#modern warfare ii 2022

[anothercrisis]

Thinking about the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022) campaign. You know, as you do. And I realized something.

At a fork on their first mission together, Soap and Ghost disagree about what they should do: pursue Hassan or secure the crash site. Soap, being the heart that he is, wants to assist their teammates. Ghost, an obedient soldier to his core, wants to keep on task and pursue their target. I don’t remember how, but Soap wins the argument. The crash site gets secured and Hassan gets away.

Right? Right. Stick with me.

Weeks later, Ghost Team is trying to reclaim Los Vaqueros base. There are so many things going on at once since the team is divided as they try to conquer. Ghost, Soap, and Rudy are on Graves’s tail. But Price has gone down in a helo.

And Ghost chooses to leave Graves to Soap and Rudy so that he can go help Price and the pilot. He makes the exact opposite choice that he did at the beginning of the game.

Pre-Soap Ghost wouldn’t have. He would’ve stayed on task and finished the mission, no matter the cost. He wouldn’t have gotten sidetracked, no matter who was in danger.

So what was that about, Ghost, hm? Is there something you’d like to share with the class? Is that self-proclaimed cold heart of yours thawing?

TL;DR, Soap is rubbing off on Ghost. His compassion is contagious.

[mockerycrow]

The 141 boys having to physically hold back their much smaller but freakishly strong female teammate or S /O when someone is stupid enough to insult her and/or her boys

!!fem!reader!! — can interpreted as platonic or romantic

“Fuckin’ hell, hey—“ Price hisses as he stumbles, his arm wrapped around one of yours as Soap holds onto your other arm. They’re both in stances to hold you back yet despite your size, BOTH of them are struggling. Soap lets out a grunt as you struggle, nearly ripping yourself out of their grips. “Let go of me, lemme show that son of a bitch a piece of my mind—“

Gaz steps in front of your line of sight, holding his hands up as if he’s calming a wild animal. “Heyy, let’s just calm down, yeah? Their words aren’t worth anything, sweetheart.” You look at him desperately, your tone still filled with frustration and rage. “They have no right to say what they fucking said, Gaz! How could you let that slide?? And in front of the other recru—“

Your angry yelling is cut off with a familiar large, warm hand wrapping around the back of your neck and squeezing. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, the anger still stirring but no longer boiling over—you stop struggling. “Take a deep breath, love.” Ghost rumbles from behind, causing the hair on the nape of your neck to stand up against his gloved palm.

You obey, taking a deep breath. “Good, now breathe out slowly.” Price says lowly, his voice closer than normal—he must’ve stepped closer. “That’s it, lass. Good, another?” Soap utters, making you nod. You take another deep breath and as you do, you feel a hand—Gaz’s, as the hand is coming from in front of you—touch your cheek and then your forehead.

“There we go.” Ghost hums, letting go of your neck. You open your eyes and the other two let go of you, Gaz putting his hand on your shoulder. “Better?” Gaz asks softly, making you nod in response. “Better.” You confirm, causing Soap to chuckle. “Nearly ripped my arm off, bonnie. Keep that strength in check, why dont’cha?”

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Ghost forgets he wears a mask sometimes.

The remastered version of the OG prompt because that ending REALLY sets the fucking scene.

I'm sorry Gaz.

[2kiran]

subbot!ghost that's shy about how loud he can be >< he can barely see with tears in his eyes because you're making him feel so good :(( domtop!m!reader with prompt 10! take ur time <33

SIMON RILEY X TOP!READER

prompt, let me hear you

“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” Simon groans, large hand wrapping around the back of your neck. His head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut and he drags out a whine. “Yeah?” Teasingly rolling your hips, brushing past his sweet spot to feel the impatient tug provoked by a sharp twist of his calloused fingers. “Hngh, do-don’t be such a tease.”

“You like it when I am.” Simon rocks against you in response, thighs squeezing around yours, and he’s too far gone to snap. Shit, your cock is keeping his greedy hole so full, head light with pleasure when you suddenly pull all the way out, rim clenching and unclenching on your tip — then burrowing in again with a rough slam.

“Ah, haah—” His free hand clamps down on his mouth, silencing himself before he lets out an embarrassing moan.

His eyes fly open, jaw tensing as his hard length weeps pre. His whimper is muffled, tears catching on his lashes, and he’s suddenly conscious of how thin the walls of your home must be. He swears he’s almost going cross-eyed, you’re right in his throat and he’s lewdly quivering on your cock. Simon’s desperately stopping himself from yanking on your hair, uncertain if it’s whether to shove you away or force you closer.

