never going back again - ii
summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup
simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining
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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,
"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"
What you did all day,
"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"
It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.
"I thought you were good at cooking"
"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.
He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"
"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"
"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,
He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"
"Let you what"
"Cook, I'll make dinner"
"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"
"They don't feed you at work?"
"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"
"Did your mum cook?"
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"
"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"
He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,
"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"
He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,
"So what are you making?"
"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"
"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"
You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,
"Well, it smells great"
The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,
"You can't be serious"
"What'd I do?"
"That's like a cup of syrup"
"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"
"What if they already have"
You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"
"You don't have to turn away you know"
You make a small huh? in response,
"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"
"I just assumed"
"I know, but you don't have to turn away"
"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”
“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”
“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.
He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.
You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,
You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.
“That should do”
“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.
"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"
"You trying to kick me out?"
"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"
You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"
There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.
"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.
He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.
You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,
"You scared me"
"You were having a nightmare"
"Yeah, they happen sometimes"
It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,
He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,
He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.
"Will you stay, it's just"
He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"
You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.
You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.
You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.
"Do you have something in your pocket?"
He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,
"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.
He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,
"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"
You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.
You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.
You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.
“Where’s the kettle?”
“Top left cabinet”
You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,
He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.
“Yeah, yep, just making tea”
“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”
He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.
His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,
“Are you any good at fixing things?”
“Depends, what needs fixing”
“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”
“I could give them a look”
You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.
The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.
“I think you’re his new favourite”
Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.
“He’s not strange”
“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”
“Well get used to it”
He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.
You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”
“I’ll get right on it then”
It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.
I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.
It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.
“Cheers, love one”
Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.
“Must be hot with the mask”
“Get used to it”
You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.
“How’s it looking”
“So you’re almost done”
“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,
“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”
“Yeah, nearly there”
“Great, I’ll be inside”
The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.
“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”
“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”
He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,
“You alright?” You call
“Yeah, just sore”
“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”
You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.
“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”
He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,
He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.
“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”
“Might leave a scar”
“Adds to the collection”
You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.
“I know you are”
“It only hurts a little, when it happens”
“And someone did this to you”
“A few people”
“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,
“Nothing you need to worry about”
You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,
“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,
“Simon, would you- nevermind”
“What do you need?”
“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”
“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.
“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”
He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.
He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.
You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.
He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,
“Good morning kitty”
He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.
He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.
You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,
“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.
“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”
His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”
“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”
“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”
You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.
“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.
“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,
“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”
“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”
“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”
“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”
He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,
Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.
Tags: Swearing, 141 hanging at a bar, suggestive jokes, fluff, written with f!reader in mind
A/N: I hope you know I saw this request and nearly died by how cute it was like MY GODS. Also it was super hard as fuck coming up with a comment towards Soap (sorry buddy) that could provoke one to bust a gut so I hope what I came up with works. Thank you anon!
GIF NOT MINE
If he hadn’t seen you out in the field, there was no way in hell Ghost would have taken you seriously.
First off you were one of the shyest people he had ever met. You reminded him of König but with less anxiety. But Ghost respected you just the same. After all, anyone who was lucky enough to be picked for the 141 had to have skill and the fact Price plucked you the second he was able to said a lot.
Especially after being on a few missions with you.
Now, a good year or so after having met you for the first time, you had opened up to the team and quickly became the person Ghost thought about often. You and your damn giggles. The first time he heard you giggle, his neck nearly snapped due to how fast he turned his head to gawk at you.
It was also the moment he knew he was fucked.
These days, Ghost kept his relationship a professional one. After all, it was perfectly natural to watch over his team mates during missions. So what if he was a little more protective over you? So what if he never raised his voice at you when you were late on paperwork or goofed up during training?
So what he often turned his head away to hide a blush that was already covered by a mask whenever your giggles ran through the air?
He knew he was fucked when he hears you giggle for the first time but it got him thinking after a while that you never laughed. It was odd but Ghost was quick to shrug it off. If you were to laugh, he hoped it wasn’t because of one of his own jokes. Those were sometimes fucked and if you laughed at that, he’d turn around and order a psyc eval for you.
As if he didn’t avoid those like he avoided sleep some nights.
How wrong he was to shrug it off so fast.
It happened while you and the squad were at a pub one night. It was a different pub that night since their usual place was closed for repairs. Something about a pipe bursting in the kitchen. Ghost hadn’t paid attention. All he was focused on was his own drink and watching you kick Soap’s ass at pool.
