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wombywoo · 2 months

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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?

boy do I....

I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...

These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~

Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3

Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3

bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!

The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3

Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3

come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3

in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3

Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3

I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~

#asks #fic rec #I've never actually done a fic rec list like this before...#a small glimpse into my nightly routine of browsing the ao3 trenches for something remotely readable 🫡#funny how most of these are Ghost centric...#I'm *very* particular on how I prefer Soap to be portrayed and wooo boy...is it a struggle 😔

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writingfromasgard · 20 days

Text

Manspreading [Ghost]

My blog is a 18+, minors be blocked regardless of what they interact with.

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open || GIF by hollow-epitaph

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, unedited writing

At the best of times, Simon "Ghost" Riley is like an old cat; finicky and reclusive. In the moments he isn't, where he craves your touch and can't seem to stand an inch of air between you two, he crowds you. He has his hands resting on your waist, chin resting on your shoulder while he watches you type away on your keyboard.

"Y'work too much, love."

You pause your typing to kiss his cheek, nearly finished with what you were working on. You know he wants your full attention right now but these changes are due by tomorrow afternoon and if you finish now, you can spend the rest of the night and part of tomorrow giving him what he wants. His hands squeeze down on your hips, a kiss pressed to your clothed shoulder.

Simon could be patient. He's waited days before in the same sniper position to get off a shot. He would distract himself like he was now, pressing his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. Kissing whatever his lips could reach, fingers squeezing as he pleased. You're concentration didn't suffer any as long as he behaved.. a relative term as far he was concerned.

His hand snuck up your shirt, and a quick hug was all he wanted. You let him until his hand crept up your ribs. You pushed his hand back down to your hip with a firm squeeze.

"C'mon. I was only givin' you a hug." He says, nuzzling the back of your neck.

"Your hand was going higher than necessary for a hug, Simon."

Your fingers tap away, focus narrowing on the screen. It doesn't take long for his hand to slide down the top of your thigh, slowly guiding your legs apart. He buries his face in your neck, pressing feather-like kisses so as to not disturb you. With both hands on your thighs, he squeezes them, groaning in your ear. You stiffen on his lap, fingers freezing over the keys. You can feel the thickening bulge under you and sigh, saving your changes to close out the edits.

Your palms push against the edge of your desk, sliding the shared chair back from it. His drags you back down when you attempt to stand from his lap, grinding up against you slightly.

"I'm not fucking you in my office chair again." You peel off his hands, standing again.

"That so?" He gruffs, the tone in his voice unsettles you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, dread spreading in your stomach. You try your best not to flail, worried you'll damage your computer, when he hauls you with him. He tosses you slightly and you're bent over his shoulder now as he trots to the bedroom. You scream when he throws you on the bed, bouncing on the plush mattress. Your eyes are wide as he rolls his neck, eyes narrowed on your jostled form.

It's not often he's rough with you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, jerking them down your legs hastily. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you by your knees. He licks over the front of his teeth, tilting his head. You feel more like a small animal as his belt jingles.

Simon draws his cock out, spitting on his palm to pump along the hardening length. His other hand sinks into the bed next to your hip as he leans forward, tip swiping over your slick folds. He teases your entrance, pushing the tip inside, stretching you around the fat head. His hands shift once he's done teasing, gripping your hips; a warning of what's to come.

You arch up off the bed, choking on the air leaving your lungs, as his hips snap forward. "Simon!"

"I know, love. You're struggling to handle it like you always do." He laughs low and rough, drawing his hips backward.

Your legs cling to his waist, hands reaching for his shoulders, preparing for his next thrust. He plunges inside again, shifting to press his body weight on you while pistoning unforgivingly into your body. The bed creaks under his movements, your body jolting with each thrust he gave you. You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his bicep.

His groan is deep, right up against your ear, "Body was made f'me. Be a good girl and fuckin' take it."

His arms dig between the mattress and your body, using it to drag you down to meet his hips. His face buried in your neck, the slick sounds of his cock plunging into you filling the room. The muscles in your stomach clench, his name starting to leave your throat hoarse from how loud you were being.

You can hear him encouraging you, complimenting how well you're able to handle him when he's like this. Sweat dampens the sheets underneath you, the air growing a little too hot, his guttural growls dragging you closer to the edge.

"Simon, please!" Your voice shaking as the intensity builds.

Simon's fingers dig into your skin, leaving an painful ache. "You gonna cum f'me? Gonna squeeze down on my cock so i can paint your insides?"

He grinds his cock into you, that fat head of his cock nudging the perfect spot inside you. Tension snaps in your body, a wave of bliss that's almost as painful as it is pleasurable hitting your cock-drunk brain.

His hips lose their rhythm until he stops thrusting all together, sinking deep into your warmth with a strangled groan of your name. You feel a bit more weight on top of your body, hot breath hitting your ear. It's several moments before he's able to unwrap himself from you, gently pushing your legs to unhook from his waist.

Simon rolls off, laying beside you with his breathing evening out slowly. He clears his throat, opening it to speak, "Bloody hell, we're going to get another noise complaint."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost x you

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greatstormcat · 5 months

Text

Of Wolf And Man - Part 2

Poly TF141 x f!reader

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, monster fucking, oral f!receiving, masturbation, animal injury

AN: sorry it’s so big, this one is writing itself and I can’t stop it!

Summer

Spring rolled on into summer, and the cottage became more and more your own. Hints of Annie still remained around the place, such as her old besom over the doorway and her herb books on the kitchen shelves. Most importantly, her blanket kept its spot on the back of the sofa, and you wrapped yourself in it every night since you moved in, as though she were there hugging you still.

You even found an old silver necklace you remember your mother giving her one birthday, but never saw her wear it. It was hanging on a nail beside the old dresser in the bedroom, and you couldn’t understand why she never wore it if she liked having it around. It wasn’t the oddest thing about the old girl, but it stood out now.

You also became fond of your wolves. You don’t know when you began thinking of them as your wolves, but you began to start listening for them. The days you didn’t so much as hear them left you feeling like a part of you was missing somehow. You paid attention to the little symbols in your almanack more than usual, taking note of when the full moon was, hoping the weather would be good enough to sit out on the bench outside and maybe see them again. When the full moon shone they were a lot louder, came closer to the cottage, and you’d see them play fighting. The larger two almost always won, of course. There were also times you spotted them laying on the hillock on the far side of the meadow, sunning themselves and watching the cottage. Watching you it almost seemed.

Your thoughts also dwell on your evening with Johnny, and how he had been so close to kissing you. He hadn’t turned up on your doorstep again after that, but neither had he made any show of avoiding you when you saw him in town. In fact, his excuses for finding a reason to touch you or brush against you in the supermarket became thinner and more obvious. What was surprising though was the way the other three reacted to his actions. If Johnny touched your hip walking past you, Kyle would bump against you on the other side and then touch your arm to apologise. When you’d needed logs loading into your car for your wood burner, Price and Simon insisted on helping and you found yourself wedged between them both for a split second more than once. You’d find yourself going home with the faintest scent of them on your clothes, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a comforting smell, one your bury your face into your jacket to breath in later on, when you were alone.

On one occasion you’d got into a heated conversation, not quite an argument, with a woman who accused you of damaging her car in the carpark, which you absolutely had not done. Out of nowhere the four men had appeared behind you asking what the problem was in a way that made it clear, there was no problem happening while they were around. The woman had quickly backed down and conceded the dent was there already. Whatever was going on with them, you did nothing to discourage them, even if it left you feeling a little ashamed of yourself.

It was a common thing to lie out on your bed, the windows of the cottage open to allow the cool breeze through while you moaned, stuffing your aching pussy with your fingers and imagining it was one of them, or more than one, or all of them. You never paid any mind to how loud you were when you came, and how the sound carried into the trees, or who was listening with keen ears.

As the weather warms you decide a longer walk up into the hills was well overdue, maybe you’d even find where Johnny and the others lived finally. You’d asked about them in town after your evening with Johnny and found that people respected the hell out of the group of men, despite them being almost total recluses. They visited town even less often than you did, but had lived in their hidden home for as long as anyone could remember. They were almost revered by the local people, as much as the wolves.

As you walk along the trail, lost in your thoughts, you stumble to a halt when one of your wolves comes into view around a rocky outcrop. The animal is huge, bigger than you’d have ever expected a wolf to be having only seen them on TV or online. Its eyes lock onto yours and its teeth bare in a snarl that turns your innards to water. You freeze, too scared to move and wait to see if it’s going to attack, heart pumping at a painful rate in your chest.

