#cod gif
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“HEATWAVE” 🔥 SOAP SKIN | COD WARZONE MOBILE
#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#soap#call of duty#cod#codedit#warzone mobile#modern warfare ii#modern warfare iii#task force 141
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Haven't properly written in a while... This writer's block is destroying me...
_-_-_-_
Simon Riley getting hurt on his bike.
Like he has a mild crash because of a dumbass doing a U-turn and got smashed.
Bike is ruined, arm is bleeding from rubbing the asphalt. He just gets up, groaning because, shit, that bike is too weeks old. Walks like a boss but the old lady has already called 911 and is crying apologizing. Simon feels suddenly bad for his internal 'dumbass' comment. Paramedics tend to his wound, the old cop scolding him for driving in leather pants but in t-shirt.
"What kind of two half ass protection is this son?"
"What?"
Simon just feels a migraine rushing to him.
He gets a ride home from Soap who he called. Best buddy wouldn't shut up either but he loves his Johnny like his own brother so he lets him ramble.
He walks up to the elevator, saying bye to an over worried Soap who just groans and curses in his own babbling.
The elevator's doors close and silence finally settles. He runs his temple with his left hand through the balaclava, the right one holding his leather gloves and being bandaged.
His right arm stings, but he had much worse. Nothing a bit of bourbon couldn't erase. The pounding of his head needs to shut up too. The doors ding and he groans.
He walks to his apartment's door, fumbling the keys and the sound of a door slowly opening is heard behind him.
He glances back, pretty soft eyes looking in his direction. Ah yes. The neighboor.
"Hello Mr ril-... Oh god... What happened?"
He almost wants to chuckle at the worried expression.
" 'ust a scratch..." He mumbles, the words rumbling with his low tone.
But the footsteps he hears makes him sigh and he turns around looking down at the pretty Princess in front of him.
"Mr Riley! That doesn't look like a scratch... What happened?"
The pleading eyes, the worried expression does it for him, his eyes never leaving yours as he automatically mumbles:
"I crashed the bike."
Your eyes widen in shock again. He feels bad. You look even more worried now. He didn't even know that was possible and it somehow breaks his heart.
"Oh sh-...hum"
Hmm... She curses? He never heard her curse. It's adorable.
"Please tell me you're ok... Are you hurt anywhere else? Why didn't you call me? I mean-"
God that blush is cute. How can you be so cute? He wants to just put you under a glass case and keep you in there. He'd get lots of flowers and moss. You'd be his fairy-
"Mr Riley?"
She tilts her head to the side.
"I'm fine. No broken bones."
That seems enough to make her sigh of relief. But suddenly she grabs his good hand and she tugs softly towards her still open door.
"What?"
Simon is floored that this is the only thing he manages to say.
"You can't stay on your own! You just got into a crash! You need to be looked after!"
"What?"
He wants to punch himself now. Don't you know any other words Simon Riley?!
Also, why is he walking behind her like a lost puppy she's softly tugging on the leash of?
Why is he inside her apartment? With the door closed?
How did he end up sitting on the couch? With a cup of tea and cookies.
"What?" He asks again.
She giggles.
"What do you want for dinner? I'll let you decide what you want I'll go prepare the guest's bedroom!" You happily jump to your task after he nods.
Simon looks around, the warmth and cozy space, the plants and the weird cat staring at him from the window sit. He kinda looks at Simon the same way Simon is looking at him. With the same expression that says:
"What?"
#fanfiction#fanfics#simon ghost riley#fanfic#simon riley#cod mw2#ghost cod#ghost simon riley#i need a simon in my life#simon riley call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost
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Hiii
First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖
Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶
Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌
Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?
Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️🔥
Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡
Do No Harm
After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.
AO3 Link
TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play
When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted.
“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was.
“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush.
You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you.
The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure.
You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve.
He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy.
It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day.
“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night.
You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch.
“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign.
You smiled down at him, joking around,
“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.”
“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”
“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face.
You pitied him, winking cheekily,
“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”
His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action.
You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it.
He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought.
You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future.
Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it.
You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds.
You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have.
You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep.
There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?
You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you.
“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”
“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”
“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”
“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own.
But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution.
“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”
“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin.
“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”
He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge,
“You want me to stop? Hm?”
The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment.
Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance,
“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”
“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”
“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock.
In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh.
You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further.
“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss.
Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure.
The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center.
You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth.
“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened.
Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot.
As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you.
You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly.
You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again.
Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together.
“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”
You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks,
“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”
All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy.
“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.
You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull.
He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize.
Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white.
He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone,
“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”
He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup.
You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be.
He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual.
You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples,
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”
You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more.
“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”
“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall.
“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good.
Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.
#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#john price#cod#captain price#captain price x you#call of duty#captain price x reader#captain price x female reader#captain john price x female reader#john price x female reader#john price smut#captain price mw2#oh captain my captain
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GPD'S May CoD Writing Challenge - Simon "Ghost" Riley
#GhostChallenge
May 17-26, 2024
Headcanons, imagines, drabbles, and artwork are also welcome and encouraged!
Please No: Non-con, Dub-con, SA, Yandere, or major character death. For more information, see Writing Challenge FAQs.
Please tag me @glitterypirateduck and use the tag #GhostChallenge in add tags at the bottom of your fic. I will put all fics in one masterlist.
If you have any questions, please DM me.
✨️🏴☠️🦆
The scenarios below range from vague to detailed. Some are full on plots while others are moments. Your writing can revolve around the listed scenario, or the scenario can be a smaller "scene" that takes place within the overall fic. Some are repeats or fan favorites from the Price challenge.
Scenario List
*idea came from a mutual or follower
A bet, wager, or dare is made
A confession is made
A heated argument turns into something even spicier
A kiss on the inside of the wrist
A lustful moment turns unexpectedly romantic/meaningful
A misunderstanding takes place
Accidental confession
Accidentally falling asleep on each other
Alternate universe
An almost kiss 💋
Best friends to lovers
Brothers best friend trope*
Car sex
Caught red-handed
Childhood friends or high school sweethearts reunite and find love again
"Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?"
"Don't let go"
Enemies to lovers
Face sitting
Forehead touching 😍
Ghost and Reader are from warring families/friend groups, but fall in love
Ghost and Reader are in a book club
Ghost and Reader are vacationing separately and meet while on their vacation. Ex. staying at same hotel, meet on the beach, on a place, etc.*
Ghost and Reader go on a Ferris Wheel....but the Reader is afraid of heights
Ghost and Reader have to dress up for an event (dance, ball, gala, etc.)
Ghost and reader slowly realize they are in love
Ghost and/or Reader gives the other a nickname and only they are allowed to use it
Ghost and/or Reader is able to bring out another side of the other person that no one else is able to. Ex. Ghost is only playful around Reader, Reader is only crabby to Ghost, Ghost is only soft with Reader, etc.
Ghost as a bodyguard
Ghost chases Reader
Ghost does the one handed door frame lean
Ghost helping reader get used to British culture
Ghost helps you fix up your house or repairs something
Ghost in gray sweatpants. Just. Gray. Sweatpants.
Ghost is a civilian
Ghost is a participant in a photo shoot for a Men in the Military calendar fundraiser. *
Ghost is a Spartan warrior 🥵
Ghost or Reader wakes up in the other person's house/safehouse/etc. after being rescued
Ghost takes his belt off with one hand
Ghost teaches non-military reader a part of his job (how to shoot a gun, how to do an obstacle course, sparring, etc.)
Helping the other person wash hair or bathe*
House-sitting, pet-sitting, or house-keeping
"I know what you came here for"
"I thought you'd be taller"
"I'm not like other girls/guys!"
"Is now a bad time to tell you..."
"Is that my shirt?"
"Is that the best you can do?"
"Just play along"
Karaoke night
Love at first sight
Making a meal for the other person
Meeting friends or family for the first time
Omegaverse*
Online dating*
Place Ghost and Reader in the same universe as your favorite book or video game.
Pool party
Reader and Ghost attend a murder mystery dinner
Reader and Ghost have a one night stand as strangers. It is later revealed that one of them is the other's new boss, co-worker, neighbor, etc.
Reader and Ghost team up to make their exes jealous but end up catching feelings*
Reader and/or Ghost misread a situation
Reader calling Ghost "Simon" for the first time
Reader calling Simon "Ghost" for the first time
Reader damages something belonging to Ghost and agrees to do work for him to pay him back
Reader is brought in to assist Ghost (can be 141 related or AU like a CEO, lawyer, etc.)
Reader is higher ranked than Ghost*
Reader is the hero of the story
Reader is the last of their kind (Fantasy AU)
69ing
Reader must keep their true identity a secret
Reader or Ghost rescues the other from a bad date
Reader rewards Ghost for quitting smoking
Reader sees Ghost WITH his mask for the first time
Reader sees Ghost WITHOUT his mask for the first time
Reader teaches Ghost a part of their non-military job
Reverse cowgirl
Scary Simon
Secret billionaire
Smiling at each other from across the room
Soft Simon
Someone gets pushed or falls into water (pool, lake, river, etc.)
Stuck in an airport at 3 a.m.
Stuck/Caught in the rain
Summer romance
Takes place in a safe house
Taking care of each other in complete silence (taking care of can be interpreted however you wish!)
The entire scene takes place in the dark (power outage, blackout, etc.)
The uniform stays on
"They are right behind me, aren't they?"
Thigh riding
Time is of the essence (bomb, a departing flight, etc.)
Tit fucking/boobjob
Too wrapped up in each other to make it to the bedroom or sofa
"What do you even see in me?"
