#he will grow to be a very big simon one day

[moralesispunk]

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

[puff0o0]

@shoukiko @maxriley @konigceo

after all the very nasty and gross stuff I've been seeing about simon HC's lately on my dashboard, have some fluff :-)

☆ Simon riley is so tender with you further into your relationship.

☆ He never thought he would score someone so understanding of his issues. Sure, you have your arguments like every couple but you always made up in the end.

☆ You were the dream partner for him

☆ You told him what he needed to work on and helped him work on it.

☆ You didn't leave the second you saw something you didn't like and instead helped him get closer to you and show his love better

☆ Communication is a big thing for him after all

☆ It was hard for him at first, really really hard

☆ Adjusting to being loved and wanting to be held all the time, adjusting to being cared for, adjusting to trusting someone

☆ It wasn't something he grew up around and you knew that even though he didn't tell you it directly

☆ He avoided it at the start of your relationship, the most you got out of him were subtle touches like a hand on your waist when he was walking, putting his hand over edges of tables, pulling you closer to him by the belt or sleeve

☆ Slowly that evolved into more tender actions, like holding your hand and rubbing your knuckles, even kissing your hand at times when you two were alone

☆ He could never imagine hurting you or making you cry

☆ you're like a fragile and precious heart shaped glass to him

☆ sometimes he feels like he needs to squint looking at you, especially when you smile

☆ You're a stunning gem that is the light of his life that needs to be protected at all costs, even though you can protect yourself

☆ he wants to be the one to give you what you never got, not be the one contributing to what sad treatment you were given growing up and even leading into your adult hood

☆ He wants to be the one you let into your walls as he let you into his, the one who helps you trust as you helped him, the one who lets you cry on his shoulder as you let him rant on bad days

☆ just give him a bit and he'll make up for all the lost time he spent hesitating

#wishes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Simon riley x reader #Ghost x reader #Ghost x you #ghost x you #Call of duty #cod modern warfare #Ghost #Simon Riley #Simon riley #simon riley #Simon Ghost Riley #Simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley #ghost

[cordeliawhohung]

You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.

Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.

i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist <3

warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,

just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3

it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.

and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.

which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.

it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.

as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.

so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):

this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.

eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.

man is fucking obsessed.

he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.

also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.

because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3

oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!

also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.

"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."

the view is you, btw.

AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3

#mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader

[sweetpascal]

i am just so in love with husband!simon, i cannot stop these thoughts !!

.・゜゜'just because flowers'. there was a video i saw where this guy would take one flower from the bouquet he would give his partner so that he knows when the flowers start to die so he can get a new batch. simon is the husband to definitely do that. and even when they do dry up and become discolored, he makes sure to get a much larger vase so you can keep all of the dried flowers he would get you.

.・゜゜simon's attentiveness and his ability to react with quick thinking. he pays attention to everything. every singular detail, as little or as big. you mentioned you're running low of your favorite lotion. he'll go out the next day to buy you a jumbo sized bottle. you mention that you're starting to feel your cramps three days before your period starts. the next day, you see the pantry and fridge stocked with your favorite cravings. knowing that something as simple as mentioning something and him making the effort to do that without even being asked to is a GREEN FLAG.

.・゜゜he's a competence king. and when you want to learn, he teaches you without making you feel stupid. the car is making a funny squeaking noise? he figures it out in two minutes. the kitchen sink has a leaky faucet? he whips out his toolbox and goes to work under the cabinet. you want to learn how to shoot a gun for your protection? he teaches you of different types of guns, the bullets, the kickback, your stance, and more. this man was born to be a teacher ;)

.・゜゜simon takes date nights VERY SERIOUSLY. he understand that you are your own person, you have your own time to do your own things and have fun with friends. but he thinks it's extremely important as a married couple to set a specific time aside so you two can go out and have a date night. you obviously love how involved he is in your relationship and it's definitely a breath of fresh air.

.・゜゜husband!simon has for sure softened up after marrying you and has changed his views on children. you two don't have any of your own, but you would see how he is with your nieces and nephews. he treats them so gently and lets them climb all over him like a jungle gym. he'll do this thing where he'll have three kids on each arm and he'll spin around in the yard as the kids squeal and giggle. seeing him with his guard down when it came to the children made your heart grow in size.

#this man has my heart in a chokehold i swear #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon hc's <3 #husband!simon

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

hi!! i’m a big wuss and cry at least twice a week. could i possibly request a ghost x reader where reader is new to the task force and everyone but ghost has warmed up to them and really enjoys their bubbly presence? ghost says something kinda mean, reader cries, and then goes quiet for a few days/a week. everyone notices the change in their personality and gets confused until ghost makes it right <3

Thanks for this request!!🙃🩷 same same tho.

We All Have Our Demons

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of crying, swearing, angst w happy ending

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

You were recently just introduced to the 141 as the newest member. Your sniper skills were top tier, and Price had jumped at the opportunity to make you a part of his team.

The boys on the team had instantly taken a liking to you. You were a welcome addition to the team, and your presence alone helped shift the mood of the team tremendously.

Everyone on the team had been incredibly welcoming to you, all except Ghost. He'd been standoffish since you'd arrived, only giving you a nod when you'd introduced yourself. You had originally just chalked it up to him being weary if he could trust you. Which you more than understood, so while you kept your distance, you still made it a point to be nice to him.

He was always very curt and professional, never letting you hold a conversation with him, but that did not stop you from trying.

You'd always offer to help with various tasks, picked up coffee for him just the way he liked, and on multiple occasions had tried striking up conversations with him, to no avail.

One night, you'd decided you were going to try and talk with him. You weren't used to someone being so standoffish toward you, and wanted to know what you could've done wrong.

Making your way into the weapons rooms, you popped your head in to address your superior.

"Lieutenant?" You approached him with a wide smile.

He regarded you with clear disinterest and mumbled out a "What is it, Sargeant."

"I just wanted to check in with you, sir. I was wondering if perhaps.. I'd done something wrong?" Your hands started to grow sweaty, and you nervously rubbed them on your thighs.

He turned back to his weapon. "Wrong?"

"You just.. seem to not like me, and I'm not sure what I could've done to offend you."

"Like you? It's not my job to like you, and this isn't the place for annoying shit such as friendships. If that's what you're looking for, perhaps you should've looked to do any other field than this one, Y/N." Ghost sputtered, his eyes narrowing at you as he slammed his gun down in frustration.

Your mouth parted slightly, shock washing over you at his words. You knew he was a tough shell to crack, but you'd never thought he'd be so outwardly mean.

"Of course, sir. Sorry to bother you." You muttered meekly, turning to walk to the door. You blinked away tears, and aggressively wiped them from your eyes, not wanting anyone to see you cry.

~

For the next few days, you'd been rather quiet and kept to yourself. The boys would constantly come up and ask you to join them at the pub or for spar sessions, but you'd always politely decline.

Ghosts words had sunk deep, creating a wound you weren't sure how to heal. Were you really that annoying? Did everyone on base feel that way about you? The words ate and ate at you, and you'd ultimately decided to keep to yourself so as not to bother anyone around you. Perhaps Ghost was right. You weren't here to make friends.

The boys grew concerned, your normally bubbly attitude was gone, and they were lucky if they could even get a few words out of you.

"Anybody know what's going on with Y/N? They have been unusually quiet lately, and I'm worried about them." Soap had asked, sitting down to eat with Gaz and Ghost.

"I've tried talking to them a few times but can barely hold a conversation. You didn't hear it from me, but it was rumored that they left the weapons room crying Friday night." Gaz spoke, a sad smile forming on his lips.

Ghosts ears perked up at this information. You were with him in the weapons room Friday night. You left crying? Why would you have left- Oh. A wave of guilt came washing over him as he realized what had you so upset.

He truly didn't mean to make you upset. He was so used to keeping himself protected. He was afraid to let anyone else in. Then you came in with your bubbly attitude, and regardless of how much he tried to push you away, you still showed interest in him. He was so scared to open himself up to you, this ray of sunshine, and get himself hurt. He couldn't take more hurt in his life.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he went to go and find you.

~

You were sitting in the courtyard watching the night sky. Your mind was racing with negative thoughts that you couldn't seem to push away. Deciding to turn in early for the night, you moved to stand when you heard a voice call your name. You turned around and were met face to face with Ghost.

"Oh, Lieutenant. Didn't know you were out here. Don't mind me, I was just leaving." You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and made for the entrance.

"Wait." Ghosts voice halted your movements. "I uh, I wanted to talk."

You turned to him, tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, and nodded your head slowly.

Ghost looked to the ground for a moment before speaking. "I'm.. not exactly a guy known for extending warm welcomes."

You swallowed thickly, expecting him to continue, but he didn't.

"It's alright, sir. I understand." You said softly.

Ghost lifted his eyes from the grass to meet your warm ones. He felt his heart palpitate from the way you were looking at him. You'd looked so innocent to him.

"No. It's not. I don't give my trust out easily, not to anyone. But that's no excuse to treat you as I did." You could tell Simon was doing his best to apologize, in his own way.

"We all have our demons, sir. I can't fault you for protecting yourself and the team. But I assure you I have nothing but good intentions." You assured him, not breaking eye contact.

"I know." He nodded, his eyes shifting back to the ground beneath him. There was something about the way you looked at him. It made him feel things he'd never felt before. You were such a warm person, and he didn't know how to take you.

"Well, if that's all, I'll leave you to your night, Ghost." You turned to make your way out again, stopping when you heard him speak once more.

"Simon."

"Sorry?"

"My name, it's Simon." He lifted his eyes to yours, and held your gaze.

Your eyes lit up from the small bit of information he'd given you. It wasn't much, but it was a sign he was willing to try opening up to you.

"It's nice to meet you, Simon." You giggled, a vibrant smile covering your face.

He nodded, thankful his mask was covering the light pink tint that was forming on his cheeks.

"Theres... there's a coffee shop up the road. Usually, go to it every now and then. Good coffee there." He fumbled out, heart stammering in his chest. "Be my treat. It's the least I can do for being an arse."

"I would love that, Simon." You were practically beaming. You couldn't stop saying his name, and he sure wasn't complaining. He quite liked the way it sounded coming from your lips.

He held out his arm to you, and you gladly linked your arm in his. "Shall we?"

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

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Wasn't too proud of this one, tbh I rewrote it quite a few times.

Was kind of thinking of making this a 2 parter?

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley angst #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

[elexaria]

living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.

but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.

but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.

until you meet kilgöre alexander.

he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.

it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.

but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.

he disappears from time to time.

some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.

he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.

“just… wait for me.”

it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?

besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?

“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”

simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.

“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.

“whatev—“

“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”

johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”

you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.

johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.

simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.

“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.

he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.

he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap #poly!ghoap x reader #könig #könig x reader

[celestialwhoree]

Could you do a poly 141! If you’re comfortable with it! I’d prefer fluffy poly 141. Or if you’re not comfortable! Maybe Ghoap or just ghost x reader fluff! I’m not that big of a smut fan when it comes to cod, these poor military men just need a hug

with lots of love - 🩰

FERAL FOR POLY 141 FE RAL FERAL FERAL can u tell that I like this dynamic just a lil bit ( a totally normal amount )

You're pottering around the kitchen when the boys come home from the gym, said boys not including a very sullen Johnny who threw his knee out last week leading you to promptly issue a very firm bed rest order, swatting your tea towel at him when he'd attempted to slip out this morning with his gym bag.

