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longing-for-the-past-times · 9 months

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their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick

task force 141 x reader headcanons

synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm

notes: can you tell who is my favourite?

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

find it on a03 masterlist

Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet

He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour

He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know

That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.

John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-

"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.

"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"

"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.

"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.

"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"

Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.

He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.

The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.

So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas

One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.

"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"

From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes

There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission

In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out

It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it

Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.

Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him

"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.

"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "…just a little cold, I guess"

You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms

When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.

You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.

His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips

The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed

You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug

He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue

He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-

So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?

"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"

His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves

"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"

You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one

"Then I guess we are going down together"

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips

It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work

"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"

He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth

"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"

You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.

"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"What even is a jiffy?"

But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.

So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it

Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually

A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose

"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment

"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"

He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them

He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma

Why do his lips taste like cherries?

He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.

"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"

"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"

"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."

"Never said I was."

He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.

Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment

He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.

The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was

You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.

"I believe you are looking for this?"

He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.

"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"

"Here, let me help you!"

Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.

In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth

Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you

Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his

Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face

He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you

"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"

You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.

"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.

"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"

Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth

Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips

"Yeah, I think I got it all…"

You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack

"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"

You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before

"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"

Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground

"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.

"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"

"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"

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alwaysshallow · 8 months

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i like sometimes to imagine the shocked faces of soap, gaz and ghost when they found out that price has a wife.

what's better to it - it's not his highschool sweetheart, it's not someone he met way before 141 was formed. no, it's someone that they have seen too and it's a cute bartender from his favorite bar he always took them after successful mission.

no one suspected anything, but after seeing you in his arms, your ring glistening in the warm sun of mexico when you scolded their captain, they put puzzles together.

his little trips to "bring drinks for everyone"? just an excuse to talk to you - a fifteen minute excuse, and he explained himself with "long line to bar" when soap whined what took him so long.

his stubborness to go to your bar, not anywhere else, when gaz suggested place somewhere closer to the base, so one of them wouldn't be a driver. price offered himself.

his smile when you brought them drinks "on the house" - not because you liked them so much, but because you liked price so much. rest of the boys were just... in the package.

#cod x reader #john price #mw2 #cod mw2 #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain john price #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #call of duty #price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #task force 141 imagine

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certifiedyapperx · 2 months

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simon riley drabble • 18+

okay but like imagine you’re a member of task force 141 and you and simon have been secretly fucking for a few weeks just to ‘relieve stress’ in downtimes and in order to keep your minds focused on the tasks at hand.

which has been fine except for this very moment bc the way he’s looking at you from the opposite side of the heli has you reliving the events from earlier that morning and you find yourself staring at him for way too long before someone finally calls your name and snaps you out of it.

and even though you’ve been careful about it all the guys have their suspicions. but you two play it off so goddamn well because ghost is literally emotionless and they’re damn well convinced there’s no fucking way you’d sleep with any member of the team after having been part of it for so long and turning each one of them down a million times over. they were certain that at this point, you just obviously didn’t like men.

and that was partially correct. you didn’t like men--you liked one man. a fucking hell of a lot.

simon riley fucked you so hard so passionately and so fucking relentlessly that you could have no interest in other men. the man was insatiable. a gnawing craving eating away at his insides, a hunger that only you and you alone could sate.

the second you two were back to base, he’d drag you into the nearest fucking room and fuck you until you cried while covering your mouth to make sure no one heard a damn sound.

it was as though it was a game to him, a challenge to see how many times the two of could you fuck before you aroused suspicion, before you got caught. how close to the guys could you get, how many orgasms you could have before you broke entirely. every time you fucked it was like he was trying to set a new record.

and every time, he did just that.

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qtboni · 11 months

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╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Despite Simon's difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you.

C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses, don't worry.

W/C: 1.3k bubs

Little gestures demonstrate Simon's deep affection for you.

So it's not unusual for you to find a steaming hot coffee sitting on top of your desk, with a sticky note on it, greeting you a nice 'Have A Great Day,' and an affirming 'I Love You.' message at the end.

This small but meaningful gesture of affection is one of the many ways Simon shows you how much he cares, even when he struggles to express his emotions verbally. It's a small but powerful reminder that you matter to him and that he's always thinking of you, even while pursuing his calling as a soldier, as a lieutenant.

Regardless of the day or circumstances, you can always count on this tiny but thoughtful act of kindness from Simon.

You set the coffee cup down, feeling warm and cared for by the lovely gesture. And as you start your day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. Even when he's not physically present, you know that his love is always with you, and that's more than enough.

So you smile, take a deep breath, and start your day with a clear mind and a full heart, knowing that you're one of the lucky ones who has a partner that cares so deeply.

You have Simon, and that's more than just a sticky note with a sweet message - that's true love, and it's something you cherish every day.

As you take another sip of the coffee, you look up and see Simon standing in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey," he whispered.

Today was one of the days when Simon got to escape the monotony of daily military duties and just relax at home with you. He had traded in his usual military fatigues for a cozy black t-shirt and sweatpants, giving him a chance to take it easy. He even left his famous skull mask and balaclava behind, a sign of just how much he trusted you as his significant other.

Instead of the formidable Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley, the fearless soldier, here you saw a soft-spoken Simon, your Simon, who had let down his guards and chosen to be vulnerable with you. It was a moment of pure intimacy between the two of you, a precious break from the chaos of the world outside.

"How's the coffee?" He continued, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Is it to your liking?"

"Of course it is," you reply, smiling at him. "I always appreciate it when you take the time to do something like this for me."

It's a small thing, but it means a lot.

Simon's face lights up as you speak, and he takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You can see the love in his eyes, even though he isn't always the best at showing it with words. "I'm glad you like it," he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You feel your heart swelling with emotion, and you lean forward to give him a kiss. "I love you, Si'," you whisper. "And I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you."