Gently, your hand search for his, panting when you’re wrapped in his tight warmth again. “Oh, baby,” your thumb swipes across Simon’s knuckles, attempting to pry his palm away though his teeth are already sinking into his bottom lip. “Let me hear you, yeah?”

You take both of his wrists, pinning them above his head and you’re almost concerned he’ll draw blood with how hard he’s biting himself. Has there always been two of you?

Oh, now you’re a blurred group of three, and it makes him clench on you harder through the dizziness. He can feel himself shying away from the firm grasp of consciousness, all that is left of his thoughts are you and your big, stupid cock that keeps teasing his insides, forcing out choked-out moans.

He doesn’t want to seem like an idiot, doesn’t want to sound like one. He’s close to piercing his own lip, all in vain to keep his little groans from echoing throughout the quiet space.

But then Simon cries out as you ram back deep in him — cock pulsing and fuck he doesn’t want you to stop — finally unable to contain the needy whimpers that threaten to humiliate him. It’s raw, hoarse, aching when it finally breaches its confines. He’s trying to blink away the beads pooling from his eyes, simmering down his cheeks but you’re here to help him, wiping them away sweetly.

He’s shivering, too fucked out to think about anything besides your warmth and soft stare being constant reminders of how good you are to him. “Please,” a pathetic, little plea. He needs you so bad it’s physically hurting him. “More, nnh, I n-need you.”

[capsulecomputers]

With so much talk circulating around Call of Duty thanks to acquisition talks, is #Activision's latest release worth picking up? Check out our review of #CallofDuty: Modern Warfare II inside to see.

[kivino]

kivi.. pls hear my vision. different situations where reader and ghost hug because he’s too afraid to say “i love you” at the moment, but both of you know what his hugs mean. PLEAAASEEE AGHH (and gn!reader ofc)

HUSH || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

Word counter - ~1k words

A/n - PLSS i love your idea so much, he'd be awfully awkward, but we love him for it <3333

ao3 link for this fic

The first time Simon hugged you like this, unprompted and spontaneous, you froze. He felt warm, huge, a bit awkward and out of place but genuine, true. He wanted to tell you so many things he had on his mind, but he just couldn’t, lips sealed under that skull balaclava, leaning into you and squeezing so hard you couldn’t even return the hug. Minutes spent in this position felt like a whole eternity.

“Simon, what are you…”

“Shut up.”

So, you did. Hearing his steady breathing close to your ear, even feeling his heartbeat against your chest…and how fast it was. He was nervous. That was surprisingly sweet. You felt a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth when you heard him exhale and squeeze you even tighter in his arms. You don’t question his behavior when he reluctantly lets you go.

Each hug he gives you feels like home. As you make your way back from the draining mission, Simon rests his arm around your shoulders and leans against you, while the two of you sit next to each other, finding comfort in each other’s presence. His head bumps into yours, so you shift slightly against him, and it finally slots in the crook of your neck. And then you realize. He’s sleeping. Soap, who’s sitting on the opposite side of you gives you a cheeky smile.

“Not a word.” You hiss at him, rolling your eyes.

Simon was rarely vulnerable. It was never the time or the place, after all, he dedicated his whole life to being a soldier – resourceful, capable, and strong. There wasn’t any space for his feelings. But with you, he always felt accepted. Whenever he needed you were right there, with your familiar features, warm smile, and open arms. And each time Simon found himself snaking his arms around your torso, closing his eyes, and inhaling your smell he caught himself thinking only one thing.

“I love you.”

He lost count of the times when he opened his mouth to finally say it, only to close it mere seconds later, rethinking his decision completely. Next time. Next time he’ll tell you. But that next time never comes. So, Simon remains stuck in this endless cycle of fruitless attempts to bare his soul for you, only to lose his voice and fall silent, hoping you’ll connect the dots yourself. Still, he was happy to be in your arms. And happiness likes silence, after all. So maybe his lack of words was for the best.

God, how much he loves you. Simon would spend his whole life in your embrace if he could, not a worry in the world as he basks in your warmth, something he craved desperately for years now. Something that would probably fill this gaping hole in his chest after he lost so much. He didn’t like being this walking one-man pity party he felt he was sometimes, but you made it easier. Simon had no idea how you just wormed your way into his heart so swiftly, but he’d take it. Whatever it was about you, you were special to him, and he was not letting you go.

