#modern warfare two

[mockerycrow]

Emergency Contact (2/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

-> PART ONE OF EMERGENCY CONTACT

Summary: You never expected Simon to come to your aid, and Simon assures you that he would come every single time.

A/N: I genuinely appreciate the support of this concept <3 I truly did not expect so many people to want a part two, so here it is! please rb with what you think, i love to hear y’all’s thoughts! i’m honestly not the happiest with this, but i did what i could. i may rewrite this in the future.

[WARNINGS: Hospital setting, fluff, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, ooc Simon.]

IT TAKES YOU FOUR DAYS to wake up. Four entire days for you to even move an eye muscle. Four days of anxiety, of Simon lying in wait, waiting for sign of life. Despite the doctors’ assurances of your condition, the confirmed brain activity, Simon was panicking.

He just couldn’t lose you, too. Not when he has such a great thing going for him, so when he learns you’re in a mini coma—induced by your own body to allow your body to rest and heal, he can’t help but freak out. His mind screaming that you’ll never wake up, that you’ll always by lying in a hospital bed, until someone in your family decides to come and pull the plug. He tried to keep himself preoccupied—he read books and articles on his phone, memorized each time the nurses came in to check your vitals, he even texted Price an update about his situation—it wasn’t much information, but he said something along the lines of something happened at home and he thinks his leave with have to be for a month, but there’s a good chance it might be longer.

Simon barely left the room—he couldn’t. Not when at any moment you could wake up, or any moment you could’ve died. He didn’t manage much sleep, either. Every time he managed to fall asleep, the same nightmare would play; what he imagined how your accident went. He imagined you walking down on the sidewalk towards the crosswalk down a street you both frequented together. You were always careful when walking—he knew you were having car troubles for the last few weeks. You press the button on the crosswalk pole to trigger the lights to turn red. Cars slow to a stop, and your crosswalk signs turns to a walking man. You quickly hurry across the crosswalk, but a car comes speeding down—and smashes right into you, full speed, sending you across the road. Simon is just standing there, watching. Completely unable to help. He always wakes up once he walks up to your mangled body.

Simon gasps quietly and jolts awake again, blinking the bleariness away, and the slow beeps and exhales of your machines come back. His rapid heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes that he’s still beside your hospital bed. He looks at you—you’re no longer on a ventilator, but you have an oxygen mask, a way to help your collapsed lung. It makes him feel a bit better, but Simon would very much prefer your eyes to be open, your fingers moving against the blanket you’d likely hate the texture of when you woke up—if you woke up—and he would want to feel your muscles moving under your skin. He also tries to ignore the fear of you having Amnesia after waking up.

Simon isn’t sure when he laid his head back down, but it shoots back up the second he hears a quiet noise escape you—it’s the first sign of life to Simon, his wide eyes scanning your body. His eyes fly to your hand, your fingers twitching a bit. Simon grabs ahold of your twitching hand immediately and looks at your face and he isn’t so sure why his heart is pounding beneath his ribs, but he doesn’t have too much time to focus on it as your arm twitches. It’s like you’re slowly coming back to life in a weird way, but Simon finds himself totally silent, like he can’t find the right words to say just yet. He doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but he does as he watches your shoulder twitch next, and then your eyebrows furrow. Your eyes are already closed, but you squeeze your eyelids together harder. Simon realizes that you haven’t had your eyes open for about four days, so he quickly dims the rooms lights and returns right back next to you. Simon reaches for your hand and gently holds it, watching you slowly get your surroundings.

Your eye flutter open slowly and you blink, and it’s obvious you don’t immediately process that you’re in the hospital. A croaky moan of discomfort leaves you and Simon sits up, the worry eating at his stomach. You look at Simon with unfocused and exhausted eyes and your eyebrows furrow again and your lips part.

“..Simon?”

He releases the breath he was holding and he nods, his black mask slightly moving as his lips move. “I’m right here, [name]. Right here.” Simon absolutely hates how shaky his voice is, and he watches you bit your lip as your eyes begin to fill with tears. His heart skips a beat—what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Are you scared? Simon decides he needs to know because he can fix it, he can help you, right? He needs to fix it—“Y.. You came for me..” You whisper, blinking a tear rolls down your cheek to your jaw quickly. Simon’s own eyebrows furrowed—did you think he wouldn’t? “Of course I did, love.” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will always come for you.” You try to hold in the quiet sob, but your shoulders begin to shake. Simon reaches up and gently wipes away a tear with his thumb while he squeezes your hand. “No tears now, hm? You’ve.. You’ve survived the impossible.” Simon says, forcing his voice to be steady. His eyes begin to burn with his own set of tears forming. “I came as soon as I heard, [name]. Don’t ever think I wouldn’t come for you.“

Your lower lip curls as you try to not cry from his sentiment; this is the man who took you in after losing everything, and it took him a long while to even let you know of his actual name, let alone see his face unmasked. This is the man who does not tell you the details of his job, but you know that he could be killed from it. This is the man who sits next to you near his windowsill when you both can’t sleep—the man who wakes up, just knowing something is up. He makes you a cup of your favorite morning drink whenever he can, he signs his sticky notes with a poorly drawn skull instead of his name, he makes piss poor dad and army type jokes, annoys you with his cockiness and bought you a damn mattress and bed-frame—even thought he never had to. He remembers the little things about you, your favorite shows and games—your favorite books, your favorite foods, hell, he remembers every little awful story about your workplace and your job. He’s always been like a wild animal—you come too close and he flees, but if you’re patient do what he needs, he’ll come to you.

Simon blinks away the tears and he clears his throat, his voice hesitant as he speaks. “You made me your emergency contact.” His tone isn’t questioning or warbling in any way—he says it like a statement, a fact, which it is. You laugh quietly which quickly turns into a grimace, causing Simon’s thumb to stop moving over your knuckles for a moment. Of course any movement or sound would hurt. “I.. I had to put one down, I just.. put the first person who came to mind.. Y’know?” You murmured nervously. Simon’s breath hitches for a moment and he only responds with a “mmh” for the time being, which definitely makes you way more nervous than you started out to feel. Your heart monitor spikes for a moment, causing Simon to speak up. “Hey—just relax, okay? M’not mad, love. Not mad at all,” He begins. He glances away from you for a moment before looking back with such a vulnerable look—like he’ll break at any moment. “It was just.. a surprise. That’s all.” But both of you know it was more than just a surprise. It was a small declaration of prioritizing each other—you setting him as the first person to be notified for an emergency, and his acceptance of this role. Simon never thought he would be sitting here, beside anyone else than his teammates in a hospital setting.

Simon isn’t sure when he fell in love with you. Whether it was the first moment he laid eyes on you or way later down the road—he doesn’t know. What he does know is that this.. feeling, isn’t as scary as it used to be. People getting close to him used to terrify him and it still does—but.. there’s something about you. Something about you that makes Simon feel safe. Makes him feel like he doesn’t have to sit in the corner to watch the entire room, you make him feel like he doesn’t have to sleep with a hunting knife stashed under his pillow. You make him feel like he doesn’t have to question your motives with anything you do, you make Simon feel like he can just sit down and relax without having to worry about, well.. anything else besides from the question of what you’ll have for dinner that night. He tries to hold in the shuddery breath and when he can’t, his eyes dart away to your arm. You open your lips to speak again, but you begin to cough. Simon grabs the paper cup of water that has a straw in it that he’s prepared for you everyday just in case you had woken up and he slots the straw between your lips, which you greedily accept and drink down the cold water. It soothes the ache in your throat from being on the ventilator and from not speaking for a couple of days. Once you’re satisfied, he places the cup back on the side table. “Hey, Si,” You croak, your fingers weakly squeezing his hand. Simon’s eyes immediately meet yours again, searching for any hint of pain. You lick your lips, a light smile coming to them. “Two blondes walk into a bar. You’d think one of ‘em would’ve seen it.” He stares at you for a moment, his eyebrows raising. “Did.. Did you just..” You laugh weakly and nod, looking at him. “I did.” You clear your throat again and squeeze his fingers. “Did it because you’re in your head.. Don’t hafta think so.. so much when you’re with me, Simon.”

Simon brushes his thumb over your knuckles once again and he can’t help but silently agree—he doesn’t have to think about anything right now, he can just sit here, with you—even if it’s in a place like this, with you in a condition like that. Simon looks at you and you look back at him, into his soul—and for the first time, he doesn’t want to look away.

taglist;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja @cumikering @silent-neptune @purechaosss @hauntedpass @mxtokko @meimhem [crossed out = not able to tag sorry!]

[harmleikurdraws]

"Is that what I look like? Ghost stared at Soap’s drawing, at the way his pencil had traced his face in exquisite detail. […] Hi, Simon, he wanted to say to the drawing. Nice to see you again. It’s been so long. "

Ehm! New banger!

And we’ll make death proud to take us by Literal_Satan

[apricityxoxo]

Help and Care

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)

✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?

✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue

here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies

enjoy

Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.

When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.

He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.

He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.

Training.

Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.

They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.

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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.

Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.

It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.

That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.

He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.

“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”

“Ghost, come now!”

“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.

“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”

“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?

“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.

He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.

He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.

Knock-knock.

Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…

“Come on in”

He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.

He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.

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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…

He’s still staring.

“… excuse me, is everything alright?”

“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.

He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 

Wait. ‘take a visit down here’

Oh. He needed help. 

“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 

“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”

You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 

Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 

No, You need to remain a professional.

“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”

“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.

“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.

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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 

“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.

“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”

“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.

He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.

You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.

You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 

You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.

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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 

“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.

“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.

“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 

He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 

“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.

“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.

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Week 2 

He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 

Waiting.

Waiting. 

Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.

AND GAHHH LEEE

When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.

The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.

When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-

Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—

It’s him.

He’s here. 

Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.

You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 

Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…

“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.

“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.

“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.

You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 

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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 

You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.

The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.

His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.

“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”

“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”

“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.

You feel like he’s such a kind man.

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Week 4

Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.

You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.

You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.

His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 

He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.

Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 

You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.

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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.

You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 

You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 

He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 

You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.

It was irritating.

Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.

Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.

“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.

There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.

“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“No problem Luitenent” you respond.

“Call me, Simon.”

That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.

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Week 6

This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 

In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 

He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 

The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 

Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face

“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 

Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 

When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 

You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.

Cocky bastard. 

You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.

Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 

During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.

“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.

“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 

“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 

“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 

Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—

Knock Knock

The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.

You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 

“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 

One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 

She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 

“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 

“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.

“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 

“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 

“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 

“See you tomorrow Si”

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Week 8

Two months.

He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 

Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—

He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 

It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–

He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 

He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 

When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 

Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 

He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 

Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 

“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 

“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.