With a smile on his face, Simon leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You both savor the moment, savoring the warmth of the coffee, the love that you share, and the comfort of each other's arms.

As you slowly pull away, Simon looks into your eyes, his expression softer and more open than usual. You can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes, and you feel a warmth in your chest that you've never felt before.

"I love you too," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I don't know how I'd get through life without you by my side."

You smile, feeling a swell of love in your heart. Simon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, you both just stand there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence.

It's a small moment, but to you, it's everything.

After sharing another smile, Simon goes back to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. The sound of the refrigerator opening and closing fills the room as he takes out the creamer.

"Sugar?" Simon asks with a grin, gesturing towards the sugar jar.

"Yeah, just a pinch," you reply with a smile.

Simon adds a little bit of sugar to your cup and then to his. As the steam rises from the hot coffee, Simon takes a sip from his cup and lets out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, that hits the spot!" he says with a smile.

You also take a sip of your coffee and let out a contented sigh. "It's perfect, as always," you say, looking up at Simon.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling back at you. "I just wanted to show you a little extra affection this morning." He shyly averts his gaze from yours, blushing as he do so.

"Well, it definitely wasn't necessary, since you always make me feel loved and appreciated," you say with a smile. "But it was still a really sweet gesture, means a lot to me."

Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, seemingly lost in thought. "I just... I know that I'm not always the best at showing you how much I love you with words," he says after a few moments. "So I wanted to do something to make sure you know that I care."

"Simon," you say, putting your cup down on the table. You walked up to where he was standing and cupped his face gently, caressing as you do so. "You don't need to worry about that. I know that you love me. And as much as I love those little notes and gestures, it's the everyday things that you do that show how much you care. Like making me coffee in the morning... you're always there for me, no matter what. And that means more to me than anything else in the world."

Simon looks at you with a soft smile on his face, his eyes shining with adoration. And for a moment, you both just sit there in silence, basking in the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.

Simon takes a deep breath, feeling the warmth from your hands and the love in your words. He looks into your eyes and sees the love and gratitude that you have for him. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world, to have someone like you by his side.

"You're everything to me, you know that?" Simon leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. It's a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the love and affection he has in his heart. In that moment, you both know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

With a soft smile on your face, you lean back, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup in your hands and the warmth from Simon's love in your heart. It's a moment of pure contentment, a reminder of just how fortunate you are to have each other.

You pecked his cheeks so softly, and Simon can't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him. Your kind words fill his heart with joy and he appreciates the love and support you provide him on a daily basis.

He knows that he doesn't always show it, but being able to show himself in this vulnerable state makes him realize just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

You make him feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he is so grateful for it. You are his everything, and he can’t imagine living his life without you. "Thank you for being my person, my love. I love you."

A/N: Here is my take on a cod character! I know it's not the best and I might've made simon kinda ooc, but I just couldn't help but to have a softy Simon Riley today ><

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hunterbunter3000 · 8 months

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Can't stop thinking about an all woman Task Force coming to SAS and helping Task Force 141 + Kortac for a mission

Can't stop thinking about the male team waiting for the women to get here, expectations all different for each of them

Can't stop thinking about a huge, futuristic transport plane coming down to land, and Soap wondering why they don't have one that cool (And Ghost telling him to shut up)

Can't stop thinking about two women jumping out of the jet and play fighting, chasing each other and one pinning the other one down in a chokehold

Can't stop thinking about the absolute shock the men have on their faces when they see how fast they are, and how tall and big and pretty these two women are

Can't stop thinking about the giggling women standing up but get pushed forward by another girl, even taller and bigger than the other two, frowning at them and snapping at them to 'keep the line moving'

Can't stop thinking about more of the female team coming out of the plane, some with headphones on, some talking to each other, and some straight up ignoring the male team as they carry heavy cargo like it weights nothing

Can't stop thinking about how there's a K9 handler on the team and brought out these big ass wolf-dogs with spiked collars and one of them scares the shit out of Soap because it barked at him and she apologizes to him with a nervous smile (he's already in love)

Can't stop thinking about how the males can't stop goggling at these absolute beautiful women that pass them by who look like they're from the fucking island of Themyscira

Can't stop thinking about how Capitan Price and Ghost almost pass the hell out when they see the last two women get out of the plane, the tallest person they've ever seen in the front and a bit shorter one in the back

Can't stop thinking about how all the women have to bend down to go through the doors

Can't stop thinking about all the women finally introducing themselves with their call signs and the tallest one in the team (who almost broke their doors because she cant get through them) is the Capitan and her second in command is behind her

Can't stop thinking about the second in command giving Ghost a small nod with a soft smile, sending him in a spiral

Can't stop thinking about some of the girls crowding the men, cooing down at them about how cute they are and how muscular they are, pinching their flustered cheeks and curiously groping their overwhelmed bodies

Definitely can't stop thinking about how the men know they're absolutely fucked for these few months.

Can't. Stop. Thinkinnggggg.

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lovifie · 2 months

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Meeting Soap 🧼

Masterlist — OG Drabble - First Morning

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other’s body.

“Good morning, ma’am.” The guard at the door greets Simon, leaning down when he rolls down the window. He moves his sunglasses up to his head, resting his hand on the car roof. Simon looks at the guard with an astonished expression, making you wonder just how many of his expressions have you missed by the mask.

You chuckle for the side seat, catching the attention of the guard who quickly turns pale when he lays his eyes on you, surprising you just for a second before you remember you are in your boyfriend's body.

“G-Good morning, Lieutenant.” He says, standing straight. Simon covers his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile. He clears his throat to disguise his laugh and turns to the guard. “You know him, right? Can we get through, then? We have a meeting with Price.”

The guard quickly nods, pushing the button to open the gate and Simon drives the car inside the base. He glances at you when you laugh, smiling as well. “I could get used to this, Si.”

