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Authors be like âmy first fic, pls be kindđ â
And then itâs the most beautiful thing Iâve read in my whole lifeeeeeeee đĽšđĽšđĽš

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Littlest Dove - Ten
Pairing: John Price X Reader
Summary: After a drunk night on the town turns you into the only unfortunate witness to a horrific crime, you quickly find yourself in a bit over your head. The bad guy doesn't like loose ends, and the good guys wanna do their job. There's always collateral in some form... isn't there?
Warnings: injuries, language, minor angst, fluff, not edited nor proofread - good luck again :)
Word Count: 3.6K
A/n: sorry for long delayyyyys only two more parts plus epilogue... and then... lex pauses to work on her books??? who knows. not ME because i've got more ideas brewing for bucky simon and konig soooooooooo... but anyway, that's enough from me. i hope you enjoy!
~*~
The next thirteen hours are spent driving.
This drive isnât as bad as the first one, in your opinion.Â
The drive to the first safe house was dark and scary and full of so many unpleasant thoughts and feelings and unknowns.
Sure, youâre not exactly any safer now than you were then, but for some reason you feel like you are.Â
Now, after everything thatâs happened, you feel more relaxed, more at ease with the big man beside you.Â
Youâre not sure if itâs the close proximity over the past few days, or if itâs the intimate way he held you, or the soft touch of his hands against your skin when he cleaned your wound.Â
Whatever it is, it makes you feel safe.Â
Price, on the other hand, only feels more apprehensive.
Hot Pot
John Price x wife!reader OC
Summary: You and your husband John Price eat some suspicious food.
Warnings: swearing, Drug use, getting drugged
ââââââ
Simon bloody! Riley who eats like every meal you make is his last on Earth.
Hell, he would lick his fingers clean and swipe the plate with his thumb.
âSiâ you laugh scandalised by his table manners.
âWhat?â he grunts, already reaching for you instead of the sink. âSaid it were good, didnât I?â
âThat doesnât mean you lick the plate!â
âSaves water,â he shrugs before hauling you up like you weigh nothing.
You smack his chest, giggling. âPut me down âkitchenâ
âBedroom,â he corrects.
âFood was good. Wanna thank the chef proper.â
...and he does. Always does. Kissing you stupid until you forget what you were even laughing about in the first place.
But.
Thereâs one thing.
One absolute, non-negotiable line.
Onions. Onions.
pls could u make a simon ghost x reader about simon whoâs worried about your marks and bruises after our rough s!x? he thinks that he hurt u but u donât care bc u liked it very much
thank u xx
Hi sweety đ
Thanks for your request.
Hope you'll like it.
Simon Ghost Riley x you
Bruises
The next morning, the flat is quiet. Rain taps softly against the bedroom window.
Simon is already awake. Not unusual.
Years of military service made sleeping in nearly impossible, even on the rare mornings when there was nowhere to be.
He's lying against the headboard, one arm behind his head, lazily scrolling through his phone while the room slowly fills with pale morning light.
The bathroom door opens.
You step out wearing nothing but a loose tank top and a pair of shorts. Still half asleep. Still rubbing your eyes.
"Morning," you mumble.
Simon looks up. And immediately freezes. His phone lowers. His eyes narrow.
"...Come here."
You blink. "What?"
"Come here."
That voice. The one that means he's noticed something.
You walk over to the bed. Confused.
The moment you get close enough, his hand catches your wrist gently. Then his gaze drops to your shoulder. To the side of your neck. To the faint marks that had been nearly invisible in the darkness last night.
Not invisible anymore. The morning light is unforgiving.
Your stomach immediately flips. Mostly because of the look on his face. Not anger. Not embarrassment. Guilt.
Simon exhales slowly. "Christ."
You already know what's going through his head. "Simon - "
His thumb brushes against one of the bruises near your collarbone. Like he's checking if it's real. Like he can't quite believe he put it there.
"You kept saying you were fine."
"I was."
"You hissed."
You grin. "That's because you have the subtlety of a charging tank."
His eyes lift immediately.
You shouldn't be smiling. Not when he's looking at you like that.
"You said 'ouch' twice."
"I said lots of things."
