you walk into the room later to find a giant mound of blankets with your boyfriend underneath. he sticks his head out when he smells the bowl of soup you’ve brought up for him. only sitting up when you climb next to him, feeding him gently because he simply insists he’s too sick to do it himself.

grunting and groaning every time they sit down slowly. having trouble getting back up off the chair or out of bed. long strings of mumbled curses, “bloody hell, fucking shit, fuck, goddamnit.”

“could you move any bloody slower?” ghost grunts as he’s manspread on the couch, shoulders stiff and aching.

“do you want your fucking cup of tea or not, you fucker?” soap grunts back with a scowl, getting up from the couch.

ghost rolls his eyes, letting out a huff. “if it’s gonna take you five years to get off the bloody couch, i might as well get it myself.”

price shakes his head, chuckling and shooting gaz an amused look. gaz smirks, knowing he’s about to stir the pot even more.

“yeah, mate. hurry your old ass up” he adds hiding a laugh.

tw: angst! mention of death

~ you fell for simon riley. but the loss of his previous partner haunts the both of you until it’s too late.

~~

you met simon a few months after transferring bases. you first knew him as ghost, the most intimidating guy in the 141. the guy who never took that damn skull mask off. there wasn’t much to know about him. sure, word spreads fast around base but it was like no one knew anything about him, except for one thing. you had heard her name several times when walking by gossiping recruits. saw her face in a picture of the 141 standing next to ghost. it didn’t take you long to find out the full story. she was ghost’s lover. tragically lost during a mission. her name flew around base like a secret, like everyone was scared to speak her name aloud. you should’ve known why.

ghost was assigned as your lt. he was in charge of your training. it was clear he was experienced and his high rank was no mistake. he was skilled, but he was quiet. your only interactions with him were during training through small critiques or commands. it wasn’t until a few months later that changed. he had approached you during a night out with the team. it surprised you a bit, staring up at the man as he asked you simple questions about yourself, swirling the whiskey around in a glass too small for his hand. you exchanged gentle smiles, small blushes and laughs. he had even invited you out the next day at a small restaurant. he was charming and treated you well. your connection with ghost grew into something more. you were always by his side around base and people knew you were together, even if you didn’t make it official.

months went by and he slowly let you in. you knew how he took his tea in the morning, how he liked his eggs. you knew his favorite color, the way he softly snored when he slept. you eventually moved in with him on base. mornings off were spent in bed together, limbs intertwined and secrets spilling out of your lips. evenings were spent cooking together, his arms always secured around your waist as you smiled up at him. and nights were spent sleeping in each others arms, a comfortable silence holding both of you.

you didn’t know where it went wrong. it was hard to tell. it always was with simon. you felt him slipping through your fingers little by little. he was beginning to become distant and you tried everything to stop it. you noticed it in small things. he wouldn’t come home at the same time anymore, staying out later and later as the days went by. you spent more mornings waking up alone in bed, his side no longer filled with the warmth of his presence. you cooked dinner alone, simon either somewhere else or in another room. he didn’t hold you anymore, he barely even looked at you. and deep down you knew why. you knew it was her. but you so desperately wanted to convince yourself you were wrong. maybe it wasn’t her, maybe you could fix it, maybe you could fix him.

but you couldn’t. things got worse. simon was never home anymore and when he was, he was drunk or simply avoiding you at all costs. when you tried reaching out to him, he pushed you away. always telling you “not now,” “i don’t want to talk,” “just drop it.” the man you loved was gone, but you so badly wanted to bring him back. conversations were turned into arguments. no more soft secrets were shared between you two. he wasn’t yours anymore.

you had grown tired of loving a man who wasn’t there anymore. but you wanted to try one more time. simon sat on the couch as you spoke to him with hurt lacing your words. you couldn’t even tell if he was listening to you anymore.

“this isn’t the end, there are other things that can give your life meaning, simon” you pleaded hoping he’d look at you, just once, just one more time.