He laughs softly shaking his head. “Don’t get high on power now, love” He parks onto his spot, turns off the engine and turns to you. “Alright, love. We need to talk to Price.”

“Your captain.” You remember nodding.

“Exactly, my captain. Older lad, big mustache-”

“Wait, I don't have your accent!” You realize, looking at him.

“That's fine, I don't talk to people enough for them to realize if I suddenly don't have the accent. Only my team may notice, and we are looking for them, so no issue.” He explains, making you cock your head at the mention of not talking to people.

You nod, understanding what he means. “Alright, so… Price's your captain, and the other two; what were their names? Gaz and… Shampoo, was it?”

And it must be really amusing to him that you have remembered the names of his teammates for the way he chuckles at you. “Exactly, make sure to call them by those names, all right?”

You nod quickly. “Alright, I got it.” He nods as well and steps out of the car. You do as well and close the door after you, you turn to him when you hear him curse. “What's wrong?”

“The fuck are these?” He asks, and then you notice him fight with his pockets, making you laugh. He looks back at you, annoyed with the pockets.

“Use the back ones.” You say pointing to your butt. “Or let me keep them, you are not leaving me here anyway, right?”

He shoves the keys in his back pocket and starts to walk grabbing your hand to walk together. “His office is down that way, J. Price, got it?” He asks and you nod. “If he is in there, give me a call, alright? I'm gonna go check on the mess hall if the boys are there, call me if there is any problem.”

You feel a bit uneasy about being on your own on a military base, only knowing the names and nicknames of four men. Still, it looks like Simon must be someone people respect because of the way they move out of your way. You try to mimic the way Simon usually walks; looking straight ahead, always as if he knows where he is going and ready to kick out of the way anybody who gets in the middle.

The captain's office is easy to find and you knock on the door, leaning in to hear if anybody says anything inside. When you don't hear anything, you turn around to look for Simon, well, yourself.

Only to find him next to a man who is leaning against the door, and just by seeing Simon's disgusted face you know he is getting hit on.

Simon's POV

There is nobody he is looking for inside of the mess hall, so he turns around to exit when he collides with somebody that almost sends him flying back.

The feeling is so alien to him that it automatically annoys him, missing his bulldozer-like build. Strong hands grab his waist keeping him from falling and it only repuls him even more how easily the stranger can grab him.

“Careful there, bonnie.” A more than well-known voice says and he looks up to his teammate Soap. Well, Shampoo. The thought of you calling him that makes his smile for a second, which for his disgrace only fuels Soap to think this is okay. “Ye're right, lass?”

“Fucking peachy, mate.” He answers, pulling Soap's hand away from his body, hating the way he can tell he gets free just because Soap lets him peel the hands away. “Where is the old man?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused for a second before he figures out and he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Aahh, you are looking for Price, bonnie?”

“Yeah, right, Price. Have you seen him?” Simon asks, pushing Soap's hand out of his shoulder.

“Not yet, I'm pretty sure he is still coming back from a meeting downtown.” He says smiling, using the hand he pushed off his shoulder to brush his hair back as if it was his plan all along, flexing his arm’s muscles in the process making Ghost cringe. “But I can take ye to his office, keep ye company if ye want. I'm a great talker.”

“No, thank you.” Ghost simply says, before he tries to move away, getting exasperated with the way his mate is flirting with him. If only he had ever talked to them about you, if they had shown them a photo, something, he wouldn't have to be dealing with his mutt of a friend.

But Soap can't be blamed, a cute little thing like you going around the base. For fucks sake, the first thing he saw of you was your butt sticking out the door when Simon was checking who was inside. Soap is ready to risk it all for you. Plus, there are some real weirdos on base, so he is going to stay close.

He doesn't need to stay away, because the moment Simon tries to walk away from him; he crashes against somebody again. Once more, being grabbed by the waist, this time by even bigger hands. He is ready to fight but then he realises it is his body, which means is you.

“Ah, thank god it's you, I was about to-”

“Careful there, love. You almost fell for me, am I right?” You ask, pulling Ghost plush against your body. He looks at you as if you just grew a second head which makes you want to burst out laughing.

“The fuck is wrong with you, love?” He ask, eyebrow raised.

“The only thing wrong is that you don't have my surname, love. How will people know you are mine, hm?” You ask, leaning down and making a kissy face hidden by the mask.

Ghost chuckles shaking his head, amused by your lack of shame as he puts a hand over your mouth pushing you back. You laugh as well standing back straight, you check he didn't get hurt with the crush and then look at the guy behind him.

You have never seen him before, you just know he has the most confused expression the man can have. Completely immobile, borderline afraid and you need to fight the intrusive thoughts of just suddenly moving just to scare him.

There are many things going on inside of Soap’s head at the moment, he was happy he had found Ghost, happy to talk to such a pretty thing even if she seemed disinterested. He was going to get pissed somebody else got in the way, but he was then relieved that it was his LT; knowing the man was never interested in girls. Only for his stoic CO to start pulling the worst pickup lines in history; Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, shamelessly flirting with a girl. And on top of everything, it was working!

“That's Johnny.” Ghost whispers covering his mouth so the other man doesn't hear.

“Who the fuck is Johnny?” You ask back the same way, Johnny not being one of the three names you know.

“Shampoo.” Ghost answers snickers hiding behind his words.

“Oh, hey, Shampoo, how you doing my guy?” You ask, giving your best impression of what you think your boyfriend would do. Obviously doing a horrible job by the way the other man looks at you when you clap his hand. You definitely need to talk to Simon about how he behaves around his friend.

“Are ye feelin’ all right, Lt?” The shorter man asks, confusion still flooding his senses.