“One more round lass?” Soap asked as he watched you pocket the money you already won from him. All 121 pounds.
“You really wanna bet more money Soap?” You asked, pausing to look up at the Sargent with a quirked eyebrow. “You’ve already lost so much.”
“Aye but I got a feelin’ ’bout next round. What says ya?” Soap answered with a confident smirk.
“Careful Soap.” Gaz spoke up from the side, leaning against the adjacent pool table with a beer in his hand. “She’ll run you dry if you’re not careful.”
“Just give up son.” Price, from his seat at the table with Ghost, added on. “Clearly pool ain’t for you.”
“Thanks guys.” Soap sighed, which had you giggling and Ghost’s heart doing a flip. “Real supportive you lot are.”
“What’re friends for?” You asked, grabbing your drink from next to Gaz. Some cocktail Ghost couldn’t remember the name of.
“Not beatin’ a man when he’s down on his luck?” Soap asked with faux hurt in his voice.
“Not our fault you’re shite at hittin’ balls into holes while drunk.” Ghost commented, which earned him a bit for a snort from you as you tried to not spit your drink out.
“If I may sir,” Gaz started with a growing smirk. “Sargent here isn’t drunk. He’s sober.”
“And what of it?” Soap turned to Gaz, more curious then anything.
“Means you don’t have an excuse.” Price chuckled. “I’d hate to take you golfing.”
“Don’t have any experience golfing sir.” Soap shrugged.
“Don’t have much experience gettin’ things into holes Soap?” Gaz asked which had everyone in their group laughing while Soap started swearing up a storm in jumbled Scottish.
Though your laugh was the only one Ghost heard.
Ghost could only watch with growing wide eyes and cheeks that were beating up fast as you doubled over laughing with tears forming in your eyes. It was music to his ears. Better then any song written by anyone he’s ever listened to.
While he was thankful no one could see the way his cheeks were no doubtly turning into a shade of red or pink, they could still see how wide eyed he'd become as he watched and listened to you laugh and smile. They were all too busy arguing over Soap's lack of skill both in and out of the bedroom.
Nor could they see the way you had your own blush when you realized you were under the flustered gaze of one Simon 'Ghost' Riley.
Reblogs, likes are appreciated. Requests open. Don’t repost without consent.
𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 '𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕' 𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔
➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader
➸ CHOKING: he doesn't squeeze that hard – just applies enough pressure the way you like it until that familiar glassy-eyed expression falls over your face, something lust-addled; he always uses his left arm, the one that's all tatted up, consists of intricate pieces he's collected over time until it's formed an elaborate black and white collage that’s inked into his skin – he enjoys seeing how you try to enclose two hands over the entirety of his muscled forearm but can't quite round off the circumference of it, not even trying to get him to pry his grip from your throat, but to keep him there and occasionally prompt him for a little bit more constriction if you need it (❝ Look so fuckin' good like this, don’t you love? ❞)
➸ FAVORITE POSITIONS: anything that can get him as deep inside you as possible, bottomed-out so that he can watch you take every thick inch of him which includes, but is not limited to
(1) mating press or any other variation of it – basically an aggressive 'missionary-style' that gives him the advantage of pile-driving into you, will try to ease your legs onto his shoulders for as long as you can handle it; also likes this because he can still see your eyes roll back in between thrusts when he just grinds into your cunt for a bit while he takes a break and plays with your clit (❝ Greedy cunt's just swallowin' me whole, innit? ❞)
(2) face-down, ass-up - has to pull on your hair a little so you bring your head up to make sure your mouth's not muffled by the pillow (he needs to hear each long, drawn-out moan he can get from you every time he brushes up against that special spot inside you); very primal and powerful, allows him the opportunity to see the arch of your back like this while he's gripping onto your hips for leverage but it's also just so fucking tight and deep (❝ You can take it all, can't you, sweetheart? Yeah, that's my girl. ❞)
➸ DIRTY TALK: typically more reserved in day-to-day conversation, had to work up to being vocal in the bedroom, which now consists of a diverse mixture of low groans, lots of swearing (fuck, shite, or whatever other word that accurately expresses everything he's feeling when he hasn't got a single coherent bloody thought at the moment), as well as any filth like
❝ Gotta stretch you out – work you open on my fingers… Y’know it’d be a shame to wreck this tight, little cunt before I’ve had my fill. ❞
❝ Can’t wait ‘til you milk every last drop of cum from my cock, love. ❞
❝ Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please.’ Let me hear you beg for it. ❞
