#task force 141 and y/n snaps | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moongreenlight · 8 months

Note

I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.

Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻

ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.

Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.

If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.

He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.

It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.

He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.

So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.

And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.

The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.

You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.

He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.

He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.

Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.

He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.

The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.

Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.

But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.

He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.

Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.

Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.

It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.

Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.

And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.

Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.

Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.

He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.

The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.

But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.

“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”

Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.

“‘Course.”

Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.

Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.

“How long you been keepin’ this in?”

“Which bit.”

His response was flat.

“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”

Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.

“Don’t push it.”

Simon bit back.

“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”

“Johnny.”

“Looks ready’ta pop.”

A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.

“Few months.”

They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.

“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.

“Hope not.”

Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.

“Boy o’ girl?”

This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.

“Girls.”

#this had me giiiiiiiiiggling and kicking my feet anon thank you #self indulgent dad!simon fluff #picturing him with twin baby girls I’m tearing my hair out holy shit #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #secret wife

1K notes · View notes

victoryverse · 4 months

Note

crying screaming begging the lord himself for this-

imagine simon has a wife, he been had a wife, a military so and so who ranks wayyyyy above him -

she visits the base and everyone’s treating her with the utmost respect and formality until she passes simon who js,, casually offers her a cigarette, like ???? as if she’s not super massive important formal person number one ?

i’m here for the shock and awe,, everyone just being so completely caught off guard by them

“wh whahbwhh wh?????!!!!???”

“oh yea that’s my wife btw”

y/n riley

i really liked this idea anon >.< thank you for sending this!!! hope you like this <33

. . .

Simon Ghost Riley, the infamous and elusive member of Task Force 141, had always been a mystery to his team. He was a man of few words, a deadly sniper with a dark past, and someone who could disappear without a trace. But what his team didn't know was that behind the tough exterior, Simon had a soft spot for one special person - his wife, Y/n.

Y/n was a high-ranking military officer, a woman who had worked her way up the ranks with her intelligence, bravery, and unwavering dedication to her country. She and Simon had met during a classified mission, and it was love at first sight. Despite their dangerous jobs and the constant threat of danger, they had managed to build a strong and loving relationship.

But their love was a secret, known only to a select few in the military. So when Y/n decided to surprise Simon by visiting him at the base, the reactions of his teammates were nothing short of comical.

As she walked through the base, every soldier and officer stood at attention, saluting her as she passed by. Even Captain Price, known for his stoic demeanor, couldn't help but gape at the sight of her. But it was Simon's reaction that was the most surprising.

As Y/n approached him, Simon casually took out a cigarette and offered her one. The other soldiers were stunned, their mouths hanging open in disbelief. Did Ghost just offer a cigarette to a high-ranking officer? But Y/n just smiled and took the cigarette, her eyes never leaving Simon's.

The team was in shock as Simon and Y/n walked hand in hand, laughing and talking as if they were the only ones in the base. Even Soap, who had always been the closest to Simon, couldn't believe his eyes.

'Wh-what is going on here?' he stuttered, looking at his teammates for an explanation.

'I have no idea,' replied Konig, equally confused.

But as Simon and Y/n approached them, they all snapped back to attention, saluting Y/n as she stood by Simon's side.

'Boys, this is my wife, Y/n,' Simon said with a proud smile.

The team couldn't believe their ears. Simon Ghost Riley, the man of mystery, had a wife? And not just any wife, but a high-ranking military officer?

Y/n greeted them all with a warm smile, introducing herself and making them feel at ease. As they all sat down to chat, they couldn't help but ask about their relationship.

'How did you guys meet?' asked Soap, still in shock.

Simon and Y/n shared a look before Simon spoke up. 'We met during a mission in Afghanistan. Y/n was part of a team sent to assist us, and let's just say, she caught my eye.'

The team was in awe of their love story, and as they listened to them talk and laugh, they realized that Simon was a completely different person when he was with Y/n. He was happy, carefree, and even cracked a few jokes.

As the day went on, the team got to know Y/n better and realized that she was not just a high-ranking officer but also a kind, down-to-earth person. And as they saw the love and affection between Simon and Y/n, they couldn't help but feel happy for them.

From that day on, Y/n became a regular visitor at the base, and the team welcomed her with open arms. She brought a new light to their lives, and they were grateful to have her as part of their family.

And as for Simon, he had found his true partner in life, someone who understood and accepted him for who he was. He knew that with Y/n by his side, he could face any mission and come back home to her.

Their love story may have started amid chaos, but it had blossomed into a beautiful and unbreakable bond. And for Simon Ghost Riley, there was nothing more valuable than the love of his life, his wife Y/n.

. . .

tags: @ilovehobi101

631 notes · View notes

joe-leviari · 3 months

Text

Simon Ghost Riley is annoyed.

" So you ended up working together, you ended up helping one another, you ended up not liking each other. " || Ghost listens in to you having sex ||

for adults only; NSFW; sexual themes; stalker!Ghost; smut; other COD characters briefly mentioned; backstory for main character; afab!reader x konig; no use of y/n; English is not my first language, feel free to privately message me to correct any mistakes.

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, they need you.

You being the highly-trained-deadly-skilled-gun-for-hire of a now nearly collapsed criminal enterprise, and the only one left alive with the intel that they need.

But that’s alright, because, as it turns out, you need them.

Them being the task force 141, the very same that has been sistematically dismantling the above mentioned criminal empire and hunting down the above mentioned highly-trained-deadly-skilled-gun-for-hire. Little-fucking-nuisance, according to Simon.

So you ended up working together, you ended up helping one another, you ended up not liking each other.

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, judging by the way Gaz has been telling you stories from his childhood, the way Price has been calling you silly nicknames through the crackling comms, and the way Soap has taken the habit to fully lean into you every time you show him something stupid on your phone, the only one who doesn’t really like you is Ghost himself.

Not liking you is fine; that’s something he can deal with for the simple fact that he does not really have to deal with it. Disliking you is a mere subjective perception that he acknowledges in passing, almost distractingly, when he lays his eyes on you. The real problem is that he does not fucking trust you. Now that’s something he has to deal with; that’s HIS duty, that’s HIS team.

Sure, you are constantly monitored, they are not stupid: you have lived most of your life like a criminal, surrounded by criminals. You have the resources, the knowledge, and fairly good reasons to fuck them over. That’s why you are never left alone and never trusted to carry any weapons unless strictly necessary. Your location is always traced, your heartbeat is polygraph-tested every time you have to be questioned. The thing is, you were very well made aware of all this when you signed on the dotted line the day that Laswell came to see you in the prison’s infirmary.

A few days later, there you were, with a bruised face and an even more bruised ego, getting yourself nice and comfy in the room down the hall.

So it was for the sake of HIS team that Simon had to break into the room down the hall to carefully bug it. With a bit of patience, he will find something compromising that will force Laswell - who seemed to take a shine on you for whatever bloody reason - to send you back to prison. Or anywhere else, really, as long as you were out of sight. And with that, out of mind.

Much to Ghost's annoyance, you moan differently than he expected. Simon assumed, definitely assumed, and NEVER fantasized that you would moan like a fucking pornstar.

No, this… This is something entirely different. And now that it thinks about it, it is more like you. You have a wicked sweetness about you, the kind that makes men want to either break you or protect you.

You have the cheekiness that gets you in trouble—the same one that gets you out of it. Ghost adjusts the ear buds in his ears and draws his eyebrows together.

The man on you (behind you? Under you? Most definitely inside you) is babbling, grunting, and moaning, visceral and guttural. And you... You sound breathy and airy and wet and light. In a delicate voice, you are giving him directions, but you have to repeat yourself a few times before he snaps out of his daze and complies. And when he finally does, oh, you are all praise.

How the fuck did he menage to get into your pants? And why, on God’s green earth, would you let him?

Ghost has witnessed you flirt before: sometimes you were just doing your job, other times you were having fun dancing with recruits in bars, flashing them a little smile with a pretty blush on your face. You were quick to throw them a bait and even quicker to retrieve it. “Don’t push your luck, soldier” you would say with an easy grin. Cheeky little thing.

Simon would scoff at your antics and at the men and women who would fall for your little act. That’s why he is so surprised now, because with you, everything seems to be either an act or a transaction. I’ll give you what you need if you offer me something better first.

That’s what he thought you were doing with Konig when he caught you complimenting his skills and commenting on his strength. Just being smart, just trying to have one more ally.

But the way you were panting, mewling, and pleading told him a different story. You could not be trusted. And now HIS team is in danger because you couldn’t keep your legs shut. Are your legs actually wide open? Are they on his shoulders? No, Ghost is not thinking about your legs. Instead, he is thinking that he wouldn’t need you to give him pointers on how to adjust the rhythm or how to angle himself to hit your sweet spot. With one hand on your mouth, he’d know exactly what to do to you. You wouldn’t need to say please and thank you; you wouldn’t need to be so polite.

Simon is startled when you let out a sudden giggle, immediately followed by a whimper. You are confusing, half crying and half elated, half begging to stop and half begging to continue. It’s intimate—you sound so defenseless, so vulnerable. You are definitely not to be trusted.

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, a little escapade with a fellow soldier is not enough to get you to fuck off somewhere else—somewhere far, far away from him. If that were to be enough, the base would be empty by now. He just has to be a little more patient and wait until he hears you say something compromising to the mercenary (or any other bastard that you’ll let into your bed, for that matter, a slut like you). Eventually you'll let something slip that will put the safety of the team at risk and thwart your credibility in the process.

Ghost is just going to have to endure more of this bullshit, and THAT is what annoys him the most. Not the fact that while listening to you, he is reminded of that one time when you dislocated your shoulder. He lets his focus drift to your moaning, desperately trying to conjure the memory of the way you turned your big, watery eyes on him, looking like a wounded animal. He can see it now; he can hear it now—the barely audible plea that escaped your lips, “Please, please don’t hurt me," as he was grabbing your arm and trying to fix you. It is only a pang in the pit of his stomach that snaps him out of it; he should not find the idea of you getting hurt so damn erotic.

You little fucking nuisance.

#konig #konig cod #call of duty smut #drabbles #angst #smut #mdni #spilled thoughts #my wrtitng #simon ghost riley #fanfic #Simon's feelings series #my writing #konig x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #joe leviari

252 notes · View notes

killsbil · 2 months

Text

His Muse

Pairing : Ghost x Secretary Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, choking, ghost jacking off in his car. Ghost driving for some damn reason

18+ ONLY MDNI

( YES, HETEROCHROMIA GHOST. CRY)

Now, you were a secretary for a special operations force called Task Force 141. While being the secretary, they had strict rules, of course, it wasn't JUST for you, but they weren't anything hard to follow honestly. It's not like you were some damn horny teenager, you were just trying to get by with this job. You wanted some job that could help you real good...and somehow you landed with this one, being the secretary, you only had to organize nearly everything, write reports, and emails, keep up with data, and do whatever Captain Pierce asks of you.

None of the members spoke to you as they never really saw you, well they did, but you didn't pay attention. Your face was always focused on the computer, typing away, but hey? What's a girl gotta do to get by yeah? One task force menber caught your eye, Simon Riley, he was quiet, and when he spoke his voice was cold, a little too serious. But when he looked at you, you wouldn't look back. He was honestly scary looking, honestly, he looked like he could just snap you in half if you said something wrong. You never spoke to him, he's always busy, you're Always busy... and either way, what would you say to him? The only thing you could think about saying was something about his eyes, they were pretty, one eye was brown, the other grayish blue. You had never seen heterochromia in person before, it was beautiful. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that... Right? Y/n had thought, it was not like he would kill her for that.

Noticing the time, and one of the recent emails from Captain Pierce, she had to bring a folder of mission data to the meeting...in that room ..with all those people. That wasn't scary...at all, y/n unlocked her cabinet, reached in the middle for a file, and closed it back, locking it.

She'd walk down the hallway and then turn to her right, knocking on a door, the sign next to the door would read "conference room". Through the window she saw a black male, with short curly hair, he was leaning back in his chair, he turned to her and smiled for a split second. his eyes went back to somebody who was talking, Shortly after the talk was done, y/n was allowed into the room, she walked over to Captain Pierce, placing the folder down as she turned around, she saw an empty chair next to a task force member named soap, he was nice, but all discussions y/n had with him were short. Was that Ghost's chair? Noticing y/n's stare, soap smiled, his other hand which rested behind a chair pointed down the hall.

Usually, he didn't do this, he would ignore her if she came in during meetings because she wasn't supposed to hear a thing about the meetings, y/n snapped out of it as she left, closing the door behind her. Now, she didn't like him like a crush, nor was she a fan of him, she just wanted to tell him her lil compliment.

Y/n went down the hall and turned, seeing a man pour him some coffee, it was a ghost, and he needed a breather. Y/n leaned on the wall as she watched him. Honestly ..he was so.. it was unexplainable but ...the girls that get it, get it. "You just gonna stand there and look stupid?" He said, not even turning around "Oh! Sorry I-'' she was about to explain before he finished her sentence" Didn't mean to," he said..pouring coffee into his coffee cup.

"How did you know what I was gonna say?" She asked him, as she walked closer, leaning on the counter "Cause that's what every secretary before you said " he said, his voice was cold, it was like he was just...tired of playing this game, over and over. "Every secretary before me? What happened to them?" Y/n asked, now...she was curious! She had forgotten all about her compliment. Ghost would let out a sigh as he turned around. "they all got terminated, fired. Breaking rules.. or they were spies" he said, he had some skull balaclava on, not the full mask, ghost would place his cup down leaning on the counter.

"you're gonna end up just like them, you're gonna take a bribe and spy, or break that rule." He added on, he read her like a book, y/n though, she scrunched up her face in confusion, somehow feeling a little disrespectful "Okay mr mysterious" she said with a slight eye roll. "Ghost." He corrected her, his voice firm "Lieutenant ghost." He said. Y/n's eyes widened when she realized his rank, now she felt a little demotion coming for that eye roll. Ghost's face was blank, with no expression, just those eyes staring at her as if he was reading her like a book. " What rule did they break" Y/n was a little interested in the lore now.. she was glad she was on break, otherwise Captain Pierce would have her head.

"Someone lacks critical thinking skills.." he mumbled, who invited him to the bitch fest? "No dating rule. They come up to me just like you did ...no ill intent, ask questions...then there's that compliment, and it starts something" he said, each word he got close to her, y/n leaned back against the counter as his hands rested on the counter, trapping her, his eyes stared down at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm gonna say this once... Don't treat this like it's some game like you can just sway a coworker with this innocent act, be professional" he said, he was tired. But was he tired of those girls just .. treating him like he was an award, an object for pleasure, or just....the betrayal, tired of having hope, letting someone close, and then...boom.