But he is not the only one confused, because what the hell does Lt means? Is that his nickname? And that is what breaks the act, you turn to your boyfriend before asking. “Your nickname is Lt? What does it stand for? Lil tits? You don't have small tits.”

Simon is infinitely glad that you only mumble the last part of your words, too low for the scot to hear. Not that the men would be able to take anything in, with how shocked he seems to be.

“Okay, there is no point in hiding it from you anyway, Johnny.” Simon says looking at him, not liking the feeling of Soap towering over him like a wall. “Something weird has happened.”

“No, that I can tell, bonnie.” He says grabbing Simon’s arm and pulling him close to him. “I think Lt must have hit his head or something.”

“No, no, Johnny. That's my girl.” He says, fighting off Johnny's grip on his arm. “We switched bodies someway.”

Soap looks at Johnny, an unreadable look on his face. Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like a cartoon. “Alright, wow, ye guys really planed that good. I almost believe it, that's a weird way to introduce yer girl to us, Lt.”

You rub your forehead thinking about how to prove it. “Okay, Shampoo. Honesty. What about what I have done or said today tells you that I'm him?”

“I have to admit it was quite credible. But c’mon, this is real life, those things don't happen.” Soap argues, not even caring about the nickname.

Ghost finds the situation amusing, his girl arguing with his best mate, seeing her grow exasperated with him. In any other situation, he would laugh, because he finds it amusing. Until he doesn't.

He doesn't find it funny because someone grabs him from behind. He turns around to see a rookie, he has only seen him a couple of times, and doesn't even know his name yet.

But the man is still way taller than him in this form and he easily overpowers him. It's different from Soap's approach, he quickly realizes. Because the scot was touchy and maybe stood too close for his liking but Ghost could easily push him back when he got too close.

This man? Ghost is using almost all his strength and he is unmoving. He is not used to this body, all the tricks he knows only work when he is double the size. He doesn't know how to take advantage of being the smaller one, not with this much difference.

“Come with me, c’mon, pretty thing.” The stupid rookie says. “I'll give you a good time.”

It brings Ghost bad memories of his childhood and his more recent past. Feeling at others' mercy, a feeling so familiar and alien at the same time; it only gets worse because he can feel himself get paralysed with fear.

“What did you say, dickhead?” A deep voice says over him, and when he looks back he sees himself. Ghost only has seen you mad once since he met you, you reached your limit and snapped when an idiot hit your car. Ghost was glued to the passenger seat on that occasion, not daring to get in the way of your anger but still looking at the mirror to see if he was needed. He wasn't.

He also knows that he is a scary fucker, everyone knows. But something inside him clicks when he realises that the idiot who grabbed him is about to regret it.

A gentle hand find her way to his lower back, keeping him in place and the other grabs the soldier's wrist. So hard his fingers twitch around Simon's arm letting go.

The hand on his back gently tug at him, moving him behind you; kind of in between Soap and you. You still don't let go of the man's hand, making sure that Simon is fine first. He looks still a bit shaken but something tells you is more an inside conflict than anything.

And once you are sure, you turn to the man. He isn't as cocky as he was just a moment ago, he is bending to the side you are grabbing him; pain pulling him.

“Now, what were you saying about a good time, bitch?” You spit at him, you pull your other hand back just to gain momentum and you hit in right in the middle of his face. No kind of technique whatsoever, but Simon's body shear strength enough to send the man's head back and forth like a whip before he falls back like a corpse on the floor.

Your hand hurts, but you know he is worse. And it is at that moment that you take notice of the crow you are calling, the lieutenant fighting somebody right on the mess hall door. A big show.

You hear Simon call you, but you still need to give a message to the asshole. You kick his feet, trying to wake him up; but he doesn't, so you crouch down slapping his face. You see him move his eyes behind his eyelids and you take it as proof of life.

“Remember that the next time you dare to touch a girl, okay, buddy?” You say, the men still not really answering and when Simon calls your name again you look at him standing up. Two new men behind him, not that you care.

You walk up to him, cupping his face, until one of the men says: “Simon, my office. Now.”

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie

Hi my lovelies 🩷🩷🩷

I am finally updating it, I have planned next to meet Price and Gaz and then after that I have little plot thought about it, so if there is any scenarios you are curious about let me know!!

The way I was laughing to myself with the Shampoo thing, like, so stupid.

Anyway, let me know if you liked it with a comment and I'll see you soon!!

@tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr

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konigsblog · 7 months

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do you write poly!141? i need it BAD 🙁🙁

i do write for poly!141 !!! any specific ideas you have in mind? 😵‍💫😵‍💫

walking in on johnny and gaz fucking eachother, they stop like a deer in the headlights, their veiny cocks rubbing against eachother and their lips puffy from making out with eachother sloppily.

probably convincing you to jerk them both off while bouncing down onto a lengthy dildo, making out with them while another sucks hickeys onto your neck. their cocks twitching in your grasp!!

gaz and price having their way with you :( making out with eachother while you take gaz down your throat, ploughed into by your captain who spares you no mercy while rutting his meaty cock into your wet, slick cunt! heavy balls snacking against your glistening cunt and your lips swollen from sucking off gaz :( moaning around him and listening to the sloppy sounds of kisses from above you.

simon fucking you while gaz and johnny admire the mess he makes of you! babbling and moaning for your asshole to be filled with a huge, thick cock! just a greedy little thing unable to control the way your pussy squeezed and tightens around ghost's lengthy shaft :(

#poly 141 #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x y/n #mw2 141 #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #cod soap #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #captain john price #john price #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x y/n #cod modern warfare #cod mw22

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fictionalmenxyn · 10 months

Text

Run Rabbit… run Rabbit run… run… run…

Tw:gunshots, injury, possible death, army action, usual military activity and swearing

TaskForce141 x Rabbit!y/n

Currently walking closely to the wall, holding your gun closely to your body. Your grip tightens when you heard footsteps coming your way, turning your silencer on, you got ready to shoot.