Kyle is on you immediately to see what you're whipping up, whilst John goes off to shower and Simon goes to bring in more logs for the slowly dwindling fire. You attempt to shoo Kyle away as he and Johnny sidle up to your back, nipping at your neck or toying with your hair - making your cooking far more difficult. You successfully manage to shoo Johnny away with a spoonful of creme brûlée stuffed into his open mouth, whilst Kyle sticks at your side like a limpet, whinging about how he'd missed you at the gym and that the boys are all so testosterone-y, which you promptly shut up with a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. With the first lot of grumbling military men out of your hair, you seek Simon out where he smokes on the porch, a steaming mug of earl grey in one hand and a brownie in the other. He promptly moves his cigarette to his other hand so that he can scoop you up against his side, resting his chin against the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and perfume appreciatively. You yourself give an appreciative hum at the warmth of his presence, your wellies and pyjama shorts not doing very much against the chilly morning outside the cozy confines of home.

"How's Johnny?" He rumbles into your hair, pulling back momentarily to take a drag from his cigarette before sidling back up to you. "A pain in the ass." You huff fondly back, unable to hide the pity in your voice for the normally eternally energetic Scotsman. "Cabin fever's got him practically bouncing off the walls." "And you? Are you doing okay, birdie?" "M' just happy to have all my boys home and safe." The sound of your voice melts into the quiet birdsong and the eternally soothing sound of Simon's slightly raspy breathing from the deviated septum he'd managed to get after breaking his nose a few years back.

The sound of the door swinging open doesn't disrupt you and Simon from your shared moment of peace, John coming out with one of his cigars hanging between his lips, free hand snaking around your waist as he leans against the porch. Quickly you notice the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, and his expression focussed intently on what the person on the other end is saying. John puffs away at his cigar, fidgeting absently with the waistband of your shorts whilst you and Simon chat away about nothing, careful not to let your voices be heard by whoever John's on the phone to.

Growing sick of the cold, you give Simon and John kisses respectively before retreating inside where Kyle and Johnny have settled on the couch, playstation controllers in hand and a video game shown on the large flatscreen Johnny'd insisted you all bought when you moved in together. You're quick to shimmy up beside Johnny, settling your head on his lap, soothed by the sound of he and Kyle talking about the game, John and Simon soon joining the three of you. Simon squishes between Kyle and Johnny in order to play with your hair and chat to you about your day, whilst John gathers your legs up and plops them into his lap, tracing patterns across the bare skin of your calves as he reads something on his phone.

You eventually find yourself dozing off in spite of the ruckus around you, only waking at midday when you're coaxed off of the couch by Kyle who carries your tired body to the simple dining room where the others are laying the table, diligently having taken the large piece of meat you'd been slow roasting all morning from the oven, placed in the middle of the table.

The boys thank you as you all tuck into the hearty, late lunch you'd prepared, laughter and chatter filling the cozy room, gratitude palpable amongst you.

#Angies asks! #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #captain John price #John price #price #captain price #simon ghost riley #simon Riley #ghost Riley #ghost #Johnny soap mactavish #John soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap #Kyle gaz garrick #gaz #Kyle garrick #gaz garrick #tf 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #John price x reader #gaz x reader #gaz Garrick x reader #soap mactavish x reader #poly 141

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Can I request Simon's gf / wife asking him to do it with his military gear on. Like she one day she just blurts out with a dirty smile: "Do you think Ghost ever gets jealous that Simon gets to have all the fun? Maybe we should let him join in." I love Simon, but Ghost is something else entirely.

sɪᴍᴏɴ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ﹐ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! reader

HELLO????? This absolutely didn’t help my delusions and now I won’t stop thinking about it😫😫 THANK YOU ANON FOR REQUESTING THIS! I LOVE U💘💘💘💘💘

Trigger Warning: rough sex (MINORS DNI!) , mean Simon Ghost, edging, oral (m! receiving)

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. It was just you and Simon in your shared apartment. You were sitting on his lap, only wearing one of his shirts that were way too big on you. Him, on the other hand, was wearing a tight black shirt and joggers. His one hand was around your waist while the other one was writing on his computer since he still had some paperwork he had to send price.

You were getting a bit bored so came up with an idea… You blocked Simon‘s vision by centering yourself on top of him. Confused, Simon looked up to you.

"Simon… I‘ve got a question" you tell him, gaining his whole attention. The other hand that was working on his paperwork left the keyboard and also resting on your waist. His hands were so big that everything looked small in the palm of his hands.

"Go on, love" he rests back on the chair, only looking at you. It was crazy how you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Do you think that…. Ghost gets jealous that you always get to have all the fun? Should we let him join?" your flash him a dirty smile and your innocent eyes were making it hard for him to stay calm. But nevertheless he still failed. When you’re looking at him like that, how is he supposed to not be nervous?

"I don’t know… Maybe we should ask him. Do you want to leave a message for him?" he asked you as he slowly got up and placed you on top of his desk. You pull up your shirt slightly and you could see that Simon was trying very hard to not take you now. As you bite your lip, you reply "Yes. Tell him to not be kind…" At your reply, simon raised a brow, clearly not expecting this response from you.

He left the room for solid 10 minutes and when he came back, it wasn’t Simon standing in the room. No, it was Ghost. And you felt yourself getting too excited.

He was in his military gear and the skull mask was sitting on his face so perfectly. You felt yourself getting wet at the sight in front of you and the imaginations that didn’t stop running through your mind.

He made his way to you and without a warning separated your legs, exposing the head between your legs. He let both of his hands rest on top of each leg and was slowly bending down to the same level as you are. And you would be lying if you didn’t find it hot. Even your heart was racing.

"You asked for me?" he asked you. You quickly nod and lets out a deep chuckle. His hands remove the shirt you have on and now your left with nothing. You already planned on getting fucked by him today and this was your tease. His surprise…

"No bra and no panties. Someone came prepared huh? Such a dirty little slut.." his voice was so deep and the need for him to have no mercy on you was growing with each second you spend in this room.

His left hand took a good amount of hair, leaving you no control over your own body. And he slowly pushed you down on your knees. "Simon…" you desperately whispered and he shushed you with his free hand. "Simon is not here, love. Ghost is"

His pinky was playing around with your lips and as soon as his fingers left your lips, your hands made their way to gain access to his covered dick.

As soon as hick already harden dick spring free, you looked up at him. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling because his face was covered. "I‘m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours" he told you and you did nothing but not at him. "good girl"

As you slowly took a bit of huge cock in your mouth, you were wondering how the hell everything was gonna fit in your small mouth. You felt every single vein and inch of him. As you were slowly getting used to half of him, he started moving your head deeper and each time he would speed up. He was indeed ruining your pretty face. Your glassy eyes were looking at him and he looked straight, leaving moans slip out of his mouth. He was technically fucking your face. It was getting so fast that you had to hold on his belt. "Taking all of me.. good fucking girl."

"I‘m gonna cum" he spoke down to you but he didn’t let go of you. And you don’t want him to. "I‘m gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?" you hum in response and gained a deep groan from Simon Ghost.

As he let came in your mouth, he let go of your hair and patted your head. "Good girl. Good fucking girl" he said as he held your chin, helping you up.

"Ghost." you whisper but he doesn’t pay attention to you calling for him. He turns you around and slowly bends you over his office desk.

He wrapped his hands around your head and with his other hands he held both of your hands behind your back. Without any warning he slid into you, causing you to let out a moan.

He slowly started moving deep inside you and the pain soon disappeared. "Fuck. You’re so tight." he groans as he started moving faster. He was fucking you with full speed, not giving you time to get used to his length. "C‘mon, c‘mon. Tell me, who makes you feel so good? Who fucks this tight pussy better than I do" he pulls your head up with your hair and lets go of your hands. Both of his hands hold your boobs and he gives them a squeeze while he kisses your neck through his mask. "Answer me." he demands while he speeds up his motion. The only sound you can hear is the noise of your bodies colliding. As he thrusts deep inside you, you let out a loud moan and your hands hold the side of the desk for support.

"So needy.. couldn’t wait for my cock any longer. Next time you’re gonna beg for it." he promises and instead of answering, you leave your mouth open and close your eyes.

"Ghost" you moan his name, feeling yourself get so close. His groans in your ear makes it harder for you to focus and the need to release gets harder for you to keep inside of you.

"What is it? C‘mon use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me what you want." the thrusts feel so good, you don’t want him to stop. You need to him to destroy you. As he squeezes your tits, you let out a shaky breath. "Please. I‘m so close" you tell him. His one hand leaves your tit and spanks your ass. "You’re not gonna cum until I allow you to." he replies as he continues to thrust deep into you and spank your ass. And you could feel his finger print form. The cold metal from his uniform was touching your naked back, causing goosebumps all over your body.

"Ghost!" you scream his name and before you could even release, he slipped out of you. You let out a groan and let yourself rest on his desk.

"You wanna cum? You need to earn it." he tells you and slaps your ass. "How?" you desperately ask him and you could feel a devilish smirk form from under his mask. He turns you around and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his covered waist and he cages you between him and the wall.

"I‘m gonna ruin you." he promises and you hold onto the back of his uniform tightly as he pushes his length inside of you. His thrusts deep and fast, causing your whole body to move against him.

"Look down and look how good I fuck you" he demands and you do as he tells you. His cock disappearing in your wet pussy but you couldn’t look for too long. You closed your eyes again because you were confronted with the feeling to finally just cum all over his cock.

"Open your eyes" he tells you and you do. "Look how good you take me. This pussy was made for me."

"You can cum now" and you do, creating a mess on his cock. Your legs shaky, you let your head rest on his shoulder. "Took me so well. But you’re still too tight around me" you laugh and hug him tightly. He slides out of you, confronting you with the feeling of loneliness, and holds you tightly to him. "Next time, I won’t be this gentle with you"

The rest of the night went on and soon ghost disappeared into the closet and lets Simon come out. Simon was more gentle. He kissed you and hugged you the whole night.

You loved Simon. But if you needed wild sex, you have to ask Ghost. Because you know he won’t be gentle with you. And sometimes you don’t want him to be gentle. But of course afterwards you need your Simon back.

#fanfic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod mw x reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #cod #cod mwii

[xo-cod]

Simon rubbing your clit and playing with your nipples while kissing you not even sexual but just to calm you down and make you fall asleep😴🥺 it's just so comforting is it just me??

i love this so bad nonnie, you're def not the only one 😩😙 god i need him so fckn badly :")

cw: fingering, nipple sucking, ooc/soft simon (again), v v rushed ‼️‼️ but i can also go into depth if you'd ever like <33

simon noticed your restlessness, he'd noticed just how unsettled you were in bed as he watched you with observant eyes fidgeting around. he knew you were exhausted but your mind kept you awake for some reason, he didn't know exactly what. but he had the remedy to help, turning on his side to properly face again. you looked guilty, about to apologise yet again for keeping him awake by tossing and turning though this time he had simply reached forwards and captured your lips with his before you had the chance

"you want me to help you relax?" he asked softly, breaking the kiss for a moment as his head leaned a hair away from yours big brown eyes shining knowingly. it only resulted in a soft sigh, eager nods and whispered 'yes please' from you to prompt him further

so his hand slid down your body slowly and purposely, pushing your underwear to the side as you felt the thickness of his fingers coning into contact with your entrance. his breathing hitched softly, a soft hum of appreciation as his thumb rubbed against your puffy walls feeling your arousal coat his fingers.

