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yawnderu · 6 months

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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part IV

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Simon doesn't cry. The last time he cried was out of shock, coming home to see his entire family executed by who he thought were his allies, his friends, his comrades. Simon doesn't cry, but you can see how broken his soul is in the way his hands delicately hold you close to him. You can feel it in the way his heart is beating fast in your ear, his lips pressing gentle kisses on the top of your head while you're barely conscious, too tired from the late-night conversation you had with him.

The man who broke you a year ago is the same man whose touch pieces your soul together, his warm hands doing nothing but serve as a reassurance that he's here. He's here, alive, and he's not going anywhere. Not anymore.

He waits until you're snoring softly to gently settle you back down in bed, taking one last look at your peaceful sleeping expression before getting up from bed slowly, leaving the room and walking in the dark towards his baby's room. He closes the door behind him, approaching the crib with footsteps so quiet one would think he's still the ghost, but he's not, not when he's here. He's just Simon.

"Hey, sweet girl." He greets in a whisper, leaning down in front of the crib to look at his daughter. What a fucking sight, he thinks; brown eyes focused on the way his tiny girl is holding a bunny plushie close to her, wearing the skull pattern pajamas he bought her a few weeks ago. Simon has strong genes— the baby looks like a girly replica of him, her dark brown hair framing her pretty face, nose slightly rosy from the cold. He adjusts her beanie, lifting the blanket enough so more of her body can be covered even while she's asleep. His hand hesitates when he feels the baby stirring awake, taking a step back before her brown eyes open, peering at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He whispers, afraid to wake you up even while you're an entire room away. His big hands reach out for the baby, cradling her in his arms as he walks around the house until he reaches the living room, not bothering to turn on the light to not bother his baby. She's calm— not crying, simply babbling as she looks up at him, her hands balled into fists, too used to holding something. Simon can feel her tiny nails digging into his bare chest, yet he doesn't mind, gently rocking his girl under the comfort of the dark living room, the moonlight illuminating enough so they can both look at each other.

"Papa." His heart almost stops when he hears the little girl say her first word, looking down at her with wide eyes and a proud smile. He almost thinks he imagined it until she repeats it louder, tiny hands pulling on his dog tags. His hand dwarfs the baby's head as he presses her closer to his bare chest, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of her tiny body against his. He never thought he'd be a father— hell, the idea itself never went through his head even when his family was alive, yet ever since he first saw his baby girl? Simon fell in love.

"Papa's here, Astrid." He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead, her tiny balled up hands now holding his cheeks and pulling slightly on the stubble, making him groan in pain, something she finds amusing, a cheeky giggle coming out of her.

"Gentle." He reminds her, pulling her away so she's not able to keep torturing his scarred cheeks. He smiles down at her, one of his hands coming up to gently pinch her chubby cheeks, another giggle coming out of the tiny girl. She’s an angel— rarely cries and is always giggling, her gummy smile full on display for anyone lucky enough to see her.

His pretty angel. A split image of everything Simon could have been if he had a normal family and rather than feeling bitter about it, he feels happy. Happy to be able to see her grow, to give her and you the life you both deserve, even if you're not together.

He lays down on the couch with the baby resting on his chest, the chain and metal of his dog tags enough to keep her distracted as he admires her under the moonlight seeping through the window, wanting to memorize every single detail on her tiny face. The pain of losing a second brother to him is still there, yet this tiny girl heals his soul and gives him hope.

Johnny would have loved you. He thinks as he looks at her, imagining Johnny playing with his baby. A quiet chuckle escapes his lips as he thinks of the tiny girl pulling on his mowkhawk, her bad habit of pulling on people's hair something he became too familiar with, his buzzcut not saving him from his baby's surprisingly strong grip. His mind inevitably goes back to his family, thinking of Joseph playing with his baby, of Tommy experiencing being an uncle, or Beth and his mum gossiping with you while looking at Simon, proud smiles in their faces. He can't help the way his eyes sting, slightly rimming with tears in the company of his baby.

His eyes close as he takes a deep breath, allowing a stray tear to roll down his cheek while the rest dots his long eyelashes. His hand plays with his little girl's hair, the other one firmly holding her close to his bare chest while she babbles on, her innocence a complete contrast to who he is.

"Mum?" He begins, eyes still closed and voice shaky.

"This is my baby, Astrid. She's four months old... lovely girl, ain't she?" He speaks quietly to nothing, imagining his mum is there, watching over him, a bright smile on her lips.

"I still haven't won her mum over, but I'm trying. I'm gonna marry this girl, mummy, I know I will." Simon doesn't cry, but his stomach muscles tense as he holds back a sob, not wanting to startle the baby resting on him. Her silence finally makes his eyes open, tear-rimmed circles of darkness softening when he sees the peaceful sleeping expression on his baby.

"I love you so much." He confesses in a whisper, his short nails gently massaging her scalp, his warm chest working as a personal heater for the sleeping baby. His back is starting to hurt but he's not going to risk waking the girl up, simply closing his eyes again and focusing on getting some sleep. With how badly he has been sleeping since he came back, he doesn't even realize when he drifted off to sleep, only being awoken hours later by the smell of pancakes and tea.

He looks down at his chest, finding a blanket covering him, but no sight of his baby. That's enough to send him in a panic, immediately getting up and looking around the living room, his fast-beating heart only slowing down once he sees the baby sitting on a highchair in the kitchen, your back turned to him as you hum and prepare breakfast.

"Bloody hell— you scared the shit out of me." He lets out a deep breath, trying his best to calm down as he starts walking towards you, one of his hands resting on your waist as you look over your shoulder and shoot him a cheeky grin.

"You scared the shit out of me when I saw the empty crib." He gives you an apologetic smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head and laughing as he narrowly misses the kick thrown to his arse.

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witchthewriter · 1 month

Note

Hey! I'm sorry to bother ya, but I saw that Requests were open, and I wanted to know, how would Simon react if they had a S/O with epilepsy, and he caught them having a seizure? You don't have to answer if you don't wanna, I thought I'd just ask! Have a nice day/night/evening, and don' forget to drink water and take breaks, breathe! Love ya, Hun!

tw: mentions of violence, blood, stabbing, angst, seizure, epilepsy and describing of seizures.

Simon had known panic. He had seen it in men's eyes as he thrust a knife through their ribs, knowing their death would come after.

Simon had known panic. He'd seen it in his fellow soldiers, even his fellow Task Force comrades. The way Soap's knee would bounce hearing the next mission. Or when Gaz's nose would flare for a moment before jumping from the plane.

But Simon had never known panic like this.

In the home you shared, with the couch you chose and the pillows you both 'fought' over, he found you.

Your body was uncontrollable, the way your face looked nearly made him drop to his knees. Bile rose in his throat. This was what filled his nightmares. He hadn't known how long you were like this; ten, twenty, thirty minutes? He had only run to the store. But in this moment he couldn't think straught.

It was like his soul left his body. Looking down on him from above, watching himself drop the grocery bags and rush over to you.

Simon checked your mouth: there wasn't anything in there. His soul, now following him, watched himself do everything he had learned in training.

"Come on love," he growled. Beads of sweat starting to drip down his face. Eyes focused so hard they started to blur.

"Please," he had gone through all the steps and now was holding your hand. Pleading both internally; to any gods that would hear him, to the universe, to your giardian angel.

And to you, yourself. To be strong. Because you were his, and he was yours and he could not go on without you.

"I love you goddamit," he grumbled, pressing her hand against his cheek.

Like a siren's song, Simon's soul slammed into his body as soon as you came to.

"Wha-" you started to get up but was held gently down.

Without a moments notice, Simon knew you needed to be calmed, to know where you are and who you were with. Cooing and soothing you, Simon moved the hair from your face and explained what happened.

When your eyes fully opened, you smiled up at him; you head in his lap, "Hey there, handsome," you said weakly.

Simon guffawed.

"You scared me to death! I thought, I though- fuck!" The tears starting to stream down his face faster now, happy and relieved. Safe. Safe. Safe. You were safe.

"Well I apologise," you said faintly. A small smile on your lips. a hand slowly coming up to cup his face.

"I love you too Simon."

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soullessdianthus · 9 months

Note

can i request ghost x reader, kind of like an enemies to lovers/hatefucking type situation 🫣 can be as kinky as you like. thank you <3

A/N: I'm living for this trope with Ghost! Because I believe he could be absolute douche sometimes, but at the end of the day, he would just drown you in sweet affection. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Warnings: enemies to lovers (idiots in love), implied age gap, angst???, smut (p in v, slow and gentle sex, unprotected)

Word count: 4.2k oops

It felt like literal eternity serving within the British Army. But in reality it’s only been three years since you enrolled. Since the very beginning of your personal excursion along the nine circles of hell, the devil was looming above your head – Lieutenant Riley.

God damn bastard.

Around a year ago Captain John Price was selecting only a few privates to see if any of the “fresh blood” was fit to join his special forces. You happened to be one of the lucky soldiers.

During this intense year of service you managed to get promoted to a sergeant, allowing you to be more independent during missions than a rookie or a private. To be honest, you were amongst the youngest sergeants out there in the army, along Soap MacTavish.

You were good. That’s what Price told you at the end of the selections. You weren’t as strong as men larger and taller than you, but you catch up in the different fields. Swift yet seamless in the way you moved, quietly. A good aim and fast ability to evaluate the situation.

Sometimes your biggest flaw was panicking during shootouts. Especially when your team was getting slaughtered, one by one and your cheeks were splashed with thick, warm blood. If not your slightly strayed aim and heavy breathing no one would even know.

You were extremely young for such missions Captain (or Laswell) sent you on, so honestly, the way your body reacted was a basic human reaction to such stress and trauma.