Seeing your target, you aimed and fired. You whispered to your radio “got one, Cap” you heard him respond “good one, Rabbit, keep moving.” You subconsciously nodded and moved forwards.

Moving into the room you were going to finish your mission in, you took down the targets and searched the room. Grabbing things that may be evidence you grabbed them and placed them into evidence bags and gently placed them into your backpack.

Heading out of the area, you carefully and quickly tried to get out of the place. Trying to get back to the remote area where the helicopter is based, you try to get back to safety.

You try running pass this one abandoned building but you tripped on some roots coming up from the floor. You felt something sharp graze your thigh, looking down you saw some broke glass stuck in a bush. You muttered “fuck.” Then your heard two men shout and start running towards you. You quickly got up and heard Price “Update?” As you ran you updated “two men chasing me, must of not been hear when I was.” Price said “ok, get out of there asap.”

As you started running the two men start to open fire and shoot anything the could see moving. As you were running Price could hear the gun shots over the radio so he stated “get out of there, run rabbit, run.”

You were so close to the helicopter, then it hit you. You felt a bullet puncture through your shoulder. You shouted in pain, you shouted “Cap!” You felt another bullet coming through your thigh.

You shouted for Price again, you saw him running out of the helicopter holding a gun. Then your vision started to go blurry, you saw a blurred Price running towards you and his echoing words “Rabbit?! Rabbit?! Gaz come here and get Rabbit in here!” Then your vision went black. Your hearing went silent. Your senses weakened and left.

Part two tomorrow if not the next day.

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saksukei · 9 months

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simon ‘ghost’ riley has a crush on you

masterlist | subtle things he does for you | simon my love

simon’s feelings hit him like a truck, as if he's a deer caught in the headlights. he only comes to realize it in the heat of the battle, chests heaving up and down as the two of you hide behind a wall for cover. you tell him to reload first and it's something so insignificant, so minute and yet it pieces things together for him. so he does what his first best. swallow the lump in his neck, ignore the swelling of his heart and focus on what’s next.

except

he sucks at it and boy is it evident.

it is so subtle though, subtle enough for it to slip under everyone’s radars including yours. except, captain price is no fool. he's known simon long enough to see the little change in his demeanor when you enter the room. how simon immediately sits up right, in his best posture, giving you a firm nod of acknowledgment.

how simon always looks your way, always. even when you’re not looking, he’ll still check what you're doing, where you are. it’s not intended to be creepy, it's just a form of reassurance that you’re alive, that you’re okay, that he has another chance to confess. (also the type to lean against the door frame and observe you)

what’s shocking is that even during his infamous cigarette breaks, he chooses to hang out with you. he adores the fact that it’s comfortable silence between the two of you. and more importantly, it contains the two best things he needs, silence and you. “what a view” he thinks to himself.

moreso, the lieutenant’s eye for detail is insane. simon is incredibly nuanced, he can notice when your mood is off, when you’re hurt, irritated or whatsoever. he tries to deal with the issue silently, like handing you a bottle of water, leaving a seat for you beside him, ensuring that he does most of the paper work and so on.

simon reacts at the speed of lightning if he notices you’re hurt or in range of fire. he remembers the one time he ran, grabbing you by the waist to make sure you don’t get shot. your small frame clinging against his, your body weight almost nothing to him and he felt lightheaded. he desperately wanted to keep you in his arms but he settles for asking, “you holdin’ up fine?” as he lets you out of his grip.

he enjoys bantering with you so much. such snide and snarky remarks all the time. from “what? can’t handle a little teasing from your superiors?” to “you know it's bad manners cussing behind your lieutenant’s back,” to “thought you were tough?” to “all that back talk, why don't you come and prove it?” he absolutely loves the reactions you give him.

moreso, when he begins getting more and more comfortable, he invites you eat lunch with him as opposed to with the rest of the soldiers. adores the fact that you both can converse without having eyes on the two of you. “plans for lunch?”

oh and of course, the most difficult moment of his life, when you reached forward on your tippy toes to fix his balaclava, simon thought he’d have a heart attack. took all of his strength to not lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “looking alright now?” he jokes, you can almost hear his smirk.

he hates the vulnerability, he does. but what he doesn't hate is the fact that it's you. it's you he’s being vulnerable with. and he repeats it to himself every night that you’re the best choice anyway.

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deebris · 2 months

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Seems like destiny

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After spending years in the bone marrow donation system, encouraged by the army, Simon was finally notified that they had found a match. He just didn't expect to find out that he would be donating it to his own son, who he had with his teenage love and never knew.

Warnings: Family problems, panic attacks, teenage pregnancy, swearing, mention of diseases such as leukemia, murder, archaic ideas, anguish.

Word count: 3.5 k

Any questions or errors, please let me know.

Simon always remembers how the army encouraged soldiers to be blood donors. There was a great concern within about it, as it was one of the ways the government found to help hospitals and people who depend on transfusions to survive.

Then campaigns for bone marrow donation began, but it was so rare to find someone compatible that after 6 years on the waiting list, Simon thought he would never find someone who would need him. But that changed two months ago when he received a call from the institute informing him that he should go there immediately.

He underwent more medical exams than he had ever done, and although he was a tough guy, he couldn't deny the pain he felt in the weeks following the procedure. Among so many people dying in beds waiting to find a donor, someone could finally heal because of him. It made Simon feel good about himself, as good as he hadn't felt in a long time. That had been one of the reasons why he joined the army: to help people.

Now he could only hope that whoever he donated to would improve. He found himself during the day thinking about it, wondering if in a few years it would affect him as much as it does now. It's not very fresh in his memory, but Simon is able to superficially remember the day he registered on the bone marrow donor list. He had been in the army for a short time, still a soldier, and "Ghost" didn't even exist yet.