Well, the answer was he was just... Tired of the unprofessionalism "Huh -" y/n noticed how close he was, her heart beat so damn fast, hell! She wasn't trying to seduce him, she just wanted to give him that compliment." I...I just wanted to say your eyes are pretty. I never saw them up close. I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to pursue you Lieutenant" she said, and ghost was wrong, well, half wrong. He shook his head "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Run along." He said turning his back to her and going back to his coffee...

Y/n was so confused...what the hell? She was NOT trying to seduce this man," um...right." she said walking back to her desk, part of her kind of liked that. But the other part was so damn confusing. Now, for the rest of her break, she was on the phone with her best friend until...she felt her phone vibrate, from a text message.. sent an unknown number. "Girl hold on...some number just texted me..." She said, putting her on speaker, "bitch don't you have it where unsaved numbers can't contact you??" She said, "Girl yes I do, that's why I'm confused."

She looked at the text message reading You're Loud. we can hear you down here. Now she knew it wasn't Captain Pierce because she had his number saved. "Is it your boss?" She asked "No? I have his number saved, remember he gave us that ride back to my house?" Y/n said "Oh shit...right Anyway, when is he gonna let me climb that tree-" she said "Bye Audrey, you are not getting me fired because you're sexually attracted to my boss- WHO COULD BE YOUR DAD," y/n said "call me a panther. I'm ready to take it..." Audrey said. "Bye ...get off my phone.. you're distracting me, I'll see you later." Y/n hung up on her sighing

She was a hot mess, Audrey was the friend with no filter, but anyway. She would look at the message rolling her eyes a little, y/n texted the number back saying Sorry about that, but who is this and how did you get my number? only for it to be left on read for about 50 minutes. She just rolled her eyes going back to organizing meetings and events. She hummed, and of course..responding to emails, she kind of neglected them.

Shortly after that, her phone lit up as she got a text message that said Lieutenant Ghost. with that she saved the contact. She wanted to mess with him a little, to ease the weird tension between them Responding 56 minutes later? now nice of you. She would text him. Yes, she thought she ate that. This time she got a quick response It's disrespectful to be on your phones during meetings, and you're counting the minutes Ms L/n? Y/n saw that, was she just eaten up respectfully? And Ms? SHE'S NOT EVEN MARRIED? Oh.. you could just call me Y/n, and I'm not married Lieutenant.. it would be Miss.. she would respond to his text Yeah YEAH she ate him up. noted. Would be the last text message he even sent.

soon came the end of the day, when everyone left, y/n was the only one left she had to stay back and respond to some emails, once she was done she'd lock her computer and would put any paperwork she left out, back in the respective drawers, when she went to the door she had seen the rain attacking the streets, this caused a loud annoyed groan from y/n, she didn't bring a damn umbrella cause she swore it wouldn't rain today. She suddenly felt someone behind her... who was left here? Was she not alone? As soon as she turned, she saw that it was Lieutenant Ghost, holding an umbrella at her "How far is your car..." He said. Now he didn't want her getting drenched in the rain, that's the nicest he could be at least "Oh no- my friends picking me up..." She said, smiling. That smile unthawed that heart of his, just a little. " It's 11:00 pm L/n, normal people are asleep by now," he said.

"So...you're not normal?" She asked, her smile getting wider, ghost just raised an eyebrow.."let me take you home." He said opening the door for her, he didn't exactly answer that question of hers ``You can drive? Gaz said ...you can't drive, you shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel" She said, if you saw the look on y/n's face, she looked horrified. "Do you want a ride home or do you want a sneak peek at the next little mermaid." He was getting drenched waiting for her, y/n laughed at his comment, and she stepped under the umbrella and followed him to his car, which was an eight-seater, and she mumbled sorry since she felt bad for him getting drenched. Ghost just got in behind the wheel, y/n turned to him asking him a question "Hey... Lieutenant... How come you're staying back?? Wouldn't you be sleeping about this time?" She asked "I could ask you the same, but I was getting training in.. that's all," he said, but the look on his face said differently.

Now ghost? He took care of his body, he had...muscle, a lot of it.. it was even visible when he wasn't flexing. Y/n would stare at his arms and hands as he drove, then slowly, her eyes moved back to his very own beautiful eyes. "Are you sure? You have this look on your face... Like you're not here mentally.." She said, Ghost stopped at a light, turning to her "You know, some questions aren't supposed to be asked," he said. "Well- I'm here for" "No you're not." He corrected her, internally, Ghost felt like he couldn't speak to anyone, it was a waste of time. "you can't handle anything I would tell you. that's if I did." He said, shaking his head, "How come? I'm helpful- I can handle it." She said " No." He repeated. "Please - I promise I can lift a weight off your shoulders" she begged, she wanted to help him, she felt like he could use a friend honestly "No. I'm not gonna say it again." Ghost said, sounding annoyed.

"Everyone does- "Y/n tried to speak, but she got cut off " Y/N. For the last time no, don't waste your time. You'd only hurt yourself..you'd be useless in this situation" He said, his voice like a stab directly into the heart, after that, y/n got quiet..then she furrowed her eyebrows turning to him "You don't need to be rude." She said Ghost looked confused, he didn't expect her to talk back "And I'm not useless... I'm a great listener! I don't know why but, ever since I've talked to you, you've done nothing but assume the worst about me. I just want to be your friend!" She said, Ghost started driving again, going silent before he deeply sighed "Colleagues, especially us, can't be friends. You're gonna be just like-" "I'm not like them- I don't wanna use you like a boy toy! I just think you're cool for fucks sake !" Y/n was starting to get so damn tired of his mindset.

"I understand you have this...wound but you can't just make it seem like I'm some weirdo... I'm not gonna befriend you, sleep with you, then leave! I think you're cool! " She said, "Besides, friends don't do any of that!" She added nodding. "If I say yes, are you gonna stop asking to be my friend?" He said, annoyed, he did feel a little better about her now that he knew she wasn't gonna try anything. "Yes!" Said smiling. "Does this mean I get to know your name?" She said, her smile all big.. ghost would let out a large...long dramatic sigh "Simon." He said, "That's a cute name !" She said, going to his contact, and changing his name, Ghost watched her shaking his head "But don't call me that at work. At least keep some professionalism" he said "Does that mean you'll call me by my first name?" She ignored what he said

"Did you hear what I said?" He stopped the car, turning to her with a serious look" Yes...." She said, looking away. The whole ride she didn't look him in the eyes, Ghost noticed that "look at me ." He asked, instead y/n would turning to look at a tree, Ghost would park between two cars as he gripped the girl's jaw, making her look at him. "What did I say?" He asked her, y/n stared in his eyes, fuck. She got nervous, butterflies filled her stomach as she bit her lips "Umm.. call you Lieutenant something. During work ...professional stuff..yeah." she said. Suddenly the tension between them got hot..

Ghost sighed, looking at her pretty lips a little too long.. "fuck.." he said"what... Do I have something on my face?" She said furrowing her eyebrows, confused "Nah..." He said just ..staring, was he gonna kiss her? "Hey- I mean...if you wanna kiss me .. do it, yolo?" She said, honestly she thought 3 things were gonna happen, he headbutts the fuck out of her, kisses her, or or or. Well, scratch those two things.

"That'd be unprofessional.." he said, his eyes never leaving her lips. "Oh for fucks sake then fire me for this." She lifted his mask to his lips, kissing him, and she held his face. The next thing you knew she was on his lap making out with the masked man, it got hot...he gripped her waist as her kiss got serious. A moan came from y/n as Ghost's hand slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Suddenly y/n heard her name being called, she snapped out of it looking at ghosts.

"Bloody hell. You look like you just saw a ghost." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion "I'm sorry Lieutenant, what were you saying..?" Y/n said blinking a couple of times "I said did you hear what I said?" He said "Oh yeah ..professionalism." she said, sighing "No, I asked you for your address?" Now Ghost was confused "What's with you? You were just staring off?" He said, looking her up and down. "Nothing...I could've just sworn... Something had happened. But it didn't? I was just imagining it." Y/n said, "But I live...." She told him his address, she only lived a couple blocks down from him.

Eventually, y/n and ghost pulled up to her pretty house, she watched the rain fall with a smile, and then she turned to Ghost "Hey.. I have a question lieutenant.." she said "Simon, we are out of work.." he said, this girl fought to be his friend and get the privilege of knowing and calling him by his name... Now she's not? "But lieutenant sounds better," she said, aggravating Simon, and she knew she was. "God, you're annoying..what is it? What's your question" he said, sighing.. he was getting used to y/n honestly.. She was cute in a sense.

"Can we take a photo ? I wanna put it in your contact.. " she said, Ghost sighed "..." He looked at her, and the look he gave told her no, but ... She wanted a yes, she pleaded, doing the little look and all "fine." Ghost, a dog trained to kill mercilessly, cracked to a secretary pleading for a photo "but don't show anyone it. Got it?" He said

"Thank you, Simon!" She giggled and hugged him, this caught Him off guard, he wasn't.. the type of person who did physical affection, but his arms wrapped around her, hugging her back as a part of him wanted to cry, she felt so nice and warm. Something so comforting, he had the urge to protect her, the urge to lock her in a cage and keep her all to himself. "Ghost..?" She said as he spaced out, his head resting on her shoulder, his grip was firm but allowed her to move

she pulled back slightly reaching for his face, and that's when his eyes snapped to her, he released her looking away.. suddenly y/ns giggle was heard "You're a hugger." She said, "I'm a soldier." He replied she shook her head "No no, deep down that hug, you cherished it..that moment was something you're gonna remember" she said, he rolled his eyes turning his head to him"What are you- some psychologist?" He squinted.

"Oh no - I went to college for ( insert major of your choice) I could never do psychology! But my friend Audrey is a psychologist so I know a couple of things." She said proudly, Ghost nodded, he knew to remember Audrey "Come on and take this picture..you got some sleep to get." He said, "Aww you care!" She said messing with him. "Y/n." He said, "Okay okay!" She laughed, his care filled with her joy and giggles... Something for a change ... Maybe she wasn't like the others, well he hoped so.

She leaned in, getting him in the frame, but he barely was in it "Oh let me readjust!" She said she moved a little, and it didn't fix. This process went on for 6 minutes. "Note to self.. don't let y/n take pictures ." He sighed "Just... Sit on my lap for the picture." He said. Y/n grew flustered, "but I could crush you-" she said trying to find a better alternative, Ghost looked offended " ' I can lift you easy, you'll find out someday..But hurry up." She said,

she sighed, climbing into his lap hovering, getting ready to take the picture, ghost glared, putting his hands onto her waist as he forced her down with ease as if she was some kind of lightweight to him." see. not that hard to sit down and listen. Atta girl, now take the picture." He said, atta girl? Sit down and listen. Y/n was flustered by his words... Whew lord she needed to act right .. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she took the picture smiling. She didn't know what Ghost did, but she took it.

Y/n had accidentally dropped her phone, she moved back against Ghost as she bent down while sitting on him "What are you doing-" he said, his heart dropping as he felt her right above something she shouldn't be on. "Well I dropped my phone, so he still!" She said she was the only one moving around, god, she didn't mean to grind but she was doing it! Ghost bit down on his lips as he resisted the urge to just.. thrust up, suddenly he felt her warmth...that didn't help. "Y/n... Please just ...look normally.." he said, his voice cracking

"Shut up I almost got it!" She said, her lower body hovering above the said area before roughly sitting down, this made Ghost tilt his head up as he roughly gripped her waist forcing her to sit up. "Have you got that damn phone yet?" He said, his chest heaving up and down. "Yeah! I got it as soon as you pulled me up, thanks again for the ride Simon, I'll pay you back I promise...are you gonna watch me go in my house?" She asked, Simon just nodded as he watched her get up, and out of the car leaving to go inside her house

GHOST POV

fuck... I know she didn't mean to do that but... Shit. Why am I so riled up over something like that? Get it together lieutenant. He thought, he looked down at his boner as he sighed...she's in her house ...and it's not like y/n could see through his windows. He sighed, unbuckling his pants, and pulling down his boxers just to see his erect cock spring out, pre cum nearly leaking out, he removed his gloves sighed, closed them strokes his shaft. You're probably wondering what he imagined, of course, it was y/n, he tilted his head back only to see y/n bouncing on his cock, a moaning and teary mess.

He bucked his hips up into his hand as he visualized how pretty her boobs would look bouncing every time she did, looking down just to see a bulge , he was the one causing it. Her whines and moans, her pleading for him to go faster, rougher, to choke her. And he did just that, then...a word came out. "love you so much!" she said, instead of shocking ghost, in this scenario he took his mask off begining to mark her up with bite marks and hickeys. Y/n gripped his short blonde shaggy hair. His thrusts became passionate as he Whined "so good..so good .. nice and warm for me" he said in a shakey voice... Finally, he came A little too much, the little scenario ended as he opened his eyes to him being in his car parked out by y/ns house, he cleaned himself up. Simon has a moment of clarity... He just sighed, before speaking to himself "I'm setting myself up again..." He said before fixing himself, driving off.

234 notes · View notes

owlcomics101 · 17 days

Text

”Pup Cup.” Task force 141 x Dog hybrid!reader

Warnings: Sfw (I am a minor), fluff, swearing/cussing, Doggo shenanigans

To say you were spoiled would be an understatement. Granted you were a great dog hybrid. Despite being a golden retriever/human hybrid to which are rarely to not used at all in the military. Yet here you are, the rare ray of sunshine in task force 141. Your tail always wags when someone walks by or even glances at you. Military dog hybrids don’t usually like or play fetch but your OBSESSED with it. After missions there’s always a tennis ball in your mouth. Which annoys the hell out of everyone if there’s a squeaker in it but they never have the heart to take it from you, but out of everything there was one time during an undercover mission Soap gave you a “Pup cup” from a Starbucks you and him were at (basically whipped cream in a small cup). Ever since then, every time the team drove by a Starbucks you would go absolutely ballistic! Today was no different. The team was just wanting a little ‘pick me up’ from Starbucks to help get their day going on the way to base. You were sandwiched between Soap and Ghost. Your tail wagging like crazy and slapping Ghost repeatedly which was clearly pissing him off. Soap on the other hand couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as Ghost grabs your tail to get you to stop.

“Y/N! Calm yourself.” Ghost said with a clear scowl on his face behind his mask. You couldn’t help but let out an audible yip when he grabbed your tail.

“Sorry lieutenant.” You mumbled before your ears perk up when you heard Price start order the team’s drinks at the drive through. Price squints his eyes as he looks at the menu before clearing his throat.

“Yes, can I get a—Y/N sit down!” You were trying to poke your head out to the front where Gaz and Price were sitting. Price trying to push you back with his hand before Ghost pulls you back by the shoulders.

“Sit.” Ghost says sternly before looking over and glaring at Soap.

“This is what you get for bloody spoiling them Johnny!” Ghost snaps. Soap scoffs with an eye roll.