And there he was, a man soaked in crimson, his skull mask remaining untouched. Ghost walked right by you inside of the helo, when Soap tried to console you by nudging your arm.

You felt his dark eyes looking at you with scorn, disappointment maybe. Ghost never praised you, not once, even if you saved their arses. All of them.

━ Pull yourself together, sergeant. ━ Lieutenant snarled, before sitting down on the opposite bench.

━ Ignore him, lass. He’s just a grumpy sad man.

Johnny was more than right about Simon Riley being a sad man having a sad life. Perhaps that’s why he got so used to crushing each bundle of joy in his life.

You thanked God in situations like this, that there was always Soap or Gaz to ease the tension between Lieutenant Riley and you. Because no matter how much you acted unbothered and tough or how much you tried to ignore his hatred towards you, Ghost’s attitude was painfully scratching your heart.

Obviously you made some mistakes, all of them had. You were just humans at the end of the day. So whenever you tried to impress the others, looking out for friend’s approval, you were struck by his empty stare full of pity.

You hated to admit it to yourself, you never wanted to, but you couldn’t just treat him indifferently. There was some fucked up part inside of you that didn’t want to let him go. And it only brought more pain.

There was no logical explanation why Ghost despited you so much. You were humble about your job or abilities and overall polite (well, most of the time, lately you began to talk back to the grumpy Englishman).

But what you didn’t know was that Ghost was actually jealous.

He couldn’t stand how quick it was for someone as young and fragile as you to climb to the sergeant’s position. Ghost didn’t possess the features you had – the way you made friends so easily among the comrades, how you practically every time executed your job without a slip up or how you put a spell over Soap, Gaz and even Price. They were all fond of you.

Once, when you got hurt, Ghost couldn’t help but to trace the dripping blood from the cut on your cheekbone. The blood trickled down your soft skin over the curvature of your face, which he involuntarily found pretty for a woman. The crimson substance dripped down your chin and onto the cleavage of your shirt.

Simon swore, he could see your round, full breasts through the tight shirt. Only then he snapped back to reality. Since then he hated himself even more for casually showing such fragility. Ghost couldn’t let you be his weakness. The ghost had none.

But all you could see in this situation was that your lieutenant was disappointed with you. That you managed to get hurt on such an easy mission. “Such a failure in his eyes, am I?”, you thought to yourself.

The other time, when you followed him along the concrete wall, trying to flee the ambush, Ghost happened to be just too close to you. His broad shoulder touching you almost constantly.

His presence didn’t bother you, until the lieutenant's tight grip over your upper arm barely cut the blood circulation in the limb. He yanked you backwards so hard, you nearly stumbled.

━ Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? ━ Ghost growled in a raspy voice, making sure you weren’t shot. He brought you close to his own body, too close. You could feel the warmth of his body, almost welcoming you into embrace. Almost.

━ I got it covered! ━ His gloved hand snatched up to cover your mouth at once. Both of you stilled upon hearing the enemy walking past your cover. Simon retraced his palm only when he was sure the danger was gone. ━ You’re insufferable, Lt.

━ Congratulations, the girl finally noticed. You want some cheers or a confetti thrown?

━ Would like one actually ━ you agreed with a pathetic shell of a man, wasting all of the strength not to tell him to fuck off ━ but not from you. Let’s move.

Ouch, that had to hurt his fragile ego. But Ghost wondered why it actually made his blood boil. Why your little back talk got him riled up.

For years he got used to hearing insults or miserable comments from other soldiers. So why did he feel truly insulted when it came to you and your filthy mouth? He felt similar to a parent who failed to put their child into their place.

So he desired to torment you a little more. However, this decision ended differently than usual, when he toyed with you, mocking each aspect regarding your life.

This time you smacked him across his face, when you were back in the helo taking a few soldiers back to base. One too many malicious comments from the lieutenant and you snapped.

Of course you regretted being so carried out by emotions, but slapping Ghost across his stupid mask gave you a sense of relief. Bastard deserved that.

You were surprised when one of the women in the barracks told you that Ghost is asking for your presence in his office. That it’s urgent.

It has been a couple of days since “the incident” and since then you hadn’t been forced to spend time with him, not in the training area nor in the cafeteria.

You jumped out of your bed and pulled on the high trail shoes and stuffed the legs of your pants inside of them. There were many ideas coming to your mind, why he requested your presence. Perhaps, the little disagreement in the helo was too much. Maybe the Captain was there with him, ready to reprimand you for such disrespect towards the Lt?

Who knew, the only way to find out was to go and see for yourself. So you did.

The base seemed more empty than ever before, most of the soldiers being sent away on missions. Or on a training grounds, far from the main building.

So you walked with a steady pace down the hallway until your eyes managed to read the label “Lt Riley” on the doors. Before your hand reached for the handle, you acknowledged the state your body was in – wrist and slender fingers shaking, skin inflamed. Were you afraid of this confrontation? What was wrong with you?

A loud sigh left your mouth and your chest collapsed. You knocked twice and entered the office only when you heard his voice “come in”.

━ You wanted to see me?

━ Come, I might need your help ━ such foolishly selected words made your heart skip a beat. You closed the door behind and walked closer to where he was sitting. ━ Fill those just like the example here and then put them aside.

Ghost pointed to the one singular sheet of paper already filled out and your eyes wandered on the massive pile of those you were supposed to complete. The similar stack was on the lieutenant’s right.

━ And you can’t do it yourself? ━ You raised your brow, looking in a questionable way at him. Ghost sighed, rolling his eyes.

━ Can’t you just do what your told?

You grabbed the folding chair and set it next to the grumpy man. You carefully watched his reaction as you did so.

━ Soap wasn’t available?

━ He’s on a deployment, somewhere in Urzikstan ━ the man wearing a balaclava with solid skull sewed to it explained briefly. ━ Besides, I needed a woman to help me out with this.

━ Oh wow, didn’t know you were a sexist. ━ A surprised huff slipped out of your mouth, when you got comfortable on the plastic chair next to him. He sneaked a peek at your wiggling hips and felt a sudden wave of heat.

━ Fuckin’ hell ━ he cursed, passing you the pen. ━ You think Johnny or Gaz know how to sign their own name? At least you know how to write, yeah?

━ Look, you just said something nice for once.

A not so fake, but forced smile twisted your face as you accepted the pen he given you.

━ Don’t flatter yourself.

━ Nothing coming from your mouth is flattering, Lt.

Within the last spoken sentence you began filling the papers out just as he instructed. The task itself wasn’t difficult, just repetitive.

Minutes passed as you sat next to Ghost in silence. Only the sound of paper sheets being moved around intervened with the quietness. You unknowingly started to chew on your lower lip, distracting the man sitting beside you. But how could you know this, he just hummed from time to time, God knew why.

The tension between the two of you started to fade out as you felt more comfortable spending time with him. Work time of course, doing important things, but in a secluded room and all alone.

Your somehow guilty mind didn’t want to leave the business unclear, there was a need rooted inside of you that needed its explanation.

So you gathered enough bravery and finally spoke, breaking the silence.

━ You’re in a mood for talking, sir?

━ Not particularly ━ Ghost replied, eyes still glued to the documentation in front of him. ━ But since you addressed me properly… What do you want?

He was right. Maybe it was the first time you addressed him with “sir” since the beginning.

━ I’m not looking for trouble, alright? But, what is your problem? Why… ━ you paused for a second, your own gaze drilling into the pen you were gripping so hard between your fingers ━ are you so harsh to me?

━ What did you expect joining the military, eh? Would you like a special treatment?

━ An equal treatment would be great ━ you emphasized on the words, sinking further into a plastic chair. ━ See, you don’t even understand.

Why were you sitting there, listening to him taking out his bitterness on you? There was far more you deserve in life than this. You did nothing wrong to be treated as such.

━ I tried getting along with you, Simon ━ you continued after a moment of silence. You were so focused on the confusing feeling in your guts, that you missed the part when he stopped working to look directly at you. And the sadness painted on that pretty face of yours. ━ I really did. But you're pushing everyone away and that’s not my problem. So don’t dare take this out on me.

His short, but rough laugh echoed in your ears and blush of humiliations covered your cheeks. There was even a hint of you crying in a matter of seconds, but you kept your act together. That’s what he told you so often, right?

━ Jesus fuckin’ Christ. ━ The lieutenant muttered, your face twisted in pure anger.

That’s it. That was the fine line.

Suddenly you stood up, pushing the chair with the back of your thighs. It almost fell down with a thud, but you caught the backrest quickly, before it could actually happen.

Did he just laugh at you?

━ What the fuck is wrong with you?! ━ You let the emotions emerge to the surface, raising your voice at the masked man. But despite the wrong he did, what Ghost said to you, you couldn’t find a dash of hatred towards him. It made you feel sick. ━ Why do you hate me so much? I didn’t do anything wrong!

Ghost stood up from his own seat and out of the sudden his larger body caged you in between him and the solid desk. The Englishman placed his hands on both sides of you, over the countertop, taking away the possibility of you escaping. Slipping away through his fingers.

He pressed his chest and whole front of his body into your back. To your (and his) surprise, you didn’t even flinch. Ghost’s head was leaning next to your left ear. The significant skull mask staring directly at you.

━ I can’t stand your presence, sergeant. It makes my blood boil, especially when you laugh. Because it… ━ he paused, inhaling sharply through his teeth ━ you make me feel things. Though, I’ve no hatred towards you, Y/N.

A confusion overwhelmed your body, when he didn’t snap back or when he didn’t bother to be mean towards you further than that. Your heart was hammering inside of your ribcage.