His jaw tightens. "Love."
You can't help laughing. Just a little. Because the man who had been completely impossible the night before now looks like somebody just informed him he kicked a puppy.
His hand slides up your arm. Careful. Almost reverent.
"I'm sorry."
The words come quietly. Seriously. Not the automatic apology people throw around.
You feel your chest squeeze. Because Simon doesn't apologize unless he means it.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
His eyes flicker back to the marks. "I should've been more careful."
"You were careful."
"Love."
"You were."
He doesn't look convinced. Not even remotely. So you climb onto the bed beside him. Close enough that your knee touches his. Close enough to force him to look at you instead of the bruises.
"They don't bother me."
His gaze searches yours. Making sure. Really making sure.
"You sure?"
You nod. A smile pulling at your lips.
"They were worth it."
The look he gives you is immediate. Half disbelief. Half exasperation.
"You are impossible."
"Maybe."
"You definitely are."
His hand moves to your shoulder again. This time he leans forward. Pressing a kiss against one of the marks. Soft. Gentle. The exact opposite of the guilt twisting across his face.
Another kiss. A little lower. Then another. As if he can somehow apologize to every single bruise individually.
You laugh quietly. "Simon."
He ignores you.
Another kiss. Another. Muttering something under his breath. You catch only part of it.
"...should've known better..."
"You're literally apologizing to my skin."
"It deserves one."
That makes you laugh harder.
His eyes finally lift to yours. And for the first time since you walked into the room, the guilt begins to fade. Because you're smiling. Because you're happy. Because you're clearly not upset.
His hand slides to the back of your neck. Pulling you a little closer. Forehead touching yours.
"You'll tell me if something's too much."
It's not a question.
You nod immediately.
"Always."
His shoulders relax. Just a fraction. Enough.
Then he sighs. Long and dramatic.
"As if I needed another reason to be obsessed with you."
You grin. "Oh, that's your problem?"
"One of many."
His forehead stays against yours. His eyes close briefly. And despite all the years behind him, all the missions, all the things he's survived, there's something impossibly soft about Simon Riley in moments like this.
The fierce soldier who can face anything. Yet spends an entire morning kissing every bruise he left behind because the thought of hurting you bothers him far more than it bothers you.
And you wouldn't trade that version of him for anything.

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Walk with me here
TW: toxic relationship, controlling, obsessive, manipulation
mdni
The concept of Simon âGhostâ Riley taking the role of a protective, older boyfriend seriously is an absolute given. With his bloody military background, safeguarding what belongs to him isnât just a habitâitâs a genuine, feral instinct.
But with you, that instinct borders on the primal.
In his mind, when you love something, you claim it, you lock it down, and you do whatever it takes to keep it safe from a world he knows is inherently rotten. You are perfectly capable of looking after yourself, but there is an undeniable, intoxicating comfort in knowing a massive, dangerous man is always ready to step in and tear the world apart for you.
Anytime you are out in public, his hand is on you instantly. But Simon doesnât just hold your hand; he claims it, his heavy, scarred fingers locking around yours with a bruising firmness. He guides you wherever you are heading, acting like a human guard dog, his tight grip a physical leash tethering you to his side.
If you look up and question it, heâll just grunt that itâs âso you donât get lost.â
While that might be a fraction of the truth, itâs mostly because he physically needs you closeâa raw vulnerability his pride would never openly admit. He needs to feel the pulse in your wrist beneath his thumb to quiet the constant, defensive static in his head.
Simon Riley is the kind of man who will be staring at his tray in the middle of the mess, poking at whatever slop theyâve been handed, and say something like âmy wife used to make this. Hers was betterâ in this low, hollowed out voice that makes every man at the table go quiet and exchange a look.
Nobody says anything.
Oh, theyâre all thinking. Sheâs gone, then.
He keeps a folded photo in his front breast pocket, worn soft at the creases from how many times heâs handled it. He doesnât show anyone. He just takes it out sometimes and looks at it with this expression like heâs being slowly gutted and then puts it away again.
Half drunk at the pub between deployments, leaning heavy on the bar, heâll say âI just miss her, sâall. Wish she was still here with meâ and someone will quietly offer to get him another pint because what else do you say to a grieving man.
