#heli drops

[l0v3tast3]

141 men finding out military!reader is only 19 after they break down from being overwhelmed and overworked??

✎ this idea bounces around my head a lot actually and now i have a reason to write it down finally :) i wasn't sure if you wanted them altogether or separately so i did it separately because it's easier lol. i kept it platonic and sfw!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, reader has a panic attack, descriptions of violence/injury/death, swearing, hurt to comfort, all platonic relationships, only half proofread

you're barging into the safehouse where he had said to rendezvous, gasping for air that your closed throat won't let through. the rifle held in your dominant hand is dropped as soon as the door is shut behind you, and you're clawing at the straps of your helmet and chest armor to get them off because it's too tight and it's too much and you can't breathe.

this wasn't your first mission. it wasn't even the bloodiest one you'd been on thus far. you could handle the gore and the death and the pure misery of the victims of these situations, because at the end of the day, you were helping them, right?

unless you were too late.

the family had been huddled in a corner, two children laying underneath their parents. there had still been two other rooms to check in the house, but you were running out on shaky legs.

he's in front of you now, looking down at you and asking if you're injured. you're sitting on the floor, heaving for breath and tears pouring from your glassy eyes.

"it's not- it's not fucking fair!" you cried out finally, trying desperately to wipe your face dry on your sleeves, but it only worked to redden your skin further. "why are these people doing this? how could someone be so cruel?"

he sighed softly, not knowing how to respond. the team didn't show emotions like this, they didn't deal with them, not like this. but they had all been here, where you are now. they had all asked why, again and again and again until the word lost all meaning.

"i mean, are we even really helping? god, these people are all already dead! why are we here? why- jesus fucking christ, why am i here?" you rambled; you weren't talking to him anymore. your voice was fizzling out, getting quiet enough that he had to lean closer to hear your unsteady words.

"i can't help these people," you sobbed. "i'm just a kid, i'm only nineteen, i can't- i don't know what i'm supposed to do! they said i was special! they told me- said i was so much better and smarter than everyone else, what a fucking joke!"

☆ simon "ghost" riley

he knew you were young, but fuck, if that didn't break his heart, there was nothing left that would. simon didn't talk to you more than any of the others on the team, but you were special, like a little sibling to the team, to him. always having enough energy and kindness to make up for the rest of them.

seeing you like this was a first, even for him, the man who had seen the worst of the worst. it wasn't like he was immune to emotions, but he had spent so long pressing them all down until he couldn't feel them that this was new to him again. all he could do was offer a hand on your knee that he hoped resembled something like comfort.

"we're almost done here. the heli will come for us soon," he said quietly. "you did good, like always."

he watched and waited with you while your sobs whittled away to sniffles, never moving his hand from your knee, where you had grabbed onto it with one of your own. most people knew not to touch him, that they'd end up with one less hand if they did, but you were an exception.

☆ john "soap" mactavish

at first, he doesn't do anything, just kneels in front of you and stares in shock. you're nineteen? you had always danced around the question that the team would tease you with, asking if you still had to work on your homework, but it was always a joke. now it wasn't.

instead of dwelling, john shifts and sits in front of you, almost hovering over you awkwardly as he tried to figure out what to do. sure, he was one of the more open people on the team, but when you're standing next to ghost, just smiling makes you look emotionally vulnerable.

he takes your hands away from your face and into his, placing them on your lap before gently holding your shoulders. "look, we're almost done here, alright? we'll be far away before you know it." that didn't help much, so he paused again.

the almost-distraught look on his face forced a giggle out of you. his worry turned to confusion, why are you laughing now? you probably shouldn't have been, but the big, scottish military-man fretting over you was kind of funny.

"alrigh', lass, at least something cheered ya up," he grumbled, but turned serious again right after. "higher-ups were right, ya know. you are smarter than the rest of 'em. maybe even smarter than us, yeah?" he said with a smile.

☆ kyle "gaz" garrick

it wasn't that long ago that kyle was where you are now, fresh out of school and eager to prove himself in the military. except it had taken him several years longer than you to reach where you both were now; he had had plenty of time to come to terms with the horrors he saw.

now he realized that you hadn't, because you were smart and you were better than most other people, so they had thrown you in, like a minnow in a piranha pond. by all means, you were doing wonderfully for your circumstances, but you could only keep going for so long.

he sat down beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and wrapped an arm around you to bring your head down to rest on him. he sat with you quietly, giving you the time you needed to just get it all out.

eventually, once you're more calm, he breaks the silence with bad jokes that he definitely stole from simon.

"why do twitter users make bad soldiers?" you lifted your head to stare at him incredulously before he continued, "because, they're too quick to retweet."

☆ john price

the captain knew how young you were. he never told you, but he hadn't wanted you on the team at first; the second he was handed your file and saw your birthdate, he started protesting. but it wasn't up to him this time. he couldn't spare you from this, and he knew that it would always weigh on him. he knew he would always remember this, you, crumbling in on yourself in a heap on the floor.

john came down on one knee in front of you and started telling you a story about when he had started, how one of his first missions had gone so terribly wrong. you honestly thought he was just going to tell you to "suck it up" until he told you about one family he had saved during that mission, one that was still alive today. they still sent him letters, even.

"all you need is one good save, kid. and you've got dozens already," he murmured. he wouldn't say it outright, but you really were one of his best.

you remembered the child clinging to your back as you ran out of a collapsing building, the woman who's leg you had managed to get unstuck from fallen debris, the man you had stopped from being executed just in time.

price smiled once he saw he had gotten through to you and helped, at least a little, and roughly patted your shoulder. "evac will be here soon, chin up now."

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #john price #john price x reader #gender neutral reader #angst #fluff #sfw #fanfiction #— lilly writes! ♡

[kateandthediamonds]

I am with you, I don't enjoy to see them travelling a lot by helicopter (because of the 'climate change' project), but at least W isn't saying left, right and centre that we should stop doing things (as travelling by plane) in order to save the planet. Yes, he has said we can do things that could stop the impact, but he isn't lecturing people.

Yes unlike someone🤭

#I feel like I’ve opened a Pandora box now #pls don’t send mean stuff about H I don’t like him but I don’t want haters on my blog #but yeah they should drop that heli ffs #anon #ask

[nocturnesmoon]

Safety Nets

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)

-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-

The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.

The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.

"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.

Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.

The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.

Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.

You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.

You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.

You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.

Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.

"This is your fault, you led us here."

There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.

It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."

You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.

"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.

You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.

It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.

He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.

Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and  Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.

He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.

This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.

"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.

The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.

They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.

Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.

Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.

The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.

By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.

Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.

He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.

He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.

He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.

"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.

It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.

"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.

Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.

You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.

Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.

Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.

He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.

The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.

Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.

You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.

Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.

Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.

"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.

You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.

"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.

As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.

Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.

It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.

"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.

"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.

Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."

Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.

You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.

You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.

The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."

You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.

Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.

"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.

When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.

"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.

Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.

The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.

"Hi"

"Hi"

His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.

"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.

The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.

He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.

"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.

You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.

"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.

Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."

When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.

You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.

You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.

Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.

"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."

Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.

"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."

The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.

"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."

"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.

"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.

"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."

You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.

"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.

"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.

You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."

They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated<3

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #simon riley x you #ghoap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #gender neutral reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #john soap mctavish x you #simon ghost riley x you #john soap mctavish x gn!reader #NoctMoon Fics #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

[gremlingottoosilly]

what would monster!könig do if wifey accidentally snuck onto a ship/followed könig onto the field. like maybe she wanted to surprise könig but somehow ended up on the field, and könig only realizes when they land

God, he knew you were stupid, but this stupid...Konig is actually feeling fear for the first time in forever - you're with him, on the field, even if you don't have eggs in you currently, you're still fragile and too weak to hold your own in `an operation he is conducting.

At first, he is trying to find whoever is guilty of you getting on a heli/plane with them, and which dumb idiot from his team didn't bother with checking the space before taking off. And when someone is found, they get the special privilege of babysitting the whiny colonel's toy because Konig would never actually allow them to step in the field. It's too dangerous for you...and he doesn't want to search for another toy because you're perfectly fine for him!

You are getting scolded before the op and right after, when Konig has returned. You were held securely under the gaze of a couple of recruits and the heli crew he was forced to leave at the pad because he can't just drop you alone, and now he had to fight for three of his soldiers...so yeah, you will have A LOT of stress to handle while he is taking it out on you. Poor thing, good luck with everything.

He hides his worry behind anger. He knows it's his fault, he probably didn't lock you in his quarters when you were so sleepy and nice in his bed(he wanted to hold you and took you away from your nest) so you just waddled behind him, all sleepy and dumb. He will never allow you outside again, double checking all locks, just so he won't experience the humiliation of being utterly terrified of you on the field, in the midst of danger because of his recklessness.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig

[riverbutghost]

Guilty Eyes

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting(definitely not getting)your lieutenant shot, you felt guilty and didn’t leave your room or interact with anyone. But eventually, it had to be stopped.

Warning: Mentions of wounds, burns, curses… again rushed

“No-“

Simon pushed you out of his way pretty harshly, not even considering it in the first place to be honest. You stumbled and fell down, shrieking at the sight of your lieutenant getting shot.

“Ghost!”

You shrieked again, quickly getting up and rushing towards him. He closed his eyes for a second before holding his vest.

“I-“

He cut you off, his eyes shot opened as he heard your voice. He took a breath in.

“Don’t Sergeant. We’ll talk about your fuckin’ stupid behavior later.”

You were dumbfounded at his comment. What did you do?

“Wha-“

He cut you off again, making your headache worse.

“I said don’t.”

You shut your mouth and looked down. Maybe it was your fault that he got shot, and he was angry? You weren’t sure.

“Soap, right here!”

You yelled at the sight of your friend, who seemed scared just like you for his lieutenant. You looked down at his wound, holding it tightly just in case.

“Please…”

You mumbled to the air. You were scared, he could’ve let you save him and maybe get shot in the arm? But no, he was Simon fucking Riley, a stubborn ghost.

“M’fine.”

He muttered angrily, his voice cold towards you. Soap came right next to you.

“Oh my heavens, LT!”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. If you were more persistent about saving him, he shouldn’t have been shot.

“M’sorry.”

You sniffled, and Simon’s eyes shot up to you.

“Don’t cry, m’fine.” His eyes softened, and his hand came right up to yours. He squeezed your hand and you shook.

“Heli is on the way.” Soap informed you two. You knew he would survive, but the guilt would never leave.

-

It had been a week since you last saw any of your teammates. You were in your room, constantly reading books or doing nothing at all. You would wake up earlier than them, eat anything you could find and work out. You would get a few snacks as dinner.

Today was the same.

You woke up around 5. You crept down to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, eating it while making your coffee. Putting your apple in the trash, you grabbed your hot Americano and turned around.

“Fuck!”

You shrieked as your hot coffee was met with a muscular chest. The person in front of you hissed, making you panic and put your mug down.

“Fuck- I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Fuck- I didn’t know-“

Your breath hitched as you made eye contact with Ghost. Your heart clenched. You closed your mouth and stared up at him.

He looked good. He looked healthy, almost like his usual self. But his eyes were heavy, with..sleep?

“Does it burn?”

You asked stupidly and he tilted his head. You just gulped and took his hand, guiding him out of the kitchen. Simon followed you like a lost puppy, eyes never leaving your hand on his.

As you were thinking about where to go, he took a quick left and slammed you into the wall. You gasped, heart pounding. It was like his mind switched off from being startled to angry.

“You didn’t visit.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground as his eyes were too much to handle. They were raging, but a little hurt was there too.

“I-“

You pursed your lips, looking up at him again.

“And wait, you tried taking the bullet? What the fuck were you thinking? You think it would be better? Fuck nah..”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, not daring to look at him in his eyes again.

“I’m sorry-“

He slammed his fist into the wall next to your head. You flinched, eyes closing in an instant.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie. If you were sorry, you could have come and visit me.”

Your eyes started watering after his last words, because of the hurt and betrayal he had experienced.

“Don’t fuckin’ cry now. Jesus fuck..”

You looked down, even if he was right he was hurting you.

“I- I felt guilty. I feel guilty.”

You admitted after seconds of silence, and broke down sobbing.

Simon stood there, trying to process what you had said.

“I-I tried to take the bullet! You pushed me, Simon. I’m sorry but yo-you-“

Another hiccup stopped your sentence, snapping Simon out of his mindset.

“Why didn’t you come?” He rolled down after you, and you sniffled.

“I told you!”

Simon just shook his head, all the thoughts that were made up left his mind.

He took your hands off of your face and pushed them aside. He cupped your chin, stroking it gently. You looked up at him with soft eyes.

“I’m sorry, I thought you didn’t care about me. Because I care about you. A lot, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, making Simon nervous about the thing he had said.

“I do. A lot, Simon. I’m sorry I should’ve came. Forgive me?”

Simon’s eyes softened a little, head tilted to the side as he got up and pulled you into his arms.

“I’ll forgive you, if you’ll forgive me.”

You chuckled a little, voice still hoarse.

“Okay,”

You smiled at him, throwing your arms around him as he started walking.

“Your coffee wasn’t hot, by the way.”

#call of duty #cod mwf2 #call of dooty #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #cod mw x reader

[2chijouu]

Thinking about post MW3 how ghost is coping with soap’s death by picking up the things he used to do,

Maybe he picks up drawing, buys himself a journal identical to soaps. It starts off shitty but he still does it anyways because soap would love each of his doodles- shitty or not,

Next he picks up coffee, everyone knows ghost hates coffee- despises it, the grimace on his face every time he takes a sip says it all but no one says a word about it,

One day, price finds him in his office sitting by his window, he’s asleep, price goes to wake him up but upon a closer look he sees that theres a worn out book in his lap, its soap’s favorite book.

They’re on a mission when things suddenly take a turn for the worst, theres an unidentified bomb and no one to defuse it, it was a simple recon mission, he’d been sent alone as usual, at first he finds the mission a little sketchy but stays at his post- however when he starts seeing cars rolling in, he reports back to price and goes in for a closer look even after price tells him not to.

After observing the cars from a distance, seeing them roll out immediately after delivering whatever packages they had to the seemingly empty warehouse, he waits a couple of minutes before moving in and checking around the perimeter , after deeming it clear he’s on comms with price telling him the situation, he can hear the hesitation in prices’ voice after giving him the go to check the supply that had been dropped off,

Shuffling through the boxes, he finds nothing but some wood work paraphernalia. Ghost lets out a deep exhale and raises his hand to his shoulder for his comm when his eye spots a box that he missed, when he opens the box and discovers its an active bomb with the timer running, he immediately informs price and springs into action,

Meanwhile price is informing laswell about the current situation and requesting an immediate exfil to which she denies and tells him he needs to disarm the bomb. He bristles with contempt at that and ends their call without any further delay,

Their intel had been lacking from the beginning, and he was not about to lose another member of his team- of his family, he is contacting nikolai when gaz comes into his office to inform him ghost is requesting him on the comms,

While price had been on his way to being discharged because of his impulsiveness and willingness to break multiple rules to get his man out of that situation, said man had simply told him that the bomb had been defused and that when can exfil arrive,

Astonished by the implication of that statement, he asked ghost how did he disarm it all by himself even though he didn’t have any demolition training, to which he was met with silence and then a quiet,

“with Johnny’s help..”

Price stood there with a stunned look on his face but quickly recovered and informed ghost that exfil is on its way.

When ghost lands back on base and exits the heli to see price and gaz waiting up for him, he walks up to them and says nothing, no one does for a bit until price lets out a deep sigh and puts his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze,

“Good job out there, son.”

Gaz gives him a small smile and they all walk back towards their respective barracks and offices.

Ghost, freshened up after a shower, goes to the rec room to get something warm to drink and sees gaz there by the kitchen counter making himself a cuppa, ghost joins him and they’re both making their drinks in silence when gaz breaks it,

“We miss him too, you know?”

Ghost freezes but quickly recovers and gives him an answering hum before moving to the small kitchen table and sits on the chair, gaz joins him with a plate of biscuits and they both sit in silence.

Then ghost speaks,

“Bastard always liked to run his mouth whenever he was defusing a bomb, i picked it up after he..”

He couldn’t continue without his voice shaking but gaz knew so he didn’t say anything further.

They’re all trying to fill in the hole that has been left by him in some way or another.

You can’t fill a bottomless hole.