"there we go, honey" his encouragement was soft as you feel him finally relieve the ache that had been growing inside you for the better part of the day. finally being able to calm down and relax, your body unwinding just by his touch alone. he keeps your legs apart with his knee, using his fingers to massage and toy with your pussy while his head leaned in to kiss you. his lips nudge yours, nibbling along the skin while he makes his way down your neck and across your chest. relishing in every part of your skin he could manage to dote upon

his pace remained the same, never deviating even the slightest. his mouth leaned down to gently toy and suck on your nipples. kissing on the mound of skin before working his way to the top, his tongue swirling on the bud to feel it harden against the muscle. his lips clamped gently around it, sucking and licking until he was content and releasing with a gentle pop as he gave the other the same attention in the hopes that it'd give you a little more relaxation. he wasn't as intense as he usually was, his touch soft and light with a purpose. a purpose to aid you in relaxation and sleep.

his fingers dipped up towards your clit, running deft circles across your swollen nerves. he didn't add a finger like he usually would, knowing it would get you worked up and his intent was the very opposite. so he continued to rub against your pussy slowly with two of his fingers, the other hand going towards the back of your neck. his other thumb swiped on your lower lip, chuckling softly at the look on your face. dancing alone the line of exhaustion and pleasure, too tired to do anything but lean into him. and simon kept you close to his chest, huge arms wrapping around your waist to keep you against him.

"there you go, sweetheart. rest your eyes f'me, yeah?" he hummed softly, his lips planting a gentle kiss against your temple as he felt your body grow weary in his arms

#asks #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader smut

[hyperactively-me]

Gurlll. What if another big royal comes up to ghost and says basically ‘how much for ur queen’ … basically wanting to buy her off of ghost ? And he says she’s not for sale but he says “everything has a price”. Maybe he’s been stalking her and tells ghost that he knows her schedule and what she likes.

After that graves chapter I need more DRAMA and more borderline feral and protective ghost

oomph the dramaaa (also don’t mind me making up random ass characters and random ass places for this hahahaahaha)

warnings: time-period typical misogyny, stalking, man being a creep, physical violence

A new trade deal was being signed today, and a big one at that. You had been informed that an entourage of court members from a neighboring kingdom would be staying in Kastron during the duration of the final deal talks and signage. 

The arrival of King Valerian of Malcenite and his high-ranking entourage had been a spectacle you had greeted with the utmost politeness and grace. Simon had stressed the importance of the trade deal for Kastron, and you had been on your best behavior throughout their stay, despite a nagging sense that something was amiss. The trade deal was signed multiple days ago, much to everyone’s relief. Yet, for some odd reason, they’ve shown no signs of packing up to leave, even after already being in Kastron for over a week. 

“It’s been a week, and the trade deal has already been signed, what more do they want from us?” you whisper to Simon with a furrowed brow. “Their presence is starting to become…overbearing.”

He nods in agreement. Simon’s eyes reflect the same unease that gripped you. “I know, love. It’s rather odd…They’ve never given me reason to doubt them.”

“We should find out what Valerian wants, Si. I mean, it’s really bothering me—” 

Simon placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, interrupting your words. “You should get some rest. Let me deal with Valerian, dove.”

Your heart ached with concern, but you knew Simon was right. The weight of your responsibilities of the week had taken its toll, and you were exhausted. 

“Please,” he urges you.

With a reluctant nod, you allow him to take charge of the situation.

“Fine…but let me know if you need me for moral support. You know how I can get during arguments,” you say playfully, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

“I know all too well, love.” 

As you retreat to your chambers, the unease that had settled over the palace refused to dissipate. As you slipped into bed, thoughts of King Valerian’s ominous intentions gnawed at your mind, but you trusted in Simon's abilities to handle the matter.

As Simon shut the doors to your chambers, he signaled for two guards to stand watch at the door. With that, he moved swiftly to find King Valerian.

. . .

Ghost had found Valerian out in the gardens. The moonless sky felt oppressive, the air thick with tension. 

King Ghost faced King Valerian with an air of authority that matched his regal presence. Valerian's calculating eyes bore into Simon's, their unspoken conflict echoing within the stone walls. He wore a cloak of arrogance, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling confidence. 

“King Valerian,” Ghost began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of authority, "we appreciate your visit and the successful trade agreement we've reached. However, I must ask about the purpose of your extended stay in Kastron.”

Valerian's lips curled into a sly smile, his fingers grazing over a bush of flowers. Your favorite flowers. “Your concern is touching, King Ghost. I assure you, my presence is simply a desire to further strengthen the bonds between our kingdoms.”

Simon's gaze remained unwavering, his suspicion growing by the second. “Forgive me, but your continued stay has raised questions among my advisors and my wife. We find it unusual.”

Valerian leaned forward, picking a flower from the bush, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. “Very well, King Ghost, I shall be forthright with you. The trade deal, as successful as it was, was not the only reason for my visit. There is something else I desire from Kastron.”

Simon's brow furrowed, his patience wearing thin. “And what might that be?”

Valerian's eyes glittered with a dangerous intent. “Your queen. I have watched her closely during my time here, and I have become enamored with her grace and beauty. Not to mention her fiery personality. It’s not quite fit for a woman, but I can always fix that. I believe she deserves better, far beyond what you can offer.”

Simon feels like his heart has stopped beating. “Excuse me?” he replied with icy resolve, no longer worried about offending Valerian. 

Valerian chuckles darkly, bringing the flower up to his nose. “The queen. How much for her?”  

Simon's fingers curled into fists at his side, his voice firm and resolute. “My wife is not a thing. She is not for sale. How fucking dare you.”

Simon's chest heaved with the effort of restraining his fury, and his clenched fists trembled with the pent-up anger he held within. He approaches Valerian angrily, sizing him up with a deathly glare.

Valerian's smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. “Everything has a price, even loyalty.”

“I know her schedule, her preferences,” Valerian continues, emphasizing the flower in his hand. Your favorite. “I've followed her every move. All you need to do is name your price.”

In a flash, Simon unleashed his anger in a single, powerful blow. With a swift and precise motion, he delivered a sucker punch straight to Valerian's face. The blow sent the arrogant man stumbling backward, crashing into the nearby garden wall.

“Get the fuck out of my home. Deal is off. Never fuckin’ show your face here again, disgusting bastard.” 

Valerian, nursing his bruised face, was forcibly escorted back into the palace by Ghost. 

“You know I can do much, much, worse than a single punch. Don’t fuckin’ cross me. Don’t fuckin’ come near my wife and I ever again.”

Ghost showed no mercy, manhandling Valerian in front of the palace guards, who looked on with a mix of shock and confusion. 

Simon shoves Valerian forward harshly into the hands of a couple of guards.

“Take this bastard out of my sight. I want him gone. Now. He’s unwelcome in Kastron.”

. . . 

Inside the palace, Valerian's actions had been made known. Rumors always spread like wildfires throughout the palace staff, and none were willing to lift a finger to help him pack. Simon had made it clear that Valerian was not to set foot in the palace again, and the guards at the gate had orders to keep him out at all costs.

“I do not want the queen to find out about this blatant disrespect from palace rumors. Go about your work.” 

. . .

Simon’s fury began to subside, replaced by a deep concern for you. He knew he needed to speak with you about the incident before the palace gossip reached your ears. 

Simon quickly made his way to your shared private chambers, where you were engrossed in some needlepoint. Knocking softly on the door, he entered to find you hunched over in your sitting chair, your brow furrowed in concentration. You had recently taken an interest in learning needlepoint, taking time to practice simple designs in your spare time. You look up for a moment, but go back to focusing on your work. You do a double take when you notice the worry in his expression. 

“What’s wrong?” you inquire, your voice gentle but tinged with concern. 

Simon sighed deeply and closed the door behind him, anger still coursing through him. “I…I have some…unsettling news, darling.” 

You immediately perk up, setting your needlepoint aside, focusing your attention on Simon.

“Go on,” you say, worry building up in your chest. 

As he recounted his encounter with Valerian, your expression shifted from curiosity to a mix of pure anger and disbelief. You stood up with a start, face pinched with hostility. You grab Simon’s dominant hand, the one he had punched Valerian with, and inspected his knuckles. Bruised. You drop his hand and look at him. 

“How dare he,” your voice trembles with indignation, your eyes blazing with determination. 

Your fingers clenched into fists, mirroring the wrath that had overtaken you. “I will not tolerate this impertinence,” you declare, your voice resolute. “To think that he would even entertain the notion of buying me like, like some piece of property. He will fucking rue the day he ever uttered those words.”

And with that, you swiftly make your way towards the double doors, throwing the doors open with a resounding slam. 

Simon watched in silence as you threw the doors open. Who was he to stop his angry wife? No, he would see this out. He knew that you were not one to be trifled with, especially when it came to matters of respect and dignity.

The palace corridors echoed your footsteps as you strode with purpose, and Simon hurried to catch up to you. He also was not about to let you be alone with Valerian. 

“Darling—”

You didn’t pause or slow down as Simon called after you. Your determination to confront Valerian had taken hold of you, and you were not about to let this insult go unanswered. Simon quickly follows behind you, slightly nervous to see how this would pan out. 

You turn to a palace guard standing alongside a wall. “Where is he?”

“Th– the parlor room, your majesty, he’s about to leave—” 

In a flash, you change directions, marching towards the parlor room where Valerian was currently being kept under guard. As you approached the doors to the parlor room, you could hear the hushed whispers and see the curious glances of the palace attendants. Two guards stood in front of the doors.

“Step aside, please,” you command, hands coming to rest on your hips. 

The guards look at you for a moment, then at Simon standing behind you menacingly. 

“Your majesty, he is dangerous—”

“I wasn’t asking.”

They look at you, then step aside, pushing the door open for you. You practically stomp inside the room, anger rolling off you in waves. Valerian, who had been sitting alone in a corner, looked up with a mixture of surprise and unease as you entered the room. The air grew tense with anticipation as you faced him, your eyes flashing with anger.

“You!” you declared, your voice carrying the weight of authority. “How dare you insult us?”

Simon raises his eyebrows at your forwardness, but chooses to stay silent, crossing his arms over his chest. Valerian eyes Simon wearily before facing you. Despite being confronted by your fury, he couldn't resist the urge to maintain his arrogance. He rose from his seat slowly, deliberately. You don’t back away. 

“Insult you?” he retorted. “Oh, my dear queen, it was merely a business proposition. I thought perhaps you might appreciate the opportunity to upgrade from this provincial life.”

Simon immediately takes a few steps forward, anger seeping back into his bones. He couldn’t bear to see him speak to you in such a way. But, ever steadfast, you persevere. Your fists clenched at his ignorance, and your anger surged anew. Simon watched with growing amusement, knowing that Valerian's arrogance was pushing you to your limit.

“How deluded you must be,” Valerian continued, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “To think Ghost could satisfy your desires with his meager offerings.”

The room seemed to vibrate with tension as you struggled to contain your rage. Your eyes locked onto Valerian’s, and in a flash, you lashed out. Your fist connected with his jaw with a satisfying thud. Nowhere near close to Simon’s force, but it was yours. 

“Yeah, thought a weak woman such as myself wouldn’t retaliate?” 

Valerian's smirk vanished as he held his aching jaw, shock overtaking his features. The room fell into stunned silence, the guards wide-eyed at the unexpected turn of events. Simon suppressed a smirk, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for you, who had defended not only her own honor but also his own. Fuckin’ hell.

You march up to Valerian and grab his ear, yanking him down to your level. “My husband has been nothing but kind to me. Your suggestions of him being incompetent and a monster is far from the truth. He is one of the most loyal and honorable people I know. You’ll never be a third of the man Simon is. And I'm not a piece of meat for you to enjoy, you sick freak.” You let go of his ear. “Stay away from me. Stay away from my husband.” 

And with that, you turn out of the room. Simon stands there, gives Valerian a once over, then turns out of the room in silence. 

Simon turns to a couple of guards. “It’s time for him to leave. Remove him from Kastron.” 

With a bow, the guards turn to forcibly escort Valerian out of Kastron, forever. 