Whole time youâre at home perfectly fine, he just really fucking misses you.ââââââââ
You woke up today, mind reeling and full of excitement, after all, today was your anniversary with Simon and your heart was fluttering at the thought of spending all the day with him.
He has the day free (miracle), so your mind was already spiraling with the things you prepared for him.
You looked at your side, just to find it empty, a small pang of sadness creeped on your heart but it was quickly pushed aside.
"What if he's making breakfast for us downstairs?"
You thought and the smile went back to your face , a little brighter.
You got up, made your side of the bed, brushed your teeth, took a quick shower, and put on a pretty sundress, prettier than the usual robes you pranced around on, fixed your hair, applied the perfume you know he loved, and looked at yourself in the mirror, fussing over your lipgloss.
You walked downstairs, trying to look not too excited.
"Babe?, sweetie!"
You called out softly, walking through the living room, heartbeat quickening as you entered the kitchen.
But you didn't find anything, it was as clean as you left it, your heart sank a little. Well maybe he was going to take you out for breakfast?.
You walked slowly towards the garage, just to find him there, fixing his car, clothes dirty and concentrated.
"Good morning sweetie" you whispered softly, hoping he'd jump in joy, maybe kiss you and tell you how grateful he was to be with you, instead, you were met with a quick "morning, love, thanks to the free day I'll do some stuff I have to get done by dawn"
Was all what he said, and you felt a lump form on in your throat, did...did he forget?.
You nodded, blinking back the sudden sting of tears and stepping back slowly.
You walked back in the house, mind reeling with thoughts of he forgetting one of the most special days in your life, the day he got down in one knee, flustered but vulnerable, telling you with a smitten expression about wanting to spend the rest of your life next to you in the rain.
The rest of the day you stayed with him, but not as you hoped for, for fucks sake your anniversary was even marked in big bold letters in the calendar you put in the fridge, and you were so excited of finally giving him the gifts you've been working on for months.
You accompanied through the day, to Johnny's house where they shared a beer and talked for hours, to the pub where he met with some friends you didn't know and left earlier bcuz the pub was disgusting, even to the supermarket to buy some stuff Gary told him he needed like Gary himself wasn't a grown ass man with his own money and legs to come to the supermarket.
Once you two where finally back home, your heart was destroyed, he forgot, your anniversary gift was in the closet of your shared bedroom still hidden and you couldn't hold back the tears.
Until Simon gave you a small peck on the cheek "Love, I'm sorry, I gotta go I have to do something important".
You heart leaped on your throat, maybe he did remember and he was going to take you to that restaurant you've hopping going for months, or to a romantic walk in the streets.
You nodded, suddenly joyful, not noticing his confused expression at your behavior, once he was gone, you did it everything, expensive dress, perfect makeup, perfect hair and your favourite jewelry, you looked stunning.
And decided to sit down on the living room and wait.
You sat down there, the first half an hour hopeful, the next hour your heart slowly stopped getting excited at any sounds of he maybe being home.
And by 11AM, you got up, not being able to hold back the tears, and got upstairs, the small heartbroken sobs wrecking your frame, with gentleness that was only betrayed by the tremble of your hands, you cleaned your face, took a long hot shower, and to pamper yourself a little you put on your favourite pink pajamas.
You didn't even notice when Simon was back home until you saw him on the bed, your wounded heart fluttered, and for a moment you thought you were going to burst in tears again, but you didn't, so, without greeting him, you sat down next to him in the bed.
Fucking hell, he wanted to play it like that?, well we were going to play like that cuz this game was invented by women.
For a moment you stood there, looking at him while he was reading, hoping just a little, even if your heart was shattered, that he'd even whisper a gentle "Happy anniversary love" and apologize.
But he didn't, he was clueless, treating this like any other day and not the day you vowed in front of your family and friends that you'd be next to him and grow old with him for the rest of your life.
You were sat down in the bed, Simon was leaning down next to you, already with his eyes closed, hair muffled, sheets messy, but not entirely asleep.
"What are you even waiting for?" He asked tiredly, just wanting to cuddle with you.