“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”

“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.

“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room

Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.

‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.

“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.

“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.

“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.

Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 

He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 

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15 minutes.

He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.

It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.

Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 

They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.

It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  

He knocks.

He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”

Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 

“Hi, how can I help you?”

He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.

“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.

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giggling and kicking my feet

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men with a Housewife - Preferences

Simon Riley, John MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick, König x Fem! Reader

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

Simon Riley

The thought of going back home and you are just there is enough to keep him going for months.

He loved the idea of having someone home at all times, during the hard times, he would just need to imagine you in your shared house, curled up on the couch, watching a movie. It was enough for him.

But coming home and actually being there is everything.

He always gets this feeling in his stomach as he drives home, fear. The fear of finding an empty home or worse, a burnt-down home.

But each time, the house is still there, with you inside.

Each time you would run into his arms and kiss him. Each time you would tell him to eat something because you cooked.

Because of course, you cooked.

Johnny MacTavish

When you met Johnny you had a nice job, you were overly fond of it, but you did have one. But after your marriage, Johnny asked you to stay home. He explained he earned enough, you wouldn’t have to worry. He said it was so that he can be sure you are safe.

And how can you say no when he is asking so nicely?

You noticed just how much calmer he was after you agreed. But you also noticed that there was nothing to keep your mind truly busy when he wasn’t home.

You began to worry a lot for his safety and feared that any phone call or letter you received might be bad news.

But he always came home to you.

You even learned how to cook the dishes he enjoys the most. He would often call you “Little Wife” which was a very cute nickname, you thought.

Kyle Garrick

It wasn’t fully his idea for you to stay home and stop working. It just… happened. 

He adopted a cat, which couldn’t be left alone while he was gone, then you got married and you quit your job which you hated.

But Kyle loved it.

You would send him pictures of you and your cat, Cinnamon.

Kyle loved to arrive home to a warm house and your smile.

John Price

John is a very cautious man.

He has probably five houses each location confidential, so much so, that you don’t even know half of their actual place.

But let’s be honest, he would be upfront and tell you that he wants you to stay home long before you marry him.

He would let you choose a house and give you everything you want.

John would come home to you, smelling of cigars, gunpowder and death.

But you never tell him that you know. You let him shower while you prepare a simple meal for him.

Alejandro Vargas

He probably has a huge family, I can see his mother being a housewife herself. So he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of you being one, but if you want a job, he wouldn’t mind that either.

So when you ultimately decided to stay home, he wasn’t fully on board. He wanted you to have everything in his absence. 

And when he was gone, he was worried, he hated to leave you alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be wearing his ring proudly. He was a proud husband, and you were hidden, even with the ring, no one would find you if anything happened.

But nothing ever did.

Alejandro always came home to you, asked you to join him in a hot bath, and neither of you would put on any clothes after.

König

He actually begged you to stay home and work from home. Later on, you decided to take over the house and became a full-on housewife.

He had a huge house even before you married him, so the home became your DIY project very early.

It did help to keep your mind off of him not being home, you always had a room to decorate, paint or rearrange to your liking. It became your project that each time he left, you did one room so that when he came home, he could be surprised.

König is a huge man with many years of experience in the military which did make him into a hard man.

But with you, he could be so soft and kind. 

Much like how he was when he arrived home after every mission.

He loved to come home, seeing you sleeping in your bed or on the couch, it would fill him with warmth.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[xyziiix]

𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐑 - 𝐉.𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

Captain John Price X Female!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (P in V, fingering, spit kink - Price spitting in readers mouth 🫣, unprotected sex, hints of a breeding kink?) PRICE IS A NASTY MF - implied secret relationship, language, mention of violence, mentions of guns, description of bullet wound, hint at Ghost being a peeping Tom @ the end, reader is described as a woman!!!!

Small summary: after a mission not going as smooth as planned, yourself and the boys had no choice but to hunker down in a safe house while you stitch up Soap - him taking a nasty bullet wound to the thigh - the heat is overwhelming and anticipation bubbling as you weren’t sure if you were entirely safe, the only thing that could take your mind off of it was your Captain’s lingering eyes, promiscuous and completely unprofessional thoughts racing through his mind about you.

!not proof read!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Sergeant Mactavish exclaims, his head thrown back as a pained groan rumbles from his chest - his accent thicker as he complains.

“Hold still, Soap.” You reply - your voice coming out stern as you focus on pulling the bullet out of his thigh, your breath wavering as you tried to concentrate - pushing away the panic and anxiety you were feeling at seeing your friend injured. Luckily, the bullet hadn’t gone deep - and as far as you could tell - it hadn’t hit an artery. “Almost out.” You added, trying to get him to calm down.

“Stay calm, Sergeant.” A low - gravelly voice filled the clouded room, your Captain stood behind the groaning Scot, a hand placed on his shoulder to ground him as well as keep him still in order for you to work easier.

The house you were holed up in - though you could barely call it a house - was in the butt-fuck middle of nowhere - not another sign of life in sight as all that surrounded you was sand and heat. The scorching sun blared through the single glass-pane window, lighting the room enough to your satisfaction - and if you looked over to the ray of sun, you could actually see the abundance of dust floating in the air. It was safe to say you were surprised when you learned this was a marked safe house and not some deserted shack in the middle of the urzikstan desert.

You were kneeled on the chalky ground, your knees aching from the concrete floor as Soap sat above you in the rickety chair, the furniture groaning in protest at the agitated soldiers weight. You hands worked fast - managing to remove the bullet from the surface of his flesh and immediately going to disinfect it.

“Shite!” He hissed, the wound burning as you pressed a antisept-soaked cotton pad to the open area, cutting him an apologetic look as his neck strained - teeth bared at the stinging pain shooting through his nerves.

After a few minutes of you working swiftly and silently - save for the few ‘sorry’s’ when you see the Sergeant wince when you push the needle through his flesh in order to close the wound - you managed to successfully stitch him up, sighing as you lean back slightly, the strain in your back and the cramp in your hands pushed aside as you observe your work - wanting to be extra sure your teammate was taken care of. After wrapping gauze around his thigh, Gaz and Ghost move over to Soap - wrapping his arms around their shoulders as they guide him to stand.

“You go and lie down, okay? You need to rest that leg so you don’t tear the stitches.” You order softly, rising to your feet - feeling your knees pop from the benumbed feeling of kneeling for so long.

“Aye.” Johnny grunts, exhaustion taking over his usually lively self as he looks to you, “I owe you big time, lass.” He says gratefully, casting you an appreciative and tired smile before he’s moving out of the room with the other two - Ghost mumbling something to about not being so reckless, his cold demeanour failing to mask his genuine worry for Soap.

You let out groan of relief as you take a seat at the rustic table, your whole body aching as you tried to relax as best as you could in the beaten down chair.

“You alright, love?” Price asks you - and for a moment, you’d forgotten he was still in the room with you - stood over by the window he’d pried open, a cigar in his hand as he looked over to you. He’d barely spoken a word since the mission had gone south, and as much as you wanted to ask if he was okay, you knew it was best not to pry for the moment - understanding that a lot of stress and emotions were weighed on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” You responded, a hand coming to rub and knead at the back of your neck - attempting to unwind the knot that has formed there. You felt uncomfortably warm, having removed your vest a while ago - leaving you in a simple tank top, though it did little to relieve your skin - the air almost impossibly humid.

Price surveyed you, bringing the thick cigar to his lips, relishing in the smoke burning his throat and lungs as he took you in. A light sheen of perspiration was layered on your skin - collecting between your breasts that gave the illusion that your skin was glowing, your once-neat updo having loosened, your hair falling more loosely and wild, and stray, defiant strands of hair stuck to your damp skin. Price had been silently replaying the events of before in his head - what he could’ve done to prevent it; to prevent Soap getting shot, and to prevent you being put in danger. But, seeing you now - looking as ravishing as you did, helped to take his mind away from his own self-doubt for a beat.

You reluctantly stood, having looked at the scattered medical supplies on the table and floor long enough - hoping that if you glared at it hard enough it would magically be cleaned up and put back to where it was supposed to be. You began slowly picking up pieces of gauze, rolls of surgical suture and various other supplies before placing them back into the first aid box, lost in your own thoughts as you stayed contently silent.

You felt his presence before he reached for you, he smells of ash, and a lingering acrid taste of a cigar burns your tongue. His aura is intrusive, but it’s never uncomfortable. Two calloused, large hands place themselves on the outside of your arms, pressing his hard body to yours - his chest to your back as his familiar, warm lips press onto the heated skin of your neck - the juncture of where your neck and shoulder meets.

“John…” you breathe, eyes flickering over to the open doorway - painfully reminded that you weren’t alone in the house, and if either of your teammates walked in, the first thing they would see is how your Captain is practically trapping your body to the dust-covered table with his own.

“Hm?” He hums back to you, the vibrations crawling from his chest and settling into the sensitive skin of your neck. He was doing it on purpose. Acting nonchalant about the compromising position that you could be caught red-handed in at any moment. “I love hearin’ y’say my name.” He murmurs against your skin, one of his sizeable hands placing itself on your midsection - effectively pushing you back and closer to him, also chipping away at your resolve as you fought back to not sink into the feeling of him. Your skin grew impossibly hotter, the weak feeling in your thighs becoming known as you were silently glad you were being held up between the table and John - certain your already exhausted legs would collapse - you had to stifle a gasp when you felt the light graze of teeth under your jaw, the wiry stubble of his goatee scratching across your delicate skin - your Captain continued his onslaught on your neck, nearly groaning at the taste of salt on your skin.

“They could catch us.” You remind him, breathlessly.

“They could.” He agrees, though he made no move to step away from you.

It was a dangerous game you were both playing. It’s not important how your dalliance with your Captain started - it being a long story of what started as lingering looks and intrusive thoughts as you distantly admired one another - knowing the consequences of what would happen if you were to act on your feelings. You could lose your job, and John would be punished greater than you - being kicked off the team and risking being stripped of his rank. Yet, it seemed he cared little for the consequences when one night - he’d shown up to your room in the barracks, telling you that you both needed to talk - a long overdue conversation - which actually led to him fucking you senseless on your single bed. You both agreed afterwards that you needed to keep whatever this was quiet - John promising you he’d find a way to make it not result in backlash when others learned about your relationship, and in the last few months - you were both in your own content little bubble outside of work, spending most of your time from deployment with him in his apartment in London.

Panic flashes across your face as you hear footsteps descending the stairs, each step groaning and creaking from heavy combat boots, Price then stepped away from you - going back to his place by the window to resume smoking his cigar, acting as if he hadn’t just left you a flustered mess. Gaz was who appeared, not taking any notice of the red dusting your cheeks and the nonplus stature you had while you remained stood by the table.

