#cod ghost fluff

[sunonyoreface]

One Cot - Simon “Ghost” Riley

Hi there, this story is a one shot about Simon Riley. I haven’t played COD before and I don’t know much about his character, but I love the thought of tough men being soft.

Summary: You help Ghost on a cold night and he returns the favour.

Word count: 2398

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: none, fluff.

Crews like task force 141 aren’t the type to pack extra cots. They don’t need them. Because crews like 141 don’t make a habit of bringing home extra bodies. There’s only ever one scenario when they have extra cots. Luckily for them, tonight’s not one of those nights.

For me, however, that means another night on the floor with my ankle cuffed to the bottom of one of their cots in case I try to run.

 Although I’m deemed non-violent, I’m also a flight risk. According to them at least.

 According to me, I have no clue where we are or how I’d even survive away from them. I’ve got no money, no ID, no map or compass, or even the slightest clue how I’d escape. Regardless, the cuffs stay on.

 My wrists face the same fate. But my hands are free enough to rake them through my damp hair, working them through the tangles. It’s a soothing feeling of normalcy in this strange place.

 In his cot on the other side of the room, Soap waits for one of the other boys to return from the showers and trade off babysitting duty.

 One thing I can say is that chivalry is not dead, because they allowed me to shower first. Not that it matters all that much. There’s no hot water anyway so there isn’t much of a benefit in going first. But it’s the thought that counts.

 Ghost is the first one back. It’s strange not seeing him wear layers upon layers of tactical gear. Instead, he only wears dark jeans and a black henley. And the balaclava too. I’ve yet to see him take it off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showered with it on. I don’t know that the other guys have seen him take it off either. They make comments sometimes, little jabs and jokes about how it never comes off. Ghost hardly notices though. Or maybe I should say hardly reacts. He’s stoic through it all, preventing any emotions from breaking through.

 Soap leaves without a word. They understand their positions. So well, that half the time I think they’re communicating through their thoughts.

 Ghost places a duffel bag on the cot I’m cuffed to. I sit cross-legged on a blanket on the floor as he ruffles through it.

 His strong form towers over me two feet away. Ghost doesn’t make eye contact as I watch him search through the bag. He’s less threatening without the bulky gear and a gun in his hand. But that mask is still terrifying enough to find its way into your dreams.

 However, it's not the mask that sets me on edge around Ghost, it’s his eyes. They’re cold and unwavering, giving away nothing. They’re the eyes of a killer. Of someone who enjoys inflicting pain. Of someone whose been in so much pain himself, his only release is passing it on to others.

 He hasn’t bothered me that much since my first day with them all. Back when he was ready to put me down like a lame horse. I was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Still am, if I’m being honest. Price stopped him, but if it was up to Ghost, I’d have been dead for days now. Even now, I’m sure part of him wants to kill me knowing it’s the more logical option. But until then, he’s under orders to keep me alive.

 “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a staring problem?” His rough voice breaks the silence. He rarely acknowledges me so for him to speak up must mean I’ve struck a nerve. My mouth suddenly feels dry.

 “Just you,” I say. “Sorry.”

 But I don’t look away. I continue to watch him search through the bag. I don’t know what he’s looking for but he can’t seem to find it. The tight sleeves of the Henley hug his strong arms. Even through the fabric, I can see the defined lines of his muscles. His posture is nearly perfect and his movements could almost be considered robotic.

 “What’re you looking for?” He doesn’t seem like the type of person to misplace his things.

 “Nothing,” he responds bluntly.

 “Maybe it fell behind the cot. I can check for you?” I offer.

 “Negative.”

 “Are you sure beca-“

 “Stop talking, y/n,” he snaps. I flinch at his response. As he says this he finally makes eye contact with me and I regret ever looking at him. There’s an anger in his eyes that no man I’ve ever met has been able to match. A deep-rooted hatred for the world and all of its inhabitants. It’s not a look that you’re born with. It’s one that’s carved from years of pain and betrayal. He’s witnessed the type of things that would break most people. The intensity of his gaze is too much. I break eye contact to stare at the floor.

 Fine. I won’t try to help.

 I lean against the cement wall and try to think about anything else. I press my hands to the inside of my thighs in an attempt to warm them up.

 When they found me I was only in ripped shorts and a ratty tank top with nothing else to my name.

 Since then some of the men spared me a set of long johns, a long sleeve shirt, and a pair of thick socks. I’m not allowed shoes in case I try and take off. It’s better than what I had but the warehouse is cold and the cement floor seems to suck out any heat my body produces.

 Ghost angrily zips up the duffel bag and tosses it on the floor at the other end of the cot. I watch the bag skid for a foot before finally coming to a stop.

 He climbs onto the cot with a dissatisfied grunt. Ghost sleeps with his head on the far side of the cot and his feet at the end I’m cuffed to. He doesn’t take his shoes off. None of them do. In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t sleeping with more gear on. Some days they’ll all sleep in their tactical gear as if they’re waiting to be attacked. Part of me is relieved they don’t feel as though that’s a threat tonight.

 I can hear voices echo down the halls. Some of the others must be done in the showers.

 I lie down on my makeshift bed: a pillow and a blanket that I fold in half to act as a mattress and duvet.

 When I lie down, however, something shiny catches my eye under Ghost’s cot.

 It’s a tiny chain. A necklace.

 On my hands and knees, I crawl under his cot to grab the necklace.

 “What’re you doing?” Ghost mumbles above me. I hear him shift his weight against the rough canvas fabric.

 When I back out from under the cot, he’s sitting with his legs off the edge. Suspiciously eyeing my movements. His right hand is in one of his pant pockets probably wrapped around a knife in case I try something.

 I kneel in front of the bed beside his legs. My damp hair clings to my neck and the tip of my nose is red and cold.

 I raise the chain up to Ghost. His eyes latch on immediately.

 “Is this it?” I ask. He eyes me suspiciously. I see him searching for any signs of deceit. Maybe I lied to him and hid the chain from him. Maybe I pickpocketed him before he went to shower. But I didn’t do any of those things. I hold his eye contact this time. His brows soften ever so slightly. It seems to be enough.

 Ghost doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply grabs the chain from my hand. His fingers brush against my palm as he scoops it up. He examines it a moment before slipping it over his neck and tucking it under his shirt.

 I don’t know why but I was hoping for a thank you. Or at least an acknowledgment that I’d helped. But Ghost remains silent. At the same time, the voices reach the room. Roach and Gaz round the corner from the hallway.

 At their entrance, I turn back to my makeshift bed and pretend to sleep. It’s not that I don’t like them - although I don’t, in fact, I don’t like any of them - but I don’t have the energy for more questions from them tonight.

 I hear Ghost shift in his cot and it seems our thoughts are on the same track.

 As hard as I try, sleep doesn’t come. They shut off the main lights over an hour ago, yet I still haven’t calmed down enough to drift off. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop shivering from the cold.

 The warehouse remains utterly silent except for the light snores and breathing of the men. Only the emergency lights fill the corners of the room with dim, orange light. They’re almost comforting in a way.

 I pull the single blanket tighter around my shoulders and ball up even smaller if that’s possible, but nothing helps. My bones shake and my teeth rattle. If only I had another blanket.

 The cot next to me creaks as Ghost shifts in his sleep. It creaks some more and then I notice he’s sitting up.

 Ghost spares a glance in my direction as he rummages through his pocket for something.

 Something silver glints in the light and I realize it’s a key. He wordlessly tosses it in my direction and by some stroke of luck, I catch it mid-air.

 It’s the key to the cuffs. I spare an uneasy glance in his direction. He wants me to uncuff myself?