As Simon turned, he caught a glimpse of your gown turn the corner back to your chambers. He follows behind you once more, practically running to catch up to you. 

“Darling, slow down–” he calls out, and you stop in your tracks, turning to face him. “He’s gone now—” 

You stand there, your chest heaving as you fight back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. The adrenaline from your confrontation still courses through your veins. It was a distressing experience, but you know you did what was necessary to protect your honor and your marriage.

Simon reaches you, his concern deepening as he takes in your flushed face and labored breathing. He gently places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with worry. “Dove, are you all right? That was a brave thing you did back there…”

Your lower lip quivers for a brief moment, and you summon every ounce of your strength to hold back the tears threatening to spill. Crying in front of Simon is something you've never done before, and you're uncertain about how he would respond.

Simon notices the struggle within you, his eyes fill with empathy. He gently reaches out, his fingers softly brushing away a stray tear that escapes down your cheek. His touch is warm and reassuring, and he leans in to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I– I’m fine, just frustrated, is all…I couldn’t stand by and let him insult us.” 

Simon’s expression softens as you move to hug him, pressing your wet cheeks into his chest. His strong arms wrap around you, offering comfort. “You're the strongest person I know,” he murmurs into your ear. “I'm so proud to have you as my wife.”

You hold onto Simon tightly, taking comfort in his strength. “I love you,” you whisper, feeling a sense of security in his arms.

. . .

Simon held you close that night, his arms wrapped protectively around you as you both lay in the comfort of your bed. The events of the day had taken an emotional toll on you, and you found solace in his warm embrace.

Pressed against his chest, your head rested on his shoulder, and his fingers traced soothing patterns on your back. In the silence, broken only by the gentle rustle of bedsheets and soft breathing, you felt the weight of the world slowly lifting off your shoulders. The words you'd spoken to Valerian, the confrontation, and the emotional release afterward—all of it seemed like a distant memory now.

Simon’s heartbeat, steady and reassuring, echoed in your ear, lulling you into a peaceful sleep. Wrapped in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had a partner who would always stand by your side.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#bad ass motherfucker reader #fluffy angst? #simon has never been more happy to see you hit someone on his behalf #simon let you take the reins this time #ghost will get superrr feral and protective soon enough besties #he loves to see you being confident af #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 3: Let's Have a Baby

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence and death (ofc), implied child loss Note: The much-awaited part 3 of The Captain! Thank you so much for all of your support! And don't y'all, Part 4 is brewing ;) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“Mohawk’s gettin’ particularly long, Johnny boy. When’s the last time you took any off the top?” Freyja asked, tugging at the end of a long strand at the back of his head.

“Dinnae dae that!” Soap whipped his head around and gave her a look of playful irritation. “If it weren’t for that wee barra in your belly I’d knock ya one, lass.”

“You wish, tough guy.”

“Just you wait, soon as y’return to full duty, we’ll have a square go, ye fuckin’ weapon.”

“I’ll block off my calendar.”

She and Soap had grown rather close since they all returned to England following the mission. As promised, Ghost spoke with Price, who convinced Kate to transfer her to the 141 permanently. While she was on desk duty for now, being on the same team would be tremendously helpful in keeping their schedules in sync. The couple could carpool to and from the base together, and John would do his best to keep them from being deployed at the same time.

Plus, she got to spend all her day with her friends and husband, which was a phenomenal change of pace from their previous setup. It was far less lonely being surrounded by the bustle of the busy base and having other friends to talk to besides Price.

They had a standing ‘play date’, as Price called it, every Friday night, where they watched movies, played board games, and ordered takeout. Board games usually ended in a heated exchange between her and whichever unlucky soul had crossed her (usually during Catan), her normally fiery temper heightened with each month of pregnancy that passed. There had been several instances of Ghost scooping her up in his arms and hauling her away to cool off before (any other) objects were lobbed at someone’s head.

One time, Freyja was in rare form when Gaz refused to trade for a material she desperately needed, and whipped a pointed dinner knife in his direction.

“What is with you guys and throwing bloody knives at me?!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air as Ghost dragged her off, screaming obscenities in various angry-sounding languages.

Soap jerked the blade out of the wall. “Dunno if I should be turned on or terrified,” he had said thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand. 

“BOTH, YOU SLIMY, CHEATING MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Catan was banned for a few weeks after that incident, and Freyja gave Kyle the following day off as an apology, though he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Freyja lowered herself into a chair on the other side of Soap’s desk and leaned her head on her fist, watching him do his paperwork. She’d already finished for the day but was waiting for her husband to fetch her and bring her home to prepare for another Friday with the boys.

“So, Captain, any big plans for this weekend?” Soap asked, still scribbling away at the stack of forms in front of him.

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Nah. It’s our anniversary on Sunday. Have a routine visit tomorrow to see how the baby’s growing. Nothing crazy.”

“Anniversary?! You didn’t tell me that was comin’ up!”

Her eyes rolled with a chuckle. “Soap, we aren’t showy people. Never have been,” she started, adjusting to sit straighter after having slid down in the chair a bit. Her round belly had started to weigh down her body a few weeks back, and she was starting to feel the effects of back and neck pain. “We weren’t together for very long when we got engaged, if you’d even call it that. We got married a few days later, as soon as we got back to the UK. Didn’t want to waste time, given our line of work.”

Johnny laughed at this, tossing his pen into a mug he fashioned as a stationary holder. “Oh, I’d bet he just loved slappin’ his name after ‘Captain’, too,” he joked with a raised brow.

The image of a spinning circle on a computer came to mind because that was exactly what she was doing. Buffering, her mouth open slightly while she processed his comment. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but nothing came out as she stared at the Sergeant.

He clearly picked up on her inner turmoil, because he asked, “What? What’d I say?”

Goddamn pregnancy brain. “Ah…Nothing. He didn’t like me taking his name, actually,” she mostly muttered, unable to find a way out of the conversation at this point. “He asked me not to change my name and I did it anyway.”

“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t Ghost want ya to change yer name?”

Freyja sighed as she rubbed a hand over the top of her bump, a recent habit for comfort. The baby hadn’t been particularly active that day, only offering a bit of shifting. “You’d have to ask him, John.”

She rarely called him John, so he knew the conversation was over on her part. “How’s your back?” Best to change the subject and move on. 

She was grateful for it. “Terrible. Even sitting here is bothering me.”

Soap lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. “I can do that thing I saw Ghost doin’ last week!” He was already in front of her before she could even answer.

He had been relentless ever since he caught their cute little private moment in the kitchen when she was supposed to be getting herself some fruit to snack on. Simon followed shortly after, offering to get her fruit bowl together for her so she could sit down again. Craving some semblance of independence, she instead offered to cut up her snack while her husband took some of the weight off her back.

“Walked myself right into that one. You just want an excuse to grope my belly.”

“Me? Never! M’offended that y’would say such a thing, Bonnie,” he feigned hurt feelings, pouting with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, fine! Come’ere, I’ll show you,” she laughed, high up in her chest. Freyja pulled herself up with his hands and moved them to the more open space in his office. “Alright, so I’m gonna stand here—“ She turned to press her back against his chest and took his wrist in her hands. “—then you just wanna put your hands flat like this—“ She flattened his palms just under the swell of her stomach, by each point of her pelvis. “—and now you carefully pull up. Emphasis on carefully.”

She groaned at the sudden relief, her head falling back against Soap’s shoulder as he just barely lifted her stomach. 

“There w’are. Steamin’ Jesus, how’s such a wee thing so bloody heavy?”

“Yeah, now imagine carrying that around with your back twenty-four-seven.”

They stood silently for a minute, soaking in the relief from the lack of pressure on her disks. A small hand dragged across the underside of her stomach, pressing against Soap’s hand. His chest rumbled against her back, but he held steady.

“Will anyone be coming for a visit? When she’s born?” It was bold of him to bring up such a sensitive subject, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“No.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

“I have everyone I need right here, Johnny. Who else outside my husband would give my back a break and hold my giant belly?” She reached back to jokingly slap his cheek a few times.

“Where’s that husband o’ yours at? It’s gettin’ late.”

A soft knock on the open door had her turning her head. “I’m comin’, Jesus,” Ghost said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, t-shirt tight as ever. He took in her smiling form, intrigued by the scene in front of him. He smiled beneath his mask, eyes crinkling slightly. “How are my girls?”

Freyja flinched, a hand flying to her belly at the sharp kick. She sported an angry pout. “Ow! That hurt, you little–”

“Be nice. She can’t help that I’m her favorite.”

She pulled out of Soap’s hold, sad to lose the help on one hand, but thrilled to see Simon on the other. “You’re so obnoxious. I’m literally creating her organs and limbs, making sure she has ten fingers and toes, and I don’t get so much as a single hand or kick. But the second she hears your stupid voice, she’s suddenly an MMA fighter,” she complained, shoving at his shoulder. “Un-fucking-believable. I hate you.”

“Mmm, sure you do. How will I ever get back in your good graces?”

“I want Chinese tonight.”

“I think I can manage that.” Ghost bent down to gently, but briefly, touch his forehead to hers, one of their familiar gestures to refrain from more overt displays of affection on base. She would occasionally give him a peck over his skull mask, and they often shared passing touches, but neither partner was a huge fan of PDA. In the comfort of their own home, they were much more obvious, even around the other members of the team. Just not on base (save for a quick romp. Or two. Or– y’know what, never mind).

“Aw, lookit ya wee sook,” Soap cooed, nudging Ghost with his elbow as he walked past, gathering his things to head home.

She giggled and patted Simon’s pec. “He really is!”

Simon grumbled but guided Freyja to the door with a hand on her lower back. “If you lot keep talkin’ nonsense around me, I’ll pop a gasket.”

“It’s not nonsense, Simon. It’s a beautiful language. One that your people just so happened to smother into near extinction,” she sang, pursing her lips in a challenge as she looked up at him walking next to her.

“OOO, sick burn, lass!” Soap smacked their hands together, laughing heartily.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

~*~

Simon checked the time on his phone again with a deep sigh, shaking his head. He detested getting to work anything past ten minutes early, and it was currently five past six. Freyja had told him to go ahead and toss their baby bag in the car, which he had done ten minutes ago. He insisted they keep their ‘go-bag’ (her word, not his) with them, either in the car on errands or on base during the work week.

The area around their front door was littered with broken-down cardboard boxes from various toys and furniture from the nursery. The Task Force had turned out to be extremely generous uncles, to the point where the Rileys hardly had to buy anything. Johnny and Gaz were by far the worst listeners, continuing to purchase mountains of clothes long after Freyja and Ghost begged them to stop. Enough clothes that she would never have to wear the same outfit twice for the first year of her life.

Not even born yet and already spoiled rotten.

Her boots weren’t in the tray by the door, so she must have gotten to that part of her routine, at least. He pushed off the door frame in their entryway, making his way toward the living room. “Frey, what are you doin’? We’re already five minutes late–”

He cut himself off when he laid eyes on the sight in front of him – his wife, now 39 weeks pregnant, attempting to contort her body around her bump to lace up her boots. Simon allowed himself a moment to watch in amusement before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention. “Do you need help?” he asked, about to kneel in front of her.

She grunted and shook her head, then tried to smooth the mussed-up fly-aways that had started to poke up at the edges of her tied-back hair. “No, I can do this. I just did it on Friday.”

“Darling, that was three days ago. There’s no shame in askin’ for help–” He stopped again at the icy glare thrown his way, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat in the armchair across from her. “A’right, if you insist.” He had long noticed that she sometimes struggled to accept help with tasks she could normally complete on her own, if not for a protruding bump being in the way. He knew if she really needed help, she would ask.