All these months, he kept pushing you away with his repulsive attitude, just because Ghost didn’t want to allow anyone closer. His heart was cold, so how come you managed to stir something in him?

In a cold-blooded killer?

━ You’re better than me. All those atrocities we experienced, didn’t change you into a fuckin’ killin’ machine. A monster. Because you shouldn’t end up like me.

His right hand, not wearing any glove, slowly raised in the air until it reached your face. With the outer side of his palm and knuckles, the more scarred one, he caressed your features. The outline of your cheek and jaw, the curvature of your lips.

Your body instinctively leaned into his touch, into the tenderness it craved subconsciously. You would never imagine Ghost was capable of such intimate acts.

━ You’re not a monster, Simon ━ your mind was eased, yet body was inflamed with something more. The skin craved more answers, more clarifications. An assurance. ━ Just an idiot.

He chuckled softly, his chest tensing for a moment. You could feel it through the layers of clothes that separated you from each other.

His hand left the side of your face. The lieutenant removed his balaclava along with the skull mask. You knew it, because he placed it on the desk nearby, just in your sight. He was exposing himself to you. He wasn’t fucking around this time. He was serious.

━ Look at me.

Ghost tone was firm, a bunch of words sounding like an order. And like a good soldier you followed this one.

You slowly moved around, before leaning against the desk again, but this time you were facing him – Simon Riley himself. Not Ghost. Not a shell of a man.

His face was covered with many scars and memories, it was true, but you would never say that it mutilated him anyhow. He was still handsome, especially with his messed up blonde hair sticking to his forehead.

You didn’t even realize when the corners of your mouth twisted warmly at this sight. You couldn’t devour it for so long, because he grabbed both sides of your flustered face and pulled you into a passionate, deep kiss.

Something he was restraining himself from for so long. It became agonizing.

Your fingers shot up, surprised by the sudden grasp, filling the hollow depth between Simon’s knuckles.

This shouldn’t feel good, this should have tasted like a sin. He was in a way your superior, he was older than you and he made you believe you were his demise. Which in a way you were. He was ready to throw aside his grumpy mask, if that would make you smile more often.

Simon thought he would never expose himself like this, show his vulnerability to anyone. Until he met you.

The breathing between each kiss became a heavy panting – lovers stealing the air from each other. He has clearly shown how much he craved your closeness, the smell of your skin and the taste of your tongue. Something that was so prohibited for a long time.

━ I still can’t comprehend this, Simon. I really thought you hated me. You’re not playing with me now, are you?

You needed answers, you couldn’t just simply fall for his words. You were not a silly girl anymore. Maybe unintentionally, but during the last couple of months with such stupid behavior, he made you question a confession like this.

He abused your trust.

There was a feeling in your starved heart that Simon didn’t mean to use you or to hurt in any way, shape or form. But perhaps, due to his own life experience, he couldn’t express his emotions or desires otherwise.

Simon Riley was a strange, secluded man.

━ ‘m not. I’m sorry. But the way you fell for my teasin’, priceless.

Simon chuckled into your sensitive ear as he revealed the truth. When his warm breath tickled the skin over your neck, you tried to shield it from him, before Simon latched onto it like a bloodsucking leech.

He stepped closer towards your figure trapped in front of him, but only when he bumped into you, he realized how excited and bothered he got. How his trousers became instantly tighter against his manhood.

━ Fuck. ━ He murmured out, head hanging low in shame.

━ Simon ━ your sweet voice snatched him back to reality from the depths of his worried mind. You clung to his chest, pressing against his toned body, hands sneaking over his frame. ━ Would you like some help?

Fuck.

Simon barely managed to swallow his own saliva, when he nodded his head. He wanted to hold you, to have you. Entirely. To leave shady stamps over your skin, so the next morning you would remember this confession. You would remember him.

━ Not so tough now, aren’t we? ━ You jokingly said, when the lieutenant managed to relax a little bit. When he quit being ashamed of his boner.

━ You’ve put a spell on me, damn vixen.

━ Keep telling yourself, Lt.

The blonde man, still with the smudged black paint over his eyelids, squeezed your hip for a moment, before he reached for the thick blanket from the little, old couch. He unfolded it on the ground and you stepped closer.

Ghost grabbed your smaller hand and guided you to get down on your knees along with him. Your glossed eyes, shimmering with lust followed his handsome face. The face that he kept hidden for so long.

It was a matter of seconds, before the two of you clung to each other, lips connected with desire. Sloppily, you took some clothing off of him and yourself – like heavy, dirty shoes, his warm jacket or your trousers.

Your curious eyes noticed his tattoo. It wasn’t the first time you managed to sneak a peek, but it was a first look from this close.

Simon laid you down onto the plaid blanket and sat on his knees between your legs. His broader shoulders leaned over you, casting a shadow beneath. You kept his face close, leaving a trail of kisses over his features. His short beard tickled you here and there.

━ You okay? ━ He asked, sounding a little concerned that the things progressed so fast. But your eager nodding dispersed the worries away.

━ Still mad at you, it’s all.

━ I’ll apologize then.

Simon unzipped his pants, before he slid them slightly down the thighs. You noticed the bright, short hairs over his meaty legs, prior to him grabbing the sergeant and pulling closer to his groin.

He managed to maneuver your far more delicate form with no struggle, it amazed you how aware Simon was of his strength.

He smudged the flush tip of his hardened length down your now exposed slit. You gasped at the sudden touch there, pressing eyes shut. The soldier kissed gently over your fluttering eyelid and continued pushing forward with his hips.

When his stomach brushed in a swiping motion against your softer belly, you suppressed a mewl by biting onto your lip. Simon continued thrusting into your heat in a gentle way. In a way, you wouldn’t think that someone who hated you so much would do.

The blonde man propped against his right forearm, placed next to your head. You could clearly see how his bicep tensed with each movement. Simon’s other palm wandered over the side of your body, fingers counting the ribs under the skin.

In fact, he was so delicate his touch almost tingled.

Your thighs squished his sides, when the lieutenant speeded up the rhythm of the thrusts. You felt the crude way your bodies were connected and found pure, primitive pleasure with such an act.

How Simon moved within you, how the sex itself was passionate yet not painful, the way he made you feel secure and protected between his arms. In his arms.

When you opened enough for him, a couple of cute moans slipped from your mouth just as he pressed his forehead against yours.

━ Simon. ━ You whispered, the ecstasy of the moment becoming overwhelming.

You leaned for a sloppy kiss. No, not one. You wanted more. He kept holding himself back, waiting for your initiations.

So when you welcomed him inside your mouth, he clung to it tighter. The coiling pressure in your tummy grew stronger, making your fingers numb.

━ Si–Simon, I–

You didn’t have to finish the sentence, he already knew. The lieutenant could read you like a book. His favorite one.

━ Fuck, me too. ━ He groaned through his teeth, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

Your hips bucked vividly into him, when you nuzzled your head into Simon’s neck – exactly where it meets with the shoulder. His scent was heavy in the air. The sound of his loud breaths filled your ears.

━ Don’t stop, don’t stop. ━ You chanted whispering, slowly drifting yourself into upcoming orgasm.

So when the coiling feeling of climax snapped inside of you, you let out a breathless moan. Your slender fingers squeezing around Simon’s arm and shoulder, lower half of the body spasming uncontrollably.

The lieutenant nearly lost himself within the divine sensations your body provided him with. Simon’s shoulders tensed, thighs flexed and he continued to lead you through your pleasure, meanwhile chasing his own.

And finally, when you started becoming limp on that plaid blanket beneath with a final, eager thrust, he climaxed too. His hips shuttered, mouth fallen agape while riding through his own peak. The Englishman muttered your name on repeat for a moment as his length throbbed.

Simon was so preoccupied with blinding delight that he hadn’t noticed when your hand cupped his jaw, another one sneaking onto his occiput, slowly rubbing circles.

━ You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’. ━ He declared amazed, carefully resting down his body over yours.

You still, up to this moment, couldn’t believe what just had happened. The months of rage and scuffles ended in his office, on the floor. Nearly naked.

His scent was stronger than ever before – a specific brand of aftershave or a cologne? Nonetheless, it smelled like burned wood, like a campfire on a summer night. Perhaps maybe because of that you felt safe in Ghost’s embrace.

Since you laid down your head on his chest, he couldn’t stop touching your hair. The lieutenant played with the loose strands of it, flicking between his coarse fingers.

He had already given you his warm jacket, which you gladly put on and snuggled against his side, like a big teddy bear. One of your shaking legs, hooked over his. Simon pushed you even closer with his arm wrapped around your back.

━ So ━ Simon spoke softly, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep prior to it ━ you still angry with me, eh?

━ Still debating about that, Lt.

━ Quit teasin’, bonnie.

You giggled like a foolish teenager again, your head adjusting on top of his chest. The lieutenant placed his palm over yours and you could observe how his ribcage was opening up and slowly falling down.

God, this shouldn’t feel so good.

━ Simon, shouldn’t we finish the reports?

━ Yeah, in a minute. Let’s stay like that a lil’ longer.

#request #reader insert #ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #smut #enemies to lovers

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dmitriene · 8 months

Text

ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ.

❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘻𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘺.

❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘓𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘥𝘶𝘣 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦.

❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵��𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

The world has turned into a nightmare.

A viral outbreak has engulfed an underground military base, spreading like wildfire.

Panic, chaos and isolation had become the new normal and as you sat alone in your dark house, your heart ached with worry for Simon, your lover.

You recalled that fateful day when he left for his mission, his strong arms around you, his lips softly brushing against yours as he whispered — «I'll be back soon, love»

Little did you know that it would be the last time you'd feel the warmth of his embrace.