 Ghost doesn’t react. Instead, he watches as I process my thoughts, as I push through my weariness and unlock my ankles first before freeing my wrists.

 I reach to pass the key back to him but instead of grabbing the key, his large hand wraps completely around my wrist and tugs me in close.

 I’m face to face with him as his other hand wraps around my jaw so I can’t pull away.

 “If you try to run, I’ll kill you,” his low voice is barely above a whisper. The edge to his tone makes the threat feel all the more real.

 “Okay,” I nod in response. My heart is racing and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

 “Come here. Bring your blanket,” he motions to the cot. I spare a glance at the narrow bed. Surely he doesn’t want to share it with me? There’s barely enough room for one person let alone two.

 “I don’t know,” I whisper back as though it’s an option. I don’t know where he’s going with this suggestion and I don’t think I trust him.

 “That’s an order, y/n,” his response does nothing to ease my soul, but I grab my blanket anyway and crawl onto the cot.

 It’s now he notices my hesitancy. How I purposely leave space between us on the bed. That I’m unsure of why he wants me up here. The fogginess of his intentions.

 “I can't sleep with the sound of your teeth rattling in my ears all night,” nothing changes in my expression so he tries again, his tone softer this time. “You’re safe, y/n. I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 I sigh in relief but don’t say anything in response. He knows.

 “C’mere,” he lifts the blanket for me to slide in. The warmth immediately welcomes me into the space.

 The cot is more narrow than a twin mattress and leaves little to no wiggle room for two people. I’m pressed tightly into Ghost's chest as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer and preventing me from falling off.

 I thought I’d be tense but the heat under the blankets completely relaxes me. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. His balaclava is soft against my cheek. I hear his breathing pick start to pick up. I can feel his chest expand deeper than before.

 “Thank you,” my voice is barely audible, but I know he heard.

 As I adjust to our proximity, I breathe in the scents that linger on his skin and in his clothes. I can smell the same standard citrusy shampoo on him as myself and the rest of the crew use. But there’s also a remainder of smoke and gunpowder from the day’s work. There’s something else more unique to him and yet I can’t put my finger on it. I take a deep breath and allow myself to revel in the calming smells. This shouldn’t be comforting and yet it is.

 Nothing about this situation should be comforting and yet I feel safer than I have in weeks.

 Wrapped in Ghost's arms, I know nothing else in the world can get to me. My only danger is the man who holds me. Yet I know in this instance after he’s sacrificed his space and his bed for me, that I’ve got nothing to worry about.

 Ghost shifts against the canvas again. This time pulling me on top of him as he spreads out across his cot. He wraps his arms around my back he readjusts for the final time. I feel so small on top of him. Ghost spreads a hand out across my lower back and it feels as though it takes up the entire width of the space. His thumb soothingly brushes back and forth along the arch of my spine.

 I lay my head on his chest and listen to the thrum of his heart. It beats strong and steady like a bass drum. I feel myself relaxing even more as my breathing starts to match his. I feel myself start to drift as my head lulls with his chest when it rises and falls.

 For the first time in a long time, I don’t worry about what tomorrow brings. I’m so content in his arms that I don’t think about what’s next. All that fills my mind is the strength of his heartbeat and the distant scent of gunpowder. The last thing I think about before finally nodding off is the feeling of his thumb brushing up and down along my back, letting me know everything is going to be alright.

Edit+A/N: I have never received this much attention on a story before so thank you!! When I have time should I write more for Ghost?

Fic based on this concept:

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[ghostlychief]

tattooed heart

the one where you ask Ghost about his tattoos

---

You’re lying in bed with your head on Ghost’s chest, able to feel the rise and fall of his breathing as you examine his tattooed arm. Your hands hold up his (surprisingly) heavy arm in order to study the designs more effectively. You’ve been asking him the story behind each tattoo for the past half hour, intrigued by what inspired them. And Ghost has answered you thus far, quelling your wonder in the history behind his now full sleeve. Some have more in-depth stories than others, or are more meaningful to him, but he never fails to answer you earnestly, always giving you a good story behind each one.

You can’t exactly explain what prompted you to sit down (rather lay down) with Ghost to get the details and pick his brain about his sleeve. Maybe you secretly just wanted to run your hand up and down his arm, tracing his tattoos while also being able to feel his solid muscles underneath them, and so therefore you needed an excuse. Maybe you just wanted to feel closer to him somehow, anyway you could, and this is what you came up with that night. Whatever the true reason, you will always look back at this memory fondly, as you spend the night together, learning more about each other.

“Mm what about this one?” You’re pointing at the American traditional skull and snake tattoo on his upper bicep. Ghost chuckles lightly at your pondering, finding it cute that you were so invested in the story behind each and every one of the tattoos on his arm.

“What’s the story behind it?” you ask again. Your fingertip runs gently over the design, tracing the pattern, the action making goosebumps arise on Ghost’s skin. Your soft eyes glance up at him, catching his gaze as well which makes him smile at you. His other arm, that’s not being investigated at the moment, tightens it hold around your shoulders and he lets out a nostalgic sigh before answering you.

“Well to be honest, it was as cover up for another tattoo I got many years ago.”

You let out a hum of understanding before asking, “What was the other tattoo? How bad could it have been for you to get it covered up?”

You and your questions.

Letting out another sigh and with regret coating his voice, he finally answers you. “I lost a dare with my friends and had to get the cliche, heart with ‘mom’ written in it. And obviously that doesn’t really fit the vibe of what I was going for, for my sleeve, so I eventually just got it covered up.” He nonchalantly shrugs after finishing his explanation, subsequently making you shift on his chest.

You prop yourself up a little so you can see him better. “Aww is Simon a mama’s boy?” You have a knowing smile on your lips as you look up at him, and see his eyes roll to heaven and back at your teasing.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re done asking me about my tattoos.” He pulls his arm out of your grasp, although not too roughly, and gently pushes you back onto the bed and rolls on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head propping him up and caging you under him.

“Are you done?” he asks while lowering himself slightly so he can nudge your nose with his, your lips just a hair’s breadth apart.

You close your eyes at his gesture, already forgetting about your questions, your thoughts quickly consumed by Simon being on top of you, being this close to you. You nudge his nose back and hum, “I think I could be, if you can take my mind off of things.”

You open your eyes then and see Simon smirking down at you. “Say no more.”

---

#Simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley fluff #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #cod ghost imagine #cod ghost fanfiction #cod ghost fluff

[saturncodedstarlette]

Y/N, inhales :

Y/N, exhales :

Y/N : Alright, we’re going to improve our relationship in this team by telling each other——

Ghost, has no filter whatsoever : I would kill for you.

#Cod #Call of duty #Call of duty incorrect quotes #Call of duty x reader #Cod Ghost #Simon Ghost Riley #Simon Riley #Cod Ghost x male reader #Cod Ghost x fem reader #Cod Ghost x gn reader #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Riley x oc #Original : Some-textposts #original : tumblr #Cod Ghost fluff #🌻relaunch old incorrect quotes🌻 #This can be seen as the part 2 of the last one 😂🫶 #Kaomoji : skz-garden

[haruchuiyo]

Captivating

You and Lieutenant Ghost dance around each other with your feelings for the other.

content: sfw, depiction of violence, mending injuries, in love!simon, lots of fluff, bare chested and back simon, he is absolutely downright in love with you (he doesn’t know it), you fall first he falls harder!trope

ghost x fem!medic reader

fyi, I’m not a medic so some stuff written in this could be incorrect ;(

—

He was captivating just the way he carried himself.