Wipe away the other persons tears
"You don't have to do that"
You pull him down by his dog tags to either talk or kiss 😘
You wear his dogtags
"You're mine"
You're Price, Gaz, or Soap's sister/brother
The heat goes out and it's freezing*
If none of these inspire you, feel free to participate anyway 🥰
#gpdrecs#call of duty#cod fanfic#cod fandom#gpdrecs writing challenge#writing challenge#call of duty ghost#ghost mw2#mw2 ghost#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghostchallenge
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What Do I Do? | Part 2
Part 1
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
Summary: Simon’s in an accident while he’s deployed overseas and your world threatens to crumble at your feet.
Simon’s two hours away by the time you land in London. You want to go straight to the hospital and wait so you can guarantee that you’ll be there when he arrives, but your escorts insist that they take you to the military base where you’ll be staying first. It’s quite a drive so you’re reluctant to agree, but John happened to call again and warned you that Simon will be rushed to surgery as soon as they get there. You won’t be able to see him for a while.
Tearfully, you relent and let the two soldiers travelling with you take you to the base. You’re antsy for the entire trip, consistently wringing your fingers, checking your phone for texts or calls, and gnawing at the skin of your bottom lip. You’re also driving yourself crazy imagining the absolute worst case scenarios, thinking of every single possible thing that could’ve happened to your husband.
The worst part, though, is that you know it’s bad—and everyone who’s spoken to you about it knows it’s bad—so is a “worst case scenario” actually that far off from reality? Will Simon survive the transport? Will he survive surgery? Will he wake up?
You contemplate this on the way there, while you drop your bags in your new temporary home, and on the way to the hospital. Your one reprieve is that the journey took so long that Simon’s due to arrive in only 20 minutes. You fidget, shake, pace, and cry in the waiting room. You beg your escorts to share any information they know that may have slipped past you. You go up to the nurse’s station 15 times asking if they’re sure this is the best place to wait for him, if they can give you more details, if they know his specific whereabouts and if he’s close.
You’re about to completely lose control when John exits the elevator and hurries over as soon as he notices you, dismissing the two soldiers who have stayed by your side. You nearly collapse when he gets to you, letting him hold you steady by your elbows.
“We just got here and they ran him into surgery right away,” he says.
“Is he okay? Was he awake? What does he need surgery for? How long will it be?”
“The doctors are gonna come find you soon to give you all the details, but he was fine on the transport. He was awake and talking a few times. He was aware of everything, understood what was happening, and he knows you’re here. Got the news that you’d landed while he was up.”
“John,” you say sternly. “I need to know what happened to him. I need to know what’s wrong.”
He pauses, clearly thinking about what to say. He’s not allowed to share, but you’re so desperate and scared and worried, and he’d hate the person to push you further into that space. He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by someone else.
“For Lieutenant Simon Riley?”
You both turn to the doctor a few feet away, looking at you expectantly. You step forward. “Yes, I’m his wife.”
“Mrs. Riley, I’m Dr. Rojas. I’m one of the doctors on your husband’s care team. I understand you haven’t been given any details yet, correct?”
“No, I haven’t,” you rush. “Can you tell me anything?”
“Let’s sit down,” he gestures to one of the empty chairs nearby.
“N-No, no, I don’t want to sit. I just want to hear what’s wrong.”
“Ma’am, there’s a lot to go over and I think it would be best if we sat down together.”
You sigh and let him lead you to the row of chairs. Price stays put. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“No, please!” You rush out. “Stay. Please.”
He nods and sits beside you, waiting for the doctor to share the news he already knows and wishes he could divulge to you himself. Your body is angled towards him, anxiously awaiting what he has to say.
“Your husband was involved in a blast that threw him about 20 feet and caused a partial building collapse. He was caught under heavy rubble for some time as I understand it. He’s suffered a shattered shoulder and fractured femur. When he landed he was impaled on a piece of metal that punctured his kidney, and the weight of the rubble caused a few of his ribs to fracture, which resulted in a collapsed lung.
“There may be some nerve damage in one of his hands, but other than that and his concussion, there doesn’t seem to be much damage to his nervous system and his cognitive function. The surgeon on base did a great job patching him up. He’s still in surgery, of course, so they’re still analyzing the full extent of his injuries but they’re very hopeful that he won’t have too many long-term physical effects as a result. We’re most concerned about his lung, but it seems to be quite stable for the time being. His heart and breathing are strong, we just need to get him put back together.”
You stare at him with wide eyes, taking a while to digest everything he’s just told you. When your breath finally comes back to you, it’s a shudder. You feel your body erupt in chills and your hands begin to shake.
“Try to take some deep breaths,” Dr. Rojas says. “Everything’s okay. I know it sounds incredibly scary, but he’s safe here and he’s got a great team taking care of him.”
You squeeze your eyes closed and nod, feeling John kindly rub your arm from his spot behind you. “H-How long until he’s out of surgery?”
“Right now it looks like four hours.”
You sniffle and run a hand down your face. “How soon can I see him afterward?”
“We’ll need to keep him in recovery for a while to monitor his vitals, the timing depends on how well the surgery goes and how quickly he wakes up from the anesthesia. We’ll come get you when we transfer him to the ICU.”
Your chest feels tight. Four hours and then an undetermined amount of time before you can see him. You’re going to go crazy. You start to shake your head, staring at Dr. Rojas like you need him to speak the words you can’t even begin to think of. “What am I supposed to do now? What do I do?”
“You’re welcome to wait here, get something to eat in the cafeteria. We have a waiting room one floor down with an entertainment unit that a lot of families waiting through long surgeries often use. You can pick a film to watch, read a book, play a game. I know this all sounds ridiculous given the circumstances but it really does help the time pass by quickly. If you don’t want to stay, you can leave your information with us and go get some rest. We’ll call with every new update.”
You exhale deeply, feeling sick at the thought of leaving the hospital. “No, I’ll stay. I need to stay.”
“You should get some rest,” John chimes in.
You turn to him. “I really don’t want to leave. I’m going to stay.”
“I’ll come find you when there’s news,” Dr. Rojas says. And then he takes his exit. You and John sit in a few beats of silence, taking everything in before you ask him the inevitable.
“How bad was it?”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Bad. Saw the whole thing happen. Swear I went to help him as quickly as I could. We all did.”
You nod. “I know… I know.”
You take the time to really take him in. He’s clearly exhausted. And concerned. The dark circles under his eyes and wrinkles between his eyebrows tell you that much. He’s tense and on high alert. He just went through something traumatic. It’s part of the job, but it’s still a big deal.
“You should go. Go sleep and eat and wash the day off of you.”
“I’m fine,” he says.
“Seriously, John.”
He shakes his head, pushing himself to his feet and offering you a hand. “Let’s go check out those films he mentioned.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A few hours later, you’re passed out on the waiting room couch in front of the TV playing The Wizard of Oz, the third movie you’ve thrown on. You made it through the first, watching tensely. You drifted in and out during the second, causing John to shift both of your positions so you had space to lie down. Now, you’re fast asleep.
Dr. Rojas came in once to let you know that Simon’s lung gave them one last scare during the surgery but that he came right back and everything was going smoothly. You tried to be genuinely thankful for his update, but you were just empty. You needed to see Simon.
John stays alert while you sleep. He’s watching the movie but paying more attention to every person who passes the doorway into the room. He’s happy you’re sleeping, but he’s ready to shake you awake at a moment’s notice. And that moment comes near the end of the movie when Dr. Rojas comes in a second time with a smile on his face.
You stir and push yourself up to sit before you even open your eyes or register what’s going on. But then you see the doctor and clumsily push yourself to your feet.
“He’s out of surgery,” he says. “It went very well. We need to monitor him for a bit before you can see him, and then we’ll have to monitor him going forward while he’s here to get a better picture of his recovery journey, but he did great.”
You sigh and feel your body go numb, the tension leaving you at once. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“I’ll be back when you can see him.”
He leaves and you fall back onto the couch. You can’t help but weep in pure relief. He made it, and you’ll be able to see him soon.
“That’s a good lad, huh?” John rubs your back. “Gave us a scare but he pulled through.”
You sniffle and nod, turning to him. “Thank you for being here. And for coming with him.”
“‘Course.”
“Go home now,” you insist. “I mean it. Get some sleep. You don’t have to go back, do you?”
He shakes his head. “Finished the job, we’re done.”
“So get outta here. I’ll keep you posted, I got this now.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He sighs and grunts when he pushes himself to stand. “I’ll be back, though.”
“I know.”
“You call me when you want to head back to base and get some rest.”
“I will.”
He nods one last time before properly bidding you farewell and disappearing. You feel refreshed. Simon is fine, he’s recovering, and you’ll be able to see him soon. Your emotions are all over the place and it makes it hard to sit still. You need to pace the room. You need to pace the hallway. You need to pace the floor.
An hour later Dr. Rojas finds you sitting on the floor in front of the couch with your knees tucked to your chest and your teeth latched onto the nail of your thumb. You scramble to stand.
“He’s just been moved. Are you ready to see him?”
“Yes, please,” you press your hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.
“Follow me.”
Taglist:
@kxllanxtdoor @joyalbadawy10 @ghostybaby000
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#ghost cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#simon riley angst#ghost angst
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DREAM BLUNT ROTATION ft. HIGHAF!POLY141
Synopsis: Silly 141 getting high with reluctant but experienced reader, happy belated 420 yall
Warning(s): Drug Use, Poly!141, AFAB!Reader, Sexually Suggestive?? Barely Proofread (i'm dyslexic sorry)
"This is an awful idea..."