“He’s passed out.” Gaz interjected the atmosphere - unaware of the previous state you and the Captain were in, Price nodded briefly at Garrick, the end of his cigar burning orange embers for a second as he took a pull of the smoke. You also nodded at his words - shaking yourself out of it as your unsteady hands moved to close the first aid box. Gaz took a seat at the table - the seat previously occupied by Soap - as another set of heavier footsteps came down the staircase, the skull faced Lieutenant appearing, silent as he joined the table. You glanced over to Price, who casually watched out of the window. “It’s bloody boiling in here.” Garrick comments, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Ghost lets out a grumble of agreement, a gloved hand readjusting his mask slightly. You busy yourself, now having regained your composure as you silently took the box in your hands - walking out of the room to go and put it back with the other supplies. Price’s cerulean eyes flicking over to you, watching you leave the room.

It was a few hours later, daylight had burned and it grew darker. The air finally getting cooler and giving your body some relief. You had just finished checking up on Soap - him finally feeling more like himself, joking and putting on his charm as usual. It was a relief to see him act like himself, as well as that his wound hadn’t shown any signs of infection. The stairs creaked under your feet as you left Johnny to rest and descended to the ground floor. Glancing into the living room to see Gaz had made himself comfortable on the worn down sofa, and was already passed out. Simon was no where to be seen - and you guessed he was either outside on watch or he’d just found himself a private area for the night, understanding that he prefers his own company sometimes.

You snatched a pillow from the armchair in the living room - unfortunately, the only bed that was actually inhabitable; was occupied by an injured Soap. You would’ve slept in the living room, but Gaz’s snoring was already doing your head in. You moved to the more open room - where the flimsy dining table was. You went to the other end of the room, laying the pillow on the hard ground and lying down. The pillow gave your head some relief, but the hardwood floor dug unmercifully into your already aching back.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling, observing the parts where the paint had chipped. You laid there for a moment, hands resting on your stomach as you enjoyed the peace and quiet - yet it also put you on edge; you could hear a pin drop it was that silent.

You decided to shut your eyes, disappointed to feel not even an ounce of sleep behind your eyes, you let out another frustrated sigh - scrunching your brows as you tried to will yourself to get some rest.

When you heard the quiet shuffling of boots moving towards you, your breath slowed - already knowing who it was as you felt him settle on the ground beside you, a strong arm slithering around your stomach and gently pulled you to him until your back met his hard chest.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice sounding stern - though, you could both hear the smile in it.

“Wha’s it look like i’m doin’?” Price asked rhetorically, his voice low and gravelly - his accent mixing his words to a perfect melody as it vibrated against your ear. You felt his stubble prickling the back of your neck as he placed a single, wet kiss there - a shiver rolling down your spine.

“Not here.” You sighed reluctantly, even having him lay next to you was risky - as well as that it was effectively arousing you like a bitch in heat. It’s been so long - too long - since you’d felt him, having been on this mission for weeks now and not having an ounce of privacy between you.

“Was only wantin’ a cuddle, love.” He responded with a raspy chuckle, his voice having a teasing edge to it as his arm flexed around your torso slightly - pulling you closer to him until there was practically no space between your bodies. “-unless…” he trailed off, his arm around your torso slowly moving south, his fingers dancing along the slit of exposed skin where your top ended and your pants begun.

“They’ll hear us.” You say, your voice growing breathless as you tried to remind him - as well as yourself - looking down to try and watch his fingers in the dark - only being able to make out darker shapes as you felt his finger tease under the waistband of your pants - trailing along the sensitive skin of you abdomen.

“We’ll be quiet.” He says, his liquid voice soothing you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck - also looking down to watch his hands work as they slowly begin to pop the buttons of your pants open.

You don’t reply, breath bated as you feel your pants grow loose on your hips and leisurely pushed down to your thighs - feeling your skin being exposed to the air.

He lets out a hum against your neck, adjusting his head to softy suck at the thin skin of your jugular - feeling your breath hitch as his warm, large hand slides further down, slipping under the cotton fabric of your underwear and cupping your pussy, feeling how hot, puffy and slick you were under his palm.

“Oh, sweetheart..” He groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans more over you to get a better look at your face, a smug smirk pulling his lips and goatee up as his hand wedges itself between your closed thighs - flexing his wrist to essentially grind his hand against your neglected cunt. “How long ya been like this? All wet for me?” He asked lowly - though he knew you were too focused on not crying out to answer him. His pride grew as he felt your hips begin to rock on their own accord, grinding into his palm as well as brushing your arse against his clothed cock. “Soaked… and I haven’t even put my fingers in you yet.” He practically growls against your neck - his voice reverberating through your entire body, his touch feeling electric.

“John…” you breathe a quiet whine, and he feels his chest swell as he could already hear the pleading edge in your voice, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants.

“Tell me to stop.” He breathes, his hand pressing up against you - feeling your slick stick to his palm. He let out a low, gravelly breath as he felt how hot and wet you were. He doesn’t wait for you to respond - because he knows you won’t. He knows you won’t tell him to stop.

And you know it too.

You hear the metal of his zipper being pulled, the noise joining the soundtrack of your heavy breathing. The hand still buried inside of your underwear shifts, spreading your slick over your puffy clit, sending small jolts through your body. When you hear a quiet, strangled groan from behind you, you turn to look over your shoulder.

Price was still laying on his side behind you, his pants being pulled down enough so that his cock was free. You watched in awe as he slowly fisted his dick, pumping himself languidly as his other hand was still buried inside of your underwear - a calloused thumb circling your bud of nerves while you felt two of his thick fingers tease at your quivering, drooling entrance.

You thankfully didn’t need to whine and beg - mostly because John was growing just as desperate as you were. His thick fingers sank into you, stretching you more than your own fingers could, you let out a soft hiss as your hips squirmed a little.

“Be quiet.” Price orders, his tone authoritative yet dripping with lust, he began slowly dragging his fingers in an out of you - scissoring you open to get you ready for his cock. His chin rested on your shoulder again as he watched you squirm and bite your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, his voice a breath of air against your ear - “so fuckin’ tight.”

His other hand released its hold on his cock, lifting to cup your jaw and turn you to face him. He pried your bottom lip from under your teeth with his thumb before he planted his lips on yours - letting out a long exhale through his nose as he relished the taste of you. His fingers moving a little faster as your quiet noises fell onto his tongue.

He pulled back a moment later, his face hovering above yours. You could only just see his face in the dark, his lips parted as he took in your expression.

“Open.”

Like the good girl you were, you did as you were told, your lips parting and your tongue peeking out invitingly. He let out a small groan of approval before he spat into your mouth. You took what he gave you, whimpering a little as you swallowed. His fingers pulled out of you then, leaving you feeling empty. A protest was on the tip of your tongue before you felt him use his booted foot to push your pants the rest of the way down your legs, and you quickly kicked them off your ankles, the sound of fabric hitting the floor filling the room for a beat.

One of his thighs wriggled between your legs, pushing your legs open as he melded against you. Wasting no time in gathering your slick with the flushed tip of his cock before he pushed into you. Pressing your lips together again as you both groaned from the stretch of his cock slowly filling you.

“So fuckin’ tight…” he groaned again, his voice barely above a whisper as his head fell onto your shoulder - his cock throbbing between your hot, constricting walls. “Like you were made for me, love.” He added with a breathless chuckle, slowly rocking his hips until he was fully buried into you.

“John-“ you gasped as he bottomed out, your body already writhing beside him, your chest rising and falling with shallower breaths.

At the sound of your noises unintentionally upping in volume, his free hand came to clasp around your mouth - muffling the little whimpers threatening to escape. “I know…” he cooed against your ear in a whisper. “Got to be quiet for me sweetheart, don’t want to others to catch us — to catch me filling you up like this.” He breathed, his own breathing quickening as he began to rock his hips in hard, shallow thrusts.

The moan that escaped was trapped into his palm, your legs already quivering as his cock dragged against every spot inside of you it seemed only he could find. You weakly rocked back against him, hearing his hot breath fan against your ear as it seemed he was also trying to stay quiet.

“Not gonna last long, love.” He says honestly. You too were already feeling the beginnings of shock waves indicating an incoming orgasm. It’d been such a long few weeks since he’d been able to fuck you. “Need you to come around my cock before I can fill you up.” He growls, the hand not muffling your mouth reached down to fan across your clit - your body immediately tensing, your cunt practically strangling his cock.

His pelvis kept hitting your arse in slow but hard thrusts, rocking your body with him as his chest remained glued to your back. One of his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt while the other was down to where you were joined together - touching your clit in tight circles. His face pressed into your neck, his goatee burning your skin deliciously. Your teeth trapped your bottom lip between them - forcing yourself to muffle your noses - almost to the point you could taste copper in your mouth.

It felt like the knot in your stomach was tightening by the minute, your body shuddering and your thighs tensing as they were forced open by his own muscled thighs.

“M’gonna come-“ you moan quietly, spurring him on as he let a low groan into your neck. He picked up his pace a little, nearly rolling you onto the side with the force of his thrusts, his fingers began smacking tapping at your throbbing clit, his cock piercing you open as his thrust grow sloppy. His hot tongue laved over the think skin of your neck - the sensitive spot just under your neck that he knew would have you trembling.

About several seconds later it happened. Your abdomen coiling taught as you felt heat and desire crash through you, your lips parting in a silent moan as you stiffened for a moment - your pussy quivering around him as you came.

He continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to your face as he watched your expression contort with euphoria. He let out a low and breathy groan when he felt you tighten around him. “That’s right, love… make a mess on me-“ he encouraged, his gravelly voice whispering into your ear as he held you to him.

He wasn’t that far behind you, grunting curses and profanities into your ear about filling you up as his hips met yours with one final, hard thrust, before he was spilling his hot come into you. His body shuddering beside you as he panted into your neck again.

You let out a quiet, weak moan as you felt warmth of his spend bloom inside of you. You both stayed there for a few minutes, catching your breaths as you felt sweat dancing over your skin - your pussy still pulsing around his softening cock from the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.

“Fuckin’ hell..” he breathed — his voice trailing to a soft chuckle as he slowly pulled his lax cock out of you, gently shushing you when you whined at the loss. “So good f’me, always such a good girl…” he praises, kissing around your ear as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

As your captain coddled you and cleaned you up, you were both blissfully unaware of the ogling eyes from the shadows, the moonlight shining through the window giving a glimmer of light to reflect against the cool surface of the skull mask…

A/N: hope everyone enjoyed! Sorry it took so long to get out been a lil busy. I couldn’t resist adding the little mention of Ghost in the end — I LOVE reading those fics and head cannons of Ghost x you x Price.