This time, she propped the heel of her boot on the coffee table and attempted to stretch over her belly. She was proud of the strength and flexibility she had been able to maintain throughout her entire pregnancy, up until now. Not many people could say they could even see their feet this far into their pregnancy, let alone tie their shoes. After another minute of huffing and puffing, fingers just barely unable to graze the laces, she held her foot out to her watchful husband and sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled, crossed arms mimicking his.

He smiled softly under his mask, blue eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he slid to his knees at her feet, pressing the sole into his chest. “Thank you,” he praised, taking his time to focus on doing her shoes up at the tightness she liked to support her ankles, but allow breathing room at her calves. As he finished up the second foot, he heard a quiet sniffle and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

Bloody hell, not the waterworks again…

He gently pushed her legs apart and settled between them, his gloved hands covering and rubbing her knees. “What’s wrong, love?”

Freyja wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then used the neckline of her t-shirt to swipe at her wet cheeks. “Nothing, I’m just annoyed. Feels like I can barely function on my own.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who insisted on working until she’s born.”

“Fuck you.”

“Promise?”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she scoffed. 

Ghost pulled his mask up to his nose, just enough to steal a long, soft kiss from her, fingers still gripping her thighs. When they broke apart, he swooped down to press wet kisses on her belly. Freyja put the fabric back in place with deft fingers. “A’right, we sorted?” He smacked her thigh twice when she nodded and offered her hands to help her stand. “Good, you know how I am about bein’ late.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be an early bird like her daddy.”

“Better than always being late like her mum.”

“Low blow, baby. Low blow.”

They made jabs at each other back and forth the entire ride to base (lovingly, of course) and during their walk to their offices, only pausing for the occasional passerby.

~*~

Kyle handed off a steaming mug of tea to Ghost, taking a small sip of his own as they watched the recruits spar with Soap. Most days, the three of them worked with the privates for a few hours, varying from marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, etcetera. Ghost tugged his mask up enough to enjoy his caffeine, the steam dampening the wrinkled fabric.

“How was your weekend, Ghost?”

He hid his subtle smirk behind the cup, the memory of their anniversary evening at the forefront of his mind. Ghost met Gaz’s gaze with a side eye, to which the Sergeant snorted with a throaty chuckle. Gaz fixed the brim of his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun better. “Shouldn’t have asked,” he said, a bright, cheeky grin on his face. “Change the subject.”

Ghost thought back to that morning, snickering himself and cradling the mug with both hands. “Frey couldn’t tie her boots this morning.” He tried to hide his amusement, he really did. But both men burst into deep laughter, Gaz shamefully covering his eyes with his free hand as he imagined the Captain working around her stomach.

“Bloody hell, poor thing.” When they finally composed themselves, Kyle took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He sighed and placed his now empty mug on the ground, his hands now hanging onto the lip of his tactical vest. The Brit observed the training session, occasionally glancing over at Ghost to gauge his mood. Maybe he should mind his business, but Gaz also wanted to be a good friend to the Rileys. In the end, he decided to take the plunge. “I see it, y’know,” he said, choosing a careful tone.

Simon turned his head fully to shoot him a probing look, urging him to continue.

Gaz sighed to himself. In too deep, now. “Just something I’ve noticed. Seems like she’s done this before, s’all.”

Damn Kyle Garrick and his perceptiveness. How long had the Sergeant been sitting on that thought, watching and observing her mannerisms? Simon stood staring blankly at his companion, unblinking for too long. His heart clenched painfully, twisting and beating violently against his ribs. When his eyes did finally come back into focus, he covered his face again. “As you were, Sergeant,” he commanded, his tone stern and unyielding. Neither of them noticed the Scot break away from the recruits, reading a text from his phone.

“I don’t mean to pry, sir–”

“Lt?” Soap held the device up, brows knotted together. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide his emotions and was concerned. “Price needs ya, sir. Said he’s pretty sure yer wife’s been in labor for the last hour.”

The trio quickly appeared in her office, where she sat behind her desk, beads of sweat on her forehead as she typed away at her computer. John shrugged helplessly and then scratched at the stubble under his chin. About an hour into their daily morning meeting, where he brought her peppermint tea while they worked over files and potential recruits. They were mid-discussing her scheduled c-section when he noticed her breaths sporadically shake, or the muscles in her arms tightening for seemingly no reason. Price asked her if she was okay and was brushed off every time he prodded at her; when he finally had enough, he decided to call for reinforcements.

Freyja glared at the men, mainly aiming it at Price. “Traitor,” she growled, continuing to work through another contraction.

Simon tossed the keys to their car to Price, who swiftly snagged them out of the air and slipped behind them. In the meantime, he tucked his mask into the back pocket of his jeans, his slightly overgrown blonde hair and the top of his head sticking up. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her as she attempted to ignore his presence. His foot slipped a little on the floor, and he found a small puddle trickling across the floor from the space under her chair. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked, impossibly soft and gentle for a usually deep, gruff military man.

“No.” She was an accomplished sniper and a skilled linguist and had been deployed on hundreds of special missions, interrogations, and rescues during her military tenure. She, however, wasn’t very convincing when it came to lying to her husband, especially when another sharp pain rippled through her body, forcing her to flinch.

“Wanna try that again?”

Her eyes watered uncontrollably, her lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together. The notion didn’t last long, and her head shook from side to side.

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“Hm.” Simon turned her chair with his shin until she faced him. As he suspected, dark wetness was creeping up the fabric of her jeans. “We should get going then, yeah?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as she grabbed his hand in a fierce grip.

“Simon–” The woman choked on her tears, panic starting to claw its way up her stomach and wrenching her tight throat. “The OB’s out of the country,” she whimpered, barely a whisper.

“I know. Seems that she’s taken after her old man, like y’said,” he offered in an attempt to give her some comedic relief in her state. Simon could see the panic attack set in, and while he knew he couldn’t stop it, he could at least lessen its effects some.

“I was kidding.”

He smiled softly at her and squeezed her palm, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. “Don’t think she’s quite old enough for sarcasm, there, sweetheart.” He got down to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, just under eye level now instead of towering over her. A familiar position for them as of late. “Looks like we’re doin’ this the old-fashioned way.”

She started crying hysterically now, nearly crushing his hand and cradling her belly. “Simon…I–”

“I know.”

It was as if their audience had completely disappeared, leaving just the two of them for what should be a private moment. But Soap and Gaz were still pressed to the wall by the door. In the months they had become close friends with Simon’s wife, she was almost always composed, her moments of hormonal rage the only outlier they witnessed. They’d never seen her such a panicked, blubbering mess, but Gaz had an idea he knew what it was about, even without specifics. For that reason, he chose to keep his distance and advised Soap to do the same with a tap to the shoulder.

“This–This isn’t the plan. I wanted…they’re supposed to take her out. I don’t want to push again.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to.”

“Can’t we just–” A gasp cut her off, her features pinching together in pain while she rode out yet another contraction.

“No. We can’t.”

“I can’t do this again, Simon! I can’t!” Her chest heaved and she sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. Panic attacks had become more frequent during her pregnancy. There had been about five or six instances where an odd feeling or uncomfortable pain had anxiety washing over her, sending her into a spiral until they could get to an emergency room or OB, snapping at them to ‘just fucking check, for fuck’s sake’. This was definitely one of the worst. All of her meticulous planning, down to every nitty-gritty detail to ensure she didn’t have an episode went right out the window because a certain impatient Riley was eager to make her exit and simultaneous entrance to the world.

The world was collapsing around her, dark and suffocating. The cold pit dragged her back to what seemed like another life, where she lay curled up in a hospital bed, sick and hot and in the worst agony she would ever experience. Her bones burned and ached, struggling to sit still yet unable to move at the same time. Price’s phantom touch ghosted up and down her bare back in that place, brushed her sticky hair off her forehead, pressed a cold towel to her neck as violent sobs and forced, unnatural contractions tore through her—

She blinked when different, gloved hands slipped under her hair, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the material as he cradled her face. Her fingers slipped down to dig into his tattooed wrist. “You can, and you will. Take a breath,” he took a deep breath, guiding her through the exercise. He held the air in his chest before letting it out in a slow exhale, which she mimicked. Ghost summoned Gaz over and rose, pulling her up with him. “Good girl. Can you walk?”

When she nodded, Kyle slipped into the space beside her, offering his forearm for support. She knew Simon could have handled her himself, but it warmed her heart to see him leaning on their friends. John had been a great support system when Simon deployed on his own, but having so many hands to hold made her feel loved and understood.

“A’right then, let’s have a baby, yeah?”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

#simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x sniper!reader #husband simon riley #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley x pregnant!reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw #cod mwii #fanfic #cod mw ghost #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #pregnant reader #angst #fluff #call of duty #task force 141/reader #ghost 👻 #ghost x y/n #modern warfare 2 #modern warefare reboot #ghost mwii

[lily-lovelyy]

Hello! Could you possibly write König and Ghost (separately) x a stoner reader who’s just faded 99% of the time? You can make it NSFW if you’d like! Please and thank uu! Have a nice day/night!!

Ahhh this is actually so cute to me!

(A/N sorry about not getting around to answering a lot of these this whole month has been very crazy for me but I am trying to answer them as soon as possible!!)

I'm going to do nsfw and sfw with both of these! And the reader is fem!

Simon "Ghost" Riley

SFW

- Simon smokes with you, his doctor prescribed him some for medical purposes, to help with his insomnia so he understands why you smoke!

- He thinks it's a fun way to bond with you, and you two have such deep conversations when you're both stoned as shit 💀

- Simon always orders pizza and takeout whenever you two start smoking, and he also has a snack drawer in your bedroom or near your smoke spot!

- speaking of smoke spot, at Simon's house he has a sun room he always drinks his tea or coffee in whenever he wakes up, or whenever he smokes, and he let you decorate the entire room however you wanted whenever he figured out how adamant you were about smoking!

- He is very caring with you whenever you're the only one smoking though, he coddles you and makes sure you're not paranoid or having a bad time! He's a sweetie.

NSFW

- It took a lot of convincing to do anything sexual with him while you're high, he just doesn't want something to happen without you being fully aware of it

- however, he absolutely loves it when you go down on him when you're stoned, apparently something about the weed makes your gag reflex disappear, and you can take him all the way down your throat

- whenever you're high, you also have a hard time understanding when he's sensitive or overstimulated, and you make him cum at least three times, and you leave him a mess.

- he's whining and moaning, gripping the sheets and stuttering pleas to stop, but he wants nothing more than you to keep overstimulating him

- you're also very good at aftercare with him, you let him share your blunt, and you both take a nice hot bath and after you cuddle in bed and watch your favorite show or movie while eating your delivery food

Konig

SFW

- Konig gets quite upset when he first finds out you smoke, but only because he never actually knew the benefits of it.

- all he knew was what his parents and teachers said about it, he thought you'd grow horns or get a mutation or something like that, but when you told him all the benefits, he was cool about it

- now Konig himself doesn't smoke, but he knows the signs of when you smoke, the smell, your demeanor and how clingy and sweet you are

- He also keeps snacks for you, in his backpack he has a designated pouch for chips and sweets when you get hungry, and an extra chilled water bottle in case you have a coughing fit!

- He also has an entire drawer dedicated to snacks for you, he has some comfy clothes for you in his dresser, some of your 'smoking gadgets' in his nightstand and whatever else you may need!

- you let Konig smoke once, and he coughed so hard you thought he was going to have a heart attack, so instead you bought some edibles for him to try, and he was into them, but only takes them when his anxiety is bad or when he's going to be around too many people.