Kyle's tone is halting as he observes the way, Johnny begins to pick apart the large bud of weed and spreads it out on the rolling papers that Simon purchased not too long ago. Simon wouldn't say where he pawned off the necessary ingredients for a good blunt, and neither he nor Johnny were going to ask.
"Don't be such a wet blanket, Kyle." Simon quips at the uneasy Sergeant.
Johnny snorts as he brushes off the stickiness of the bud and the aroma is rich, sweet, and pungent as it fills the Lieutenant's dorm. If they received any disciplinary action, Simon would take the fall (which was mighty presumptuous of him being that all the resin glands were on Johnny's fingertips, but they digress).
"Ease off on him, L.t.. He's the teacher's pet amongst us, like." Johnny winks at Kyle.
Kyle's face contorts in disgust and betrayal. "Piss off, MacTavish."
This sends the troublesome pair into a fit of giggles, but suddenly the door opens and they're all jostled by the new company. You freeze as you look at the three bozos lounging around in Simon's room. Crushed-up cans and empty bottles of ale were tossed around the room, half a eaten pizza left out on the coffee table where Johnny was busy rolling up a joint.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Your tone is exasperated and beyond wanting to comprehend why in the entire fuck they were deciding to roll up in the Lieutenant's room.
"Why." It wasn't even a question. You really just demanded an answer at this point.
"I didn't—" Kyle is the first to open his mouth, but you close your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him. You shake your head and then sharply exhale as you shut the door behind you.
"Good girl." Simon sarcastically praises as you wordlessly sit next to Kyle.
Johnny giggles at the way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment as you tuck in your legs and lean comfortably to the side.
"Fuck you." You spat at him. "I could have you reported."
"Under what jurisdiction?"
You sit there with a disgruntled expression on your face and you're aware of the smug look that hides behind his stupid balaclava-clad face. Johnny isn't even high yet, but he's giggling like a maniac at everything Simon says. It's the thrill of getting caught red-handed with contraband and bloodshot eyes that makes him lightheaded and giddy. Not that they were bound by any real-world laws or regulations because the 141 operated outside the chain of command, but Price finding out would certainly be a damper in their mood.
But your frown turns into an evil simper. "I'll tell, Price."
And the mood drops for a moment, but Simon loves to challenge you. It's practically etched into his DNA to rile you up in any way he can.
"Go ahead, ducky."
"Don't call me that."
And Simon's hit a nerve, but that all seems to dissipate as soon as Johnny places the rolled-up joint between his lips and sparks up. The first sweet inhale relaxes every rigid nerve in the Scotsman's body as he passes it off to his Lieutenant and leans against the wall. Simon lifts his mask and your jaw ticks at his exposed flesh. His lips are a pretty pink that wraps around the spliff, before toking the absolute fuck out of it and holding it in before exhaling it out through his nose.
The pair exchange a look before nodding and grinning at each other. "Tha's good shit, maaate."
"C'mon, Kyle." Simon coos, beckoning him over. Kyle moves ever so slightly in his direction, but your hand grasps his wrists halting him back.
"Oh, come now, [name]. Don' be uptight. 's all good vibes round 'ere." The masked idiot smirks at you before passing it off. Kyle glances over at your disapproving stare before hesitantly taking a hit. It doesn't even take a second before he's coughing his lungs out and Simon and Johnny are cackling, keeling over on the tiny bunk. You think it may break under their weight at any given moment, but that's just wishful thinking.
"That's not how you do it, Kyle." You chide, seizing the joint from him and you're drawing in the smoke yourself as you demonstrate the proper way of inhaling it. Simon and Johnny go silent as they observe you clearly very shocked by your sudden volunteer.
"Gotta hold it properly." You bring the joint to your lips, comfortably positioning it between your fingers.
"Don't inhale too quickly, or you'll cough your lungs out like you did just now. Take your time and hold it before releasing it, slowly." You indicate to him once more and the THC unravels months of built-up tension embedded in your body now that you got a proper hit.
You peer down at the spliff as you exhale the smoke. "Damn, that's good shit. Where did you twats get this?" Chuckling a bit at your usage of their own slang on them.
"Though' we were pourin' poison in the well, but the water is already spiked, it seems." Simon is lying back against the wall, propped up on his elbow with one leg flat and the other is bolstered up. He's relaxed as hell, surveying you like a cat as his tail swishes around with piquing interest. And Johnny is like his orange cat counterpart, licking his paws and rubbing his head as they lounge together on cloud nine.
"Mmm, she's always been like that. Naughty lassie." Johnny teases as he moves closer to you. He's sitting on your right as he eyes the way Kyle successfully follows your directions.
"Aye, tha's a good lad." Johnny praises, rubbing his thigh and Kyle is blinking up at him with hazy, honeyed eyes.
And for some reason you're taking offense to that. "Hey what about me?" You pout at him.
And he's beaming when his baby blues flicker to you. Calloused palm flattening against the expanse of your exposed flesh, riddling your thigh with gooseberries. There is a slight snatch in your breath as he caresses you but you don't move away and it's quickly starting to feel a little heavy as you feel everyone's eyes on you.
But before your body can even react, the door is getting barged into and there stands a very irate Price who literally looks like steam is pouring out of his ears. And just when you think that you're all about to get your asses handed to you, Price plucks the spliff from Kyle's fingers, opens the window and everyone is clamoring to rise from their seats thinking that he's going to toss it out. But you're all dead wrong.
My mans is taking the biggest puff out of all four of you before he jovially steeps the smoke out of his nostrils and he's nodding in approval, "Aye, tha's good shit."
There's a collective sigh of relief that settles upon the 141 before Simon speaks.
"Christ, Boss, least warn us."
"Thought y' were gonna bite o'r heads off." Johnny leans against the window sill, left of his Captain.
Price chuckles as he takes another brief toke before passing it off to Simon who was on his right.
"I should've, you lot were gonna finish it before I even got a toke."
Simon gazes over at you from where he's posted, inhaling the last few hits of the blunt, but you and Kyle are fucking zooted. I'm talkin heads rolled back against the couch cushions and you're gone.
And he is choking on the smoke as he laughs at the both of you before Johnny and Price glance over and join him. Their giggles attract your hazy attention and you lazily toss a pillow at the back of Johnny's head. But then you're cowering away as he approaches you in a jokingly menacing manner, wrapping his arms around you like he's about to perform a tickle attack.
The sound of your stomach growling rips through the silliness and he pouts at you and rubs your belly.
"You hungry, ducky?" Price is towering over you from behind the couch you are situated at, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear and you feel your cheeks warming up at your Captain's sedative voice.
You nod at him with a giddy smile, and before Price even opens his mouth Kyle is pulling up his Uber Eats app to order everyone's go-to Chinese take-out meals.
And as Price is extolling his Sergeant by lightly massaging his shoulders, Simon is taking your chin between his fingers and tilting his head at you.
"Y'got everyone at y'r beck an' call, ducky." But the nickname no longer has its previous bitterness. It's replaced with endearment as he pinches your cheek and that draws out a smile from you.
"Didn' know ye were s'experienced." Johnny's warm breath fans over your neck and you're starting to feel a buzz that's reminiscent of your uni days.
You hum in response as you feel Price's fingers gently scratch at your scalp, and there's a gentle euphoria that warms you to your bones.
"Quit yappin' her ear off." Price scolds the two, but something about the way you're being simultaneously taunted and dotted over is starting to ignite a bit of desire within you.
You shut your eyes and all your senses feel elevated as you're being coddled on all sides. And as much as Simon loves getting under your skin, there is something about the way you're blissfully sitting there not having a care in the world as everyone trills around you.
"Like a kitten." He warbles, caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch.
"A very cute kitten." Johnny nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck as his fingers brush against your knee. A giggle leaves your lips and you're squirming away from his ticklish stubble.
But every way you're moving, you're in the hands of a different man who's relishing in your coquettish behavior. It's overstimulating really. So, the minute you hear wrapping at the front door you're jumping out of your seat to check out who's behind the peephole.
But it feels like a slo-mo scene as you're running away from the giggly, dazed men who follow closely behind you. By the time you're reaching the door, Johnny has already tripped over the end table, Simon is heaving for air and slipping over the barstools in the kitchen in a loud clatter, Price is attempting to help them both up but can't stop laughing his ass off and Kyle, well, mans is passed out on the couch with his mouth wide open.
You can hardly even contain yourself as you open the door, and the delivery man on the other side is flummoxed yet amused at the men in the background and then there was you. Giddy as hell, palms facing up with the most bloodshot eyes.
And before he can even get a word out, Johnny is wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you back to the couch while Price is sending him off with a wad of cash as he grabs the food.
"Chattin' up the delivery lads, aye?" Johnny teases, as he pulls you into his lap and begins to tickle you. The smell of food is waking Kyle up from his little half-baked nap and he's ruffling your hair as food is being passed out.
"She doesn't need to bother. She's too fit for that." Kyle opens up his kung pao chicken and the smell floods into your nostrils, but he's already on it. "Say 'ahh'." He lifts the chopsticks to feed you the delicious morsels and you happily accept it with a jubliant hum.
"Spoiled little thing." Price chirps as he shoves his lo mein into his mouth. The sauce coats the corners of his mouth and the ends of his stache.
"An' who's fault is that?" Simon gestures at his Captain with his chopsticks. It was true. As their Captain, naturally, they fell in line behind him, so when they saw how he would pamper you excessively they would do it too. And not because of the fact that they were good little soldiers, but because it opened the doorway for them to openly chat you up or (consensually) feel up on you.
Price lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah, bullshit! The minute you lot clocked the opportunity to grab her, you were all over it!"
Johnny licks his lips as you feed him a crab rangoon. "Can ye blame us?"