You kept your gaze locked in the pink digital clock on your nightstand.
"4...3...2...1"
When it hit 12AM, you turned to look at him with a sweet smile
"you forgot our anniversary"
To those words, his eyes snapped open, frozen in the sudden darkness when you got up, clutching your pink sheets, clad in your pink pajamas, pink bonnet and pink fluffy shoes, walk down the hall to sleep in the guests room and not with him.
"Huh?"
Oh he was so fucked up.
home is where the heart is (a sakusa kiyoomi x reader hurt/comfort)
warnings; minor swearing, arguments, lowercase on purpose
2.5k+ words !
a/n>>
hey guys since my sunarin fic got prtty good engagement i post ths (kinda) long sakusa fic b4 i go off for holidays!!
enjoy gng i feel i mightve cooked or i might be cooked!
Pt. 1
"Sorry to bother, Si, but can you grab me some Ibuprofen on your way home?" You asked, phone pressed to your ear as you toughed it though your typical pre-period(?) cramps.
A sigh came through the other end, "Sorry, love, it'll be late before I get home. I'll pick some up after I'm done here, though. There should be some Tylenol under the sink in the first aid kit," he said, his words unusually tense. You sat up on your elbows, brows furrowed.
"You, okay?"
"'Course, just these pricks at work getting on my last nerve," he grunted, making you chuckle.
"Well good luck, love you."
"Love you too."
Ghost hung up the phone and stuffed it away into his locker--right alongside his wedding ring. He let out a long sigh as he pressed his temple against the back of his hand, just trying to ease the guilt rearing up in the form of an ugly headache.
"Mate, you good?" Gaz asked, walking into the base's break room with Soap, still dressed in their gear from their most recent completed mission.
"I keep tellin' 'im to break it off sooner rather than later," Soap sighed dramatically.
Gaz's head snapped over. "You're still with her? We got all the information we needed from her three months ago."
"It's not that simple," Ghost grunted.
"You're the one who married her," Soap tacked on. "You made it complicated."
"Does she know yet?" Gaz asked before Ghost could snap at his Scottish friend. Ghost pushed himself off the break room wall, moving towards the observation room, where--thought a one-way mirror--he could see the woman at the table, your best friend, the bridesmaid at his and your wedding, and just sighed.
"No, she'll probably learn soon enough."
"Will she know you were involved?" Gax asked, hesitant to pry further into Ghost's less than ideal married life.
Ghost didn't answer.

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Littlest Dove - Nine
Pairing: John Price X Reader
Summary: After a drunk night on the town turns you into the only unfortunate witness to a horrific crime, you quickly find yourself in a bit over your head. The bad guy doesn't like loose ends, and the good guys wanna do their job. There's always collateral in some form... isn't there?
Warnings: injuries, language, minor angst, fluff, not edited nor proofread - good luck
Word Count: 2K
A/n: y'all don't understand how much i fw running on these sentences. i hope you guys can read it the way i'm writing it and it doesn't trigger anyone lol also SORRY it took so long i've got so much on the go teehee
~*~
For a man in his forties, Captain John Price gives a cold shoulder that would impress a teenage girl.Â
He ignores you for two and a half days, offering nothing more than a grunt in response to any question youâve dared to ask him.Â
It isnât until youâve finished your rations for the night and are heading to the bathroom to redress your wound that he finally breaks his silence and calls your name.Â
Your real name, not the one they gave you.
Littlest Dove - Eight
Pairing: John Price X Reader
Summary: After a drunk night on the town turns you into the only unfortunate witness to a horrific crime, you quickly find yourself in a bit over your head. The bad guy doesn't like loose ends, and the good guys wanna do their job. There's always collateral in some form... isn't there?
Warnings: angst, injuries (kinda descriptive, blood), language, violence, death
Word Count: 2k
A/n: sorry this is so fricken late AHH but i hope you enjoy!