Weeks had passed since that fateful goodbye and you couldn't help but replay that moment in your mind, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace, Simon calling you when the virus first broke out, his soothing voice assuring you that everything would be fine.

You sobbed into the phone, overcome with fear, but his words and the words of his comrades convinced you that they would return home unharmed.

But as the days turned into weeks, the news grew grimmer, the base was locked down and your calls to Simon went unanswered.

You clung to hope, ignoring the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest, until one day, instead of Simon returning, a letter arrived at your doorstep, it was from the army, and you knew what it meant before even reading it.

Your trembling fingers traced the words, polite and formal at first, gradually morphing into condolences and the dreadful confirmation that he had died trying to protect his team inside the abandoned underground base.

You clutched his dog tags to your chest, the metal cutting into your skin as you fell to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

The pain was unbearable, the loss was too great, your life became a desolate, empty space, an emptiness where there once was love and warmth.

From that day on, your life felt empty.

Friends and comrades reached out, offering condolences and encouragement, but you couldn't bring yourself to move on, you locked yourself inside your house, spending endless hours in bed, the pain of loss weighing you down.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Simon was not truly gone.

The virus had found a home within his body, refusing to let him succumb to death entirely, he had become a creature teetering on the brink of life and death, a zombie with a tenuous connection to his former self, his consciousness was clouded, but he clung to one vivid memory — your warmth, your love.

It was instinct, an inexorable drive that drove him forward, he had to find you at any cost.

The virus left him with one goal, one destination imprinted in his mind — the path to you, to your home.

Outside, the world fell into chaos.

The streets were overrun with the infected, the remnants of humanity struggled to survive, but Simon came through it all, a ghost among the living dead.

He retained some of his old skills, an uncanny ability to navigate treacherous, unknown terrain.

The journey was risky, full of danger at every turn — he encountered groups of survivors, some hostile, some desperate, but he avoided them all, driven by the sole desire to get to you.

His body had scratches from countless encounters, but he continued to move forward, his mind focused on the beacon of your love.

Meanwhile, you remained locked in your house, oblivious to the outside world.

The days blurred into each other and you couldn’t shake the memories of Simon, the love you shared and the emptiness that replaced it.

On a moonless night, while you lay peacefully in your bed, he returned.

The room was dimly lit, the soft light of the moon coming through the curtains gave the entire surroundings a soft silvery hue, you had just calmed down from your recent tantrum, the remnants of your pain still hanging in the air as if a storm had just passed.

Unbeknownst to you, your front door had been forced open, but you remained blissfully unaware, lost in your daydreams.

His grip on the doorknob went unnoticed and his frustration made him growl quietly as he struggled with it, leaning down and feeling the space under the rug, his movements oddly instinctive.

The key hidden there was easily found, Simon did not remember how he knew where it was, he could not explain, as if some primitive knowledge led him here.

With the key in his hand, he quietly entered your house, so quietly that it might have seemed like a ghost slipping through the door.

He moved with predatory grace, his senses heightened by an invisible force, the living room was scanned with an attentive, methodical gaze, and the door closed behind him with a quiet click.

Simon's senses heightened as he inhaled the familiar fragrance of your presence, it was intoxicating, making his growls turn into low, guttural moans.

It was a sound born of instinct, a desire that drove him forward, towards you.

He followed an invisible path as if guided by an invisible force, his movements were smooth, he paid no heed to the dirt he left on the floor, his sole focus on reaching you, the door to what was once your shared bedroom was open, the gateway to his final destination.

You lie under the covers, in the cocoon of your safe bed, unaware of something else that has silently invaded your space.

With deliberate care, he approached your bedside, the mattress groaned beneath his weight as he knelt, his decayed hand sliding up your waist.

You whimpered in your sleep, murmuring his name, the scent of your arousal filled the room, driving his animalistic desires further.

His fingers tugged gently at your lips, a gentle gesture that belied the growing tension in the room, and you stirred, turning away from him, and the blanket slipped, exposing your body in pajama shorts and a silk tank top that had ridden up slightly, revealing your waist.

Simon couldn't resist the temptation, his growl deepening as he leaned over you, one knee on the bed, his cold, clammy hand roved your waist, eliciting another whimper from you.

His hand moved deliberately, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin as his hips instinctively jerked forward, eliciting a low whine from you as you sleepily whispered his name — «Ngh, Simon…»

Your scent intensified, a heady, intoxicating aroma engulfing him, and a familiar note in your voice as you reached out your hand to touch his face, repeating his name once again — «Simon…»

But something was wrong.

You glanced at your palm, eyes widening in horror at the sight of dried blood, panic surged through you, and you were about to scream when Simon covered your mouth with his mangled hand, muffling your cries — «No, please!»

You sobbed into your hand, tears welling up in your eyes, you struggled to breathe, the metallic taste of iron and the sickening smell of rotten flesh assaulting your senses as you felt his clothed bulge rubbing against the thin fabric of your shorts right in the middle of your clothed cunt.

Panic overtook you as you said his name in desperation and realization, recognizing him as Simon, but this Simon was no longer yours.

His grip on your waist intensified, there was an animalistic demand in his touches, his cold fingers contrasting sharply with your warm skin as he reveled in the feeling of the heat, his growl became more and more insistent and heavy, more faster.

You whimpered, your pleas muffled by his hand as he continued his relentless exploration of your body and the steady movement of his hips — «Simon, please, stop!»

Your mind was in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and desire fighting inside you, you whined softly, your eyes widened in horror and confusion and he stopped for a moment, his hand now caressing your cheek, his growl softening as if he was trying to comfort you, to convey that he was still here.

And then, with a sudden, savage motion, he sank his teeth into your neck.

As his sharp teeth pierced your skin, you couldn't suppress the guttural scream that escaped your throat — it was a primal scream of agony, an instinctive reaction to the excruciating pain coursing through your body.

Blood gushed around the wound, an ominous crimson stream running down your neck in a slow, never ending cascade as the metallic taste filled your mouth, mixing with the acrid smell of the room.

You could feel the warmth of your life's essence flowing down your skin, a sensation both nauseating and frightening.

The strange throbbing pain continued at the side of the bite — it rushed through your body like a foreign feeling — as if every nerve ending was on fire, sending sharp electrical pulses of pain through your limbs.

Your muscles tensed and twitched involuntarily, a cruel reminder that you were powerless against this terrifying intrusion.

Your heart was pounding wildly, its relentless pounding adding to the agony as it pumped your life blood faster and faster.

The room seemed to spin, your vision blurred as darkness approached the edges of your vision, you felt dizzy, disorientated, as if your entire being was being drained.

And then your vision began to blur, and you felt that you were losing consciousness, and the world around you was disappearing.

In your final moments of awareness, you heard his hoarse voice, distorted and distant, but filled with possessiveness, uttering a chilling statement that sent a shiver down your spine

— «You're mine»

And then everything went dark.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

#[ ✒️july writing ]#simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fic #simon riley fanfic #cod fanfic #cod fic #zombie!ghost

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dutiful-wildcraft · 4 months

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Pack 141 - Werewolf!Price Headcanons

Tags: monster au, sfw, werewolf!price, mentions of gore and body horror, loose a/b/o dynamics, possessiveness, scent marking, fluff, werewolf lore sprinkled with pack 141 interactions

-A born lycan. The shift was as natural as breathing. And he quickly showed the temperment of an alpha.

-Shifts to the outsider can appear gruesome. As the wolf quite literally emerges from within, human flesh falling away like a gristly chrysalis to reveal the beast beneath. Traditionally, this shed flesh would be devoured, though it isn't commonly practiced today. The flesh disintegrates quite quickly once shed.

-This being said Price can shift in degrees, often enhancing his own claws or teeth for defensive purposes rather than shift completely.

-No, the clothes do not magically pop back on once he's done. Shifting completely is inconvenient and typically a last resort. It's difficult to strip in the middle of a fire fight, let alone find his tac bag stark naked after it's all said and done.

-For born wolves, this shift is generally smooth and quick. For those bitten, it is this first shift that often leads to their death. Around 75% of those bitten do not have the bodily fortitude to withstand the change.

-as a born wolf, Price's enhanced senses are also perfectly integrated, and require no sensory aids for him to navigate his daily life unlike the majority of bitten wolves.

-born wolves have a tendency to remain in seclusion, within the safety and comfort of their pack. When a new alpha is born they typically either stay to take over leadership, or stake out a new territory to build their own pack.

-John was quickly ostracized when he showed little interest in either of those things. He seemed to be far more preoccupied with exploring both the world and his own strength. The military amongst the humans would do quite nicely.

-During his tours there would be fleeting encounters with other monsters, typically enemies. But a few comrades as well. Such as Nikolai, a bear shifter. The pair of lycans got along beautifully.

-Now, despite his former pack's opinions of him, John had never explicitly said he didn't want a pack, just not their version of a pack. No. John had a different idea in mind.

-Simon was the first. A strong and brutal human, who had shown an endearing gentleness in certain circumstances. Price had decided immediately that Simon would belong to him. He just needed some final paper work to build his pack task force. He had even settled on changing Simon himself, despite the risks. A bloody vampire had beaten him to it. Price was hardly angry that Simon's humanity was taken from him, just that Simon had to suffer in such a way to get there. At least Price had the pleasure of siring the newborn himself.

-Next had been Soap. A wiley thing with a blatant disregard for orders and big blue eyes that were far too pretty to be all human. Price couldn't decide if he should scruff or praise him for his cheek. But Soap had an excellent knack for mixing things that should absolutely not work, into something that would cave a warehouse in seconds. Along with a distinct aversion to touching certain metals with his bare hands. His peculiarities had earned him a nickname, and also given him away as a Fae. Price would have him too.