The first day you saw him walking inside the room, it’s like your eyes zeroed in on him. He was quiet, gave a subtle slight nod as a greeting to everyone in the room. His eyes flickering over everyone and when his eyes landed on you and your eyes met his, you couldn’t look away.

And he held that eye contact for what felt like ages, but was in fact just a few seconds before he looked away to pay attention to what Captain Price was debriefing about. You looked at him for a few more seconds before looking away.

During the entire mission, when you had your brief freetime, your mind went to him. And when he was anywhere in your presence, your eyes found him as if it’s a reflex.

One time you got caught and you startled in surprise, you couldn’t see his expression cause of his mask but you do hope he wasn’t laughing at you behind it for being caught. Much did you know, he didn’t pay it too much mind.

Until you approached him for the first time and blurted out the first thing you could think of.

“I know how to make explosives.” What a great first greeting. And for goodness sake, you’re a medic, how do you know how to create explosives? You wanted to uppercut yourself after saying that and after seeing his reaction. The behemoth of a man in front of you was stunned in surprise. How do you know that, his eyes slightly widened in surprise. You feel your entire body heat up.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you that but I do wanna say that you need to come in for an examination.” You ramble on. “You know, for blood tests, and all the important stuff.” All the important stuff? You can’t embarrass yourself even more? “Alright, see you. And the examination has to be done this week.” You say before walking away. Then you stop before turning around and he is still standing there, much to your surprise. So you give an awkward small wave before walking away in a haste.

Ghost was speechless. As a man of few words unless necessary, he was a man of even more few words after his interaction with you. Which left an impression on him. Just a little bit. Oh how he proved himself wrong just the day and days after.

Each time, he finds himself looking at you. And he sees you look back, your eyes widen in surprise and your lips part as if you’re lost of words. During examinations, even if you don’t show it much, he feels your hands slightly shake when checking his pulse. And he sees you not holding eye contact with him for more than three seconds. And he finds it so amusing yet so endearing. He has barely uttered more than ten words to you and he already has you in shambles.

During a debrief, he hears Price talk about you coming with them during one of their missions and Simon has to physically hold himself back from walking away from the meeting, and ask you ‘why’. A medic on the field means you gotta have combat training. Do you have it? How long have you been training? Were you a soldier before being a medic? How long have been you a medic? And he finds himself asking questions that make him get to know you. On a personal level. And he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I used to be a soldier.” You tell Ghost one day during one of weekly examinations you have with the 141 team. Ghost looks up at you, away from your hands on his bicep where you wrapped a blood pressure monitor around his bicep. And when you don’t hear a reply as usual, which you don’t mind, you turn away to check on your screen to see his other results when you hear him speak up.

“How long?” His question is so simple but it has your heart pounding so fast against your chest. His voice is so deep and has a hint of gentleness in it. He is trying his best to ask his question as gently as possible. Your heart flutters at his obvious intention.

“Five years, almost six.” You reply with a smile on your lips and you swear you heard his breath hitch before the familiar sound of the monitor beeps and you get his pulse results. It’s increased.

“Your pulse has increased since last time and your blood sugar, which you can see here,” you point at the screen thinking Ghost would look as well, when he in fact was looking at you instead while you explain his results to him.

“So make sure to do it, alright?” You tell him what he should do to maintain his pulse, blood sugar and pressure before turning to look at the screen again. He wanted so badly for you to look at him rather than the screen, he wanted to grab your chin and turn it so you look at him and him only. Not his pulse, blood pressure or anything else. I’m pathetic. Ghost wants to uppercut himself. Johnny would have a fun field day if he heard what he is thinking right now, and he shudders internally at the amount of teasing Johnny would have if he knew.

After your first field mission as a medic not as a soldier, you finally got back to the base. Not unscratched though, you have a cut from when a bullet grazed your arm which you knew wouldn’t give a long lasting impact.

A bullet just grazed your left arm when you felt pain on your entire left arm just a few seconds after. You heard Ghost yell orders at someone in the radio before you see him running towards you, kneeling in front of you before grabbing you to the side for safety and to avoid more wounds. He places you against a metal board and you hear him frantically tell you to stay awake.

“Stay awake for me, love? Alright?” Why is he saying that? That’s when you hear ringing in your ears and your visions getting blurry before you feel Ghost patting your cheeks rather harshly, which wakes you up for some reason.

“Good girl, your pupils are clear and now eyes open, copy?” He orders and you nod. “Copy, sir.” He nods at you before speaking into the radio and you look down at your left arm and see a bullet hit you and you put pressure on the wound. The bullet are gonna feel like torture to take out. You think to yourself, sighing amongst the chaos. You see Ghost reach behind himself and you see his small box of first aid kit. You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“You’re the medic here now.” You giggle and Ghost gives you a look. How can you be giggling during a time like this? He wraps your wound in a haste and you hiss in pain when he grabs you up with your right arm.

“Johnny took down the rest, now let’s get to safety.” He tells you. “Yes, sir.” You manage to utter out. Your left arms hurt like a meteorite hit you.

Back at the base, you redid your wound and amidst the chaos on the field, you managed to take out the bullet and the fragments. Thankfully you only had your left arm shot, which is less of a damage than what Soap received on the sides of his stomach. And Ghost has knife wounds on his back and the rest of the team was left uninjured.

You managed to stitch him up after telling him take his shirt off despite your left arm, while Soap was on pain relievers Ghost was still as a statue as you stitched him up.

“All done.” You say before sighing because of the pain in your left arm. “You good, doc?” You hear Soap ask despite his own pain.

“Yeah don’t worry about me, let me know if the pain doesn’t subside.” You tell him as he nods and give you a thumbs up before he gives in to sleep. You look at Ghost who is now standing up beside you, shirt on. Which bummed you out a little bit.

“Be careful with the stitches, or I need to redo them.” You tell him with a smile on your face before leaving the room with him and Soap in it. Then you went back and walked into the room, Ghost was still there, feeling on his stitches through his shirt as he watched his comrade rest. His face turns to look at you when he hears you speak up.

“I’m gonna need to check on them again though, so I call on you when needed.” You say with a sheepish grin. “Thank you.” You hear him say and your heart flutters at that.

“It’s nothing, just doing my job.” You say softly. And you see his eyes soften and which has you wanting to melt to the floor.

Weeks after that day, you call Ghost back in to check on his stitches. He turned around and lifted up the back of his shirt but to no avail, it showed partially off his back. You see him look at you over his shoulders and your body feels hot. Alone in a room with a half naked man you can’t help but be captivated by, does things to you and when he takes his shirt off, you see the wounds on his back. Healed wounds and the stitches turned into fine scars.

“They’ve healed beautifully.” He hears you say from behind him. He’s never found his scars beautiful, just a reminder of what happened and his past. But if you think they’re beautiful, then so be it.

Ghost feels you graze your hands over his newly healed scars and he feels like a volcano erupted inside him. If she keeps touching me like that, I’m gonna walk out of this room without saying anything. Fortunately, you pulled back your hand which was also an unfortunate thing because Simon do want your touch on his skin. I feel so conflicted, I don’t know what to do around her. Should I talk? Should I just stare at her? Not talk? Her lips look so beautiful, I wanna taste them- and now I’m getting ahead of myself.

He still hasn't turned around to face you.

“How do you feel, by the way.” You ask him, wanting his input on his healed wounds. You see him do a slight shrug with his shoulders before you hear a simple “Good.” from him. It’s so him to be so straightforward, you can’t help but smile at that. He’s quite endearing.

“Alright, we are done here.” You tell him before noting down his results on his medical reports. As you look up, you see him stand up and he stretches his back, showing his muscles and you can’t help but stare until you see him turn around. Bare chest right in front of you and you look away after staring for a good three seconds. He really is a behemoth of a man.