❝ Christ, I’m gonna flood this fuckin’ cunt. ❞
❝ Do I look like I’m done? Lettin’ my cum leak out… I don’t think so sweetheart. Gotta fuck it back into you now. ❞
❝ Again – love, I'm not stopping until I get another one outta you. So be a good girl and fuckin' come for me. ❞
➸ SPITTING: has a few places he’s fond of; will lift up his mask just above his mouth in order to make it happen
(1) in your mouth, tongue held out in anticipation – he discovers that you’ve got a thing for spit play after a particularly hungry and feverish kiss that has him starving for you, swallowing down your moans, and when he pulls away there’s sort of a wet, glossy little sheen left behind on your lips that you run your tongue over; so, you ask him if he can spit in your mouth because you feel like you need more than just a kiss – he obliges because it reminds him of his cum on your tongue after he asks you where you want him to finish sometimes
(2) on your pussy – absolutely no valid reason for this other than the fact that he really likes rubbing his spit into your cunt and watching it mix with the slickness in between your legs just to make an even bigger mess than the one that’s already there
(3) in his hand, covering his palm – uses it to coat his cock with a few passes over the length of it with his fist, a few harsh tugs at his shaft and a smear of his precum at the head; doesn't really have to because you're wet enough (still wishes he had the opportunity to get you completely fucking soaked, except the circumstances won't allow it), but he's pressed for time, knows it won't be better than the natural lubrication of your own arousal and doesn't care too much since the idea of it makes him that much harder right before he slides on home into your cunt
➸ EATING YOU OUT: he loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, can't resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth, tongue flattening and stroking and licking its way into your cunt as you rock down, hips rolling, squirming under the iron-clad grip he's got on your thighs – craves the hot slick rushing out of you, doesn't want to waste a single drop but can't control the way your orgasm liquefies into a sticky and clear wetness that paints his lips and his chin (❝ C’mere. Gonna have you make a mess on my face. ❞ )
➸ DACRYPHILIA: when you're wrought with overstimulation, so, so sensitive after he's ripped the first few orgasms from you – tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a stinging, burning sensation growing in your throat as you try to tamp it down until the first wayward drops of brackish water escape, rolling over your cheeks unsolicited not because the sex hurt but because it was too good and you can't sort out the knotted tangle of emotions you harbor for simon; he asks in a rough and hoarse voice if you're okay, brushes the tears away in a questioning gesture with scarred knuckles until you admit exactly what the cause is, which elicits a deep moan from him signaling that he might just give you another reason to cry
➸ TEASING: rubs the head of his cock against the entrance of your awaiting cunt, back and forth, slowly, just so he can hear you whining impatiently for him to put it in because you hate the feeling of being empty; maybe you should ask nicely, try being polite – it might be the solution to putting an end to your misery
can’t stop thinking abt ghost eating ur pussy from the back like his life DEPENDS on it.
“y’taste so fucking good, love,” he rasped out, mouth barely an inch away from your cunt. his hands had a death grip on your hips to keep you from moving away from his mouth, whilst your own hands desperately tried to grasp at his head to push him away due to the overstimulation.
he wasn’t soft with it either. he would nip at your swollen clit every now and then, making you yelp in surprise. his tongue licked a fat stripe along your pussy from your clit to your entrance, swirling around the hole before thrusting it in. you could feel his facial hair chafe against your skin painfully because of just how long he’s been going at it.
the moans you let out were loud, high pitched, and whiny. your brain couldn’t decide if it wanted more or if enough was enough, but the more he went on and the closer you got to another orgasm, the more your hips pushed back against his face.
“p-please! si, please,” you begged, voice strained and throat sore but nothing on your mind except for simon and that fucking tongue of his.
he grinned against you, bringing his thumb down to rub on your clit. he rubbed tight, firm circles, laughing against your cunt when your hips tried to buck away from him. he pulled away slightly, blowing cool air onto the wetness, spitting into it, and then diving straight back in.
loud slurping noises, simon’s groaning, and your moaning combined definitely equaled a noise complaint from your neighbours, but you couldn’t care in this moment. not when his voice rumbled through your body, mouth pressed against your cunt as he spoke. “i know it feels good, but you gotta be a good girl an’ stay still for me, yeah?”