#cod modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw3 #ghost cod #simon rliey #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #captain price #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #post mw3 #post cod mw3 #this got out of hand #angst #coping mechanism #idk where i went with this

[mockerycrow]

could we get some Gaz comfort, like after he’s fallen out the heli - I need to smooch him all over for that

SPARKS (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist — gaz photo origin

“i’ll always look out for you.” — 1.2k words

[WARNINGS; Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining.]

Kyle arrives home unexpectedly in the night; maybe around midnight and you’re still up, making yourself a late dinner. Your whole body tenses when you can hear the front door jiggle as if someone is trying to come inside, your heart skipping a beat. You weren’t expecting Kyle to be home anytime soon, he had only returned back to base for a deployment about a month ago—is someone trying to break in? Your chest tightens in fear as you wait a moment.

The door doesn’t open, but it jiggles again, so you jump into action. Your hands tremble as you turn the burner on to a low setting and you open the junk drawer, taking a sharp breath in as you scramble your hand around in the drawer. You grab the pocket knife Kyle started stashing in there—“You never know what could happen while I’m gone.” He insisted—and you close the junk drawer slowly.

You heard the front door finally open with a break and a low grunt, making your eyes widen as you crouch down as fast as you can and you can almost feel your heart drop down to your stomach with the same force. You can see into the kitchen from the front door. You let out a harsh breath in a panic as you crawl across the kitchen floor, moving behind this kitchen island. You press your back against the underside of it as you shakily press the button on the side of the knife, the blade snapping upwards as it’s an automatic pocket knife. You grip it with both of your hands, terrified as you hear whoever’s footsteps in your home. You try your best to calm your breathing—

“[Name]?” Kyle calls from the living room—it’s him. You let out a breath and you quickly crawl out from underneath the kitchen island, folding the knife back into its sheath. Your hands are still trembling as you stumble far enough into his view, and you shove the knife into your back pocket. “Kyle, you fucking scared me, what in the hell are you—“ You pause as you actually take a look at him and fuck. Kyle’s face is not happy. He’s standing in the middle of the living room—which is connected to the kitchen—he’s holding his duffel bag and his clothes are nice and neat; they don’t match his face. His eyebrows are drawn into each other, his lips curled into a frown. His smile lines are stretched and his eyes are a bit puffy. “Oh,” You say softly. “Kyle..”

You approach him, the anger from the surprise of coming home fading into worry. You quickly take his duffel bag from him with grunt—it’s heavy, what the fuck does he carry??—and you put it on the couch cushion before turning back to him. Your stomach tightens as you see tears brimming at his waterlines, his eyebrows tightening as if he’s trying to hold back the tears. You reach up and brush a finger over the top of a bandage on his cheek. Kyle’s eyes are avoiding yours and you see Adam's apple bob as he takes in a shaky breath. Your hand near his bandage completely cups his cheek whilst your other hand gently grabs his shoulder. “Hey,” You murmur. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Kyle surges forward and wraps his arms around you tightly under your arms, a powerful shudder running through his bones as his fingers grab at the back of your shirt. His face finds its way to the crook of your neck like it always does, a harsh sob leaving him. Your chest tightens with sadness for him and concern, and you wrap your arms around him in return, returning the tight grip he has on you. The possibilities of dragging a reaction of this caliber out of Kyle are few and narrow—your first thought is did someone die? Is that why he’s home?

You shake the thought away for now; it doesn’t matter why he’s home, it matters that you’re here for him, to support him through whatever happened. That’s what you promised him when you two brought up the idea of moving in together after his first enlistment; that you would look after him, and he would do the same for you in return. Kyle hasn’t disappointed you yet, so why would you disappoint him? Even if Kyle had failed once, you don’t think you could leave him like this. Feeling his tears drip against your neck, his hands grasping onto you like a child—you could never imagine. “It’s alright, now.” You whisper, your hand coming up to rub the back of his neck comfortingly,

He’s shifting back and forth on his feet, he has been the entire time but you only now began to notice. Your hand slides down his back near his waist and Kyle lets out a pained gasp, causing you to pause. “Shit—“ You say, freezing. “Are you okay?” Is Kyle injured??

Kyle clears his throat and he reluctantly lets go of you, his hand flying up to grab at the armrest of the couch to balance himself. “Fuck, Kyle—Okay, c’mon, let’s get you sat down..” You murmur gently, grasping his elbow. You help him sit down on the couch—very gently and slowly, though—and Kyle avoids your gaze again as you watch him wipe his cheeks dry. He hasn’t said a word to you yet, but he’s been saying so much with his face. You know how to read him like a book, so you don’t need his words. The slightest shift of his brow, you know what he needs.

You stand in front of him, your eyes glancing over his midriff that’s covered by his shirt and jacket. “Let me take a look, yeah?” You murmur, asking for permission. Kyle takes a moment before shakily inhaling and he nods, his fingers unzipping his jacket. He lazily tugs it off of his shoulders with a concerning wince, and he grabs a bunched up portion of his shirt and raises it to reveal a straight line of bruising right above his waist band. You can’t hold back the soft wince you give sympathetically. “Shit,” You utter. “I should get you some ice.” Before you can move, Kyle’s hand grabs your wrist. You look at him and he looks back at you; and your eyebrows raise as you connect the dots. He fell out of another helicopter.

“Stay for now?” He asks, his voice a bit croaky. You nod after taking a moment to think about how bad the bruising is, taking a seat next to him. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” You prod gently, knowing that if he fell out of a helicopter once more, he has to be injured other than his cheek and his abdomen. Kyle licks his lips before turning his head to look at you, and you just wanna hold him again from his exhausted and sad expression. “My back,” He whispers, making you freeze. “Medics said I sprained my lower muscles.” You allow yourself to relax at that and you let out a breath and nod. Kyle leans his head on your shoulder, and you lean your head on his; you put your hand on his knee, letting him know that you’re here.

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #modern warfare ii #roommate!gaz #gaz x reader #gaz x gn!reader #kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x gn!reader #gaz <3 #cod gaz #gaz modern warfare #i love gaz #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x you #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.3

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; You’re shot and not healing, what could be worse? Everything

word count; 3.8k | chasin’ chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n: First post of 2024 what the hell writers!? 🙈

The walk to the excile point was a surprisingly smooth one, even if it felt like you were walking through hells trenches. The grim reaper himself strides beside you even though your footsteps aren’t matching his. They’re a bit… delayed, the thought that makes you want to trip. Fortunately, it’s nothing too drastic to actually make you stumble. God you hated Americans, so trigger happy with not a lick of skill behind those damn fingers. How they contributed to win some of the largest wars ever recorded was beyond you. Continuing to let your unreliable footing carry you on your marry way, You and Ghost both lead your sergeants, while they in response lead your privates to your designated location.

Soap doesn’t even blink at the weight he had lugged on his back even though it was sure to bite him in the ass when he dialed back to his normal size. The small force of everyone is on guard until the very last moment where your all loading helis. Even then the Scott noted how the Wraith and Phoenix’s shoulders did not seem to drop, even though you were being confined into a temporary security until you could return to base. You, Gaz, Ghost, Price and Himself —along with two lower rank hybrids— load into one of the two aircraft’s waiting for you while the other privates have no choice but to load on the second.

You sit next to Gaz and Soap soon takes a seat next to you gleefully accepting the opportunity, a bit confused when Price seemingly turned his eyebrow up at the arrangement. His head slightly tilted when he noticed you don’t meet the captains gaze but the bucket hat wearing man doesn’t comment on it and neither does he. The ride from that point is smooth until about an hour in your pilot experiences turbulence, and suddenly Your head is spinning, your gums are itching as if you were a toddler teething. Everything is heightened, you can hear the blades of the heilo even through the density of you headphones, your eyes are sensitive to the faintest bit of the moonlight peaking through the windshield, and your body spiked in temperature, burning hot like hell. Your attempt to take a breath was useless when the potent scent of blood hits your nostrils. So sweet yet it felt like the peach fuzz in your nostrils burned and you groaned abruptly.

“You alright Lt? You dinnae look too we-”

“Which one of you is bleeding” You interrupt the Mohawk’ed sergeant with a hiss, placing a hand over your nose and curling over your knees. Heads snap to you like a mouse in a trap and Price is up out of his seat before anyone push the weight on their knees to stand. The brunette kneels in front of you, you’re not looking at him but he can see your eyes are dilated theirs faint veins trailing under your eyes that look like they want to spur from beneath your skin. You irises are layered with a foggy film and you look so far away it could’ve broken the captains heart, but he had to be your superior before he could be your comforter and he was sure you could handle it.

“Hey, Hey! What’s goin’ on? Look at me! What’s happe-?” It happened to quick to process, in the bat of an eye the Scott would say. One moment you’re looking distant and far away in your seat and the other you have one of your privates Tank against the cold steel wall of the heilo with that certain look in your eyes. You see it a few times in his line of work.

Bloodlust,

Fangs sprout from the roots of your gums, deep dark red veins swarm under your eyes, your pupils have taken over the whites of your eyes, and you are not yourself to say the least. In quick action Gaz squawks —even though it’s more like a screech— it put you down to your knees while you hands clutch your head mouth open in a small ‘o’ with a silent scream ghosting from your lips. It throws you off for a minute, but it’s not a minute long enough. You adjust quickly and with the same speed you pinned down the raven haired private you do the same to the rich skinned Sargent, a hand wrapped around his throat effectively stopping is antagonizing screeching. You bare your fangs at him with a hiss and he nods with a groan on his lips.

“I get it Lt, n-no more screeching… you g-got it”

Before you could do anymore damage your soon the one groaning when that scent takes over your senses again. When you turn to the source in your somewhat unconscious mind your realize it wasn’t your original subject, the scent was much more… potent

“This what you want? Come ‘ere, take what you want” Ghost’s gruff voice rings over your ears as he stands tall, combat knife in his right hand his opposite palm sliced open blood dripping like water from the tap. You didn’t quite lunge at the blonde but you weren’t gentle either. It was different… you were rigid as your fangs pierced his jugular taking exactly what you wanted with a hand wrapped around the front shoulder covering of his bullet proof vest. Soon however, you’re groaning into the surface of his skin ready to pull away when your frame was restrained against the wraiths keeping you in place. Your senses are be ridden into overdrive, grunting in protest against the lieutenant struggling inevitably. Shadows slither up your body effectively keeping you still and you’re weaker than ever —it concerns the Brit to no end— effectively out like a light, dead weight pressing against the front of Ghost’s torso. that he takes willingly. The chopper is finally quiet, seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. The captain and —conscious— lieutenant are the first to move, the skull masked soldier sits with your unconscious body in his lap. He swings your legs over his knees and holds your shoulders and in his arm supporting the weight.

Price examines your flesh, nothing alarming to the eye until he gets to the ending of your collarbone and beginning of your shoulder blade. It was barely noticeable to the eye with your all black gear a hole is punctured through your shirt —the fabric saturated with blood— just where your bulletproof vest stops.

“Gaz. Bullet wound, collarbone to shoulder area, ammo unknown, no exit.” The brunette calls out to the sergeant and he notes it immediately, going up to the pilots cavity to grab first aid coming back a practical second later. He hands his captain; gauze, scissors, forceps, tape, and medical wrap. Not nearly enough to give you a beginning of a processable recovery but, it’s something to keep you stable and sterilized. Price takes the shears cutting a big enough square in the fabric of your shirt for him to see with the shitty helo lighting. With enough gauze to clear out a cotton field the bleeding is finally stopped. What stands out the most however is your veins, different shades of black and gray spreading from the wounds up your neck and down your arm. Price curses gruffly, Ghost grunts in disdain, while Gaz catches a gasp in his throat and holds it there. Without another word and with a steady hand the dragon goes in with the tweezers fishing about for the stray bullet wearily when you twitch, ignoring how his lieutenant tightens his hold around you. Soon enough without hitting a nerve he pulls out a bullet its black resembling the color spreading abnormally through your veins.

“Never seen anything like it Cap” The brown eyed sergeant murmurs analyzing the bullet while the older brunette begins to patch you up good enough to where you aren’t bleeding out.

“Somethin’ illegal i'm pretty sure, Americans and Russians in wits with one another? Can’t be arsed to think about it” Their captain is cold, no humor in his voice to spare. Soap perks up at it having been waved away throughout the whole process of it all, ‘safety percussion’ the harpy tried to mutter to him softly even though it came off as passive and off putting the Scott got the message. With a knee bouncing in uncertainty the Scott tries his best to see through the gap of two fit frames that are practically shoulder to shoulder, begging to see anything —straining his eyes in the process— but in the end he wished he didn’t.

“Is she still breathing!? Check ‘er pulse how many beats per minute?”

“Mactavi-” The lieutenant begins with a hiss

“Those types of bullets mark hybrids for death, big ones, powerful ones, like us… like her. Wolves, dragons, sirens, cockatrice, harpies, hellhounds, cyclops, every big shot in the books. I don’t know how the ‘ell her heart hasn’t stopped”

“125 beats per minute Cap, her heart isn’t slowing it’s… going into overdrive” Gaz’s brows furrow at the words slipping from his lips as if it wasn’t his own recognition, as if he were learning it for the first time. Price curses moving towards the captain's cavity taking a hold of the mic that connected to his coms that ranged to base, speaking hardened than the brunette ever heard

“This is Bravo six, I want nurses on scene upon my arrival landing time ASAP. I have a member down… if I don’t see medical you won’t see a day of rest, private.” His voice fades out into the front of the helo with thundering steps that demand attention. Gaz kept a pointer and middle finger on your pulse point still counting the beasts as minutes pass, Soap felt short of helpfully useless, and when Ghost finally speaks up his voice is directed and sharp. Looking forward the two lower ranked hybrids one is checking over the other and they both look at him with attentive eyes

“What the hell happened in that building”

💌💌💌💌

“-nd she saved me” Your head is ringing and you can’t find it in you to peel your eyes open. The feeling of being heavily sedated yet pumped full of adrenaline at the same time, it felt so close to suffocation your body forces Itself into fight or flight. You're strapped to an average hospital bed with steel restraints, the cold metal on your hot skin not soothing you whatsoever. When your eyes peel open you eyes your vision is blurry you only make out blobbed figures until blinking a few times. A bright light is being shined in your face and you bare fangs at the person behind it.

“Stitch! Are you trying to lose a limb!? Back off!” The doctor barks at the dirty blonde nurse who flinches double, scrambling to get away from your bedside and out of her superiors way. Kyle is holding your hand at your right not caring if you’d scold him for being so worried all the time, Simon sits in a corner where he can see everything the medical team dies to you while also seeing who comes in and out of the door, John hovers reluctant with all medical staff —with that my team my concern mindset—, while Johnny stands beside Tank and Red near the door as they give the nurses their rundowns. You go to open your mouth only to be met with your vocal cords screaming at you in protest. The inability to speak makes you you groan that sounds more like a whine of a kicked puppy than anything

“I apologize, lieutenant. We believe it’s a side effect of the gunpowder in your bloodstream and we’re flushing you out as quickly as possibl-”

“Are there any updates to the status reports I requested?” You would have usually made fun of the dragons unusual impatience if you were in the comfort of his office; however you're in this cold, stale room that smells of too much bleach.

“Yes captain, the bullet is in fact meant to kill stronger hybrids. Once the hybrids are pierced with it there’s really no return for them, the gunpowder runs through the stream they become lucid quickly and all docile tendencies are forgotten. However, we suspect that that particular outburst from lieutenant y/l/n will be her only one because we’ve nailed down where it came from. We played around with time frames that lined up the best. You were shot and just before the ammo could burst with its gunpowder and spread the toxins through your stream you had fed blood to your lowerank to heal him.” The doctor cleared her throat before giving the room a much wanted update of your condition

“That doesn’t explain why she dropped ‘im like an old toy when Ghost’s blood was introduced.” Price spoke up too many gaps were missing for the brunette's taste as he ran a few fingertips through his short salt and pepper beard.

“I didn’t think such a… uncomfortable topic should be discussed as of right now” At the sound of reasoning Simon moves to stand messy bandaging over the he cuts having waved away the nurses who’d tried to attend to him —a little papercut shouldn’t not taken their attention off of you—. The room seemed significantly smaller when the lieutenant stood

“If opposing threats tread with those bullets we need to know everything about them. Nothing in this line of work is comfortable” His voice screamed demanding; demanding of attention, demanding of response, demanding of results. The middle aged woman visibly swallowed before speaking with a voice filled with discontent.