“like what? you?” he spat finally looking at you. but you weren’t met with the loving eyes you fell in love with. no, they were empty, almost filled with distaste at the sight of you. he raised his eyebrows as he spoke, as if you giving him meaning in life was a joke to him. and it broke you.

you were silent for a moment. feeling tears prick your eyes. you were tired of fighting for a man who was already gone. “this is the part where you apologize,” you sighed. but you knew he wouldn’t. he had no reason to anymore.

he spoke sternly, no emotion, no hint of love you so desperately wanted to find. “this is the part where you leave.”

you bit you lip, turning away from him and grabbing your things to put into a bag. “fine, simon. i can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.”

“oh it’s too difficult for you, is it?” he said sarcastically watching you pack your things.

you turn to him, tears falling down your face. your voice shakes with anger, sadness, pain. “yes, it is. it breaks my heart to see you this way.”

he rolls his eyes, looking away from you. “oh don’t pity me.”

“i’m not pitying you.”

he stands suddenly, hands balling into fists at his side. “you care so much, don’t you?” he yells. you can hear the anger, the pain in his voice. but it’s not for you, no. it’s for her. and it always has been. he was never ready to let her go, never ready to start with someone new. and it was clear to you now, in this moment. he wasn’t your simon.

with one final glance at him, you give him a smile. it’s a smile with a million different meanings. a smile on the good memories you shared with him. a smile of sadness for losing the man you fell in love with. a smile of anger for the pain he dragged you along into. a smile of acceptance that he never was yours. and a smile of compassion. for hoping that the man before you could find peace, could let himself heal from the pain of losing the one he truly loved.

you tossed and turned on the couch feeling the minutes and hours pass by. you groaned into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut as little angry tears fell. you hated arguing with simon, but like every couple, you had your up’s and down’s. after many failed attempts at sleeping, you quietly got up from the couch, sniffling. you could never fall asleep without him next to you, growing accustomed to the feeling of his warmth holding you at night.

you silently opened the door to your bedroom, seeing simon’s sleeping form. you walked a bit closer. his eyes were shut and he let out soft breaths as his chest moved. “s-si?” you whispered shakily. simon was a pretty light sleeper, always listening out for the slightest of sounds on the field. his eyes opened immediately, relaxing when they landed on you. he sat up quickly, a look of concern drawn across his face. “what is it, lovie? what’s wrong?” he mumbled hoarsely.

every ‘welcome home’ starts the same. you stand in the hallway smiling up at him, waiting for him to come to you. he grunts and grumbles all the way to your open arms, immediately melting into your warm body with a heavy sigh. a soft kiss pressed to your forehead along with a muffled “missed you baby girl.”

he was sitting on the couch, arm slung over the top of it. legs spread, waiting patiently for you to finish up in the bedroom. he wore a nice pair of black dress pants and a fitted, black sweater. “ko?” you called out to him from the bedroom. the 6’10 man was immediately up and walking over to your sweet voice.

“what is it, my liebling?” he spoke softly before looking at you. your hair was perfectly curled, loose strands tucked behind your ears. your cheeks were rosy, and a small smile played on your red lips. “can you help me zip?” you asked him turning around to show him the back of your dress. konig internally groaned at the sight of you in a slim, fitting black dress. curves hugged perfectly and your soft back on display.

being a part of the 141 (+konig) and having to dress up in disguise for a mission in some rich, fancy casino. the boys are waiting on you, talking amongst themselves.

you walk out wearing a slim black dress, low neckline exposing the top of your cleavage. the dress is fitted to your curves and loose at the bottom to hide the pistol strapped around your thigh. you’re looking down, smoothing out your dress, you don’t notice how every head snaps up at the first sound of your heels on the hard floor.

you don’t notice the way ghost straightens up from leaning on the table, arms still crossed and mask hiding the red creeping up to his cheeks. you don’t notice the way konig shifts awkwardly on his feet, blue eyes darting up and down not knowing where to look. you don’t notice the way gaz bites his lip, almost hard enough to break through the soft flesh and draw blood. you hear soap let out an exaggerated breath, a quick “godda-“ before he’s cut off by a smack to the back of the head from price.