He thought this would be put aside. He didn't understand if he would need to donate more often, not really knowing the process deeply. That's why when he received another call from the same institute, he thought there had been some mistake, or that they would need more, but the reason for the contact surprised him.

The recipient's caregiver wanted to meet him and was willing to break the standard anonymity by revealing their identity. Accepting the offer would mean that he would also need to disclose his personal information, which is why he hesitated so much. But as he constantly replayed the woman's words in his head, he grew restless.

"The caregiver wants to meet you," that's what she said. Could the recipient be a child? Or perhaps an elderly person? Or maybe someone who was already so ill that they could barely decide for themselves. He shouldn't have any information about this person, even something as empty as what that lady had let slip.

"You should accept. Everyone would like to have the opportunity to personally thank the person who saved their life," were the words of his Captain, John "Price." And it had been the push that Simon needed to agree to the idea.

Now, standing in front of the hospital room door, Ghost debated with himself whether he should open it. Just a few meters away was the little boy who had been haunting his mind for the past few days. And how did he know it was a boy? He had been directed to the children's oncology ward when he arrived at the reception minutes ago, as soon as he was cleared by the unit director, who already knew about the situation and the breach of anonymity.

Furthermore, the clipboard with the patient's information on the door also made it clear that it was a boy. The name "Lucas" was printed on the paper, accompanied by a surname that was familiar to him. There weren't many people in the UK with that name, which caught his attention.

All that separated him from the family was that door, dividing the cold hospital corridor from the room he could only hope would be less disheartening and empty. He didn't know if he would find a smile on the other side, or if he would be met with the sad gaze of the child's mother.

This woman had contacted him through a letter. On that day, he hadn't yet notified the institute that he was willing to speak with her, so the letter came anonymously since nothing had been filed. He read what she had to say, revealing some things, such as the fact that she was a single mother and was extremely grateful to God for sending him to save her son. Some paragraphs were difficult to read, where she recounted how she had lost hope before.

The little comfort he found in that text was when she talked about the boy. In those passages, her handwriting was less shaky, and he was sure she was happier when she wrote those parts of the letter. He knew that this had been her attempt to persuade him to come meet her, but without her knowing, he had already decided. Simon kept the piece of paper with him and reread it in his spare moments.

That stirred his emotions. He thought he had managed to harden his heart after everything he had been through, but he was wrong. Deep down in his soul, he was more emotional than he let on to others. He hoped that "Soap" would never find out, or he would be eternally tormented.

"Damn," he muttered softly, snapping back to reality. Simon began to bitterly regret agreeing to this. He should have declined and moved on. He could leave, but he was already here, so he mustered up the courage to knock on the wood.

He considered himself presentable in the civilian clothes he wore, accustomed to the heavy military equipment he carried all day at the base, and also missing the mask covering his face. Simon adjusted the collar of his dress shirt, as a way to occupy his sweaty hands, more nervous about the approaching footsteps he heard than his appearance.

Before the door opened, he had already told himself he would remain silent and wait for the boy's mother to start the conversation. If she asked who he was, he would state his name and explain why was there. But as the woman inside was revealed to him, he fell silent not because he had decided to, but because he was speechless. Suddenly, those seconds he spent admiring the child's surname on the door seemed like a scene from a comedy movie to him. How ironic it is considering he was just thinking about you moments ago and, like magic, you appeared?

It seemed like you took a few extra seconds to recognize him, and he doesn't judge you for that. Although you have changed and are now an adult woman, with a more mature face and body, he had changed much more since he was a teenager. Back when you two were in school, he was shorter and thinner, and he didn't have any of the scars on his face.

But it wasn't just that which changed in him. You stared in complete shock at how different the demeanor of the guy you were in love with was. He was more serious, more intimidating, very different from his brother, Thomas, whom you had seen years ago, just a few days before he was brutally murdered along with his wife and child.

Your legs went weak, and your eyes burned with tears threatening to overflow. You wanted so desperately to say something, but nothing could come out of your mouth. Was this real, after all? You withdrew your hand from the doorknob, not realizing you had been gripping it tightly until now, and sat in the nearest chair to avoid collapsing to the ground.

Your blood pressure had surely dropped, as you were sweating cold and seeing black spots. What were the chances, after so many years and after everything you had been through, of finally finding him just when you weren't even trying anymore?

Your memories since you found out you were pregnant began to flood back. You vividly remember your father's reaction when he found out you were having a baby; what he said when found out that the neighbor's son, Simon, was the father of the child; how you struggled to escape him after he took you away to another state, to cover up the shame of having a "prostitute" as a daughter.

You never managed to tell Simon, and when you returned to that town, the town where you two met, he was no longer there. You didn't have a penny in your pocket and only survived that week because of Tommy's help. He gave you a bed to sleep in, food, and clothes, both for you and his nephew. You remembered the perplexed expression he had when analyzed Lucas's appearance, it was impossible to deny that he was a Riley.

It was because of him that you found out Simon was in the army and that he hadn't come home in months.

You never managed to thank him properly. Just two days after showing up there, Tommy handed you half of the money he had in a bank deposit. He told you that a good part of that money belonged to Simon, and therefore, it belonged to your son too. You rented a hotel room so as not to continue bothering his wife, especially since she now had to cook and clean for five people.

You left for the hotel with the promise to reward him someday and continued making visits while anxiously tried to contact his brother on his phone, but Simon never answered. You didn't have a cell phone and couldn't spend the money Tommy gave you so lightly, deciding to prioritize your son's needs.

Several voicemails were recorded, but there was never a response. You felt angry at Simon. You screamed into your pillow, frustrated for not being answered and repeating to yourself how stupid he was. But the possibility that maybe he was dead haunted you. Tommy had told you how complex his work in the army was, that it was more dangerous than usual.