“With previous blood work of you three well, you all line back to lieutenant Y/l/n, or more precisely she lines back to you” Soaps ears perk up and so did his tail, fur rigid against the skin of it. He wants the brightest apple but he wasn’t the dullest pen either. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together but it sounded so off putting. You fed from them? He’d been around vampires before and you did show qualities of one, the fangs, the pitch black eyes when you fed, it was evidence and it was there… but you didn’t smell like one and seemed to have not even the slightest sensitivity to the sun. The mystery of it all killed him

If you weren’t a hybrid what the hell were you?

“Us, but it doesn’t make sense. She had me there could’ve bit into me” Gaz finishes for the medical agent brows furrowed once again the skin between them creased. The doctor nods while prying on a pair of blue latex gloves

“Doctors from both sides of base have been working on it for now, we believe it’s because you weren’t bleeding. It wasn’t potent enough for her to take interest in it. Our second guess? She was attracted to what or who she got done with last.” The room was silent, one heavy fog was replaced with another. No one speaks of what’s been revealed however you’re onto the next topic before you can dwell on it. The head doctor approaches you slowly, as if you were a skittish cat in the wild.

“I’m just gonna draw a little blood from you to run a few tests, make sure we didn’t miss anything.” You blink at her with sharp eyes and tense muscles when you see the size of the needle, not too much length enough to prick a vein the girth however made your hand twitch in Gaz’s palm. It even made the Scott want to tuck his tail with a wince.

“Hey. You’re alright, you’re fine, you hear me? You’re alright” Ghost had stepped up beside Price to your temporary bed, the heart monitor spikes and before you know it the needle is in your shoulder —meer meters away from the bullet wound that was mending itself at an inhuman speed—. You hiss jerking it away but the doctor is a good one and follows your quick motions successfully. Collecting enough blood in the clear syringe to send off to the labs. She quickly bandages your wound back confident, but not ignorant enough to linger around an upset hybrid.

“Test results should be back as soon as possible, in the meantime while lieutenant Y/l/n flushes the toxins out of her body the side effects of the bullet are still possible until further notice.”

“Which are?” The harpy huffs temper running unusually short, palm gripping your closed fist tighter —not enough to hurt but enough to notice a difference— a lick of tired at the woman’s shirt answers.

“Anything from spikes of heart rate, cold sweats, immense… hunger and most of all intense hallucinations. We think by the time her voice has returned most of the threat should be absent. All we can do is let it run its course, I’m sorry.” The brunette discards of her gloves and leaves the room idle. As much as you try to stay away your eyes droop low and are soon closed tight

💌💌💌💌

Soap sits next to your bedside, warm cup of coffee in hand, his eyes straining to look at the small tv mounted on the wall even though he wasn’t actively watching it. He had finally got Ghost to stretch his legs and go take a shower after three days of nothing but cold sweats and spikes of heart rate from you he decided his —other— lieutenant's heart needed a break. After much pestering, convincing, promising to stick by your side, and a little threat that summed up he wouldn’t think you would like to hear about him rotting next to your bedside the wraith finally took a leave after 72 hours.

“Kyle,” The Scott thought he was just imagining things at first or that it came from the Tv but as he stares at you for a while he realizes it was simply not true. He stared at your face for a while until you’re mumbling again and it pangs his chest a little. He didn't know any of you that well —didn’t know anyone except Price and Gaz really— but he still cared nonetheless it was in his nature.

“Simon, dont.” You’re starting to sweat again and your heart monitor is starting to beep. The werewolf moves to stand ringing for a nurse when it seems to get worse, your body is jerking and you keep mumbling in distress.

💌💌💌💌

You're walking up the stairs of some abandoned building, it's eerily chilly and there's really no light except for the dim overhead light on each floor you pass by that continues to flicker. The stairs and walls are concrete to match the walls and floors, you have your rifle pressed against you sweeping each floor swiftly with precision it could almost feel... normal. You reach the fifth floor and there's a stagger in your step. All of your privates lay dead in pools of their own blood like stuck pigs, hybrids and normals alike lie dead. After a spare moment you continue on to finish your mission as you were ordered to, as you were required to. The next floors to come are still filled with dead privates none lie peacefully, all gone in agony, too soon, you could read the tombstones now.

Your boots march almost rhythmically up three more floors and as they go by you are more and more desensitized to the bodies that sprawled the floor. You make it to the final story of the building and there's a door staring back at you, almost challenging you to open it and you take the duel with not the slightest bit of shake in your hand. The door opened with a loud whine at the unusual action and your riffle drops from your arms at the sight behind it.

You see your captain first, bucket hat that you always made fun of inches away from his body. His right horn that sits atop of his head looks damaged beyond repair and his neck is sliced open from ear to ear. Your breath is trapped in your throat and your body doesn't allow you to move. Your mentor, the reason you are where you are, your sacred captain, lies sliced like a sacrificial lamb. Your eyes trail away from the brunette's cold body and you wish they didn't, there lies your sergeant. One of the two full broad wings adorned with brown feathers are gone, singed away. Your sweet brown eyed boy stares at you voidly. There's no crease of his eyes to let you know he's smiling, no brightness to alert you of life, and the look of adoration he always gave you in particular that was taken for granted forever absent. You cradle his bruised face in your palm and this time you can't stop your tears from running downstream on your face.

"Kyle," Your voice cracks at the slightest utter of his name. You don't think you can say anything else or it'll mean it's true, it'll mean your captain and your sergeant are dead. You reluctantly stand a silent promise to come back to them both and make your way further in the room. You can see the back of a balaclava staring back at you and it helps you breathe better. You approach him with his callsign spilling from your lips. He looked to be hacking intel, just like your mission called for. You approach him putting a palm on his shoulder just for his head to fall limp and you could almost laugh. This had to be some cruel, sick, twisted, joke that should end any second now. It doesn't.

"Si get up right now, get the fuck up! GET UP SIMON!" Your body is trembling as you roughly shake his body, there's no response that comes from it hazel eyes rolled deep into the back of his head and you don't know which hurts worse. Your stomach churns when you gently lift the mask off his face to see toxins spreading through his veins up his neck. The best soldier, the strongest man you’ve met, your one and only, was dead.

💌💌💌💌

Put blood, sweat, and tears into this chapter because you guys deserve it

if you voted on my poll from the last chapter then you could see I used all prompts in this chapter except for one which we’ll deep dive into another day🤗

some have asked for a taglist so comment to be added

I hope you guys are having a wonderful year so far I love you and thank you for everything! -G

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #poly 141 #ghost x soap x reader #tf 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod angst #141 x reader #cod monster au #fluff #romance #angst #i love you #thewriterg #2024

[inncubus-honey]

s/o with a snort laugh- cod

as someone with a snort laugh, there are times where I'm insecure about it, but the other half is I don't care and im just living with it. so here's to all people with snort laughs!

price:

its like a gift from heaven itself; its johns favorite quirk of yours. he loves hearing it from the common room as you snort with breathy laughs because of simons dry dad jokes. or from soap shouting, gibberish at gaz hiding his chipped, pink mug that he uses daily for coffee. 

after a long mission in the heil, johns chest builds up with warmth at the sound of you giving small snorts as gaz snored on simons shoulder with soap snoring on his other shoulder. you could tell by simons eyes that he was scowling underneath his mask.

———

price found comfort in the dorkiness of your laugh while at times, you had said you hated your laugh. but it reminded him of everything human outside of war, death and everything y’all see on the battlefield. its so you to him and he wouldnt have it any other way.

gaz:

hes the kind of guy to make you laugh harder in order for your snorts to continue. he’ll look up the all classic, cheesy pickup lines in order to start a laughing fit for you. he takes a minute to watch you with the biggest warm, chocolate brown eyes as you covered your mouth to cover up the smalls sounds that left your lips. just searing your laugh and little snorts to memory as you grab your stomach to catch your breath.

———

gaz has a recording of you laughing at a stupid dad joke of his during a dinner date at your apartment. he plugs in earbuds and plays the video whenever hes really missing you or he has a moment alone. gaz has fallen asleep to that recording more times he could possibly count during deployments; its his comfort in the chaos of military work.

ghost:

his eyes are already always trained on you ever since yall got together. at the barracks, on the heli before the drop off point, at all points on the mission, at a bar after a mission; simons eyes are watching you at every moment. whenever he cracks a stupid dad joke after a mission at the bar, your snorts carries its way to his ears and he feels all tension leave his body. copper eyes softened as he watched your body shake as gaz groaned in the background while soap smirked after telling a dad joke. he felt complete whenever he heard your laugh, like everything connected in place in his mind. 

———

simon held your warmer body close to his as yall laid under the covers in your shared apartment. watching your slowly stirring figure, a small smile tugged at his lips when your eyes finally opened and met his. upon seeing simon watching you, a small snort left you as embarrassment flushed your face. simon joined you underneath which caused more snorts to leave your lips as he nuzzled into your face.

soap:

your snorts make him snort whenever you laugh ever. yall hold on each other as you both keep letting out little snorts which yall both laugh harder and the cycle continues. all he has to do is say one word for y'all to keep laughing and snorts escaping in your wheezy laughter. as soap took a deep breath and baby blue eyes traveled over to you, his breath caught in his throat as he saw how angelic you looked as cute sounds escaped your lips.

———

he brought your lips upon his as the only thing he could think about was feeling you against him. you’re too beautiful not to kiss in the moment, soap thinks to himself as you relaxed into the kiss. you had been surprised when he pulled you into it earlier. but you wrap your arms around his neck with his hand tangled into your hair as harsh breaths left his nose. soap could only hope and pray to whatever god was listening that he can keep you in his arms forever, that you find comfort in them forever and whenever you need it.

keegan:

he swears he hates the sound of your snorts whenever he walks by the common room to see you laughing with logan and ajax on the couch. but the minute he's in his room, alone, its the only thing playing on repeat in his mind. sometimes he wishes he could wake up to that sound; that he could turn over in bed and see you laying with him as you giggle at something on your phone. 

———

quietly keegan approached you as he was getting ready to take his turn for the night watch. logan and ajax were sleeping for their turn. walking up to where you sat on the watchtower, your rifle sat on your lap as you watched carefully, he sat down next to you and watched as you. just in your element of being on the mission…you being you which caused keegan to have those same flustered feelings from before to shoot throughout his chest. keegan thought of a joke that ajax told him earlier and decided to try it out on you.

upon telling you the joke, small snorts left your lips as you tried to cover your mouth so as not to give yourselves away. keegan gives small laughs at the sound of your laughing, soon dying in his chest when the clouds parted in the sky to reveal moonlight down onto you. your figure was graced with shining light as your snorts soon died down as well; keegan saw everything with you from such a lovely sound.

alex:

knowing this man, he would be a mix of price and soap. where he would bask in the warm feeling your laugh provides for him while on the other hand he would keep telling you jokes to keep hearing your snorts. alex would have a smirk upon his face as he just calmly told you jokes and your snorts continued leaving your lips, lovelying watching you as you covered your mouth with your hand. anytime someone tries to say something about your snorts, alex calmly brings them into another room and threatens them within an inch of their life.

———

not so gently alex harshly grasped the recruits arm as he dragged them into an empty spot near the mess hall. throw them inside, alex marched up close to the and bore into their soul. he told them that he ever them or anyone call your cute snorts, ‘a pig laugh’, he wouldn't hesitate to have them run 100 laps outside or clean the armory top to bottom. alex felt fire in his veins after the recruit made the comment and made your face crumple as you covered your laugh with his hand. scared for their life, the recruit nodded and spat out how they wouldnt do it again to which alex sent out of the room.

when alex made his way back to you and saw how dejected you look, he immediately scooped you up and brought you to his room. he spent the rest of the afternoon telling you how cute and heart-warming your laugh made him feel or how he always brags to the boys about how beautiful you look whenever you have a laughing fit.

#cod mw2 x reader #gn reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #keegan russ x reader #alex keller x reader

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Soundly (Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader)

Summary: You’ve injured your arm, leaving you frustratingly helpless to complete everyday tasks, like cleaning yourself. Your boyfriend and colleague Simon understands your apprehension towards accepting help for such a task and tells you how he does.

AN: Working title was “Sprain” for those of you who voted in the poll. I’ll be posting the Soap fics shortly and posting another poll for my other upcoming fics afterwards! Meanwhile, let me know what you think in replies or inbox me, tell me your thoughts on fics - present or future. 

I just want Ghost to feel loved and to recover from all the shit he went through. I did a fic for that and sharing a bed, so I’m doing this one for the reader a.k.a. me. Plus I like the head canon that Ghost is actually kinda talkative, like in the Alone mission. I know he’s probably partly chatting to Johnny to because he’s trying to keep him focused, guiding him to regroup and survive. But he’s telling dumb jokes and joking about watching his torture video. He’s got banter and trauma!

Content warnings: Allusions to Ghost’s time being tortured by Roba and the Mexican Cartel - specifically his SA as well as the reader’s. Reader is GN, no use of Y/N

Masterlist // AO3

For “just a sprain”, your elbow hurt like a bastard. It was resting in the hammock of the sling your doctor ordered you to keep on. Almost smugly, it sent a few stings across the bone when you were also instructed to restrict your movements and get support to complete day-to-day tasks before you were signed off on a month’s medical leave – pending review at the end of it for being brought back to work.

It was half your fault. The sprain in the first place was caused by some asshole who would not go down quietly and attempted to dislocate your limb. Thankfully, your training automatically twisted you into a position preventing that but then you had to shoot that asshole and your gun was in the arm he’d injured. The bullet that you fired solidified the damage and you were forced to focus hard on aiming with your non-dominant hand whilst slugging it over to the Heli half a klick to the west for recon. You didn’t have to shoot the guy straight away. You’d kicked him down and he was too far from his own weapon to have made it before you could have swapped your gun to your other hand and ended his life the same miserable way. But nah, in the heat of gunfire, you’d decided to end the fight as quick as possible then ran like a bat out of hell back to safety where the rest of your crew was headed.

Simon had known you long enough – and dated you long enough – to not treat you like glass. He wouldn’t insult you like that. Therefore you were very grateful that he was the one to take you home, and that his driving was a lot steadier and smooth on the motorway.

Letting you open the front door, he carried both his and your bags inside, ready to start your medical leave this instant. He was heading out of the hall with his shoes dropped loudly onto the rack when he asked:

“You want anything specific for tea?”

“Nah, I’m good with whatever.”

Despite years of therapy, this injury had dealt a hefty blow to your pride; you didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you were going to be over the next few weeks. Thank God you’d been to his place enough times for it to be considered familiar.

From the airing cupboard, you collected the towel that Simon had bought you after your fifth stay here and smiled at the memory of shopping for it together. He’d asked for what colour you preferred then gathering other items into the trolley that were the same shade: toothbrush, wash cloth, cup to sit by the bathroom sink. He was nice like that.

The bathroom door locked behind you, the final ebbs of afternoon reaching in through frosted glass. You thanked the sun for enabling you to keep the lights off; the buzz that accompanied their stark spark on the silky tiles was always too much for you. However as warm as the daylight was, it failed to soothe your state. When you tried to retrieve the memory of how you’d gotten this t-shirt on in the first place, your mind offered you a blank slate and tears of frustration bubbling over, stinging worse than the injury as you tried to warp it against its will. But to no avail. Your bitten tongue surrendered so that the crying could commence with your t-shirt still stuck on your body.

Gentle rapping at the door didn’t halt anything. Surrendering felt like an admission of weakness, failure, and it poisoned you against yourself as you twisted the lock in the handle and slumped on the rim of the bath.

A pair of plain-socked feet appeared at the top of your line of sight, lingering on the cobalt carpet side of the door frame.

“Can I borrow your scissors please?” You asked, toying with a stray string dangling from the hem.

“You gonna stab me?” Simon inquired semi-sarcastically.

“Yes.” It was a pathetic little reply. But Simon pushed off the bath, belongings tinkling against one another as he rooted around then retrieved a small pair of scissors from the top shelf.

He sat down beside you on the rim, holding out the scissors by the blade, “It’s a nice shirt.”

You wiped your nose on the hem before taking the scissors, “It’s just Primark.”

“I can help you out of it, if it is Primark’s finest.”

“Was just cut it off.”

But of course your dominant hand was tied up in the sling, and you only just realised now.

“I could help you take it off.”

You’d never been undressed around Simon. The closest you’d gotten were jogging bottoms you’d cut into knee-length shorts and the sleeves of your t-shirt pushed onto your shoulders whilst you both worked out at opposite ends of the gym. Towards the end of your set, you mopped at your brow with the hem of your shirt once and the sliver of skin nearly sent Simon into anaphylactic shock.

