Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar)
Chapters: 2/2
Notes: Why yes I am writing a final Ghost and Jag fic after three years, funnily I wrote my fiancé into existence via these fics, this is ever as much our happy ending as it is Ghost and Jag's, This will be Ghost and Jag's final fic so I hope you guys enjoy and thanks for being a part of this crazy fic writing adventure!
PART ONE | AO3 | MASTERLIST
Everything continued to be a blur. You had no concept of day or night, what was real or in your head. You thought you dreamed of Simon and his rough hands brushing the sweaty hair out of your face, but your eyes were too heavy and you were too cold, and you wanted out, out, out. Your entire soul ached from shivering and the illness, and the dreaded nausea never left you.
When you came-to again, daylight was streaming through the closed blinds. You could make out their shadows on the floor from your viewpoint in the bathtub, and the constant noise of the outside seemed louder than ever. A faint smell of cigarette smoke wafted into the bathroom as you mustered enough strength to dry heave into the toilet again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and laid back down, closing your eyes.
The sound of heavy footsteps triggered alarms in your brain, but you were so drained you couldn’t even move to get your knife from your bag. Truthfully, you had made peace with dying already but more importantly, you simply couldn’t be fucked.
“If you’re gonna do it, just do it already. Beats this fucking fever,” you rasped into the other room, eyes still closed. The footsteps continued, followed by the sound of straining fabric.
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
You opened your eyes to your Ghost squatted on the floor next to the tub and simply stared at him. He had his mask off, as was now normal with you.
“Is this real?” you tried to focus on him but found it hard.
“Sure is, luv,” he replied in his basso voice.
You wanted to cry for some reason, but didn’t have the energy so you simply stared at the ceiling, eyelids flittering.
“You’re alright, luv, you’re alright,” he said tenderly, brushing the hair from your forehead.
“No Simon, I’m not,” you said hoarsely, “I’m fucked.” Furrowing your brows and closing your eyes, you exhaled. “Can you put out that cigarette?”
“S’already out, Jag.”
“Hmm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, before reaching your hand out for his. He took yours in his large one and squeezed lightly. “Thought you were in Pakistan with Soap,” you finally managed.
“I was. Finished up our work two days ago when Price called. Said you hadn’t been checkin’ in.”
You sighed. Five and a half days of this shit. It was any wonder you were still alive.
“Got you some meds on my way ‘ere,” Ghost said. “Your fever’s finally breaking, luv.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter. “Had us all a bit worried though.”
Us, you thought. Soap and Gaz were a given but was Price included in that too? you wondered.
“Why didn’t you get some meds?” He moved closer to you.
“I was focused on the mission,” you sighed.
“This fever was serious, Jag. The mission could ‘ave waited.”
“I agree, Simon. I’ve been thinking that too.” You didn’t mean to come off as cold as you did, but it happened all the same. You hesitated before finishing, “I want out.”
Simon went silent for a long time and simply stared at your hand in his.
“I mean this, Simon. All of it,” you finally looked at him again. “These missions. The 141. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want out.”
You studied your lovers face and searched his brown eyes for understanding, but whether it was your fever or his concealment, you were having trouble deciphering what he was thinking. You felt his walls coming up again and you hated it. He let go of your hand.
Leaning his head back against the sink, Ghost stared at the wall as he took it all in. Losing Jag. Losing the one person—the one thing— that made him feel again after becoming the Ghost. You watched his chest seize as he tried to tamp down the waves of panic bubbling up inside of him. You reached back out for his hand, and slowly he gave it back to you.
“Haven’t you ever wanted a life outside of this?” you asked softly, mustering the energy to turn your body toward him. He couldn’t look at you—couldn’t control the heat that flushed his cheeks. His jaw was so tense. “There’s a whole other life out there. One for us.”
There was a long silence as Ghost continued to contemplate it all.
“You don’t have to keep going through the horrors, Simon. You’ve put in your time.” Pulling his hand toward your chest, you kissed his forearm and held it there. “We can be happy,” you murmured into his skin, but it came out more of a plea. “We can be free.”
“Free…” he mulled the word over. “Wouldn’t know where to start,” Simon finally said a bit shakily. He looked at you, gaze intense. “What am I without this?”
“Simon,” you said plainly. He blinked. “Not Ghost, just Simon.”
“Hmph,” he grunted. “‘Aven’t been him in a long time, Jag.”
“I see him though,” you responded, “see him right now—” but another wave of nausea took over and you pulled yourself to the toilet to heave. Simon ran his warm hand up and down your back as you tried to throw up anything in your stomach. No such luck though. Defeated, you rested yourself on the rim of the toilet.
“Help me,” you groaned.
You heard his rich, deep chuckle that always made your chest tighten a bit in response.
“You’re alright, luv,” he sighed softly, rubbing your back. Most of the tension from minutes ago dissolving. “I’m ‘ere. Couple more days of this but I think the worst is over.”