You quickly cover his mouth with your hand and scrunch your nose up at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Johnny!"
He playfully nibbles at your hand and you're then being scooped up by Kyle, who is more than happy to accept your weight in his lap. And Johnny is moaning about how you're being stolen away.
"She's not being swiped if she's scarpering off by herself!" Kyle laughs as he's swatting away any attempts at Johnny trying to confiscate you back.
So, of course, Price wants to dig his heels into Simon when he sees how lackadaisical he is.
"Simon couldn't pull her even if he gave it a good go."
Dark, piercing eyes dangerously flicker to the smug Captain who lays back against the arm chair, sipping on his ale and waits as he takes the bait. One thing that Simon doesn't like is when someone's threatening his hold on his position in any type of situation that especially being you.
"I don't need t'bother." He retorts, taking a sip of his own drink as he man spreads on the sofa.
"Oh, and why's that?" Price is intrigued now. Simon narrows his eyes at him but continues to stuff his face with food, sticky bits of rice garnish the sides of his mouth. This doesn't stop the Captain from pressing the matter and it's now starting to capture your attention as Johnny misses your mouth when he attempts to feed you some stir fry and it stains for your cheek instead.
But Simon is effortlessly patient and cool as a cucumber when he's being dogged on by everyone now, and you're observing the situation closely. He carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a last swig of his drink before he gets up to clean up after himself. And Price is almost convinced that Simon has given up as used, balled up napkins are being tossed at him by Johnny and Kyle, but in one swift movement you're being tossed over the behemoth's shoulder. A squeak barely manages to escape you as he pats your ass and the others are scrambling to get you as they playfully jest at Simon.
"Ah, no fair!" Johnny tugs at Simon's waistband, and lets go with a loud snap to his pelvis.
"Unhand her!" Kyle laughs as he tries to grab your foot, but he's only left with your ankle sock.
And while those two idiots finally gather themselves to give in to chasing after him, Simon is booking it to his room, and Price is left cackling on the armchair enjoying the rest of his meal.
"Simon!" You giggle, as he's enforcing the door and locking it with one arm as you barely dangle off his shoulder.
He balances you out just for a moment before he tosses you onto his bed and successfully turns the lock. Johnny and Kyle's shouting can be heard on the other side of the door, but Simon doesn't seem to give two fucks as he's approaching you. You're laid out on his bed, cheeks flustered when he towers over you, grasps your wrist, and raises them above your head.
And as his lips are hovering above yours the door is getting busted into as Simon is getting tackled to the floor as the Sergeants hold him down. Your eyes ream at the little giggly clusterfuck, and then in strolls Price who sits on the end of the bed and scoops you into his arms. You feel dizzy in his warmth as you snuggle against him and he kisses the top of your head.
You begin to realize something while you watch Simon turn into a cackling mess as he's being simultaneously tickled mercilessly by Johnny and Kyle. Price has a triumphant smile plastered on his face. It creeps up slowly on you, but he had succeeded in properly baiting all three men, so he could get his way with you.
His azure hues shift to you and he's kissing your cheek. It makes your heart flutter, but you're shaking your head at him when he's gazes down at you with that impish expression.
"Naughty little minx." You wave your finger at him with a bubbly smile. And he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck, tittering away because he knows he's been caught red-handed.
#call of duty#call of duty imagines#simon ghost riley#call of duty x reader#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#captain john price#cod#poly 141#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap mactavish#soap call of duty#johnny soap mactavish#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#kyle garrick#task force 141#141 x reader#captain price#price x reader#ghost x you#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#420#johnny mactavish#sergeant soap#kyle gaz garrick x reader
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PRICE & GAZ IN GHILLIE SUITS 🍃 | MODERN WARFARE II
#they’re on a father son hunting trip#captain price#john price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#kyle garrick#call of duty#cod#codedit#modern warfare ii#mwii#task force 141#gamingedit
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Okay hear me out, what about more info on Simon's younger daughters boyfriend. How would he be? Would Simon accept him?
Sorry if that's too many characters added into your headcanons, just the colab you did with that ither amazing writer is FEEDING me.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley / wife!Reader
Summary: Simon meets the first boyfriend of his youngest daughter - and is not impressed.
Word Count: 2.2k
Notes: Okay babe listen, I know you sent this in like 6 months ago but I just doom scrolled through my inbox because I was so sad about my writing slump and then BAM. This request came up.
Get ready for more girl Dad Simon y‘all. Keeping up with the Rileys continues! A slice of life.
I suggest reading
Simon being the ultimate Girl Dad™️
and this series of headcanons about him meeting the eldest daughter’s boyfriend first!
I also wrote a short story about Simon finding out that he will become a father, it‘s called Lime-Sized. It‘s one of my absolute favorites!
All of these work together as one big universe ☺️
Simon knows that it is wrong to pick favorites amongst your own children, truly, he does. But he‘s never been able to help it when it came to his youngest daughter - she was free-spirited, funny, loud, clever.
He‘d adored her ever since she‘d laid her big chocolate eyes on him, ever since her small fingers had balled into a fist over his cheek and punched him as she wailed in his arms fresh out the womb.
Rationally, he knew that his attachment likely had to do with the fact that he‘d been retired by the time his second daughter came around, that he was able to be there for her first crawl, the first time she ate with a fork, the first laugh. How he had been the one to hear her first word: dada.
But to an outsider looking in, the Riley‘s simply had a clear divide. First daughter belonged to his wife, second daughter belonged to him. Easy. He took care of the women in his life, always worked hard to make sure that they had everything they could possibly need. Made sure that his girls never depended on anyone, least of all a man.
It had been hard for him when his eldest had brought home Matthew. He‘d pulled every register, every connection he had to find out not only his own academic and criminal history, but also that of his parents and close relatives.
You‘re being an overbearing busybody, his wife had hissed at him, when he‘d printed out the addresses of Matthew‘s family. Let her have her own experiences.
And, sure. She‘d been right. His daughter had chosen wisely, picked an upstanding young man for herself who had never been anything but respectful to the entire family. He‘d never felt the need to check in on them too much, had allowed his daughter to travel abroad with her boyfriend as her graduation gift.
But things were different this time. His youngest was wilder at heart, not as cautious and thoughtful when picking a suitable boyfriend for herself.
Which was fine, because so far she‘d always come to him to ask for advice, or when her grades had been bad, or when she‘d had too much to drink at a party and needed to be picked up. Simon was always there, would always be there.
But recently, his daughter had shared less and less of what was going on outside of their family home.
Give her time, his wife had cooed, kissing Simon‘s cheek when he stood by the rainy window, sulking. She‘s just a teenager after all.
And he had. He hadn’t commented when she decided to dye half her hair green, hadn‘t said anything about the nose piercing either (though he was glad that she took it out after a month or so), didn‘t tell her to turn that god awful music down before 11 PM.
But enough was enough. They‘d come home from their weekly shopping trip to Sainsbury‘s, his wife holding Simon‘s hand over the console as they listened to a podcast in companionable silence. He‘d just stroked his calloused thumb over her smooth skin, had opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to go out for dinner later that week - but then Simon spotted them.
His baby girl, the apple of his eye, crushed against some boy, lips locked outside of their house.
Simon was tempted to slam his hand onto the horn, or perhaps swerve left and run over the skateboard that little punk had left at the side of the road, in favor of kissing his daughter.
Only his wife’s sudden firm grip on his hand kept him from acting irrationally. Simon exhaled sharply through his nose, then pressed the right button to remotely open the garage to their home. His daughter had jumped away from the guy, wide chocolate eyes staring at her parents like a deer caught in the headlights.
There was only one rule when it came to boys: introduce them first, go out after. Simple. Easy to follow. Or so Simon had thought.
"Darling," his wife said sternly, and he gritted his teeth as he parked and cut the engine. "Relax. It‘ll be fine."
He nodded, helped her carry the groceries upstairs. There was no sign of the boyfriend anywhere, only his youngest daughter suddenly doing her homework at the kitchen table. Her ears were flushed bright red, eyes on the papers in front of her.
"Have an interesting day at school?" Simon asked, and her guilty eyes flitted between him and her mum. He‘d crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling oddly betrayed.
"Y-yeah, uhm, it was alright."
Simon waited. When nothing came, he jerked his head towards the front door.
"You plan on seeing 'im again?"
His daughter lowered her forehead onto the math problem before nodding. Exhaling, he caught the small smile of his wife. It calmed him, like always.
"Six o'clock, this Saturday. Bring 'im around, Matthew and your sister will be here for dinner."
Despite her protests, Simon stayed firm.
She got out the big guns as well: puppy dog eyes, stony silence, pancakes for his work lunch.
But his daughter had been the one that broke the rule, and following that very simple guideline had helped put his worries at ease before. He wouldn’t budge, didn’t think that he was being too harsh either. Traditional, maybe. But no skater boy looking punk would get to paw at his daughter without introducing himself beforehand. Nope. No way.
Saturday came quicker than expected, and Simon could feel Matthew standing behind him, back straight. All of them wore something nice, his wife had cooked one of his favorite recipes, and his eldest daughter was trying to cheer up his youngest.
All would be well, Simon told himself. He‘d found nothing out of the ordinary during his background check, the boy had acceptable grades and a not too cringey social media presence. Divorced parents that shared custody, an older brother. His daughter had admitted to meeting him in her chemistry class. Not a terrible start.
But then the lad arrived, with dirty sneakers and a god awful haircut, and Simon‘s mood plummeted. His wife hugged him as a welcome, before ushering them all into the living room.
Dinner was a tense affair, with his daughter sitting uncomfortably between her boyfriend and sister. She even snapped at her parents several times, something she hadn‘t done in quite a long time. It was usually a good indicator for her stress levels.