That’s when you spot the metal device clamped around one of its front legs, and a frown creases your forehead in disgust.

“You’re trapped,” you say with genuine concern, and realise you're relatively safe. The animal has a tawny brown coat, with a darker stripe of thicker, shaggy fur running between its ears. After a few minutes of staring at each other, you decide you cannot leave the animal trapped like this, and you begin to edge closer.

There’s a noise above you on the rocks, a rustle of twigs, and you look up into the face of a second, even larger wolf. This one’s fur is much darker apart from silvery markings around the eyes and muzzle. It's dark eyes watch you unblinkingly as you pause in your movements towards the trapped animal before you.

“Look, don’t kill me, okay? I’m trying to help,” you babble, aware they can’t understand you but it helps control your nerves to talk out loud. The second wolf hangs back, pacing slowly but appearing content to keep its distance for now. You get down low on your hands and knees to look as unthreatening as possible, edging closer to the trapped animal but ready to roll out of the way if it lunges for you. You pay no mind to the soil and mud getting onto you jeans and hands, too focused on the huge beast infront of you.

Thankfully it doesn’t move as you get closer, and you manage to grasp the jaws of the trap in your bare hands. You pull with all your strength, straining every muscle you have with the effort needed, the metal biting into your skin painfully, hands and arms trembling as you force open the steel trap, hoping the wolf isn’t going to maul you the second it's free. You keep your head down while you pull until the feel of the animal brushing past you lets you know it's out and you let go of the mechanism, a terrifying, metallic snapping sound echoing through the trees as it shuts.

The wolf doesn’t run away though, worst still, the other one lopes over to join its friend beside you. Carefully, gently you lower yourself onto your belly hoping to look as pathetic and not worth eating as possible, your face mushed against the dirt and leaf mould on the forest floor. You’re now lying on the ground with the two huge, wild wolves standing over you, and you screw your eyes shut as they sniff at your coat and boots, trying to hold your breath. A cold nose presses inside the collar of your coat, pressing against your neck and you whimper in terror as it snuffles against you, waiting for teeth to follow the questing nose. It seems a fitting end that you’d get mauled to death helping a wild animal

You risk looking back over your shoulder and see it's the smaller of the two wolves that is sniffing at your neck, the larger one has moved back and is sitting on its haunches, watching you carefully with its head tilted slightly to one side. The smaller wolf makes a soft noise, almost a whine, and you feel the tip of its tongue touch your neck making you shudder and shut your eyes again. Your lungs begin to burn as you try not to breath too loudly, fighting against the racing of your heart. A paw starts to scratch and pull at the back of your thin jacket, as though trying to get you to turn over. The larger one barks, and the hot, wet tongue pulls away from your neck, and you watch as they bound away into the trees together, the smaller one barely limping from the injury.

You count to a hundred before you decide it's safe enough to get up off the floor, and your legs shake like mad when you stand up, your head spinning slightly. It's hard to believe what just happened and you gather your things up off the floor where you’d dropped them, before heading back to the cottage as quickly as possible.

The weekly trip into town comes around, and you find yourself thinking constantly about the encounter with the two wolves. You had taken it upon yourself to look for any more of those horrible traps and set them off with a tree branch to avoid any more animals getting injured.

“Do people still hunt wolves around here? I thought that was banned years ago,” you ask the lady in the supermarket, and she wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“It is banned, but it’s always been frowned on around here anyway,” she explains. “It's said to be bad luck to hunt the wolves around here, bad stuff happens if you do. But it doesn’t stop everyone, people still come in and try to get the big ones you see in the forest.”

“I saw one caught in a trap the other day,” you tell her as you pick up your bags of shopping. “I actually helped it escape. Poor thing.”

“Well, you’re due some good luck then if the stories are true. Maybe it was a werewolf, there are plenty of stories about them from years gone by.” She grins at you as you carry your stuff outside and you laugh to yourself about the idea of werewolves roaming around the countryside. Like clockwork you see Johnny and the others as you head to your car, almost as though they were purposefully timing their own visits with yours now. You notice he has a bandage wrapped tightly around his wrist as they approach, and the eyes of Simon are watching you intently.

“What happened to you?” to ask with concern as the group approaches, something tickling in the back of your mind as you speak.

“Nothing serious,” Johnny says, waving the bandaged arm in front of him as if he had just noticed it. “Be right as rain in a day or two thanks to a friend helping me out.”

Without thinking you reach out and grasp the bandaged hand, turning it gently in your hands. You don’t notice that they all freeze as you do this, circled around you as you check the wrapping, until you look up into Johnny’s face and see his eyebrows raised and a silly little smile on his face. You let go of his hand with a softly mumbled apology, heat creeping up your chest and neck in embarrassment at crossing a boundary like that.

“Speaking of which,” Kyle says, clearing his throat to break the sudden tension, “we thought we’d offer to help fix up the cottage.”

“Really?” You ask with genuine surprise at their gesture. “You don’t have to but that would be really kind.”

“It’s no problem,” Simon adds. “It’s the least we can do.”

The following day the four men appear on the doorstep after breakfast as promised, toolkits getting unloaded from the back of the beat up old truck. They set to telling you what needs doing and dividing the labour between them while you work on the vegetable garden. It’s another hot day, and it’s not long before they forego their shirts, sweating in the sunshine. You can’t help but sit back on your heels and watch them as they work with skill and precision repairing the thatch and stonework.

You find yourself watching Simon as he repairs a damaged section of the thatch on the roof, the series of scars on his back shining in the bright sunlight. The marks looks so much like bites and claw marks you almost wonder if he has been attacked by a wild animal at some point. You shake your head and try to distract yourself from staring rudely by making lunch inside.

“How do you guys know how to do this stuff? I’d assumed I was going to have to spend a fortune on getting people in to do this,” you ask over lunch. You spread a hearty lunch out on the kitchen table where it’s cooler, thanks to the thick stone walls of the house, and the four men devour it happily. They fill the space, Simon having to stoop his head down to get through any of the doorways in the cottage, but they look perfectly at home and clearly know their way around the place.

“We’ve picked up some skills over the years,” Kyle explains. “We’ve lived around here a long time and it isn’t hard to learn when you’re doing things. We’d been telling Annie for ages these jobs needed doing but she was too stubborn to let us do them for her.”

“Still, it’s impressive that you can help like this. Your place must be quite something if you’re all as good as this with your hands.”

“You should come visit,” Johnny chips in with a glance at Price, as though asking his permission, and the bearded man nods.

“Yeah, I’d say we can arrange for you to come up to our place pretty soon,” he smiles. “How about tomorrow we meet you up the trail a bit and we’ll show you the way up?”

“Sound perfect,” you agree, excited to finally see where these men live.

“Fine, tomorrow afternoon then,” he declares to a series of nods from the others.

Price explains where to meet them, and its a little way up the trail from the cottage, where a small river cuts through the hills creating a steep but beautiful rocky gully. The walk is just as gorgeous as he said as you make your way along the track the next day. The drop to the river is steeper than you’d expected, but it only adds to the view.

As you amble through the forest you hear voices in the trees ahead, but not the ones you had expected. At least one of them is female and something makes you slow down as you walk, not wanting them to know you are here. As you near them, you drop low and watch, your stomach churning when you realise who they are. Poachers.

“Don’t put them too low in the ditch, they won’t walk down there. They’ll jump over it, so put it where you’ll think they’ll land,” the woman is explaining to the guy with her as he sets another steel trap on the ground ahead. “That way it’ll snap its ankle and it can’t get away.”

Fury rises in you and you march forward to confront them, forgetting you are alone as your anger takes over.

“Hey!” You shout, brandishing your stick like a club. “You shouldn’t be doing that, get out of here.” They stop and stare in confusion for a moment before looking at each other.

“What are you going to do about it?” The woman asks offhandedly.

“This is my land, you need to get off it before I report you for trespassing.” You try to sound menacing, aware it isn’t really working. The man drops the steel trap he is holding with a loud clang, and you flinch slightly. With a grim expression he walks towards you, and you hold the tree branch up in front of you.

“Don't come any closer,” you warn him. He lunges at you grabbing at your arm and twisting it so you drop your stick and you yelp loudly in pain, trying to kick him in the leg to hurt him. He’s stronger than you and soon twists you around, beginning to force you to the ground.

A growl cuts through the air and your assailant is knocked sideways with a shriek of terror. Barks and snapping jaws ring through the trees as your four furry favourites attack the poachers, sending them yelling and running through along the path and away from you.