He didn’t miss the look on your face at the sight of his chest and he can imagine the look when you saw his back. He felt your eyes on him. Everytime he’s in your presence, he is so conscious of you he doesn’t miss a thing.

“Am I dismissed, ma’am?” He hears himself say, feeling like teasing you. He sees you look up so fast like your neck would snap. You’re so endearing.

“Ma’am?” You blurt out before you wave him away, “Yes yes, you’re dismissed.” Simon just loves it when you trip on your words. You’re kind of cute. Kind of? Very cute. Yes, Johnny would definitely have a fun field day if he knew what I was saying.

—

i want to kiss this man.

If you’ve come this far, a reblog, feedbacks and likes would soo much much appreciated :3

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[kksverse]

Huddled

A/N: Hi! I am new to Tumblr and am not really sure how to set up the posts/requests/masterlists, but if you guys enjoy this and want more just comment or message me! Not sure if I like it or not so enjoy!

I also have it posted on AO3 here !

Summary:

 When a mission in rural Russia goes south, the team is forced to find shelter to hide from the brutal Russian winter. 

Or 

Getting sandwiched by 2 big men is no big deal until its König and Ghost

Pairing: Ghost/OFC/Köing

Word Count: 3268

Calina had always had a strong affinity to the moon and everything that surrounds it. She believed that it was because her mother named her after the moon. She would spend nights in the Russian wilderness, a place in which she called home, bathing in the moonlight until eventually her father would find her asleep outside at dusk, cursing her for forgetting her coat and coaxing her into the warmth of her home. 

Nights where the moon was at its fullest were Calina’s favorite. That's why when she woke up to her head pounding and her ears ringing, she felt nothing but peace. 

The light of the full moon cast down on her face as she took in her surroundings and for the first time since she gained consciousness, felt her body. 

Suddenly, she felt the coldness of the snow nipping at her back through her clothes. Pain radiating from every part of her body and her head felt too heavy to pick up from the snow. She felt like screaming, crying, and throwing up all at once. 

Because worst of all she remembered. Remembered everything. 

Her dad. The militia. The raid. The explosion. 

Anger and grief fueled her body as she rose from the ground. Fire burned all around her as the place that held her captive for the past two years burned to the ground along with her captors inside. 

For the first time in two years she was outside and had no idea where she was. She didn’t even know if she was still in Russia. 

Suddenly a twig snapped behind her, gasping as she turned around with her fists formed in some protective stance. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest as she took in the masked giant in front of her donned in military attire. She wasn’t entirely sure that her punch would even tickle the man but she continued to keep them in front of her. 

When König was first informed of the rescue mission in the middle of nowhere during the nastiest winter Russia has seen in 20 years he thought nothing of it. For a man of his size nothing seems to faze him. However, when the chopper dropped them off within the perimeter the intensity of the situation hit him. 

“‘Just another mission’ huh big guy?” Soap chitteered towards him as he noticed the change in König’s demeanor. 

Ghost huffed beside him, “You should never underestimate the cold. Would rather get hit with 10 bullets before my dick freezes off” 

“Wouldn’t want some Russian kid to mistake it for the nose of their snowman would you?” Soap bickered back laughing as Ghost rolled his eyes in response. 

“Focus up now, this is an extraction only mission. Remove the girl safely with minimal risk. That means not shooting for the sake of it. After the extraction has been confirmed, meet at the meet up spot and wait for the signal” Price stands at the entrance of the chopper signaling for his team to drop. 

The team stealthy drops from the chopper and once they reach the ground static from the comms fill their ears as Price gives them a farewell. 

The team rounded the perimeter as they approached the small cottage in the middle of the forest. König didn’t feel right about this extraction and he couldn’t shoulder the feeling as he gave Ghost coverage to the opening of the cottage.  

As they breached, König felt uneasy as he didn’t hear Soap come in on the comms confirming entry. Ghost turned back to look at him, giving him a confused look. A loud noise within the cottage made them inch their way inside. The walls were decorated with weapons of all kinds, ranging from international military warfare to underground black market weapons. 

Ghost and König suddenly heard Soap's voice yelling in the distance. Before they could even make their way to his side, someone ran right into Ghost's arms knocking him down as he was taken by surprise. König immediately had his weapon drawn at the intruder but quickly lowered it as he confirmed that it was the girl that they were supposed to extract. 

She fought against Ghost but as soon as she saw that he was not her kidnapper she quieted down enough for Ghost and König to quickly evacuate the cottage. Running out into the snow they heard gunshots fired from the windows and immediately threw themselves to the ground to shield themselves from the bullets. After it went quiet, König looked towards his teammate to make sure him or the girl were hit but he was surprised to only see Ghost beside him. Looking around he quickly spotted the girl running away from the cottage. 

Standing to go after her, he was immediately taken down again by a hot blast behind him. That's when he knew he was absolutely fucked. 

“не двигайся! кто ты?” Calina’s hot breath turned into frost as she confronted the man. 

“My name is König. I was a part of the mission designed to extract you” An accented voice replied. 

Calina felt goosebumps crawl up her arms as he spoke and she did everything to convince herself that it was the Russian winter and not the deepness of his voice. 

“How do I know if you’re telling the truth?” Calina’s arms are still raised in front of her in a protective stance weary of König. 

König said nothing but instead reached into his tactical vest pulling out a gold necklace. Calina's heart dropped as she recognized the necklace that her mother would always wear before she passed away. Her father always kept it on his person like it was the most important thing in the world. Dropping her hands to her side, König stepped forward and dropped the necklace into the palm of her hand. Calina tried not to let the memories of her father resurface to prevent embarrassing herself in front of some man she didn't even know. 

Suddenly, she felt hands around her waist as König pulled her behind him with his gun pointed into the darkness of the woods. Calina held in a breath as she tried to look around König's back to see what the threat was. If her kidnappers survived the explosion and were coming back for her. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of going back. 

"Friendly!" Another masked man appeared from the forest, he wasn't as big as König but he still towered over her. She could tell from the uniform and the way that König's body relaxed against her that König knew this man. 

"Ghost what the hell. I could've shot you" The man named Ghost stepped closer to them and she realized that he had on a different kind of baclava on than König. Where König's was a blank material Ghost had a skull painted on the front of it. 

"Have you made any communication?" Ghost questioned his teammate. 

"I tried the line but got no response. The comms must be down. The area is clear I haven't spotted anyone else, we would have to get to higher ground" Both König and Ghost glanced up the mountain beside them. Calina followed their gaze, growing up the mountains were forbidden during the winter. The fresh snow was harder and more dangerous to climb than compacted snow, making those who do climb the mountain idiotic in the face of the elders. Calina could hear her Babushka warn her about the dangers of the winters and honestly she didn't know what her Babushka would do in this situation but she knows what she would do. What she has to do. 

"We should go up that path" Calina poked out from behind König to gesture to the trail underneath the thick trees. Ghost looked surprised at her appearance and looked to König but König must've said it all with a look because he didn't otherwise say anything. 

"As you say, I will lead the way. Stay close"

Calina couldn’t describe why being surrounded by two giants of men lit a fire in her stomach rather than make her scared. Pushing the thought off to the lack of human contact and touch within the last two years she tried to ignore the feeling of Ghost against her back following her up the mountain with König in front of her blocking the downward wind. 

However, the three of them stop suddenly as they hear a huge crack in the earth. Like it was the call of her people, Calina knew instantly what it meant and grabbed König in front of her, throwing him back onto a rock beside them. 