Tim‘s gluten and lactose intolerant, mum. He can‘t even eat half of this!
No, we won‘t stay long, we‘re going out later.
Dad, stop asking him so many questions!
Simon had resigned himself to silent observations after that last one. He was a little hurt that his darling would speak to him in such a way, that she felt the need to defend this guy instead of letting her boyfriend speak for himself. Though, he couldn‘t even blame her.
Whenever Timothy, or Tim, had opened his mouth, he‘d sounded bored. Almost disinterested. Like meeting the family of his girlfriend was no big deal, like he‘d done this a dozen times before. Or perhaps just didn‘t care.
And that simply wouldn’t do. Care was the one thing in the Riley household that stood above all else. Without really meaning to, they had ended the dinner with Simon and Matthew staring down the new boyfriend, arms crossed with similar scowls on their faces. His older daughter was frowning a little, his wife smiling and waving as she wished the two of them a good night - but not before reminding Tim that their daughter would be home by 12, and not a minute after.
Matthew asked them if he‘d been that bad, and they were quick to assure him that he‘d been a much more pleasant young man. Simon still remembered that night fondly, sometimes revisited the scared little face his daughter’s boyfriend had worn when he got a proper look at all his military accomplishments and office interior. Good old times.
They stayed awake that night, and noted with satisfaction that the door downstairs fell shut half past eleven with a heavy thud. His daughter came storming up the stairs, pausing in front of her parent’s bedroom for only a second before continuing down the hall. His wife exhaled, closing her book.
"This will be interesting."
The three months that followed were rocky to say the least. Their daughter never invited her boyfriend over for another dinner, and as far as Simon knew, she hadn’t even tried to sneak him in when the Rileys were gone either. Like this house had some kind of invisible salt circle around it, and the demonic presence of pubescent boys was not allowed in. Good. It suited him just fine.
But the downside to this was, that Simon couldn‘t be sure what she was up to once school was over.
He had never crossed the boundary of tracking his children via GPS signal before, didn‘t plan on starting now, either. But he was worried. Whenever he saw his youngest, she either looked radiant with happiness or downtrodden. Circles lined her eyes more often, and he hoped it really was due to the upcoming exams, and not because her boyfriend was causing her grief, or keeping her up too late.
Sometimes they heard her argue loudly over the phone in her room, voice muffled. His wife had chastised him for lingering in the hallway too long, and Simon had retreated into his office. Sulking.
He often did that when he needed to think, looking at the weapons hidden behind safety glass. He‘d long since shed his Lieutenant rank, had left the special forces behind. It still brought him comfort to think that the most dangerous thing in his life these days were his wife‘s kitchen knifes.
Simon itched to call Johnny, ask him for advice. The Scotsman had a son as well, almost the same age as his daughters. He wanted to pick his brain, wanted to vent to a man that understood the frustrations of not being able to break and shoot his way out of a situation.
Instead, Simon poured himself a stiff drink, and watched some rugby in the living room.
"Daddy," his daughter’s voice over the phone was stifled, like she was holding back a sob. "C-can you come get me, please?"
Simon shot to his feet so quickly, the sunchair toppled over behind him. He‘d been enjoying one of the rare English afternoons without cloud cover or drizzle, only wearing shorts and frying some sausages on a barely used grill. His wife pushed her reading glasses higher, throwing him a startled look over the edge of her romance novel.
"Where are you?" He growled out, already on his way inside. Simon snatched the key to his car, then threw on an old shirt from the hamper in the downstairs bathroom. "What happened?"
"I just- I just need you to come get me, please."
"Send me your location. I‘m leaving now, honey."
Thoughts and worst case scenarios raced through his mind as he pulled up Google Maps. Simon broke several traffic laws as he made his way to the distant neighborhood, where his daughter was waiting on a park bench already. Cute. If she really thought that walking a couple streets down from Tim‘s house would keep him from realizing where she‘d been, she was sorely mistaken.
She jumped up as soon as she recognized his car, then came rushing over. His daughter carried an old gym bag with some faded SAS patches on it, her face red from crying. She threw her belongings onto the backseat, then climbed into the passenger side and slammed the door shut.
"Honey," Simon started, knuckles white from where he gripped the steering wheel tightly. He hadn‘t thought of murdering anyone in a good long while, but today might be the day where he would consider it again. No one hurt his daughters. No one.
"Oh, it‘s so stupid!" She raged, angrily wiping her cheeks as more tears started pouring out against her will. "He‘s such- such an asshole. I wish I never fucking met him!"
Simon exhaled, threw the car in reverse and slowly drove them home.
"Tell me what happened."
She launched into a long explanation and deeply detailed description of her relationship with Timothy. Things she‘d never told him before, a story that wasn‘t even close to being finished by the time they‘d parked. Simon sat there with her, humming in understanding when his daughter derailed into a rant over her teachers and one of her frenemies Lauren, before getting back on track.
"And can you believe the audacity," she hit the soft leather of her seat. "To show up to his friend‘s party when he was bitching and moaning about needing time to 'reflect' on our relationship and to be by himself?"
"Unbelievable," Simon supplied, fighting a smile. His daughter threw his hands up in the general sign of I am so done with this bullshit.
"You were right, daddy. He is a knobhead, I never should have gone out with him in the first place."
"I never called him that."
She barreled on, green purple hair tucked behind one ear. "I won‘t look at another guy again until I‘m in uni. Boys are not worth the bloody headache, I‘m telling ya."
"If you say so, bug. Just bring 'em around if you change your mind."
My general COD writing masterlist with all my longer stories, a COD headcanons masterlist including this one + the COD Halloween Monster Special. It‘s all linked separately in my pinned blog post for easy navigation as well!
#imperihoe writes#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod fluff#simon ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon riley imagine#ghost cod fanfic#cod headcanon#cod imagine#cod ghost x you#cod ghost fluff#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#simon as a dad#john soap mactavish
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Omega Ghost- Puppy Fever Headcanons
- Simon doesn’t think he can have pups. Not because he doesn’t want them. But because he thinks he physically can’t. His body has been through so much damage that doctors told him that it would be nearly impossible for him to carry pups of his own.
- He hasn’t sought out fertility treatments, even if he’s mated or otherwise. He has a mindset of “If it’s meant to be it’s meant to be, if not, oh well.” even thought it kind of stings.
- That being said he still gets the occasional puppy fever. It’s not as intense as most omegas but there’s subtle changes in his behavior since he’ll never in a million years admit that he wants one.
- Like for instance, when he has down time, sometimes he can be caught watching videos of pups teething, learning how to walk and crawl and things like that. He’ll claim he fell down a rabbit hole and just got caught up in it if you catch him though.
- His eyes will linger on a visibly expecting omega. There’s a sense of sadness and envy in his eyes but it motivates him to keep on fighting to make the world just a little safer for pups who are new to the world and gives him the slightest chance of hope that one day things will be safe enough to where he could get treatment and have his very own pup brought into the world.
- If he does end up having a pup of his very own in the future, he’d retire the mask for good. After fighting for so long he deserves to reap the benefits and spend time with his pup.
#a/b/o dynamics#if you don't like omegaverse don't read#omegaverse#abo#abo headcanons#pack 141#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon riley
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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝟔
You're not sure whether asking Nikto how he worked out what your favourite foods are is a good idea. Realistically, you know that men in his field are required to be perceptive, to pick out the smallest of details which may be useful later. He's been in your house so many times, in your fridge for a left over slice of pie, or the less that you can barely consider a garage to grab whatever tool he'd needed to fix your wobbly fencepost. On the one hand, his awareness of you, what you like and dislike, is comforting. It feels safe to have someone so constantly tuned in on your frequency. Safe.
On the other?
Having someone so impossibly attentive to your needs is unsettling.
It's been far too long since you've had someone shadowing your day-to-day life - and Nikto is, undeniably, like a shadow.
The picnic is - it's really sweet. Well intentioned. The execution, admittedly is rudimentary, but you're just splitting hairs. A guy set you up a picnic after you practically sucked off his face in your kitchen. You're pretty sure most would've run had they felt the sheer reverence, the need in your kiss. He fixed your fence.
Now you're sat rather awkwardly beside one another, picking at a strange assortment of cheeses and fruits, making stilted conversation as you watch a herd of cows graze a couple of fields down.
"How did you know my fence was broken?" You hum in an absent, obvious attempt to keep the conversation going. Tough considering you barely know anything about Nikto, and yet he seems to know everything about you.
Your weak endeavour towards filling the stillness between the two of you obviously doesn't go unnoticed - nor does the way your make an effort to dig deeper and see just how much of you Nikto actually catches.
"You hit it with your car a few weeks ago." He states bluntly, leaving you flushing a beet red. Foolishly, you'd always believed that your sub-par driving skills were just imagined, that no one saw you the way you saw yourself. Clearly, you've been wrong all along.
"You do have your drivers license, yes?" Nikto continues to chide, unable to help the way his blood rushes south when you blush, fluttering your lashes as you avert your gaze to the strawberry you'd been just about to eat.
"Mhm." You mumble, trying to feign an indignant look - futile, seeing as he's already caught you in the act of your embarrassment.
"I can help you if you would like." Nikto utters, before he too turns his burning face towards the gingham blanket he'd found whilst trawling the grocery store in the small hours of this morning, trying to be as prepared as possible for your date. He's far too quickly become accustomed to your little quirks and reactions, the way you flinch like a frightened bunny from loud noises, or worry at your lip when you're nervous but still trying to seem nonchalant. You're hardly ever nonchalant about anything. He sees that too.