“Earth to Simon, you there?” You look up at him from the tight embrace he once again trapped you in while smoking on the balcony. The night was surprisingly cold, so instead of lending you his jacket, Simon just pulled you in for an embrace, telling you to clasp your arms behind his back. You enjoyed this alone time with him, and you prayed that he wouldn’t pick up on your staring. One of the few times when he finally takes off his damn mask, and you’re worried about him catching onto you looking. And how could you not? His eyes looked like boundless, hypnotizing abyss in the glow of a flickering lightbulb.

“Simon to Earth, how copy?” He smirks, noticing your prolonged stare, and you see the embers of mischief dancing in his irises. Now it was his turn to tease you. Bastard. He chuckles at the sight of you flustered.

“Oh, fuck off.” You let go of him, getting out of the warm hug and giving his chest a slight push. Simon should know better than to tease you. You immediately feel significantly colder than before, but instead of returning to his embrace, you shove your hands in the pockets of your trousers. His eyes flicker towards your huddled form, but he doesn’t say anything, once again.

Simon doesn’t say anything even when you’re laying on top of him, like a weighted blanket, making his mind wander in a sleepy daze. He drinks up every single detail in front of him, the way your eyelashes flutter, the warmth you’re radiating, or how your face is pressed against his chest. Simon is more than sure that if you were awake right now, you could hear how fast his heart beats for you. It’s embarrassing, really. But Simon just can’t help himself. So, he squeezes you even tighter with one arm, his fingers lingering on your hair with a feather-light touch.

Maybe…maybe right now is the time. You’re sleeping. You won’t hear him anyway and he’ll be able to get so much weight off his shoulders. Simon feels something inside his chest ache, a bittersweet feeling rolling on his tongue. He knew it was foolish, but he needed that. Simon could already feel his insides tossing and turning in this uncomfortable, anxious anticipation of…something. He wasn’t quite sure of what.

But it’s now or never. So, he cranes his neck slightly and his lips touch your forehead for a short second. The touch is intimate and bashful, but it sends euphoric butterflies right through his stomach, along with that sweet, tender ache in his chest.

“I love you” Simon manages to whisper, as he lays back down, trying not to disturb your sleep any more than he already has. A shaky breath escapes his lips. He did it. He actually did it. Simon closes his eyes with another exhale, not even catching the way a faint smile appears on your face.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

[reschatzi]

─── ⌜ mona lisa. ⌟ ─── simon “ghost” riley x you. sub simon. dom male reader. blowjob. gun kink. loaded gun play. boot grinding. hint of blood kink. ( alternative for this. )

imagine simon on his knees, mask rolled up to his nose, as he took your hard cock down his throat. you stood, back against the wall, as your hold on your pistol just slightly trembled. it pointed at simon’s head, finger resting on the trigger guard. ready to curl if he disobeyed.

mind you, that you were in the middle of a mission. he begged so sweetly, you couldn’t resist. the enemies were outside, patrolling as they chattered nonsense with each other. the walls hiding the sight of simon gagging on your cock. his eyes looked up into yours, maintaining eye contact as he looked so dazed.

a silent plead to press it harder into him. you did, his helmet blocking his head. his crotch lowered to the vamp of your boot, rocking against it. he moaned around your cock, sending vibrations – like lighting a fire up your spine. his calloused hands were bare to you, free from the confines of his gloves as they were bloody. you held them up to his nose with your other hand, however, as the stench of an enemy’s blood marked as the reminder of his victory had him turned on.

it didn’t help that you had faux disappointment set on your face, taunting him, degrading him. “fuck, just like that, baby.” you groaned, hips bucking into his warm mouth, “i wish you could see how pathetic you look. god, price would be so fuckin’ pissed at you.” you teased, “but this is our dirty little secret, isn’t it?” you hummed, raising a brow in expectation at him. he bobbed his head in response. eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to please you, heavily breathing through his nose as the enemies grew near.

“mmph...” he moaned, muffled, as he grinds harder against your boot. he swallowed around your cock, tongue teasing at the underside. you dragged the gun down to his masked cheek until it reached his neck, and holy fuck, you weren’t disappointed. you could see a very faint outline of your cock in his throat and he looked so beautiful like this. eyes teary and mouth wide open just to accommodate with your size. the intensity of the situation only made his arousal grow, the taste of your pre-cum sending blood south. he was worthy to be a painting; your very own mona lisa.

they’d call him insane, for sure, and simon wouldn’t care – because they’re right. he’s insane, solely for you.

masterlist main @yarelia

[yawnderu]

“¿Y esta mamada qué?” Valeria asks with a scoff, giving the card you're holding a glance of disdain.