He knew why you grappled with the notion of undressing. But he didn’t ever linger on you going elsewhere to change. Across your relationship, and even before it started, he’d shown you love in so many other ways that you would forget about what had happened to you.

Today was the first time he addressed it: “I understand why you wouldn’t want me to help.”

Without moving your head, your watchful stare latched onto his adjusting to the nuisance of sitting on a thin perch of porcelain. He withdrew his skull balaclava from its suffocating in his pocket and began kneading at it until the eyehole faced the ceiling you’d stared at many times, wishing you could be more intimate with the man you loved more than life.

 “Your reasons aren’t so different from mine.” And he held out the mask to you.

The olive branch was accepted and you thumbed over the skull plate as best you could with the scissors still in your grip. Only when your thumbnail caught against the paint depicting a cheekbone did it dawn on you what your boyfriend was referring to.

“Simon-”

“None of that,” He interrupted you, gently, firmly, “I get it. I don’t wanna bother you if you don’t want me here.”

He rubbed along your shoulder as you matched your deep breaths to his, resting your eyes to bask in his comfort and crushing the mask in your loose fist. You’d always equated it to anonymity. Never had you thought of linking it to another form of comfort.

“You can bathe with your clothes on,” Simon suggested after a minute’s silence.

“Do you know how hard it is to remove wet denim?” You muttered with a crooked smile.

“I do,” and he pressed a kiss to your forehead – his preferred place to do so. “Let’s give this a go.”

You handed back his balaclava and took in his bare face, the medical mask – the one he’d been wearing whilst you were in the hospital and all the way home - gone, his expression carefully crafted to be neutral so that you didn’t have to be.

He eased your sling off you after the taps were thundering steaming water into the tub. Then he vanished to his room, returning with a pair of baggy sports shorts. Cradling them like a baby, your nose welcomed their softness and the steam whilst Simon knelt onto the fluffy bathmat, nodding after splashing the bathwater and twisting the taps into silence.

“I’m gonna stink if I don’t wash properly,” You whispered.

After opening his palms to you, Simon took your shorts and arranged them on the floor, “I’ll get you some wet wipes to use while we wait for your arm to heal up.”

You held onto his shoulders whilst he undid your jeans and eased them down your legs, his hands careful to stay hidden in the fabric whilst you stepped out of them and into the shorts. Simon to pulled them up to your hips.

“Why did the magician take a bath?” He asked you as you lowered yourself into the water.

“I dunno, why?”

“To clean up his act.”

Your chest quivered, struggling to hold in your groans and giggles whilst Simon pumped some blueberry body wash into his palm, “That’s good.”

Tenderly he circled the soap across your forearm, “Fancy another?”

“Go on.” You were nothing if not his little enabler, indulging in his humour even after the rest of 141 had lightly roasted him for it.

“Knock, knock.”

Your free hand fiddled with the sodden hem of your t-shirt, “Who’s there?”

“Dwayne.”

“Dwayne who?”

Soaking the flannel and wringing it out over your arm, Simon began to wash the suds away, “Dwayne the bathtub before I dwown.”

Your smile was not dampened by the tears that rolled down your cheeks and dripped onto the shallow waterline. Instead, you focused your blurry vision on Simon’s hoodie sleeves that were pushed up to his elbows, those broad forearms sprinkled with droplets and soapsuds.

When Simon was lathering up some more body wash, you offered your own joke: “What did the man say after he swallowed a clock and went to the toilet?”

“What?”

“Watch out.”

Simon snorted loudly whilst carefully manipulating your injured arm amidst the blueberry bubbles.

You wiped a new tear away on your shoulder: “I’ve already told Kyle but you can tell it to Johnny.”

“Much obliged.”

With permission and a slow touch, he started soaping up your shins. His contact always lingered for hours on your skin. This felt like a polish, not a scratch or a dent, which is why you felt so overwhelmed now, just as you did that first time he gave you a proper bear hug. You didn’t mind the blueberry, something else to focus on instead of letting yourself meander towards conjuring disturbing imaginations of what you’d just learnt about Simon’s capture in Mexico.

He let you take over for washing your thighs, sitting on the toilet still talking to you with a smile that cracked up his face like the scar, from lip to brow. His eyes never strayed from your face, though it never felt like you were a target down his scope, more like feeling the sun first thing in the morning with a delicate breeze that danced around your being. Such a gaze wasn’t alien to Simon, even if he rarely showed it to you, and never to anyone else. You were just grateful that he was able to be like this, and that he still chose to.

That same stare, he held it whilst draping a towel around your shoulders, patting over your arms before he gathered it at the front for you to hold in your healthy hand. Then he collected a pile of clean clothes from the bedroom, placing them onto the closed toilet lid, you noted the crisply ironed button up folded on top. You settled for nestling your head against his chest since you were unable to hug him.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll make dinner.”

The door was locked after Simon disappeared behind it. You did end up cutting yourself out of the shirt, rest in peace. Fogged-up, the mirror wasn’t so bad to stare at whilst you moisturised with your good hand. You could still feel where Simon’s calloused hands had brushed over your skin, tingling in each follicle, and it was protected by the button-up you were able to slide on – one of the few Simon owned. His bulk was once again your gain; the shirt was loose enough to give you some wiggle room whilst dressing.

Clattering from the kitchen caught Simon in the act of putting away the ironing board. He was taking loud and rehearsed deep breaths that hissed through the fabric of his freshly-donned balaclava, the board under his arm before he tossed it into its assigned slot. His hand shook as it released the cupboard door handle, searching for something to distract himself with until he latched his stare onto you bunching your shirt in the front.

“I can’t do my buttons up,” You said quietly.

Your stomach impulsively sucked in on itself when his hands reached for the buttons before it, joining them with the fabric. Nevertheless, your gaze found solace in the thatch of fine chest hair growing in the lowest peak of his V-neck.

Simon started from the bottom button and made his way up. With each wince, his fingers stalled. But you knew he’d never hurt you, never on purpose and never like that. He made steady progress until complete and even helped you replace your sling. But then he sniffed and brushed his nose briefly, stepping away and back to the kitchen. For five minutes he alternated between sifting through the cupboards and staring helplessly into the fridge, his face washed out by the stagnant light inside. You took the time to help him in one of the ways you knew how.

“I’ll order us a takeaway.”

Immediately he slammed shut the fridge door, “You’re a fucking star.”

You were not put off by his pacing back and forth, nor were you by his hovering over you like a gargoyle whilst you tapped at the screen – which you held in a way for him to see clearly in case he wanted to add something. A wide berth allowed you to approach him on the couch with the takeaway when it arrived half an hour later (always reliable, hence why it was your go-to takeaway place). Simon also accepted the drink you brought him, but only because he’d already gotten you one plus two pain meds he made sure you took after getting some food into your stomach first.

The cushioned lap trays you’d invested in were already paying for themselves.

Dinner inhaled and rendering you quite soporific, you mirrored Simon’s earlier actions and tentatively shuffled closer to him, “Is this ok?”

“Yeah.” His arm dropped to around your waist, and you tugged on his wrist to keep it there. Only then did you tentatively wrap yourself around his full belly.

“Fuckin’ softie,” He said under his breath. That didn’t stop him from giving you a little squeeze – his hand no longer trembling - and sinking himself lower so that there was no pressure on your sprain. He turned the volume down a little, which sparked inspiration in your mind.

Half hiding in his t-shirt, you projected loud enough for him to hear you: “The local TV controller museum shut down due to no visitors. Turns out people aren’t remotely interested.”

“Have you been researching these instead of doing your paperwork?”

“What makes you think I haven’t been doing my paperwork?”

Simon looked down at you, those expressive eyes communicating both the “are you fucking for real?” and the “you’re lucky you’re cute” in equal parts. But from the way his balaclava was balanced on his face, you could tell he was smiling at you. So you smiled back at him then snuggled back against him with a contented sigh and the existence of your new joke book still a secret (for now).

The next time you opened your eyes, it was much darker in the living room. A blanket was tucked around your legs. The glow of “Are you still watching Phil Wang: Philly Philly Wang Wang?” from the flat-screen, despite that not being what you were watching when you first drifted off, bathed you in enough low light to allow you a comfortable adjustment period. You squinted up at your boyfriend. Head back in the pillows, his chest was rising and falling with each breath he drew and released through his nose. You adjusted the blanket around to cover his legs too and, tucking yourself back into your bundle, both you and Simon slept soundly.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley oneshot #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod oneshot #mw2 fanfic #my writing #r: gen #wc: >2k

[thesharktanksdriver]

Sharky throws hands Fins (Platonic)

Part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

@crazyfandomist Maybe a request!! Sharky goes out on a mission with them and they see Sharky doing the up most terrifying take down along with a good scare of when they get hit by a bullet? Of course Sharky is fine but now they’re in lockdown till they’re fully healed

You asked and you shall receive. Really like this request and decided to go the full mile. You guys can expect some more Sharky stuff with shadow company and eventually some other stuff.

If there’s one thing that the entire squad of 141 can agree on it’s that your a bit of a wild card

A wild shark as Soap would joke in the heli as it landed and everyone felt the true weight of their guns now in their hands

They knew you were rambunctious, a bit of a hot head and maybe a bit fucked in the head from the shit you constant spouted out

But this was a whole new level of bullshitery that they had to unpack

It all started out as a relatively normal mission that turned into yet another battlefield

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Like the others you ran, your smaller form being able to be somewhat ignored by the enemies as dust clouded the air

Sadly though even with this you got shot in the scuffle and now had to deal with the pain that rumbled through you

Adrenaline was kicking in now but you still took the time to try and deal with you wound as best you could with limited resources

Seems like Ghosts’s gorilla warfare class actually came to good use unlike algebra like your teaches insisted

Hushed cursed words fall from your mouth as you climb the stairs of an old decrepit home, carefully placing each step in case of any trip wires

“Kid you alright?!” Seems like your com wasn’t broken, that’s good but what isn’t is the amount of worrying that was gonna make Price’s hair go grey. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You try to hid the smile hidden in your voice as you role your eyes. You hear a sigh of relief on the other end, you continue through the empty home before getting to the top floor that contained some extra ammo that you nabbed.

“Where are you?”

“Old house. Looks like something from a horror movie?, Texas chainsaw vibes honestly. Wonder if they’ll have the dead teenagers as well”

You get a array of different responses over the live that makes you giggle as you look out the broken window

Seems like they’ve made good work, most of who’s left are dropping like flies to the shared effort of everyone else

A once yellow and dusty ground painted a rouge red by a liquid your so familiar with now

Through a gust of wind you notice a form

You instantly recognize it’s not price, too small, not ghost, not as bulky, not Gaz, not as slim, and not soap, doesn’t have the swagger in his step

Oh and they aren’t wearing the same uniform

That was probably a better identifier but by now you had memorialized your teammates and it was easier to identify people by that alone

He had his back turned to the house, hiding behind a small rusted over car as he gazed out its windows with his gun raised

Oh hell no

You get closer to the window you spied out of, pulling out your knife as you placed a foot on the windowsill

You could just shot the guy, it would be quick and easy but you decided to bite the bullet today

You’d seen ghost do something similar once and had to admit it was pretty badass

Probably something someone would put into some “top ten badass military moments” list by watchmojo or something

He’s unfocused and not paying attention to his surroundings

He’s dead before he even realizes you jumped from the second story window

Knife plunging into him as you wrap yourself around him, legs squeezing his waist and one arm pulling his head back allowing his throat to be open season

Like a scythe reaping a crop, he’s left falling to the ground with the spoil of your reaping

A curtain of red spouting from his neck as it stained the ground and your blade

You get up with terracotta coloured dust sticking to your fingertips like cheeto dust with a mixture of blood

Your then meet with your slack jawed team mates all of whom glanced from his corpse to you, to his corpse and then to your bleeding arm

Shit

Safe to say they all have varying reactions and are all not very happy about you lying about being ok

Ghost is a mixture of annoyance, anger and some slight sliver of pride

He’s not happy about you lying about not being harmed in the events of the attack

For fucks sake it could’ve hit something vital and you could’ve died before they got there

It makes him realize how your reliance on yourself is both a blessing and curse that they need to find a balance on

But on the other hand….nice

Listen, he’s still bloody pissed and is giving you a good old British style verbal smack down but he has to admit he’s very proud at watching that takedown

Yours was slightly adjusted to suit you better but it worked like a charm

Makes the old man proud even if he’s still vibrating from anger

It kinda makes him worried at the same time though since it shows your being influenced by him

He’s afraid you’ll become like him, lose that annoyingly bright smile of yours that never failed to lift him from the trenches of his mind

He knows he can’t protect you from the hardships of this job, the crusted blood on you is a reminder of that

But, keyword is but, he will do everything in his power to protect the one last semblance of good in his life

After he simmers a bit he eventually ends up pulling you into his arms, hands slightly shaking

His grip is strong as he holds you, a hand gently maneuvering itself to cradle your head carefully. As if your made of glass. “Please don’t do that again” he sounds painfully fragile, a thin wooden house that can be destroyed by a simple breeze. “I can’t lose you kid. So please don’t do stupid shit like that again or become like me…aight Sharky?” it sounds less like a command and more like him pleading. You pull back slightly and nod, watching as hidden eyes that were surrounded by black voids became slightly wet. It smudges the black makeup around his eyes as you return the hug.

Price as you can expect is pissed and worried like ghost

Like he’s going full on disappointed dad mode as holds your hand in med bay as a nurse removes the bullet

Your grounded for the next 2 weeks

No amount of whining will be able to guilt nor change his mind. Don’t test him cause he may extend it if you try to weasel your way out of this

He frequently checks up on your wound making sure it’s healing correctly

Him along with Laswell are the ones who help you change bandages and disinfect it from time to time

Doesn’t want to admit it but he Almost had a heart attack when he realized you were shot and still proceeded to jump out a 2 story building

100% pulls you into his office after you got your wound properly patched up and have you a serious talking to

It’s moreso about why you had lied to them about being fine when you were short

It’s then on like ghost he realizes this could become a reoccurring issue if he doesn’t do anything about it

He personally teaches you how to properly treat yourself with limited supplies

And also teaches you the importance of relying on your teammates

Plus how important it is to not ignore what can look like a simple bullet wound

He probably opens up a bit, telling you an experience he had when he was younger. How something similar happened to a friend of his who thought it was nothing but paid for it in the end

It sticks better than most of his angry comments since you can see genuine fear in his eyes

You nod, getting a sigh in return from him as he settles down in his cushioned leather chair

Cigar smoke lingers up in the air as Price taps it against his ashtray, you notice that there’s more ash than usual piled up in it. “Do you get why it’s important now?” His voice is stern as usual but you can see a hint of vulnerability in it, shining through the cracks of his built up walls. “Yes sir” at this be nods, a smile finally finding a place on his face as he adds “good. other than that you did good out there, great takedown. now your still in lockdown but you allowed to train with some limitations”. The praise makes you smile and has a surge of pride claw at you.

Soap is low key still kinda concerned but he’d be a hypocrite to say he hadn’t done the same before

Only difference is that he hasn’t gotten caught…often

He swears Ghost is like a fucking blood hound cause that’s the only reason why he’s been caught hiding a wound

On the way back to base he’s two seconds away from complimenting your takedown until he gets the side eye from both Price and Ghost which shits him up

Well shuts him up until he visits you that night

Kinda has to sneak to you room but once he gets there he’s full on pat on the back and taking nonstop

He suggests you teach him lol

Probably jokes at one point that ghost is jealous that you do it better and that why he’s all pissy

While he isn’t upset about what happened he still suggest not to be stupid (like him) and hide stuff like that often

He tries to convince Price to get body cams but he shuts that down sadly

No watchmojo top ten sadly nor one of those military propaganda TikTok’s

To make you possibly feel better about getting shot and getting a scar from it he tells you about all the scars he got

Going into detail with each and maybe making up a few fake stories to make them more interesting rather than “I feel down the stairs and then laid there face down for 15 minutes before their found me”

Though to be honest that would probably be funnier but he has his pride to keep intact

Pokes your wound which leads you to slap his hand

During your grounding he gets you some dvd’s and give you his Netflix password (despite the fact you already have Netflix)

You cancel your subscription and now mooch off of him

Your profile is named “parasite” due to this

Sends you a lot of TikTok’s that he thinks will lift your mood

Likes to spend his free time In Your room in your mountain of shark and ocean animals plushies

For once he lets you play with his hair

Your hands rank through Soaps hair as the sound of a random Netflix documentary plays in the background. He’s leaned back, head resting in your hands as you use hair clips and hair tied to mess with his hair. He lets out a small chuckle when you mumble that “i bet with this look you’d be the prettiest princess of them all”, it also receives an eye roll from him as he clutches one of your many shark plushies.