“Avalanche!” Calina yelled to Ghost behind her as she reached to pull him to safety but instead of finding him standing behind her he had lost his footing and was fighting against the loose snow. 

Calina hurriedly reached down to grab his hand but as they connected hands she quickly realized that she was not strong enough to hold onto his body weight against the pull of the avalanche and she was quickly pulled forward against the rock at the added weight. 

Bracing for the coldness of the snow, she was surprised at the sudden heat against her entire body. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she realized that König was practically laying on top of her body reaching for his team mate and preventing her from falling into the avalanche. Pure muscles worked above her as König pulled Ghost onto the rock. Trying to calm the fire in her stomach, she rolled out from under König after Ghost was pulled to safety. 

“You got quick reflexes,” Ghost said to her as he brushed off the snow from the layers of tactical wear. 

“I grew up in these woods, it was mostly muscle memory” Calina avoided looking into their eyes trying to calm her beating heart. 

“Either way you saved our lives. We are in your debt” König looked at her in a way that made her want to combust. She hated how seductive that sounded and she absolutely loathed the way Ghost was staring at her like he could read her mind. 

Not trusting her voice she quickly stood up, instantly feeling a rush of ice cold air on her face. Coldness seeped into her bones from the lack of protective clothing. The light jacket and linen pants did next to nothing at keeping her warm and as the adrenaline in her body wore off the more she was being affected by it. 

Ghost noticed her body shaking from the cold and the strong urge to protect her almost knocked him off his feet. He tried to remind himself that she is a part of their extraction and nothing else but the way that her scent carries over to him as the wind goes through her hair and the feel of her body pressed against him as she unconsciously goes behind him to block herself from the wind makes him want to abandon all sense of control. 

However, he realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling that way as he looked at his teammate finding a similar light in his eyes as he remained locked on the woman cowardly behind him. 

Shaking off the thought, Ghost searches out in the distance for any form of shelter to get her, them, out of this weather. Looking through his NVG’s he finds a small shed located half a mile away. It looked small for the three of them but it would have to work. 

“There is shelter to get through the night, just half a mile north” König nods to Ghost to lead that way allowing Calina to get in between them once more. 

Calina tried to calm her shivering offering the thought of persevering for half a mile and then she could be warm. But she knew that to be unlikely, the only shelter she can imagine in such an isolated place is not livable. Meaning she will not be sleeping in a bed nor among thick blankets she doubted they would even be able to light a fire, the realization of that almost sent her to tears. 

She trained her eyes on the back of Ghost, noticing his body also being affected by the cold. His body visibly vibrated from shivering, his arms stretched across his chest trying to preserve body heat. Calina quickly sobered up from the cold and realized that these men were not born and raised through Russia’s winter. Her body and blood was born for these mountains. The softness of her body was made to combat these temperatures. 

However, these men were made of pure muscle and none of the softness that kept her somewhat warm. By the time they reached the shed the toughest members of the 141 were broken down into two trembling masses. Calina quickly rushed towards the door of the shed and pulled it open against the wind. Ghost and König shuffled in while she closed the door making sure no wind could creep in. 

König had never felt so cold in his life. He could feel it in his blood clinging to his bone. It was embarrassing that he couldn’t stop shaking. His hands vibrated against him as he stood on wobbly knees. 

He has crossed the most dangerous of organizations, the deadliest of humans, and yet this night the cold will finish him off. 

It was humbling to say the least, to watch a woman that has experienced nothing but solitude and isolation amongst her own fathers murderers for the last two years was handling this better than him. He and Ghost watched as she searched the shed for any blankets or extra clothes, though they doubted they would fit either man. 

Tears were forming in Calina’s eyes as she pulled a thick soft blanket from under a box. She could almost laugh as she realized that she would be able to survive through the night. For the first time that night she was finally able to relax and for the first time in two years she was able to sleep knowing she was safe. Turning to Ghost and König, she held the blanket in front of her proudly as a way to show them that they were probably not going to die tonight. Suddenly all thoughts left her brain as she finally realized the situation in front of her. 

She would have to sleep with them. In this small shed. Sharing one blanket. 

A familiar heat arose in her stomach at the thought of being sandwiched between these giants. A moan almost escaped her as she could imagine the warmth of being between them. 

Sometime in between the time of entering the shed to her finding the blanket, Ghost and König had both removed their wet clothes leaving them both in long pants that were under their uniform. Both males were shirtless and for the first time Calina realized that she could see their faces. 

Her mouth remained open as her eyes filtered between the two of them. They were devastatingly handsome in a roguish way that she expected. As she moved towards them she realized the height difference felt much more as they towered over her. 

“You should remove your clothes” König’s voice rattled.

Looking down at her clothes she noticed that the bottom of her pants and top were soaked from the avalanche and being pressed against the snowy rock. 

She refused to remember the feeling of being pinned by König. 

“Don’t fear you can trust us. You will get sick if you sleep in those wet clothes, liebling” König’s voice was gentle as he grabbed the blanket. Ghost quickly gathered some hay from the corner to soften the cold hard ground beneath them. König handed Ghost the blanket as he settled on the hay waiting for Calina and König. 

König was gentle in helping Calina out of her shirt and pants. He didn’t miss the way she covered her belly or chest after getting out of her wet clothes and König didn’t miss the way his heart squeezed against his chest at the sight of her. 

Calina’s heart was beating fast as she felt ghosts of König’s fingertips against her body. She tried to not feel embarrassed about her body as more of it became revealed. She definitely tried not to think of running back out in the storm when she realized that she didn’t have a bra on. She faced König and Ghost bare chested and was surprised when she wasn’t met with total disgust. 

Instead, König looked at her with a hunger and awe in his eyes while Ghost just looked like he wanted to devour her. Their attention almost made her feel warm but a sudden gust of wind knocked against the house making the shed feel like an ice box. A violent shiver racked through her as König held out his hand gesturing to the makeshift bed of hay that Ghost was occupying. 

Calina settled on the floor facing Ghost leaving some room between them. However, that served no purpose as König squeezed in beside her pushing her body flush to the front of Ghost while König was pressed against her back. Warmth immediately seeped into the three of them as König covered them with the thick blanket that thankful was big enough to cover all of them.

A silence filled the air as Calina was trying not to freak out at being sandwiched between two of the hottest giants she has ever come across. She could feel the ripple of their muscles as they both shuffled to make themselves more comfortable in such a limited space. She remained as stiff as a board as they adjusted themselves hoping that they can’t feel her body in such an intimate space. 

A warm arm stretched out behind her and tightly wrapped around her torso pulling her snuggly the hard chest behind her. She let out a gasp at the feeling of being pressed to every inch of König’s body, trying not to think of what König thinks of the skin beneath his hands. 

Ghost watched as Calina blushed at the feeling of being held in such an intimate way. He wondered how long it had been since someone held her like this, since someone cared for her. Reaching his hand out, he ghosted his fingertips across her hairline down to her brows. She was looking at him so softly it made his heart squeeze beneath his chest. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his own and tried to not think about the way that it affected him. 

Nearly impossible to get closer, Ghost gently grabbed her arm that was pressed against his chest and guided it around his waist. He could feel her hesitate before she completely melted against him. She nuzzled her head into his chest and wrapped her leg over his own. The thoughts in his head were going static but he ignored them as he leaned down to press a smile against her hairline.

Calina was absolutely buzzing from the attention, she felt absolute warmth rush through her body and sit in her chest. A smile permanently etched on her face as she felt the pull of sleep. 

Ghost and König watched as she fell asleep and went limp in their arms, their hearts fluttering when they saw the smile that she held in her sleep. Neither looked at each other but both knew they were thinking the same thoughts. 