You always feared what you would find when you saw him again. He could have a wife, a beautiful house, and everything you ever wanted to have with him one day but couldn't. He could have children, children who had the opportunity to grow up with him, unlike Lucas. And then when you found out that no, none of that had happened, a kind of happiness flooded your chest, even though nothing in the world guaranteed that he would want anything with you again. The last time you had anything, you two were barely adults, until one day you left without saying anything. You thought he hated you.

That lasted until one time, when you went to Tommy's house, there was nothing there but blood. You still remember how scared you were when you found the broken door and called the police, who surrounded the scene of the violent crime that had just happened. You waited so long, but so long for Simon to show up. What kind of person doesn't attend their own brother's funeral? That's when you decided to forget him and threw away the phone number you had written down.

Some more time later, when Lucas had just turned 7 years old, your life was turning upside down again. It all started with symptoms of a common virus. He had fevers, weakness, and got tired very easily. Then he started losing weight and getting pale. Many pediatricians said it could be anemia or hepatitis, but more symptoms kept emerging. Joint pains came, as did swellings, and after a year of medical investigation, the diagnosis came: leukemia.

You entered a state of denial. Was there something wrong with his diet? Or his lifestyle? It could be genetic, but there were no cases of cancer in your family. Maybe the Rileys had some?

Since that day, your life has never been the same. With each passing month, your son only got worse. You would give all your savings, live on the streets, or even rob a bank if it meant seeing your baby well again. Fortunately, the government offered treatment for free, but some medicines needed to be acquired more urgently than the hospital could provide, and medicines for such treatment were not cheap at all.

The only thing that could cure your boy was the marrow from a compatible donor. You prayed so much that you could save him, but when the tests were done, it was impossible. If no one in the family could donate, it was almost a death sentence. Your last hope was your father. You hoped to never have to see him again, let alone tell him where you had run away to, but now you were no longer the same foolish young girl who depended on his money.

Despite everything, you knew he loved his grandson, and a single phone call was enough to make him come running. In recent years, he had been worried about the two of you, not knowing where you had gone. He never had the courage to admit he was wrong, and apologizing was never his strong point, but he regrets every day what he did. That day he didn't know how to react. He wanted to kill Simon, the brat who got his only daughter pregnant, just as he was afraid you would become a joke in neighborhood for having such a young son. He only managed to think about leaving to avoid a disaster, never asking what you wanted or how you felt.

For the first time, when he saw you so tired and alone, he held his tongue to not say anything that could ruin everything. Instead, he hugged you tightly, and you were so craving someone's company that you curled up in his arms just like when you were a little girl. He was a grumpy and archaic man, someone who made many mistakes, who still makes them, but he still has humanity within him.

Unfortunately, he was not a match either.

You stopped daydreaming, and you didn't realize how bad you were until you saw an adult Simon crouched in front of you, shouting in the hallway for a doctor, but you tried to silence him by grabbing the nails on his rolled-up shirt sleeve, catching his attention. The last thing you want is for the doctors responsible for your son's health to be alarmed, thinking he's worsened. These professionals worked as hard for him as you did. Simon seemed to understand and went to close the door to prevent curious eyes from appearing.

Simon looked at you with sadness, and it crushed your heart. He was afraid you wouldn't be able to breathe properly again; he knew you were desperately begging for air, but couldn't draw it in. He hesitated to touch you, but gave in to the desire and placed both hands on your cheeks. He was incredulous. It was really you, the girl he loved most in his entire life, more than he thought he was capable of loving another woman. Simon had imagined so many times meeting you again, and he had so many doubts.

"Calm down," he repeated in a whisper, locking his eyes onto yours. He knew panic attacks; he had experienced them himself several times. "I know. I know, dear. It's a lot to process."

"You…" your voice tried to come out amidst desperate breaths, while also trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands grabbed both of his wrists, and your thumb smoothed over the skin, feeling his heartbeat. "It's you who…?"

"Yes. Yes, it's me, the donor," he quickly confirmed, even before you could finish the question. "Don't speak. Breathe."

You were managing to calm down and think more rationally. Understanding hit you like a bucket of cold water, and your embrace made the big burly man he had become freeze. The feeling was so strange. Of course, among so many people, the only one who could save your little son would be his own father. The person with whom he shared half of his genes.

"He's yours, Si," your voice sounded like a spell in his ear, the old nickname sending shivers down his spine. Your tone was so gentle that he barely understood the meaning of the phrase. But soon he felt his lips quivering, recounting the events of the past few months and how unbelievable this would sound if he told this story to someone. "I swear he's yours," you repeated as if that made it easier to assimilate.

The content of that letter invaded his mind again and again. He felt horrible.

Simon pulled you closer to him, your bodies almost merging. You were still beautiful, even in your disheveled state, betraying exhaustion. And even after so much time, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of you. He knew there was a small body behind him, sleeping peacefully in the bed, but he didn't dare to look. He could hear the sound of the machines, and then it all came crashing down on his shoulders at once: he had a son with you. By his calculations, the boy should be 9 years old. Wow! He hadn't seen you in over a decade.

"I have so many questions," he confessed with a choked voice, and you don't remember ever seeing him cry before when you were younger.

"I searched for you so much. I called so many times," the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty, but hearing that, he felt like he should have kept searching for you too. As soon as you left, he went asking where your father had gone. He worried and tried to find out something, until enlisted in the army, and then all he did from then on was just think about you; never seeking; never trying in any way to find you again because it seemed easier to accept that you had left forever.

You tried to distance yourself, even though you hated it, to look at his face one more time. Simon allowed you to run your fingers over his features until your eyes landed on your son behind him. He knew where your gaze had gone, but he didn't follow it. And of course, you would understand what was happening.

"Look at him," you pleaded with tenderness, but he shook his head while rubbing his eyes, as if they hurt. "You're hurting me doing this, Simon."