"Is it the car that you struggle with?" He tries, so desperately, to claw himself from the hole he's seemingly fallen into, painfully aware that he's probably coming off as some condescending, patronising prick. He knows you can drive. Kind of.
However, the thought of helping you, spending time with you, taking all of the menial tasks of daily life out of your hands, he can't help but to yearn for it.
Or maybe it's just you. You're the one thing he finds himself wanting for after a life of solitude. You, your silly little shoes, and strawberry flavoured lips, your bows and pearls. You with a smile so bright it's blinding, and a laugh that could bring the cruelest of men to his knees.
You are what he yearns for. The silver lining to the rainclouds which have so long darkened his days.
You, you, you.
He doesn't even realise you'd been talking until you stop. Only, of course, to take the next best course of action towards capturing his attention, shuffling towards him until you're sat flush against his side, blinking up at him with a look that clearly suggests that you're asking for permission. The fact that he doesn't get hard right then and there is a miracle - though he's not sure if it's one that'll last. At least, not when you finally work up the guts to crawl up into his lap like a needy cat, searching for attention by any means possible.
Last week he was barely refraining from tearing your clothes off and taking you on the counter in your kitchen. This is far more intimate.
This is what he wants.
He wants to see the way your cheeks flush pink when his hands slide up your skirt, just enough to brush the calloused pad of his thumb over the delicate lace of your underwear. With bated breath, he wants to watch the way the late afternoon sun turns your hair into a halo of molten metal, cascading from the crown of your head in some glorious inferno.
The little sound of your breath hitching as he noses at your jaw is only the first nail in the cruelest of coffins, burying him alive under the crushing weight of his adoration for you. This, he thinks, this is what he's waited for. This is both his reward, and his punishment for the toil of his career, of his life. His reward, you, so sweet and soft in his lap, pliable as gold, glittering as the brightest of precious stones.
Breaking you, breaking your pretty, trusting heart, is entirely out of the question. He'd rather shoot himself in the kneecaps. Walk headfirst into enemy territory and beg to be tortured. Step on a landmine.
Any and all of it would be better than seeing you hurt.
Whilst he can't find the words for the way he adored you, he can most definitely find the actions.
Nothing, no man, has ever made you feel the way you do as Nikto eases you to lie back on the picnic blanket, hooking your knees over his shoulders. A kiss to your inner thigh.
"I hope you don't mind people hearing, Princess. I intend to make you scream."
#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare#Nikto#cod nikto#Nikto x reader#nikto x y/n#nikto x f!reader#nikto x you#call of duty nikto#mwii nikto#celestialwhoree#say goodnight n go
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USE YOUR HEART ft. NEEDY!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY
Warning(s): Sexual Content, Grinding, AFAB!Reader, Mentions of Narcotics
Synopsis: Simon is high off of morphine and it reveals his true feelings for reader...
Author's note: Idk because @dmitriene told me to do it and i <3 her
"I don't wanna be alone."
His voice breaks as he reaches out to you. His usual stoic demeanor had completely diminished in your presence. For the first time, Simon was needy. You gaze down at his hand gently gripping your hand, "I need you." He says. Pleas even. Dark, stormy, and now conflicted eyes are peering up at you and he tugs you toward him. You didn't know how to react. Seeing Simon so injured and broken makes you feel some type of way. Somewhat wrong, but somehow...powerful?
"You need me?" You finally spoke up. His Adam's apple bobs up and down.
"Yes.” He croaks out.
The morphine that has been coursing in his system finally kicks in and you were experiencing the lowering inhibitions of Simon Riley, not Ghost.
The Simon Riley laying out on the infirmary bed before you at this moment was vulnerable, desperate, and reliant on your presence and aid--insistent even.
But naturally, you're hesitant. A situation like this is compromising and delicate. Given the nature of the circumstances and his stature, he is obviously still at an advantage, but it feels wrong to pounce at the opportunity. You don't want to feel like a predator skulking about as he studies you with reliant, onyx hues.
You look at the time on your watch.
12:38 AM
It was quite late, but the tugging of his hand over yours disrupts your train of thought.
"C'mere. I want you by my side." He susurrates and you're in a bit of a trance at the resonance of his soothing, sleepy tone. It's not its usual gruff and gravelly, but instead a lulling rasp that pulls you in.
"It's late, Lieutenant." You gently chide as you attempt to pry his fingers off your wrist, but he takes his free hand over your own and pulls you flush against him. Goddamn, he was strong. Even in his dazed and confused state, he is built like a fuckin' boulder.
But he's not listening to you as he fiddles with your fingers, tracing over the skin and where it creases and finely wrinkles. Over the nail bed, and the unfiled ridges, down to the chip that you earned from earlier when you reached for your gun in your holster too quickly. He's thumbing over the half-moon on your thumb and then the scar on the meat of your palm before he brings it to his masked lips as if to kiss it over the fabric.
A small, shuddering breath escapes you, and your eyes are glazing over before you swallow thickly. He cups your hand over his jaw and inhales sharply as he closes his eyes.
"Don't care." He replies, curling his bicep around your waist and secures you so have nowhere to go.
Your heart thuds at the contact and your cheeks are teeming with warmth. And suddenly it feels like the heat in there is turning to the max because you're sweating like a dog under his keen gaze and snug hold on you.
"Want you to stay." And it's as if he's speaking purely from the heart when he looks at you like that. You want nothing more but to crumble into his arms and cave into whatever feelings are lurking within you, but there's an urge to maintain your professionalism. And Simon senses that. He wants you to let go.
Why? He didn't know. Be it the drugs, the near-death experience, or the fact that you look utterly gorgeous under the strong moonlight or all of the above; he wants you with all his being.
His bandage-wrapped fingers loop around the bottom of his mask and he's lifting it up to expose just his lips as it scrunches up under his nose. Even if you have seen the sight a multitude of times over the years of knowing your Lieutenant, it is always as awestriking as it was the first time you saw it. His pretty rosy lips kiss at your wrist and you're stunned.
"Stay." He croaks out.
"And then what?"
You can't help yourself from asking such a silly question. You just need to feel needed by him because there is just something about the clinginess in his body language that pulls you in for more. If Simon is being honest right now, he's on cloud motherfucking nine. He's so high that everything feels like tunnel vision right now and you're the only damn thing he can focus on, not that he would want to focus on anything else.
So when he's telling you to stay, he damn well means it. But he also wants more. He's telling himself not to be too hasty, at least the logical part of him, though he is following his heart's desires. And his heart is conveying to him that he yearns for your closeness, for all your regard, and selfishly enough, your own heart.
At this point, all reasoning is being tossed out the window when he fixates on your trembling, shimmering eyes and your quivering glossed lips that are slightly chapped. But he's thinking to himself, one kiss. One kiss would fix that for you.
Simon is no longer struggling to sit up when he's tensing you closer to him feeling the sweat wetting the small of your back. His brows slightly raise and you feel your cheeks flush at his little observation, but he's not halting his motion to close the short distance between you two. He's bringing his hand over the nape of your neck, carding his scarred fingers through the tendrils of your hair and a soft sigh leaves your lips.
And the way you visibly relax draws out a small smile onto his lips as your foreheads collide. You don't even dare to open your eyes. You swallow thickly as you feel your breath become shallow and sharp. It fans against his lips and he's feels even more enticed to just kiss you.
"Dammit, [name]..." He finally breathes out. And you're eyes are on him and he can feel a thrill creep up his chine when he sees the flash of longing overcome your half lidded gaze.
And now you're yearning to bridge the distance, creeping closer to him, nudging your nose against his, and faintly brushing your lips over the stubble on his philtrum. You notice how his chest huffs out, stuttering as it leaves his lungs.
Long blonde lashes tickle at your own as your lips graze and you're heart is thumping out of your chest. You feel yourself holding back from your own hankerings but the moment that Simon brings his thumb to skim over your bottom lip, you feel the tension snap like a rubberband and you're crashing your lips against his. To hell with ethical conduct and decorum, you want nothing more than to satiate your thirst for him.
And with every kiss, you feel like your hunger is being appeased. The ferocity that grows in the depths of your groin is clawing out as you clamber on top of him and you're tuning out the noisy heartbeat monitor that's becoming rapid. And it cuts out, thanks to the swift movement of Simon pulling out the cord so he can nestle his hands under your shirt and slip his tongue between your open-mouth kisses.
He's losing himself in you and he doesn't care because the feeling of your nails digging into his abdomen is more than pleasant. As if the morphine wasn't dizzying enough, he was starting to feel like he was reaching some sort of seventh heaven. Especially when he hears the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he thumbs atop your hardened bud and gently tweaks it between his fingers.
The tent that's starting to feel like it's pitching between his legs is getting ground upon and he shudders at how fucking good it feels.
"Fuck." He murmurs as he lifts your shirt up to expose your breast to him and he's latching his lips to your sensitive nipple. It's a soft probing of his tongue against the erogenous zone and you're instantly arching your back and he grasps at your hips to abrade your clothed sex against him. And it feels so fucking good.
So, naturally, you're not stopping. And Simon can't help but become absorbed in your pleasure. Your milky moans are like music to his ears as he switches over to your other nipple. The friction builds in your lower belly as you get into a good rhythm and it becomes increasingly euphoric with every roll of your hips. And fuck, it's not even much but the way you are so touch-starved makes it all the better.
"Simon, I—hah—gonna—" You moan out, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his tongue swirls around your bud. He's already addicted to the way you're saying his name between your whimpers.
"Cum." He commands, as he clutches your hips to help achieve your oncoming orgasm. His sexy, raspy voice is enough to send you over the edge and a terrific gasp escapes you as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Your breath is gone and you feel like your voice melts into a deep, hot sweetness that soothes your electrifying nerves.