“I was just doing it to blend in during that mission. It was one time-“

“One time too many!” Ghost interrupts Soap before Price looks over his shoulder to them.

“Will all you muppets shut up? I’m trying to order!” Price snaps before turning back to the window. Gaz watches you out of the corner or his eyes, seeing the pitiful look on your face.

“Ignore them Gaz or they’ll never learn.” Price says sternly, but Gaz keeps glancing at you every now and then still. The look on your face making his chest feel heavy before he looks away trying to distract himself with his phone. Until he accidentally glances at you before cussing under his breath.

“God dammit-“

“I said stop bloody looking at them Gaz!” Price says before accidentally looking at you himself. You sat there with very sad and watery puppy dog eyes. The water in your eyes making your eyes sparkle a bit from the light’s reflection. Price clenched his fists as he looks away trying t compose himself. He shouldn’t reward such behavior, but this has been the only time you have been out of line. Ghost looks down at you, almost guilty for telling you no-

“Don’t fall for it Simon!” He thinks to himself., he knew it was just the affects of your ‘puppy dog eyes’. Then you started to whimper.

“No, no, no, NO! Don’t beg Y/N!” Price tried to be tough but his tough guy exterior was already cracking. You look at Gaz and he quickly tries to look away.

“Don’t you look at me like that!” Gaz hides himself behind his cap. Soap couldn’t take it anymore. He was fidgeting with his fingers anxious, this felt like pure torture to him before he finally snaps.

“Goddammit-just give them what they want Cap’n!”

“No! I will not reward begging! We do not beg! We are soldiers goddammit!” Price grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He forced himself to look away but you just kept quietly whimpering to yourself until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“GOD FOCKING DAMM-“

You were licking out of your small pup cup, holding it with both your hands, your face completely covered in whipped cream as Ghost every now and then wiped off. Your tail was wagging from pure happiness and bliss but Ghost doesn’t stop it because deep down. He’s secretly enjoying it. Price was visibly pisssd but not at you, more at himself for giving into your ‘puppy eyes’. Gaz was quietly sipping his drink as Soap stroked your head. You have won.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #captain price x reader #task force x reader #task force 141 #task force

189 notes · View notes

salbei-141 · 15 days

Text

Daddy Issues (John Price x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.4k

warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive themes, daddy issues, confession, praise, etc.

a/n: I have exams, but this obviously takes priority (if y'all are doing exams, go revise loves, don't be silly and procrastinate like me, I believe in y'all more than I do me)

I can't lie I may be tempted to write a smutty part 2 to this I dunno...Price is a DILF and I know me and you both got daddy issues - I'm writing Captain Price fanfic after all, and you're consuming it, so I feel like part 2 is may be necessary...

Code name: Scarlet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had missed 48% of your shots today, which was well below your usual average accuracy score. You felt yourself getting frustrated knowing you were better than this - you were a good soldier, you had made it to Task Force 141 all by yourself despite the setbacks.

Reloading your pistol, you moved yourself into the correct position and breathed in deeply, then pulled the trigger. You watched as it hit the outermost line on the target. What was with you today? You stood in silence staring at the target feeling dread crawling up your spine - maybe you weren't as good of a soldier as you'd believed you were. You felt yourself remembering the harsh words of your father reminding you that you were just a useless little girl.

Huffing to yourself, you slammed the gun down in front of you, rubbing your hands over your face, feeling that stinging in your throat. Were you really about to start crying? "Get a fucking grip", you muttered to yourself.

That's when you heard the familiar heavy footsteps of your captain. And before you knew it, his voice was coming from behind you, making you shiver lightly with its deep rumble, "You'll have some catching up to do Scarlet - Gaz and Soap are way ahead of you".

You don't know what it was, but the blatant disappointment in his voice had you wanting to hide away and sob - you were supposed to be his best soldier. The frustration and upset overwhelmed your senses, and you turned to face Price with a stoic expression and snappy tone, "Look can you just fuck off? You think you're making this any easier by standing there and breathing down my neck telling me I'm not good enough?".

He looked surprised - you had never snapped at him like this before, especially in front of other soldiers. He then knitted his brows together, staring deeply into your eyes with a blank expression that felt like the calm before the storm and spoke with a low tone, "Get in my office y/n." He watched as your eyebrows furrowed further and your eyes grew darker, as you went to open your mouth and assumedly defy his order, "Now y/n", you shut your mouth instantly and walked to his office as he towed behind while there was a gentle echo of whispers behind you.

As you opened the door to the office you walked into the centre of the room staring outside the window overlooking the premises. You refused to take a seat - it was defiant, but you also didn't want to get comfortable, you knew you'd fucked up royally.

The fire in you just 5 minutes ago had dwindled - you weren't aggressive to your peers, let alone your superior. But you bit at him - you weren't an aggressive person, just overwhelmed - you hadn't meant it.

You stood rigid and on edge - unsure how Price was going to respond to you. You watched as he rounded you, opting to stand tall in front of you, instead of sitting at his desk as you had hoped for.

"Want to explain what the fuck that was?" He stared down at you with piercing eyes that you were struggling to hold your gaze with his, his voice was gruff and stern.

The fire had dwindled in you completely, and you didn't know what to do or how to respond. You stared up at him looking lost - completely bewildered by your own actions, "I'm...sorry"

He watched as your eyes glazed over, he hadn't expected this when you were raising your voice at him mere moments before.

"What?", his brows furrowed confused by your sudden shedding of tears. You weren't an overly emotional individual and he'd never seen you shed tears during some of your most harrowing missions together.

You looked up at him ashamed - feeling like that useless little girl your father had said you always were, "I said I'm sorry John".

The use of his first name changed everything - it felt informal - he felt like he needed to comfort you as a friend, not as your superior.

"Come here y/n", he beckoned you into his arms, letting you wrap your arms around him and softly cry into his chest. He gently ran his fingers through your hair - unsure of what you needed from him right now, but the calming of your breaths reassured him that he was doing enough.

"What’s wrong?”, he pulled back slightly to see your face - your cheeks had flushed red and your eyes remained glossy with tears.

You shift your eyes around him, trying to avoid his gaze and his question. However, you feel as he gently lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his as he waited for an answer.

“I’m just…overwhelmed”, he raised a brow at this - it was obvious that there was more going on.

“Can you tell me why?”, he sounded so gentle - he genuinely wanted to know - he cared.

You continue holding his gaze feeling the newly familiar burn in your throat as you tried to keep your tears at bay - not that it worked as you felt a few escape and trail down your cheeks again, being caught by John's thumb as he wiped them away.

“Do I disappoint you, John?”

"What?", he looked confused - you were probably his most hard-working soldier - getting this far wasn't easy, and it certainly wouldn't have happened if you were a disappointment.

“Do you ever think that I was a poor choice for 141?”, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing - he’d never doubted your abilities since the day he saw your first induction day to the SAS.

"Not at all love, why?"

"You said that I was falling behind...and my father used to tell me if I wasn't the best then I was just another person wasting everyone's time pretending to be something I wasn't, so I should just give up", you held your breath - never having admitted that.

He held your face gently, "Your father's a fucking idiot then love", you chuckled softly and he smiled seeing this - you weren't the same little girl your father would relentlessly put down; if your 10-year-old self could see you know, she'd be so proud of you, you knew that. John was right - your father was a fucking idiot.

"I couldn't be prouder to have you as a member of 141...but you're more than just a soldier love - I think the only time you've disappointed me was the day you got shit-faced with Johnny after your birthday last year"

You stared at him confused, absentmindedly placing your hands over his wrist that held your face, "Why?"

His tone changed - you'd never heard it come from him, "Because I had planned to ask you out -and finally taste those lips of yours"

Your cheeks felt hot as you blushed, shocked by his confession, "Why haven't you said anything?"

He leaned slightly closer to you, smelling the perfume that clung to your skin, "Lost the courage like the idiot I was"

You smile at him, your eyes having dried from the previous tears, "Well don't be an idiot again".

He chuckled lowly, "Don't plan on it love".

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to meet your lips, kissing you softly, tasting the salt that lingered on your lips. He felt as you gently nipped his lip, feeling the way you smiled into him. He gently pushed you up against his desk, intensifying the kiss, as you both started to feel hotter, your senses overwhelmed by your captain as you felt his body pressed against yours. You gently pushed at his chest, making him pull away and look down at you - your pupils were blown, making him smirk.

"Take me on a date first?"

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and spoke lowly, "Of course love - as much I want to fuck you against my desk right now, I think I'd rather take you out first and fuck you in my bed, hm?"

You blushed hard at him, "Maybe you'll get to fuck me against your desk another time"

"I hope so love", he smirked stepping away and holding his hand out to you, "Best get back out there before someone comes to check on you thinking I've lost it on you, huh?"

You smiled at him stepping around him to leave, "Good girl", you stopped in your tracks, ready to turn back around.

"Didn't tell you to stop", you sighed as you heard his low laugh as you left his office to go back to your target - everything before being forgotten as your Captain preoccupied your mind for the rest of the day.

296 notes · View notes

mrshesh · 9 months

Note

omg can you write how the 141 would react to fem reader (who never wears makeup or dresses up) who has to dress up for a mission at the club? AHGFJ i cant get this out of my head bro im weeping gaz would go RED

"how do i look?" - task force 141 x reader

overview: task force 141 reacting to you getting dolled up for a mission

pairing: task force 141 x fem reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice

a/n: hi anon! YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT GAZ 😭 i loooove this scenario a lot. thanks for the request! i hope you love it teehee :) (and omg johnny's eyes i'm giggling)

x simon "ghost" riley

When Simon’s assigned to go on this mission with you, he’s already cursing under his breath. Clubs have never been his forte–the loud music and crowded, drug and alcohol-filled atmosphere isn’t exactly something he’s comfortable with.

And the fact that you’re supposed to go as his date isn’t helping his case either.

Simon has always had a thing for you. He loves many things about you, but he adores that you stay true to yourself most of all. You always do what you want, never putting in unnecessary energy to please others. He can relate to that–it feels nice to have someone who understands.

And that is one of the reasons why you never wear makeup or dress up. You don’t feel like you have to–not for yourself, not for anyone else.

So he doesn’t know what to expect when he’s standing outside, waiting for you to finish getting ready so you can head out with him.

He’s waiting anxiously, standing with his hands in the pocket of his black hoodie. He finds you beautiful either way, of course. You could be in the most ridiculous outfit known to man, and he’d still be completely enamored by you. But it’s only natural for him to get a reaction to you being all dolled up, right? Anyhow, he’s hoping that he won’t.

“Sorry, I took so long!” You exclaim, running out to him after a few minutes, snapping him out of his thoughts.

The second Simon looks up to meet your eyes, his eyes widen. You look so pretty, so new and confident. He has never seen you this dressed up before, so it’s still kind of weird to him, but you look so gorgeous he can’t take his eyes off you.

“How do I look?” You ask, smiling at him and giving him a spin.

He’s so grateful he’s wearing his mask, or else you would be able to see the intense blush he has on his face.

“Good. Let’s go.” He simply says, looking you up and down before he walks to the driver's seat, trying so hard not to make his attraction to you obvious.

“Just good?” You keep poking at him, smirking as you pick up on his lingering gaze. It’s so undeniable that he’s checking you out. “I spent an hour on my makeup, Lt. I’d appreciate a compliment.” “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” He sighs, turning to you with his piercing cold gaze. But his look doesn’t make your body erupt in goosebumps like it usually would. His eyes are soft even though he’s glaring daggers at you. “You look beautiful. Now let’s go, soldier. We don’t have all day.” “Thank you, Lt.”

Even though he looks fine on the outside, he’s screaming inside. He nearly ran over the curb on the way to the club–that’s how much his mind wandered.

He’s suddenly very protective over you, as well. He knows you can handle your own, but if any man looks at you too long in the club, he’s looming behind you like your shadow, standing close to you as you walk through the crowd.

He checks in on you constantly during the mission. “Anyone annoying you?” “You comfortable?” “Do you need help?” It’s not out of the ordinary for him to check in now and then during missions, but this? It’s almost getting excessive.

After the mission, he’s much calmer and softer. He’s much like his usual self around you, yet he has an element of shyness weighing down on him. He almost seems flustered. That aura will never leave him as long as he has the image of your outfit in his head.

x john "soap" mactavish

When Johnny’s assigned to go on this mission with you, saying he’s excited is an understatement.

He’s going to get to go on a mission with you? And you’re going to be all dolled up? It’s like a dream.

You’re always beautiful to him - like you got sculpted with such care and thought you could present as the main attraction at a museum. He’s always been a gawker, staring at you whenever he can, just drinking your features and imagining what it would be like to hold you.

He will stare no matter what - you’re that stunning to him, and no tactical gear or scrubs could ever deduct from your beauty. But he has never seen you in clubbing attire before. It’s always refreshing to see you in different styles of clothes and disguises. It humanizes you.

So, best believe he’s thrilled that he will see you with a flattering outfit and cute makeup.

He’s standing outside of your door as you get ready. He’s waiting for you so you can go to the mission briefing together. Unbeknownst to him, Johnny won’t be able to focus on the briefing with you next to him.

“You done yet, lass?” He taps his foot on the ground, grumbling as he leans against the wall by your door. “Yeah, give me a minute. They provided me with fuckin’ donut-scented perfume.” You sigh, making Johnny laugh a little. “Donuts smell good, though.” He shrugs. “Luckily…”

“Okay, I’m ready.” You eventually step out, catching Johnny by complete surprise. He hoped he’d get a warning, a minute to prepare himself.

And my God, he needs it.

His jaw instantly drops at the sight of you. It’s safe to say you’ve left him speechless. You look so perfect, unlike anything he has ever seen. It almost feels corny to him–how starstruck you’ve got him.

After what feels like an eternity, he steps closer to you and gently holds your waist, his cheeks turning into a deep crimson color.

“You look amazin’, lass.” He softly says, his rough hands feeling you up gently. “So beautiful.” He just can’t stop looking at you, his jaw still touching the floor as his eyes scan your flustered frame and face. “Thank you, John.”

“I don’t even wanna go on the mission anymore. I just wanna look at you.” He purrs, his soft blue eyes meeting yours. “God, I wish.” You snicker, punching his shoulder playfully. “We’re already late to the briefing as is. We gotta move, Sergeant.” “Unfortunately.”

There’s something so different about Johnny on this mission. The way he is with you is worlds apart from his attitude to everyone else. He’s as soft as a koala with you, clinging to you as you navigate around the booming club. He’s constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for doing the bare minimum. “You’re doin’ great, bonnie.” “Look at you… stunning.” “Aren’t you lookin’ pretty?” “Good job, beautiful.”