(in my eyes, I don't think Konig could do anything sexual with you if you were high, but I will indulge your fantasies anyway 🙏🏻)

NSFW

- Konig is normally very rough with you during sex, because you do like it that way, but whenever you're stoned he's very gentle

- He doesn't go too hard unless you deliberately ask, and he definitely cums too fast, only because you're very...open when you're under the influence

- you admit to him how hot and sweet he is, and how his arms are just so veiny and big, and his eyes practically roll back into his head at the obscene squelching and moans that leave your lips

- you're not very vocal normally during sex, but when you're high, he's sure only porn actresses make the noises you make.

- Konig is an aftercare god, running you a bath and cooing to you how well you've done, and for the sake of it, hits a blunt once because he knows how badly you like to share with him.

#call of duty mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #könig x reader #konig fanfiction #könig #könig cod #könig smut #konig smut #konig cod #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x könig x reader #könig mw2

[shotmrmiller]

hear me @seigwaidau

thinking of a knight!simon who's a part of the 141 Knights, the warrior elite of the holy roman empire. They were sent out with the rest of the infantry in only the toughest of battles, as they were very expensive to pay.

If Simon's heavy armour didn't give him away in the field, his specially bred horse in full bard did— glinting under the sweltering sun. Simon was particularly ruthless, though. He only let his sword do the talking, never his tongue.

He was a monster on the battlefield.

But Simon didn't spend all of his time fighting. He lived with the 141 Knights in a manor that was located in a more rural area.

'Knights too hear the sheep bleating.'

He had to pitch in, often having both feet firmly planted in muck, eventually having to wash it off at a bath house.

This is where you come in. Simon only went to the public bathhouse you worked in. The others make fun of him, that he should just stow you on the back of his horse and run away.

He shamelessly tells them that he's thought of that way too many times to count.

Simon is enthralled by you, the cute little bathmaid who didn't flinch away from him when you laid eyes on his bare, war-torn flesh. He knew his body was unsightly— tiny knicks of daggers, ugly puncture wounds from arrows, and thick, raised welts from sharp swords.

No, you— who had never even seen a knight before— helped lather him with soap with your bare hands. You shaved his growing beard, and even gave him a haircut, all while making light conversation with him.

You had been completely unafraid, and that's what had him only coming back to you.

The sweet bathmaid that he hopes to make his wife.

Until one day, he came looking for you, and you had been hurt. Crusted split lip, bloody broken nose, swollen bruised cheekbone, and a puffy black eye. Simon softly asked you who did this, and through pained whimpers, you told him what the man looked like.

Simon swore to come back for you and take you away from this wretched place for good.

Then he grabbed his metal sword and walked out of the bath house, on the hunt.

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.

this has been driving me insane all day and idk what i want in the endgame. i just want a big, terrifying man in armor who comes home to a cute, devoted housewife.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #medieval au

[multi-fxndom446]

Lullaby

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Warning: literally just so much fluff, you’re welcome. He is already unmasked here.

Summary: Simon loves when you sing to him.

Word count: 1.1K

This was requested by @offbrandmeowmix I hope I did you request justice🫶🏻

To say Simon was tired was an understatement. He was exhausted, sore and overall just felt like collapsing where he stood.

All he had on his mind as he unlocked the door to his apartment was his bed. All he wanted to do was fall onto it and go to sleep and he was certain there was nothing in the world that could deter him from doing exactly that.

He was so confident in that up until the moment he closed the door behind him. He rested against it for another moment trying to gain courage to move forward but then stopped all together when he heard it.

Your sweet voice drifting through the usually quiet apartment. His mind that was once made up on his bed was now set on seeing you.

From the sounds of it you were practicing a song on the piano he had. A piano he had bought solely so you would sing more in his apartment, so you could fill the silence that used to consume him.

Not that he would ever admit it.

He walked up behind you as quietly as possible to not startle you, lest you stop playing. He underestimated every time how lost you got while singing and you didn’t hear a thing.

He watched you as you played through the song, eyes closed as you swayed in your seat softly. His eyes glanced over the little piano that wasn’t at all what you deserved.

One day, he’d buy you a grand piano. He’d put it in the living room of the house the both of you would live in. He could imagine it now, your voice floating through the house while your future kids watched in astonishment.

He watched you in utter adoration, any pain or soreness he had been feeling was long gone the longer he gazed at you.

Now it was his turn to get so lost in your singing that he didn’t notice when you turned to him. He only realized when he heard you gasp and bring a hand to your heart.

“Simon!” You let out a deep breathe. “When did you get home I wasn’t expecting you-?”

The moment your eyes connected with his he dropped his bag and kneeled to the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist as his head fell to your lap and his body immediately relaxed into you.

Your hands quickly came up to run through his hair and he let out a sigh of content. “Rough day?” You asked him softly but he only hummed in response.

His eyes closed while he listened to you hum softly. Something you did often. He learned very quickly that there was hardly ever a moment that you were quiet, you were always singing or humming in some way.

At first he thought it was a bit much. He’d come home and depending on your mood you could either be singing softly to yourself or sometimes he’d be greeted by you singing to him while you ran to him to wrap your arms around him.

He used to think he’d grow sick of it and at first looked forward to the days you’d go home but it immediately changed when he’d come home to cold dark silence.

He thrived on the days when he’d come home and you’d surprise him by being there, the lights on as you continued on with whatever you had been doing. It always lifted a weight off him when he heard you.

“Why don’t we go lay down?” You asked him softly, nails still scratching his head just right. He grunted in disapproval. “Come on, I know this isn’t comfortable for you.”

“I’m comfortable wherever you are.” He muttered against you and you laughed. The sound alone enough to lull him to sleep. He would spend the rest of his days making you laugh, just to hear the sweet sound everyday.

When you noticed the way his breathe started to grow shallower as he fell asleep you nudged him. As much as you hated waking him up, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate the crick in his neck when he woke up next.

“Alright, c’mon big guy.” You tried with all your strength to pull him to his feet but he was very good at dragging you down with him. “Simon.” You laughed and he let out a reluctant sigh before standing to his feet and letting you drag him to the bedroom.

“Long mission.” He grumbled to you while you pulled off his shirt and let him crawl into bed. You joined him quickly and pulled the blanket closer while he maneuvered so he was laying between your legs, his head on your stomach while his arms wrapped themselves back around your waist. “Sing to me?”

You smiled, fingers carding through his hair again. He never asked for you to sing to him so you knew he must be tired.

The comforting silence was drowned out by your soft voice singing a lullaby. Instantly he felt the tendrils of sleep wrapping around him like a warm hug.

As silly as it was, the lullaby you were singing to him was ‘you are my sunshine.’ Something he may have felt embarrassed about had it not soothed him to sleep so easily.

He was sure if any of his friends saw the display, he’d never hear the end of it but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when your hands were still playing with his hair softly and your voice filled his chest with a warmth he had never felt until he met you.

When you finished he took in a deep breathe and asked a question that had been on his mind the moment he realized he hated coming home to an empty apartment.

“Move in with me?” Your fingers stopped and he tightened his hold just a little in anticipation. He wondered if he should take it back say he was kidding, tell you to forget about it. He almost did but then your fingers started up again.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his head.

Simon never thought he’d like to be greeted by someone singing to him but he could not picture the rest of his life any other way.

More specifically, he could not picture his life without you singing to him.

~~

Short and sweet I hope yall enjoyed:)

#call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost x reader

[tf-lover]

Commission - Undercover Truths

Interested in commissioning me? Check out this post for more information on rules and pricing.

Detective Patrick Walters had been in the game a long time. Having just hit 40, he was still in very good shape compared to a lot of guys his age. By this point he’d watched many formerly athletic colleagues in their youth grow lazy and spend more time behind a desk than in the gym, but not Patrick. He was still in the gym five days a week, working out to keep himself in top shape. He prided himself on it. Sure, most of the time you didn’t get dramatic chases like the movies showed, but there were occasions over the years where his athletic prowess had mattered. And besides, it wasn’t for the job. He stayed fit because he liked how it felt, even now into his 40’s he worked hard to keep his appearance as good as it could be for himself and the ladies he hooked up with.

As a seasoned detective who’d worked his way right up the chain from a new member of the force at 18, Partick knew what he was doing when it came to the job. Living in a big city there were always new cases being dropped on his desk. From murders to drug crime at the extreme end, there wasn’t much he didn’t know how to handle at this point in his life. 

This new case though, this one had been tough. Gang activity, but none of his usual sources had been at all useful, and any evidence he’d gathered so far was circumstantial at best. He’d been on the case long enough to know some shady stuff was going on; everything from drugs to disappearances had crossed his desk; but there was never enough hard evidence to back up his instinct that all the cold cases over the last few months were connected. He knew they were though. He could feel it in his bones, as nonsense of a notion as that was. 

So, as he saw it, Patrick only had one option left. 

“Absolutely not.” The precinct’s chief, a man Patrick had been friends with a long time named Simon, said when he put forward his idea. “Out of the question Detective, I’m sorry. I can’t authorise an undercover mission to investigate a hunch, as much as I agree these cold cases are odd and need a solution, we’ve got no proof the downtown gangs are responsible. Sending you in without a strong reason or proof of their involvement just isn’t something I can authorise.” Simon had an apologetic look on his face as he sat back in his desk chair. “I’m sorry Patrick, really. I wish I could help, but I just can’t authorise an op like this and you know it. Maybe taking some time off would help clear your head of all this? You barely ever use your vacation time, that I could quite easily approve.”

A small smile spread over Patrick’s face. “You’re right Sir, maybe I should use up some of those vacation days.” He turned to leave the office, but paused when he got to the door and glanced back at the chief. “Thank you Simon, really.”

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for Pat, I’m just approving some vacation time is all.” Simon didn’t give any hint of anything showing through, but Patrick didn’t need him to. “Now get out of here, you’ve got some vacation time to enjoy.”

Patrick nodded and headed out of the office. He was lucky he’d known the chief as long as he had, he’d have missed the hint at an off books snoop around if not. Simon couldn’t approve a full on investigation, but if Patrick could come to him with enough evidence, officially or unofficially obtained, to link one of the downtown gangs then maybe he could launch something. He’d have to be careful though, since he knew there was no protection if he was caught; Simon would have to deny all knowledge and claim he went rogue. 