Cod Men with a Pervy!Reader
Warnings: Somnophilia, Underwear theft, stalking?, pillow humping, pillow theft, secret photography, masturbation
A/N: GOD, I got way too into this
You were staring. He could feel it, your gaze boring a hole into his masked face, though he never betrayed anything other than that he was having a peaceful rest. He figured it was just because you were uncomfortable having to share a bed with him, the only bed in the entire safe house that the two of you were going to be stuck in for the next few days. It seemed like hours before your eyes finally drifted away from his face, dragging down the length of his body before settling on the crotch of his pants. When he peeked at you from under his lashes, he could see your bottom lip in between your teeth.
And then you were unbuckling his belt and it took everything he had not to jump. You used the new opening to wiggle your hand into his pants, your breathing heavy as you stroke him over his boxers, your thumb paying special attention to the base of his cock as he hardens under your touch. This only seems to excite you more and he can faintly make out the sight of your other hand pulling down your own pants so that you could touch yourself at the same time.
Strangely, he found that he didn’t mind at all. It made him excited even. And surely you wouldn’t mind if he returned the favor, once you were asleep and he was the one awake.
König was completely oblivious to your perversions, to the point that you mistake it as him knowing and just not caring, further enabling you and your filthy habits. You’re touchy with him? Good because he’s touched starved! Though he is a little confused on why your hand is so high up his thigh or why your hands dip a little low when he gives you a hug.
What he does start to wonder about is why all of his boxers seem to be going missing. The used ones in particular seem to be going missing a lot more frequently then his clean ones. His favorite pair (a simple half red and half white) were the most recent to disappear and this time he’s determined to get them back.
What he wasn’t expecting was to find them in your room, clutched to your chest as you whimper, playing with yourself. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest when he even saw you sniff the fabric. His face was bright red, and he wasn’t sure how you didn’t notice him just standing in your doorway like this. Or maybe you did, and you were just tired of hiding what you were doing.
Perv meets Perv. The only difference is that Krueger knows that you’re a perv while you’re apparently oblivious to his own nature. How he lets you get close and run your fingers along his body when you think he’s not paying attention. Oh and how beautiful you look with your head thrown back in pleasure, your mouth forming his name as you ride your own fingers, Krueger watching through a scope from across the way, his breathing heavy as he palms himself through his pants.
Or how it’s your pillow that he’s rutting into when he watches you do mundane tasks, obsessed with the way you move when you think no one is looking. He can’t help but think about how you’d look with his cum dripping down your legs as you go about your household chores. Oh and don’t worry about the pillow, he’s already replaced it with one of his own.
One that smells exactly like him, and that he knows you’ll be pleasuring yourself to, your nose buried in the nice plush fabric. It’s his favorite pillow too, just so you know how much he cares about you, that he’s willing to give you all his best things just to make you happy, even if you don’t know it.
You’re insane if you think you can hide anything from Keegan, especially when you’re so obvious. He knows all about the pictures you take of him when you think he isn’t looking, your little camera clutched close to your chest as you stare at him with your adorable eyes filled with adoration. Like you want to worship everything he is.
It’s quite an ego boost for him honestly. He’ll start wearing tighter shirts and pants, making sure that every picture you take really shows off his body. If he sees you in, say, the gym? The shirt even comes off, and he’s smirking when he catches sight of how you drool over him, the near inaudible clicks of your camera seemingly going a mile a minute.
If a picture ever slips out of your pocket around him, he’s all fake surprised as he picks it up and hands it back to you, trying to hide how amused he is at the fear on your face. He’ll coo about how he didn’t know you were a photographer and how nice the photo is, even if the contents are absolutely filthy. (He does make a note that you seem to have a camera in his room though and he resolves to find it later so he can give you only the best angles as he touches himself)
Okay, I watched this TikTok, and BOOM 🤯 an idea was born. So yeah, enjoy.
Dad!Simon Riley x Reader
Warnings: language, Simon is a dad to a pair of teenage boys, slight mention of smut, but it’s not detailed really at all
Simon was a disciplined man. He had always been in the military, since he was seventeen years old, so disciple was something he was always used too. He believed that discipline was a good thing. It trains the mind and body, helps regulate emotions, and keeps you focused on your goals in life. To Simon, these were all important things to maintain. With that being said, having two teenagers living in the same house as him, was hard.
Of course, Simon wouldn’t trade his two knucklehead sons for anything. They were his boys, and his pride and joy. But god damn, did they annoy the shit out of him. They were obnoxious, hormonal beings, and Simon wanted to wring their necks half the time he was around them. They were so much like him when he was their age, expect for the trauma (he made sure to be the best dad he possibly could be, so they didn’t have to worry about any of that). They liked to test Simon’s limits, push his buttons, and see how far they could get with their shenanigans before Simon would snap.