But if only you can see how he’s glaring daggers at everyone else. Any man who steps too close for comfort to you needs to go through Johhny first. Nobody messes with you on his watch. He’s acting like your fucking guard dog–that’s how bad it is.

After the mission… Good God, you’re in for it.

Clingy™️. You thought he was clingy in the club? It is nothing compared to how much of a lost puppy he is around you now. He just wants to be around you and nobody else.

x kyle "gaz" garrick

Kyle isn’t surprised John assigned him to go on this mission with you. You’re both young, efficient, and skillful. What better candidates are there for this?

He is, however, overjoyed. Going on missions alone with you will always be one of Kyle’s favorite things, the intimacy and romance of it all making his heart burst. But this? It is on a whole other level of romance to Kyle. Even if clubs aren’t fairytale-like, the context matters to him. He’s going to the club with you, as your date. How is that not romantic?

He has always loved your look. Not only is it sexy to him how authentic you look, but it has a level of vulnerability to it, which he adores. But he can’t help but wonder–how would you look glammed up? How would you look with a full face and a cute outfit?

Well, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. The time has come.

“Hurry up, Kyle.” You grumble as you stand outside his room, continuously knocking on his door. Surprisingly, he’s putting a lot of effort into his appearance, so much so that he’s taking longer than you did to dress up. “Captain’s gonna come for our asses.” “You excited to see me, is that it?” “Shut up.”

It takes him a few minutes to finally walk out, and as much as you are mesmerized by his appearance, it is nothing compared to his reaction to your new look. He is RED.

“Wow… you look good, Sergeant.” You give him a nod of approval, a cheeky smile painted on your face. Kyle’s sudden silence makes your eyes flicker to his own, only to be met by his awed expression.

He takes all of you in, drinking in your appearance before his eyes meet yours. “Damn, soldier.” He whistles, stepping closer to you and giving you a twirl, erupting a hearty laugh from you. “You look great.” Even though his words are simple, they carry a palpable weight. “Thanks, Kyle. Now let’s go.”

You instantly notice how handsy Kyle is, all of a sudden. He keeps his hand on the small of your back during the whole mission, his touch sending waves of warmth throughout your body. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, making it impossible for him to keep his hands away from you. You look stunning.

He even drags you onto the club’s dance floor, resting his hands on your hips and bringing you closer to him, your bodies swaying to the music. He insists it’s for blending into the crowd, but everybody knows he’s spewing complete bullshit. But you don’t mind.

However, you two finished the mission with flying colors, your teamwork proving to be excellent once more. (Kyle is sure it’s because of the dancing.)

He has never put such thought and care into a mission report in his life. He’s secretly hoping John will assign him and you on more of these missions together. He just can’t get enough of this new look of yours.

He still adores your usual air. Your laidback and natural beauty makes his heart skip a beat every time. But damn, your confidence in that club makes him lose his mind.

He craves more of it.

x john price

John knows better than anyone how capable you are. How strong and essential you are to the team. He immediately assigns you to go on this mission because of your ability to complete your tasks flawlessly and smoothly. And who better to go on this mission with you than him?

He knows he’s doing this for the mission’s sake but still gets this unwavering guilt as he waits for you outside by the car. You’ve got this unique aura everyone’s drawn to, even if you aren’t everyone's taste. You’re so courageous and likable, so unapologetically yourself. There’s just something about you. He can’t help but like you. And he feels like he’s solely going on this mission with you because of his biased feelings–because he chose you two to go together. It’s so shameful. He’s your Captain, for fuck’s sake.

“What’s got you stressing, Cap?” You break him out of his storm of thoughts when you walk towards him, looking more alluring than ever. He could look at you for hours. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, your makeup extenuates your features, and your scent makes you smell like you came straight from heaven. You look like a literal angel. There’s no denying that.

“Well, don’t you look breathtaking?” He gives you a soft smile, stepping closer to you and taking all of you in. “Ready to go?” He can’t let himself get too distracted. You’ve still got a mission to complete. It is proving to be more difficult than usual, though–not because of the objective itself but because of you.

“Thanks, Captain.” You chuckle, nodding. “Yep. All ready.”

Focusing on the road is rougher than it seems. With you sitting next to John, he can’t look anywhere but you. The mere sight of you is just killing him.

Focusing on the mission isn’t as hard, but it’s still bothersome when he could be holding you in his arms, admiring your newfound beauty and look. He’s trying his hardest not to act possessive. To not be closer than he needs to be. Again–he has a job to get done.

But at the end of the day, unlike everyone else, he knows how to control himself and finish the mission quickly and efficiently.

After the mission, however, you’re not off the hook.

Since he’s your Captain, he needs to keep himself in check. Having a relationship with you is dangerous for you both, which is why he’s discreet with his favoritism and feelings.

Now all of a sudden, he’s assigning you on far too many disguise missions, the ones that require you to get dolled up. Of course, he’s still so smitten by default. Like Johnny, he feels that no amount of imperfections can take away from your beauty. But seeing you in those dresses… that makeup… it does something to John. He can’t get enough of it.

And obviously, he’s going with you on those missions.

And suddenly, it’s not about the missions anymore but about you. John’s not doing this because you’re skilled–John’s doing this because it’s the closest he’ll ever get to being with you.

931 notes · View notes

thenightcallsme · 8 months

Text

Do I Make you Nervous? | Simon "Ghost" Riley

little re-upload from my AO3 :)

Synopsis: When Task Force 141 is betrayed by Philip Graves, they're forced to separate. Y\N fights her way through the foreign Las Almas with a broken radio and no sense of direction. Yet, somehow, she finds herself in the same church her lieutenant, Simon "Ghost" Riley, seeks sanctuary in. As they attempt to brave the storm sweeping through the streets, the infamously unreadable Ghost challenges their professional relationship.

Pairing: Ghost x F!141reader

Contains: fluff, kissing, use of Y/N, hint of angst but resolved in the end, vague mentions of blood/wounds

Word count: 5,874

• • • • •

It was all a set-up. A lie.

Disappointment and anger triumphs any sadness over Grave's betrayal. At first, he came across as over-confident in that stereotypical male way. Over time I had warmed up to him. But Shepherd? The man who has given me the most freedom I’ve had in a long time? I admit that my use as a weapon to him has put a strain on our companionship, but to station me with my own cousin only to lash out unprovoked? He’s crossed a line that he can never come back from. The small liking I had for the man vanished as soon as shit hit the fan. Everything seems to replay in my mind. Alejandro insulted and detained, Johnny shot at, Ghost cornered...

There were too many of them to fight off. I couldn't trust myself to hold my own with my mind worrying over Johnny, Alejandro and Ghost while also plotting Shepherd's death. So, though it pained me, I ran. Ghost and Johnny did the same.

My radio was damaged in the incident. A stray bullet flew my way, and with a stroke of luck, grazed the radio instead of my ribs. The close call was enough warning to run, which is what I do now. The lack of communication only worsens the worry.

Shadows crawl in the streets of Las Almas like rats in a sewer. From door to door they go, yelling at innocent civilians in the late hours of dusk. From the conversations I've heard, they're looking for two foreign men and their female friend. They don't quite explain why we're being hunted, but the truth wouldn't change much. Every so often, a shot fires, echoing through the streets like a warning bell. A call of sorrow and fear.

With the Shadows forcing their way into civilian homes and raising their weapons against anyone who could harbour us, houses and shops aren't safe. The towering cathedral spires peeking above tin roofs and stacked houses catch my attention instead. Nobody would be inside at this time of night. For now, it's the best I can do. Also to my luck, the church isn't too far away. I take my time and keep to the shadows on my way. With a quick survey of my surroundings, I know I've bet the Shadows to this part of the city. That won't last long. The revelation has me jumping the gate within seconds of making it.

Inside the church is pitch black. Towering windows that tell biblical tales line the walls, casting light in intervals across the empty foyer. Rows of seats begin to emerge as my eyes adjust. Further back is an intricate, circular skylight tens of feet above the marble floor. Illuminating the altar below is a waterfall of silvery light. The giant cross, gold statues, and wooden altar glow like I'm looking through a blurred lens. The view is both eerie and magical...and not meant to be marvelled at in a time like this. My focus should be maintaining high ground. I begin to turn in search of a staircase when something shifts in the darkness.

A figure materialises, tall and built; easily a male physically capable of snapping my neck. My next best option is the gun strapped to my hip to parry the one in his hand. I go to reach for mine—

“Y/N?”

I freeze in surprise, but my mind eases slightly.

“Lieutenant? How—”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re here now.” He looks down at me with searching eyes. “You in one piece?”

“Yes. You—?” At that moment, my own eyes skim his body, only to halt at a worrying sight. On the left side of his waist, just above the waistband of his pants, is a blooming, dark red stain on his shirt. He’s been shot. “Jesus, Ghost. How bad is it?”

“I’ve had worse—”

He stops himself at the distant shouting. The surrounding streets haven’t been quiet since I’ve been in the church, but this time it grows closer. Angrier. Ghost doesn’t waste time ushering me along in search of a stairwell. The one we find leads to the second floor, then a third. Eventually, we discover the central bell tower. The room is dank and cold and decently big. Suspended in the middle is a gigantic bell. Even in the dark, I can see how weathered the metal is. The worn wooden floors creak as we cross it. On each wall are arched openings that allow entry to the cold night air and terrified screams. A small cluster of discarded furniture draped in white sheets huddles in a corner. From here, we have a perfect view of the sprawling city and winding streets. To those down there, we’re invisible.

Simon leans back against a wall and grunts, his hands brushing over the bullet wound. He pulls back his hands to inspect the fresh blood. However bad it is, it’s still bleeding.

“Show me,” I say. My voice comes out more demanding than I intend.

He gives me a brief exasperated look but doesn’t push back.

Ghost sits against the wall with his shoulders slumped just enough to reach my level. His jacket is unzipped, his black shirt rolled up halfway. Those tired, piercing eyes and muscular arms are the most I've ever seen of him. It feels like a reward when the weather is unforgiving enough to chase away his usual long-sleeve or jacket. His arms are tanned and muscled, with a tattoo sleeve working from the wrist of his left arm up to his elbow. I’ve begun to accept that it’s the closest I’m ever going to get to seeing him. But now I stare down at his bare abdomen.

The waistband of his black cargo pants sits low on his hips, offering a distracting view of a pronounced V-line and abs. In the moonlight, I can make out the reminders of war that mark his skin; a few silvery scars, some clean-cut, some gnarled and twisted; an old bullet wound healed closer to his ribs. The fresh one with the most of my attention is buried in a more acceptable spot. It nestles into the far right side of his waist, thankfully nowhere near any vital organs. However, it’s still a bullet wound and it still bleeds. That’s enough to worry me.

“Do you reckon it’s bad?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t say I’m dying.”

“But we aren’t in the position to get proper help. Maybe sit down for a bit.” Surprisingly, he does so without question. I get to my feet, draw a small knife from my thigh holster, and rip a strip of fabric from the white sheets. When I drop back down beside him, I take a deep breath. “Here"

He takes it with a mumbled thank you and wraps the fabric around his waist.

“You heard from John?” I ask.

Simon winces as he adjusts the torn sheet. “I radioed him multiple times. Never got an answer.”

“Are you surprised by all this?”

Simon leans back against the wall. “I tend to be less surprised by betrayal. But I had some respect for Shepherd.”

I sigh, shuffling around him so that I can do the same. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Survive,” he says. “Shepherd wants you alive. Graves will see to that. He can’t kill Alejandro, either. But Johnny and I…” He shakes his head. “Graves won’t sleep until there’s a bullet in our heads and Shepherd won’t care enough to stop it.”

There’s a moment of silence as I fold my arms and look away thoughtfully. How are we supposed to do this? The blanket of night and the ensuing storm may offer some cover, but getting out of the city will be a mission. I can’t bring myself to leave without John, either. My heart hurts when I think about him. He could be anywhere, alone and outnumbered while I sit uselessly in a bell tower.

“What do we do about Johnny?” My voice is quiet. Fearful. “My radio was damaged so I couldn’t reach out to him. Maybe his is the same. But not knowing… He’s the only family I have left. My only real friend.”

“Don’t worry about Johnny. He’s one of the most resourceful and strong-willed Sergeants I’ve dealt with in a while. Have faith in him.” He looks at me then, tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t say he’s your only friend.”

“I do quite like his girlfriend…” I murmur.

“And Alejandro? Ronaldo?”

I purse my lips as his question draws thought. I’ve been considering Alejandro and Ronaldo as allies. Companions. But I’ve grown quite fond of them. Considering them as friends would set me up for heartache if anything were to happen. So I haven’t… At least openly. Despite my attempts to create some distance in our relationships, my subconscious has decided for me. Those two are my friends. It explains the immense distress I’m battling over Alejandro’s capture.

“I guess so.”

“Me?”

Silence ensues from both of us.

His question stuns me; I was prepared for him to stop at Alejandro and Ronaldo. There’s nobody else in Las Almas or back at home that I pay attention to. Besides Ghost, at least. I could answer him in a second. I almost do.

Ghost is infamous for his detachment. He’s quiet, short-tempered, dangerous and mysterious. I’ve heard the comments that he suits his code name. Spiritual beings do not communicate through speech but through action. Ghost is the physical embodiment of the epiphany. Anybody able to coax a few sentences from him outside missions is admirable. Outside of that, his physical emotions require deep analysis and theory to understand. The mask only makes things more difficult. I’ve never seen him show palpable kindness through his aura or words to anyone, never heard him allow the use of his name, never heard him offer others insight into the raging whirlwind of his mind.

And yet he lets those things slide around me.

He lets me speak his name when no one is listening. He offers me comfort when I need it most — if not through limited words, through soft gazes and a hand on my shoulder. I’m usually able to get him talking. Sometimes I receive short answers, sometimes I receive enough to help me understand more of that whirlwind mind. He even occasionally shows pieces of himself that take away from the guessing game I usually play.

I shut people out because the last people I let in betrayed me.

I never consider answering personal questions, but you tend to have a lot of them. And every time you ask…I almost answer

I guess you and I are more alike than I thought.

All of it has me wanting more. More of his mind, his words, the soft gazes I’ve noticed are reserved for me. What I already have is nothing compared to every naked truth he could be telling me. However, what I’ve managed to coax from him seems to be more than he’s told anyone in a long time. At first, I marked it down as me being the only female on the team or Ghost considered me fragile. But I've proved myself, and nothing about being a 'fragile female' (which I very well am not) does not automatically give me all these passes. I now realise it is much more than that.

Never once has he called me his friend. I already have. Now it’s his turn.

“I don’t mind you, Simon, but friendship can’t be one-sided,” I say. While it’s a simple statement, a silent question hides between each word. Are you my friend?

“If it was as one-sided as you think, you wouldn’t be calling me Simon.”