Ooo maybe I should write a Ghost x reader x Price??? Lmk!!

[tanked-up]

I feel like Soap begged them to do this

[sickuma]

TULIPS — a König fic.

❱ This will have two parts (or more) depending on how the comments on tiktok are /j but it'll probably be more than two! please keep in mind that the **" "** in italics are their memories, or something they said before the incident.

ꜝ？angst warning, as well as mentions of injuries. pairing is König x reader !

this is unedited, grammatical and spelling errors are to be expected.

➴ SYNOPSIS — You and König were in a mission when you see a lens-flare aimed right at his chest, without hesitation, you lunge and take the hit for him.

VORFRUEDE — the joyful intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

"[name], call for backup." 

You nod, doing your best to comply as much as you can despite the exhaustion which enveloped your body,

It's your duty. It's your job to protect,

"Backup's on the way, König. Evac is almost there too, we just have to—"

You will never die for these people,

You wouldn't allow yourself to die for the military. No matter how brutal your battles are, you've sworn to always put yourself first.

"König."

A ragged breath escaped your lips.

You would never choose someone else over your own life.

No one would come first before yours,

No one else but him.

"König!"

It was as if you caught a brief glimpse of your world crumbling down, seeing that red dot aimed right at his heart, you couldn't hear anything else but this blinding ringing.

Without another thought, you lunged towards his direction. Pushing him aside roughly as you take the hit for him,

As if this moment was purposely slowed down, you saw his eyes widened through your blur of a vision, you saw the glint of panic in his eyes.

"König, when we retire, 

let's have a small house and garden."

"[name]!"

König found himself falling on the hard floor, not feeling the impact of your push as his attention focused on your trembling figure,

He saw it,

He saw how you froze, how your head slowly turned down to look at the horrifying wound. Raising both your hands weakly to look at the stains of blood.

"In that garden, we'll grow tulips."

His frightened gaze laid on your collapsing figure. Without wasting a moment more, he rushed towards your limp body, lifting you up to sit you somewhere safer.

With tears stained eyes, he dropped to the floor, holding your trembling body close to him as his clouded vision attempts to stop the threatening tears,

"Keep your eyes open, [name]."

His body shook, he could feel his hands shake terribly. Looking down at you with a horrified expression.

The love of his life laid limp on his lap,

And it's because of him.

Of all the reasons, did it have to be him?

"Evac is— evac is coming. Please please please."

He knew the bullet hit somewhere fatal, otherwise you wouldn't have gone into shock. He saw the life fade from your eyes,

But you raised your weak hands to caress his clothed face, a smile making its way to your blood stained lips.

"The tulips, könig, they're gonna be so pretty."

"no, no, no." He shook his head as he saw the acceptance in your eyes.

"I've never loved anyone as much as I did with you, Keep that—keep that in your mind könig."

He shakes his head vigorously, screaming for you to wake up. Shaking your trembling body, 

The tulips, we still haven't planted them.

Wake up.

"[name] you can't, please, the tulips."

Who knew loving you would be a beautiful tragedy?

Have you known,

[name]?

Have you known that you'll be taking my heart wherever you go?

Have you known I'll grow those tulips, just for you?

"Grow the tulips for me, my love."

"I won't." He shook his head repeatedly. 

"Without you, I won't."

With your weak, strained voice you spoke. For him you kept trying,

"We'll plant them together—right Liebling?" He desperately spoke, keeping his hand tightly placed on your wound to apply pressure.

"Just as we planned. Together. In our small house. After we—" he paused to sob, letting out the clashing emotions that pierced through him.

"You even said that we'll have a cat, he's gonna be named Leaf because of our garden. You said I'll wake up next to you, I'll wake up to you playing with my hair—because I like it so much—right? [name]?"

"We still have to do those."

His lungs felt trapped in every word he spoke, it felt as if he’d pass out. Never had he felt so weak and hopeless, not for a mission, not for something,

Especially not ever for a person.

And yet here he sat, crying uncontrollably for you to stay and fulfil the plans you’ve made together. 

"You still have to—"

"You still have to marry me," he whispered. 

"Schatz bitte."

He cried, as he couldn't do anything else but wait for evac. He needed you, 

He can't lose you.

Not now. Not ever.

"I know I sound selfish, I know you're hurting and you want to rest but—I just—what would I be without you?"

Tulips,

Without their roots, they are lifeless.

Tulips without their sunlight are bound to wilt.

You felt your own tears trickle down your face,

"Liebling, I won't just let you go. I won't. Even after we planted those tulips," He paused, unable to control his emotions as he looked into your weak eyes. Your eyes that are on the verge of giving up,

"I'll keep needing you, I'll keep holding on."

And as if on cue, he hears the door thump. For a moment, he felt relieved, his tears abruptly stopping as his head turned towards the door. “[name], see? Evac is—” His heart dropped when the realisation hit, it wasn’t evac. They would have asked first, they would have given callouts. It’s the syndicates,

With an exhausted breath, his eyes grew darker, placing [name] on the corner hurriedly and gently. “Stay here, call for evac again alright? Don’t—don’t close your eyes [name], please.” He placed a kiss on top of your head before he picked his weapon up once again, sparing you one last glance before he quietly made his way towards the entrance. The sadness fading for a moment as rage replaced the burning emotion in his heart,

They did this.

They're taking you away from him.

With gritted teeth he strides, coming in contact with the geared enemies. As if he’d forgotten how exhausted he was, he fought efficiently. Taking hits and giving just the same, he was enraged, and they felt it. How he grunts and how he raised his hand. His strength and size overpowered them easily, 

It was as if he lost himself, he looked almost unreal. Taking lives with a clenched jaw, he felt anger. As he remembered what could possibly happen because of what they did,

What he can possibly go through.

He pants, staring down at the bloody sight. Taking in the smell and the horrendous end he made them face,

It didn't feel accomplished. Inside that room, you sat with a bullet deep inside your body. Defeating these people didn't feel as accomplished as it did before.

He weakly walked back—praying to whoever that you’re still breathing, that you’re still alive to continue on with your lives, still alive to plant the tulips with him. With droopy eyes he saw your bloody figure, sat with closed eyes and the talkie wrapped around your hands,

His tears fell once again, “schatz, I'm back.” he whispered, collapsing beside your body. Throwing the talkie and replacing it with his hands, clasping yours together with his tightly. 

The tulips,

“We couldn't separate them so we had to fit both of them in one evac vehicle.”

The captain looked at horangi in question, “Couldn't separate them?” “König held them too tightly, we were only able to separate them when we arrived here. Roze suggested letting them share a room together but due to some policies, the hospital didn't allow it.” he explained further, as they looked at König’s sleeping figure,

He had a frown despite being in a deep sleep.

“I see.” the captain mumbles, “make sure to let him know that [name] is safe, I'm certain hell would be loose if he didn't see them near him.” Horangi nodded, he spoke just before the captain reached the door. “[name]’s in a coma, doctors have informed us that they’re unstable.” “They’ll pull through, for König they will.” the captain replies without turning his head back. “They spoke of their retirement recently, [name] wouldn't disappoint König.”

“What color of tulips will we have?”

“Mm, white.”

“Why's that?” he asks you,

“To symbolize how sorry I am.”

He gasped, sitting up on the bed with his hands tightly wrapped around his neck, attempting to catch his breaths. The dream had hunted him, the look on your face,

The apologetic tone you spoke with,

What did you mean by that? What are you sorry for? Before he could take in his surroundings, he exited the room. Uncaring about the chords that connect to him, he walked and walked till he reached the front desk. “[name]. Where is their room?” He spoke sternly, catching the nurse off guard, he knew he looked terrifying but that’s not of his concern right now. He needs to know you're here, he needs to know you have a room, because if you dont it can only mean one thing.

And he’ll refuse to believe that. “Ah— [name] under the KorTac factions is it?” the nurse stuttered, flipping through the pages of their record book frantically, not wanting to cause the soldier any more agitation.

“Room 405 sir. The patient who’s in—” Without hearing any more words from the nurse, he ran, hurriedly ran to wherever that room could be. Worriedly reading the numbers in each room as adrenaline enveloped his body. Relief, happiness, everything all at one, he could cry.

But not yet, not until he sees you, not until he holds you. “[name]!” He chimes, barging inside the room recklessly. There was no one else inside, only you on the bed, sleeping soundly. He pants, walking closer, feeling his hands tremble by the sight of you. “Liebling.” he mumbled, reaching for the chair and sitting by you. “Love, you're here.” He could feel the tears fall at last, feeling his heart at ease. The sight of you removed the thousands of worries on his shoulder, that dream meant nothing, you had nothing to be sorry for. You didn't leave him, “You didn't—you didn't go.” he broke down, laying his head down on your hands which he held. Sobbing to you. “When we go back, let’s retire as soon as possible, okay?” he mumbled, lips trembling as he spoke. His voice broke with happiness. Croaking out whispers of  ‘I love you’s’ while he laid on your hand. “No more of these. No more.” “Let’s buy a house, a small one. Then we’ll go get leaf and—and, the tulips, my love.”

The tulips,

In our home.

Let’s grow the—

“Tulips?” His breath stopped, he froze as you spoke. He raised his head to look at you, weakly staring back at him. “What tulips?” “Where am i?”

The rasp on your voice was heard, the confusion evident and visible from the way you spoke and looked at him. He felt his heart drop, 

“Who are you?”

[rascal-xo]

I genuinely like to think that Ghost has a massive sweet tooth. It’s always the people you don’t expect imo

Could you imagine reader casually bakes an apple pie one day to let ghost try and he goes MENTAL like I’m talking bro is hearing colors

I just envision him as a big hulking gorilla scarfing down his lovers pie and having crumbs all over his face. Aaaahhh my sweet big bad boy

Sweet Indulgence |Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader|

Chapter Summary: The one where his woman and a sweet and simple pie is Simon Riley's ultimate weakness.

Warnings: Sweet tooth rotting fluff, Domestic!Simon

Word Count: 819

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request!!

You carefully mix the flour and butter, the sweet scent of cinnamon and caramelized apples filling the room as you work. The breeze flowing in from the open windows brings in the fresh aroma of blooming flowers and fills your senses with the promise of spring.

Simon has been off on leave for the first few weeks of spring. The weight of the world is on his shoulders when he's on missions with he team, but being at your shared home is nothing less than heavenly for the Lieutenant.