All he had to do now was finish off some paperwork then he’d be ready to head off for his ‘vacation’. One that, little did he know, was going to be far more life changing than he was expecting…

~~~

It’d taken a couple of days and a lot of phone calls, but eventually Patrick had found an in. He’d hung around the right places and managed to run into a former member of the largest gang in the city, one who let just enough information slip when Patrick had pretended to be someone the guy knew from the gang years ago. Act in the right way and you could get people to think you knew them from a long time ago, a skill Patrick had become fairly good at over the years.

Armed with the knowledge he needed, Patrick made his way to the warehouse district of the city after that conversation. He’d long suspected there was gang activity around these parts, but had never had enough specifics. Now was different though, as now he knew the rough area to check. There were only a few unused warehouses in the southern part of the district below the river, so one of those had to be the one he was looking for. 

The first one was a bust. Picked the lock and slipped inside, only to find stacks of rotting cardboard boxes, filled with products from a toy company he knew had gone out of business several years ago. 

The second of the three ws now in use he’d discovered. When he’d walked up there were a few workers loading furniture into the back of a van, and a quick conversation after pretending to be lost had revealed this definitely wasn’t the place he was looking for. 

All he had left was the third one he knew was abandoned. 

When he got there he was glad to see no signs of life like the second one. No signs of anything when he walked in, not even boxes stacked up like the first. He still had a good look around though, just to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. And he was lucky he did, as in one of the back corners was a hatch that had to lead down to a basement. As he descended the ladder down he could see a soft glow of some type of light and the sound of a voice, which meant he had to be in the right place. 

A few seconds later he stepped back onto solid ground to find himself in a short corridor with sets of doors along each side and one at the end. It was this end one that piqued his curiosity, as this one unlike the others was slightly ajar and was the source of the sound and pale glow. 

Partick stepped closer quietly and carefully, not wanting to alert anyone that might be inside. The closer he got though, the more he realised it wasn’t a conversation he could hear and wasn’t a light on he could see. It was the same voice saying the same words on a loop of several minutes, which meant the light was probably a TV playing a video on a loop. Why there would be something like that down in the basement of an abandoned warehouse he had no idea, but it was definitely suspicious enough to lead him to believe he was in the right place. 

Once he got to the door at the end of the corridor, Patrick hovered outside for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear anyone moving around. When he was sure he pushed his way into the room, gun held low and ready to fire if it came to it. As he suspected though, there wasn’t a soul in sight; only him, the TV as he’d guessed, and the rest of the small room. A table with clothes and a half used pack of cigarettes on, a shower in one corner, and the TV in the centre of the room with a chair in front. It was an odd set up to say the least, and not what Patrick had been hoping to find. 

“This is… What even is all this for?” Patrick mumbled to himself as he walked around. The most confusing part of it all was the fine layer of dust on everything, a sign no one had been here or touched this stuff in some time. “No one’s been here, so why is the TV on? I can’t have been left on for the same amount of time as this other stuff hasn’t been touched.”

With nothing particularly interesting laying around the room, Patrick turned to the TV. He’d largely ignored it until now, but with no other signs of a clue it was the only thing left. It was clearly pretty old, not one of the more modern flat screens by any means. It wasn’t playing anything in particular though, all he could see was a blank white screen that occasionally flickered to black when whatever was playing looped to the beginning. 

Welcome back home Lance, you’ve been gone a while.

The words the voice spoke struck some kind of chord within Patrick’s mind. He wasn’t this Lance guy, but somehow he knew instinctively he was the one being spoken to by the deep voice. A pause later as Patrick moved around to the front of the TV and the voice spoke again. 

Not saying anything? Figures. At least take a seat why don’t you?

Patrick sat down in the ratty chair without thinking about it. Not until he’d got comfortable anyway did he realise he’d just listened to what the voice said. It was like it was talking to him, but that wasn’t possible. Was it? 

“Who are you? What is this place?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him despite the logical part of his brain knowing he’d heard all this before in the background as he’d looked around the room. “Can you hear-”

We’re not having a conversation, I just know you well enough to know what you’re going to ask whilst you’re like this. I’m your everything Lance, I’ve missed you.

Missed him? How could this voice have missed him when he didn’t even know who it belonged to? Despite that, there was still a shiver of satisfaction as whoever this man was said that; Patrick was suddenly feeling like he had missed the man behind the voice too. It made no sense, but he couldn’t deny the feeling was there now out of nowhere. 

It sent a jolt of panic running down his spine and Patrick fought the urge to stay sitting in the chair like he’d been told. He wanted to run, get out of here and all the strangeness of this small, dark room whilst he still could, but something deep in his core kept him locked in place.

You’re probably panicking right now. Have a cigarette Lance, that always helps you calm down.

Patrick’s eyes flicked over to the pack on the table. There was a lighter there too he realised, all ready for him to grab and light up. Patrick had never smoked in his life, not even a slight puff on one as a teenager. He hated the things, could never see how someone would want to destroy their body like that. 

He was reaching over to swipe them up before he knew what he was doing. Slid one out of the pack, balanced it between his lips, then flicked the lighter with a practised ease and set the cigarette burning. Two fingers around the end by his lips to keep it steady, then one deep inhale later he felt that sweet, familiar rush of nicotine and a calm wash over him. Lance blew the smoke out slowly as he pulled the cigarette from his lips, letting out a content sigh as he did. He’d missed that feeling. 

Patrick blinked down at the cigarette in his hand as he was about to raise it back to his lips. What had he just done? For a moment he’d lost himself completely. No coughing after what he knew was his first time smoking; the ease with which he pulled one out a lit up wasn’t one he possessed; he definitely wasn’t familiar with the calming high he got afterwards. It wasn’t possible for him to be missing a feeling he’d never felt before, and he absolutely did not know where the momentary comfort with being this ‘Lance’ dude had come from. 

Again.

On reflex, Partick slotted the cigarette back between his lips and took another long, heavenly drag from it. Smoke filled him up, swirling around as he held it inside for a moment to enjoy the sensation before he let it back out in a lengthy blow. 

Comfort. Home. Relaxed. All those feelings swirled around with the smoke as he took drag after drag from the cigarette between Lance’s lips. 

Confusion. Panic. Fear. All those feelings left Patrick as he blew out the smoke each time. 

There wasn’t anything to worry about here, the cigarette had reminded him. He belonged here, this wasn’t some break in, he was just coming home. Each inhale of smoke he calmed down as the previously unknown itch for nicotine was scratched, each exhale Patrick felt more comfortable and at ease letting this voice call him Lance. It felt right, more right than Patrick felt as his name in the current moment. 

Once you’ve finished that off Lance you should get changed. Have a shower to wash off all that hair dye and makeup covering your tattoos, then your usual gym clothes are all there just as you left them. 

Lance looked over at the shower in the corner of the room. He could do with a shower after the long day, even if he didn’t quite know what else the voice was talking about. He ran a hand through his grey hair as he stood up and kicked his shoes off. It’d been brown once upon a time, but he’d never cared enough to dye it as he grew older. He’d never liked the way tattoos looked either, so why the voice thought he’d need to wear makeup to cover something he didn’t have was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he still switched the shower on then stripped quickly and stepped under the warm spray. It felt almost as good as the cigarette had, so much so he unconsciously turned the heat up higher than he’d usually tolerate. There was something about the almost scalding hot water as it rolled down his neck from his head, over his shoulders and down his torso, something that just felt right. There was a cloth and bottle he could only assume was shower gel, so he squeezed a generous amount into his hands and started rubbing it into his skin. Under his arms, over his crotch and between his ass cheeks, then up and over his shoulders and back into his hair, barely an inch of him was spared.

Once he was properly soaped up, Lance turned a little to place himself back directly under the spray and went to work washing it all off again. He barely noticed the grey colour that came with the suds in his hair, or the pinkish tint that sloughed off as he rubbed at his skin. Dark lines appeared the more he rubbed and cleaned, revealing dark tattoos and tanned skin all over his body, just as the voice had claimed. As he washed his hair he watched as some of it fell out and washed away down the drain, leaving it now cropped perfectly short to his scalp.

“When did I…?” Lance hesitated for a second as he stared at his inked flesh when the last of the shower gel had washed off. He didn’t remember getting tattoos… or did he? “Huh, yeah. That’s… that’s my ink. Missed seeing that on this job, maybe I’ll get more to celebrate being finished at last.”

“You did a great job getting into the police so deep Lance, I’m proud of you. Undercover work isn’t easy, but you’re done now.”

Lance smiled to himself as he stepped out of the shower and dried off. It was all coming back to him now. He wasn’t a cop or a detective, he was only pretending to be for the gang to throw off some of the stuff they’d been doing. He wasn’t this perfect Patrick Walters guy, that was just an alias they’d created for him. The memories of that life, growing up into some old guy like that, none of it was real. It was a backstory they’d planned out together. Even now he barely noticed as the memories slipped away, just the important details Lance had to memorise for the job sticking around. 

The location the voice was coming from had shifted too, but Lance was too preoccupied with drying himself off and grabbing his clothes to notice. It was clearer and closer to the door instead of sounding like it came from the TV in the centre of the room, not that it made a difference as Lance pulled on his favourite jockstrap and shorts. A tank top that showed off his muscles and tattoos followed, along with the necklace, backwards cap and earrings he always wore. 

He felt comfortable again now he’d dropped out of the disguise and got back to himself. How the stupid pigs had ever believed some shitty hair dye and makeup he hadn’t a clue, it wasn’t exactly a believable disguise. That and somehow passing for a man who just turned 40 when Lance himself had turned 28 only a few months before the beginning of this undercover stuff; the cops were really all as stupid as he thought they were. 

“How’re you feeling babe? Better to be back?”

The voice that was very clearly from inside the room startled Lance for a second before he looked up to see his boyfriend, who was also the leader of the gang he was part of, stood at the door. He had his arms folded over his chest and his signature smirk on his face, one that always got Lance’s cock throbbing.

“You know I am Raf. Been dying to be back in your arms for months.” Lance said as he strolled across the room. When he got close enough he untangled Raf’s crossed arms and pressed himself up against his lover, their muscled bodies snug together. “You got no idea how much I’ve missed you and myself, pulling off the straight older cop shtick was torture.”

Raf rubbed a hand over Lance’s shaved hair then let them slide down and settle around his waist. “I bet it was, but you’re back to normal now eh? Can get the hell outta here and get shit moving on the next phase. Now you’ve thrown them off us we can expand and take over the smaller gangs, become the big underground name around here. We’re gonna own this city thanks to you babe.”

Raf leaned in and kissed him then. Lance happily kissed back, letting his lover's beard scratch against his jaw as their lips slid together. It was more heavenly than the cigarette, which was something considering how much he smoked in one day. Not smoking or being with Raf had been the worst torture of his life, but it was all over now. He had his boyfriend back kissing him, his life back, everything. 

A few moments later the kiss ended and Raf slid out of his arms. He still held Lance’s hand tight as he pulled him out of the small room and pushed him back towards the ladder upwards, then let go so his lover could move. “You go on up Lance. I’m just gonna clear this place out, then I’ll come meet you up there and we can leave yeah?”

Lance nodded and grabbed hold of the ladder. “Sure thing Raf, I’ll see your sexy ass in the car for some hot sex yeah?”

Raf nodded and smirked again. “You bet your ass I will. It’s been long enough, I’ve missed the way you suck dick.” He watched Lance blush as the other man climbed the ladder out of the small basement, leaving Raf alone down there. He switched the TV off, grabbed up the clothes his boyfriend had taken off to get in the shower earlier, then walked back to the door. “Well Patrick, that sure went off without a hitch, didn’t it?” He said to the empty room before he locked it and headed off to catch up with Lance. 

Raf had a lot of fucking to do so he could make up for lost time, though whether that time was a few months or a lifetime was anyone’s guess…

#racial transformation #mental changes #male transformation #my writing #tf commissions #age regression

[kkvqwrites]

You Flinched | 141 Headcannons

Don't mind me, just some 141 boys reacting to finding out reader has a history of abuse or DV. We all know that our boys would never harm a loved one, but I began thinking about them responding to their loved one being triggered. Because trauma isn't rational.

CW: DV mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen), trauma

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,833

A/N: Yes this is self-indulgent because I have my own history and use my comfort characters to help. So I hope it can help someone else in the same way it helps me. Also forgive me, I threw it together on a whim and didn't really edit it.

Simon "GHOST" Riley