My heart skips a beat. There. It’s an answer to my unspoken words, but it’s not plain as day. As usual, Simon tells me something that is anything but straightforward. There’s room for interpretation in his answer—something that is beginning to tire me. It’s almost as if the honest answer is criminal and he’s trying to cover up his tracks. Almost as if not speaking that honest answer can allow him to deny it.

I don't bother concealing my annoyance. “That’s not what I want to hear and you know it.”

“Fuck sakes, Y\N, I said it,” he says. His voice comes out both argumentative and exasperated.

“No, you didn't. All I ever get out of you is stuff that works around the truth. Stuff I have to think about to understand.” I'm crossing a line, I know. I just can't help it. “What’s so hard about admitting it?”

“Don’t.”

His tone is final. I don’t care.

“Does the truth scare you?”

His eyes squint, becoming barely visible against the black paint, the mask, and the low light. I can clearly picture a scowl jumping across the many faces I’ve imagined. While I want to flinch away, I don’t. Not for a second do my eyes lower, and not for a second do I grow offensive. I remain calm and collected, which I think annoys him more.

“You want the truth?” he growls. The accent of Manchester seems to thicken. “Fine. I’ll tell you the truth. I don’t want to admit I think of you as a friend ‘cause I bloody well want to ignore it. For years, it’s only been me and I planned it to be for the rest of my life. Then all of a sudden you and your annoying cousin appear and jeopardise everything. The only person with an inkling of anything was Shepherd and I was fine with that. But now you’re catching up to him. You’ve so effortlessly undone everything I’ve worked hard to maintain.” The growl in his voice dies down the longer he speaks. In the last sentence, his voice is quiet, defeated, but a little begrudging. “And I knowingly let you.”

“If it was bothering you that much, you should have told me,” I say with a voice equally as quiet. “If I knew you didn’t want me to know so badly, I would have respected that.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I think about telling you everything. I may get pissy at you over your questions, but…” A sigh. The truth is shameful to him. “I look forward to them.”

“If it makes you feel any better…” I laugh a little. “It’s really annoying how intriguing you are. Not just your past and your face… When I’m not trying to guess what you look like, I’m refraining from asking you stupid questions. Shit like if you’re a cat or dog person.”

“Dog person,” he replies. Any hint of anger or annoyance has disappeared. “Cats have too much attitude.”

I squint. “You just don’t appreciate them.”

“You strike me as a cat person.” He pauses in thought. “You just remind me of a cat, really.”

I raise my brows, giving him an exasperated look. “Are you going to tell me I have an attitude?”

“Maybe. But there’s more to it.”

I cock my head in question.

“Cats are friendly. Independent.” His eyes shift and I wonder if there's a smirk beneath the mask. “Curious.”

“Was that another dig at my questions?”

“Yes. Now shut up and listen.”

Before he continues, I find myself turning my body so I can fully look at him, my shoulder against the concrete walls and my legs folded beneath me.

“There’s that look in their eyes that they know your worst thoughts. Your secrets. They’re also graceful. Got that high-class elegance about them. But they can be unpredictable, striking out when you least expect. Once they sink their claws into you…” His eyes search my face. “You can’t get rid of them.”

I look up at him in wonder, my mouth slightly agape as I try to find a suitable response. Nothing I could say would express the way his words sink in. I’ve always coined Simon to be the observant type, keeping to himself and remaining silent. But I never expected him to relay his finds. His usual short, sharp answers contrast the compliment greatly.

“I think…” A small smile curves my lips upwards. “…That was the most meaningful compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never. Now I have a question.”

“The floor is yours.”

“Do you have, like, Queen Elizabeth tattooed on your face? The British flag?” I grin. “Something mask-worthy, you know?”

“Why does it have to be something British?”

“Because there’s no way you’re the only Brit I know that isn’t somewhat stereotypical.”

Simon huffs a laugh. “No stereotypical tattoos. Sorry to disappoint.”

“A big scar, then?”

He tilts his head. “No scars that make me want to wear it.”

I raise my brows. “So you do have a scar?”

“Only one big one.”

“Good to know.” I nod my head with thoughtful eyes. “I’ll add that to a mental note.”

His eyes widen a fraction. The skull sown to his balaclava only offers the view of his painted eyes and nothing. Not even his eyebrows. I guess he’s raising them in question.

“How often do you think about this?”

I let out a long breath. “You have no idea. I change what I think you look like every day.”

“What do you think I look like.”

I go quiet in thought for a moment. As I said, the image changes… Only more frequently than I want to admit. Sometimes the change is small. Sometimes the change is big. I know I’m not the only one stumped by this, either. John and I joked over it once. He said things eluding to him being unattractive. A crooked nose, a huge scar, broken teeth. Every time he made a guess I would laugh, but never did the ideas seep into my mind. Nothing in an unattractive sense, anyway. Despite the possibility, I can never picture him as ugly.

“It varies, but…” I take one last second to collect my thoughts. “Without that skull piece, you have dark eyebrows. I imagine your hair is brown. And you’re eyes…it’s hard to tell with the paint, but they’re more deep-set and heavy-lidded. The balaclava is tight enough to make me think you have a straight nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw…” I shake my head. “Beyond that, I’m stumped.”

I can tell he thinks deeply about each characteristic. I sit patiently and almost wait for confirmation, but I know better than that. If he’s not going to show his face, he’s not going to—

“My hair is brown.”

I’m about to backtrack on my previous thought when he reaches towards the space between my neck and shoulder. In the frenzy that has been the last hour, my hair has come undone. The braid was unsavable, making me pull out the band and attempt a ponytail…only for it to snap in two. My hair now falls in dishevelled waves. A small part of my hair falls over my shoulder. Simon gingerly reaches for it, curling it between his finger and examining it in the low light. …Can he hear how fast my heart is beating?

“Not like yours. A few shades lighter, maybe. And that scar…”

Even more gingerly, Simon pulls one of my hands from its folded position, and I pray my expression doesn’t betray me. Rough, calloused hands press against the back of mine. The size difference is almost comical. He guides it to his masked face, working his fingers working around mine to spread them out. He drags my hand over his right cheekbone, across the hollow of his cheek, and towards his jaw. My mind is hyper-fixated on the shape of his face.

“Right along there.”

His eyes continue to search my face. There’s nothing but curiosity in the blue-grey of his irises. Curious at what, I can’t tell. Everything about this has my mind raging. The way he looks at me, the way he holds my hand against the black balaclava, the way he towers over me even when sitting down... The thoughts that surface are shameful. He’s your lieutenant, for Christ’s sake. Have some respect. The remembrance of his position has little help.

If anything, it strengthens the fantasies.

His hold shifts on top of my hand, the pad of his thumb swiping across my skin to stop on the inner side of my wrist and press down. He may not have been able to hear my heartbeat…but now he can feel it at the worst possible moment.

“You’re heart is beating fast.” He inclines his head. “Do I make you nervous, Y\N?”

God, is my breathing even? I can’t tell.

“You just caught me off guard, is all.”

Simon hums thoughtfully as his hand breaks away from mine and reaches forward. His fingers connect with my collarbone before finding my neck, exploring upwards in search of a pulse point. A shiver of excitement and nervousness runs beneath my skin like a ripple. His other hand slides over my knee and up my thigh. If my heart was racing before, this is a life-or-death sprint.

Slow are his movements. Calculated. He knows exactly where my heartbeat reverberates in my neck. Instead, he drags the moment out, coaxing out his desired reaction. But there’s something else in the slowness: a window for me to flinch away and draw the physical line neither of us has ever drawn. We’ve brushed shoulders and hands. We’ve sat with our bodies aligned in cramped cars. He’s held my hair back in a bathroom as I threw up after a panicked episode (something I would like to forget if he wasn't so surprisingly understanding). He's placed a hand on my shoulder for many different reasons. All are excusable moments. The ones that surpass professional boundaries can be marked as friendly. However, the intimacy of this moment is new. Scary. Exciting.

“Did you know your bottom lip twitches before you lie?” Simon asks. I find myself at eye level with him. When did he get so close? “I don’t like lies. Try again.”

“Sometimes…” I breathe.

“Sometimes, what?”

Bastard. “Sometimes you make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I frown. “I don’t know.”

He’s definitely leaning closer now. Not just with his head, but with his whole upper body. Out of the nerves Simon is so adamant on understanding, I retreat, only making it a few inches before my back hits the other wall. Simon half hovers over me, the hand that was on my thigh now bracing himself on the floor. There are only a few inches between our chests. Even less between our faces. Not once does he lose his connection with my pulse.

“Another lie.”

“I don’t know how to word it. That's not a lie.”

Simon drops his head so that his covered mouth hovers beside my ear.

“Good girl.”

Never has praise sounded so seductive. It takes every inch of concentration to reign in my self-control. I might have ripped off his mask then and there…

Only, I think he’s beating me to it.

From where his head hovers, I can’t see his masked face. The wide, strong shape of his shoulder obscures most of my vision. He retracts his hand from my neck to reach somewhere I can’t see. The sound of moving cloth widens my eyes and upsets the rhythm of my breathing, the uneven rise and fall of my chest barely brushing his.

Maybe he’s adjusting it, I convince myself. He has only ever offered you little pieces at a time. What he’s offering me now is more than he ever has at once. While my body screams for more, my mind knows I can’t expect too much from him. Whatever he’s doing now is more than enough.

“You’re breathing funny.”

The feeling of breath skims the shell of my ear and down my neck like a warm, ghostly waterfall. It takes me a second to notice a difference in his voice. It’s low, it’s rough, it’s teasing. All are easily noticeable and nothing new. What is new is the enhanced clarity. An added sharpness lingers in his accented words. The slight muffle is nowhere to be found.

I was wrong. He’s lifted his mask.

“Because you’re taking off your mask." My answer comes out in a weak whisper.

He doesn’t speak about the mask, instead repositioning his hand to my neck to find my pulse.

“If you can’t tell me,” he murmurs, returning to the previous topic, “your heartbeat can.”

A warm feeling presses into my neck. A gasp slips past my lips as my heartbeat continues to quicken and stumble beneath his thumb. Against my skin…I think Simon is smiling.

Nothing about this seems real. Simon plants slow kisses on my neck with his bare lips. They’re a little rough, yet soothing. Whether they’re full or thin, I can’t tell, but the lack of obvious signs paints an image of something in between. His nose brushes the base of my jaw. Just above the pointed tip is where the balaclava begins. I can feel the hard edges of the sewn-on skull pressing into my left temple. Light stubble covers his jaw.

As his mouth works slowly against my neck, my jaw, and my collarbone, my hand slides up and over his chest. I slowly feel his bare neck. Beneath my fingers, his Adam's apple bobs. Further I explore, feeling the planes of his skin. The stubble scratches against my curious hand. Raised skin runs in a line over the right side of his face; the scar. It’s thin and generally clean-cut. He pulls back slightly as I feel his face. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest as my thumb traces over his lips. I was right, they are something between full and thin. His lower lip feels slightly fuller with a deep hollow beneath that curves into his chin.

When I find it in me to speak, my voice is breathy.

“Kiss me.” He seems to still at that. When his reply isn’t instant, I continue. “You don’t have to… But I won’t look. I swear it.”

Silently, he reaches for my hand. He holds his over mine for a moment as he did with the mask moments earlier. Then he gently pries it away. Cloth shifts in my air as he fixes the mask and pulls back. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I respect the decision. Simon looks down at me with lust-blown pupils. Mine must be the same.

He takes a second to examine me. My heavy-lidded eyes, my slightly parted lips, the way I slump beneath him, the glistening wet spots left on my neck. He whips it away before he speaks.

“Can I trust you?”

We both know the answer to that, so instead of saying the obvious, I one-up him.

“Do you want to trust me?”

Silence passes for a heartbeat.

“Of course I do,” he says softly. “I want to trust you. I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. …Undress you. I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Then he moves.

My thoughts go quiet as Simon’s hands reach upward. When his fingers brush the base of his mask, I reach out and still his hands. The action takes both of us by surprise. For months I’ve been thinking about this moment. Just now I’ve admitted how much what he looks like takes up my mind. Now I find myself stopping him, but not because I’ve changed my mind. I worry that this will be something he’ll regret.

“Simon,” I say. “You don’t owe it to me to show your face.”

“But I do.” He inclines his head. “Now keep your pretty eyes up.”

My breath catches in my throat as he pulls it off in one swift motion. I take in everything I’m seeing in amazement, wonder, and bewilderment.

He’s handsome. He’s really handsome.

The ruggedness and confidence he carries seem to be etched into the planes of his face. A light stubble shadows his angular, defined jaw. Just as I had imagined, the bridge of his nose is straight and strong. His high cheekbones, deep-set eyes and smudged black paint create deep shadows. His mouth is wide. The shape of them is a physical manifestation of what I had imagined. With an average fullness, his upper lip is slightly smaller with a soft cupid’s bow. Tracing the angles of his right cheekbone is that straight, silver scar. His hair isn’t as short as most other military men’s. It’s a little messy from the mask and, true to his words, a few shades lighter than mine. I can tell that, the longer it gets, the more it curls.

I stay silent as I take him in, eyes wide. Somehow I find the courage to slowly reach out. His blue-grey eyes dart to my hesitant fingers. When he doesn’t deny me, I close the space, this time feeling him without needing to imagine his image. I apply a little pressure as I brush his skin, feeling the warmth of his cheeks, the scar tissue on his cheekbone, and the stubble on his jaw. His eyes train on me. This is one of the few times I cannot understand what I see in them.

Whatever he’s thinking, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I stare back at Simon. Not Ghost, Simon.

“I was starting to think you weren’t real,” I say jokingly.

He laughs softly. One side of his mouth quirks up into a skewed smirk. My heart flutters at the sight of it. When he speaks, it’s with that teasing tone that always had me imagining a smirk. Matching his expressions to his tones is a strange thing to see, but I love it.

“Is this real enough for you?” he asks.

I hum in agreement. “You’re a lot better looking than I imagined.”

He raises a brow in mock offence. “Do I radiate unattractiveness? I’m offended.”

“I never said I imagined you ugly.”

I draw my hands back, taking another good look at him. My amazed smile remains. So does the awe in my eyes. Now that I know how good-looking he is, it’s going to be hard to get him out of my head. At least I can’t scold myself over falling for a faceless man anymore.

“I guess if I die tonight… I can go a little happier.”

The way he tilts his head and looks up through lowered brows sends my mind into a frenzy. I’m used to the action with his mask on, usually with the sewn-on skull. Now, with every part of his face laid bare for me, the feeling it stirs comes tenfold. He gives me a fake accusing look. Beneath the teasing air he gives off, that desire remains.

“A little?” he murmurs. His face grows closer, giving me a better view of the hollows and curves and marks of war.

“A little not enough?”

His eyes dip to my lips. “Not by a longshot.”