Panicked you try to run to avoid being bitten, feet slipping on the loose ground and you tumble forward over the edge of the steep bank, managing at the last moment to grasp a tree root before you fall down to the river below. Winded you look up and see the wolves looking down at you, bright sunlight coming through the leaves above.

“Shit,” you whimper, staring up at their furry faces, realising you’re trapped. One of the larger ones walks out of sight, leaving the others staring down at you. Your grip slips and you risk looking down at the rocks and water below, trying to work out how to fall to cause the least amount of damage to yourself

“Need a hand, love?” A deep voice calls out and you look up to see a hand reaching down for you and above it, Price’s bearded handsome face.

“Yes, but watch out for the wolves!” You cry out as you take his hand and you’re pulled up as though you weigh nothing. As you reach solid ground you slump down and then blink up at him, your mind racing frantically and your heart pounding in your ears. He crouches down beside you and you suddenly focus enough to realise he is shirtless. A further glance shows him to be completely without any clothes at all.

“Um, why are you naked?” You ask weakly and avert your eyes as your face heats up, which is when you realise the three wolves are still here, looking at you. You scramble away with a scream, nearly off the edge again.

“Woah! Hang on there,” Price shouts trying to grab you but you try to avoid him, not wanting to be held by a naked weirdo walking in the forest. “Ah fuck it, show her lads,” he grunts as he backs off and you sit precariously and trembling at the edge of the drop again.

“What?! Show me what?! Who are you talking to?!” You scream hysterically at him not knowing who to be more afraid of.

Then the three wolves begin to change, standing up on their hind legs in a smooth motion as though somewhere an animator had used a special effect on the world in front of you. Fur recedes, ears change position and within seconds three half man, half wolf figures stand before you. Each with pointed ears, wickedly clawed hands and feet, and fur dusted, thickly muscled limbs.

Your skin goes cold with shock, and your mouth opens and closes wordlessly as you gawp, until your brain registers that you are looking at Kyle, Simon and Johnny.

“You okay, lass?” Johnny asks, crouching down next to you and giving you a broad grin showing his very long, sharp incisors as his tail slowly wags against the ground behind him.

“Fuck…” you whisper before you pass out.

You surface from your blackout state slowly, feeling yourself being jostled about then laying still again. A comforting smell fills your nostrils, a familiar one that relaxes your muscles, instilling a sense of safety in you as you come to. A hand runs across your forehead in a gentle gesture and you blink open your eyes, looking up into Price’s concerned face.

“Thought we’d lost you for a moment,” he says with obvious relief and helps you to sit up.

Price is wearing faded jeans now but no top, exposing his thickly haired chest. You look up and see Johnny and Kyle sat together on a sofa across the room from you, although sprawled may be a better word. Both shirtless wearing loose sweatpants and bare feet. Kyle is resting back against Johnny’s chest, his leg hooked around the other man’s shin.

The room is cosy, slightly untidy with clothes draped over the end of the sofa you have been lying on but clean and comfortably furnished much like your cottage.

“Where…. Oh bloody hell!” You squeal as Simon walks in wearing nothing at all, slamming your hands over your face to cover your eyes.

“Simon, put some fucking clothes on,” Price barks angrily, “you’re not helping the situation!”

“It’s our house, our rules,” Simon replies as you peer between your fingers, making no move to cover himself as he sits in one of the armchairs, manspreading flagrantly until Price hurls a pair of jeans at him with more force than necessary. With a sullen grumble Simon pulls them on without underwear, maintaining eye contact with you as he adjusts himself behind the button fly before sitting down again with a smirk.

“Look, I know this is a shock,” Price continues in a calming tone. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” you reply slowly, dropping your hands into your lap. “Just explain to me what is going on, because I don’t know if I’m losing my mind or have a concussion right now.”

Price huffs out a small laugh, watching as you look around, taking in the room around you. You’re sitting on a brown leather sofa, rustic furnishings and a certain man only decor abounds.

“Well, you’re in our… den,” he says, carefully weighing up how to phrase it.

“Den? Like a wolf den?” You ask.

“To be more precise, a werewolf den.” He keeps watching you, and you feel the similarity to the way the wolves in the forest have been watching you since you moved into the cottage. Gears turn in your brain, and things begin to fit together.

“Oh… its you guys… its always been you four, hasn’t it? The four wolves I mean?” You say, wide eyed with understanding. “So who did I free from the trap?”

Johnny raises his hand from where he is lounging with Kyle on the other sofa.

“That was Johnny,” Simon confirms. “I was with him and watched you do it. Pretty fuckin’ brave if you ask me.” Pride fills his words and a small smile touches his scarred face. Obviously risking your life like that for what you had assumed was a wild animal earned you their respect. “I was about to free him until you turned up and took over.”

“Yeah, Simon told us about that. You didn’t hesitate even though you didn’t realise you were perfectly safe,” Price nods, echoing Simon’s words.

“You’re all werewolves?” You ask, testing the word on your tongue cautiously.

“We’re a pack, bonded together now until death. We take care of each other and protect each other. We did so for Annie as well,” Price says with a grin.

“Wait, you mean….” Questions vie for attention in your head: how long have they lived here, how old are they, did your aunt know…

“We miss her, she was a hell of a woman,” Simon says wistfully. “A demon in the sack too.”

“Oh my gods you were shagging Annie?!” You gasp, and Simon chuckles wickedly.

“So, how old are you guys?”

“It’s hard to keep track after a while,” Price answers, scratching his chin. “I stopped counting after about two hundred.”

“You’re taking the piss,” you say, finding it too much to believe.

Kyle chuckles, disentangling himself from Johnny stalking closer to you. As he nears you his features change slowly, his ears lengthening and tufting with fur which spreads across his shoulders. His hands curl, claws tipping his thick fingers and his low slung sweatpants allow a thick tail to unfurl behind him.

“You sure about that, love?” He growls as he gets closer, and your heart rattles inside your ribcage. It’s not from fear though, you feel completely safe, they’ve been protecting you for months, looking after you and marking you as the airs, and even brought you to safety after you fainted. There’s a completely different reason for your pulse to be thundering like this, and you know why. After having fantasised about them for this long, you now know they want you the way you want them.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Johnny groans and leans forward on the edge of his seat suddenly. “You smell that?”

“What?” You ask quietly, not taking your eyes of Kyle as he leans over Price’s shoulder. The liquid heat curling in your abdomen gets harder to ignore as he looms over you, and blossoms suddenly into an inferno when Price’s hand grips your thigh and squeezes.

“He means you,” Kyle says, placing one knee beside you on the seat and bends himself down to run his nose along your neck. “We can smell that you just got very, very turned on.”

You squirm in you seat, thighs pressing together as you look around you at the four huge men… no, not men… beasts.

“Fuckin’ hell, if she smells that good how’s she gonna taste?” Simon rumbles, palming the front of his jeans and looking uncomfortable in the harsh fabric.

“Steady lads,” Price growls, “let’s not scare her off, and absolutely not risk hurting her.” You notice they have all altered slightly like Kyle, as though their arousal has affected their ability to stay perfectly human, and they take on most wolf like characteristics once more.

“It’s okay,” you murmur to Price, placing your hand over his and he squeezes your thigh again, making you gasp softly while Kyle still nuzzles at your neck sensing you into a boneless state. Price chuckles, watching you soften.

“You trust us?” He asks and you nod, swallowing thickly when the tip of Kyle’s tongue runs along the column of your throat. “Good, we’ll take care of you. No need to stuff that pretty pussy with your fingers now to make yourself come, we’ll take care of that.” Kyle runs his hand up the front of your shirt and cups one of your breasts, a moan leaving his throat.

“Let’s take it easy for now, we’re gonna make you come on our tongues for today, get you used to us. You okay with that?” You nod again and whimper as Kyle pinches a nipple through your clothes. With your consent given, Price stands and tugs you away from Kyle who growls angrily at his prize being snatched away, but Price pays him no attention as he crushes your lips to his, one hand pressing your hips against his to grind you against his hard cock.

While you’re attention is focused on the kiss, Kyle gets up and presses his chest to your back, his hands skimming down your sides and around your middle to undo the zip to your jeans. With care he strips you bare while Price explores your mouth, and then kisses along your jawline, nipping with sharp teeth at the tender flesh of your neck.

Once you are stripped, he presses you back down against the sofa and me kneels on the floor, pushing your legs apart with his clawed hands, his human face barely recognisable as his instincts take over. His broad tongue runs up the inside of your thigh, sending shivers down your spine that flood your pussy with a fresh wave of heat as he looks up at you.