“For Valentine's Day, silly.” She snatches the paper out of your hands, giving you one final stern look before she inspects it, taking in every single decoration and detail that you carefully added before letting out a small sigh, calming down before she starts reading it with a more open mind.

Her expression seems to relax slightly as she keeps reading the handwritten confessions of love and promises of a future together. She stops reading halfway, pulling you into her lap out of nowhere, making you let out a yelp of surprise before your arms wrap around her, your face resting comfortably in the crook of her neck.

“... You made this?” Her free hand rests on your ass absentmindedly while the other one holds the card open, going back to reading as soon as you nod, brown eyes reading through the paper slowly, almost savoring every single word written. The corners of her mouth tilt up when she reads about a funny memory together, subconsciously holding you closer to her body.

“Oye... si tengo tiempo ahora, vamos a cenar.” She already has a reservation at a fancy restaurant, yet she's too prideful to admit how much of a soft spot she has for you. In a life of war and violence, you're the only thing that brings her comfort no matter how tainted her hands are.

Translation:

“¿Y esta mamada qué?”: What's with this shit? “Oye... si tengo tiempo ahora, vamos a cenar.”: Hey... If I'm not busy later, we're going out for dinner.

[temeyes]

still sick ahu, tweaked the [portrait] i made of Simon from last year to cope

[shadeops21]

God fuckign damnit IW

YOU HAD ONE JOB!

ONE! JOB!

I've seen some of the names you've given character skins, and I will admit, some of them are quite creative and some of them... less so.

BUT WHEN WE FINALLY GET THE BUNDLE WITH THE FAMOUS GHOST IN JEANS, THAT I COSPLAYED, THAT STARTED A FERVOR AMONGST FANS WHEN THE MWII TRAILER WAS RELEASED!

WHAT DID THEY CALL IT?!

"Jeans Ghost".

WHAT THE FUCK IW!?

I MADE UP A NAME FOR THIS FUCKING SKIN WHEN I WAS WRITING UP MY COSPLAY GUIDES, AS WE DIDN'T HAVE A SKIN NAME AT THE TIME, AND KNOW WHAT I CALLED IT?!

URBAN WARFARE!

Jesus fucking Christ IW, are you that creatively bankrupt that you can't even come up with a convincing skin name?!

Goddamn it...

Yes I still bought the bundle because fuck me I cosplayed that kit, you'll be damn sure I'm going to wear this kit full-time in game now.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!

Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??

I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.

—Love Echoes In Silence

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs. 

You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen. 

So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air. 

Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside. 

Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame. 

He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot. 

Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home. 

You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.

“Mornin’,” Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest. 

“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?” 

He hums, squeezing you gently. 

“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling. 

“Phillip, I just got up.”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”

“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way. 

“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”

All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.

[anothercrisis]

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022) where it’s exactly the same except Los Vaqueros (the cowboys) wear cowboy hats.

Soap immediately gets one of his own. One of the first things he does after showing it off to the team is plop it on Ghost’s head for him to try out.

Everyone there knows the hat rule.

Ghost doesn’t say anything—doesn’t react to Soap’s claim at all. His silence in addition to the fact he makes no move to remove the hat from his head tells everyone what they need to know.

Alejandro throws his head back laughing, which he can do because Rodolfo had taken his hat only minutes ago to put on his own head. Later, money will be swapped from Rudy’s pocket to Alejandro’s; he’d lost the bet in which he thought that, like Ale, it would take Ghost years to accept his feelings.

Gaz’s eyes about fall out of his head because he had no idea his teammates were into each other. But now that he knows, suddenly he understands all the little things he’d been misinterpreting.

Price rolls his eyes, but he’s silently relieved that one of them had finally done something about their feelings because it was getting annoying as hell to deal with.

Soap is grinning from ear to ear, incredibly pleased with himself and the reactions (and lack thereof) that he was receiving.

[mockerycrow]

I’ve been toying with the lovely idea that the 141 boys have their own Penelope Garcia (from Criminal Minds) who is just their little ray of light, just so cute 🥰

!!gn!reader!! — can be read as platonic or romantic

Whilst sitting at your desk of your many monitors, your radio began to pick up chatter which meant the team was trying to make contact. You immediately pick up your headphones and angle your microphone, hearing the last of Price’s sentence. “—ending you a file now.”