~*~
You pace slowly up and down the sidewalk, taking deep breaths as you go over what Lieutenant Riley told you before you left the safety of the house.Â
âWeâve got one shot at this,â heâd said. âAnd this isnât without risk. These men are dangerous.â
His voice was serious and colder than the wind. Â
âSoap and Gaz will be following close behind to make sure they donât break away from the route and Iâll be watching nearby the whole time.â
You had nodded, but you felt anything but ready.Â
âWhat do I do?â
âWalk. Thatâs all you need to do. Everything else will happen naturally.â
He hadnât given you any more information than that.Â
So, you continue doing to only thing you can do to help.Â
You walk.
Toji loves his chronically online wife!
The sound of skin being smacked erupted in the kitchen, followed by a grunt of surprise and a giggle.
âStop doinâ that shit.â Your husband grumbled, his voice holding no real malice.Â
âNot my fault itâs so tempting.â You replied. âEspecially when youâre bent down like thatâŚâ your voice trailed off, a slight smile on your face as you ogled your husband.
Toji was peacefully looking for something in the fridge when you came over and smacked his ass that was on full display in his sweatpants. He shouldâve expected it, really. You always took any chance you got to do it, and that was the perfect moment.
He chuckled, standing up straight. âYâknow, usually a man is the one who does the stuff you do to his wife.â Your husband murmured, pulling you closer by your waist.
âAre you insinuating that youâre my malewife?â You retorted. âI mean, I am the breadwinner here, so it checks out.â The comment earned a scoff behind a knowing smirk.Â
âYeah, yeah, Iâm your âmalewifeâ or whatever bullshit you see online nowadays.â He teased, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Even throughout all the jokes and random comments, he still loved you. It was something he enjoyed being around.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âBabe,â you called out, laying on the couch with your eyes glued to your phone.
Toji didnât tear his eyes away from the TV displaying some random show he liked, responding with a simple âHm?âÂ
âWould you still love me if I was a worm?â
Silence.
What the fuck did you just say?
â⌠what?â He questioned, slowly turning his head towards you.
You repeated the question.
âNo, I heard you. I said âwhatâ because what the fuck does that even mean?â He understood these questions less and less every single day.
You sighed dramatically. âOh okay, so you hate me and want me to die. Gosh.âÂ
âI didnât say that!â He retorted with a laugh, leaning down to lay his body on top of yours without completely crushing you. âIâm gonna put a timer on your screen time.â He threatened.
âNo.â You immediately shielded your phone from him.Â
This went on for about five minutes before a groan was heard from your stepson.
âGet a room.â He grumbled, heading over to the kitchen.
âThis is our house.â Your husband shot back, getting up from the couch before helping you up as well.Â
âAre you hungry, Megs?â You asked, following him to the kitchen. Toji followed you as well.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Toji stirred in the middle of the night, glancing over at your side of the bed to see you not-so-silently snickering at your phone.
âHey, why arenât you asleep?â He rasped, turning over to wrap his arms around you. âDonât you have work in a few hours?â
You nodded. âYeah, but I needed to use the bathroom and I couldnât sleep anymore when I came back.â
He rolled his eyes. âCouldâve just woken me up.â He said to you, âcâmon, babe. Put the phone down.â
When you didnât oblige, he sighed and grabbed your phone from your hands before placing it on his nightstand. âHey-â you protested.
âNope.â His arms tightened around your torso and arms, caging you in with your face pressed against his chest. âSleep.â He demanded.
âI canât if youâre suffocating me.â You retorted, your voice muffled by his skin. âBut I guess Iâll die a happy woman between your pecs.â You teased.Â
âEnough.â He lifted your body only slightly so you wouldnât be smothered. âJust go to bed. Canât have you fainting at work later.â That earned a sigh from you.
You really just wanted to watch your phone until you eventually fell asleep. âFine.â You mumbled reluctantly.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Toji arrived home from work, surprised that you were already home. You usually got home after he did, but he was happy nonetheless.Â
Until he heard you giggling at some random video as you made dinner.
âOh, God, what are you watching now?â He asked before hearing probably the most insane sentence heâd ever heard in his life.