Gaz is kinda a mixture of soap and Price. Like that was rad as fuck but at the same time wtf are you doing walking around with a gunshot wound

Honestly the most neutral about it

Like he pats you on the shoulder for how impressive that was but he’s also telling you please not ignore wounds next time

Like Soap he visits you during your grounding and makes sure to tell you what happened

Probably tries to lessen the blow by being “nah nothing much had been happening on those missions your not missing much”

Give you free reign to go in his room and play on his Xbox while he’s gone

Might’ve even bought a few extra games to keep you busy

Also delivers snacks

He constantly checks to make sure your wound is ok despite the fact you told him Price and Laswell check up on it

Listen he’s just worried and can’t sleep easy after seeing a soldier a year back getting a nasty infection and dying

Doesn’t tell you about this though since he doesn’t want to worry you about it

He doodles on your skin in his free time with crayola wash markers

Their all fun little drawings of the team, their actually well down in a cute but simple kinda way

You might be tempted to actually get it tattooed

And might’ve done it impulsively so when he got back he’s confused as to why one of his drawings seemingly stuck

When he finds out though he slam it cries cause he finds it really heartfelt

Seems like this forced vacation wasn’t bad after all except for ghost bonking you in the head for getting something like that done without a second thought

Ghost admittedly does think it’s a cute tattoo and has a nice meaning but still, he urges you to tell at least him next time so he can take you to his tattoo artist

Gaz now colours in your tattoo with those same Crayola markers for fun with a giant smile

“Fuck I can’t believe you actually got this done” he says taking out a blue blueberry scented marker, the smell is strongly synthetic but it brings back a lot of memories. “Worth it though!, I now have your hat permanently on my body” he makes a face from that which makes you laugh, his brows crinkling up ever so slightly.

“Please don’t phrase it like that “

#simon ghost riley x reader #platonic #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #modern warefare 2 x reader #Sharky y/n

[ladyelissarose]

———————— ☠️

Maybe it was it’s silkiness that had you intrigued, or the innocence it held amongst the darkness and death that has you reaching for it as if it were gold.

“Come on.. its o- OW! oof!!”

“What the hell are you doing Sergeant!?”

Now held up- off your toes by the collar of your bulletproof vest, your Lieutenant Simon ‘the-fucking Ghost’ Riley is holding onto it with both hands as his eyes scan your face with disapproval.

One hand of yours was on his wrist, while the other cradled your head, for you bumped it hard when he had picked you up from under the tank.

But your head was still sharp enough to hear the million questions in his head, so you cleared your throat while you pointed towards the tank,

“I saw a-“

“Why were you under the tank Sergeant?

Someone could’a run your arse over- if not fuck it for the damn position you were in.”

Ok maybe his bluntness could be tuned down but yeah he was right anyways.

Of course, as you were reaching for your found treasure, your ass was in the air while you were on your knees, bent down trying to get a hold of what had caught your eye under the tank.

Embarrassment washed over you as the vision of you in the position came clear, but it dissipated quickly as you pointed back at the truck, eyes not leaving Ghost’s as he still held you up and at his face,

“Lieutenant-“

“What was so important- you realize your stuff should’ve been in the heli by now because we’re leaving?”

Yes you knew that- and jokes on him it was already packed up in the heli right next to Soap’s bag on top of Price’s because you never liked yours on the floor of the heli.

Anyways, that’s why you were spending your last few spare minutes lurking around the base outside. And while skipping around you heard the softest squeak, which halted your moves and got you looking for the next sound like a crazy woman.

Your poor Lieutenant was still scolding your ear off and a few times here and there you were looking in his eyes trying to look attentive, but your ears were still catching the sound that had you curious at first.

Eyes looking back at the tank as you vividly imagined what you could do to get your prize once your Lieutenant let you go, had Ghost growing irritated at your visible ignorance, hence he started shaking you as he finally had had it with you,

“Ok that’s it Sergeant! You’re not paying attention and acting like a child! Get in the heli now!”

Your jaw dropped and your puppy eyes came out, you knew it was useless to argue with your superior, but you’d hope he’d show mercy at your saddened state.

But the damn Ghost didn’t budge.

Placing you back on your feet and like a disappointed father he pointed towards the heli with a hand on his hip,

“If your not in that thing by the time I count to five, you’re not going on a mission with Soap for 3 weeks and you can’t Uber pizza to base for a whole month-“

“What-“

“Don’t make each punishment triple. Now go Sergeant- and sit where you know I’ll sit. Don’t move... or else.”

Your bottom lip jutted out in defeat, heart sinking as you no longer could get what you wanted. Like a child after getting scolded by your father- ‘Ghost’, you walked towards the heli with your head hung low.

Walking by and away from the tank was the toughest thing to do, but soon you made it in the heli, and sat where Ghost told you so. You’d have to have some steel ass balls to disobey his stern orders and do otherwise, but because you were you and no matter how it hurt, you listened.

Sitting by his favorite seat, you kicked your feet as you waited patiently for him to arrive. Soon you heard his thudding footsteps coming your way, not needing to look up because by now you’ve learned he sound of every single one of the 141’s unique footsteps.. and Lieutenant Riley’s was always light but had a soft ‘thud’ to it.. no matter how big and heavy he was, he walked like a confident deer, unseen or barely heard.

Your eyes were locked on your hands, playing with the fingers on your gloves that Price had gifted you, after you lost them while fishing. But soon a light but heavy plush plopped onto your hands.

“Meowww.”

“Awe!-“

“That’s for listening you bloody twat.”

Cold as ever despite doing the softest act by bringing you your prize, Ghost sat by you with a huff as he warned you supposedly threateningly,

“You do as much as touch me one bit, I swear I’ll geet-“

“It’s yeet-“

“Shut up Sergeant I’ll still toss his furry ass out-“

“But it’s a baby-“

“I warned you, now let me sleep. Oh and that thing stays in my office at base. You can come see it whenever but it stays there or around me when I’m out.”

You giggled and awed like an idiot in love yet you replied,

“Yes sir- and ah thank you Lieutenant!”

“Not a peep either-“

“Meowww..”

You shut your lip and squealed quietly as you cuddled your prize closer to your face, the kitten.

It was so soft and cuddly, white but covered in gray patches. It even reminded you of Ghost, it was perhaps all scratches and hisses.. but actually the softest, sweetest thing ever.

It purred in your hands as you cradled it close, and that made you the happiest soldier ever, how it found peace in one of the most broken people in the world.

How your Lieutenant knew about your fascination of the kitten under the tank was beyond you, and how his big scary self got it- but that’s why you loved the Ghost.

P.S. - Ghost wanted the kitten in his office because he found some sort of solace in it, like peace? And it reminded him of you, the way it found peace in him from the second he picked it up.

Plus he liked having you around too, for your presence helped him out in ways you didn’t even know. So, if that kitty was around, you’d be too.

#cod simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon riley fluff #simonghostriley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost fluff #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley imagine #simon riley call of duty #simon riley fanfic #call of duty fluff #call of duty

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

The Light Behind Your Eyes

Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Task Force 141 X Platonic!F!Reader

“Gave us quite a scare, darling, try not to do that again, that’s an order.” Price’s laugh was thick and wet, clearing his throat to try and help stop the tears. “Not allowed to leave us just yet there sweetheart, not until you’re old and gray.” Gaz knew you could hear their jokes, even if they fell somewhat flat.

a/n:ahhhhh! this is thanks to my amazing friend @gaylemonshark fuel my angst filled heart, this was probably the angstiest thing I've written in a while! warnings:mentions of blood, wounds, near death experiences, blood loss, broken bones, it's a total angst fest

It was supposed to be an easy mission, get the intel and get it back to base so that Laswell can analyze it. None of you had been expecting the firefight that greeted you the moment the helicopter landed. Price had taken the lead, Ghost running alongside him as they did their best to take out any enemies that were within eyesight. They’d managed to get more than half, laying low to check ammo and make sure that everyone was alright. A sniper had nearly taken Soap out, you had tackled him to the ground when you noticed the little dot resting on his shirt.

He’d thanked you quickly before firing back his own shot, successfully taking out the sniper that had been firing at your group. Price had sent you, Ghost, and Soap into the building to retrieve any important information while he and Gaz scoured the area. It was unnervingly quiet as you scoured for any documents, or hard drives that you could snag.

“I don’t like this, it seems too easy.” Ghost was on edge, and that wasn’t something he felt often.

“It’ll be alright, we’ll get what we need and meet back up with Price.” You pushed open the door to your left, jaw dropped as you took in the amount of filing cabinets.

Shit, this was going to be a lot more difficult with the amount of information you’d be sorting through now. Shouldering your gun, you started pulling open different drawers to see if any of them held any important documents you needed. You pulled out any files with names that stuck out and laid them down on the table behind you. The stack stayed relatively small, which surprised you. Ghost and Soap were still in the main area, scoping every corner to look for any stragglers that might’ve been hanging around.

You’d been so in your head you hadn’t noticed the man slipping out of the closet closest to you, gun raised. The sound of the safety is what caught your attention, spinning around to face him.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Your body was thrown back against the filing cabinets, pain spreading throughout your body like a wildfire. Ghost slammed into the room, knife wedged into the kids throat before he could even react. You pressed your hands against your thigh, and abdomen, wincing at the blood seeping through your fingers.

“We need evac!” Soap threw himself down beside you, hoisting you into his arms as gently as he could.

“Get her outside, now.” Ghost wanted the man at his feet to suffer, but he’d already bled out in the few minutes it took them to gather the files and get you outside.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open, eyes half lidded as you struggled to take in your surroundings. Price was barking out orders, more concerned with keeping you safe and alive than getting the information back. How could they have let someone slip through their fingers and get to you? It wasn’t until they’d placed you in the heli that the pain seemed to really set in. Ghost’s hands were pressed against your thigh, Johnny cutting off your tac vest to get to the wound in your abdomen. 

“Make it stop!” Your throat felt raw with the guttural scream you let out.

The pain was unbearable, and this wasn’t the first time you’d been shot before. There would always be wounds, times where someone wasn’t quick enough to warn you. This? This was hell incarnated. Your body was turning cold, fingertips and lips turning blue as your heart rate plummeted. Soap and Ghost watched as the heart monitor flatlined, your body limp on the bed in front of them.

“Goddamnit! Open your eyes!” Price was screaming above the sound of the helicopter blades, frantic.

Price threw off his gloves, beginning CPR as they hooked up another blood transfusion. If they weren’t able to get your wounds to stop bleeding they wouldn’t be able to save you. Gaz’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking, pressing more gauze against the angry wound on your thigh.

“You better come back or so help me.” Price’s voice cracked with each press of his hand.

The subtle beep of the heart monitor relaxed him for only a second before he shifted to help get the bleeding to stop. They needed to get you somewhere where a doctor could help take care of you, now. Soap’s hands were shaking as he pressed another wad of gauze against your abdomen, they couldn’t lose you.

“Stay with us darling.” Gaz began to thread a needle, glad the bleeding had slowed for the few precious seconds he had.

You didn’t so much as flinch as the needle made contact with your skin, they only had so long before you bled out and lost the battle your body was fighting. Gaz worked as quickly as his hands, and your body, allowed him to. He glanced over to Ghost when he finished stitching the smaller of the two wounds. Ghost’s hands were covered in your blood, sinking into the cracks that adorned his flesh.

“Lift your hands, I need to close the wound.” Gaz wasn’t sure where the medic was, but right now he was downright pissed they hadn’t been nearby.

Ghost didn’t want to move, to watch you die in front of his eyes. It was all his fault anyway, he hadn’t noticed the man slip into the room and shoot you. He’d been too distracted checking the other rooms, checking each corridor carefully. Gaz worked quicker with the wound on your leg, knowing they’d need to cut the stitches to get the bullets out back at base. Right now all he cared about was making sure that you stayed alive.

“We’re almost there darling, just keep holding on.” Price grabbed your hand, noticing how limp your hand was in his own.

They all sat around you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly, keeping an eye on the heart monitor they’d hooked you up to. The hospital felt too far away, how could they have not arrived yet? 

“Landing now, brace yourselves.” Nikolai knew he had to be gentle, or at least as gentle as he could be while landing a helicopter.

Your body jostled for a brief moment as they finally landed, the doors sliding open as Ghost and Soap started to yank off the IV’s and heart monitor. It wasn’t the safest thing to do considering the state you were in, but goddamnit they needed you to get inside. Ghost slipped out of the helicopter first, grabbing the end of the gurney closest to him. Soap helped slide the gurney out before grabbing the opposite end. They ran into the hospital, screaming for any doctor or nurse that was willing to listen. No one seemed scared or phased by the two, rushing over to take the gurney you were lying on.

Ghost knew his mask was wet, tears streaking down his cheeks as he watched the doors to the operating room swing closed. Soap was no better, chest shuddering as he tried, and failed, to keep his composure. Gaz and Price made their way in slowly, they’d known where you were, and now it was a waiting game.

1 Hour

2 Hours

3 Hours

4 Hours

5 Hours

6 Hours

7 Hours

8 Hours

That’s how long you’d been in surgery, eight fucking torturous hours while the team waited to see if you would even make it out alive. The surgeon had walked out slowly, surgical gown covered in your blood. Soap’s heart sunk, they’d been too late, you were gone.

“We were able to stop the bleeding and get them stable. Unfortunately there’s going to be a long road of recovery ahead, they have five broken ribs on top of the gun wounds.” Price nearly burst into tears at that moment, thankful you’d survived, but horrified at how much worse things were.

“Thank you doctor, is there any chance we can see them?” He wouldn’t push if they said no, your health was number one priority right now.

“Yes, but be advised they probably won’t be awake just yet.” She gave them the room number before heading off to strip off the reminder of what she’d just had to do.

Price and Gaz took off like rockets, eager to prove to themselves that you did in fact make it out of surgery. Soap was much slower to follow, Ghost staying rooted to where he was until Soap had made it to your room. Price was sitting at your bedside, both hands gently cupping one of your own. No one would ever mention the tears that were sliding down the captain's face, soaking into the beard on his cheeks. No one would say anything about how these normally stoic and strong men were brought to their knees knowing you were only clinging to life.

“Gave us quite a scare, darling, try not to do that again, that’s an order.” Price’s laugh was thick and wet, clearing his throat to try and help stop the tears.

“Not allowed to leave us just yet there sweetheart, not until you’re old and gray.” Gaz knew you could hear their jokes, even if they fell somewhat flat.

Soap couldn’t go into your room, couldn’t see you knowing that he still had a chance of truly losing you. You two were thick as thieves, pulling pranks on everyone at base, except for Price of course. He’d welcomed you to the team with open arms, saying he was happy there was someone new he could talk to. Price had told him, in no other terms, that you would still need to befriend all of them. You’d done so within a week, getting to know everyone and seeing how they worked best. It gave you an idea of how they would be in the field, who to stick with for which missions, and who worked better alone.

Ghost was someone that was a little harder to crack, you didn’t want to pry into someone who was clearly trying to stay hidden. Everyone had a past, it came with the territory, but knowing that he was working so hard gave you the push to not push. It took him nearly six months before he opened up to you, telling you everything. It had shocked you, not only because Ghost didn’t trust anyone whatsoever, but that he told you everything about his past. His traumas that had sunk so deep they were embedded into his very being. His soul had been tainted by the actions of other people, something he would never be able to clean.

The first time he’d taken off his mask in front of you was also the first night you’d kissed him. He’d let slip that his body wasn’t the only thing that barred scars, that he had to keep his face hidden to hide the horrors. You had whispered that scars made a person who they were, that with or without them, that person was still beautiful. It was the scar extending from just next to his nose, through his lips, down to his chin. 

In a way it was beautiful, this man who had killed to keep himself alive had a constant reminder of what happened to him. He’d never let it win, never let the horrors of his past be what tore him apart until he succumbed to death. You cupped his cheeks gently, lips pressing softly against his. You could barely feel the scar beneath your own lips, hands sliding so they were gently cradling the back of his neck. Ghost had also told you his real name that night, Simon Riley. You giggled and told him both his callsign, and his real name suited him. Though you had been a little shocked to find out that he had been a blonde.

“I show you my face for the first time, and your biggest gripe is my hair?” It was a soft blonde, a ting of yellow running through the tips.