You hum into the microphone and scoot your chair towards one of your many keyboards. “Only caught the last part, Cap’. A file you said?” You ask, typing up a password before a chat log opens up. “Yes, we need you to look into the source code, lookin’ for anythin’ that makes sense, love.”

You quickly receive a file and run it through a scanner app you developed yourself as well as a decryption app in case it was protected with extra measures. “Mm, I love hide and go seek. Running it through now, sir.” You respond with an obvious grin in your voice. You hear Soap laugh through the radio. “Let us hear it when it’s done, aye?”

Your lips twitch from his voice, your eyes glued to a screen as you twiddle with a pen. “Anything for you, Suds.” Which earns you a belly laugh from the man and a groan from Price. Your screen pops up a couple of images as it popped through the encryption. “Mm, alright searching now….” A few more seconds before another window pops up. “Santa Fe,” You call out. “Only one that scans like an actual word.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You hear Ghost rumble, and you can’t resist the shit eating grin. “Do I get a reward?” You can’t resist making the joke, popping a candy into your mouth from a bowl on your desk. “When we get back, I’ll buy ya dinner.” Gaz offers, making you clutch your chest and playfully groan. “My dream man! Safe travels, yeah?”

[2kiran]

Hiii! I dont know if your taking any request but feel free to ignore this. M!reader who is taller than ghost and wants to breed him all the time

a m a n o f a c t i o n s

simon riley who revels in the size difference.

he was tall. simon riley towers over most people, being the man that he is.

but then there’s you. the very person simon riley would get down on his knees for.

he’d never admit how much he enjoys looking up at you.

it’s not like simon riley would verbally tell you that.

simon riley is a man of actions. he’d rather display his affection for you without words.

that trait of his isn’t hard to notice, especially in bed.

it’d start with a simple pat on your shoulder. not too clingy, not too ignorant. then, there’ll be lingering touches. be it his hand on the small of your back, your waist, and if no one’s around, your thigh.

sure, it may seem simple. but it’s his eyes. simon riley begs for your attention with his pretty eyes.

staring at you in mesmerization almost predatorily when he thinks you don’t notice his heavy gaze on you.

simon riley’s gloved hand is on your shoulder as you explain your ideas to him. a deep hum of his occasionally slipping out. grip maybe a little tight as he tilts his head upwards, brain attempting not to think unholy thoughts.

and oh, the moment he finds out about your breeding kink, his system shuts.

simon riley is a man of actions. you want something from him? just tell him. he won’t hesitate to give you what you desire.

that includes allowing you to have your way with him. give simon riley the word, and he’s already bending over and hole ready to take in your cock.

he loves the way you manhandle him. he’s a goner when you adjust his position to your liking. even his stance, despite him not needing it. you only needed a discreet excuse to touch him.

he’s weak in the knees. the simon “ghost” riley is weak in the knees for you. quite literally, while he holds himself as you pound him to next week. shaky voice begging you to —

╰ “mm..ng, wait!” he squeaks out, whiny moans interrupting his words. he’s so tired already. you already fucked him this morning, the cum you left in his hole dripping down to your still hard cock. simon riley is tired, but he’s still crying for more and more.

simon riley isn’t the type of man to have a thing for breeding or size difference. but fuck, you’re making him question himself.

masterlist

[capsulecomputers]

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II - Campaign & Multiplayer Gameplay

In this gameplay for Modern Warfare II, we are on the hunt for a dangerous terrorist Hassan Zyani throughout the first 4 levels of the campaign and then we switch to some good old multiplayer carnage as a bonus!

If you enjoyed the video, be sure to give us a thumbs up and subscribe!

Call of Duty®: Modern Warfare® II drops players into an unprecedented global conflict that features the return of the iconic Operators of Task Force 141.

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II Developer: Infinity Ward, Raven Software, Beenox, Treyarch, High Moon Studios, Sledgehammer Games, Activision Shanghai, Demonware, Toys for Bob Publisher: Activision Website:  https://support.activision.com/ Platform: Windows Release Date: 28 Oct, 2022 Price: $69.99

Available now on Steam - https://store.steampowered.com/app/1938090/Call_of_Duty_Modern_Warfare_II/

[kivino]

BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

my masterlist

ao3 link to this fic

Word counter – ~1,8k

Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.

upd. link added for ao3 enjoyers!

It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.

“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.

Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.

Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.

It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.

You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.

It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.

Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.

That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.  

“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.

It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.

So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.

The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.

So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.

The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.

Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.

“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.

“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.

“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”

Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.

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