The first touch of his lips to your naked cunt makes your hips buck, and a collective growl of approval rumbles around the pack. Price licks at the seam of your pussy and your mind unravels, the hot, soft muscle slipping perfectly between your folds and flicking at your clit. You can’t hold in the whine that forms in your throat, and it’s all he needs to begin to devour you in earnest.

Sharp claws pressing into your soft thighs, pulling you against his face, his wide tongue curling and lapping inside your cunt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your legs shake with the depth of pleasure you feel, the sharp points of his teeth only adding to the intoxication of it all.

Kyle and Johnny position themselves either side of you on the sofa, while Simon prowls behind Price, waiting to take his bite of their succulent prize. Johnny kisses you fiercely, like he is starved for your mouth, tongue seeking our yours and wrapping with it. He swallows your moans and whimpers, fueling his desperation as Price fucks you with his tongue.

“Gimme your hand,” Johnny mumbles against your lips, and guides your shaking fingers down his chest and stomach until they bump against his rock hard cock and he hisses. He takes your unresisting hand and wraps the your soft fingers around his shaft, covering it with his own firmly, and begins to rock his hips.

The sensation of Johnny grinding his leaking dick into your hand tightens the hot coil of your orgasm, and your muscles clench around the tongue in your cunt. Price takes his cue and licks mercilessly upwards, shattering you into a thousand pieces as you orgasm, gulping down your juices greedily and drawing out the spasms of your walls.

With a satisfied grunt he sits back, licking his maw and shuffles aside as Simon takes his place, wide shoulders pushing your weakened legs wide before burying his muzzled face into your twitching pussy. Before your eyes roll back into your head you see Price throw back his head, hand grasping his swollen cock and starting to pump feverishly.

Your clit throb as Simon nose bumps and grinds against it, his tongue working deeper and deeper inside you, and his hands shift your thighs up and over his shoulders.

“We’ve been listening to you make yourself come for months,” Kyle whispers into your ear, taking his lead from Johnny and taking your other hand to wrap around own needy length. “It’s about time we showed you how good it can really be.” The two werewolves either knead and pinch at the swells of your breasts as the work themselves in your palms, and Simon growls between your thighs.

By the time you’ve let each of them drive you to orgasm you can barely keep your eyes open and your limbs tremble with fatigue, but you’re floating in the clouds and kissing the heavens. You curl into Simon’s broad chest, panting and spent, while the others clear up around you. The feel of Simon’s heavy hand on your back soothes you, and it’s inevitable that you soon drift to sleep against him.

You wake up feeling better than you have in a long time, warm skin pressing against you on all sides, just a thin blanket needed to cover you over against the chill of the air. You fidget slightly, finding a soft mattress beneath you and find they've moved you to a large bed.

It's dark still, gentle snores fill your ears adding to the peaceful security of the moment, and you roll over to your side, fully intending to go back to sleep. As you shift position a heavyset arm tightens around your middle and pulls you against a solid chest, your head getting tucked under a strong jaw so you settle against his neck. It's hard to tell who it is, and you don’t rightly care. With a soft sigh, you nuzzle against him and go back to dozing.

——————————————————————————————————-

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honeypumpkiin · 2 years

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Just took a bath with a brown recluse.

I was bathing, been in there for like 30 minutes or so, and I turned to my side and it came out from its hiding place from the shampoo bottles and across the edge of the tub, fell in, and I got out to not risk a bite, started draining the tub and he went down the drain :( man never had a chance

#simon says #arachnophobia #2nd brown recluse i found #time to make the house smell like peppermint ig

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dante-mightdie · 26 days

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Well now you’ve started something- our new solitary!viking!simon just treats his pretty new girl as a sort of pet, stemming from his inexperience ofc. I need more, I’m dying.

It’s all i’m thinking about. my brain is rotting over this man.

c/w: suggestive content, smut, nothing graphic

in his brain, you’re his wife. you’re not aware of this at all. the second he found you tied to that tree, that was your wedding ceremony. despite how touchy he was with you, he still had initiated any form of actual intimacy with you

instead he just kept you around, sitting pretty on his bed. he doesn’t speak much despite how many times you try and ask him questions about himself. you find yourself oddly intrigued by him. you want to know how he came to be out here all by himself, littered in scars

his frame is enormously large and proportionate. when he takes you to the river to bathe with him, you see his cock hanging heavy between his legs. sometimes you feel him rutting it against your backside in the morning. he only does it a few times before he stops, never taking it any further

you spent the first few weeks waiting for him to initiate it but he never does. so one night, when he climbs into bed beside you, you manoeuvre your body and plant yourself in his lap. his hands immediately take place on your hips, tugging you forward so you’re chest to chest

he watches you with narrowed eyes, like he’s staring directly into your soul. you keep eye contact with him as you slip your hand under the blankets and trail it up his thigh. he snatches your wrist before it can grip his cock, furrowing his brow at you

you let out a soft gasp at his tight grip. he doesn’t seem upset with you, rather apprehensive. like he doesn’t know what you’re intentions are. so instead of attempting the same thing again, you take his big hand in your own and guide it between your legs, allowing his fingertips to dip inbetween your slick folds. he doesn’t stop you and you feel his fingers twitch against the warmth of your cunt

you lean forward, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. your tongue flicks against the scar running over the corner of his mouth,

“don’t you want me, simon?” you whisper against his lips, “you can have me.”

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader #viking!simon #viking au #recluse!simon

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the-whispers-of-death · 4 months

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I know it's been for a few days, but hear me out: Recluse!Reader officially unofficially moving into Neighbor!Simon's flat.

You two have been spending time together and dating for months and Simon had gotten you to come over to his flat and stay over for at least a couple weeks before he had to leave for deployment. So one day, you come out of his bedroom, clad in only your underwear and his shirt (because why would you need to wear anything else when you don't go out and it's just you and him?) and you see him installing several more locks on the door to his flat. And when you ask him why he's installing more locks, he says it's so you, his beloved, is safe while he's away fighting for the country.

And part of you is like "but I'm not living here" but then you realize his flat is stocked with enough food and water for you to stay there while he's gone, so you don't have to go out and buy groceries (or in your case interact with that delivery man who delivers your groceries)! There's even more food in his flat than in yours, he's well-prepared for you, even better than you are. And as previously mentioned in the first post of Recluse!Reader, Simon's flat is already stocked with your favorite books and dvd collections of your favorite shows! You'd never have to be bored while he's away.

So he just continues to install the locks and you go and make him breakfast, so oblivious to the fact that he's not intending on giving you the keys to said locks, because you're not leaving.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod #desi!reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #recluse!reader #ngl simon is low-key manipulative in these specific reader drabbles #but it's all honestly consensual #you like being able to not leave his flat #:)

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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Can you do like the 141 taskforce+könig crying and not wanting the reader see. But then the reader walks in the room and started to comfort them.

“Could you pass these to Ghost? They need his signature.” You hummed in response taking the folder from Price.

“Sending me to find the grump. Real nice Cap.” You groaned playfully. Price let out a soft chuckle and you could feel the eye roll as you shut the office door behind you.

You were actually looking forward to tracking him down. He’d been different lately. Colder, snippier. At least to you it was unusual. Soap explained to you that’s how Ghost was way before you joined, and it took a lot of work to get the masked man to where he was now- a relatively happy human being. You thought Johnny just wanted some glory, but you were starting to think he was telling the truth.

“Lieu.” You chirped, the large, metal door to the roof creaked and whined as you shut it. You knew you’d find him here. It’s the only place he can smoke. He had his back against the wall, and he quickly put out his cigarette on your arrival. “Don’t have to stop for me.”

“And listen to you fake cough for twenty minutes?” He huffed. You plopped down next to him. His mask rested on his knee, his head facing the opposite direction of where you were.

“Cap wanted you to sign these.” You said, handing the file over. He grabbed it, surprised by how light it was.

“It’s empty.” He swallowed a chuckle.

“What?” You leaned over your shoulder pressing against his. An empty file folder stared back at you. Maybe the papers fell out in the hallway? You hoped it wasn’t confidential.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a Price tactic.” He groaned. “He just wanted to give you a reason to come check on me.” Simon sighed resting his upper face against his palms.

“Why me.” You mumbled.

“Cause he knows I won’t bite your head off.” Simon finally looked over at you a small smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been crying?” You almost gasped, taking in the red blotches across his face. His brows furrowed.