“I honestly thought you’d be a brunette, pretty brown eyes and all.” You oh so gently gripped the base of his hair, straddling his thighs carefully.

“Ma thought so too, unfortunately my daddy was a blonde.” Ah, of course, men tended to take after their dads.

“Well, I still think you’re very attractive, blonde hair and all.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, sighing into it as Simon’s hands squeezed your thighs.

“She’s gonna be alright, I swear on it.” Soap wasn’t going to lose his best friend, he’d sell his own soul to the devil to fight it if need be.

Ghost couldn’t bear to look at you, to see how lifeless you looked after everything you’d been put through. He turned and stormed off, boots echoing in the nearly empty halls. Anyone who knew him would know he could walk in even the loudest shoes silently. Even with you being so close to death Ghost was still being considerate of those around him. You would joke about how often he scared you, how someone of his size and stature shouldn’t be silent. It was a habit he’d picked up after promising not to scare you anymore

Gaz had thanked you immensely for it, saying how he’d nearly pissed himself on a few occasions because Ghost had slipped into the room unnoticed. You’d played a few pranks with him, mainly scaring Soap and Gaz, or even new recruits that got too cocky. Even if he hadn’t been their superior the man was still intimidating. He never did it to you again though, ignoring your chances to try and ask why he’d stopped. It wasn’t because you’d asked nicely, or that Soap had told him one day that it kind of bothered you. No. It was simply because he truly felt comfortable around you. It had been so long that he didn’t feel as if he had to have the impenetrable walls up, ready to let you in.

He was going to tell you he’d loved you, wanted to wait until you were safe back at the base, but then he’d be the exact fucking reason you were here. Ghost was a lot of things, but an idiot was not one of them. He could spot an enemy without so much as glancing at them at times, so how had this one slipped by? He would’ve heard their shoes stepping on the broken glass that was scattered around. Or had this person already been in the room, hoping you had been one of them instead?

The had chilled slightly as he stepped outside, reaching into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. You had jokingly teased him about how they would kill him before any enemy could. And well, he’d actually laughed at that, because he kind of hoped the cigarettes would kill him first, then he wouldn’t have to let you down. He would be by your side when he passed, but life had ulterior motives.

He hadn’t even realized the first stick was gone until he was halfway through smoking the second one. It was a horrible habit he couldn’t break, you didn’t mind that he smoked, but it was the chain smoking that seemed to get to you. It only happened when he was extremely overwhelmed, or was self destructing. Ghost didn’t want to let you down when it happened, but it was the only thing that ever seemed to truly calm him down. He’d wanted it to be you, to have you be the salve his soul desperately needed. Nearly half the pack was gone before he finally stopped, stubbing out the final cigarette in the small dish beside him. He wasn’t sure if that’s what it was meant for, but he wasn’t about to litter.

“She’s awake, asking for ya lt.” Soap was wringing his hands together, creased leather squeaking in the quiet night.

“Go ahead, I’ll be up later.” Ghost couldn’t see you yet, not when his mind was thinking of a million different ways he could still lose you.

“I’ll save you a chair.” Soap patted his shoulder gently, he knew the older man was too tense, but there wasn’t anything he could do.

The only thing they could hope for was that you would make it through these next few days with no issues. Gaz had told them right away he’d stitched you up, not wanting to waste any seconds until you were in safe hands. They told him you were lucky, that if he had waited even a moment too long you wouldn’t have survived. It was a reminder how fragile life truly was, that you could be gone at any second. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone that not seeing Ghost hurt more than you expected.

“Thank you, for everything.” You squeezed Gaz’s hand, smiling at the way his eyes teared up.

“Just wanted to keep my favorite sergeant alive and well.” Gaz patted the back of your hand, laying it down gently in your lap.

“We all know that’s Soap.” Your grin widened as Gaz scoffed, you couldn’t laugh lest you suffer in more pain.

Price couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped through his lips, he would laugh for you since you couldn’t do much besides lay in your bed. The three of you were unaware of Soap and Ghost standing outside the door, watching you. Soap could feel his heart quicken, seeing your eyes truly open and shining with a light he was afraid would slip away. Ghost’s hands were shaking, he wanted to kiss you like it was the last thing he’d do. Price was trying to keep you smiling, to keep the worry from settling in.

Ghost pushed every rational thought from his mind as he pushed the door open, standing at the foot of your bed before he could stop himself. You looked over at him, eyes wide as if you had forgotten he was on the mission with you as well.

“I love you. I absolutely fucking love you Y/N, and watching you nearly die today reminded me that I could’ve lost you before I got the chance to tell you.” Ghost’s chest was rising and falling harshly. You opened your mouth to speak before he held a hand up, effectively cutting you off.

“I’d never gotten as close to someone the way I did with you, you brought out a side of me I haven’t seen since..since before everything.” Ghost swallowed harshly, reaching up to pull off his mask.

You could see the way his cheeks were streaked with tears, the eyeblack he wore underneath smudged and missing in spots. This was someone who hadn’t even told his captain about his past for over two years, hiding away the darkness that sat within him. Here you were, an angel sent from heaven to watch over him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you today, I will never forgive myself for letting you get hurt.” He dropped the mask onto the bed, hands wrapping around your ankles.

The room fell silent, the only sound being the heart monitor you had been hooked up to. Your heart hadn’t spiked at all, your breathing calm.

“I love you too Simon.” You wiggled your toes beneath the blanket, the tips of your toes pressing into his forearms.

The other three men would deny that they teared up at Ghost’s declaration of love, that they had all watched how much Ghost truly loved you. How he had slowly, oh so slowly, slipped out of his shell to show you who he was. He smiled down at you, the right side of his lip drooping ever so slightly due to his scar.

“‘M gonna go to bed now.” You carefully pulled the blanket higher up onto your chest, snuggling with the soft material.

Ghost let go of your ankles slowly, watching the way you slipped into slumber so effortlessly. Though he was positive it was also the pain meds being pumped into your body, easing away the burning ache that was surely running through you. Price led Gaz and Soap out of the room, telling the two men he’d get rooms close by so they could keep an eye on you. Ghost wouldn’t move, no matter what, not until you were allowed to leave with him.

_________

His dreams were plagued by your death, each one becoming more vivid than the last, your blood staining his skin. He could taste copper, the salty rusted tang that blood always seemed to have. Times where he was the one pulling the trigger, mistaking you for an enemy as he took your life. He couldn’t seem to wake up, no matter how loud he screamed for his unconscious mind to wake up. It wasn’t until your fingers slowly began to run through his hair that he awoke, chest shuddering and cracking as he broke down once more. His chest heaved with wracking painful sobs. How could you still want to be with him? How could you possibly love him after what he’d done to you?

“You know, I always thought you had a softer side to you, something that no one got to see because you kept it hidden away from the world. And I was right.” You curled your hand slightly, running your nails across his scalp.

“Better than you imagined?” It was how Ghost coped, with dry humor.

“It is, thank you for letting me see it.” You continued gently scratching his scalp, feeling the way he slowly relaxed.

You knew that Ghost kept himself closed off for a reason, it wasn’t your typical “I got hurt by an ex and now I’m afraid”. No, this was something that wouldn’t be brushed off with a few kind words and a long hug. He would never be able to live his life without a reminder of what happened to him. And instead of turning him away when he’d practically begged you to, you smiled at him, and pulled him close to you. It was that day that you knew you were in love with him, but it wasn’t the time to voice those thoughts.

“Do you ever think about what happens after we die? If there truly is a heaven or a hell? Or if we reincarnate into new people?” You’d never given it much thought growing up, but this right here? This was a reminder that you were only human, and that life could be gone in the blink of an eye.

“Sometimes, stopped believin’ in all ‘at when I was a kid.” Ghost wouldn’t admit it had been when he was barely five years old.

No one wanted to be with someone that struggled to look at themselves in a mirror, to be reminded of the man that had beaten him so badly as a child. He was angry he’d grown to look like his father, save for his eyes, those belonged to his mother. The only thing he ever had left of her were his eyes. 

“I hope they have your eye color.” You slid your fingers down, grazing the edge of his jaw.

He sat up slowly, brow furrowed as he stared at you in the bed, did he hear you correctly or was he finally losing it?

“Excuse me?” Ghost’s jaw dropped open, your face was clear, so you were actually serious.

“I hope that our kids have your eyes, they’re this gorgeous shade of brown, like trees during fall in Massachusetts.” You’d spent quite a long time there, reveling in the colors when fall came around each year.

Ghost didn’t think before surging forward, pressing his lips roughly against your own, hands sliding back and gripping onto the roots of your hair. You grabbed onto his forearms, putting every ounce of strength you had into the kiss. Simon was the only man you’d willingly spend the rest of your life with, no matter how long or short that time might be.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley angst #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #angst #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost mw2 #mw2 #call of duty mw2 #blood #gore #cw gore

[writeforfandoms]

State of My Head 3

Find the series masterlist

Here we are folks! The final chapter! There will be a bonus scene soonish, so keep an eye out for that. But this is the last actual chapter, with the promised happy ending. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, injury, death of a minor character, swearing, shifter behavior, cat behavior, Gaz finally realizes he was an idiot.

Word count: 4.7k

You still hated the helicopter rides. Even though they were necessary. But you still huddled into your seat, holding tight to the grips. At least Gaz and Soap had stopped teasing you, most of the time. 

This op was a little less straightforward. They didn’t have as much intel on this location, which was why Price was sending you in first. There were supposed to be weapons, but there was no clear intel on how many weapons or exactly which kind.

That was part of your job. To find the weapons and report back. 

The heli landed and you hopped out, taking a moment to look around. You’d been dropped off away from the objective - there was a bit of a hike to the buildings. Apparently this was normal for them. 

You were just looking forward to shifting so you could run ahead. 

Price motioned for you to follow him, which you did. By now, this was routine. You weren’t combat trained, so you stayed in the middle of the group. This time, Gaz covered your back. 

Price halted in a good cover spot, and you immediately shifted. 

“Straight back here,” Price reminded you as you crawled out of your clothes, though he didn’t need to and you both knew it. By now, it was just habit.

You meowed softly at him and lifted one paw, tapping his boot twice. And then you trotted off towards your destination. 

The set of three warehouses were a bit removed from the road, big parking lots nearly empty. They had that dilapidated look about them, run down and tagged with spraypaint. They were set outside of town, far enough away that you doubted anyone would be able to hear things going on here. Good for the people of the town, at least. The route from Price’s chosen spot to the parking lots was covered in vegetation, trees growing tall and wild, bushes providing plenty of cover spots. A series of hills rose behind the warehouse, providing further cover. 

It wasn’t a bad location for a secret weapons cache, really. Unremarkable. Isolated enough to operate without suspicion, but still with easy access to a major road. Not bad at all. 

The chain link fencing around the area was new. Still easy enough to squeeze under. Sometimes you were glad you weren’t any bigger. 

The lack of outside lights worked in your favor, allowing you to get close. You paused outside to listen. 

Definite movement inside. Footsteps. Murmuring. The click of a lighter. A side door opened several feet from your hiding spot, letting out a guard, and you held very still.

“Think they’re gonna show?” The guard had an accent, sounded Russian to your ears.

“Boss thinks they will.” A second guard stepped out of the building, lighting a cigarette. This one sounded American. 

“What makes him so sure?” The Russian didn’t sound disbelieving, just bored. 

“Eh, who knows?” The American blew out smoke, rolling his shoulders. “Not like I’m the boss’s right hand man.”

The two both laughed at that, and you tensed. There was something wrong here, very wrong. Who were they expecting? 

A radio crackled on the Russian’s hip. “Got movement from the northwest,” someone reported in, muffled but audible. Also American. Northwest. You froze, not quite sure which direction you’d come from. 

“Guess the boss is right.” The American grinned, teeth very white in the darkness. “We better finish up if we wanna get in on the fun.”

“Assuming the snipers don’t get the bastards first,” the Russian agreed. “But who knows? They are supposed to be very good.”

“It’s the same assholes that blew up the cache two weeks ago. They’re good.” The American sounded almost eager, thirsty for bloodshed in a way that made all your fur stand on end. He put out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, free hand reaching over to smack his companion in the shoulder. “C’mon, man, hurry up.” 

You’d heard enough. You remembered the cache two weeks ago - Soap had come back exhilarated and smelling of smoke. 

They were expecting your guys. Somehow, they knew. 

This was a trap.

You bolted, running as fast as you could, no longer quite so worried about stealth. 

But you did pause outside the fence, because they’d mentioned snipers. Okay. Think like Ghost. Where would you set up if you were a sniper? 

A quick look found at least four spots you could check. After you warned the team. 

It took a lot less time to get back to them, since you were less concerned about stealth and more concerned about speed. Consequently, when you arrived in front of Price, you were panting. Shifting took only a moment, leaving you crouched in front of them. 

“They know,” you gasped, not giving them time to ask you questions. “Expecting you. Snipers, guards.” You waved back at the building.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

You nodded rapidly. “Heard two of them talking.” You swallowed against your dry throat, ignoring the chill of the night air against your skin. 

Price blew out a slow breath, gaze flitting between you and the buildings in the distance. The other three all stood still and silent, waiting on his orders. 

“Right. No use walkin’ in to a trap. Get back to exfil.” 

There was a ripple through the group, the tension of a thwarted op paired with the knowledge that they’d been given bad intel. You, at least, couldn’t think for a moment of anything other than the fact that if you hadn’t gone first, they’d have walked blindly into that trap.

You swallowed, glancing between them. Gaz was already reaching for your clothes, Soap and Ghost on alert. Price was not going to like what you did next. 

So you just wouldn’t give him a chance to yell at you.

“Meet you back there,” you said, and shifted. You were gone again before any of them could try to grab you, and you knew they couldn’t risk shouting after you. 

You ran ahead of them and veered off course. It was dark, but your eyesight was better in the dark than any human’s, especially shifted. So you saw the movement of a sniper, likely scanning for your guys. 

You launched yourself at the sniper, yowling. You were no bigger than the average housecat, but you had surprise on your side, and claws. He yelped as your claws dug into his shoulders and arms around his tac vest. A gunshot briefly deafened you, but rather than run off, you lunged for his hand, biting down as hard as you could. He dropped the rifle, swearing, trying to shake you off. 

You let go of him and ran again. You doubted he’d go after you, and you were too small a target to shoot at with any accuracy. Especially as you zigzagged away.

So you went on, following the sounds of a radio and check in calls. Your ears flickered, pinpointing the source of the noise, before you crept up. 

This one was a woman, tense and alert, scanning for enemies. Your tail flicked back and forth as you debated your approach. You could get to her hands first, incapacitate her. But you’d have to move fast, both to catch up with your guys and to not get shot. 

Her radio crackled again and she turned towards the sniper you’d already attacked. 

You leapt at her hands, scratching and biting. You thought it would work.

It sort of did.

She yelled and swore and swung away from you. But she didn’t drop the gun. 

Instead she swung it at the same time you jumped for her.

Pain burst in your side, sharp and sudden. You tumbled out of the air, landing on your feet and howling. For a moment you wondered if you’d be able to move, if you’d even be able to make it back to exfil–

“Fucking animal,” the woman spat, and aimed the rifle at you. You scrambled for cover, the shot so loud it hurt your ears. Warmth slid down into your left ear, muffling your hearing. Another shot and your back right leg buckled under a line of searing heat. 

A third shot. For a moment you expected to feel pain, to keel over. 

Instead the sniper went down, blood and brain matter sprayed across the ground behind her.

One of your guys must have shot her. Which meant they were still here.

Running was immediately out of the question. Your ribs shifted, and that crunching feeling should probably be very concerning. Your injured leg didn’t want to hold your weight. 

Leaving you to limp along on three legs, woozy, struggling a bit to breathe. There was no way this was going to end well for you. 

A soft call of your name had you jerk, swaying a little on your feet, before you looked up at Gaz. He hissed out a soft curse, scooping you into his arms. You did your best to not make pained sounds, and failed. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, holding you securely even as he ran back to join the others. “You could have been killed!” 

“You’re explaining that later,” Price growled, ushering Gaz into the heli before him. “Damned foolish.” 

You managed a weak meow, shaking your head, trying to unblock your ear. Blood spattered across Gaz’s front and the seat, but you could hear better at least. 

“Fuck,” Gaz breathed, buckling in quickly. “Cap, should we–?” 

“I don’t know.” Price sat next to him, also buckled in. A moment later the heli was lifting up, the faint lighting inside allowing you to see the captain’s jaw clench tight. “Not a damn vet.” 