Simon is out in the yard, planting flowers in your shared garden. You smile to yourself, catching a glimpse of your husband bare faced and hunched over on his knees in the grass, carefully tending to the pink lilies, completely lost in the peacefulness of his own home.

As you finish preparing the apple pie, you slide it into the oven and set the timer. You take a moment to peek out the window and watch Simon in the yard, the gentle breeze ruffling his blond hair, which turns golden under the sun.

You grab a glass of cold lemonade and make your way to the yard to join him. The sky is painted with hues of pink and orange, the air now a few degrees cooler as the evening approaches.

"Hey there, soldier," you say as you approach him, placing a kiss on his cheek. Simon turns his head, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

"Hi, beautiful." he replies with a smile. "Missed me?"

"Just wanted to come and see you up close," you say, taking a seat next to him in the grass. "And to bring you some lemonade."

Simon takes the glass from your hand and takes a sip, his eyes closing as he savors the cool drink. "Mmm, this is perfect," he says, setting the glass down. Simon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him to leave a kiss in your hair.

"The gardens coming together nice." You notice, looking at his handiwork.

"Yeah, I think it's looking pretty good," he says, his gaze lingering on the flowers. "But it's nothing compared to the beauty that's sitting right next to me."

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, leaning into his embrace. "You're such a smooth talker," you tease, looking up at him with a grin.

Simon chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only for you, my love." You leave him to his work, with a sigh of contentment, you take the pie out of the oven to cool and head upstairs to take a quick shower. The warm water soothing your muscles as you let your mind wander.

After your shower, you towel off and change into a comfortable sundress, the fabric light and airy against your skin. As you make your way down the stairs, you can smell the sweet aroma of the pie filling the house, making your mouth water. "Si, the pies done-" you begin to call out but stop in your tracks when you make it to the kitchen.

As you enter the kitchen, you see Simon sitting at the counter with a slice of the apple pie in front of him. His broad shoulders are hunched forward, and he's digging into the pie with a fork, his movements almost primal as he savors the sweet treat. Crumbs and bits of apple are scattered all over his face, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Was gonna say that the pies ready, but seems like you figured that one out." You tease, making your way over to him.

Simon turns his head, smiling in surprise when he sees you. "Hey, I was just testing it out," he says, trying to wipe the crumbs off his face with the back of his hand. "You've outdone yourself, darling. This is the second best thing I've ever tasted." You chuckle and shake your head at his eyebrow raise, reaching for a napkin to help him clean up.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, taking a seat next to him. "But you have to save some for me, you know." Simon grins, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "I don't know, it's so good, I might just have to finish it all."

You playfully swat his arm, rolling your eyes. "Don't you dare, Simon Riley." He chuckles and leans in for a kiss, the taste of the apple pie still lingering on his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it, my love," he says, pulling you in for a warm embrace.

"I'll save you a slice, I promise." As you settle into his arms, the warmth of his embrace and the sweet aroma of the pie filling the air, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple moments of happiness and peace that you share with your husband, even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

A/N: Domestic Simon >>>>>

[cynthplop]

laswell being cool content: where? 

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 5)

Word Count - 3.8

Summary - Honestly, there isn’t any plot to this one. Just sex.  

Tags/Warnings - 18+ SMUT,  Fingering, P in V, Oral, Unprotected sex, Edging, Size kink, Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - I’m back baby...maybe 

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3  ❤︎ Part 3.5  ❤︎ Part 4 

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

It was just your luck that there was no hot water, and by the time you washed out the soap from your hair, your teeth were chattering uncontrollably. You could have sworn a minute longer and you’d have ice forming on the tips of your lashes. You couldn’t get dressed into your civi clothes fast enough, a thin but warm sweater and a plain pair of sweats. You packed for warmth and practicality, not seducing husky men, and some small bold part of you wished you had. 

Simon was already in the barracks waiting for his turn for a shower. His gear was in a neat pile next to the cot, and he had just pulled off his combat shirt when you entered the room. 

He truly was all power and strength, all solid muscle and hardened skin. He was built and bred for the battlefield and imbued with cruel intent. The tattoos that travelled from wrist to bicep were stark against his skin. If you stepped outside yourself for a moment you could see why so many men feared to cross his path. Yet, here he stood 15 feet away from you and not a single thought was one of dread. With you, he was softer, calmer. Even his usual rough tone settled into a smokey version of itself. He still carried a dominating edge with him but he never misused it with you.       

And…

And you were staring. 

He was crouched down at his pack when he finally looked over his shoulder at you. He had removed his mask and he looked just as good as he did when you saw his face earlier. If not better. If that was possible. His dark hair was unruly like he had just woken up from a nap. His face was dirty with a mixture of paint, sweat, dirt, and more likely than not, blood. He was unkept but more in a charming, alluring way. 

Oh, you were in deep. He had you wrapped around his finger and he was well aware he had that much sway over you. Still, he would not make a move until you made it very clear and unmistakable what you want from him. He would give you everything and anything you wanted, but not unless you told him.    

“There’s no hot water,” you willed the words to sound anything but bothered. 

His gaze dripped down your body, watched as your body shivered from the lingering bone-deep chill, “I needed a cold one anyways,” he tossed the dirty combat shirt into his pack and picked up the fresh one. Even in the low light, you could see every dip and angle of his muscles as he bent down. 

The summer night air might be warm but it wasn’t warm enough to warrant a cold shower, “Who would take a cold shower on purpose?” you made your way to your own pack, readying to set up your sleeping bag. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he grabbed whatever else he needed from his bag before disappearing into the small shower room. On his way past you, you threw a clean pair of balled-up socks at him, which he unsurprisingly caught before throwing them back at you, “Smarten’ up.”  

“I would like to know,” you quipped just before he closed the door. It’s not like you’d die without an answer you just wanted to have the last word. The only reason he let you have it was because he needed to get out of the same room as you as soon as humanly possible. He needed the cold shower to 

The cold shower was null once Simon came back out into the room. The moment his eyes locked onto yours, he was just as frustrated and deprived as before. You could practically taste his want from across the room. Could see it in the way he stalked back to his side of the room, his attention locked on you.

He changed into a regular green t-shirt, the colour faded around the seams and fit snugly around his shoulders and chest, and green army-issued sweats. His still-wet hair was pushed back and away from his face.    

“You clean up nice,” you tested as you slid into your sleeping bag, your head tilting to the side. 

There was a flash of white teeth in the low light, “Keep that mouth of yours shut for me?” his words were more of a plea than an order. He moved to turn off the propane lamps, replacing the light was a singular red light torch which was better for concealment and stealth because it was harder to see from a distance.

“Easy, big boy,” your grin was fiendish, “I’m only making conversation.”

“Yuh huh,” he grunted back at you as he checked the locks on all the doors and windows. The final window was right above your head and after he checked it he crouched down beside you, the torch dangling in his hand between his legs, “You gonna be warm enough?” 

“Are you offering to keep me warm, Riley?” you shifted into a kneeling position, and still you didn’t match his height, your knees were almost touching his feet.  

His answering smile was wolfish, “I was offering you an extra blanket.”

“And,” you said slowly, “What of you?” 

“I’ll be fine,” It was hard to discern whether this desire was coming from someplace genuine or if it was the result of missing him and needing a distraction from today's events. Perhaps it was both. It was evident that he was wondering the same. You could see it in his eyes. The way they turned inquisitive each time you returned his attention. The way he would slow his approach and wait for your response, gauge your reaction.

Your gaze fell to his lips, imagining how they’d feel on yours, on your skin. His grin shifted to something more shy and he looked away, looking into the room's darkness. Another moment watching you and he would have jumped on you like a deprived animal. Which is why you had to take the first move. 

Gently you pulled the torch from his grasp, placing it up on the floor beside him. He turned to face you once more. With hands made of air, your fingers drove into his hair. The space between your lips felt too wide and too close at the same time. I felt like time itself was yours, like you were holding it in the palm of your hand, warm and heavy. This moment was well overdue.  

It was a whisper of a kiss. A timid gesture that the both of you leaned into. Pressed into. With trembling hands, his fingers curled around your waist, digging into the supple flesh there. The wanton groan that rumbled deep in his chest was gasoline to a fire. Your hands slipped down to the hard muscles of his chest and pushed him back into a sitting position. His free hand caught him just in time to break the fall. You were quick to move into his lap, straddling his hips.

“Woah,” he huffed, the crooked grin returning, “I’m not going anywhere.”    

“You always have something cheeky to say?” you hummed, hands encircling the back of his neck, running the expanse of his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m working on that,” he leaned back on his hands, allowing you access to all of him. 

You lifted his shirt, just enough to sneak your fingers underneath. His skin burned and his muscles twitched beneath your touch, “A rather new development?”     

He was all enchanted compliance and keen submission for you, “It’s taken the back seat as of late,” his chest rose and fell rapidly as your hands grazed lower before returning to his chest. 

“Never took you for a procrastinator,” Your lips connected with his jaw, trailing lower and lower. 

The man underneath you was a complete juxtaposition from the man who prowled the battlefield and lurked in the shadows. Even with everything he was capable of, you felt safe with him. Felt secure. Protected. 

“I can’t think when you’re touching me, Darlin’,” When you pulled away his head was tilted back and his eyes were mere slits, foggy with lust. 

Right now, he was docile, but you wanted to see him get wicked for you.      

You lowered your hips onto his and rolled them. You were met with hard arousal and the compromising heat between your legs shot up your spine and into your throat. There was a synchronized moan that bounced between you and like a knee-jerk reaction a hand was braced at your hips. Your motions quickly turned feverish, both trying to match each other's desperate rhythm. It was all gnashing teeth, open-mouthed kisses, and shared breath.

With shaking fingers you tugged at his shirt, “Off,” you could hardly manage the single syllable. And who was he kidding, the few seconds he had to pull away from you to remove his shirt made him regret ever putting it on. 

You paused as you traced the hard tissue of his numerous scars, and wondered which was he acquired during his service and which ones he received from his father. He remained utterly still, even his chest ceased to rise and fall with breath. He was waiting for you to reject him, to recoil from all the imperfections. 

You leaned down to press a kiss to one of them, one that looked like it never had time to properly heal. Like the wound was ripped open over and over and over again. Then another kiss to the scar next to it. You couldn’t tell if it was your own heart or if his was so beating so loud you could hear it from where you sat. When you lifted your eyes to him you decided it was probably his you were hearing. His eyes were wide with shock and his swollen lips were parted in awe.

“Simon—”    

“I want this,” he gasped, “But if you’re not sure we have to stop now.” 

You would have to stop now because it’d kill him if he had to stop later. 

Your expression turned sultry and you removed your sweater from your body, revealing nothing but bare, tingling skin, “Be good to me.”