“No.” He spat. “Probably gettin’ sunburnt.”

“It’s okay to cry Lieu.” You pressed. He huffed again.

“I wasn’t crying.” He pressed back.

“I cry.” You commented.

“You think I don’t know that? How many times have you slobbered all over me since we’ve been working together.” The comment made you chuckle. Simon had been your shoulder to cry on during more than one occasion.

“You’re right.” You tsked, resting your head against his shoulder. He tensed but let his body relax. “You know I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to slobber all over me for a change.” You whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezed yours provided more emotion than any of his words could.

It was always a challenging adjustment, going from Captain with thousands of people relying on you to just being John. It didn’t help that his home was a recluse cottage in the English countryside. To most people it was something out of a storybook, to him though- it was a type of prison. It was so quiet- except for birds chirping and the sound of trickling water from a nearby stream. He didn’t deserve such tranquility. It wasn’t a home to him, just a place he could get drunk and sleep it off- maybe cry if he had the energy.

That was until he met you.

When you told him you couldn’t go on leave with him this time he quickly threw himself back into his old habits as soon as he walked through the door of his ‘home.’ You had made it a home. The whole place felt of you. You had turned the dark, run down cottage into a sanctuary, but without you physically there it resembled the prison he was much more familiar with. He grabbed a brand new bottle of scotch from the cabinet, quickly retreating into the bedroom.

Without you there he had no place to hide. Nothing to take his mind off of work. He was just John. Completely useless John.

You hoped he wasn’t upset at you. You had a family emergency and you just thought it would be better if he didn’t come with you. You didn’t need to expose him to that mess. Yet as the phone went to his voicemail for the tenth time you wondered if you had maybe made the wrong call.

“Hey Cap, it’s me, again. Listen I hope you aren’t upset at me, I don’t think you are but”- You cut yourself off. “Call me back please? I should be able to wrap up here in a day or two. Love you.” You hung up with a sigh.

You had kept your promise and the family affair only took another day to sort out.

“Cap!” You yelled, shutting the door behind you. The weather outside was depressing, matching the atmosphere inside. Complete silence. “Cap!” You tried again. You trudge up the narrow steps of the cottage, already having a feeling where he was. The bedroom door was wide open, he was sprawled out on his stomach, his back rising and falling as he slept. You grabbed the empty bottle off the floor, and trudged back down the stairs, starting on dinner. You felt horribly responsible.

He had opened up here and there about how he struggled during leave. You didn’t doubt it. He was always so composed during missions that it only seemed natural for it to all come to a boiling point sometime. A loud shout from upstairs snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped at the sound, your feet making quick work up the stairs.

“Cap?” You asked quietly. You could hear his labored breathing from down the hall. He had flung his legs over the bed his head buried in his hands. The sound of your voice caused his head to snap up. He rubbed at his face, but you caught a few glistening tears.

“I didn’t know you were here.” He offered you a fake smile, trying his best to cover up his embarrassment.

“You alright?” You began to walk towards him but he stood up waving you off.

“Sometimes my mind wanders away from me when I sleep, nothin for you to worry about.” He assured, digging in his closet for a shirt.

“I didn’t know you had nightmares.” You continued, sitting on the edge of his bed. He waved you off again. “I was worried, you know?” You sighed. He rolled his shoulders, joining you on the bed. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“I know it must be hard having everyone rely on you all the time, but you need someone too, John. You deserve a break, you deserve to be happy- actually you deserve it more than anyone I know.” You wrapped your arm up with his, leaning against his shoulder. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken so softly to him. He wondered if anyone ever had spoken to him in this way. It made the last few bricks of his wall crumble and he let a few silent tears roll down his face. Neither of you made any move to wipe them away.

You groaned quietly to yourself as a knock clamored through your room.

“Come in!” You shouted. The door knob made no move to open. You shrugged, reburying yourself under the covers.

Another knock.

“Come in!” You shouted again. The door didn’t even budge.

Another knock.

“Steamin Jesus.” You growled, throwing the covers off of you. You opened the door, only to come face to face with a teary eyed Johnny.

“Bubbles?” You questioned softly. “What happened?” He threw you a smile.

“Nothing.” He denied.

“You’re shaking, Jo.” Your hands rested against his arms.

“Tough workout.” He said quickly.

“That’s also why you’re panting?” You continued. He nodded his head.

“I didn’t even know the gym was open this late- or should I say early.” You hummed looking over at the clock. Your eyes met his again.

“Goodnight.” He said suddenly, opening the door next to yours. He disappeared into his room. You groaned softly, closing the door. You walked back over to your bed, stopping at the door that conjoined your room with his. You didn’t bother to knock as you slowly creaked it open.

Even in the darkness you could find him hiding underneath the bedsheets. His large body took up most of the bed so you just plopped down on top of him. “Jo.” You hummed. Your hand snaked its way under the covers, petting at his hair. “Why’re you sad?”

“Not sad.” He insisted. “Thought you called me so I went to check on you.”

“If you’re going to lie to me I’m not going to cuddle you.” You sighed moving to get up. He acted fast, wrapping you up in his blanket, nuzzling his face between your cheek and the pillow.

“Had a bad dream.” He finally muttered out.

“I understand, that last mission was a rough one.” You soothed scratching up and down his back. He shook his head.

“Wasn’t about work.” He sighed, his grip on you tightening.

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, shamelessly breathing in your scent. “Okay.” You smiled softly. You pulled the sheets up, doing your best to tuck the both of you in. “You never have to feel bad about coming to me, you know. You always take care of me, it’s about time I started repaying the favor.” You spoke, giving him a squeeze. You didn’t mention it when you felt his wet tear roll down your neck.

“Oh, I’m sorry Ky!” You sputtered quickly. He had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Luckily he wasn’t in a compromising position.

“It’s alright.” He said quickly, splashing his face with cold water, praying you didn’t noticed the redness around his eyes.

“You okay.” You asked softly. Of course you noticed. No one could ever get anything past you.

“I’m fine.” He responded curtly. You bit your lip, taking the cue to shut the door. That wasn’t the last time you would see him with a similar appearance.

He had been dodging everyone. The normal life-of-the-party quickly turning into a bad attitude that even made Ghost uncomfortable. He had dark circles under his puffy eyes, and his voice was so hoarse that when he did speak it caused you to wince. It took you a whole day to finally corner him.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” You said, stepping onto the fire escape.

“I don’t.” He responded bluntly, taking another drag. You sighed, grabbing the little white stick before putting it out on a cigar filled ashtray. He scratched at his forehead, leaning back against the cold bars. You sat down next to him, not bothering to say a word. You just stared at him. “What?” He chuckled dryly. It was obvious he was growing uncomfortable under your gaze. “What’s your problem.” He snapped.

“What’s your problem?” You chided back. His face softened.

“Nothin.”

“Knock it off, Ky.” You snipped. He opened his mouth, the edges of his lips curling. He took a deep breath, calming himself. “Why won’t you let anyone help you? Everyone has tried to pry what’s going on out of you but all you’ve done is brush people off. We’re a family, Ky.” Your voice was soft, so soft it sent a shiver down his spine.

“People already don’t take me seriously. The last thing I need is for someone to pin me as a baby.” He muttered through a clenched jaw.

“Ky, no one thinks of you that way.” You gasped, resting your chin against his shoulder. You tangled your arms with his. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Mom’s sick again.” He admitted. “I know she’s taken care of back home but I just wish I could do more.” He quickly wiped a tear that escaped his eye.

“Ky, I’m so sorry.” You whispered, squeezing his arm. “You talk to Cap? I’m sure he’d excuse you.” He quickly shook his head.

“Don’t want any special treatment. Besides she’s kill me if I make a fuss over her, she’s already mad that I’ve been callin her twice a day.” He let out a light chuckle. “She’ll be fine, she always is.”

“You must get your toughness from her, uh?” You smiled.

“I like to think so.” He smirked.

If there was one thing Konig hated most in the world it was room full of loud, drunk, strangers. So when the team demanded they go out to celebrate he quickly declared he had a load of paperwork to do. It wasn’t until he overheard Horangi complement how good you looked in your civilian clothes did he decide to tag along. He was colonel after all, couldn’t let his team make an utter fool of themselves.

He felt sick before the car even stopped, the loud music and loud chatter easily heard from down the street. He didn’t even really like to drink. He needed to have full control over his body. Yet he was about to break that rule as all sorts of people brushed up against him. His height didn’t seem to matter here, the alcohol making people feel invincible.