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was rejecting the boy, so he stood up, fighting the weakness in his legs and slowly approaching the bed. The child's face was turned exactly in his direction, as if anticipating he would be there, but his eyes were closed, and his breathing was peaceful. It was only then that Simon realized how he was hyperventilating until he felt your hand gently pushing him closer.

His heart hammered in his chest, overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, as he watched his pale and still son. Each step was a journey through an ocean of uncertainty, each breath an effort to maintain composure in the face of the storm raging within him.

As he leaned over the fragile and inert body of the boy, a wave of emotions engulfed him. His broken heart cried out to stop the affliction that plagued his son, that beloved being he barely knew.

Tears blurred his vision as he stroked Lucas's hand, so small and vulnerable compared to his, so similar to yours. Each touch was a silent promise to stand by him in every moment, even in the darkest and most painful.

He found himself whispering words of comfort, as if each sentence could ignite a spark of life in his son's dormant soul. He pleaded to the heavens, to the stars, to any higher power that could hear, for a miracle, for a chance to see those childish eyes shine for the first time in his life. He was an identical copy of Simon at that age, and it made him wonder if the color of their irises was also the same, the same shade of brown. A sudden curiosity arose: what was his voice like? Would it sound like yours, so gentle and reassuring, or could it somehow sound like his?

There, in that moment, time seemed to freeze, the whole world disappearing. It was as if he were dreaming. There was no way all of this could be true, someone must be playing a prank on him. He wanted to look at your face again, to smell you while he ran his hands through your hair to make sure it was really you, flesh and blood. "He's going to be okay," he poured out the words, even though he knew the danger in promising that, and you dove into them, knowing you didn't have to face everything alone anymore.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod modern warfare #call of duty #imagine #x reader #simon ghost riley #mom reader #mother reader #task force 141 #angst #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod mw2

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longing-for-the-past-times · 9 months

Text

finding out it's your birthday

task force 141 x reader

synopsis: It's your birthday, but you don't know how to tell your teammates about it

notes: don't really know how to properly describe this, but it's based on this request and my personal experience of having to spend my birthday at work (no, I did not bring them baked goods, just sweets from the shop). Really short, not proofread, no plot.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: none

find it on ao3 masterlist

"and now I am dreaming and you're singing at my birthday// and I've never seen you smile so big" - moon song

There were a lot of potential ways you could have spent your birthday, but running through the narrow hallways of the base with a heavy backpack slung over a shoulder definitely hadn't been one of them

You almost crashed into other three operators, including König from KorTac who had the common sense to place his heavy hands on your shoulders in an attempt to steady you before you ran him over in your rush to get to the meeting room

Laswell had advanced the hour the post-mission debriefing was supposed to take place and it ended up clashing with your own schedule, the one day you decided to organise your actions into one and now you were late by almost 5 minutes. Which wouldn't seem like much to some, but being a member of Task Force 141 meant you needed to uphold a certain standard.

But it was your birthday and even if you were 99% sure no one was actually aware of it, you'd spent the morning baking oat cookies and muffins, and carefully packing them into casseroles. You also tried to bring them to the destination with minimal damage, but now you could only hope there was something edible left of the baked goods.

"I'm sorry I'm late!", you meekly excused yourself, taking a seat between Ghost and Soap and blushing slightly when feeling Price's judging glare.

"Anyway, as I was saying when you tried to infiltrate through this crack in the perimeter…"

Slightly tapping your left foot against the floor, you couldn't focus on Laswell's words. What if they didn't like the cookies - you were never able to make them both soft and chewy - or what if the muffins stuck to the muffin liners? Did you put too many chocolate chips in them?

"Y/N? What's your take on this?"

You looked at Price with an alarmed expression, panic bubbling up in your chest upon seeing the questioning looks of the others. You didn't catch the last part of the question - were they asking about your birthday? Laswell must have known, she was the one responsible for all the intelligence after all.

So you did what seemed the most logical thing to do. You opened the backpack and placed the plastic casseroles on the table, unaware that everyone else in the room was literally frozen in place.

"So yeah, it's my birthday today and I made some cookies and muffins and thought it would be nice to share them with you and… that's not what you were talking about, is it?"

Your words trailed as you realised that the timing wasn't as ideal as you planned. At least, now you were sure they hadn't known: Price's eyes were widened comically, and Gaz was repeatedly blinking at you in confusion and disbelief. Soap let out a thunderous laugh as he instantly pulled you into a bear hug and Ghost… you couldn't tell his expression under the mask, but the blank look in his eyes meant he was probably still wrapping his head around it

"How about we forget any of this happened and I do it again after the debrief is over?" A blush spread on your cheeks as you tried to put the casseroles back into the backpack, but you were stopped by Gaz's firm grip.

"Are you kidding? It's your birthday, we should celebrate - go out for drinks and do karaoke and-"

Price and Kate shared a knowing look between themselves and shook their heads in defeat. Before being able to ask them what was the matter, Kate closed the laptop and began to stuff the files back into the manilla folders

"Happy birthday, Y/N! We will resume this tomorrow. And now tell me, what kind of oats did you use for the cookies, plain or instant? My wife's been trying to make them this chewy, but she never seems to get the recipe right."

It was your turn to open your mouth in disbelief when you saw Price joining Kate at the table, securing a casserole of oat cookies just for themselves

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?", he asked in a gentle tone, fishing breadcrumbs from his moustache.

"I… It's not that important, I mean…"

You couldn't help but flinch when someone placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly, as if in reassurance. You turned your look to Ghost, who was holding a pink muffin in his gloved hand. His mask was lifted up to his nose, revealing his tight-lipped smile:

"Don't ever say that again, ok? That is all the more reason to celebrate it. You were the one who got us out safe from the bunker after all…"

And you could swear you saw his lips twitching into a smile, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes as he bit into the cupcake

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