There is a brief pause of silence as you catch your breath and the embarrassment skulks in and you don't want to withdraw from him. You only focus on his heartbeat which slows and his breath that levels. Your throat tightens as you shift awkwardly and his hand on your hip feels a little limp. You take another moment to memorize how he smelled to help you calm your nerves.
The aroma of his natural musk enmeshed with the faint scent of cypress digs into your brain as you try your hardest to engrave his essence before it slips away. With one more breath of courage, you withdraw from him to face the music but it seems he's fast asleep. His thumb is still hooked into the belt loop of your jeans, and you can't help but giggle at him.
A small sigh leaves your lips as you calm down from your climax and your shaky fingers, lower his mask back down so it's stretching over his neck. Maybe if you slip away right now he'll think that it was just a nice little wet dream...
But you feel his hand cling to you as you try make your sweet escape.
"Thought I told ya to stay." He mumbles under his breath while he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you and making certain you're not leaving his side anytime soon.
There's a feeling of assurance that fluxes over your edginess and you can finally breathe again. Simon's body feels weightless as he lays in this infirmary bed with your toasty form atop his. It feels heavenly to have your figure pressed against him and he hums in contentment. He's replaying the sound of your moans and the way your body writhed under his touch. And you're starting to feel the rigidity of his dirty thoughts against the zipper of your jeans.
"You sure?" You murmur back, feeling the warmth sidle back into your cheeks.
His grin grows under his mask and you can feel it against your forehead. Sleep overtakes him, but he gives you one last squeeze.
"'m sure."
#use your heart#call of duty#cod#call of duty x reader#call of duty imagines#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#call of duty ghost#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x female reader#simon riley imagine#simon x reader#cod smut#call of duty smut#simon ghost smut#simon riley x y/n#cod x reader
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Virgin reader and older price 🤭🤭
(Not creepily older tho)
Feel free to ignore tho xx
“Such a pretty face <3”
Pairing; older!price x virgin!reader
Cw; price is in late thirties reader is in mid/late twenties ^^
Synopsis; your boyfriend is more than happy to help! But surprise!!! You’re a.. virgin? :(
A/n; kinda long so there’s a divider where nfsw starts!! Also dividers from @rookthornesartistry and @cafekitsune 💋
ˏ ˋ°•*⁀➷ TINDER WAS CERTAINLY NOT A GOOD PLACE TO FIND “LOVE.”
You knew that. But at a party with your friends, you were forced to make an account. “Oh cmon Y/N, you're still single after all this time? You know, Mya found her husband a Tinder, you should download it! You never know, you could find a real hit!” She babbled, and when two more of your friends joined in, you were pure pressured into getting that stupid fucking app.
But.. should you really be that mad? You gained a boyfriend who’s a total dilf minus the kid. It’s pretty nice actually, treated like a princess 24/7 and loved on. You love that he’s older too, he teaches you things.
So when he offers to watch movies with you, who are you to deny? Time with your lovely boyfriend is all you need. Sitting next to him with his hand gently gripping and rubbing your inner thigh. It’s been driving you crazy since this dumb movie started.
“You alright lovie?” He smirks, and you nod. “Yeah.. j-just a bit hot y’know?” Your breathing is heavy, you can’t really focus on the movie. “I understand Lovie.” Grinning, he trailed his thick fingers to your clothed cunt. skirt lifted, providing easy access.
“Wait- price..” you squirm, thighs slamming closed. “What’s wrong?” He freezes. “Price. I’m a virgin..” you’re almost ashamed. You’ve never told him before and you’re saying it now? Ugh, this is so fucking embarrassing. Tearing up a bit
“Hey hey, don’t cry lovie, it’s nothin’ to be ashamed about sweetheart.” He cups your cheek, making you look in his beautiful blue eyes. They make you feel so safe, y’know? Just so calm. And god he’s so soft, husband material but stern when he needs to be. “It’s okay sweetheart, really.”
“Really? You’re not mad or anything?” Your head tilts. “Why would I be mad? That’s absurd lovie.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. Beard tickling your soft skin. “I dunno, It’s just kinda embarrassing.” You watch as his face falls. “It’s not embarrassing. I was a virgin too once, just like everyone else in the world. So please stop saying it’s embarrassing sweetheart. Because I swear, it’s not.”
He always seems to have a way with his words. It amazes you sometimes. “Tell me you understand sweetheart.” He nods, and you do too. “I understand love. And. I know you said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but.. Can you uh.. touch me?” You aren’t too shocked when his eyes widen, followed by ‘Are you sure?’ Fuck this is embarrassing.
His finger is thick, it’s expected but you never knew it could feel this good. “Feels good love?” You nod, he wanted to keep watching the movie, but he made sure to keep paying attention to you. Of course, he did. But how the hell did he expect you to pay attention to this movie? What was happening again? Shit.. it’s one finger but it feels so damn good. Curling up on your G-spot, the rope tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap.
“Fuckkk..” you whine, grinding into his hand. Breath quickened when he rubbed on your puffy clit. “I asked a question sweetheart, wouldn’t an answer be nice?” You can almost hear that cocky smile if that was even possible. But it makes you tighten around him, drenching his fingers. “g-good it feels soo~ good” shuddering when he speeds up.
“Ya think another finger would fit?”
“Y-yes- please!” Who knew you could be so whiney? Not you. But price makes you feel so good. And if this is just his finger then what if-
You let out a pathetically loud moan, how the hell did you not notice him putting another one of his thick ass fingers in you? It feels so good though, you. “Bloody hell sweetheart. So fuckin wet right? Feel good?” He nods. Moving slow, then picking up the speed a bit. “M-mhm!” You whine, the rope in your stomach finally snapping and your vision blurring a bit. Coating his fingers in creamy cum. Your cum.
Your gooey walls tighten around his fingers, hand gripping at his arm. “N-Nghhh..” you moan, shuddering as he gently pulls his fingers out of your drenching hole. His fingers were coated in a thin layer of cum. You think you may be hallucinating when he licks his fingers clean. “And tastes fuckin’ magical sweetheart.” He grins, kissing your neck. Your cunt is cold, the wetness attracting the cool air.
“Price.. you’re hard as fuck..” you giggle, his dick making a menacing print in his pants. Was it possible to be that big? You’ve seen it before in the shower and stuff but it was soft then. He’s really a grower.
Safe to say you ended the night with him passionately fucking your puffy cunt. After you followed him to your shared bedroom of course. Whining in his ear as he whispered sweet praises into yours. The prep was good too. Tongue fucking you and rubbing your clit until you were technically brain dead. Giving you time and waiting for the green light to continue. And the aftercare was one of a kind, nothing you shouldn’t expect from a total sweetheart.
He’d set a nice warm bath for you and massage your skin, even if he didn’t fuck you rough at all he’d still take care of you!! :)
I got so carried away ughh!! 😭 but I really liked writing this 😆 reblogs and likes r appreciated!! Also if you too wanna submit an ask I would be more than happy to make you ask come true my love!
#faeridollz#cod x reader#faeridollz asks!!#cod smut#captain john price#price x reader#cod price#captain price#john price#captain johnathan price#faeridollzspeaks💗
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He found you. Again. | Part 1
Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Summary: You had never truly had any issues with what you thought was a creep with a crush, that is until you realized it was far more serious-but by then, it was too late.
Warnings: 18+, stalker, symptoms of panic, future smut
Word Count: 2.5k
(Not fully edited, apologies for any incorrect information!)
From someone with a username, to someone who had entirely become obsessed with your life, and all of its details since high school. You weren’t famous online, and you certainly didn’t try to be, in fact you enjoyed having only a few close friends. This once innocent crush became destructive when you found they had been talking to family members about you and what you, ‘were up to’. You knew that stalkers weren’t something to mess around with and once you had found the right people to talk to, you were able to file a restraining order which worked, for some time.
Years had gone by, and the interaction had totally abandoned your mind not hearing or seeing anything from the matter for so long, you assumed it had passed. That is until you were visiting your family’s home in your childhood town, and found a dark figure watching you from the roadside. Here, in this small town where this obsessive behavior had begun, in this home where you once felt warmth and safety you now felt dread and utter panic.
While you had just been passing in the upstairs hallway, you happened to look down and froze, as memories of the monster crawled up your spine causing you to bead sweat from anger or fear, you couldn’t tell. From this distance you wouldn’t guess it was a person, just a dark shadow as the sun was setting on the other side of your house, where your family was waiting for you to return.
You stood still, although your heart couldn’t help pounding in your chest until you could heart it reverberate in between your ears, a constant reminder of the fight or flight battle occurring in your mind. You felt a buzz in your back pocket causing you to flinch just enough to be noticeable, your phone. You considered reaching for it, not wanting to take your eyes off the figure, now standing facing you directly, a cold dark stare plastered over their hooded face looking up at you. Now that they’ve positioned themselves to face you more directly you take in more details, some that you recall being very different from years past. They seem slightly taller and broader, and stronger, much stronger. Although the coloration of the clothing is difficult to see from this distance, you can just make out that they are wearing large boots, and a jacket that made them look all the more intimidating while a hood kept their lurking eyes from yours. Your instincts tell you to scream, to yell for a family member to call the police, to come and take this thing that was so persistent in getting to you it made you sick. You couldn’t find it in your turning stomach to yell out, still feeling as if your feet were glued to the ground, your heartbeat the only thing confirming you weren’t dreaming.