“Give me a piggy-back ride!” Someone yelled from next to him. He groaned low in his throat, keeping his eyes trained on you. You quickly found the dance floor and he quickly found the perfect spot to view you from. Despite his height the hoard of people quickly caused you to fade from view.

The thought of something happening to you flickered through his mind. What if someone got handsy? He knew you could handle yourself- but he wanted to handle it for you. With another groan he left his seat in the corner of the room trudging his way through the mass of sweaty, loud people. He did take a bit of satisfaction from bumping into them a little too hard.

Where the hell were you? Trained blue eyes scanned the room from top to bottom, side to side and yet no sign of you. Were you getting swallowed up by the masses too? He wiped the sweat off his flushed forehead. It seemed never ending. The shouting. The touching. The room. The eyes. The hands. The sounds. The smells. The lights. Everything was just too much. He was about to scream when he felt a soft hand grab his. He recognized the feel of your skin instantly. He let his brain turn to mush as you pulled him out of the crowd, your sweet eyes sending him a worried glance. The hot air felt cool against his burning skin. He leaned against the wall, keeping your hand wrapped in his large one, like a lifeline.

“You alright Konnie?” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. He nodded his head, quickly wiping a few overwhelmed tears that managed to slip past his waterline. “Ko.” You sighed again, reaching up brushing one he missed away. His head flinched away. “Don’t be embarrassed Konnie. It was a lot- even for me.” You whispered, taking a few steps closer. His breathing had just began to come back to normal until you pressed yourself against his side.

“I hope no one else say that.” He grumbled. “I’d be unemployed.” You snickered.

“I won’t tell Konnie. I promise.”

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starsofang · 19 days

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simon riley x autistic!reader requested by 🪼 anon! <3 tw: anxiety/bits of a meltdown, but other than that, it's fluffy! previous part

Today’s been a very, very bad day.

Everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong, went wrong.

Your brain was filled with fuzzy, radio static no matter how many times you tried to flip the channel. The buzzing rang through your ears like an endless swarm of bugs whipping at your face, causing your skin to itch and crawl with impending unease.

It felt as if you were teetering off of a high cliff, legs dangling over the bottomless pit with only a single hand on the edge to keep you from sinking down into the vast ocean of nothingness.

Your brain was having an inner battle with the things that kept you operating. It was coercing you into a full blown shutdown, panic pressing all of your buttons and sending you into overdrive. You were sure you would short circuit and billow out with exhausted rings of smoke, and it was only a matter of time before it became too much to handle.

Simon was there before your system called it quits and imploded on itself.

He was always there. Ever since he’d formed a bond with you after learning of you being autistic and researching every possible way to understand you as an individual, he was always there, trailing close behind and aiding you before you burst.

Simon knew from the moment he saw the distant look on your face and the befuddled furrow in your expression that you needed a moment to breathe. Air to fill your lungs, peaceful serenity to occupy the warzone in your mind.

The way you became snappy towards the team was like a ticking time bomb ready to go off and wreak havoc to anybody unfortunate enough to get in the way. You were reclusive, close-minded, and nearly sent Johnny into an early grave when he attempted to joke with you. Poor Johnny was only trying to lighten your spirits, but Simon knew that wasn’t what you needed.

You needed security. You needed grounding. You needed somebody to lightly tug you back down to Earth and exterminate the ugly parasites worming around in your brain with a gentle coax of patience.

When Simon saw you sat around the others with your hands curled into fists, nails biting into the smooth skin of your palm, and your jaw clenched so hard he feared your teeth might break, he called things quits for the day.

He said nothing as he stood from where he sat, gently guiding you with him with a touch on your elbow. He let go as soon as you got the hint and opted to gesture with a nod of his head to follow him, as he knew any form of communication or physicality might truly coax your hand to let go off that ledge and dive right into that empty abyss.

He knew if he let that happen, he might have to spend weeks searching it to find you again.

Your steps were heavy and dragged from behind him. Your shoes made muted thumps on the floor, and you walked with a bitter vengeance, like you were hoping if you stomped hard enough, the floor might open up and swallow you whole.

Simon said nothing, even as the two of you entered the privacy of his quarters. It was new for him to allow somebody in the very space he could hide away in like that of a troglodyte. This was his sanctuary, and nobody, not even Johnny had the permission to enter it on their own free will.

You were an exception. You were always an exception.

Any time you needed time to think, space to collect yourself before you succumbed to numbing stimulation, Simon would allow this sanctuary to be yours as well.

“Sit,” he told you, and though a demand, it remained soft and quiet so as not to rattle the drums in your ears that were already on the brink of exploding into a bloodied mess.

Your face was mucked up into a darkened scowl but you did as he said, plopping yourself down on the edge of his mattress. The fabric underneath your hands felt like sandpaper, and when you spread your palms along the material, it felt like shards of glass cutting into your skin.

The static in your brain raised tenfold. It grew louder and angrier, and you took the mattress sheet into your fists, balling it up so tight, your knuckles turned a pale white.

Everything felt overwhelming, everything felt loud, you didn’t understand why the buzzing wouldn’t stop, why the bugs biting at your skin couldn’t feast on a meal that wasn’t you, why–

Something soft and puffy encased your ears, submerging them with a gentle string of mellow chords and instruments and filtering through to the chaos rooted in your brain. The static slowed to a light hum that no longer felt suffocating, but instead, warm and fuzzy, like a loving hug that shifted all of your pain and worries into nothing but dusted air.

Simon stood before you with both hands carefully placing the headphones to your ears. It was his way of wanting to touch you for comfort, without having to actually touch you. He knew every little trigger as well as every necessity that ensures you feeling grounded and safe, and music was one of them.

You hated loud, fast music when the world felt like it was collapsing in on itself, and Simon knew that. It was exactly why he opted for a tender melody that contained no words, no singing, just simple notes that you could force yourself to tune in on and seek solace in.

When Simon saw your expression melt away from stiff and angry to calm and peaceful, he took his hands away from your headphones, letting them sit on their own. The war in your mind was calling a truce, but just to assure both himself and you that it stayed that way, he grabbed one of the blankets he kept for you and began wrapping you up in it.

He made sure it was just loose enough to where you could move, but tight enough for it to feel like an embrace that he knew you weren’t ready to receive from him yet. When the time was right, he’d join you under the confines of the blanket and hold you for as long as you needed, but for now, he was perfectly content with sitting and waiting for you to come back to Earth.

The room was silent during his patient waiting, apart from the faint sound of the classical music playing from under your headphones. He remained crouched in front of you, hands resting on his knees and itching with readiness for when you’d open your eyes and give him that blinding smile he fell in love with along the journey of your friendship.

When the time came, Simon tilted his head at you as you stared back with a spark back in your eye.

“Better?” he asked, and when you gave him a toothy smile, he knew he’d done well.

“Better,” you repeated in confidence.

Simon smiled back, eyes crinkling beneath his mask. He gave your knee a gentle squeeze, and he happily joined you under the blanket when you lifted it in invitation, molding you into his side and letting his fingers brush through your hand with a thoughtful touch while the music continued to give you much needed calm.

If tranquility was all you needed in times where your mind was exhausted to the point of collapse, he’d greedily wait a lifetime if it meant being the calm before (and after) the storm and having the opportunity to end it rolled up in blankets with you in the congested space of his bed.

as always, i hope you enjoyed, and i thank 🪼 anon for this lovely request! hopefully you like it <3

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw3 #ghost cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #cod imagine #autistic!reader #request #cod requests

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empresskylo · 1 year

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ghost thought you hated him, but he had no idea why. he didn't remember ever doing anything to cross you. when you're stuck doing a mission alongside him, he gets curious enough to finally ask. (reader has similar personality as ghost and also wears a mask)

a/n: basically the reverse of this fic i did. also here's some fanart to help you visualize better (;

cw: slight nsfw content, nothing serious. uncomfortable sexual remarks from side characters.

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k+

masterlist

“Come on, Soap! Please!” You whined, interlacing your fingers together and looking up at the much taller man with your eyes twinkling in desperation.

“As much as I like it when you beg…” he paused, smirking at you, “No. If it’s that big of a deal, lass, talk to Lt.” You scowled at him and his eyebrow kicked upwards. “That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked, a teasing tone in his voice. You rolled your eyes and turned to storm off. “You’re much more enjoyable when you want something from me, you know that?” He laughed as he went in the opposite direction.

Your next mission involved you infiltrating the neighboring town, making your way through the busy streets, dressed as a civvy–at least that's what Soap told you.