Saving the conversation for another day, they followed Calina into the depths of sleep.

#könig x reader #cod ghost fluff #ghost #simon riley x reader #koing x reader #sharing body heat #pure fluff #cold #call of duty #john soap mactavish #price #original character

[macravishedbymactavish]

Hasn't Killed Me Yet (Simon "Ghost" Riley, GN! Reader)

Alternatively titled: "Ghost has had ample opportunity to kill me in 14 different ways and make them all look like accidents. But he hasn't yet, so I think he likes me" a song by Fall Out Boy"

TW for light swearing and threatening, likely military inaccuracies

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist |

Bags in hand, you made your way back to your room on base after taking a few days off to attend your friend's wedding. It was a beautiful event, with the added bonus that you didn't have to onboard the new recruits that started last week.

The new recruits crowded the halls with their whispers and stories.

He's fucking terrifying, man. He even looks at me, and I want to melt into the floor. If looks could kill, I'm telling you.

How long do you think before he snaps and goes on a rampage around base?

It's always the quiet but stern ones. I wish I could train with one of the others instead.

Your eyebrow arched, maneuvering your way through the bodies. Picking up on bits and pieces of the latest gossip. Finding it entertaining to hear the way they discuss your lieutenant.

"You really let Ghost traumatize recruits already, Captain?" You teased Price later that afternoon. Receiving a snort of amusement from the Brit.

"Ghost let himself do that. I only gave the training assignments, speaking of" he handed you a file, "your traumatized bunch. "

--

"Okay, wrap it up, cool down," you called, following a round of outdoor training. Luckily for you, most of the recruits seemed content (if not pleased), answering to a less intimidating superior.

I should take time off at the beginning of selection more often.

"You're back! We missed you!" A voice happily called out - you turned to see it belonging to Gaz. Followed closely by Soap and Ghost walking to where you stood in the field.

"Got back yesterday. Almost didn't feel like it, though, " you joked, quickly scanning over the recruits around you. "Thanks for covering my assignment, Ghost," you smiled, receiving a stiff nod in return.

"They're not scared of him?" You heard a recruit whisper, shocked by your casual interaction. You saw Ghost stiffen as Soap laughed loudly at the comment.

"No rookie, I'm really not." You turned, looking at all the recruits who went silent. Cool down momentarily forgotten.

"Ghost has had multiple, and I mean multiple chances to kill me in the field and make it look like an accident. But I'm still here, " you shrugged, turning back at the group of men.

"Just admit it, you have a soft spot for us LT," Soap laughed, lightly punching the older man in the shoulder.

"Just because I haven't killed you yet doesn't mean I'm not going to. Especially if you keep up with that rubbish, " Ghost explained, rolling his eyes. "Oi! Did they say cool down was done? Didn't think so!" He called to the recruits who were still watching your interaction, causing them all to immediately busy themselves with the assignment at hand.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221

#cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 imagine #simon riley #cod ghost imagine #cod ghost fluff #simon ghost riley fluff

[mcntsee]

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

#y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #cod x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #konig x y/n #harry potter x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows x reader #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x y/n #wylan van eck x reader #fanfiction #fluff #angst #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #the umbrella academy x reader #five hargreaves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader

[ghostly-whiskey]

simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.

and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.

bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.

your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.

you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.

again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!

and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:

p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader fluff #simon ghost riley x reader fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost cod #call of duty #୨୧˚whiskey writes˚୨୧ #୨୧˚whiskey writes ghost˚୨୧

[simonrileysfavteacup]

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #simon fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fluff #coco's chaos <3 #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 17

An: Hello again! Enjoy a sprinkle of fluff (always with some angst of course) Thanks for reading :)

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 2700

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

I try and mimic the silence of his footsteps. The smoothness of his movements is almost inhuman. Like he isn’t truly in front of me but is rather a figment of my subconscious. Part of me refuses to believe that he is real. But I feel how the air whirls behind his broad frame. How the metallic scent of gunpowder trails behind him no matter the setting. War follows him. I follow him.

Ghost stops in front of a door at the end of a long hallway. To the West, a red exit sign illuminates the otherwise dim corridor with a red glow. Not another soul is present.

The sound of the lock echoes off the cement walls as Ghost slides the key card back into his pocket, pulls the handle down, and holds the door open, waiting for me to walk ahead. After an almost sleepless night, too much caffeine, and the constant feeling of being watched, even my bones feel skittish.

As I step inside, I realize this room isn’t an office or conference area. It’s not a supply closet or interview space filled with intimidating tools. Like my own, this room is filled with a bed, dresser, and small washroom.

I asked him for somewhere safe to talk and he brought me to his room. Something in my heart clenches. This isn’t a part of him I’d ever expected to see.

I know it’s not really his. That it belongs to the task force and isn’t a true reflection of his character. But entering the space – his space – feels intimate. This isn’t something others get to see. Ghost doesn’t just invite people back to his room. Bringing me here is intentional. He wants, no, needs me to know that no one can get me here. No one will even know where I am.

“Is this your room?” I ask as the door locks behind him. Ghost crosses and then uncrosses his arms as he stands at the edge of the room, not sure about the best position to take. His goal isn’t to come off as intimidating, but even with innocent intentions, it somehow just happens.

“It is,” he sighs, considering his next words. “Y/n if I’m going to help, you have to stop hiding from me.”

“I’m trying,” although, I’m not sure that’s the truth. I see how closely Ghost’s eyes watch me. How his trigger finger twitches at his side when he’s stressed. How he clenches and unclenches his hand in a fist to try and get it to stop. I see how much he is holding himself back right now in an effort to make me feel safe.

“When did the Ultranationalist make contact?” Ghost asks quietly, maintaining the stillness of the room.

“Last night.”

“Was that the first time?” his dark eyes follow as I start to pace between the twin bed and dresser.

“Yes,” I pause. “Since the prisoner.”

“It was just the one?”

“Yeah, but Ghost,” I feel that all too familiar strain in my throat. “There’s more than one.”

“He said that?”

“He said ‘we are plenty and we are strong’,” I hear his words ring between my ears. We are plenty and we are strong. How many is plenty? How many of them have infiltrated 141? I see those same questions and more floating around behind the skull mask.

“Did you recognize him?” urgency creeps its way back into his voice.

“He was wearing a mask,” I start.

“But did you recognize him?”

“I think so,” I know so, but telling him could do more harm than good. Not that I have much of a choice.

“Who?” he urges. Ghost’s feet shift closer and his shoulders lean forward. I see the reminder flash behind his eyes to pull back, to restrain the fury boiling under his skin. If I were brave enough to reach out and touch him I’d only scold the tender flesh of my palms.

“Do you remember that day on the van when we were being transported between bases? I sat between you and Soap?”

“Affirmative,” his response is immediate.

“There was a man, I couldn’t see his face, but he was making jokes about me and soap babysitting until you told him to stand down,” I recall the event in my head and how uncomfortable it was.

“I did.”

“Yesterday the same guy confronted Soap and me in the hall. He said that Friday shouldn’t have gone down like that. That’s why I ran off and Soap did whatever he did,” he intently holds my gaze, clinging to every word. “I don’t know his name. But I know it was him.”

“Bennett, that fucking bastard,” Ghost lowly hisses. He fists his hands as he starts to pace near the door. I watch a variety of horrific torture methods flash through his mind. “I’ll fucking kill him,” his voice is coated with a fatal venom. The kind that burns through its victims' veins. The kind that slowly paralyzes its prey, leaving them to watch themselves be devoured whole in absolute horror.