He moved on you like lightning, and with quick practiced maneuvering you were on your back with him cradled between your legs. Gone was the man who let you dominate him a few seconds ago. Calloused hands ran the length of your sides, up to your throat and held you in place. Though he didn’t squeeze your neck hard enough to choke, it was a tight enough grip to let you know that he was in control now. He sucked bruises into the sensitive skin of your collarbone, your chest. His tongue flicked out to lick apologies into the marks he left behind. His teeth scraped against your breast and your breath hitched in anticipation. 

But he pulled back, his head tilted to the side, “Since day one,” he murmured before raising himself to a kneel, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his own eyes, “Since the day I met you I’ve wanted you like this,” his heated gaze flicked to your face, your expression no doubt matching his, “Like that,” his voice trailed off and he lowered himself back down to you, “I’ve wanted you…” 

His skin against yours wasn’t close enough, it never would be. You needed him like you needed air. Like you needed laughter. You were starving for him. You were starved of him. There wasn’t enough time in the night for you to be rid of this carnal need for him. 

His mouth was back on your chest, nipping and sucking at you. You arched your back into his touch in a plea for more. More. More.

His breath caught between his teeth, his fingers lingering on your thigh. With anguished hesitance, he traced the scar and his head dipped to your leg. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage, begging to be let out so it could wrap itself around his. There was no need for words for you to understand what was going through his head right now. The guilt and bitterness that rolled off him heated your skin. 

“I thought you were dead.”

You were sure he was talking about when your vehicle blew up with you inside of it, “Me too,” you murmured into the dark room, fingers finding his jaw, guiding him back to looking at you. It was all you could do to offer him a weary smile, “But, I’m not. Because of you.” 

The man used his own body as a shield for you, carried you to safety and brought you back from the brink of death. Without him, you weren’t entirely sure if things would have turned out the same. Not that you wanted to think about it in the first place. 

His lips parted, his brows furrowing in preparation for an argument. You didn’t give him the chance to make one, bringing him back down to you for an open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue licks at him to open for you, “No more talking, Riley.” 

His answering grin was enough for you, his thumbs hooked into the hem of your pants and pulling them until they were on the floor. He hissed at the sight of you, completely naked, before him. Those tortured dark eyes take in every curve and dip of your body. His dopy smile told you all you needed to know about how truthful he was when he said: “Since day one”.

He placed a chaste kiss on your mouth but quickly moved down the length of your body. It was like he couldn’t get between your legs fast enough, his previous hesitation had melted away with the heat you two made. 

“Oh,” you gasped as his tongue found your center, licking a languid swipe up. He placed a heavy hand on your chest meant to keep you still, while the other wrapped around your thigh to keep your legs open for him. You cover the hand over your chest with your own, squeezing and digging your nails in as he licked and sucked at you. You rolled your hips into him, legs curled around his shoulders and panting in desperation. He flattened his tongue against you, and you could feel your arousal and slick leak from you. Eyes squeezed shut and throat constricting with a moan. 

You were fiendish for him. You’ve been with men and women before, had both good and bad sex, but this…this was different. This was a release. Within seconds he had you at the edge, but he didn’t let you fall. Instead, he kept you there teetering back and forth.

He added a single thick finger, tracing the outline of your cunt before pushing it inside you. His mouth never stopped working at you, circling your clit. His digits curled inside you in perfect rhythm with your own motions. He was following the lead of your body, listening to the sounds you made and each reaction. 

Another finger stretched you, and your legs instinctively closed around his head at the feel of them pressing into your G-spot. 

“Ohmygod,” you tossed your head back, arching into his touch. You were shaking and twisting in his arms, your climax was right there. 

His fingers left you feeling empty, his arms forcing your legs from his head. You were spread out, soaking, and aching beneath him. Annoyance and discomfort bubbled up into your throat, “You fucking–” you started only to be cut off when he dove back into you, his wet tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. 

No more talking.            

He didn’t need to say the words. He pulled back only far enough to pull his cock out from his pants. You had your fantasies and imagination to guess the size of him but whatever you would have come up with wouldn’t have compared. For a second you contemplated backing out. He was going to split you in half. You swallowed, the arousal between your legs becoming unbearable. 

You needed him. Now. 

“I’ll be slow with you,” he huffed, his eyes following yours. He wrapped a hand around himself, making long, slow strokes. Precum beaded at the head. Any other day you’d take your time licking that up for him. 

Words betrayed you and it was all you could do to nod at him. 

“I need to hear you say it, darlin',” he groaned, his entire body quaking with deprivation. 

You dipped your fingers to your core, dragging the slick across your stomach, “Please, fuck me, Simon.”

His answering moan was beyond seductive. He rocked into your cunt, wetting himself on your arousal. Back and forth. Back and forth. Sliding across your pussy, pausing where he would have bottomed out if he were inside you. The tip of him reached your belly button and you slid your fingers up the slit at the head of his cock. He jolted, pulling back ever so slightly. Then he lined himself up with your opening. He pushed just the tip in, stopping there to allow you time to adjust. Pulling out. Pushing in a little further. Pulling out. 

You wrapped your leg around him, forcing him in all the way. He swore at the sensation of you being around him. You bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and the stretch burned. 

“You okay?” he immediately cupped your face in his hands, eyes searching your face. 

With an experimental movement of your hips, you managed, “Just move. Just move.”

Simon heeded your plea, drawing out before sliding back in. You could almost feel him in your throat, you felt so full of him. You had to time your breath to match his rhythm, if only so his reentry wouldn’t knock the air from your lungs. He leaned down to you, his arms on either side of your head. With every stroke, you could feel him hit your cervix, and every time it elicited a crude moan from you. 

“Atta girl, you’re taking me so well,” his gaze burned at where you two connected, watching himself disappear and reappear. You pushed his dark hair back from his face, wanting to see every micro-expression he made. His attention whipped back to you, a roughish smile spreading across his lips, “You’re so beautiful.”  

His speed picked up, his breath catching with every pump. You felt your climax swell up again and you clamped down around him. He licked a stripe up the column of your throat, placed burning kisses up the curve of your jaw, and sucked welts into the sensitive skin on your neck. Sweat beaded on your chest like the firey heat inside your core was making it’s way to your skin. 

He wrapped his arm underneath you, arching you further into him. His large hands encircled your waist, pulling you into his cock. The angle was too perfect. Your eyes rolled and it made you see stars. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, the absolute ecstasy ripped any sort of coherent word from your tongue. 

His thumb came to rub fast tight circles on your clit, ushering you to your orgasm. You twisted in his grasp, writhing at the sensation. It was too much and not enough. He was too much and not enough.

“Cum for me, baby girl. Show me how good I make you feel,” his slightly pained expression revealed his own proximity to his ruin. He’s been waiting for this moment since the moment you met and he’s been on edge around you the entire time. He was struggling to keep himself railing you into the floor. Until there was nothing left but tears and whimpers. He wouldn’t do that to you. Not yet. You needed more time to get used to him. You needed time to memorize the shape and size of him. 

The band he pulled taut inside you finally snapped and your body stiffened. Your orgasm crashed into you so hard that you forgot your name. There was only one thing on your mind and it was him, the feeling of him. The sound that came out of you was one of crazed bliss and pleasure. Your body developed a mind of its own and you tried pushing his fingers away from you, the stimulation quickly becoming too much for you to handle. 

He shifted his position, one hand holding your legs around his hips and the other supporting his weight, fingers gripping at your loose hair. He leaned down, burying his face in your neck. His breath was warm on your skin, sending tingles all the way down your legs. You clawed at his back, nails leaving behind angry red lines. He relished in the pain. Prayed whatever marks you left on him would never heal over. He would keep coming back to you for more. He was inside you and still, he felt like he needed you closer. He needed you under his skin. In his lungs. The mere thought of you made him half wild. His relentless pace never allowed you the time to recover from your last climax as another rose from the depths. 

He murmured sweetly in your skin, “One more.” 

Like the words were gospel, you obeyed them. Tightening around his length you came again. His own release followed, pulling out the last possible second. With a strangled moan, his hot cum covered your stomach and dripped down the sides of your thighs. 

The two of you stayed like that, entangled in each other, fighting for breath. He placed a tender kiss on your jaw, then another on your mouth, “You feel way better than I imagined you would.”

You grinned at him, “You think about fucking me a lot?” 

“Only every time I jerk off,” he leaned back on his heels, his eyes devouring you, “I think about you all the time actually…” he tilted his head to the side, “and not just about how good you taste,” using his discarded shirt he began to clean up the mess you two made. Wiping all the fluids and cum from your body. He was so gentle with you. So delicate. Like he was afraid that if he spoke too loud or moved too fast you turn into dust. Blow away with the breeze. 

You sat back up, bringing his face back to yours, “Shower?” Your hair was still damp from the last one you took, but circumstances called for it. 

His face seemed to light up at the invitation, and his eyes darkened with mischief.  

Masterlist

A/N - Just recovering from a minor surgery my bad for the delay

Tag List

General -  @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎  @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @meaganjean  ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @mymommy ❤︎ @mychrysanthemum​ ❤︎

His Foresight - @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎ @aquarose38 ❤︎ @xheera ❤︎ @unsatisfiedanddisappointed ❤︎ @okayyadriana 

[da1systhings]

them your honour.

[mockerycrow]

ON MY MIND (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; you wear kyle’s hoodie and he’s forced to confront some suppressed emotions.

[WARNINGS; gaz is a smoker & is emotionally weary, fluff!]

“Kyle!”

His head tilts a bit from the call of his name, muffled and frustrated. His eyes focused on the glass plate in his hand, his other hand scrubbing the thing with an overly-used sponge. “Yeah?” He calls back, only turning his head by his left shoulder a tad bit so you can hear him better as he’s assuming you’re not near the kitchen.

Kyle hears you shuffling around, your shoes scuffing against the floorboards. You don’t respond for a second, but Kyle knows you’re focused on.. Whatever you were doing. He puts the soapy plate in the other side of the sink in the next tub, reaching for the next dish. However, his sleeve slips down his arm a bit, getting wet and soapy. “Ah..” He cringes out loud, his lips pulling uncomfortably as he uses two fingers to tug the now wet sleeve back into place.

Kyle hears your footsteps approach from the next room, causing him to tilt his body so he can keep his wet hands over the sink whilst also looking at you. You enter the room with a frustrated look upon your face, your eyebrows furrowed and your lip curled ever so slightly curled. Kyle chuckles, unable to help himself at how pathetic you look at the moment and he knows it’s not over anything important. “What’s wrong?” He murmurs, already amused.