Then Simon kisses me.

Eyes fluttering closed, I sink into the feeling of his lips against mine. Gently. Hesitantly. Does he expect me to pull away? How could he think such a thing when I almost seemed desperate when I asked him? My hands slide over his chest, slowly linking behind his neck as the kiss deepens.

For a moment, everything fades away. The gunfire, the screams, the impending death we may face any moment... All of it reduces to a meaningless blur. Suddenly all that exists is me, Simon, and the secret embrace we share. In our kiss is a million unspoken words; a tidal wave of passion laced with a bittersweet sadness. The talk of ‘dying happy’ is no exaggeration. We very well may die, and seeing his face and feeling his touch eases the painful thought. Maybe this way I can find him in the afterlife - seek out his mysterious eyes and lopsided smirk and spend an eternity together. Or perhaps there is no afterlife, and this is my last stroke of luck.

Satisfied with the knowledge of what he does to me, Simon lowers his hand from my neck. The pressure reapplies near my belt. His fingers timidly skim the bottom of my tanktop, pulling the tucked part from my waistband. My own fingers weave through his brown hair as his hand slides further beneath. My kiss falters when he finds one of my breasts. His hand comfortably rests over it, his palm slowly kneading at the flesh. A low groan builds at the back of my throat.

After a moment, we pull away, chests rising and falling as we take deep breaths. His forehead rests against mine and suddenly I'm wishing we could do this over again. Except I picture less sadness to tinge every word and action. I picture the safety of home, the warmth of a bed, a carefree air that allows us to just enjoy the other's company. Reality comes back in a painful rush.

“I don’t want to die,” I whisper.

His hand retreats from my breast at my words. Instead, he takes a hold of my waist, giving me a comforting squeeze.

“You are not going to die. Not today. Not when there’s so much more I want from you.” He adds the last part with a teasing, suggestive smirk.

He looks down at my lips again—

“Ghost, how do you copy?”

We both freeze at the sound of a voice, so caught up in the moment that the radio is forgotten. Both the unspeakable things and sorrowful thoughts flooding my mind suddenly vanish at the sound of a familiar voice. There’s an equally received look on Simon’s face as he reaches for the small radio.

“I read you loud and clear, Sergeant,” he says. “What’s your location?”

“I…don’t know,” John replies solemnly. “Streets are crawling with Shadows. Where are you?”

“You see church spires above the houses?”

There’s a second of silence. Then…

“I see them.”

“Good. Head straight there and come inside. No Shadows here yet. They’ll be busy going door to door.”

“Affirmative. I’m on my way. Have you got any word from Y/N?”

Simon looks at me, silently giving me the floor to speak. “I’m right here, Johnny.”

There’s a sigh of relief on the other end. “Oh, thank fuck. You in one piece?”

“I’m all here. You?”

“Got a shot to the shoulder. Nothing I can’t handle.”

For the next while, Simon and I sit huddled side by side, guiding Johnny through the radio. I generally leave the talking to Simon. Listening to him speak and sinking into his warmth is good enough. Every so often, he'll say something that takes me by surprise. Sometimes it's a dad joke, either really good or incredibly bad. Sometimes it's something that alludes to Simon not minding Johnny. He never outright admits it, but saying 'I like you alive' to Johnny's 'so you do like me' speaks for itself. I smile at that. I have sunk my claws into him, and he's not going to be able to get rid of me till the day I die.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #mw2 #mwii #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n

653 notes · View notes

forensic420 · 10 months

Text

MW2 Task Force 141+König Hyperrealistic HC’s ✰

Ghost

-Not as reserved as you think he’d be, he’s actually very talkative. Him and Soap’s comm dialogue is more then enough evidence to show that he enjoys a good conversation and even jokes.

-Does that soldier sleep position often x . He’s a light sleeper, always ready to defend. When comfortable you can find him mumbling in his sleep, usually soft “yes”’s and “no”’s.

-Doesn’t fully understand American culture, he’s very confused by common American delicacies. “Y/N, what the fuck is a bucee’s?” He’d ask with a stressed look.

-Avid user of the word “cunt”. Top three favorite words. Also loves saying, “cheers ya slag”, he thinks and waits for scenarios so he can use it.

Gaz

-Very passionate about the military and his career. Gaz as a child would attend parades only to see the soldiers and wait at the end of the parade to meet them, his room was also filled with military toys and articles.

-His main song he listens to is Red Nation by The Game and Lil Wayne, it’s one of the few songs he downloaded on a portable music player.

-Is always around Price no matter where. You can always find him in Price’s office just chatting away and discussing documents. The two are bonded and Gaz is grateful to have an “older” and experienced father figure.

-Enjoys quiet days at the base. He likes just being able to hang out and be around his friends and team, he’d go to great lengths for his fellow soldiers.

Soap

-Soap’s accent can be super thick at times, causing the team to not understand him at times. He doesn’t attempt to correct himself most times, just continuing to ramble and goes on with the conversation.

-Is terrified of Ronald Mcdonald. “He be too happy, y’know?” He’d claim and frown. BIG fan of Grimace and the Hamburgler though, often always commenting on his love for them when the team mentions fast food.

-Secret artist. Soap’s mystery talent is he’s very gifted in drawing, he keeps his sketch pads under his mattress. He’d never show anyone but he is engrossed in sketching the team. There’s pages full of Ghost, Price, and Gaz just doing common things like sitting in a meeting or having a conversation with another team member.

-Absolutely hates doing dishes. Whenever he’s on dish duty he always complains. “A'd ower die.” He’d say and convince Gaz to do it, with the agreement of him doing Gaz’s chores for a week.

Price

-Is always rambling to Gaz or Soap about old movies he loves and makes them watch it with him. It became a weekly occurrence to find Price with the team watching some old western or military film.

-Enjoys watching documentaries about ancient civilizations, his favorite is Mesopotamia and the Shang dynasty.

-Price is always making sure his team is feeling good, often spending an equal amount of alone time with each member to talk and company them. “How’re you feeling, son?” He’d ask with a gentle but firm hand on their shoulder.

-When Soap is rambling and his accent is completely drowning a coherent sentence Price just nods and hums to him. He never comments on it, even if he doesn’t fully understand what was said.

König

-Huge fan of Rammstein. His teenage room was covered in posters of them and other bands like Helloween. Even as a full grown man he is not afraid to admit his love for Till Lindemann.

-A firm believer of Krampus and is very passionate about the subject. “Mein Gott! Don’t you know Knecht Ruprecht will get you if you’re naughty?” He’d tease to his soldiers, always backing it up by saying he knew a kid who got whipped by him.

-Has catatonic tendencies, will frequently withdrawal and get irritable. He’ll stay in his room going rigid and stays stupor. At times no Kortac member will see him, always wandering around base to try to find him. Once he snaps out of it he’ll often not remember it. “Was meinst du?” He’d ask and furrow his eyebrows, talking about a past day mission as if it were yesterday.

-As a child he was always absorbed and immersed in his mother’s snow globe collection. Gripping onto the mantle he’d watch the faux snow twirl around in the liquid. Was always afraid that somehow the globes would miraculously all fall off the mantle and shatter onto the ground.

506 notes · View notes

fictionalmenxyn · 1 year

Text

#task force 141 #task force 141 x y/n #cod x reader #task force 141 x y/n memes #platonic task force 141 x y/n #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #task force 141 and y/n snaps #y/n mw2 #cod modern warfare

190 notes · View notes

miwsolovely · 3 months

Text

—SHAMEFUL

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

series masterlist taglist next

summary: Your mom asks for a favor.

contains: mentions and talks of running away, reader being kept in the dark for a second, talks of revenge, talks of past trauma, price is a meany, ghost is ghost, reader has a tiny mental breakdown, dissociation

wc: 4.1k

a/n: love this first chapter

a/n 2: listened to ghost in the machine by sza while writing this (i would recommend listening to it while reading !)

Outside, the clouds were dark and gray. Casting a veil over the sun. Hiding light from this part of town. Mimicking your feelings, dark and sad and scared to hell.

Your back ached, carrying heavy boxes filled with memories from your last apartment, and the apartment before that, and the house before that.

The you from three years ago would’ve stripped each and every one of your house and apartments bare. Leaving nothing and bringing everything.

Now as you stand in your third apartment in two years, feeling defeated and tried, you wonder how most of your life can fit into 5 cardboard boxes.

All the memories filled with love, sadness, hate, years filled almost to the brim in 5 cardboard boxes.

You looked away from the depressing sight of your life in those boxes, sat down on the stool that was in front of your kitchen island, and lied your head down on the cold surface of it.

The cold was welcomed. It gave you something to think about, something else to worry about.

Your head was throbbing, pounding as you moaned in pain, your face full of sadness and distress. You felt like after moving so much in such little time, nothing was going your way, and the world seemed cold and uncaring.

Anchovy was curled up next to you, the feline's purr providing you a comforting and soothing presence that only she could provide. You felt her rough but soft paw, gently brushing up against your cheek, her tail swinging softly in an adorable display of cuteness.

Your attention was now drawn to the white Birman, and the feline gave a gentle meow, as if asking you if you’re alright.

You shuddered out a breath and ran your calloused hands over your face, resting your elbows on the island and your face on your hands.

“Fuck . . .” You whispered, running your hand through your hair and pushing it back out of your face at the same time. “This shit can’t get any sadder huh?”

Anchovy meowed again and rubbed her head on yours, her purring loud in your ears.

You laughed and ran your fingers through her fur. “Thanks Cho.” You bumped heads with her lightly and looked in her eyes. She in return, licked your nose.

You smiled and kissed her head, scratching behind her ears.

Disrupting the moment you were having with Anchovy, your phone rang. The sound piercing your ears and the vibrations uncomfortable on your ass. Anchovy leaped from the island counter to your lap as you reached in your back pocket to get your phone.

The contact calling you was no other than your older sister. You swiped to accept the call and held the phone against your ear, petting Anchovy with your unoccupied hand.

“What’s up scales?”

“One,” she snapped, “i am not a fish. Two, I called to warn you. So shut up, and listen.”

You paused combing your fingers through Anchovy’s fur. Vera never called to warn you, and she never sounded so serious.

“What is it?” You questioned. If it was anybody else calling you to warn you about something, you would’ve been fine. But this was Vera. Cold hearted stick-your-head-on-a-pike-if-you-look-at-me-weird Vera. She rarely even calls anybody.

You heard her sigh on the other end of the line. “Mom’s gonna call you. Shes gonna ask you for something, a favor, but you gotta promise me—”

“Mom?” You questioned. “Mom is gonna ask me for a favor? We talkin’ about the same woman right?”

She sighed again, exasperated. “Yes, [name] We’re talking about the same woman. Now listen,” she started, “shes gonna call you, ask for a favor, and you have got to fucking promise me that you hear her out because this will be beneficial to the both of you if you just fucking listen. You understand me?”

You were silent for a few moments. “[name]? [name] I swear to fucking—”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here Vee.” You sighed, rubbing your hands down your face. “You got me stressed now, is something wrong with Mom? Is Ma okay?” You questioned.

“Yes [name], Mom an’ Ma are just fine. Look I’m,” she paused for a few seconds. You couldn’t see her, but you knew she was doing that thing she always does when she’s guilty of something: playing with her ear. “I’m sorry. For worrying you. I just—”

“—want what’s best for me I know Vee. I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. And you know I don’t like it when you say it like that.” She grumbled. Ever since you two were little, she would always get mad whenever you would say “I love you too” instead of “I love you” saying it sounded like you agreed with the fact that she loved you.

You let out a small laugh. Smile playing at your lips. “Fine. I love you Vera.”

“You promise you’ll hear her out? Promise me.” She stressed.

“I promise, Vera. Cross my heart an’ hope to die.”

You could hear her smile through the line. “Good. I love you [name].”She affirmed and then the line ended.

You sat still for a moment, worrying, stressing, overwhelmed. was Mom okay? Was Vera okay? The emotions you were feeling right now were equivalent to the feeling of unknowingly being led into a field of landmines by someone you trusted and that person just walking away. Leaving you to your imagination. Would you step on a landmine, Would you walk away with all your limbs intact?

Yes, you loved Vera with your entire heart and more, but a little less suspense would do your mind some good.

Because of this, this field of suspense that Vera trapped you in, you didn’t notice how Anchovy slipped away, likely taking a nap in your room. Not noticing the little things, not noticing how your heart pounded, how your breathing started coming short, how little crescents started to form on the palm of your hands from the onslaught of your nails, how you lip started to bleed from how much you bit it, how—

Your phone was ringing again.

It snapped you out of whatever daze you were in before. Pulling you up from the dark of the unknown. Your mind. Waking you up, making you realize that yes, you were still here, and no, this is not a dream.

You took a deep breath and answered the call, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hello? [name]?”

It was Mom. Why was she calling? Is she alright? Is Ma alright?

“Mom? Whats wrong, are you—” You took a calming breath. “—are you okay?”

She was silent on the other line for a moment. “Did Vera not tell you I’d call?”

You paused. Holding the phone on your ear hearing faint static coming from the other line. Sitting confused for a few seconds.

In more ways than one, the sound of static was like your mind. The mental clutter occupying all the space for any other thoughts or emotions; and like static, they were blurred, unable to piece together correctly. Your thoughts were clouded and confused after the little episode that you had after hanging up with Vera. Right now, all you could hear were a million radio stations all playing at once, constantly intruding on each other and creating an awful, chaotic noise. Your head felt like it was about to explode if you didn’t—

“[name].” Came her calming voice. “[name] can you hear me? Try to breathe sweetheart, you’re alright.”

You did as you were told and took a deep breath, prolonging the exhale. “Yeah—yeah she told me about you callin’ I just,” You took another calming breath. “just had a moment Mom, m’ fine.”

“Another one?” She asked, and you nodded in response even though she couldn’t see it. Either way, she knew. she always did.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” You question, changing the topic. Mostly because you couldn’t bear to talk about yourself. Your problems, your fears.

She cleared her throat. Likely preparing herself for the conversation. “Listen, before you cut me off—”

“—Too late, Mama. Stop beatin’ around the bush. Please. You know how I am about that.” You begged. Brows furrowing as you looked around the kitchen. You stood up and walked to the living room instead. Standing in front of a bouquet of flowers left on the coffee table Vera got you when you moved here. The petals and stems still wet, you need a vase. Anything to distract yourself.

You walked back to the kitchen and reached the too cupboard for a clear white vase. You picked it up with care and starting a search for the flower food you know it came with, you put it somewhere.

She sighed on the other end of the line for the umpteenth time. “You need to face it [name]. Face the fact that he’s still alive and looking for you. Face the fact that you can’t run forever and that you need to look the Devil in his fucking eyes and say “No.””