âWHATâS ABOUT TO HAPPEN IS THAT IâM âBOUT TO STRIP ALL MY CLOTHES OFF AS SOON AS I END STREAM, AND IâM GONNA TAKE OFF RUNNING AND I'M GONNA RUN SO FAST MY BUTTCHEEKS ARE GONNA CLAP THE WAY THERE'S GONNA BE TURBULENCE THATâS GONNA LIFT ME INTO THE AIR AND I'M GONNA BE FLYING IN THE AIR BECAUSE MY BUTTCHEEKS ARE CLAPPING SO FAST TOGETHER THAT ITâS CREATING WIND RESISTANCE AND I FLY OFF INTO SPACE AND I BECOME A NEW PLANET THAT THEY DISCOVER AND THEYâRE GONNA NAME ME âSETON Bâ OR SOMETHING, THATâS EXACTLY WHATâS âBOUT TO HAPPEN.â
âWhat the fuck?â He scoffed, watching you laugh your ass off at whatever some streamer you liked said. âBabe, no, seriously, what the fuck?â He repeated, coming up behind you and turning the video off.Â
âSorry, babe. Heâs so funny.â You said, stirring the food.
âI really need to manage your screen time.â He mumbled.
@hypnoticchar
Deaf!Simon Riley and the vibrations of your voice (18+)
Simon Riley has been deaf for the past few years of his life due to sudden acoustic trauma from explosions and gunfire. He never had a problem with it, in fact, he never really talked or listened to people in general when he was able to hear. The tinnitus still rings out in his head, still makes him press his pillow against his ears at night, but at least he didnât have to listen to anything else.
It wasnât until you came along that he wished he could hear again, but something about the simple intimacy of feeling your voice rather than hearing it made him feel like this is how it was always meant to be for him.
He liked the fact that you would still speak to him as he reads your lips, that you didnât shy away when he would occasionally reach up to touch your cheek just to feel the vibrations of your voice. Of course, you accommodated him as well, learning how to articulate your words better for lip reading, how to use sign language, but when he would ask you to speak about anything and everything you always did.
You never fail to make his world feel loud in a space that was so consumingly quiet before.
And when it came to sex, it was never anything short of passionate. It was a different kind of intimacy you had never experienced before him.
Something I love sm in fics is when in the middle of a make-out or ânasty-discoâ the guy is begging reader âtell me you love meâ LIKE YESSSS BE A YEARNER. PATHETIC OBSESSED LOVER BOY.
đA man that yearns is a man that EARNSđ

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Ghost with a sleeptalking partner
pairing: Simon Riley x gn!reader cw: mentions of sleepwalking, honestly just fluff wc: 1085 an: STAWWPP this is so cute, i had so much fun writing this. I used to sleepwalk (and talk) like crazy, so maybe im projecting here. I might like this version more than Price's. Enjoy!!
To say Ghostâs sleeping schedule was thoroughly fucked would be an understatement. Even before he enlisted, heâd had his fair share of reasons to indulge in insomnia. Sleep had never come easy to him, no matter what pills he took, which meditation techniques Gaz wouldnât shut up about, or the amount of times Soap had offered to knock him out with the butt of his gunâtempting, but not sustainable.Â
Which is why it was so jarring to have met you. A soldier, hardened by bloodshed and angry COs who, somehow, was able to fall asleep on command. At first, it was odd to find you sleeping in every possible place, flat surface available or not. Briefing room, supply tent, comms building, mess hallâsometimes your head would fall against a table, sometimes youâd be seated, sometimes, somehow, youâd be standing up, asleep like a mummy.Â
He didnât understand how youâd developed the habitânot until he slept with you for the first time. It was that night, when both of you were covered with a shit blanket that did little to keep out the cold, that he realized why you were exhausted all the time.Â
You talked in your sleep. And not just talkedâyou rambled like crazy. It made sense why you got no rest, given you spent most of your time asleep arguing with people who didnât exist.Â
Meet The Husband
Pairing: Toji x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff/Crack(?)
Tags: Plotless/Drabble
Word Count: 1200
A/N: this little bunny wouldn't go away so i had to write it :p
âMiss Y/N! Miss Y/N!â An excited Itadori Yuji scurries down the classroom. Seemingly unaware or unbothered that heâs bumping into his classmates who throw glares as sharp as daggers his way.Â
Quickly placing your lesson planner on the desk, You hold your hand out to stop Yuji from running nose first into your desk.