“Please,” you begged. You withdrew back to the tub and pulled the blanket over you. Simon ran some cool water over a rag and placed it on your head.
Humming in agreement, you closed your eyes again and tried to shut off your brain. It was surprisingly easy in your current state, and Simon stayed on the floor next to you, lost in his thoughts.
A wave of relief washed over you when later in the day Ghost mentioned that Gaz had found another lead to Viraj’s operations. Price had called while you were out saying to pack it up and head back to base. The nausea and fever were also starting to go down, but your body still ached through to your bones and soul, and all you wanted to do was leave this fucking safe-house and city. Ghost had brought back some canned soup and forced you to have a little, which you nearly threw up again, but managed to swallow a few drops. He was incredibly patient and gentle the whole time as he attempted to spoon feed you, and you wondered if anyone in the history of his existence ever got to witness this side of him—this gentle beast of a man. You decided no one had and you felt extremely fortunate that you were.
“Can you help me shower?” you managed, later that night. “I smell so horrible.”
Simon cracked the briefest smile in agreement, then said, “Got to get rid of this… nest first, luv.”
It hurt to laugh but you couldn’t help yourself. “I know. It’s horrid.”
You managed to sit up enough so that Simon could gather the pillow and blankets around you. He helped you out of your clothes (the pants were the most difficult), and turned on the faucet. Even though he was gentle, the feeling of the soapy washcloth was like a steel wire brush on your skin as Simon gave you a makeshift shower. He wiped down your body and washed your hair, being as soft as he could. You kept your eyes closed as he cupped water over your head to rinse the suds away. You brushed your teeth in the tub too, which revived a little piece of your soul. When he finished, he pressed his lips onto your forehead and you let the weight of you lean into his kiss.
“Think you’re ready for the actual bed? There’s a bowl next to it, just in case.”
“Try my best,” you sighed, managing to stand as Simon wrapped you in a towel. He easily carried you over to the small bed and positioned you with just enough room for him to fit on it too. You felt so tired, yet miles better in his big arms. You closed your eyes and breathed in tandem with your colossus next to you.
“I can hear you thinking,” you said after a while, eyes still closed. Simon simply grunted in agreement.
You heard his lips part a few times, but then he finally said, “What would we do?”
Half-lidded, you stared at the beautiful man. Took in all the scars on his face, his blonde hair; it had grown out a little since the last time you saw him.
“What would make you happy?”
He pondered the question for a while before finally replying, “Somethin’ with dogs.”
“Mmm,” he hummed and looked at you.
A smile spread across your face. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Yeah,” and a crack of a smile broke on his face too.
He turned to you, and stroked your hair softly. Despite the ache of your body, you felt completely at peace like this. You wanted it to last forever.
“And where would you like to live?”
“Hmm,” Simon wondered. “Someplace sunny.”
“I think we can manage that.” You closed your eyes again and let the exhaustion seep in. Before you fell asleep, you murmured, “I love you, Simon.”
You felt his lips on your forehead again.
The sound of birds chirping filled the air around your new house. It was a simple thing, but on a large plot of land with lots of trees and even a small creak nearby. Dozens of dogs were running around in the field, barking and playing, and you sat back in your chair, watching Simon through your sunglasses. He was pacing around aimlessly, with Soap and Gaz on the phone. Although he had a falling out with Price when he left (and if Simon took it hard he didn’t show you much), it was nice that the boys still wanted to keep in touch.
“Can’t say I miss it,” Simon said.
“Mate, you’re tellin’ me that you don’t miss a sausage roll? Bangers and mash?” Gaz asked over speakerphone.
“Nope, eatin’ pretty good here,” he replied, shooting a glance in your direction.
“Where’s your patriotism,” Gaz joked, despondently.
“Truly. Cunt leaves for a few months and it’s ‘oh, I’ve got better things to do than get shot at and eat great food from the SAS's finest mess hall’,” Soap chimed in.
“Anyway, I‘ve got to go. Jag’s in a sun dress and needs all my undivided attention.”
The boys groaned in unison on the other end of the phone.
“Christ alive,” Soap laughed. “Try not to scare the neighbors with how loud you get.”
But Simon just hung up the phone and made his way back to you. He knelt down and started kissing up your bare legs.
“Think the heat is gettin’ to me, luv.”
“Is that right?” You said, running your fingers through his much blonder hair now.
“Mmmhmm,” he hummed between your thighs, breathing in the scent of you.
“Well, we surely must do something about that,” you teased, as he deftly hooked his arms under your thighs and hoisted you up around his torso. He started carrying you back into the house, and all you could do was giggle into his needy kisses. You really liked this new life.
------
AAAA thank you guys so much for reading and journeying along on this amazing journey with me. I was inspired a bit by Evil Price from the latest COD trailer, so that's why he and ghost had a falling out at the end.
@deadbranch @solidly-indulgent @aalxrose @dotcie @thepowers-kat-be
titsay
stormborns
snowghoul
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
annaxmalina