You sighed and paused your search. Raising your hand to your face and rubbed at your eyes, already feeling a migraine. “Mom—” You find the flower food and bring it and the vase back to the living room. Throwing the food hazardously on the coffee table.

“No, [name]. I love you. You know I love you. Vera loves you and you know your Ma loves you more than God ever could.” She said. She was pleading. For what, you didn’t know.

You stopped in front of the coffee table. The line was silent on both ends for a few seconds. Feeling like minuets, hours.

“Mom,” You worried. “what is this about . . ?”

“I’m sorry, [name]. I just want what’s best for you and—”

“Mom.”

You were gripping the vase so tightly you were surprised it didn’t break under your hands.

You heard her choke out what sounded like a shaky breath and sigh at the same time.

“I put in a permanent spot request for you in a Task Force.” She took a deep breath. To calm herself, you don’t know. You were lost. “You transfer there tomorrow. I was gonna ask for your permission to send the request before-hand but after your little episode, how you do things to distract yourself from what’s going on around you, you need structure baby, routine, and the one thing that’s gonna give you that, is by doing this.”

That tight grip you had on the vase got tighter, and tighter, until there was nothing to hold onto anymore. Only broken shards of glass, your blood, and the sound of the vase breaking that closely resembled screams.

Something you wanted to do right now: scream, cry, throw a fucking fit.

“[name], listen—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. You started a new one, interrupting her.

“You didn’t—” You let out a choked laugh pushing your hair out your eyes blood following, painting wherever your fingers touched red. “You didn’t think, to ask me? Do you know how much trauma and war I’ve been in and seen in the military? How much shit I was going through because of him? And you want me to go back? Forcing me?”

“Yes, [name], I know, believe me, I know. But you’re running away. You need to face this and end it.” She sounded so bleak. “I don’t care, I don’t care if you hate me for this, but I can’t keep seeing you like this, baby. I can’t keep seeing you without that light in your eyes, that smile that would never go away, that laugh,” She sobbed. She sobbed. Your Mom, crying her eyes out can be heard from your end of the line. The sound broke your heart. Broke it into tiny pieces, tinier pieces than the pieces of glass on the floor. She sobbed.

“Please, [name], please. I need you to live your life.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to let your tears run.

“Please.”

You held your head with your bloodied hand, smearing blood everywhere, unbeknownst to yourself, to try and calm the raging migraine you felt. You let out a sob hushed by your closed mouth and blinked tears away.

“Please...”

You sucked in air through your nose, and let it out after five seconds. Repeating the motion twice more.

“Wherever it is,” You gasped out, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “M’ not paying for a ticket there.”

You could hear her smile. And when she laughed a laugh that could make flowers bloom and the sun shine brighter, you let the tears fall. And after the call ended, it was shameful, the cry you let out.

***

"Why are we here Cap? Thought we were done for the day?" Gaz said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Price turns to him from his sitting position across from everybody and facing the door. "Laswell gave me word of—"

"Please—Ma'am you can't go in there! You're not cleared yet and—"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Where the fuck is Station Chief Kate Laswell?"

"She's-"

"I'll take it from here Sophie. Go on back to the Med Wing."

Sophie, they think, sighs and they hear her retreating footsteps. The men inside waited with bated breaths as they wondered who could be outside.

"Word o' wha' Price?" An accented voice asked. Mohawk overgrown a bit and kissing the tip of his eyebrows. Price let out a stressed sigh and leaned on his hands with his elbows on the table in front of him. "You'll see." He responded.

Hushed whispers are all they heard. Unable to make out anything from through the thick door.

Another sigh, and the door handle clicked as it was turned.

Entering first was Laswell. A file tucked underneath her arm as she nodded at Price and sat down next to him across from everybody else. And the new face entering the room now.

What they noticed first. Was not the fact that she noticed Ghost lurking in the corner of the briefing room immediately, her eyes shifting and meeting brown before promptly facing the front, was the fact that she had to duck and shift to the side to fit through the door.

Unmistakable pounds of muscle and healthy fat was standing at attention in front of the Task Force 141.

Something they didn't know what to do with.

Kate cleared her throat. Gaining the attention of everybody in the room and meeting the hard eyes of the woman still standing in front of the door. Waiting. "Everybody." She started, as she handed out the file, much likely the mystery woman's file, to Price. "Meet Colonel [name] [I.name]. Been on the force since eighteen and specializes in stealth, pararescue, close-combat fighting, and," she paused, looking at [name] directly. "she's a damn good sniper too."

Price looked at [name] then back at Kate after a few seconds. "The fact that her record is impressive is why you brought us all here for?" He sighed out. "Laswell, why is she here?"

Kate matched Price's stare with her own. "Because Captain, you need her if you ever want a chance at catching and killing Graves and Shepard." She said.

The room was silent. A chance at catching Graves and Shepard? In the months they’ve been gathering intel, chasing loose ends, and hitting rock bottom, they haven't even scratched the surface of finding the two. Now Laswell is saying this goliath of a woman can help them?

"How is she gonnae help us?" Soap said, turning in his chair and lifting his chin to look at the woman behind him.

But the woman never looked down to meet his eyes. She looked straight ahead and met the eyes of Kate Laswell.

Kate stared at [name] for a hard minute. And only after did she start to speak.

“You can hate it, you can love it, but either way,” Kate said, keeping her eyes on [name], “either way she’s on your team.” In that exact moment it felt as though Kate was talking to [name]. Generalizing the sentence but directing it towards the woman. Kate, looking at [name] still, knew her hands were being clenched behind her back. Nails digging painfully into the skin of her palms. The same skin that was being reopened.

A heavy sigh interrupted the moment. Captain Price rubbing his forehead while looking to the side at Kate. “And we got no say in this matter?” He said after a moment, directing his eyes to meet with yours.

“No, John.” Kate said, walking around the table to the door behind you discreetly touching your back and squeezing. We’ll talk later. “Not even you can change this decision.” Then, she left.

He sighed again. “No offense to you, Colonel,” He said after a moment. He stood and walked the length of the table, like Kate did moments before, to stand in between the space you had between yourself and the table. “But if you want to stay, and yes, I do have a say in that matter, then earn your keep. You hear?” You could hear as hint of venom in his voice, masked by the deep rumble of his voice.

“None taken, Captain.” You matched his stare. “But do you really think the higher ups will take me out the team just because of petty hostility towards a new teammate?”

While you were tall, Price was much taller. Standing straight at what looks like 6’8 from your position and piercing you with a hard sea colored stare. In a situation like this, you were supposed to crane your neck to meet his eyes. Supposed to. However, you kept your face and head straight. Only lifting your eyes to match his stare.

“Only if that temporary presence in this team can’t control their mouth.”

A presence behind you, not close enough to feel their body pressed against you, but enough to imagine it. You knew it was Ghost because of how he snuck up on you. Waiting until you were engrossed in this little staring contest with his Captain to pounce.

Like a shadow.

Only then, did you realize the situation you were in. In the middle of two big men, in a room filled with two more equally big men. What have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know Lieutenant,” You turn around partially at the waist to face the man behind you. Eyeing the glaring chocolate eyes behind the pale white of the skull mask. “Life always has its ups and downs doesn’t it?”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

161 notes · View notes

god-complex-12 · 5 months

Text

Atychiphobia

— Paring; Capt. John Price x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Atychiphobia: (n.) fear of failure; fear of not being good enough

Quote; “You’re perfect.” “Not anymore.”

Description; An Angel falling in love with a human is sinful is the face of judgment, and is to be dissipated. Disclaimer; Reader is an Angel. Religious based. Christianity. Talks of sinning. Reader is a fallen Angel. Descriptions of pain. Not an accurate representation of the religion. God is referred to as “Father”. Kissing. Tears. Praying. Begging for forgiveness. More of the reader’s relationship with God rather than the reader’s relationship with John. Religious trauma.

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

Over the hundreds and hundreds of years Y/N has lived, he has never once thought he would find himself here. Y/N loved being a Guardian Angel. He found a passion for protecting those who deserve it, and that feeling of joy he got when his Father assigned him to a human was indescribable. It was no different when he was assigned Jonathan Price.

As the Angel slowly worked his way into the man’s life, over years of working with him. He found an attachment to the man, but brushed it off because he does that with every human. He finds himself in Task Force 141, second in command to Captain John Price. Though it wasn’t hard for the Angel to work himself up to that status and he could even surpass Jonathan, but he doesn’t need a high status. All Y/N needs is to watch over this man.

“Jonathan, you shouldn’t smoke so much.” Y/N said, placing a warm cup of tea onto his desk.

John’s eyes flickered to meet Y/N’s. “Why do you call me that?” He asked suddenly, putting out the cigar in the ashtray. “You’re the only person I know that calls me by my full name.”

Y/N smiled warmly and shrugged. “I’ve just grown accustomed to it.”

Then there was a brief silence. They stared at each other, almost longingly. John breaks away first with a deep breath. He straightens himself in his seat and grabs the cup. “Thank you, Y/N. For the tea.”

Y/N nodded. “Do you need any help?”

John paused, looking over at the paperwork. He knew he could finish it within an hour, but he wanted Y/N to stay.

It seemed with every passing second they grew closer. Accidental touches turned into purposeful ones. A tension growing with each glance stolen, begging to be snapped. Those late night meetings, turning into late night talks, turning into something more intimate.

Y/N’s hand holds the side of John’s neck as they kiss. The other kept him propped up on the desk. John is standing between Y/N’s legs, his hands on the Angel’s thighs. John pulls back only to whisper, “You’re perfect.”

Y/N hopes his Father will forgive him for this. He shook his head. “Not anymore..” He whispered back, but before John could respond, Y/N’s lips found his.

But in the face of judgment, his Father had no mercy. Y/N was dissipated from heaven the minute he got to report back. The Angel finds himself kneeled in his room with an unfathomable pain shooting from his back as his wings are ripped from his body completely. Even if it can’t be seen, it can be felt. He’s biting his own hand to muffle his screams as he writhes in pain. Blood soaks into his shirt and he finds himself clawing desperately to get off.

Y/N shakily pulls himself to his knees, resting his head on the side of his bed. He puts his hands together and whispers a prayer through his pained sob. He failed to notice his barrack door open.

“Y/N?” John asked, terrified by the bloodied sight before him. He rushed to Y/N’s side. “Y/N what happened?”

Y/N doesn’t respond as he continues to beg for forgiveness from a God who is doubtful to listen.

————

Part II

237 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

Note

Hello hope you are feelling better❣️ if you have mood can you do price with younger s/o and how 141 react to it?

A/n. I love Price and his stupid bucket hat

It wasn’t that much of a shock to Gaz nor the 141 task force when John let it slip he was married. To be honest no one really remembers how they even gotten onto the topic, it was a shock however when the group had found out you were an American, Johnny seemed to love teasing the man, joking about a Brit falling for an American.

Of course that all changed the moment you slipped into the bar where they were all drinking. Alejandro made a quiet comment about how pretty you were though it was Johnny that loudly called to you. Your head quickly snapping towards the voices. A bright sunny smile on your face despite the gloomy London weather.

“Gaz.”

“Hey Y/n.”

Tipping your head to the three mean you stepped closer to the table. “You going to introduce me or should I do it myself.”

Clearing out his throat, John pushed the chair away then walked over to his. His arm slipping around your waist. “This is Y/n…my wife.”

Johnny nearly choked on his beer, the man still reeling the Captain could pull someone like you, Alejandro tried to hide his shock but he still gave John a smile, the man did look happier now that you were standing next to him and Simon seemed to be the less shocked. Having seemed to already know this information.

Snapping out of his shock, Johnny blinked a few times. “I..so why did you.”

“I work for Laswell….before you all get your panties in a twist.” You gave the man a teasing smile. Johnny flushed turning his head away as Simon let out snort.

“So what is it that you do.”

Before you could answer, you felt Price tighten his hold on your hip, Gaz answering the question for you.

“Y/n is one of CIA’s best agent, hack into anything. You should see em decoding, it’s kinda memorizing.”

Johnny still trying wrap his mind around it,he shifted in his seat as he watch Price keep you close, he watched the man place a small kiss to your neck as you let out an airy laugh.

“That how you two met?”

Sighing, you glanced up at John then smiled pinching his cheeks. “Met him thanks to Laswell, it was a bit rocky at first. You wouldn’t believe how stubborn this man is but one thing led to another and well I guess I’m a tea drinker now.”

John let out a snort, he doubted that he could ever stop you from drinking coffee, though he wasn’t going to complain. Not when you left the U.S for him.

“Have tea? Is there what they call it now?” Johnny teased.

“Soap.”

Price flushed then let out an annoyed grunt as you let out a soft laugh giving the man a smirk. “Don’t go giving all my secrets away.” You lent back into your husbands embrace, John tugging his hat further down his face.

It was plainly obvious to the 141 tasks force that you both loved each other deeply and that all that really mattered to the team.

2K notes · View notes

owlcomics101 · 25 days

Text

”Zoomies.” Task force 141 x Cheetah hybrid!user

Warning: SFW (I am a minor), fluff, cussing/swearing, cat shenanigans

You were a cheetah hybrid. You had the cheetah ears, tail, fangs, and feet paws. You were a great asset to the task force for your speed and agility accept, there was one problem; You get the ‘zoomies’. If you have an off day or a mission that didn’t involve a full on chase. All that built up energy needed to be released at some point. You were sitting in Price’s office, helping him out with some reports when your legs started to bounce. Your fingers tap against the table anxiously as you held one of the files in your hands and tried to focus on reading it. Price looked away from his computer screen-noticing your fidgeting.

“You alright there Y/N?” He asked with a skeptical brow, to which you tried to play it off with a head nod before going back to your paper. Price cocked his head to the side seeing your tail thrashing back and forth violently and smacking against your chair. He couldn’t help but slightly smirk in amusement.

“You’re fidgeting, love.” He points out. You let out a huff looking away from him.

“No-……So what? I’m just a bit finicky right now….” You grumble, griping the paper tightly until your knuckles turned white. Price couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Look, if we get this done I’ll take you outside. How does that sound?” He tried offering a compromise, trying to have something to motivate you to work. Your ears couldn’t help but perk up at the offer.

“Really?” You asked with a low purr rumbling in your throat“Really, mate.” Price replied. Amused by your low purr that you hadn’t even noticed occur. Your ears rested flat against your head as you went right to work, determined to finish early before it was lights out for everyone. Price let out a small sigh of relief. Finally getting your ‘zoomies’ under control. That was until there was a large thud in the hallway. Price immediately got up from his desk and walked over to the door and opened it to see what the racket was all about.

“What the bloody hell is going on out here!?” Price shouts, only to be met with Soap being chased by Ghost down the hall. Gaz on the floor who seemed to have been caught by surprised and trampled by the two, but Gaz was just too fed up with them to get up anymore.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK JOHHNY-RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CUT YOUR BLOODY TONGUE OFF!” Ghost shouts. Your ears perk up at this as you look over to see Ghost tackling Soap to the ground and attempting to choke Soap out.