“Don’t,” the choked word barely escapes my mouth.

“He won’t live to see fucking daylight, y/n,”

“Ghost,” I try again, but see his thoughts running wild. His chest heaves and his pace quickens. If I don’t step in now, he’ll be out the door on a flaming path of vengeance. If I don’t stop him and the Ultranationalists find out that we know who one of their moles is, they will kill even more people.

I take a brave step forward, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice. His eyes are focused on a path beyond my sight. I try again, this time stepping directly in his way.

“Damnit, y/n,” he mutters.

“Simon, you need to listen to me,” my hand reaches for his arm, landing gently, but firmly on his bicep. Searing heat pours from his skin into my own. Finally, he falters, coming to a stop. “Please?” I feel the heat start to disperse as his eyes glance down at the contact. His sleeve is a rough canvas material and I can’t help but long for the smooth texture of his skin gliding against my own.

“He said that they have men tracking five people I care about back home in New York. That my father provided the information and that if anyone finds out their identity, they will kill them. You can’t hurt him. He can’t even know that you know,” the pleading is evident in my voice. I have no reason to hide my desperation from him, yet I hate how weak it makes me feel. How I’ve been stripped of any power I had. How the sanctity of my life and so many others lies in the hands of all these different men who can’t even begin to comprehend the value of such a thing.

My own emotions are so heightened it makes it difficult to tell what Ghost is feeling. His arms are tense with anger, but there’s so much more to him. Part of me wonders if he feels the same type of fear that I do, but his emotions don’t control him the same way mine control me. They don’t manifest in the same way. It’s hard to understand his desires and actions when his mind operates so differently than the average person’s. But Ghost also isn’t immune to the occasional slip-up. Ringing the alarm right now would be exactly that. Unless in his mind it wouldn’t be. Because Ghost doesn’t value the people in my life the same way I do. His job is to bring an end to the Ultranationalists, not keep my people safe.

And that thought is enough to set me even more on edge. Because ultimately, our goals are not the same.

“What do they want you to do?” his sharp eyes drag down my face and I feel myself squirm under the sensation.

“They already suspect a trap, they’re counting on it. And they want me to tell them all the details of how Price plans the exchange,” my voice is low and urgent as my heart thrums against my ribs.

“So they can plan another ambush,” Ghost fills in the blanks.

“He said he’ll stop by my room again,” I whisper. The confession almost feels shameful.

“When?” Ghost’s hands rest on top of my shoulders, his grip stays light but the weight isn’t reassuring.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But he has a key card.”

“That fucker,” he mumbles. I step away from Ghost and pace the room once before sitting on the edge of his perfectly made bed. Stormy eyes closely follow my every move. Part of me just wants to be alone. The other part wants to sink into his chest as his strong arms pull me in deeper until I disappear completely. All I want is to disappear.

Ghost crosses the room to the dresser before reaching in and pulling out a small tin that he slips into a pocket on his vest. Then he carefully approaches the bed. His steps are silent across the cement floor like he’s gliding across a sheet of ice. His shoulders have sunk a little and his hands are no longer in fists. His trigger finger doesn’t twitch at his side. He’s reeled in those dangerous emotions, contained them for now.

Ghost comes to a stop between my legs. An ungloved hand reaches out to grasp a strand of my hair. He gently rolls it between his fingers. I’ve come to notice how often his fingers wind themselves through my hair. It brings out the softer side of him. One more akin to Simon than Ghost.

My eyes lock onto his and follow them as Simon sinks to his knees in front of me. Here he kneels on the floor, his chest resting between my legs as I sit on the edge of his bed. Now, our eyes are finally even. My stomach flutters from our position. Both of his hands come to rest on the outside of my thighs. His thumbs rub in reassuring circles around the fabric of my pants.

“Did he do anything else?” his voice is barely audible. Simon won’t dare say it, but I know where his thoughts have wandered. His eyes are both hard and soft. There’s an everlasting ambiguity about him. He blames himself for letting this happen.

“No,” I match his hushed volume. I think back to the feeling of the knife tracing down my shirt and while the implication was there, ultimately nothing happened.

The comforting heat of his arms seeps into my thighs. Simon’s head tilts ever so slightly as he tries to see where my thoughts went to. But he doesn’t push it.

“Just this?” his hand reaches up to the cut at the base of my neck as the back of his index finger traces the thin line.

“Just this,” I confirm although my neck will hardly be the only scar I have if I walk away from this nightmare alive.

Simon reaches into one of many pockets and pulls out the tin from earlier. He pops the lid off. Inside looks to be half filled with a type of salve. “This’ll help it heal,” he scoops up a small amount with his middle finger.

One hand pulls my shirt down to expose more of the cut while the other rests against my collarbone and lightly applies the salve. My mind drifts to all the times he’s done the same with his own scars. How many times has he sat in this very spot, gently dabbing the tincture on his wounds? Or does he even care about himself enough to try?

I revel in our closeness. How the sides of his stomach and ribcage brush against my inner thighs. The pressure of his hand resting against my collarbone. How the hand once grasping my shirt now lightly holds my hip as he steadies himself. And how the thumb of that hand gently rubs back and forth along my pliable flesh. Simon’s eyes intently watch his middle finger as he dabs the salve on the cut. I want to pull him on top of me, feel his full weight press me further into the mattress.

Even after he’s finished applying the salve, Simon’s hand lingers. Like he isn’t ready to pull away. Like he’ll miss the heat of my skin almost as much as I’ll miss his. Maybe more.

When he finally looks up, I have trouble breathing. There’s something about his eyes that is just so beautiful. Beautiful and heartbreaking. They pull me into an unbreakable trance. All the white noise, all my troubling thoughts, just disappear. Neither of us dares to speak.

I reach up to grasp his hand and place it on my cheek. There it finds its natural place, cupping my soft skin against his rough callouses. Acting so gently, so tenderly, so against the merciless inclinations that have been beaten into him since birth.

Here is a man whose cruelty has defined his identity. Who has racked up a kill count too high to keep track of. Who the enemy tells ghost stories about to scare their recruits. Who is so notorious, yet so illusive, he is no more real to them than the legends that echo the halls. And here he rests in front of me, on his knees.

I lean into his touch. Warmth spreads throughout my body stemming from his hand. It feels like sunbathing on a Sunday morning. The kind of warmth that makes the bad things disappear for just a little while.

“Keep the salve. Apply some more before bed,” Simon whispers. And there he goes and ruins it. Because now I’m thinking about my bed and my room and the impending intruder who’s made a promise of returning.

“Don’t make me go back,” my throat tightens. I know it’s no use.

“You have to be there when he returns,” his soothing thumb brushes along my cheek.

“Let me stay,” I murmur.

A deep sigh is pushed from far within his lungs. It’s the kind of sigh that is paired with a fair bit of deliberation. The kind that says he’s going to act against his better instincts.

“Just until dinner,” Simon responds.

“Will you stay?” I ask.

“Negative,” and he’s already shifting away from me. The warmth slipping away with him. I reach forward and grab both his arms just hard enough to stop him from leaving. His eyes latch onto mine once more. They soften ever so slightly. He wants to stay. God does he want to stay. But he’s already been gone too long. People will start to notice.

“Thank you, Simon,” I mean it. So much so that I could say the words one hundred times over and they’d mean no less. But he’ll never understand that.

“Don’t,” his low voice warns. I second-guess how my hands wrap around his forearms for just a second. But I don’t move. Not now. Not after everything.

“No. I mean it,” I say. “Thank you.”

He stands and breaks away from my grasp, but doesn’t move away. Two large hands cup both sides of my face and urge me to stand.

