eyes hold a softness to them genuinely worried about your well being.

“Yeah they’ve been treating me good. Nice to see you again Simon”

He hums in approval happy to hear your ok, its always a pleasure to see him without the mask. In your heart you know that he’ll only shed the mask for those he trusts. Its been a while since he’s been unmasked so seeing him without it makes this moment feel special.

John walks up to the machines with his hands on his hips looking at them for a moment before looking at you.

“Is the sound botherin’ you because I know for sure they are bothering me”

“I mean yeah I guess but you can’t just shut them off”

He doesn’t hesitate before going to the side of the machine turning off the constant beeping and noise.

“You can’t just do that they need to be on for stuff”

John turns to you with a smile and crinkle on the sides of his eyes. The beard he has only making his smile feel even more warm than before.

“Darlin’ we are constantly breaking the rules for what is right. Right now we’re taking care of one our own, you already know we’d break every rule in the book for that”

You just shake your head with a smile on your face knowing that theres no point in arguing with him. A yawn escapes your mouth and your eyes start feeling heavy finally feeling at peace. You fight it wanting to spend more time with your team.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, slowly you look up to see Simons face. His thumb caresses your shoulder softly.

“Rest up soldier, we’ll be here when you wake up”

With that you finally let yourself rest and drift off to sleep knowing your team is here for you.

I couldnt sleep so heres a little fluffy thing for everyone!

Ghost x GN!Reader

You lay in bed with the covers pulled up to your nose. You hold a pillow with your husband’s shirt over it. He has been gone for months for a mission you could never know about. You smell the t-shirt again trying to find a sense of comfort while he’s gone.

The bed is too cold and quiet, the room is void of noise. The lonliness was starting to gnaw at you, the need to have a warm body next to you was overwhelming. You stare into the darkness wishing that he’d come home soon. Your eyes start to flutter feeling exhausted from the day until you hear the front door open.

He’s home.

You raise from bed tripping over yourself to get untangled from the bedsheet and quickly going to the stair case. You see him close the door quietly behind him locking the door. He shucks off his boots and places them the shoe rack next to the door.

His shoulders are slouched exhausted, you can see how he winces as he stands back up. You hope he’s not too injured from this mission.

“Simon?”, your voice echoes through the house

His head snaps towards you still running on adrenaline, before relaxing with a sigh. He takes off his mask pocketing it into his trousers, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

He ascends the stairs as you descend meeting each other in the middle. Tears gather in your eyes with a wobbly smile.

“Hi Simon”

“Hello love”

Tears fall down your cheeks, you can feel his calloused fingers wipe them away. You wrap your arms around his neck burying your face into your neck relieved that he’s home. Your hands wander every part of him confirming that he’s truly home.

Gently he picks you up leading you back to your bedroom.

“No more tears, I’m home.”

You nod taking a couple deep breaths calming yourself. He gently takes your hands off of him to quickly toss off his clothes into some shadowy corner.

You lay down with him next to you feeling like this is all just a dream. Ghost chuckles when he sees one of his old shirts on a pillow.

“You really did miss me huh”

You nod and he kisses the crown of your forehead tucking your head into the crook of his neck. Simon hands snake around your waist and your circle his.

Simons hands wander your body and smelling the scent of your shampoo. No more gunpowder and blood, no more screams of the dying, just his love and a comfortable bed.

Everything feels so much more right. The bed is the perfect size, its so nice and warm, and the sound of his heartbeat calms your mind. Your eyes start to flutter shut again but you want to spend more time with Simon.

His hand pets your head as he whispers in your ear, “Sleep well love, I’ll be here when you wake up”

Your mind drifts off to sleep now at peace knowing that he’s safe in your arms once again.

Fluff!

COD boys snuggle up with you!

Just imagine being cuddled by them in bed. You don’t know whos chest your head is laying on or whos arm is draped around your waist, all you know is that you’re in heaven. You can feel sleep pull at you like a sinking anchor below the tides. Before the current pulls you down to a soft slumber you admire the men around you.

The moonlight shimmers through the window allowing you to see their handsome faces. Kyle’s face is warm as the sun as he quietly talks to Johnny. The both of them have an hand on your shoulder rubbing their thumbs softly against your smooth slin. Johns eyes are closed but the calloused hand lightly petting you lets you know hes still awake. Simon is sitting behind you, you can feel his steady breath and heartbeat. His body is warm and you can’t help but melt at the feeling.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as the world goes dark. Just as your mind drifts to slumber you swear you can feel a soft kiss or two against your forehead. You may ask in the morning but all they’ll say is you must’ve had a good dream.

MDNI!

TW- Being watched without being told, PinV, mentions of edging and being given bruises.

Imagine how nice it would be to be shared the 141. Your Johns girlfriend, but his men need a soft place to land. Johnny has always had problems keeping a girl, he was always just a tad bit too overzealous. Kyle was so dedicated to his job that he never really had time to take care of a girl. Ghost couldn’t put enough trust into a relationship to make any girl feel happy eventually leaving him for his distance.

As John is rutting into you making you feel oh so good he’s whispering to you about his men. How Kyle would worship your body as if you were god, Johnny would make you beg for more and give all he has to you, and how Ghost would make you sob for pleasure.

Your mind is already so muddled with pleasure, you nod and moan at the thought of being treated so nicely. John can feel your pussy squeeze him so tight at the thought.

“Yeah you want them dont’cha baby?”

His fingers find your clit between your legs, you cry out in pleasure as he continues to pound into you. You mumble and nod, your mind stuck in that nice fuzzy feeling.

“Dont worry baby your gonna feel them soon, go on beg for them”

You cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave. He chuckles before slamming into you chasing his own orgasm. After three brutal thrusts he groans into your ear as he spills into you. You’re both breathing in the heady smell of sex in the room holding each other tightly.

“Don’t move hon, gonna stay in you for a little longer”

You nod tired and content not noticing how John looks at the security camera in your shared bedroom. He looks directly into the camera giving a smirk with soft nod before giving his full attention to you.

Back at the base Johnny, Kyle, and Ghost are slack jawed looking at Ghosts phone. They can see your beautiful body, naked and covered in sweat. Ghost can only imagine how beautiful you’d look with tears in your eyes.

Johnnys face is flushed at the thought of your body littered in hickeys as he claims you over and over again.

Kyle can only imagine you writhing in pleasure with Price, edging you till your begging for an orgasm.

They can’t wait to have a piece of you, so will you be a good girl for them?

Hello everybody! I am sorry for the lack of activity on my page. I have been going through some medical problems since December. I’m doing much better compared to before. If you have any requests please send them in!

Upcoming:

The lie detector!-TF141 x Reader💕

You and the boys go out for a couple drinks after a successful mission. Soap decides to pull out the old dusty lie detector to find some juicy secrets!

Moving in-Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader💞

You and Kyle have been dating for a year and a handful of months, now your packing up boxes and moving in with your boyfriend!

Your home- Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish x Reader💗

Johnny comes home stressed trying to forget about the horrors he’s seen after being deployed. He needs you to help him realize that he’s home, that he’s not Seargant John Mactavish right now but your Johnny.