“Y-You c-an’t escape the t-truth L.T!” Soap said between choked breaths. Price storming over and pulling Ghost off of Soap.

“Would you muppets cut the shitte out!? Y/N are trying to get some fucking work done and you two are just sitting here acting like childr-“

“Uhh…..guys?” Gaz interrupts Price slowly standing to his feet.

“What!?” Price snaps looking back at Gaz before his eyes widen. All four of them see you staring back at them with dilated pupils and teeth bared, your shoulders slightly shifting as if your getting ready to pounce.

“Oh shit….” Soap muttered

“Fucking hell-“ Ghost was cut off by you bolting out of Price’s office and sprinting towards them. Soap struggled to get up as they all panicked trying to get out of the way but just kept bumping into each other like a pair of idiots.

“Y/N no-Please just take a moment to breathe-“ Price tried to deescalate the situation but you immediately tackled him to the ground. Knocking the air straight out of him as he wheezed. You looked down at Price before looking back up to see Soap running ahead.

“Soap stop running!-Your gonna give Y/N the wrong idea-“ Ghost tried to get Soap to stop but you used Ghost as a boost and jumped onto Ghost’s shoulders and jump off to tackle Soap.

Cut to the team lying in makeshift beds in the infirmary, all of them covered in head to toe with bruises and scratches from you. You were given catnip to ‘calm down’. They all stared at you playing with a toy mouse. All of them still out of breath and wheezing from the chase. Ghost and Soap will think twice before arguing with each other again.

#captain john price #cod #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #task force x reader #task force 141

274 notes · View notes

babygirl-riley · 8 months

Text

Lies Pt. 2

It’s been a few months after you quit the Task Force. You go out with friends to a dancing club, little did you know 141 would be there celebrating.

Warnings: angst, depression, anxiety, mental break downs, fluff, smut, interrupted sex :(, happy ending

A/N: Here are the people who asked for part 2! So little tag list I guess 🫶🏻 @fullmoon-84 @kerst666 I tried to do the others in the comments in part 1 but wasn’t working!

“You look good as the day I met you, I forgot just why I left you.”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt. 1 Alternative Ending

It has been an emotional rollercoaster for you, it felt amazing to not be in the task force. Finding a small ma and pa shop to work for. However, you felt empty. You would look around your apartment to see where Simon would be. Where he would sit and drink his tea. Or hold you close in the morning. Or wrap his arms around you while cooking. None of that was there.

You wanted to call Price and ask to come back but pride came into your veins. You didn’t want to look ridiculous after the whole ordeal. That was almost 6 months ago. 6 months ago quitting the team. 6 months ago not seeing Simon. 6 months of healing.

Fortunately what came with the ma and pa shop came with friends. They didn’t know you were an SAS before, they only know the made up story of moving from the US to here in England. Throughout the time with them they would invite you out to the city, clubbing to little lunch ins.

Tonight was the night of bar hopping and dancing. It is a much needed one for sure. You wore a tight red dress, that would make out your body shape. Little short up to your thigh but it was needed. Heels and hair down. Simple make up. The usual. When getting to the bar, the air was filled with positive energy. People grinding on each other to just casual talk with drinks.

You usually don’t dance with anyone but the girls you go with. You couldn’t look at any other man without seeing Simon. So men was off the table. The first round of shots got you into the nice buzz, rocking your hips to the rhythm of each song. Laughing and dancing with your friends it was a good time.

Until one of your friends disappeared with drinks and a man. “Y/n?” Your eyes snapped open and was face to face with Soap.

Your friends looked over at you with curious eyes. “Soap?” You said hesitantly, immediately looking around.

“It’s been a while.” He hugged you tightly before smiling over at the friend. “Old co-worker yeah!”

You nodded smiling. “Yeah we used to work together.”

The girls smiled huge. “That’s fun you both knew each other.”

“Yeah,” Soap said staring. “Simon is here.” You snapped your eyes at Soap. “He’s over there.” You followed his finger towards the direction he was pointing at. There he was, sitting next to Price at the bar, back facing away.

Your heart dropped thinking of all the days and months that you had healed go into the drain. The want of talking, touching, hearing him flooding back. “He talks about ya.” He said. “Should go talk to him. We here celebratin’ but he mostly will want to talk.”

You nodded once before looking at the girls who encouraged you to go. They all scattered off as Soap dances with one of them and the other two left with each other. You slowly walked up as the fast rhythm and your heartbeat became in sync. You heard Price yelling over the music before barely looking over his shoulder to see you.

His eyes widened but his smirk was bigger. “I’ll let ya two catch up.”

Simon glanced behind him as well. His eyes dropping as he of course wore a balaclava mask. Before Simon said anything Price was gone and Gaz disappeared. You both stared at each other for a moment, Simon couldn’t believe his eyes. You were gorgeous as the day he lost you.

His hands became clammy, his heart raced, his mind frozen. Simon didn’t know what to do or say. Neither did you. You bite your lower lip trying to find something. “Uh hi.” You whispered.

Simon didn’t hear you from the music but he saw the words form on your mouth. “Come sit.” He asked gently but loud enough to hear him.

When you got closer he smelt that beautiful scent he had been missing. The musk of vanilla and trees, he wondered if it was from your perfume he enjoyed. Then he wondered if you were already with a man that loved that scent too and wore it for him. His mind couldn’t think straight, after the months he tried to heal so the you gone has been…well…not so good.

His anger would take over and his patience was thin. Especially with new recruits, eventually Price had to switch Soap and him so he could have a break from training. Sent him on short leave and missions to keep Simon occupied. Price knew that it broke Simon’s heart even if Ghost didn’t let him see that.

Yes Ghost. Ghost was the impatient and angry ball of hate. Simon was cornered into a small room trying to fight the urge to cry. To scream. Ghost had to protect Simon from the heartache. He couldn’t let Simon fall apart now, he had to be focused for the team.

Now you sat there next to him everything tumbled. Ghost was frozen as Simon poked through, Ghost trying to put Simon back into place. Simon tried was terrified, he had almost had a handle on it but now you’re here. He wanted to hold you. Touch you anything to know you are back.

“I can see you’re mad at me.” You said as a glass was handed to you.

Simon snapped his head over realizing you asked something. “‘M not.” He said shortly, smacking himself for being short.

“Right.” You said softly drinking your glass.

You saw right through him, he was hurt. In pain like you are, wanting each other but didn’t know how to handle it. Simon knew that as well, you read him better than he did himself. “Fine I am.” He mumbled shooting his whiskey back. “I’m bloody upset you left without another glance.”

You frowned, you could have given him a chance. It was just too much for you, all the heartache all at once. “I had to.”

Simon looked over at you and frowned underneath his mask. He knew that. He would have done the same thing. “I know.”

You looked over at him eyes glossing from tears threatening to leave. You looked away just as fast as you looked over at him. Complicated. It always has been complicated for the both of you. Hiding your relationship to this. You sighed. “My place is close here, we can probably talk better there.”

Simon glanced over, they could barely hear each other. He wants you back but for what cost? Simon sighed and nodded. “‘Ight.”

With that you both left, you made sure to text the girls you were leaving. One of them wanted all the details after. That made your eyes roll knowing what she actually meant. However, you know better not to play that game. The walk to your apartment was quiet, it usually was between the two of you, sharing the best company. This time though it was different, awkward silence, you wanted to say something but waited until both you settled into your apartment.

Simon was felt sad when walking in, remembering the things they used to do causally around the apartment. You took your heels off, his eyes wonder to your ass, quickly he looked away. He doesn’t need to stare, it’s been months, and who knows if you have moved on. He wondered in more looking at anything a miss or something newer.

Like a man. Clothing. Scent. Items. Only to be left with just your scent, clothing, items. His eyes landed on a bracelet on the book shelf near your door. The one that he gave you. The one that his mother wore. He reached out to grab it, holding it, he was surprised you still had it. “I didn’t want to get rid of it,” You spoke softly, making him turn. “I wanted to give it to you but…it was the only thing I had of you.”

Simon looked back down at the bracelet. The words ringing in his head, it was the only thing I had of you. He sighed quietly placing it back down. “Tea?” You asked already having a pot on the stove.

“Ya still have…” He paused watching you wiggle it in the air. He smiled softly before huffing in amusement. “Didn’t get rid of a lot did ya?”

You scoffed. “No.”

He walked over to your island and sat on a bar stool. “Why did you leave?”

You froze as you stared at the mugs for a moment. “You know why.”

Simon glared for a moment before inhaling deeply. “‘Ight why didn’t ya give me a chance?”

“Because you lied,” You sighed calmly stating the obvious. “You broke a promise that you did not keep. To protect me. Instead you hurt and lied to me.”

“Ya know better than anyone that I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t mean something.” He said softly.

“And I didn’t mean anything?” You said, noticing the venom slipping in. You winced at the statement, you knew it was rude. But how long you have been wanting to talk to him. Wanting to know everything. All the pain you had.

“You know that isn’t true.” He said his stern voice also coming through.

You turned leaning your back against the stove. “Really? I get it best for the team or the mission. But everyone Simon? Everyone knew but me and Samson. I was the only one grieving for you. Wishing I had did something to prevent it. When the whole fucking time it was.”

Simon didn’t say anything for a moment. “It was for the mission I had to in order to get Samson out. So we could get closer to the Russians, sometimes we have to sacrifice things in our work.”

You laughed rolling your eyes. “Sacrifice things? No this was not a sacrifice this was a hoax, a mock. That’s how it felt. You all used me for my feelings, you all knew that it would have broke me. So why did I not give anyone a chance because I can’t go through that heartache again!”

He stood up once your voice raised, Simon shook his head. “It was never a hoax! It was never meant to be a hoax!”

“But it was,” You said standing your ground. “You may not want to accept it Simon but it was. Instead of stating that it was wrong you make it a valiant effort for the team!”

“Ya right I make it so bloody valiant for everyone! I didn’t care ‘bout how ya felt! I didn’t try to beg Price not to do it over and over,” Simon was now out, all the pain and feelings that he had suffered came flooding out. He ripped his mask off throwing across the room. “I didn’t stop ‘em from hurting ya! I didn’t walk in when you wailed! I didn’t…”

Your ears rang, watching all the emotions leaving Simon’s body. Your heart broke, you didn’t think that he would say or even show the feelings. You reached out to place a hand on his cheek, feeling your anger being cooled as you watch him flinch.

Simon didn’t expect you to touch him, especially when yelling at you. He has never yelled at you. He stopped talking feeling your soft hands on his stubbles cheek. He was heaving a bit, didn’t realize that tears spilling from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You whispered once it felt like hours of no talking.

Simon sighed closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I should be s’rry, I left you behind.”

“We left each other behind.” You whispered again walking forward placing your other hand on his cheek. He grabbed both of of your wrist closing his eyes. The feeling of warmth radiated through his chest as you stroke your thumbs across his cheekbones.

“I never meant to hurt you.” He whispered as you stood on your tippy toes. Kissing his tears that started to fall.

“Shh.” You whispered as his hands fell to your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him close. Your noses touching each other softly. “I never wanted to either Simon.”

You both stared at each other, he glanced at your lips. Both of you slowly moving ever so closer to each other. You begged for him to kiss you, to place his lips against yours. Feeling each other’s feelings, show each other how much you missed each other. “Can I kiss you.” He whispered.

You nodded once as he closed the gap as his kiss gently pressed against yours. At first it was soft gentle. Like it was the first time you both kissed, then his hands squeezed at your hips. You brushed your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for access. He opened his mouth and next thing you knew if you both were clawing at each others clothes. Mouths fighting for dominance, teeth clashing, lip biting.

He backed you into a wall as he hoisted you up to give a better access to your neck. Simon sighed as he bite your neck before kissing it softly. “I missed you, I missed you so fucking much.” He whispered grinding up to your clothed cunt.

You gripped his blond locks. God how you missed him, his touch, his voice, fuck his kisses. You both grinding on each other like fucking teenagers, gripping areas. “I need you Si.” You whispered as his hands rolled up your dress up to your lower abdomen.

Simon smirked as he looked over you. “We got to take this,” He started to push it up more moaning as he noticed your breast had no other covering. “Let’s take this off ya?”

Before you knew it, he wrapped his hands around your back before tearing the back. You gasped. “Simon! This was my favorite.” You snapped laughing as it fell to the floor.

His eyes looking over your body as he placed your legs down. “I’ll get ya another one,” He started to get to his knees, softly scraping your hips to your thighs, then your ankles. “But first I am gonna treat ya.”

You bite your lower lip has he rubbed his hands up your thighs, kissing your inner thighs. Sloppy messy kisses. He bit hard into your thigh causing your eyes to roll. “Stop teasing.” You whined holding his hair.

Simon smirked, god how he loved hearing that desperate tone. “Yes ma’am.” Your eyes rolled as his tongue made a strip from your needy hole to your clit.

You groaned out lifting your leg over his shoulder as he helped you, placing it gently before making circles on your skin. He moaned as he licked your cunt slowly. “Fuck how much I missed your taste lovie.”

You sighed as one of his fingers probed your entrance. He pushed his middle finger inside of you, goood how he wanted to cum right there. He could tell that you were tight and he thought how his dick would feel inside you right now.

And god how you forgot how his fingers felt, without his cock it made you feel whole. He started to slowly pump his one finger in and out of you before adding the second one. You gasped as he sucked on you clit making you basically squeal with delight.

Simon looked up at you, watching your back arch, eyes rolling back, your hips grinding on his mouth. It was like he was in a dream, god the noises you made for him made everything stir inside. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” He mumbled slurping your juices as he watched it slowly drip down his wrist. “I missed ya, fuck. Taste so fucking good.”

The words were going straight to your core, you started to reach anywhere on him. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and closed for your release. “Fuck Si don’t stop please please please please!” His fingers pumped harder and faster, hitting that fucking spot that made your toes curl. His lips sucked you clit as you screamed his name over and over again.

Simon moaned as you gripped his hair and stilled as your orgasm hits you hard. You kept gasping trying to recollect yourself, your mind hazed, your body buzzing with delight. You heard Simon slurping your release, making you moan. Your ears were ringing and the tea pot…

The tea pot! You snapped your head over to the pot that was screaming for someone to grab it. You quickly detached your leg from his shoulder as his hand pressed against you abdomen. “Let it scream love.” He kissed your thigh, you chuckled leveling down with him.

“Simon Riley saying to leave the tea alone,” You teased, watching his eyes, which was blown with lust and love. You kissed his lips tasting yourself on him, swiping your tongue in his mouth. “Let me set it aside and then we take care of you.”

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost #simon ghost x you

363 notes · View notes