The motors were so much louder as a cat, and you pinned your ears back, still sensitive from the gunshots. And then meowed pitifully at the sharp pain from your left ear. 

Price called your name, and you jerked your gaze to him. Your jaws had parted so you could pant, trying to get more air. 

“Shift back,” Price demanded, firm tone mostly masking his concern. “We can’t help you like this.”

You thought about that for a moment. Shifting was going to suck. Your ribs were almost definitely broken, and would not magically be fixed. Not to mention the sheer strain of shifting that much - coupled with the blood you’d already lost, there was a good chance you wouldn’t be able to stay conscious.

Then again, if you didn’t shift, there was no vet on staff. And it was a lot easier to bleed out as a cat than as a human. 

So you shifted, immediately gasping in pain at the jostling on your ribs, tears springing to your eyes.

“Easy, love,” Gaz soothed, shifting his grip on you to keep you securely against his chest. “What hurts?”

“Ribs,” you gritted out, shutting your eyes. “Ear. Thigh.” Your heartbeat pounded in your head and at your throat, far too fast. It was getting hard to focus. 

“Thigh is still bleeding,” Soap pointed out from across the way, frowning. 

“Yeah, spotted that,” Gaz gritted out. One big hand pressed a cloth down onto the seeping wound on your thigh, hard. You whined, hands scrambling for something to help anchor you. The heli jolted, not a lot, but enough to make you bite your tongue to hold back a shriek. 

It was too much - the burning in your ribs, the ache in your thigh, the pounding of your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered - you knew you should stay conscious. 

But it hurt, and it was hard, and you were less inclined to fight as the adrenaline left you. Shivering hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Hey, hey, don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Gaz sounded more panicked than angry. Someone wrapped a blanket around you, and you blinked slowly. 

Price nodded once to you, though he didn’t speak, since he was on the phone with someone else. Of course he was on your left - you couldn’t hear him quite right, things still muffled on that side. 

Trying to focus was way too much effort anyway. You just wanted to sleep. 

Vaguely, you could hear Gaz behind you, chanting, “No no no–” But it was too much to keep your eyes open, to ask him what was wrong.

Your eyes closed as everything faded. 

Soft, rhythmic beeping drew you out of sleep. Opening your eyes was a monumental task, one you accomplished in increments until you could see the boring white ceiling above you. 

Didn’t look like your room, though.

Huh.

You felt like you should be freaked out about that, but you felt too weighted down to get freaked out about anything. You blinked slowly, trying to remember what happened. 

The soft breathing in the room finally registered, and you blinked again and lifted your head. 

Gaz was asleep next to you, head pillowed on his arms at the edge of your bed. That looked uncomfortable. No way he should sleep like that.

But parting your lips to try to call to him just made you cough, your throat dry and scratchy as sandpaper. Coughing jostled your ribs, pain flaring bright and sudden, clearing the last of the cobwebs from your brain. With the side effect of tears leaking from your eyes as you tried to calm down. 

Big, warm hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin. “Easy, love, easy does it,” Gaz murmured, gaze flitting over you, as if he could do anything to help. “Best thing to do is to breathe normally, yeah?” 

You stuttered through the first few breaths, slowly calming down until you were relaxed again, Gaz still leaning over you. You blinked slowly up at him, lifting one shaky hand to cover his. 

“What happened?” You barely got the words out as a whisper, but you managed. 

“Water first.” Gaz released you with one hand, slowly, as if he was reluctant, and pushed a button to lever the bed more upright. He held the water for you, making it easy for you to just drink through the straw. 

You slow-blinked at him again when he set the water aside. That was better. Not great, but better. You tapped the back of his hand gently. 

“Right.” Gaz blew out a slow breath, gaze darting from you to the side table to the machines next to you. “You’re in a hospital, Price is wrangling the doctor. You remember getting shot, yeah?” 

“Thigh,” you agreed. 

“And the tip of your ear.” His fingers strayed, brushing against the left side of your head, which did feel thick and muffled. Huh. 

“Damn.” You huffed. “Gonna look like I got caught in a spay and release program.” 

His snort was surprised and a tiny bit wet. “That’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Still got my pride,” you mumbled, tipping your head a little to nuzzle into his palm. 

“Yeah, well.” Gaz cleared his throat. “You… almost didn’t make it, love.”

You blinked at him, feeling incredibly slow. “How?” 

“Not sure.” Gaz scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Guess you lost more blood than we thought, or something. But you were struggling by the time we got you here.” He swallowed hard, looking haunted. 

“Too many shifts,” you muttered, trying to grab him with your free hand, and then glowering at the tug and pinch of the IV there. “Must’ve drained me more than I thought.” 

“Have you been hurting yourself to help us?” Gaz sounded a little appalled, his gaze somehow more frantic as he looked you over.

You shook your head a little. “Doesn’t hurt,” you reassured him. “Normally not a problem. Just… takes energy.” You hummed softly, nestling your cheek further into the warmth of his hand, nose near his wrist. He smelled much better than the hospital room. 

Gaz huffed softly, shoulders relaxing again. “You’ve got stitches in your leg,” he murmured. “And a few broken ribs.”

“Called that one.” You fought to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his gaze, the feel of his skin on yours. Didn’t want to go back to the distance he held you at. 

“It’s okay if you wanna sleep more,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You need to heal.” 

“Don’t wanna sleep.” You nuzzled into his palm again even as your eyes closed against your will. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gaz murmured, low and solemn, like a promise. “Just rest, love.” 

As stubborn as you wanted to be, you obeyed, his scent soothing you back to sleep. 

He was still there when you woke next, as was Price. This time, you felt less groggy, but definitely still not normal. 

“We will have a conversation about that stunt,” Price said as soon as your gaze focused on him. “When you’re not stuck in bed.”

“Joy,” you drawled, though you relaxed a little at the knowledge that you weren’t about to be reamed. Not yet, anyway. 

“Another few days here and you should be fine to come back to base.” Price tipped his head, watching you carefully. 

“‘Kay.” You grimaced as you tried to breathe deeper, the ache in your ribs reminding you why that was not a good idea. 

“That’ll take a while,” Gaz murmured sympathetically. “Ribs are the worst.”

“Be easier as a cat.” But you just made a face, displeased with the prospect of months of recovery. 

“After the stitches come out,” Price interrupted, giving you a stern look. “Not before.”

“I know.” You couldn’t help but pout a little. 

Price snorted. “Get some rest,” he ordered, taking a single step forward to pat the top of your feet. He shot a look at Gaz that you couldn’t decipher before he turned and left.

Leaving you with Gaz again. 

“How’re you doing?” Gaz shifted closer to you, his knees knocking into the side of the bed. 

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him. Now that you were less out of it, the sudden closeness and concern were… odd. You knew it was him, you knew his scent anywhere. Even in your sleep. Had he hit his head at some point? No, Price wouldn’t let him get away with not getting that treated. 

“What?” Gaz blinked at you, gently curling his hand over your free hand. 

“You’re… different.” You stopped yourself from saying more. Kinder. Softer. More like you remembered from the beginning, when you’d decided he was your person. 

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at your linked hands. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I, uh. I’m sorry. Been a real ass.” He rubbed the back of his neck, managing to look up at you from under his lashes. 

You slow-blinked at him again, resisting the urge to headbutt him. For multiple reasons. Not least of which because it would hurt to move. “Coulda been worse.”

“You’re not supposed to excuse my shitty behavior.” Gaz frowned disapprovingly. 

You shrugged and then hissed as your ribs reminded you that yes they were still broken. “It didn’t change anything.” 

Gaz looked at you like you were a little crazy. “What do you mean?” 

“Well.” You licked your lips and swallowed. Your turn to be nervous. “I wouldn’t have… I mean, I still… Hm.” You pursed your lips. Damn humans for being so insistent on words. Any cat would have known by now! 

“You still… what?” Gaz leaned closer, eyes focused on you. 

Soap saved you from having to explain, waltzing into your room with water and pudding. “Price mentioned ye were finally up! How ye feel, hen?” 

“Alive,” you grumbled, tilting your head to look at him. “You brought food?”

“Just some pudding.” He offered it up and even opened it for you. Because he was a good friend. 

“When are these bandages coming off?” you asked in a grumble, already annoyed at the reduced hearing in your left ear. 

Soap shrugged. “Couple more days. Leg will take longer.” He tipped his head. “Why?”

“Wanna see how bad it looks.” You grimaced. You were a cat, after all. You had some vanity. 

“Badass, more like.” Soap reached over to touch you, paused, and redirected his hand to very gently pat the top of your head instead. 

“Not made of glass.” You looked down at your lap, scowling a little.

“Hen. Broken ribs suck. Ah ken.” Soap crouched so he could catch your gaze. “Ye’ll hurt for months. No need to go lookin’ for more hurt.”

You blew out a breath and then winced. Okay. Right. “Good point,” you admitted. 

Soap grinned. “Has this dafty even tried t’ keep ye entertained?” 

You blinked at Soap. “Uh. Define entertained.”

“Means no.” Soap reached over you to swat Gaz’s shoulder. You half-expected them to devolve into tussling - you’d seen it happen before. But they didn’t, this time. Instead Soap snagged another chair, pulling it up to your bedside with a flourish. “Right! Have I told ye ‘bout my sisters?” 

The days passed slowly, but they passed. The hospital was boring. But you did rest, because you were forced to. Gaz was there every time you woke up, even in the middle of the night. Trying to get him to go had earned you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen, and you were a bit ashamed of how quickly you caved to him. 

Which was part of the whole problem, really. He was still your person, even if you weren’t his. 

Gaz was the one who helped you from the bed to a wheelchair to make it out of the hospital. Gaz was the one who sat in the backseat with you, helping brace you and talking you through the pain of every bump in the road. Gaz was the one who brought you back to your room, who sat with you and insisted you boss him around telling him what you needed. 

Honestly, it was baffling. Completely baffling. It still felt a bit like he’d been replaced with a pod person, or something. (Except your nose would’ve picked that up.) 

The bandages around your head finally came off, and you examined the rough half-circle taken out of the top of your ear, completely silent, while Gaz hovered over your shoulder. 

“It’s not bad,” you grumbled at last. “Still looks like I got caught by a spay and release program.” 

“Have you ever?” Gaz held your gaze in the mirror.

“No one ever caught me,” you said with a haughty sniff, lifting your chin. “Until you. All. You all.” 

Gaz drew in a deep breath, his hands settling very carefully on your shoulders. “We never finished our conversation.”

“Which one?” You didn’t quite have to feign ignorance - you’d fallen asleep talking to him more than once, recently. 

“About what a shit I was.” He paused. “And why you’re so eager to sweep it under the rug.”

“Oh. That.” You swallowed, gaze skittering away from him. 

“Yeah, that.” He shifted closer to you. 

You hummed a soft note, not quite sure how to get out of this conversation, not sure if you should. Then you sighed softly. “For the record. You are an idiot.” You clenched your jaw and then released it. “If you were anyone else, I’d hold that against you for a long time.”

“What about Price and Ghost?” 

“Trust me, I’ll be reminding them that they hated me and use it to my advantage.” You smirked. “Cats have long memories when we want.” 

“So why aren’t you holding it against me?” 

And therein lay the problem. You fidgeted, making a face. “Alright. So. There is one major way we differ from, say, house cats.”

“Okay…?” Gaz looked bewildered but rolled with the apparent change of topic. 

“We choose one mate for life. Usually the female chooses. ‘S why Mama’s the matriarch.” 

Gaz blinked and then his eyes blew wide as he breathed out your name. 

“I made my choice three days into my stay here.” You forced yourself to hold still, to hold his gaze. 

“You… But… Even when I…?” He looked… a little devastated, a little hopeful. Pained, definitely.

“Yes.” You shrugged carefully. “The whole damn time.” 

Somehow, you weren’t quite sure how, Gaz managed to move around you, getting to your front and kissing you, soft and sweet. His fingers trembled against your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, moving back just enough so he could speak. “I’m such a damn fool. You nearly died and I–” His breathing hitched. 

“Easy,” you murmured, lifting one hand to cover his. “I’m okay.” You paused. “Well. I will be okay.” 

“Made me realize what an idiot I’d been,” he continued, pressing his forehead to yours. “Made me realize I love you.” 

Your breath caught, your eyes going wide. “You… do?” 

“I do.” He huffed, breath warm against your lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“Already forgiven.” You smiled slowly, carefully nuzzling his cheek. “Told you. Can’t hold a grudge against my person.” 

Gaz smiled. "Feel like I should scold you for being so forgiving about this, but it works to my advantage." 

You chuckled and then winced. Right. Ribs. "I'll be happy when those stitches come out," you grumbled, glowering down at your leg. 

"Just a few more days," Gaz soothed. "Are they bothering you? Itching?"

"No. I just want to shift." You made a face. 

"You don't like being stuck, do you?"

You swallowed hard, because that was… a little too accurate. "Right." 

Gaz kissed you again soft and slow and sweet. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, you'll give me a complex." But you smiled, leaning in very carefully to nuzzle his cheek. "Just don't do it again. My forgiveness has its limits."

"Promise I won't." He kissed you again, apparently unable to help himself. 

Not that you were complaining. 

Your only real complaint was that anything more was out of the question. For the moment. 

Gaz held your hand as the stitches were removed. The on-base medic gave you some advice (that you didn't actually pay attention to) before leaving. 

You waited until the door was shut to shift. It hurt. It hurt more than you expected, left you panting softly. 

But you were once again on four paws. Much better. 

"You alright?" Gaz crouched down to be on your level, concern clear in his eyes. 

You chirped and licked the tip of his nose, smug. This felt much better. 

He chuckled quietly. "Can I pick you up?" 

You chirped again, walking carefully closer to him. Walking hurt, but not as badly as when you were human. 

It took a little figuring out, but Gaz picked you up and cradled you against his chest, one arm securely under your paws. You started purring immediately, rubbing your cheek against his chest. 

The only times he put you down the rest of the day were when he absolutely had to.

Best of all? He went back to hand feeding you, grinning through the teasing from Soap. 

You purred the entire meal. 

Finally, he headed back towards your room for the night. "You ready for bed?" He asked softly. 

You mrrped at him and tapped his hand. He blinked down at you. You looked very carefully down the hall, towards his room. 

"You… want to stay with me?" 

You chirped an affirmative. 

"Well… alright. Just for tonight." He continued down to his room, setting you gently on the bed. 

You gave him privacy to change for bed, padding up to his pillow to lay down next to it. Curling up was a no-go, so you laid carefully on your uninjured side. 

Gaz settled down with you, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, love."

You closed your eyes, purring gently. There was no way you were just staying in here tonight. If you had your way, you'd never go back to your room. 

You could be very persuasive when you wanted.

#state of my head #shifter au #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader

[sofasoap]

Lastochka - in the hanger

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: You miss the intimate sessions with your husband after all the hectic missions and life. you decided to seek him out in the hanger.

WARNING: Explicit. Smut. Sub/Dom relationship. Safe words used. safe sex. Talk of consent.

per usual, half sleep brain when read through, might have lot of mistakes.

A/N : got so inspired by Nikolai's appearance in the MW 3 game, my smut brain just switched on. ( don't worry. No mention of spoiler. and its deviating from canon anyway. STUFF YOU CANON. )

Thanks to my moots keep feeding me with smutty ideas to add into the fics. you know who you are.

Lastochka series

masterlist

“Hello Commander.” 

Nikolai’s hand stopped in the track. Putting his tools down,he turned around and looked down from the top of the helicopter. 

The overly exaggerated smile, the way you carry yourself, hands behind your back, swing your body left to right, battering your eyes. 

He cocked up an eyebrow.  You are plotting something. He knows his wife well. 

And you are calling him COMMANDER. You definitely want something from him.

Perhaps something he might like too.

“Something I can help you with, my dear Lastochka?” He asked you in a lighthearted tone as he walked down from the steps, wiping his hand on the rug. Throwing the spanner down into the toolbox and swagger towards you.  You flash him another bright smile as you walk up towards him to meet him near the workbench. 

“I am just here to remind my dear husband to take a break.” you brought out a flask and a container from behind your back. “You've been on this since early morning. I just thought you might want something to snack on.”

“And stealing my jacket at the same time??” he asked as he nodded at you, licking his lips.He would be lying if it didn't make him a bit possessive and his cock twitch seeing you draped in his oversize jacket. He loves seeing you wearing his clothing, both in public and private. Subtly showing everyone that you belong to him. 