You finally find it in you to reach for your phone, and instead of looking at the screen you held it close to your body, eyes still focused on the figure. You think through your options taking a second to realize that your family was just downstairs, a lump forming in your throat, considering if he were bold enough to try and come inside. You could look down to call the police, although you had a feeling it wouldn’t be that effective seems how they were standing outside your home- and then it occurred to you. How did he know you were back in town? You kept every detail of your personal life offline, not even allowing friends to post much about you. This thought made your stomach flip again, when you hear a saving grace from just downstairs.
Relentless barking from the family dog caused the hulking figure to saunter farther from the house backwards, only turning their back when necessary. They finally make their way across the street where they jump a fence and vanish as if they had already routed it out in their mind.
As soon as the figure is gone you yell out for your mother, who comes bounding up the stairs along with the dog into your room, who was simply happy to see you and who had unsuspectingly protected you and your family. You scramble for your phone, words fumbling from your mouth in trying to explain what had happened to your now very concerned mother.
‘What do you mean he’s back?, who is he?’
‘T-The stalker- the guy who we got a restraining order for just a few years ago!?, You don’t remember him? ‘ You ramble out breathlessly, your heart still racing, hoping with everything that she would believe you.
‘Oh honey no, who in their right minds would come at this hour, and let alone after so long-‘
She’s taken aback when she sees the piercing look you give her, when she’s able to finally see the sweat beading down your face, your hands still shaking just as intensely as your breathing.
‘Are you sure, and I mean sure it was him- no chances it wasn’t?’
You already have the phone to your ear, calling for the police before she can allow you to second guess yourself, you knew what you saw.
Soon after that event and the police being as helpful as possible you made your way back home, states away where you finally began to feel at peace. You reassured your mother and father multiple times a day that you were okay and made it home safe for a few weeks afterwards, knowing that you weren’t just doing it for you but for them as well.
This peacefulness was disturbed when you had found yourself face to face with your new neighbor. The neighbor that was far taller than you, far more muscular than you had thought, and on top of that incredibly intimidating.
You had just come back from work, making your way into the elevator taking notice of everyone there that at some point you had spoken to. The other people had gotten off on their level by the time you had made your way up to the fourth floor, when the elevator doors opened and there he was.
You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the new neighbor that moved in, being quiet in his own room down the hall a few rooms from yours, allowed for you to barley notice him until now and you couldn’t help but tear your gaze away as you made eye contact with him through a mask he was wearing.
‘Oh, h-hello I suppose you’re the new neighbor?’
The elevator doors began to close as his hand, which you now noticed was larger than you had thought reached out to hold them open as he stepped out of the way so you could pass.
‘Yes’
His thick accent and deeper tone made you feel unnerved, maybe he was nervous moving into a new building, or didn’t want to talk with anyone. If anything you understood trying to stay away from others and keeping yourself closed off. You step out of the hall essentially swapping places with him as you make one last glance at him, his back to the elevator wall with his head slightly tilted up, you now see he has boots on…boots that are quite large and seem to be military.
You feel a flush through your body as you scramble to your room, making sure to lock both the deadbolt and door itself as worry was catching up to you now. You think for a second to call your parents and tell them…
Tell them what? A neighbor moved in- a man who has an accent and military grade boots- no, you would sound ridiculous. There were plenty of good reasons for him to be staying in these apartments- one being a nearby base. Instead, you try to relax by preparing something quick to eat and taking a warm shower, reading for a bit then getting to bed.
You’d noticed him more after that interaction, realizing he only lived 2 doors down and that he was in the military- to what degree or position you had no clue. This made sense as he would be gone for days on end, sometimes even weeks on what you assumed were missions of some sort. He didn’t try to talk to you or go out of his way to say anything neighborly, instead he would give you passing glances and the occasional head nod as he made him way to his room. You became accustomed to him living on your floor and figured that the next time you’d see him you would try to get to at least know his name.
This happened far sooner than you thought, the next day to be exact as you saw him pulling up outside the building. You made your way outside to a nearby bench and found him with a group of what appeared to be other military men all dressed similarly with a calm but stern expression, although you couldn’t really make out his expression being hidden by the mask. The mask he wears makes sense when you believe you hear someone refer to him as ‘Ghost’, clearly he didn’t give away much personal information even to those closer to him. You thought it would be rude to assume you heard correctly, so instead you figure you would ask. You waited until his group had left and attempted to speak with him as he made a gesture for the door to the apartments.
‘Hey, I never caught your name-‘ You say as you get up from the bench motioning towards him.
He slows his movement in hearing you for just a second, yet still made his way inside which to you, seemed to be ignoring you.
Maybe he just wasn’t a friendly person, you were sure that being in the military was difficult, as you’d seen him before making it too his room with a limp or wrapped hand. You decided to not push the matter any more, almost feeling embarrassed for trying to get his attention, angry at yourself and feeling foolish slightly overhearing his conversation. With a bit of speed in your step you made your way to the market to pick up some ingredients for dinner, which was your original plan before that embarrassment.
Later in the evening you find that you’d forgotten some things and would enjoy some fresh air before getting to bed for work tomorrow. You usually went to the market that was a few blocks away, but tonight you decided that you’d like to walk to the local market which was only a few buildings down. As the sun was setting you found it nice to notice the change in seasons and the small families walking together, making a mental note to call and check in on your own family later.
You purchase your few items and start to head back to the apartments when you reconcile about your interaction earlier. Opening the door to the building you think to yourself,
He had clearly slowed down when he heard me-why not respond? Passing the receptionists desk with a small wave and smile.
He didn’t seem very open to talking, I’m sure he’s got plenty on his plate. The last thing he needs is someone pestering him. Pressing the elevator button, watching the floor numbers tick down until they had reached one.
And on top of that, I really should try and keep myself more reserved-who knows what kind of a person he really is or why he is so mysterious. Stepping into the elevator, pausing before turning to press the button. More people shuffle in as you watch your feet still lost in your thoughts, until again you are what seemed to be the only one left in the small boxy elevator.
Why did I try to ask in the first place-
‘It’s Ghost’ You inhale sharply, whipping around to see the one that had been so imbedded in your thoughts now looming behind you. He sees your panic and continues to speak anyways.
‘People call me Ghost; You really should pay attention more closely to your surroundings.’
Still catching your breath as the door opens to both of your floors he begins to walk to his room, leaving you in the elevator.
‘O-Oh well I’m Y/N’ Why were you so quiet? You were almost sure he didn’t hear you now being steps ahead of you. How had such a large man made his way behind you-had you been that lost in thought? All of a sudden his name made sense.
Your mind catches up with you as you straighten yourself and start to walk towards your room as well. He’s making his way inside fishing his keys from his pockets when, despite your thoughts not to, you ask,
‘What’s your real name, Ghost?’
He pauses for a moment to look up at you, his eye contact making you feel nervous yet still standing tall you waited for his response. He finds the correct key and unlocks his door with ease returning his eyes to his door. Using his hand to push it ajar you think he’s going to leave without giving you a response again, only starting to make you feel worse for asking. He takes a breath as if he were going to answer but instead leaves you with only a ‘goodnight.’
You had continued on with your work life, your job feeling more boring by the day. Sometimes chatting with your parents and brother and making easy home dinners. Tonight you had made a microwave dinner, and decided to watch one of your favorite detective shows before drifting to sleep on the couch. Hours later you jolt wake to the sound of gun shots coming from the TV, it was louder than you had thought and hoped it hadn’t woken any of your neighbors. The room in-between yours and ‘Ghosts’ hadn’t been occupied in a while along with plenty of other rooms on the fourth floor, and you worried about being too loud possibly waking anyone up- especially those who didn’t get rest often.
You quickly turn down the volume and click off the TV, bringing your snack wrappers to the kitchen finally making your way to your bedroom. You’re just passing through the hall to your room when you hear a knocking at the door. You felt your stomach drop, you had woken him up. You woke him up and now he was here to scold you for being so inconsiderate- you saunter to the door still tired yet moving quickly enough to not make him more upset. You open the door, prepared with an apology yawning as you do so, looking to the ground embarrassed.
‘I’m sorry for the noise, I didn’t realize it was so loud’ Rubbing your eyes you get a chance to look up and see now more clearly than ever, this was not Ghost. This couldn’t be ghost, he wasn’t as tall and wasn’t masked in the slightest. It only took you a few seconds to age the younger features you once new and had seen in reports, and now you knew that your fears had come to light.
He had found you. Again.
#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#call of duty fanart#cod ghost#ghost mw2#cod fanfic#books#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost fanfiction
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@femalefemur Cyn.....you get the gold star. ✨️ Best compliment ever. Hands down. Framing it and mounting it on my wall.
#super soap sunday#soap squad™️#what do i do if i have a brain erection lasting more than four hours?#to be compared to soaps gigantic cock is quite the accomplishment#love you cyn#femalefemur#johnny soap mactavish#cod soap
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Texas Red Chapter 3: The Escapist OUT TONIGHT AT 8:30!!
#archive of our own#fanfic#slaterbabyasks#indigo#call of duty modern warfare 2#simon ghost riley#writing#simon ghost riley x reader#fanfiction#simon ghost riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod price#könig cod#cod ghost#cod imagine#cod mw#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#simon ghost x you
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John Price Imagine
Main Masterlist COD Masterlist
Imagine getting on your knees for Price while he's having a meeting with TF141 and he asks you to suck his cock and he lets you grind your pussy against his boot. Price's hands were in your hair and gripped it firmly for you to suck him deeply. And you can feel the intense gaze of Ghost, Soap, and Gaz on you.
"Focus boys. You'll get your share after the meeting is over."
#john price x reader#captain john price x female reader#captain john price x reader#john price x female reader#captain john price smut#captain john price imagine#cod smut#cod mw2#tf141 smut#tf 141 x reader
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