With Ghost.

Fuck.

You were a goddamn sniper, why on earth would you be assigned to do hand-to-hand work? And the last thing you wanted to do was talk to Ghost about it, hence the pathetic pleading with Soap to get you to change positions. But of course he loved to torture you. He knew you didn’t like working with Ghost. It wasn’t like you hated the guy. In fact, it was pretty much the opposite of that. He distracted you. You got flustered and jittery whenever he was nearby, and that didn’t exactly work well when you needed steady hands and a clear mind–devoid of such attributes literally put people at risk.

At first you wrote it off as being intimidated by him. He was massive and daunting. But then you felt your whole face go warm at the one bawdy joke Soap made while Ghost was beside you. The joke wasn’t even directed at you; solely being near Ghost when someone made a crude remark had your mind racing. These types of feelings didn’t mesh well with this field of work. And, theoretically, if someone you worked with ever returned these awful, embarrassing feelings, you didn’t think you were capable of letting someone in. So you decided it was best to just stay away from your lieutenant as much as you could.

You adjusted your mask as you slipped into the bunks, grabbing your stuff for the mission. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and made your way outside. You wore a black, slim turtlenecked shirt, black cargo pants, and black boots. Your gator mask was snug over your nose, your hair loose. You weren’t geared up like usual–it would be pointless knowing there would be an outfit change required to slip into town.

The bright sunlight burned your eyes as you stepped out into the cooling air. You looked down at the vehicles and spotted only one humvee left. Soap waved up at you. “Bloody hell,” you mumbled as you hustled down the steps. You slid into the seat beside Soap and sat back, sighing.

“Cheer up, lass. It’s not so bad doing the groundwork.”

You glared at him, making him laugh heartily at you. As cold and reclusive as you were, Soap didn’t seem to mind all that much. And while it definitely annoyed you at times, you also enjoyed his silly humor and uplifting attitude. It was a nice change of pace to the rest of the dark bullshit surrounding you on a day-to-day basis. But you’d never tell him that–though, you suspected he knew already.

“Why would you want to send in the two people who always have their faces covered to go blend in with locals?”

Soap nudged you. “Because you’re not trying to blend in with locals.”

You raised a brow at him. He roiled in your distress, you wanted to punch him so badly. “You’ll be infiltrating the hideout at sundown.”

Okay, that was a little better than blending in with regular people, but still, you had questions. “But why me?” You paused. “What? Ghost can’t handle a few bad guys on his own?”

The weight of the humvee shifted. “Got quite the mouth on ya,” a deep voice grumbled. You felt your cheeks heat. You slowly looked up to see Ghost stepping into the vehicle, sitting across from the two of you. The vehicle rumbled and began to move.

Ghost’s eyes were locked with yours. You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. Fuck. He did something to you. Something that wasn’t good. Something that made you libidinous, unnerved with the weight of his eyes on you.

If you were really going to have to tough this mission out with Ghost, you hoped it would at least go smoothly. The last thing you needed was your hands freezing up because of some snarky remark he’d make on the comms, flustering you.

“I'm that bad, huh?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, realizing Ghost’s mask was shifting as he looked at you–those must have been his words.

Uncomfortable with your silence, Soap spoke instead. “Lass is just privy to working alone. Come to think of it, she reminds me of someone else I know.”

Ghost’s eyes darted to Soap’s, a wide grin on the mohawked man’s lips.

Ghost trailed his view back to you, but you were already looking out the back of the vehicle, trying to ignore the two men beside you.

There was something about you that he liked. Maybe it was the fact that he saw himself reflected in your visage. Not that Ghost would ever like someone like himself, but you seemed to understand where he came from. You even wore your mask at all times like he did. Something drew him to you, making him curious. Interested in why you hated him.

Standing in the shadows of the safe house, you slid on the outfit provided. “Jesus,” you grunted, the top you slid on tight around your chest. It was made to look like members of the gang you were scoping out tonight, the goal of this mission was to get one of the men alone and bring him back here.

“‘Bout ready?” A husky voice echoed behind you. You jumped, quickly pulling your mask up before turning to him. You felt his eyes rove your body, his eyes lingering on your mask that you hastily shoved back above your nose.

“Who the fuck picked this shit out? It doesn’t fit.”

Ghost’s outfit seemed to fit him just right. “It looks fine,” he grunted before turning away, his fist clenching.

You sighed before following him. You looked down and noticed how your breasts billowed over your bra, strangled by the tight clothing. Even though no skin was showing, this shirt was revealing way more than you were comfortable with. Soap must have been the idiot who picked out the size.

You matched Ghost’s stride, a few feet behind him. “We’ll enter separately,” he told you as you entered into the cool night air.

You nodded, your hand instinctively brushing over your gun hidden in the waist of your pants.

You turned your comm on and made your way down the path you had gone over earlier on a map with Soap. There were two snipers watching you from the adjacent buildings, ready if something went wrong.

You felt uneasy as you approached your target building, seeing men much bigger than yourself outside its doors.

They looked at you as you approached, their faces hidden beneath masks, mirroring you and ghost, preventing you from recognizing any of them. You paused in front of the one guarding the door, looking up.

“Here for the meeting?” He asked, something sinister in the way he spoke. You nodded, your fist tight, hoping to god he let you in and didn’t sniff out your true intentions.

The gravel crunched as two other men walked up beside their friend, their eyes taking you in. “Cute, little thing.”

“Haven't seen you at one of these before.”

You turned your head. “First one in this location,” you said cooly, your insides boiling at the way they were demeaning you. Feeling sick as they looked you up and down.

You were certain they weren’t fooled, their eyebrows raised, letting you know they had sly grins on their lips beneath the thin material stretched across their faces.

The guard stepped aside, letting you pass.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” one of the other men called to you before pulling out a cigarette.

When the door behind you closed you let out a deep breath.

“Fuck. Soap! So that's why you needed me!”

“Sorry, love. There were no other women on the force who could help out,” Soap’s voice genuinely seemed concerned.

You sighed, knowing the only reason you got past them was because of how engrossed they were with your body. Men were so stupid. Then you realized that’s why they would let Ghost in too. His tall, muscular frame was certain to impress the other men. Make them uncomfortable even. They wouldn’t turn away a guy built like him from coming to one of their meetings, even if they had never seen him before. You blushed thinking about Ghost’s frame and the way his shirt spread taunt over his chest.

“Didn’t give you too much trouble, did they?” A rough British accent spoke into your ear. You felt a chill run down your spine.

“Apart from them eye fucking me? No.” You paused. “Where are you?” You asked him, hoping your voice sounded more solid than it did in your ears.

After snaking around the inside of the building, hearing a commotion on the top floor, you made your way up the stairs. Your eyes narrowed in on the men in the room, searching for your prey. You spotted a smaller man on the outskirts of the crowd of masked men, thinking he’d be best to get out of the building without alerting any of the other members.

You moved to enter the room when large hands grabbed your arms and pulled you into the adjacent dark corridor.

You looked up, surprised to see Ghost hovering above you. “Shit. What are you doing?” You asked, your eyes shooting bullets at him and your arms on fire from where his fingers wrapped around your bicep.

“You were about to walk in their without me.”

“So?”

“This is a team mission,” he growled. “Those men are dangerous.”

“Oh, and what? Because I’m a girl you think I don’t know that?”

He rubbed a gloved hand over his face, your body warming realizing his chest was almost touching yours. The hall was small, his frame engulfing you. He actually had to put effort into not leaning up against you.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing your way past him, your fingers tingling as you touched him. “Whatever you say, Lt.”

Ghost grumbled something behind you, aggravated with your attitude.

You both entered the room, eyes darting to the two of you. A few of the men smiled. You weren’t sure if it was because they were admiring Ghost’s build or your clearly defined chest. Probably both.

The meeting began and Ghost hovered near you. You felt a presence on your side and looked over, a man a good foot taller than you looking down. He bent over and whispered in your ear, making goosebumps rise on your neck. You had to stop yourself from snaking away then kicking him in the balls. You couldn’t make out what he said with Soap muttering something in your ear, but you definitely heard him call you “doll.”

A few of the other men looked at you like you were their next meal, making you clench your hands, your nails digging into your palm. Fuck, you were so bad at this close-up shit. You’d do anything to be propped far away in a building looking down the scope of your sniper right now. You felt like you were intimidating enough to get by, but when surrounded by men much larger than you, you were an easy target.