You’re holding up one of Kyle’s hoodies, one the ones that has his last name sprawled across the back. He blinks for a moment before you begin to speak. “I gotta run to the corner store real quick and all of my hoodies are still damp in the dryer,” You exclaim, putting the hoodie down a bit so you can look at him. “Do you mind if I wear your hoodie to walk down there?” 

Kyle’s lips purse for a moment, a weird sensation manifesting in his chest cavity as he thinks about wearing his hoodie. “Go ahead, don’t need you getting sick, yeah?” Kyle utters as he turns back to the sink, pinching the front of his shirt and pulling it from his chest as if it’ll ease the sensation. “Sick! Thanks, Kyle. You want anything?” You ask, quickly pulling the hoodie on, adjusting the sleeves.

Kyle’s back is to you as he grabs another dish, mindlessly cleaning it. “‘Course, sweetness. Grab me some crisps, won’t you?” He says, putting the.. clean(?) dish into the other side of the sink on top of the soapy plate. “Yep, I got it. Bye, Ky!”

The door shuts.

Kyle blinks, staring at the soapy water with the tightness in his chest remaining, even after your exit. He sighs slowly, pushing his thumbs into the corners of his eyes—then he shouts, because now soap is in his eyes. “Shitshit—” He hisses, quickly turning on the faucet to wash his eyes out.

Kyle never asked for his hoodie back—a part of him expected for it to appear folded on his bed, washed and taken care of and the other part wished he never saw it again except for you wearing it. You always seemed to lose your hoodies after that, or you went through your collection much faster than you previously had. Neither of you pointed it out, especially Kyle. He was quite alright with a couple of his hoodies disappearing conveniently right at the times you were planning on leaving for a store, or just an outing in general.

Something sickly sweet twists in Kyle’s gut when he sees you wearing his hoodie. It’s something clawing at his insides, gnawing at his bones—energy that makes him want to bash his head into the wall and he isn’t completely understanding why. The second he sees you wearing one of his hoodies, especially the ones with his name on it.. It’s like a little feral squirrel in his body goes wild. 

Kyle turns in his bed, groaning softly as he rubs his hand over his face, trying to focus on the coolness of his sheets as he rolls over. He thinks about Soap and Price, thinking about the night where you embarrassed him in front of his mates. Kyle stares into the darkness of his room as he thinks about how proud you seemed to be after making them laugh—how you seemed to beam at him after sharing a reassuring look.

“Bloody hell.” Kyle mumbles, his words muffled as he turns his face against the warm of his pillow, his breathing harsh for a moment. A pleasant warmth trickles into his chest as he thinks about his missing hoodies. How he isn’t able to help the giddy smile on his face when he sees you walk through the door, coming home wearing something with his name on it. His. His. His.

Kyle lifts himself from his bed, grunting as his feet hit the cold floor. He patters across the floor, quietly exiting his bedroom. Kyle’s heart thumps harshly against his chest. He shakes his head and gently slaps his cheeks as he walks down the hall towards the living room and kitchen, trying to rid himself of these thoughts—of thinking of you like that. He pauses for a moment when he hears the television on, playing at a low volume. Kyle slows his footsteps as he makes his way past the hall, coming into the living room.

The television is gently illuminating the room and he hears you before he sees you. You’re sleeping on the couch, your favorite blanket sprawled across your lap, your back and head supported by the stupid throw pillows Kyle insisted that you two needed for the couch. Your head is tilted down in a position that looks slightly uncomfortable, your lips parted—wearing his hoodie.

Kyle stares for a minute, his eyes softening as he leans forward, his fingers gentle as he takes your head in his hands and slowly but surely, adjusts the positioning of your head. Kyle watches the way your eyebrows furrow for a moment, your lips pressing back together closed. His lips twitch into a soft smile as he watches you shift in your sleep, your face leaning more into his palm.

Kyle’s heart stops for just a second before he brushes the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, your skin hot under his touch. So warm and full of life.

His chest tightens again and Kyle carefully pulls his hand away from you, his feet quick as he grabs his cigarettes and lighter from the counter near the backdoor, escaping out the back to forget about what his feelings truly mean.

🏷️; @kivino @mlmxreader @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @ornateorchid @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @lieutenantlashfaz @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp @s8nsbride @talooolalolla @sstormyskyess @spicyspicyliving @nyushkawritesstuff

this is from my overall taglist which you can find here. if you would like there to be a roommate!gaz taglist, comment below! mistakenly tagged/wrongly tagged? let me know, no hard feelings.

[harmleikurdraws]

Instruction on some wallet thievery while sketching some bums

[koufli]

!NSFW!

Simon “Ghost” Riley head-cannons. (18+)

Also involves some sensitive topics, (addiction, trauma, aggression etc..)

His behaviour can range from a gentle and caring side/wanting to treat you like a princess and smother you in affection since he hardly got any himself during his younger years. + wants to show you how much he cares about you, doesn’t want to lose you after everything you’ve been through together.

It’ll start off where he’s really affectionate at first, very touchy, loves to use his hands all over your body. You would be in bed, cuddling and he’ll start off with a subtle hand running up your bare stomach, slowly sliding around your skin until he eventually becomes a lot more bolder and start to slide under your bra. He will not hesitate to just keep his hands on your chest and use your breasts as something to grope while his heads nuzzled into your neck.

He definitely loves making out/neck kisses especially. He doesn’t necessarily like being loud since he wants to keep you two as something private, but would love to leave marks to prove to everyone you belonged to someone already.

Loves praising you/getting praised.

He likes to know when he’s doing well and what makes you feel good. He’ll focus on you entirely and is huge on foreplay. He’ll make sure to gently stroke a thumb over your panties until they’re soaked, he likes ruining them/seeing the fabric go dark from your arousal. He focuses on spots that especially make you fidget or make louder noises, he’s very aware and will know which is your most sensitive parts.

And this is why he loves praise, to know he’s doing well and bringing you the most pleasure.

Giving.

He loves fingering you, especially after getting you so wet. He’ll start of really slowly with only one finger, resting his head on your thigh as he watches you squirm. He’ll experiment on you so he gets better at pleasuring you.

Spits on his fingers before actually inserting them.

He’ll quickly progress to two fingers, and this man will not stop. It doesn’t matter if you’re jutting and squirming, he will not stop until you cum all over his fingers or his mouth.

He will make you fuck yourself on his fingers, whether you’re sat on his lap or he’s just between your legs, he will stop and make you do the work just to see his fingers going in and out.

He’s not the type to moan, but he’ll make grunts or soft groans/whimpers. He’s not usually the type to interact during sex, usually he’ll say things like “Hm.” “Mm.” “Mhm.”

If he’s really into it/jealous, etc, he’ll be very vocal.

When actually giving you head, he will grip your thighs open with such strength you won’t be able to close them. He wants to see you wide open at all times.

He’s very good with tongue, will definitely circle your clit + your hole. He lets you grip his hair for support if needed, and absolutely has some sort of suffocating kink.

At the end when you’re close to finishing, he’ll let your legs close just so your thighs can trap him there so you can crush his head with your legs and cum on his face.

Receiving.

This man is not gentle at all, even if he tries to, he loves head.

He’s the type to smear his pre-cum all over your lips, he likes to make a mess of you.

Will grip your head and Bob you up and down his cock, before slamming you straight down.

Again, he loves hearing your gargles/chokes/hiccups. He’ll pull out just before finishing to cum all over your face, making sure he makes a mess.

Again, he’s not very vocal, but will praise.

Definitely hits your face with his cock/taps his tip on your tongue.

When he’s getting a hand Job from you, he’ll be very sensitive.

He hardly ever jerks off since when he’s away from you he’s always busy doing work.

When he does jerk off to the thought of you, he cum’s quickly.

So when you give him a hand job, he won’t last long.

A lot of cursing + heavy breathing. He’s very sensitive and will thrust up into your hand.

When he gets close his thrusts will get quicker and stutter/get choppy and twitchy before he cum’s and tosses his head back with a groan/grunt.

Because of his upbringing, his moods are very varied. Sometimes he can be gentle^^, but sometimes he’s rough and either has no regrets or is really apologetic after. It depends how he’s feeling.

He’s the type to rub his tip against your hole before entering to tease you.

Will use your cum from the last round as lube for the next.

He will want to bruise your insides, and this man will not stop at anything until he’ll get what he wants.

He’s a biter and will leave marks anywhere he can, neck, collarbone, top of your breasts, thighs, etc..

He growls into your shoulder while biting you.

He’s a hair puller, whenever he’s angry/in a more unforgiving mood, he’ll make you take it from the back. It doesn’t matter if you’re facing the mirror, against the wall, on the bed, if he needs release, he’ll use you.

Also will sometimes pull out a knife, he likes seeing you shudder/fear flash across your face.

He’d never hurt you, he just gets off to the fact of you shivering and begging for his mercy.

Likes to embarrass you like this. He has something about being in authority, he likes knowing he has power and will taunt you. Sometimes it links to his past and how weak he was, so he likes to show you who’s boss in bed.

Will bruise you, grab your cheeks, humiliate you.

Before everything, he will establish a safe word. He knows that sometimes he can become feral/uncontrollable, so he’ll develop a safe word.

“You take me so well,”

“Look at you, such a fuckin’ whore.”

“What would your comrades think?”

After care.

When he’s in a more gentle mood, he’ll apologise whether he was being gentle or rough. He always thinks he’s hurt you in some way, but he’s not much of a cuddle-bunny after. He likes to show his affection through acts of service/will order your favourite food and run you a bath.

He’ll ask you a lot.

“Anything else you want?”

He seems quite awkward and stiff after, like he’s realised what he’s done and how intimate he’s been with you.

He’s not regretful, per se, maybe embarrassed.

He will be gentle/carry you around if you need his help.

He’ll get you into a change of clothes, but those clothes will always be his. He likes seeing you in his clothes.

He dries you, and after an hour of contemplating his thoughts and coming to terms with things, he’ll be a lot more needy of your affection + attention.

While you’re eating he’ll always have an arm around your waist, pulling you closer like he’s seeking your approval.

He’ll cuddle you for the rest of the night.

He just needs an hour to keep to his own space, and you usually respect that and leave him to his own thoughts.

Bonus/kinks.

Definitely loves thigh riding. He likes making you cum just from using his leg, it makes him feel powerful. And I mean come on, look at his thighs, they’re huge.

If he’s feeling uncomfortable or too scared to ask for sex, he’ll suggest it by wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling his head into your neck. He’ll press his crotch against your ass and hope you take the hint.

He takes his work very seriously, so he may act distant around you in fear of someone finding out you’re something special to him.