-Garrick followed not long after. Sharp and driven Gaz. Incredibly clever with a proud determination that blazed behind those warm brown eyes. Gaz's skills made his inner wolf purr in delight. Another lovely thing for him to keep. Price was taken with him immediately, and had never felt more at ease than with the sergeant he had stolen in Piccadilly.

-While he could tell from Kyle's scent that he was something Other. Price would only receive cryptic answers or riddles that only made the younger sergeant chuckle as Price failed to guess correctly. (Price would totally not make up excessively silly answers to see the sergeants pretty smile, oh no).

-It wouldn't be until they were stranded in an excessively hot desert that Gaz would reveal himself. Price had emerged from their tent to see Garrick, posted up like it was summer vacation, with a brilliant golden wing curled over his head to shade him from the sun. A long tufted tail flickering back and forth out of a small cut in his fatigues. Gaz had looked up from his book, golden slitted eyes peering over his aviators. Flashed him a toothy grin. “Wanna make another guess Cap?”

-Price has a vicious possessive streak, and he plays it incredibly carefully in the beginning of the task force. He watches his vocabulary when talking about the “team.” His pack. Perfect, strong and beautiful. All of them. Chosen carefully. He was careful not to spook them at first, worried his possessive language would put them off. But they are, for all intents and purposes, his.

-His possessiveness had manifested subtly at first. Scent marking them. Brushing shoulders or gentle touches as he passed them. He would even resort to smoking beside them if touching seemed out of the question. At least his smoke would soak into their clothes and hair.

-As they fell together it became less subtle. Price couldn't resist sinking his teeth into their flesh as they writhed beneath him. Suck bruises along whatever flesh he could get his mouth on. It was a pro and a con that his boys all healed so well. While his marks did not remain for long, it meant he could only mark them up sooner.

-He loves that their scents all intermingle, really. But he can be stubbornly adamant that his scent is the most notable. Often catching Soap or Gaz to tug into his office, kissing the breath out of them, only to curtly send them back out, freshly scented and a bit dazed. It's a fair compromise considering Simon often hogs the sergeants to himself.

-Simon often seeks him out of his own volition. Coming to his office to sit quietly, work on his own reports and bask in Price's scent of spilled ink and warm honey. Or sneaking to his room in the night. Slipping off the mask to bury his nose against his throat. No biting. Just breathing. His scent a balm to the younger vampires frayed nerves.

-Price takes an immense amount of pride in caring for his pack, and takes his job seriously in protecting and providing. Gets immensely distraught when one of his mates is hurting. Knowing no limits in showering them in comfort items and love.

#captain john price #werewolf!price #john price #monster au #pack 141 #poly 141 #poly task force 141 #john price x kyle gaz garrick #john price x john soap mactavish #john price x simon ghost riley #pricegaz #pricesoap #ghostprice #call of duty #captain price

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homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months

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I got you | Pt. 1

(A/N) Okay...for this one, I beg of you, do look at the warnings. It's a heavy one with a lot of possible triggers.

Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: lots of angst, death of a loved one, PTSD, civil war, flashbacks, injuries, description of death

Synopsis: During the briefing for a mission, the Reader gets triggered and Simon takes care of her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Okay…now that everyone is here, we can begin with the briefing.”

Price got up from his seat at the head of the table and started to pace before the screen, which displayed the details for the new mission. He began to talk, but you had already zoned out. Paying attention in these briefings had never been your strong suit, your ADHD riddled brain just wouldn’t stay focused for that long. But you found other ways to entertain yourself, until the briefings would be over and you could bug one of your comrades to give you a quick overview. Emphasis on quick.

So, you started to do the usual. First, you fiddled with your pen, spun it around between your fingers, until you grew bored of that. The next thing was always doodling. Pros: it looked like you were actually paying attention and taking notes. Cons: you sucked at drawing and would quickly grow frustrated at your lack of talent, and as a result grow bored of doodling.

Of course the next activity was taking your pen apart and putting it back together as quickly you could, without making a ruckus. This was also usually the time, when Ghost or Price would take your pen away and tell you to focus on the briefing. Not that that would help.

So, you and Soap started thumb wrestling under the table. But that would only ever last until one of you almost dislocates their thumb and yelps in pain, which in turn earns a glare from Price or Ghost.

It rarely ever comes to this point. Briefings like this don’t usually take this long, but sometimes they did. Which meant you had to get creative.

Your first idea was to play ‘Goal’ with Gaz, but he was sitting across the table from you, and that would draw too much attention.

Playing with your bottle would also be too obvious.

You were lost in thought when a single word pulled you out of it.

‘Libya’

Your head snaps up and your eyes find Price, who is still pacing up and down. No one seems to have noticed your reaction.

‘Libya’

Flashbacks flood your brain.

Your family, running. You, running. Gunshots behind you. Your mother yelling for you to continue running. Then she falls…and doesn’t get back up. Your bigger sister grabs your hand and continues to pull you along. Away from the gunfire. Away from your mother’s body.

You jump to your feet, accidentally sending you chair flying. Everyone is looking at you.

You. Your sister. Hiding behind a car. She’s bleeding. She’s bleeding so much. People are yelling. There are more gunshots. It’s so loud. So, so loud. You look at your sister. She’s dead.

Your eyes jump from one face to the other. Eyes. So many eyes trained on you. Asking questions.

Eyes. So many eyes trained on you. Asking questions.

“Are you okay?”

“Where is your family?”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Are you alone?”

Someone grabs your arm. You want to resist, you need to resist. But you don’t. Just like back then.

You get pushed. You don’t resist.

Your back hits the wall. You don’t resist.

Someone stands in front of you. You don’t resist.

“Everyone, out!”

Ghost. He’s here. He’ll keep you safe.

But your breath, it’s coming so quick. Your chest, it feels so tight.

But Ghost…

So quick. So tight.

He’ll keep you safe.

So quick. So-

“Listen love, I need you to breath with me, okay?”

Your head snaps up, your eyes finding his. They aren’t as hard and cold as usual.

You nod.

You watch him breath in and copy him. Well try to at least.

You watch him breath out. Slow and steady, but yours comes out in a huff.

He breaths in again. You try to do the same. This time it works a bit better.

And it keeps getting better. The more you breath, the better it gets.

“You’re okay. It’s okay.”

He keeps repeating these words, over and over.

“You’re okay. It’s okay.”

They keep repeating these words, over and over.

You look up again and find those eyes. Scanning your face. Calming you down.

And you calm down.

You don’t know how long you stand there, covered by Ghost, his hands on the wall on either side of you. He’s close enough for you to know that he is there, but giving you enough space to calm down.

“Feeling better?”

You nod, your eyes cast down to the floor.

He nods, his eyes trained on you.

“Take the rest of the day off.

You nod again, and when he takes a step back, you walk to the door. You open it and are about to walk out, when you stop.

“Ghost?”

He grunts, in acknowledgment.

“Thank you.”

You try to sleep. You really do.

But the flashbacks keep coming.

After hours of tossing and turning in bed, you give up on getting any sleep. Instead you get dressed in your workout clothes and make your way to the gym on base. On the way you contemplate on what you want to do. Cardio, hoping it would get you tired? Strength, hoping it would make you feel better?

But when you round the corner and look into the gym, all those thoughts leave your head. Because someone is there, training. Ghost is there.

He is wearing a tight, dark grey, muscle shirt with black sweatpants and is punching away at the sandbag. But when you enter the room, he stops and looks at you.

“Not able to sleep?”

You give a curt nod, which he copies, before he returns to the sandbag. You continue to watch him for a few moments, before you make your way to one of the treadmills. After placing your water bottle and towel where they belong, you turn on the treadmill and begin walking.

After some time, you up the speed and incline, continuing to do so until you’re running.

And suddenly, you’re running from bullets.

You’re running, your mother is holding your hand, your big sister is in front of you. Gunshots echo behind you. Your father is dead. So is your big brother.

You speed up.

Someone calls your name, but you don’t turn around. Turning around would mean slowing down, and you can’t slow down now.

Again, someone calls your name and this time you turn around. But then you trip over your own two feet and plummet to the ground. You hit it hard, but the ground isn’t still, it’s moving. And fast, and suddenly you’re flung off the treadmill.

This time, your name is uttered in pure panic and you hear heavy footsteps racing towards you. You curl together, preparing to be beaten and killed, but strong hands grab you and pick you up. And then you smell him.

You open your eyes and look into Ghost’s. They are wide in panic and shock.

“-uo okay?”

You blink at him. He says your name, the tone snapping you out of your confusion.

“Are you okay?”

You nod hesitantly and Ghost sighs in relief. Suddenly, he pulls you close.

“I got you. You are safe, I promise.”

Ghost isn’t a caring person. He is hard, cold and serious. He doesn’t do hugs, he doesn’t get concerned. The fact that he’s now holding you close, the fact that he’s seeing how bad you are doing and the fact that he’s concerned, brings tears to your eyes.

You start to cry, sob into his chest. You cry for your mother and sister. For your brother and father. For your cousins and aunts and uncles. You cry for your people and you cry for your younger self. The young you that had to grow up in the middle of a civil war. The young you that lost everyone while trying to escape. The young you that was brought to a strange country, all alone. The young you that never had a childhood.

And all the while, Ghost holds you close. He hums and rocks back and forth gently. He cradles you against his chest and rubs your back. He is there for you.

He holds you until you calm down and then some. And when he’s sure that you’re fine, he presses his covered lips to your forehead before he pulls away.

“What do you need?”

You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.

“What do you need? What can I do for you to feel better?”

You inhale sharply, and look everywhere but at Ghost.