You pouted. “I didn’t steal it.. I’m just borrowing it. Do you want it back? It’s getting a bit hot in this anyway.” Putting down the containers and flask onto the workbench, you start to unzip the jacket, ready to take it off. He immediately grabbed your hand to stop you. 

Oh, his bold little bird. 

“What’s the matter?” your eyes widen with a fake surprise tone of voice. Tilting your head slightly as you extract your hands from his grip, you look up into his eyes and put your arms around his shoulder.

Nikolai exhaled, eyes dropping down towards your exposed breast, before flicking back up. 

"I'm trying to get this heli fixed, little bird." he warned in a husky voice. But his hands betrays him as it wanders towards your ass,  lightly grabbing it. 

"I’m sure you will need a break sometime.. "You smiled innocently at him while playing with his hair. Pushing your body closer to him, you slid your hand down towards his crotch, palming his arousal.

“And there is no one around at the moment….I thought..”

“You thought you could seduce your husband into giving you a good pounding while he is all sweaty and hot.” Nikolai smirked as he finished your sentence. “Don’t worry my gorgeous little bird, My cock is always hard and ready to please the wife at any time.”

“Nikolai!” you pouted, hitting his chest, pretending to be all appalled. 

“I am right, aren’t I?” Nikolai leans down, ghosting his lips over yours. “Just say the word, my Lastochka.” 

Grabbing his chain to close the gap for the kiss, tongues entwined. Your other hand fumbled to find his belt, unclipping it before reaching up and starting to unzip his flight suit. Nikolai pulls away and grabs your chin with his thumb and forefingers, staring down at you.

“Didn’t I say use your words?” He tutted. “Always the one asking for punishment. First for stealing my jacket.. Now not asking for permission…” 

You pursed your lip, letting out a little huff. “ Why do I have to…” 

“You walked all the way here, wearing nothing underneath?” he whistled. Your head rolls back as he kneads your breast with one hand, the other one working on undoing your pants before yanking it off from you. “So eager to please your husband?” he chuckled. 

“Because I am your COMMANDER, Lastochka.” he growled, cutting you off. “A good soldier listens to their superior. You should know better, Little bird. Now prepare to face the consequences.” he nudges your body, forcing you to walk backwards, nearly falling into the cabin of the helicopter if he wasn’t holding onto you. He gently guided you to sit before pushing you to lie down onto the floor.

Nikolai stood back up, unzipping his flight suit down to expose his fully erected cock. Sliding his belt off from his waist, he leaned forward, unzipped your jacket as well, to fully expose your naked body underneath. 

“As always….  “ you whispered an airy reply, eyes roamed up and down his body and opened your legs wide. “Your Lastochka is always ready for you..” 

Satisfied with your answer, he smiled as he picked up the belt that was discarded on the side before, and grabbed both of your hands and tied them together with the belt. 

“Word, my little bird?” 

You whispered the safe word into his ear and gave him a kiss on the cheek, granting him permission to proceed. You can feel his smirk as he turns his head to return a kiss. 

You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress a moan as Nikolai pushes your tied up arm over your head, dragging you forward by your leg to get closer. He thrust his hip forward, slowly grinding his hardened cock against your dripping pussy.

“Always so wet for me. What a good girl. Maybe I can make it wetter.” he cooed as he slid his gloved hand between, inserting his middle finger through the slit, curling it up to find your sweet spot.  You let out an unrestrained moan as he inserted another finger, and another, lightly thumbing your clit, but making no attempt to move his fingers inside you at all. 

“Move…I want.... Give me more..”  you hummed, bucking your hip, trying to get some thrusting movement to get the relief you've been craving for. 

“Where are you manners, Little bird?.” he scolded, pulling his fingers out. You whimpered and tried to move your arms from his restrain, but his grip only tightened.

“Please Commander..” 

“Please what?” 

“Please.. I want you to touch me … make me feel good.” you begged, almost sobbing.“ Please I want it back in..” 

“Good girl.” sliding his fingers back in, moving them in and out slowly few times, before he starts to speed up.  “See? Being polite gets you what you want.” he cooed.

There is something about making you squirming underneath him, looking at him with lust hazed eyes, mouth slightly parted, breast heaving up and down begging and whining for him to make you come hard makes him feel exhilarated.  That sense of satisfaction, knowing that its him, and only him, can make his beautiful sparrow unravel so easily under his manipulation. 

He can feel your walls tightening and breath starting to hitch. He knows you are getting closer to the peak. He leans over and nuzzles his nose against your neck, before biting and licking it. 

Arching your back, you couldn’t care less if someone else could walk into the hanger and hear the wanton scream as you hit the blessing high. He held you down with his arm and body as he kept pumping his fingers through your orgasm, cum drenching his glove and dripping onto the floor of the cabin. 

Holding up his hand, Nikolai slowly licks his palm, while staring into your eyes. “I only cleaned the floor yesterday. Now you have dirtied it again.” he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Looks like I have to give the source of the problem a good clean out…” 

Letting go of your hand, he starts shuffling down south of your body, dotting your hot and sweaty skin with kisses along the way until he reaches your cunt, still glistening with the juices that are weeping out. He flick his tongue on  your clit a few times before diving into it, sucking and licking in earnest. 

“Nik.. Nik…” you moaned, still sensitive from the orgasm from not long ago. “It’s.. it’s too much…please…” you squirmed as your tied up hands grabbed onto his hair, trying to ground yourself. 

He raised his head, eyeing you from between your legs. “Use the words,Lastochka, if it’s too much for you.”

You shook your head, sniffing, part of you wanted him to stop, but the lust won over, you just let your head fall back onto the floor, as he went back down to continue his work. 

The slurping, the sucking, the obscene wet sloppy sound  made you hit your second orgasm fast and hard, you let out a small yelp before everything went blank. You could only feel your legs shaking and Nikolai’s strong arm holding them apart, preventing it clamping his head. 

The sound of his deep chuckle pulls you back slowly to reality. Still dazed with your second orgasm, he pulls you up into the sitting position to straddle him, and kisses you lazily. The taste of your own sex strong on his tongue as he deepens his kiss. 

“Can’t let me do all the work by myself. Now, be a good little bird, time to please your husband with your nice little cunt.” he ordered after he finally pulled away from your mouth. He lifted your arms over his head, letting it rest on his shoulder as you let him help you to lift your body up from your still orgasm weakened legs. He stroked his hard cock few times, hand still wet with your cum, and guided you to drop yourself onto it. 

You loll your head down,leaning against his shoulder, letting out a long whiney moan as you feel him stretch you wide and hit the deep end all in one go. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, pulling you up by your waist before slamming you down again, letting out a satisfying purr each time he repeats the action.

“Ah, look at you my Lastochka,” he praised you as he started thrusting his own hip upwards.  “Serving your husband so well, clenching around my cock with your drenching hot pussy, making me happy.” The only sound you could make was a throaty whimper as you lifted your head from his shoulder and leaned away from him and rolled your hip, hands sliding from cupping the back of his head towards his neck, instinctively grabbing onto his gold chain as you try to get more friction against your clit. 

“Come on my pretty bird. I know you still have more in you.” says Nikolai as he glides one hand down towards your ass, and the other up towards your neck, grabbing onto it lightly. “Give me one more. Just one more….” 

“... not…not before you filled me up Commander..” you begged, nearly out of breath from getting so close to your next orgasm, trying hard not to tip over the edge. “I want you..you.. To come inside me first….” 

“Giving out orders now, are we?” he growled as pulls your body back in closer, pulling your head back slightly, grazing his teeth over the skin of your neck. “Remember who is in charge here, I decide when you cum, and where I want to cum.” he snarled as he punctuated his words with hard snaps of his hip. “But.’ he softened his tone slightly, “Since you've been an obedient girl before… I will let it slide this time.” he moved his mouth towards your ear, whispering in a husky voice. “Come for me now, right now. And you will get your fill. And more rewards later on if you are lucky..” 

Your body reacts automatically with his words. You sobbed as you spasm around his hard length, and you can hear him growling at the same time as he hits his own peak, coating your inside with his own spent, mixing with your own cum, feeling the wetness soaking both of your sexes and thigh as it leaks out with the thrust. 

“Feeling alright there little bird?”  Nikolai murmured into your ears as he held you tight against him, checking up on you after both of you held onto each other tight, recovering from the orgasm.

“I am alright.. Just give me a second.” You lean into his heaving chest, listening to his pounding heart. You close your eyes,  also trying to catch your own breath, with Nikolai’s hand caressing your neck. you were utterly spent after three consecutive rounds. It’s been a while since you had such an intense session with him. But you don’t mind it. 

“I miss this.“you whispered after a few minutes of silence, nuzzling into his chest. “You spend too much time with your other Lastochka. You need someone else to help you.”

You miss his touch. His hands, the dirty talks into your ears. the way his eyes undresses you and make you burn with want and desire. 

You miss him. 

“You know I don’t like anyone touching my Lastochka.” he kisses your temple. The double meaning doesn't escape you. “But I am sorry.”

“You better be.” you pouted. “Now you really need a break. After all that..”

“ I never need a break.” he chuckled, you feel his cock getting hard again inside you. “Not when I am trying to please my little bird.”

Well, the coffee is gonna get cold. 

“Commander, you there?  Here's the list you were….. Ёбаный пиздец!!”  

“ Ooop. Someone found us.”

“Nikolai!!!! Shut up and go check on poor Yuri!!” 

Yuri couldn't look at you in the eyes for weeks after.

Tag list

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan@roosterrr@preciouslittlecreature @gamergirlbones@whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes @deadbranch @celshideout @merkitty49 @abbeyrjm-blog @shyravenns @okamimarta

@jojoblossom,

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #nikolai reboot call of duty #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #heed the warning #read the warning first #nikolai call of duty

[barefoothighlander]

hiiii i love your work so much and i was wondering if you could please do something angsty where the reader is dating ghost and on the team and something goes wrong? like to the point where they are MIA and presumed dead for months? but they are found and ghost is so relieved and can’t believe that they’re alive (can be female reader or gender neutral i don’t mind 💛)

been in my feels recently so here’s some ghost angst

warnings: violence, grief, mentions of death, small mention of scars & blood, mentions of ptsd, smoking, gn pronouns (reader call sign is fox)

“Where are they?” Ghost bursts into Prices office

“Soap got back 10 minutes ago”

“And what about Fox, are they back?”

“Not yet”

“Not yet? Did they call in?”

“Comms fell through half an hour ago”

“So they’re out there blind?”

Price huffs a breath, nodding to Ghost, his face drops, you had been on a recon with Soap and it was going well until the two of you got ambushed and had to call for evac, Soap made it to the rendezvous point where the heli was waiting but you weren’t there, the enemies swarmed the checkpoint, you made the call for them to leave you.

Ghost loomed around base for hours, waiting, changing the channel on his comms every minute to see if you were talking, but it was radio silent.

“Let me go find them”

“Absolutely not Simon, there’s hostile everywhere I’m not sending you out to get killed”

“With all due respect Captain, it’s not your call”

“If you leave this base I will have you sent home son, the best we can do is wait”

Ghost stands still, his eyes staring down Price silently begging him to let him leave, but Price stays stern. He walks to the deck, standing outside the base his his back against the wall, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and lighting one.

He stands outside for hours, willing you to appear, to be safe, walking towards him with open arms, but his view is clear. No one on deck, no vehicles pulling in, there’s nothing.

Two months pass, two months of silence, Price had called the mission to an end two weeks after you were declared MIA, Ghost went back to an empty home. Everything was too quiet without you there, the bright lights of the house dimmed without your presence, Simon felt everything slipping away again.

He’d never prepared himself for the day he’d lose you, he’d lost everyone, everything, the pain of living without you didn’t even compare to that of losing his family, he felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. He barely slept, staying awake every night praying you’d walk through the door, when he did sleep he dreamt of you, your face resting on the pillow just inches from his, he dreamt of just holding you.

The scent of your soap still lingered on some old clothes, he’d sometimes grab a shirt and just hold it to his skin, imagining it was you there in front of him instead of a piece of cloth.

Within the second month he had cut all contact with the team, ignoring their calls and texts, he didn’t care for their words of encouragement or condolences, none of it made up for the fact that you weren’t there.

He felt guilty, he couldn’t save you, he blamed himself thinking about how he should’ve been there, he shouldn’t protected you just like he’d done in missions before. He blamed Soap for leaving without you, even if it was your call, he would’ve never left you behind no matter the circumstances.

It was all too much, he didn’t have enough time with you, an eternity still would’ve been too short, everything in him ached and longed for you, he just wanted one more moment, one more time he could tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you.

He refused to pack your things, not out of denial but because he refused to let you be forgotten, wherever you were, you’d be with him forever. He always made your side of the bed, he kept all your mugs next to his just like you’d done years before, everything in his life still looked as if you were with him.

His hope dwindled with each day, every night you were gone was just a higher chance of you never coming home to him, he checked in with base every morning to see if there was any news, everyday was the same, you hadn’t shown up.

72 days had gone by since you went missing, presumed dead but they hadn’t identified your body, at 4am Simon was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette when the ring of his phone echoed through the house, he assumed it was some call in for an op, begrudgingly dragging himself back inside to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Simon?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m with the Bayfield Emergency Hospital, we have a patient asking for you”

His heart dropped through his chest, he hung up his phone and rushed to his car, he was acting purely on adrenaline, every fibre of his being hoping it was you they found, that he wouldn’t arrive to someone else laying in a cot.

He’s speeding through the dark night, eyes darting around to check for police officers, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting to the hospital.

He pulls into the parking lot and rushes through the large glass doors,

“Where are they?”

“Who Sir?”

“The one that asked for Simon, where are they?”

“I need your full name”

“I- I can’t, please just tell me where they are”

“Sir I can’t let you in without the paperwork”

He slams his fists to the desk, “Please”

He sees two security guards from the corner of his, he retracts his palms stepping back, tears pricking his eyes as heat flushes his skin,

“Is he here yet?” A doctor asked, stepping through a sliding door

“Are you fox’s doctor?”

“Who are you”

“I’m Simon, are they in there”

The doctor looks hesitantly towards the nurse, “come with me”

His ears a ringing, the fluorescent lights above his head feel blinding as he makes his way through the series of hallways.

“They’re okay, a little banged up, it’s their mental state we’re worried about”

Simon looks through the small window on the door, you’re laying in the bed, your arms strapped to your sides.

“You can go in”

Simon takes a breath, nodding to the doctor before opening the door, he can see you better now, there’s cuts and bruises scattering your legs, dried blood on your skin all the way up to your neck, your face is flush, stained with tears.

“Fox?”

You turn your attention to him, shaking your head “No, no please, go away”

He moves towards you slowly, like a wounded animal as you thrash against your restraints, tears streaming down your face.

“Fox it’s me”

“Please, just let me go”

His hand ghosts over your arm and you flinch from the contact, Ghost turns to glance at the door before he takes his mask off, turning back to you.

“It’s me love, no one’s gonna hurt you”

“You’re not real”

He thinks for a moment, his fingers moving to undo one of your restraints as he kneels by your side, he lifts your hand to touch his face, your fingers trace over his scars.

“It’s me”

You let out a sob, Simon reaches to undo your other arm and pulls you into him, muffling your cries with his chest as he holds you.

“It’s okay, you’re home” He’s saying it to the both of you, your fingers clinging to his jacket.

He sits with you as you cry, his hands gently stroking your hair,

"I can't believe you're home" He whispers into your hair, his eyes watering as a small sniffle leaves his nose.

His hand holds yours close as you wait for the doctors to clear you, they tend to a few superficial cuts before letting you leave. Simon helps you slowly walk to the car, the ride back is silent, his eyes glancing over to check on you every so often before he pulls into the driveway.

You sit, staring at the house, he opens your door standing next to you, his arm extending to help you out before you make your way inside. It's all so familiar but different at the same time, everything is the same, the pictures on the shelves haven't moved, the flowers that sat in the vase now dried up and wilted, he kept everything the same.

"Let's go to bed" He says, his hands lightly cupping your jaw as he leans down to plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. You follow quietly behind him as he settles into bed, the mattress is soft under your body, a stark contrast to the environment you've been in for the past few months.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as his chin settles on top of your head, you're breathing in his scent, the warmth of his skin enveloping you just like you wished it had for so many nights. Simon's heart aches with every sniffle you let escape, all he can do is hold you.

"I love you so much Simon"

He takes a deep breath, hip lips pressed to the crown of your head, "Don't ever leave me fox".

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