“You can’t say that,” his voice is dead serious. “Not when this is my fault.”

“Well I’m going to,” he tenses when I wrap my arms around him. I’ve gathered he’s not used to affection. Not from friends. Not from family. And certainly not out here. But that doesn’t matter. I need to touch him. Feel him. Know that he’s real and he’s here.

Another deep sigh escapes his chest. And then something unexpected happens.

I feel Simon’s lips press a tender kiss to my forehead. I don’t know when he rolled up his mask and I don’t dare break away to look. Instead, I bask in the small, yet significant action. I breathe in his familiar scent and let the moment drag on as long as possible. I take note of how he’s shaved since returning from the cabin. How much smoother his skin feels.

His hands move to my hair. His fingers lace through the soft strands and linger there for quite some time. I don’t know how long. But even after he pulls away they’re still there.

“You still have that knife I gave you?” his breath brushes against my face.

“It’s under my pillow,”

“Good,” Simon says, although I feel him slipping away already. “You’re going to need it."

PT 18:

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[ghostlychief]

first off love your writing !!!!!! I was wondering if I could get a story about ghost where the reader is pregnant and they’re doing the baby shower and it turns out to be a boy and ghost is extremely happy???💞

thank you so much!!! apologies for such a late reply, I know you sent this in awhile ago. hope you enjoy <3

---

beautiful boy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

wc: ~620

warnings: none; fluff

---

You’re currently upstairs, laying on your bed, with a ribbon held in between your hands. A soft smile graces your lips as you look down at the baby blue material, thinking about the little bean growing inside of you.

Your baby shower was today, and in fact, is still going on downstairs. You hear the muffled chatter amongst your guests throughout your house from upstairs, and a feeling of gratefulness washes over you. You’re currently five months pregnant, and as much as you love a good party, your feet were aching after standing for hours, hence the reason why you are currently in your bedroom and not downstairs with everyone else. You came up to rest only for a short bit, before you head back down and join everyone again.

You opted to wear a light yellow babydoll dress, wanting to be neutral for the gender reveal. You honestly did not have a preference, and were just ecstatic that you were expecting, and celebrating with all of your close friends and family. The light yellow, and the cut of the dress complimented you well, making your complexion glow, and highlighting your ever-growing baby bump.

Simon was speechless for a minute or two when you finally popped out of your bathroom, showing him your finished look before all of the guest arrived for the party. After his momentary pause stuck in awe, Simon breathed out, “You look absolutely beautiful,” and wrapped you in a warm hug. It was a quiet and intimate moment you guys shared before your house started filling up with guests.

Simon also decided to dress neutral but as your eyes moved up and down assessing his outfit, you noticed the subtle blue socks covering his feet. You always knew he wanted a baby boy, but you knew he would be happy and grateful for a girl or boy, just as long as you and baby were healthy. It’s just one more thing that makes you love him as much as you do.

You decided not to comment on the socks, and simple beamed at him saying he looked just as handsome as when you first met.

The gender-reveal itself went smoothly, and of course Simon was over the moon that you were having a baby boy, and since then, the quiet grin that bloomed on his face has not left.

The memory of the reveal plays over in your mind, and you’re lost in thought as you stare at the ribbon. You’re unaware that Simon has entered the room until you feel the bed dip behind you. Simon lays behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and his hand gently rubs on your bump. He rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at the blue fabric you’re holding. He leaves a kiss on your shoulder, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his embrace envelops you, and you feel tears start to form in your waterline.

You bring your hand up to rest over his that’s still on your tummy, and you manage to choke out, “I haven’t even met him yet, but I know that he’s going to be the most beautiful boy.” You lightly sniff, and the tears finally fall down your cheeks. Simon reaches over you to catch your tears with his thumb, and he gently caresses your face, giving you a kiss on your temple.

“I know, sweetheart.” He leaves another kiss on your temple, “You are his mom, after all. Of course he’s going to be beautiful.” You let out a laugh, and squeeze his hand.

Simon and you continue to stare at the blue ribbon, committing this day to memory, and dreaming of what’s to come.

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[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

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[peaches-creek]

“You are squishing me.”

“I’m afraid you will live.” He bluntly says.

Simon was currently draped across you on your shared bed, essentially pinning you to the mattress. His eyes were closed as his head lay on your chest. He just came home from a mission, only to start a new one: snuggle with his lovie AKA you. Lucky for you he stopped to take a shower. Anyways, here you were, glued to the mattress as Simon just breathes you in.

“Was it a tough one?” You ask.

“Always is rough when I can’t see you for a month.” He huffs.

“I’m sure you did a great job, Price told me last time I saw him that he always is proud of how hard you work, he tries to tell you but you don’t let him.”

“He’s a sap.” He says. You only laugh, turning your head to kiss his head.

“Well Mr. Riley, I say we call it a night.”

“Mrs. Riley, I have been waiting for you to say those words.” He grunts, lifting his hand up to pull the light switch off.

“I love you Simon, I’m glad you are home.”

“Me too, lovie, me too.”

He presses deeper into your chest, giving it a small kiss. You begin to rub his back and neck, putting the 6’3 military man to sleep just about instantly.

#simon riley #simon riley headcanons #simon riley hcs #simon riley fluff #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost/reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

I need Simon Riley who realizes just how much he loves you when he has a night terror.

He shoots out of bed with a shout, quickly looking to your side just to see it empty. His heart quickens even faster, images of your dead body, blood pouring out of your mouth and ears, eyes frantic before they still and glaze over. Remembering the scream he lets out as he shakes you, begging you.

"Please, please don't fuckin leave, love. God, not you. Please, you promised!"

He's having a panic attack and before he even processes it, he's running to the bathroom. Throwing him head into the toilet bowl, puking everything up as if his entire body is rejecting the very possibility of you no longer being there. He can't stop the tears ripping out of him and his fast, suffocating breaths stinging his throat as if the vomit isn't even there.

He doesn't even register your hand on his back, your panicked calling out to him.

"Baby? Baby what's wrong? Please talk to me" You beg, brushing his hair back, trying to hold onto him.

His wide, tear filled eyes meet yours and he throws himself into your arms, holding onto you like a lifeline. His crying doesn't stop, the intense emotions still overwhelming his senses.

"God please never leave me. I swear to god I'll be the best for you. I'll keep you safe, nothin's gonna happen to you" He swear as if he'd be your own guardian angel.

"Baby what happened? Did you have a nightmare?" You pet his hair, beginning to realize what's happening.

"I can't lose you, I can't. Not you. Please, I can't." He cries into your shirt, trying to calm down but he feels genuine fear that he doesn't feel outside the battlefield. You hold him as his breathing slows down, exhaustion overtaking him. You settle against the wall, fingers combing through his hair as you both fall asleep. Safe to say he doesn't have anymore nightmares that night.

(Friendly reminder that traumatized men aren't always fully numb and military men can have feelings !!)

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[victoryverse]

simon can't get over the feel of how tight your cunt gets everytime he comes back from a mission. it's not been stretched in a while, your little fingers or toys are nothing in comparison to his fucking thick length.

"shit" he curses with every thrust, "how do you get so fucking tight every time? jesus christ. just squeezing me, aren't you?"

your mouth would be dropped open, pleasure and pain mixing together, your tight pussy opening up to take him in.

again and again, rough, full thrusts that make you run your nails down his back. he doesn't even react to the pain of that, too focused on opening you up for him.

"shit. gonna have to fuck this pretty cunt every day"

he smirks as he sees you gasp and writhe beneath him, too fucked out to reply.

"multiple times a day too, yeah?"

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