“I…I don’t know. I just…I don’t know.”

Ghost nods and thinks for a bit before he offers you his hand. You take it hesitantly and let him pull you out of the gym and towards the barracks. You follow him until he stops in front of a door and unlocks it, before gesturing for you to go inside ahead of him.

You quickly realise that it’s his room and you turn around to ask him what he’s planning on doing.

“Relax, I just want you to sleep for a bit. When…when I struggle with…with flashbacks, I can never sleep. At least not when I’m alone. Maybe it will help you if you sleep here.”

He hesitates for a second.

“I’ll sleep on the floor of course.”

Tears gather in your eyes and you nod.

“Thank you. Really.”

He nods before he springs into action and starts pulling out extra pillows and blankets. Within a few minutes, the bed is ready for you, and a mattress is waiting for Ghost. It doesn’t really look comfortable, but you don’t voice your concern, scared of driving him away in some way.

“If you want to change, the bathroom is through there.”

He hands you one of his shirts and points at a door, so you quickly go there and change into it, before walking back into the bedroom. Once Ghost hears you, he turns around.

“Ready to go to sleep?”

You nod again and shuffle to the bed, before climbing onto it and tucking yourself in. Ghost does the same, just on the mattress after he turns off the lights. Once both of you are settled, you turn onto your side, facing Ghost.

“Ghost?”

He grunts, but turns in your direction.

“Can…can I hold your hand?”

There is no response for a few moments before you hear shuffling and a hand suddenly appears in front of you. You scoot closer to the edge of the bed and take it, holding it close while your eyes slowly drift shut.

The last thing you hear before sleep takes over you, is Ghost, muttering softly.

“I got you.”

Next Part

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction

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thewriterg · 5 months

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.2

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; easiest sail of your life or standing on the line of death

word count; 2.1k | 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; We made it passed finals,

04:00 came too quickly for your liking you felt like you hadn’t got an inch of rest even if the feeling was nowhere rare nor new to you as you crouched near one of the normals you had decided to recruit for the mission the rest scattered all around the roof of the main building one eye shut another wide looking through the scope of your sniper a silencer attached to the barrel finger scattering to squeeze the trigger as the body of a shade dropped dead it was ironic you thought when you went over the file and quickly made your distaste known to the knock off shadows it was a second too late you were off your usual statistics even if it was pitch perfect to the average eye it was off to you

“Gaz what’s your visual?” You hear Prices gruff voice over your coms waiting out to hear the next move while your normals wait on your word you can see the harpy hybrid further away perched on a satellite talons digging into the disk his strong weighted wings perched well over his shoulder only for the fact you were looking for him because you wouldn’t of known he was there if you didn’t

“It’s sunny out, we’re looking peachy.” The rich warm skinned man replied trucker hat fixed fitted around the perimeter of his head protecting his eyes from the blaring sun that was beginning to set and when the new set of shades came to take over shift from their comrades to see a good chunk of them fallen the game of silence would be over and you’d be able to make noise

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Ghost?”

“Heard. I’ll clear the rest of the way, I’ll keep things under wraps.” The wraith stood next to Soap back pressed against the side of a building gear all black and fitting covering all skin opposite of himself who had on a short sleeve, bulletproof vest, and cargo pants that dipped in the back from his well weighted tail his voice still carrying even through his hard skull mask and a hood that covered the back of his head along with his back side exactly what he would expect the grim reaper to the brunette thought pulling his bottom lip between his teeth

“Then clear the way. When there’s an opening, that’s your cue Soap.”

“Copy. I finally get to see ya strut ya stuff Lt.” The Scott grinned at his superior canines on full display practically gazing into skull even though the man didn’t requite the eye contact himself paying the sergeant little to no mind his own gaze focused elsewhere that being on his gloved hand the subtle sound of Velcro straps being undone a sound that the soldier didn’t quite focus onto

“Ain’t a runway Mactavish”

“No? Could’ve fooled m-” The small sound of fear mixed with ambition slipped from Johnnys lips blue eyes two times as wide and pupils shrinking twice in size when Simon snatched the thick fabric from his fingers nails slightly pointed representing claws even if they were shorter than your average hybrid with claws or talons the tips of his pale hand dark slowly getting lighter as it traveled up his arm shadows singing a similar sound to when you cracked open a two liter of soda and got the first cup even though the ‘fisssss’ and ‘shhhhh’s wasn’t the least of comforting to those on the opposing side when the brunette went to open his mouth the blonde denied the request before even looking it over

“Shut it.” He responds placing his hand deliberately over the worn reddish brown bricks smoking shadows gently traveling from the tips of his fingers before the brown eyes lieutenant applied more pressure veins straining against his flesh even though he felt no discomfort the amount of shadows doubling as they traveled up and around the building hissing gently as it went to soon cause chaos and destruction

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The site of shadows slipping through the floor of the enemy base was quite literally a smoke signal in itself as you see soldiers fall black wraps engulfing them the act of struggling to untangle themselves utterly useless it stunned you a little even though you weren’t yourself affected the sight of shadows out in the field was a sight in itself you fight a grin off your face settling for a smirk and make sure to mutter into your coms ‘show off’ before jumping down from the side of your building along with two soldiers abandoning your post the rest of six according to you headcount still cover ground from above but it’s not enough shades are crowding all around with guns that put hybrids down after one hit at least you knew now that they didn’t have any hybrids of their own forcing you to press your back against a wall after bullets fly past your temple one of your soldiers Red in the same position behind you and the other Tank crouching up against a wall across from you both you curse underneath your breath muttering into you mic

“Gaz, it’s flatline.”

“I know deity, what do you need?” The voice rings back not two seconds later and across the field Soap perks up the sign unfamiliar to him he’s interrupted before he can pounce on it

“Their coming faster than my privates can throw em, need a window to get my soldiers to the main building”

“Go now.” Ghost speaks up from beside the shadows on the wall are darker than before and their are even some slipping through the slits of his eye holes from his mask and when the lieutenant finally turn to face the sergeant his eyes are fully black and along with his eyes there’s shadows seeping from his covered lips this was more than the grim reaper this was death Soap didn’t know his expression carried shock until he went to grin almost unphased yet his voice told a different story

“Shit Lt… yer gonna be a tough act ta follow. But watch me alright?” The brunettes clothes begins to rip as he hunches over the sound of bones creaking and snapping as his canines make themselves known the act almost to swift for the blondes eyes to follow before he’s three times bigger in size ears shifted to sit almost atop of his temples, thinner coats of fur placed on the fronts of his arms traveling down to his hands yet not reaching his palms mohawk a bit longer and beard a bit thicker

“I’ll put on a good show”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Run they’ve got a wolf!” You move out of the shadows quickly watching shades scatter around as things clash and shake you take your window without a thought pushing until you’ve made into the building alarms blaring yet it’s fairly empty only few soldier remaining that you could see you give your sergeants a look signaling them over with a tilt of your chin and they obey

“For now, we’re one in sync.” They nod look of confusion shining beneath the look of loyalty as you hold your palm out placing it on the area of their foreheads until their faces is covered now mirroring yours the body of a bird sitting in between the area of your eyebrows and the beginning of the nasal bone the head resting in the middle of the forehead one wing stretching around the eye the tips of the wings burning red yet it’s inner body a bold orange and the other stretched over the opposite one tail kicking out to swing over the area of the cheek down to the chin a true sign of the phoenix

The three of you split Red takes out two shades with nothing but the wield of her fists the act of the neck bones cracking under her fingertips while Tank opts for his pistol no matter is its bashing the butt in someone’s skull or shooting a bullet between their eyes the shades don’t know what the hell hit them but it fucking hard as you walk down hallway your fingers drag alongside the wall and you stop gently at the sight of shadows crawling over the wall the timing is almost perfect as an unwanted crowd stand across from you before you can even open your mouth bullets spray your shoulder is grazed as the rest of them are suddenly stopped in mid air black smoke wrapped around them as you and the shadows interlink and hold hands

“You have, exhausted my patience.” You state lowly with a twirl of your fingers before sharply pinching the bullets into makeshift spears pushing them out with force the shades try to retreat but at the end they are still, lying dead on the cold cement floor a burnt red and orange bird mask covered face the last thing they see

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Rats are jumping ship… keep a few alive we need the intel. Gaz, eyes on Soap?”

“He’s makin’ a scene in the center yard” The crow hybrid huffs out a chuckle a small grin resting on his face perched on a side of a building brown feathered wings spread across his back while the werewolf huffs a grin on his face before responding into his mic connected by the collar around his neck defending his honor to his lieutenant

“Not for nothin’. Destroyed the drive captain.”