He’ll definitely act cold to you in front of people, he doesn’t want to put you in danger.

But he can be very protective, so if someone’s trying it on or being rude/threatening you, he will stand behind you and stare at them to make them uncomfortable as possible until they eventually leave.

He definitely has a scent kink. He’s pretty much always away from you, so bringing your clothing to help him sleep/ get off to is something he loves. He especially loved you wearing his clothes so then afterwards they smell of you.

He will come into your room just to inhale you, and it’s obvious that he always sniffs you when he hugs you/is doing something intimate with you.

Mild knife play. He likes being in control and feared, especially since he was weak in the past - it ties into it.

Very difficult to figure out. Some times he’ll

Whenever he gets the chance to jerk off while on a mission, he will always call you with a piece of your clothing. He’ll get off just to your voice/thrusts up into his hand a lot.

He won’t be sly about it, he’ll be grunting quietly and breathing down the phone heavily.

Mix of sad/funny Head-cannons.

Stubbed his toe one a wall once and then punched a hole through it.

Sometimes he’s either really closed off or really affectionate, when you’re surprised at his affection it really upsets him since he wants to treat you with nothing but love, but sometimes his past prevents his affection to shine through properly.

Despite being a huge guy - he loves being a little spoon.

He doesn’t sleep really unless you’re around him. It’s a sense of vulnerability that only you’re allowed to be exposed to.

He really cares about his mask. Some days it’s so bad he won’t even take it off around you.

Appreciates kisses through his mask, it shows him you love him despite covering his face.

First person to see him cry was you.

Feels like he doesn’t deserve your attention and will be really upset for periods of time. He loves it when you show him affection because it proves that you don’t find him intimidating or scary (part of the reason he hides his face from you.)

He’s very unpredictable. He constantly seconds guesses things, always asks you if he’s annoying: “is it fine if I do this?” “Tell me if you don’t care.” “I said too much sorry, you probably find my stories boring.”

He doesn’t realise how much you love him and could listen to him for hours.

Turns to bad habits like smoking and drinking, you have to help him through a lot of difficult times.

Sometimes he’ll have a smoke after you have sex to try calm his mind. He has severe addiction problems.

First time dating he had severe panic attacks and wouldn’t touch you for days.

Has the worst nightmares/can snap at you easily.

He loves listening to your heartbeat, it calms him. He’s so obsessed with the fact you’re alive and the only person who he thinks cares about him. He wants to memorise every detail of you.

Sometimes he has no common sense whatsoever despite being such a brutal killer.

Definitely sassy/rolls his eyes a lot through his mask.

When this man laughs (which is rarely) he will BELLY laugh. He has the most contagious one out of everyone. Even the thought of it gets you laughing.

The most loudest snores you could ever hear. Like dad snores/shaking the bed snores. He snores so loud he always scares himself awake.

Obsessed with tea.

Really gullible with the stupidest things and definitely doesn’t get social cues.

Doesn’t humour anyone. He hardly ever gets jokes/takes literal hours for a deep explanation until he finally gets it. But he has the worst dad jokes ever.

Nobody tries to pull the, “who asked” card because the last time someone said that, he beat the shit out of them so hard they had to get stitches.

Really straightforward and blunt with his friends. “Does these shoes look nice?” “No, they’re fucking awful.”

—————————————

Hope you guys enjoyed these! Any suggestions for a next one? Also here’s a link to my Tiktok! Things will be posted there too.

[raccozan]

Idk where to post with Twitter burning and me being afraid of posting cod art on Instagram because most of my followers followed me for Eddsworld 😭

[multific]

When He Comes Home Late for Date Night - Modern Warfare Men Preferences

Modern Warfare Men x Fem!Reader

John Price

John looked at his watch before letting out a sigh.

He was late. Terribly late, and yet he was still determined.

He arrived at his home, opening and closing the door before walking straight into the living room.

There, he found you sitting on the couch eating some snacks as you watched a movie.

"John! Welcome home!" you said before turning back to the movie on TV.

John stood there, stunned.

Tonight was supposed to be date night, and he was late, he was expecting to find you fuming, but you looked calm.

Unless this was a new technique.

"Hi, Darling."

"How was work?" you asked, not looking at him.

"The usual."

"I put your food in the fridge." John walked to the kitchen opening the fridge slowly, as if expecting it to explode, but nothing happened.

He pulled out the plate and re-heat the food. Smelling it.

Could it be poisoned? No, you wouldn't go that far... or would you? 

But John found the food to be delicious. He sat at the table when you joined him, opening a beer for him as you drank some water.

"Did something happen?" you asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You are usually late when something happened...another bad guy?" John let out a sigh.

"Guess you can say that. I kind of expected for you to..."

"Flip out?" you laughed as he nodded. "Well, no point in doing that, I know you couldn't do anything about it, if you are busy, it is what it is unfortunately. We will have a date when the time is right."

"You are an angel." he smiled as he finished his plate.

Even when you met, John knew he won the lottery with you. 

Simon Riley

Simon opened the door fearfully, he feared no man, but the anger of his wife was greater than any terrorist he could ever face.

After about five more minutes he opened the door only to find the house completely silent.

Your dog rushed to him, excited to see his other owner home but other than that, nothing.

"Where's your mother?" Simon asked the German Shepperd who excitedly ran off into the house. Simon headed to the kitchen for a drink and found a note on the fridge.

'Simon,

I had a feeling you would be late, I bet you were scared shitless that I would be angry. These things happen, please don't worry. 

I made you food, it's in the fridge if you want it.

I'm off to sleep now, because I am a grandma and I need my beauty sleep.

Love ya,

Your Wifey'

Simon smiled at the note before heading into the bedroom, he found you there on the bed, sleeping soundly.

He placed a kiss to your temple before he headed for a quick shower.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny knew this wasn't good. He was supposed to be home, hours ago! He jumped out of his car and rushed into the house.

He could hear music playing somewhere in the house.

"Bonnie?"

"Bath." came a simple reply.

Johnny almost doubled over when he arrived in the bathroom. Scented candles were lit, the tub filled with water which he can only assume you put at least two bathbombs, your hair was pulled back in a bun, in one hand a glass of wine in the other your favourite book.

"Good to see you Johnny." you said sipping your wine. "I decided since you were late to turn date-night into me-night." you said before you turned back to your book.

"Bonnie, it's almost 1am."

"And? I don't have work tomorrow or should I say, today?"

"Are you not... angry?"

"Why would I be? I know your line of work, when you were an hour late, I ordered some pizza and done some skin care. It's not your fault that Captain Price likes to talk about every little detail months before a mission. Be a darling and pour me some more wine please?" 

Johnny was truly stunned. He grabbed the bottle, noting how it was half empty before he poured you some. 

"Did you say pizza? Do we have some left?"

"On the counter. Be quick because I'm almost done here, I believe you have some apologizing to do."

"Apologize? You said you are not angry."

"I'm not, but I thought it would be the perfect ending for my perfect night."

"Alright, Bonnie." he quickly kissed your cheek before he disappeared down the hallway. 

Kyle Garrick

Kyle was sure he was a dead man.

No way he is going to survive this. He was ready to lose everything.

The last time he arrived home late, he barely made it out alive with you being pregnant at the time, your hormones were crazy.

So, again, he prepared for the worst.

With your daughter seven months old, she slept through the nights. You and Kyle decided to have a quiet night and once she was asleep, you would have a nice date in the kitchen.

But of course, his job had other ideas.

Kyle entered his home quietly but it was anything but quiet inside.

He could hear the cries coming from upstairs.

He rushed up the stairs and soon found you in the hallway, pacing, trying to calm your little one.

"She just has been crying for hours now, I don't know what to do." you said as Kyle got her from your hands and placed her on his chest, slowly bouncing her.

She almost immediately calmed down and fell asleep.

"Thank you. She must have been missing you." you said as you let out a sigh, blessed silence. 

"You said she cried for hours?"

"I assume hours, I am partially deaf to my left ear now." you giggled as Kyle smiled.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"Oh, I didn't even notice the time!" you looked at the clock on the wall. "I didn't even cook, all we have are leftovers."

"Leftovers will be perfect, let me put the little Princess down." Kyle gave you a quick kiss before he went to the nursery and put his daughter to sleep. With one last kiss to her forehead, Kyle turned her night lamp on before leaving the room. 

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro hated to be late.

He was always a very punctual person.

But these things can unfortunately happen.

But he still hated it.

He wanted to go home early and spend the night with you since his mother had your children for the weekend.

Alejandro just didn't expect to get called in on a Saturday.

He was rather angry with himself but when he found you on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and soft drinks, his anger turned to confusion.

"Mi Amor?"

"Welcome home! I was a bit... hungry."

"I can see. Five pizza?"

"I also have ice cream and...brownies."

"The last time you ate this much was when you were pregnant." Alejandro giggled but you stayed too quiet so he also froze in his place. "Are-Are you?"

"Surprise?"

"DIOS MIO!"

"I wanted to tell you during dinner but then you were late and I got hungry! Sorry. I had it all planned too!"

"My Goddess! Three?! Are we about to have three children? I am going to be a dad again?!"

Alejandro watched you pull out an envelope and you handed it to him.

He opened and it is a paper he had seen in his life before, twice.

"You are pregnant... six weeks." he looked up at you.

"Yes. And I craved pizza, I saw they had one with fish then I saw the pepperoni and the corn and by the time I knew I had ordered five... I ordered so much they gave me free drinks and ice cream. Are you happy?"

"About the baby or the pizza?"

"...both?" He rushed to give you a hug.

"I am thrilled! I thought you would skin me for being late and here you are, My Angel, perfect, with pizza and pregnant! I couldn't ask for more." you smiled at him as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Soon, you both sat down as you ate all five of the pizza and watched movies.

Maybe being late wasn't such a bad thing.

König

König was ready for the worst.

He didn’t meant for his training to go on for so long. He lost track of time once he was practicing his shooting.

With a rose bouquet in his hand he entered the house, scared of what he might find inside.

He was prepared for you being angry, he was prepared for you punching him.

What he wasn’t prepared for is you sleeping soundly with your cat cuddled up to your side. 

He took a step forward only to check on you and the floor made a noise under his weight.

It woke you up a little.

“Liebling, it’s only me.”

“Ah, okay, baby. Long day?” you asked, not even opening your eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright, shower and cuddle.” you said before you turned back, ready to sleep once more.

König did exactly as you said, he showered and soon joined you. 

“Are you not angry with me?” he asked as you moved to sleep on his chest.

“No. I kinda forgot that today was supposed to be date night. I went shopping and came home late.”

He only nodded. At least you weren’t waiting for him.

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