You felt someone grab your waist. Your hand instinctively went to your knife, fed up with these men already, when you realized it was Ghost. You looked at him in confusion as he shifted you so you were standing in front of him. He had slid you away from the ogling men without even glancing down at you, the men in the room getting the subtle hint that you were Ghost’s. And no one would dare challenge Ghost if they had any brains–he was easily the biggest man in the room. You suddenly felt protected with his frame towering behind you. He claimed you, in front of everyone. Your chest was pounding loudly.

Your ears warmed, but you kept a scowl on your face, frustrated that you weren’t hearing a thing from the meeting because your thoughts were now swarming with Ghost. Your body was tense as you felt his proximity close behind you.

You tried to erase the feeling of his fingers on your hips, but they lingered like a phantom.

Almost an hour later, you both had slipped out of the room, waiting to pounce on the next guy to exit, which should be the smaller guy you spotted earlier if your timing was correct. Ghost stood a few feet in front of you, shadowed in the dark as you both waited.

A man came out close to where you were, digging in his pocket for his phone when you grabbed him around the neck, your hand covering his mouth, pulling him against you. He struggled, dropping his phone in the process. You prayed no one could hear the shuffling of bodies as you fought against him.

The man grunted then elbowed you in the chest, making you stifle a groan. Before you could swing him to the ground, Ghost’s fist collided with the man’s cheek, knocking him unconscious in one punch. You held the man as he went limp in your arms. You gulped, trying to settle the fluttering in your stomach at Ghost’s raw strength.

Once you made it to the bottom of the stairs, the man slung over Ghost’s shoulder, you broke the silence. “I had that,” you snapped. You weren’t sure why you were so upset. It probably had something to do with the fact that Ghost had made you flustered again and again. You were more mad at yourself than anything.

Ghost’s eyes flickered to yours, something unreadable in his expression, likely anger. “This is a team effort, soldier. It doesn’t matter that ‘you had it.’” You slid out a back door, the sky dark now as you motioned to Ghost that the coast was clear.

“You’re so full of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, not sure if you were talking about Ghost, or yourself.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Soap’s voice sang over the comms into both of your ears. Your face went hot.

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny,” Ghost growled. You felt a chill spiral up your spine at the way his voice vibrated in your ear. It was like he was leaning over your shoulder and speaking with his lips only inches away from your ear.

You hurried on ahead of Ghost, worried you might fumble or stutter with how fast your heart was beating.

Once you made it back to the safe house, Soap had appeared before you two to haul the guy you captured away into the other room as he slowly came back to consciousness.

Soap’s footsteps echoed down the hall as Ghost shoved you against the wall, his forearm extended over your neck, holding you in place. “Have I done something to you?” He snarled, his eyes shooting you daggers.

Caught off guard, all you could do was shake your head. Your lips frozen.

Ghost freed you before moving into the living room. “Yeah? Then why are you so fucking spiteful towards me all the damn time? Thought it might just be your personality, but I’ve seen you with Soap. Clearly you have something against me and it’s distracting.”

You were distracting Ghost? You pushed the thought that was quickly rising back down, you were obviously distracting him in a bad way. This was nothing to blush over.

And yet…

You followed him as he sat on a wooden chair, the safe house dark now that the sun had set.

“I know I’m not the most likable–” he began, but you cut him off.

“I don’t hate you.” Your voice was meek as you sat on the couch, taking your gloves off.

Ghost’s eyes traced your outline in the dark room, taking a long moment before speaking again. “Why do you always wear that mask?” He asked out of the blue, his mind still curious as to what he could have possibly done to make you hate him. He wasn’t even sure why he cared so much.

Your eyes shot up at him, your hands squeezing the gloves resting in your hand. “I could ask you the same thing.” You don’t know how, but you could tell he began to smile under his mask.

“You ugly under there? Is that it?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing… The lieutenant was teasing you. You rolled your eyes, trying to control your composure. “Quite the opposite,” you said, your voice not as confident as you wanted it to be.

Ghost’s eyes lingered on you a minute longer before he got up and began shuffling through the files sprawled on the kitchen table.

You got up and peaked down the hall, making sure Soap was still preoccupied in one of the rooms with your hostage.

“I don’t hate you,” you said again as you appeared beside Ghost. You looked down at the files, his fingers stopping. You looked up, tracing his fingers up to his chest, and then his vibrant eyes. He was staring at you, waiting for you to say more. You cleared your throat. “I, uhm. I guess, you just… distract me.” You could tell he raised an eyebrow. “Intimidate me.” You corrected, your ears warming. You were certain Ghost had known you had a little crush. You thought your demeanor was obvious with the way you always seemed nervous around him. The way you’d avoid him. The way Soap would tease you when Ghost was in hearing distance. You didn’t think that he would think you hated him.

“I don’t believe that,” he finally said.

You gulped and Ghost noticed the way you were suddenly shy. He saw it then. It finally clicked. The way you were shy around him. Not cold or put off. But fucking shy. You, of all people, were shy. Ghost’s cheeks suddenly felt hot as he watched you squirm under his gaze. It was that bloody mask’s fault. It made it hard to read your face most of the time. How could he be so oblivious?

“Tell me,” his voice was deeper than earlier, startling you, needing to hear you say it.

Your eyes nervously bounced between his, your hands clenching. He took a step closer, invading your personal space. “I don’t avoid you because I hate you,” you started, looking at his feet.

He reached a hand out and shoved your chin upwards so you were looking at him. He quickly removed his hand and you almost whined. “Go on,” he egged.

You swallowed hard. This was so embarrassing. You were about to come clean, things were going to become so awkward between the two of you—well, more awkward at least. “I avoid you because I like you.” There, you said it. His eyes were squinted as he studied your face. After a long moment of heavy silence, Ghost laughed. It was a beautiful sound that sent jitters through your body.

Your face stayed stoic as you watched him. Ghost couldn’t believe that this was all because you had a little crush. His fingers came out to hook onto your mask, his eyes searching yours for permission. Without speaking, you let him. He pulled your mask down, peeling it away from your face, letting Ghost see the scars that lined your chin. The scar that cut through your lip. You wanted to cave in on yourself.

He just stared at you, not saying anything. You were feeling very uncomfortable as he dissected you, regretting ever saying anything at all. You should have just let him think you hated him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Ghost cut you off as his hand slid along your jawline. Your breath caught in your throat. Ghost reached up to his own mask, pushing it up to the bridge of his nose, his thin lips and scruffy jaw becoming visible to you, along with his mirroring faded scars that sliced through his skin. He smirked. “Not so cocky now, huh?” His eyes danced between yours. “Cat got your tongue?” He teased, enjoying the way you had done a complete 180. Usually you were cold and grumpy, like him, but now, locked under his gaze, you were stuttering and blushing. Something inside Ghost melted a little.

Before you could retort, Ghost was bending down, his lips hovering above your own, his breath hot on your face. Your eyes were wide as he gripped your chin in his gloved hand. When you didn’t pull away, Ghost closed the gap, your lips connecting. You were shocked at first, not sure what to do. But after a moment, after Ghost began to move his lips, you did as well, in sync with his. Your hands instinctively came out and grabbed onto Ghost’s jacket as he hunched over, pushing you into the wall from his sheer strength as he kissed you. You went on your tip toes, smashing your lips harder against him. His arm rested on the wall behind you, holding himself steady as he bent in half to reach your lips.

There was something heady and passionate in the way he kissed you. It was unlike any other kiss you ever experienced. Ghost softly pulled back, his eyes trying to read your own as you looked at one another breathlessly. “Ghost,” you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

“Simon,” he corrected, his lips still hovering above yours letting you feel his hot breath against your face.

Soap cleared his throat from behind you two. You jumped, startled. Ghost stood up straight, his back still to Soap and waited for you to pull your mask up before he turned around.

Soap leaned against the doorway, his eyebrows wiggling as he looked at Ghost. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was interrupting something.”

Ghost growled as he walked towards Soap. “Not a fucking word, Johnny,” he said harshly as he pushed past Soap to go into the other room where your hostage was being kept.

You took in a unsteady breath, you probably should follow him. You had a job to do.

Soap had a big grin on his face as you went to walk past him. “Was ‘bout damn time,” his Scottish accent was heavy. You shoved him, your body language betraying you, displaying just how embarrassed you were. “What?” Soap asked, playfully raising his hands as he turned to follow you down the hall.

As annoying as Soap was, you felt a smile form under your mask. This was not how you thought the day was going to go. Fuck. You were screwed.

#ghost #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley

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