Simon is usually very careful with how he presents. He knows he's big, he knows he's intimidating, and most of all he knows what it's like to be vulnerable and scared of someone bigger than you. He knows when to use his voice/stature to his advantage (like on the battlefield) vs when to tone it down (like in private). He never wants to be scary to those he loves, ever. In fact, he wants his loved ones to have the opposite experience from what he had growing up.

That said, we all have our moments. It was, you both could admit, a silly argument over what ended up amounting to a non-issue. He was fresh back from the field and sleep-deprived and you had had a long shitty day and so a small disagreement became an argument. Somewhere in the bickering Simon decided he was over it. He stood, crumpling the paper he was holding into a fist and raising his voice, which he almost never did.

The combination of the fist and the yelling was what did it. He stood up so tall, so fast, and suddenly you were eight again, hiding in the cupboards and terrified to make a sound. Not knowing what would happen if you were found, but knowing for certain it wouldn't be good. When your parents went into their rages, there was nothing to do but hide and wait it out. As if reciting a dance you knew by heart, you shrank back, hands coming up defensively.

Simon noticed instantly, despite your best attempts to play it off. He knew all too well the look of a terrorized inner child and recognized it immediately in your pale face and shrinking posture. It broke his heart; he immediately regretted lashing out as it was, but this was even worse.

He'd step back, giving you space. He'd ask permission before approaching you and before hugging you, and once you gave it you'd be wrapped in an embrace that was both tender and hard as steel. He'd hold you for a long time, not saying anything. If you cracked and it all came spilling out, he'd listen intently. If you didn't want to talk about it, he'd respect it and not breathe a word about it until you were ready. You could feel in his heartbeat his need to make you feel safe warring with his desire to find whoever made you afraid and teach them a lesson about fear.

Simon is a man of actions, not words, and he's never been a fan of "sorry" and instead prefers follow-through. Now, though, the word poured from his lips. Wrapping your arms around him in return, you forgave him wordlessly.

The next free time you both had, he'd surprise you by taking you to a shooting range. Another weekend, he'd teach you basic knife skills and how to throw a decent punch. If questioned, he'd say it was something he'd been meaning to do for a while with a dismissive shrug. But you had a hunch, even if he couldn't or wouldn't verbalize it, that he was sharing with you the ways he'd learned to overcome feeling powerless when he was younger. By learning to defend and fight back, you could take your agency back and walk into the world unafraid. It didn't matter that he'd grind anyone who bothered you into dust, because it was about you and making you feel empowered. Simon wasn't one to give you bouquets of flowers and poems, but he could give you this. And, slowly but surely, it started to work.

John "SOAP" Mactavish

You and Johnny were out with some mutual friends at the pub one night, drinking and having fun. Your boisterous Scotsman was ever the social butterfly, and he never failed to bring the party wherever he went.

You and a friend were laughing at something on your phone, and when you handed it Johnny to show him, you froze as your eyes saw an unmistakable silhouette over his shoulder. You recovered quickly, sure that it was a mistake, but not quickly enough. Johnny's face went serious as he studied your expression, which was suddenly tense.

You'd play it off, not wanting to ruin the good vibe. You'd even double check to reassure yourself that it wasn't him, but your stomach would sink once you looked back. In a corner of the bar, nursing a glass of dark liquor, was your ex. He noticed you at the same time, and the eye contact made you feel sick.

At this, Johnny would take a look for himself, and would pick out the man eyeing you from across the bar right away. After giving the man a once-over, he'd turn back to you.

"Is that who I think it is?" You'd nod. You had told him bits and pieces of how your ex treated you, but left out the worst of it lest Johnny go on a rampage to defend your honor. He's loyal to a fault and would not take kindly to anyone mistreating people he cared about.

The unfortunate thing was, being special forces came with an ability to read people and situations, and your reaction to seeing your ex filled in the gaps well enough for Johnny to understand what wasn't being said. You were scared, and the man seemed to know it by the smug expression he wore as he stared at you.

Rather than cause a scene, as you had feared, Johnny scooted so he completely blocked your view of the other man (and the man's view of you via his broad shoulders). Seamlessly, he'd continue the conversation with the folks around you as if nothing was amiss, despite his hand never leaving your thigh in a move that was at once possessive and reassuring. You leaned into the touch, comforted by Johnny's presence and relieved that the situation had seemingly blown over.

A bit later, Johnny announced he was going to the bar to get another round for the table. On instinct, your gaze shot to where your ex had been sitting, but his seat was now empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, your eyes turned to follow Johnny through the room. You could never get tired of looking at him. It wasn't until he reached the bar and clapped a fellow patron on the shoulder that you realized the individual he was talking to wasn't the bartender, but your ex who had moved seats. Keeping his hand on the man's shoulder, Johnny struck up a conversation like a true natural.

Oh no.

You braced for a commotion, but Johnny's expression and body language stayed friendly and open. You couldn't hear what he was saying to the man, and if asked he'd tell you he was just introducing himself. But when he let go of your ex's shoulder and flagged down the bartender to order a drink, the other man threw some money onto the bar and all but ran out the door.

The place would become a frequent haunt for your friend group, but you'd never see your ex darken the doorstep again after Johnny's talk with him. Good riddance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You and Kyle had been going steady for a bit now, and you were excited to introduce him to your family. Well, most of your family. You didn't have a good relationship with your stepdad, and Kyle respected that it was a sore spot for you. He would never pry, but he could pick up on how your tone would change when your stepdad would come up in conversation, how your posture would change when your mom dragged him into the frame to say hello during your video chats.

A big family dinner was the perfect opportunity to introduce everyone to Kyle, and you were looking forward to it. Truly. You had a nice outfit picked out and Kyle bought some fancy wine to bring, hoping for a good first impression. He needn't have worried; your aunts and cousins all fawned over him, and your uncles were endlessly impressed by his stories from his job. Long story short, he was a hit.

He stayed by you all night, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as he made conversation. At first, you chalked it up to being the new guy in the room, but the ease of his posture suggested he wasn't nervous. Rather, his frequent check-ins started to make it feel like his closeness was for your benefit. You were the one who was nervous, looking over your shoulder every few minutes praying you didn't see a certain face in the crowd. You loved your family, but get-togethers always came with a certain amount of anxiety. Every time your eyes strayed around the room, Kyle's followed, taking in the crowd. Even more frequently, you caught him sneaking glances at you, as if assessing if you were alright.

You were alright, until the front door opened and you heard a specific voice boom in greeting. Your mom and stepdad strode in, late as always, your mom carrying the casserole dish and your stepdad slapping a case of beer on the counter. Your demeanor changed immediately, shrinking yourself as if you could become invisible if you just hunched enough. It didn't work, of course, and they spotted you within seconds. Before you could react, Kyle was in front of you, placing himself between you and your parents with a smile and his hand out to shake.

"I'm Kyle, heard lots about you," he said neutrally, shaking hands with both of them. They turned to you, but Kyle spoke again. "How was the drive? Heard you had to come across that new expressway, have they finished that yet?"

It was like that the rest of the evening. Kyle remained an immovable barrier between you and your stepdad, keeping him engaged in conversation and unable to address you. You and your mom were able to slip away shortly to help set the table and catch up, and every time you snuck a glance at the men out of the corner of your eye, the view was the same: Kyle orienting himself as a physical wall, keeping you out of eyeshot. His body language was at-ease, his smile friendly enough, but his eyes were tight, not like they had been when talking with everyone else.

When everyone grabbed a seat, Kyle pulled a chair out for you before quickly stealing the spot next to you from your stepdad. You looked at him with gratitude and he squeezed your knee reassuringly under the table, all the while maintaining conversations with those around him as if nothing was amiss. If you hadn't already loved him, you certainly would have after that night.

Captain John Price

Ah, spring cleaning.

Well, it was November, but still. It's refreshing to get rid of old stuff and start anew, but it's also essential when you're combining two households. John had finally convinced you to move in with him, so the two of you were creating piles labeled "Keep" "Trash" and "Donate". Upon reaching the bottom of an old box labelled "Miscellaneous," you came upon something that had your stomach churning. Old records: Johnny Cash, the Sex Pistols, the Doors. You hadn't realized you had them, and you weren't particularly fond of who they belonged to.

You didn't realize you had frozen in place until John snapped you out of it, coming up behind you with a hand snaking around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Whatcha got, love?" He whistled when you showed him.

"The condition those are in, you could get a pretty penny. I didn't know you collected vinyl, I'd have bought a player."

"They're not... mine." You explained, as briefly as possible, that they were your ex's and must have gotten mixed up in your stuff when you split several years ago. He hummed in understanding.

"Right, then. To the garbage with it?"

It was the logical solution. He hadn't asked after them, so he must not miss them that badly. You would rather lie down in traffic than have any contact with him. But John's comment about their value stopped you from throwing them onto the "Trash" pile. Damn your too-kind heart, always causing problems.

It was easy enough to find your ex's contact info; you had changed your number after the split, he hadn't. Soon enough, you had agreed on a time for him to swing by and grab the stuff when he was free. The rest of moving made the days go by in a blur of organizing and unpacking and bickering over where the toaster should go and which wall to mount the TV on. That is, until you looked at your calendar and realized that it was today. This afternoon was the interaction you'd spent the week trying not to think about. You'd stepped around the box of his things all week, mentally blocking out why it was sitting in the front hall. You'd managed to stay busy, and bury your anxiety in the endless tasks that come with setting up a new home.

But time had run out, and in mere hours you were going to be face to face with someone you had once sworn never to see again. The realization made the room feel too small, made the air feel too warm, made you feel like you were suffocating. Suddenly you just had to get out.

"We need... yogurt." You blurted, walking too quickly and too loudly into the foyer to grab your keys.

"Yogurt? Right now?" John called from the kitchen.

"Yes, right now! For... for a recipe," you mustered, hoping you sounded convincing. This had been a mistake, a huge mistake, and your brain was screaming RUN! RUN! RUN! as loudly as it could. Hand on the doorknob, however, you froze. If you left, John would be here when your ex arrived. He'd answer the door, introduce himself, and hand off the items. Shouldn't that be ideal? No contact between you and him, simple and easy. But rather than provide relief, the thought made you sick to your stomach. It felt like a defiling almost, to think of him entering your new sanctuary and meeting the love you thought you'd never have. It felt wrong on every level, and your feet rooted to the spot in agreement.

"Still here, love?" John came into view, the book he'd been reading in hand, finger acting as a bookmark. "I was thinking, I could go if you wanted. Just text me what we need. Don't you have someone coming by?"

Yes - that's it, you thought. Have John go, get him away from here before he could arrive. You'd handle it on your own; you'd done it before.

Nodding, you stepped aside, slipping your shoes off next to the door. John put his book down and approached, taking your place and grabbing his keys off the hook. He turned to kiss your forehead, but stopped short and stared at you. He noticed for the first time that you were fidgety, as if anxious for him to leave when usually it was the exact opposite. His ever-observant eyes spent several seconds taking you in, and you knew as he asked the question that he already knew the answer.

"Everything alright?"

Of course it was! How silly to think otherwise! You began playing it off, the same way you had gotten so good at doing back when you and he were still together and your friends would ask you the same thing. Just hyper, just busy, just this, just that, always an excuse to avoid saying "I'm afraid." Afraid of what mood he'd be in, afraid of what awaited you when you two would be alone later. Fear you hadn't felt in a long time, but could feel now just as bone-deep as it had been back then. As if your body had stored it as muscle memory just in case this day came.

"Are you nervous about something?" It was another question you could tell he already knew the answer to, and you wanted to feel irked about it, but looking into those eyes you suddenly just felt tired. Tired of carrying the fear and the uncertainty alone. So you exhaled for a long time, and slowly told him exactly what you were nervous about.

It felt good to get it off your chest. Until now, no one had ever known the extent of what had gone on. You expected John to explode into some fit of hyper-masculine protectiveness like guys on TV, but he didn't. He listened to you talk, and then he nodded and sat on the couch, reopening his book on his lap.

"What are you doing?" You eyed him suspiciously, unable to believe that that was the end of the conversation.

"Well, I'm waiting right here. And when this lad knocks, I'm going to answer the door and have a little chat with him."

#who would have thought I'd get wordy writing about Price #it's my older man kink #can you tell the writer juices flowed as I kept writing #mwii headcannons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #no use of y/n #ghost mwii #soap mwii #gaz mwii #price mwii