“Good, get to the extraction point.” Price speaks up before dying out just as quickly while Gaz dives to the ground his wings strong going against the current of wind with a ‘swoosh’ and the canine baring hybrid didn’t stutter in steps making his way over to the harpy with a smirk before it dropped confusing the brunette as he inched towards the skull wearing lieutenant

“Haven’t heard from Deity Lt.” Gaz muttered eyebrows furrowed and Ghost’s shoulders are up and tense more than they were before and as he turns to switch on his coms Price beats him to it having overheard the harpy since he left his own line open

“Deity, what’s your status?” With not a slip of the tongue for you the captain repeated into the radio

“Deity how copy?” The complete silence on your end made them wary you weren’t an easy one to take down let alone to be took down at all so why the hell weren’t you answering your damn coms to your captains calls

“Deity” The wraith growled out now order direct and firm even if you were his downright equal you could hear the hulking echo slightly and before Gaz is taking off to cover ground from above they see the silhouette of your mask before they see you your feet a somewhat dragging behind you as you carry the weight of a three thousand pound missile over your back with a body hunched over your shoulder while you lug them both finally able to drop what you came here for, your mission you set the body on its feet staring sharply into its eyes Tank it was Soap recalled yet the position of the soldier standing up straighter with every passing moment until he was letting out a breath nodding his raven colored head of hair confused the Scott was he not just injured? Did he not just look like utter shit slung over your shoulder mere minutes ago? And was that blood smeared around his lips? The uncertainty of it all made him itch while Kyle was quick to come to your aid that you waved off before he could inch to close it confused him it was unusual to say the least I mean sure you’d roll your eyes to the point he’d tease they’d get stuck but outright refusing was rare he didn’t push it though chalked it as the adrenaline from the mission hadn’t gone yet

“Can you lug around three thousand pounds, half a mile” Your eyes were hooded yet sharp as you turn to question the mohawk wearing mutt gaze piercing through him that reminded him of a skull wearing lad and he stares at you for a second before cracking that grin nodding his head but you don’t spend an extra second before murmuring to your privates who go to regroup with the rest of their equals before you begin the walk trailing besides Ghost reaching to give him something that Soap can’t quite see before he realizes it’s a part of gloves when he’s shoves them over his fist the sight of you both with black hoods that sway behind your back the side view of the the Grim reaper and Phoenix was truly ethereal and by the look in Gaz’s eyes

He agrees

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

www.everyoneiscoocooforcoacopuffsbecauseofdeity.com//

I’ve been on break since Tuesday @ 2:30pm we’re gonna act like im not posting this on Saturday @ 9am 😊

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rolling-storm-writing · 1 year

Text

-Ghost/top!M reader: “I’m right here, baby”

Reader was put into a nasty coma and ghost hasn’t been the same. Still desperately trying to make you happy even through this long slumber.

A/N: im not one to write sad or dark things and this one really is not to heavy but still beware just in case. I hope y’all enjoy!

edit: this fic includes suicidal elements so please read with caution

“To grieve deeply is to have loved fully.”

But you weren’t even gone your lungs still filled with air, eyes watching through closed lids, and ears perking when you heard his choked sobs.

“Babe, Baby, (y/n).” The sound of his voice drowned out by the hammering of gun fire and ringing in the air. Sulfur and smoldering flesh danced along the ground, covering the both of you in its dark loving embrace.

You couldn’t move only watch through blurred eyes the frantic ones staring right back at you. Simon had cold eyes, deadly sharp shark eyes. Eyes that loved you and softened so sweetly when you were in his focus. “I’m right here, baby,” Simon murmured the rain of his tears dotting your face as you were carried up to the light. Safe and secured in these trembling arms of your Angel.

“He’s been like that since we got here…” Price whispered to Gaz as the rest of the team watched their crumbling comrade. The surgery was over but the doors remained shut and the curtain drawn shut, The Ghost never prayed to God for his mercy but today he did. Not as a monster of the 141 but as Simon Riley, still stained in his blood dried gear curled up on the floor just outside your door. His trembling hand pressed against the wall almost trying to push through the concrete to reach you.

The next morning nothing had changed, you wouldn't open your eyes and Simon tried to keep hope. And as days turned to weeks he continued to stay, living off the cold hospital food and you, your liquids.

Your muscles started to fade and your face sunk in a little bit almost like how you looked before meeting the 141. A scrawny guy would never had the pleasure of eating los vaqueros cooking, raiding Alex’s snack stash, or wolfing down a plate of ribs with ghost for a free meal.

“You look beautiful” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead brining the blanket up a bit higher. A heavy thing Farah had made and sent over to make sure you didn’t “freeze to death”.

Weeks passed and the ghost was starting to grow weary of this room you were trapped in. Books stacked high and puzzles glued and hung up for decoration of the room. Plants grew with flowers blooming just for you, a heating lamp to mimic the sun on your greying skin.

His lips pressing soft kisses to your own and everywhere you always liked him to.

Sometimes pacing, screaming at you when he halted his steps or begging you to just wake up when the days got particularly hard. The rage whispering, and sweltering river of tears of his begging apologies. Curled up to you wrapping your arms around him as if you’re still truly awake to soothe him.

Seven months, long and and quiet without your laughter to bring his own. Simon had grown smaller lost weight and shoulders no longer strong enough to carry the world. You had grown thinner almost sinking into the bed and lost in the sheets until the nurses would roll you over, keeping the bed sores away so the long stillness wasn’t to obvious.

Even then the sores still bloomed and Simon ran another bursting dam of tears into the already overflowing river.

A year passed and when the January dreariness started he brought you crisp mangos that Rudy had grown. Doting the slices with sweet chili lime and holding the mixture to your nose, letting the juices run down to your cracked dry lips.

“It’s spi-“

It was a deafening sound like a bursting bubble or shattering glass. Your weary eyes a shocked glaze as they stared at the widened ones of your lover. The smell of gun powder filled your nose with familiar smell of iron. The warm trickle and crimson droplets ran down your pretty face, mouth open and agape in a permanent disbelief.

Simons trembling hands steadying as he crawled into bed next to you, the barrel soft under his chin and burning with the heat of it previous discharge. The fire of it leaving a crisp edge at the new hole in his face, a perfect pair with yours…

——————————————————————-

A/N: i don’t even know why I wrote this tbh- imma go write that Price one to make myself feel better

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jugoswolf5678 · 9 months

Text

Ghost x AFAB!Reader 🔞

Summary: Simon gets jealous of König so he destroys your 😺 as punishment 😈

⚠️CW⚠️: mature/sexual themes

⚠️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK⚠️

---

She seriously irked him.

Despite the relationship going on strong, Simon still felt as if he could not trust his lover 100%.

Still, he could not blame her for being the way she was. Y/N was the type of woman to try to get on the good side of her closest peers, to get them to feel as relaxed as her. Surely some would see her overfriendly aura to be quite stifling. Though that did not deter her mission to spread positivity.

But many would wrongly assume Y/N's manner as rather perverse.

And this is just the case with Simon. He has observed some of the exchanges with her and his fellow comrades, causing an unpleasant twinge in his chest, and he did not want to acknowledge that fact.

But he couldn't avoid it forever.

---

"Bro, are you even listening?" Johnny waved his fork in front of Simon's face. He was staring hard at Y/N exchanging pleasantries with a certain Austrian.

Johnny heaved a sigh of slight irritation. "C'mon mate. You can't be starin' at them forever. Y/N ain't the type to wander astray."

"And how would you know that?" Simon scoffed, turning his head towards him with a twitch in his eye.

"Trust me, I know. It's painfully obvious what's goin' on." Johnny was unable to hide the smirk creeping on his face.

"Go on..."

"I don't have to, man. Don't you trust the poor girl?"

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tch..."

Johnny pondered for a moment. "Maybe remind her of what she has?"

"What are you on about, Soap?" Simon snapped.

"Teach her a lesson. Put her in her place." Johnny pointed his fork in the other man's face. "You know damn well where I'm goin' with this."

"Fuckin' hell..."

---

Everything came to a head the next day. König and Y/N were heavily engaged in a discussion regarding their childhoods and the struggles they've had to endure. Simon took notice of this, and discovered some intimate details that Y/N refrained from telling him.

It felt like a real slap to the face, to say the least.

"The hell is going on here?" Simon stormed over, placing a protective hand on Y/N's shoulder.

"We're just reminiscing of our pasts is all," König started. "Is that a problem?"

Ouch.

Y/N was snatched away from the table before she was able to register. Simon tossed her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing, and swiftly carried her away towards his cabin room.

"Scheiße. Hope she can still walk after this." König stifled a snicker.

---

Y/N was shoved into the cabin room. "What the heck's your problem, man?!"

Simon said nothing. He only responded by glaring into her confused yet slightly frightened eyes. Rather than yell, he wanted to show her exactly with whom he had a bone to pick.

"Simon, baby, you're scaring me... What's the matter?" She tried asking him, but was once again met with silence.

He slowly sauntered over to Y/N, backing her into the wall. Caging her with his massive arms, he trapped her like a lion about to pounce on its prey.

Y/N felt a cramp in her throat, and she could feel her eyes stinging. "Simon, I don't understand, why are you so mad at me? König-"

"It's always about that bastard with you, isn't it?! Fuck me, right?!" Simon roared, making her flinch and causing a fresh trail of salty tears to fall.

"What are you-oh!" Y/N began, but was cut off when she felt a sharp sting to her lower backside.

"You don't speak unless I allow you to. Got that?" He whispered in her ear. His hot breath and stubble had sent a shiver down her back.

"But-"

Another fierce slap to the ass shut her up immediately. "What did I just fuckin' say? Shut your goddamn mouth!"

"Why are you-"

Simon grabbed her chin, forcing Y/N to look him directly in his eyes. Not once had she ever seen him this livid before, his anger was near palpable.

"What part of 'do not speak unless spoken to' do you not understand?" He snarled. The grip on Y/N's chin tightened a smidgen, sending a small shock to her chest.

"Since you can't learn to close that mouth of yours on your own, I guess I'll have to do it for you." Simon spouted. Y/N could swear she saw an almost sadistic smirk crawl on his face.

"Kneel."

Not wanting to disobey him, she immediately fell to her knees. Simon's abnormally large tent stared her right in the face, and to say she is terrified would be a massive understatement.

"You're a smart girl. You know what to do, and you know what'll happen if you fuck up." He glared down at her, increasing her fear tenfold.

Y/N shakily reached for Simon's bulge and caressed the outline of his thick shaft. Pulling the zipper down, she let his erection out of the confines of his pants, nearly slapping her in the face. She wrapped her small hand around his girth, and started to gently pump him. The pulsing she felt in her pussy was beginning to become uncomfortable.

She started with a slow, long lick from base to tip, peppering little kisses along the sides of Simon's cock. Leaving out breathy whimpers, Y/N opened wide and swallowed as much of him as she could manage, jerking what she couldn't fit.

Y/N closed her eyes, but snapped them open when Simon lightly popped her left cheek.

"Nope. You close your eyes again and you ain't gettin' a single drop of cum. That's the deal."

She continued to work his cock in her mouth, lidded eyes staring into Simon's. The last thing she needed was being denied one of the things she craved the most.

Her almost inaudible moans sent tiny vibrations through Simon's cock. She sucked and pumped him with gusto, not letting her stare be broken a second time. She almost forgot that her pussy was craving attention too, but as she reached her hand between her plush thighs, he pulled her off his cock with a less than pleased expression.

"Tut tut tut, that won't do either. No touching that pussy of yours unless I say so."

Y/N only responded with more tears falling and another pained whine.

"Aw, did I hurt your precious feelings?" Simon sneered. "Imagine how I felt when I saw you with König all those times..."

His mischievous grin grew wider as he violently rocked his hips into Y/N's face, forcing his entire length down her throat. She held on tight to Simon's thighs as she gagged, struggling to take him in her mouth.

"Tell you what," Simon began. "If you can hold my dick in your throat for 30 seconds, then MAYBE I'll allow you to speak..."

The pain between Y/N's legs was next to unbearable. If Simon didn't allow her to touch herself for another second, she was certain she'd die.

Thirty seconds had passed, and thankfully Y/N has been able to take Simon's cock with no trouble. When the time was up, he slowly removed her head, his length completely soaked with her saliva.

"You did so well this time." He caressed Y/N's face, wiping a few tears away. At this point, he expected her to speak up and ask for forgiveness, but she refused to utter a word.

"You can talk now." Simon lifted Y/N's head up, her glossy eyes staring back at him.

"I'm..."

"You're what? Use your words." He cocked his head to the side.

"I'm sorry..." She hung her head, facing away from Simon in shame.

"Hmmm...Maybe I'll forgive you, on one condition." He replied.

"What do you want me to do?" Her voice got quieter with each word.

"Prepare yourself, darling. Like I said earlier, you're a smart girl. And you know what'll happen if you fuck up."

---

The room was filled with the sounds of wet slaps and Y/N's pitiful cries. Her pussy was overwhelmed with pleasure, she felt like every thrust would send her over the edge.

Simon had her bent over the edge of his bed, holding her arms behind her as he brutally fucked her senseless. Touching every sensitive spot deep inside her, he wanted to hear her cry out his name and beg for his release.

"Tell me, princess. Can König make you feel this good?"

"N-No..." She breathed.

"It's a damn shame he'll never get to feel how wet and tight your cunt is. A goddamn shame..." Simon's thrusts began to quicken, becoming more fierce and rough.

"Simon, I'm close-! W-Wanna cum!"

At her words, he immediately pulled out, keeping Y/N from her prize.

"I don't think you deserve my cum, sweetie. Have you learned your lesson tonight?" He lightly soothed the tender skin of her pussy, coating his fingers with her arousal.

"Yes I have! Please, I beg you! I want you!"

"What about König?" He whispered in her ear again.

"Never! I only want you! Please let me cum!"

Simon clutched both sides of her ass cheeks and plunged deep into her sopping cunt. Shrieking, Y/N swore her cervix had been breached. She had far underestimated his size, but she did not care one bit. All she wanted was for Simon to paint her cunt white with his seed.

"Fuck-!"

The dam inside Simon finally bursts, shooting ropes of his warm, thick cum into her pussy. Y/N wailed in response, a far away look of satisfaction plastered on her face. She breathed out a sigh of relief, not only because he forgave her, but for also being left a cum filled husk in the process.

"And the next time I catch you pulling some shit like that, I'm gonna tie his ass up and fuck you in front of him. Got that?"

#cod #cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost #könig cod #könig #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #call of duty #smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut

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fic-heaven · 2 months

Text

Last confessions (Simon Riley x reader)

Heavy angst!

You are all going to die.

The whole team was uphill right in front the base awaiting Makarov's missile, a manifestation of death coming after your souls thanks to Kate's betrayal. You didn't blame her, none of you did, not when the Russians executed her wife in front of her and tortured her for weeks to find your whereabouts and your base.

You were all going to die.

Gaz lit up a cigar and walked downhill, he wanted to die in the base where you all suspected hid his secret lover. Jhonny was still coming to terms with what was about to happen and paced around in shock after denying Price a quick death, the captain had shot himself afterwards with a quick goodbye, a hug to each of you and a promise that he'd find and gather all of you in the next life, not as a team but as a family. Ghost laughed in defeat, his laughter perturbing Soap further and you...

You hugged your stomach, your expression hard as stone until realization hit.

You were going to die.

"i want our baby to live." You spoke up, voice weak but determinate, your eyes firmly looking at the horizon. The missile approaching the base looked like a simple airplane tracing a white line on the beautiful orange cambas that composed the sky.

"W-what...?" Soap muttered. But the man it was directed to was shock in silence.

Ghost looked your way when Soap did but unlike him who compleatly frozen in place, he took long strides to your spot, his shaky hands gripped your upper arms "Look at me, (Y/n)." But your panic made his voice sound like he was underwater. "SOLDIER!" Your lieutenant yelled with a booming voice breaking your trance, you finally looked at him when he angled you to face him.

His brown eyes turned from wild anger to sick worry when your teary eyes met his, the rim of his turned wet fighting off the upcoming tears. A strong wave of emotions clouded his collected mind, the acceptance of his death never involved yours, much less... Your child. Yours and his.

You were carrying his baby. He was going to be a father.

Makarov wasn't only going to kill him and his team but he was also killing his babe before it even had the chance to take a first breath.

"I want our baby to live-..." You wept again, desperation increasing as your body started to shake with the force of your hyperventilation, Ghost pulled you to his chest, his arms caging you to the heat of his body but you felt suffocated and tried to weakly squirm out of his hold but he didn't relent. It was when you felt his stiff body shake as well that your heavy breathing slightly regulated, he was crying, his sobs, his whimpers...

He was crying. Not Ghost. Simon, your Simon was crying.

His hand shot to his face and snatched off his balaclava throwing it with force to the side cracking the skull's surface and almost hitting Johnny who sat there looking at the horizon compleatly giving up, Price's bloodied revolver in hand, said man's corpse lay a few feet to Soap's right. Jhonny fisted the revolver, in his racing mind the moment you spoke those words he wanted to shoot you, to spare you the image of the base you all considered home and your comrades exploding to nothing robbing Makarov of the satisfaction that he had killed you and the little one you carried. But deep down he knew it was best to leave that decision to you and the father of your child who apparently was his dear lieutenant, so he pointed the muzzle of the gun to the inside of his mouth and closed his eyes eager to meet his captain and his team in the other side of the river of life.

The face of the man you loved stared down at you with so much emotion it broke you. Snot and tears ran down his wet flushed face, his lower lip wavered, for the first time in his adult life, Simon was scared shitless. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to say... A year back before he knew you, he was a mindless soldier but now he realizes that you made him the man he is today, you revived him, made him feel emotions he thought were buried a long time ago along with the man he once was.

"(Y/n)..."

"Don't let me die, Simon- don't - I don't want to die...! PLEASE... MY BABY, PLEASE!" His hands cupped your face in desperation while yours clang to any part of him reachable, your brain convincing itself that if you let go the inevitable would happen quicker. It killed him to see you like this.

Ghost barked out a sob that sounded like someone had stabbed the air out of his chest, it took the remaining strength he had left to keep his body standing and fell down with your to the cold grass of the hill. Your hands went to his hair, his arms circled your waist pressing you close to his body as if he could seal you and the proof of your love growing inside your belly from the enemy Russians.

The missile was approaching quickly.

"When we wake up..." He spoke in gasps from the upcoming panic attack "We-We'll be in our lil apartment..." You could picture it in your mind, your annoying neighbors, your house plants, the dishes drying near the sink, Simon continued "I'll cook ya a big breakfast... Some uh- Pancakes, bacon, hot black coffee as disgusting as you always have it." You chuckle, momentarily forgetting the situation you are in, his right hand lowers to your belly. "Tommy. His name is Tommy." He affirms with an uncharacteristic, nervous and shaky laugh like you had talked about the name and known the gender of the baby for long. You gasp clasping his hand with yours caressing your lightly swollen stomach.

Fuck. You two never even confessed your feelings. The day you found out you were pregnant you were sure he'd cut contact with you, report you even... So you kept it a secret.

Simon spoke quick, his words racing the roaring missile. "I will love you and our kiddo for the rest of my fuckin' life. I'll marry you, I'll leave this shitty fucking job, we'll drive Tommy to school, a good school, buy him a hamster, we'll raise him to be better than us (Y/n)." You were a mess, you knew if the missile doesn't kill you now, the sorrow will. "I'll be a better man, I promise. I love you- FUCK!" He kissed you then, his hands all over you, his bleeding heart being poured in ways like never before, the nights you spent together played in your heads like a movie.

"I love you too... I love you..." You sobbed kissing him gently.

"I love you, my darling."

White light hit. You didn't feel any pain. The last thing you felt were his dry lips crushing yours and his bulky body shielding you, a last attempt to keep you safe.

Ghost died knowing he was no longer a ghost and you died knowing the man behind the mask, Simon, loved you so fiercely that no hostile missile would ever be deadly enough to extinguish his feelings nor his will to father your child.

You died in tears, but you died loving Simon Riley and Tommy Riley.

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