Did Simon lose his cool sometimes? Yes, he did. Had he yelled at his teenage sons more times than he would like to admit? Again, yes. But the one thing Simon Riley never did, and never would do, is put his hands on one of them. It didn’t matter how red faced he was, or how hard the veins in his arms and neck poked out from anger or frustration; he would never hit his children. Usually, his stern voice, and heavy gaze was enough to whip the boys into shape when they acted out. But that was when they were children, oh no, they were men now (or at least they thought they were).
Hayden and Hunter were twins, and Simon had nearly shit himself at that first OB appointment, when the doctor exclaimed, “Oh my! We have another heartbeat!” Simon had been scared when you first told him you were pregnant, but when he heard the set of heartbeats, he had nearly lost his mind.
Now, the boys were fifteen, and Simon felt like he was losing his mind all over again. They weren’t outright disrespectful, they just liked to push his buttons. Hayden was the leader of the pair, always saying teasing things to get under Simon’s skin, and Hunter would join in. Simon was fed up with it. Sometimes it was funny, and he would indulge his boys in their teasings, but the last few days had Simon feeling like he was being bullied by his own children. So, what did you do to your bullies? You got even.
You were in the living room one night, sitting in Simon’s recliner, while you waited for him to get home. Hayden and Hunter were in their rooms, doing whatever they did in their free time, and you were praying they didn’t start their shit when Simon got home. He had called you a few hours earlier, and complained about how shitty his day was going. You had warned the boys against pushing Simon’s buttons when they got home from school, but knowing them, they only saw their father’s bad day as an opportunity.
Simon walked in the front door, removed his balaclava, and kicked off his boots. He moved them against the wall neatly, where he always kept them, then tugged off his jacket. He hung it on the coat rack, and dragged his feet, as he walked in the living room. You stood from his recliner, and gave him a small smile, placed your hands on his shoulders, and gave him a kiss. “Hey, Sweetie. Did things get any better today?”
Simon sighed, and shook his head, before sitting down in the recliner, and stretched his legs out in front of him. “No, was just a shit day. How has yours been, Love?”
“Good. I got some housework done, and I’m about to start on dinner. What sounds good to you?” you asked, already making your way to the kitchen.
“Anythin’, Love. Just surprise me.” Simon called back.
At the sound of their father’s voice, the twins came walking in the living room, and sat down on the couch. “How was work today, Dad?” asked Hayden, earning a warning glare from you in the kitchen. Of course, he ignored you, and looked at his dad expectantly.
Simon sighed, grumbling back, “It was fine, Hayden.”
“You sound tired, Dad.” Hunter commented, his eye brow raised.
“Yeah, recruits givin’ you a hard time, Old Man?” added Hayden, a teasing smirk beginning to form on his lips.
“Boys, don’t start. Seriously, not tonight.” Simon warned them, giving them each a pointed look.
“Why do you always think I’m tryna get under your skin, Dad?” Hayden asked with a laugh, and faking offense.
“Because you are, Hayden. Shut it, and leave me alone tonight.” Simon grumbled back, running his hand over his face tiredly.
Hayden put his hands up in mock surrender, before saying, “Okay, Lt. Yes, Sir.”
Of course, Simon wasn’t a lieutenant anymore. He had long surpassed that rank, and was now Colonel Riley. Soap still insisted on calling him Lt. though. Much to Simon’s dismay, his sons had also grown up hearing Soap call him Lt., so the nickname was inescapable. Once you finished dinner, you called the boys into the dining room to eat. You handed Simon his plate, which you always fixed for him, if he didn’t beat you to it. The boys fixed their own, followed by you, and everyone sat down to eat.
Simon was quiet, as you asked the boys about school and their extra curriculum activities. He was listening to them, of course, but after a long and tiring day, he preferred to be quiet. Hunter talked about his extra classes he was taking, hoping to get a head start for the next school year. Hunter, who was still a good student academically, but preferred sports over academics, excitedly talked about football (or if you’re from the states like me, soccer) try outs that were happening next week.
“Dad, did you ever play any sports?” Hayden asked once he was finished, taking a bite of his meal, as he waited for Simon to answer.
“No, didn’t have time or money for sports.”
Hunter raised his eye brow in question. “So what did you do? Just sit around at home?”
The boys didn’t know much about Simon’s past. They were too young to know all the gory details, but Simon had promised them that when they got older, he would finally tell them. So far, they knew they had a grandfather, who died of cancer when Simon was in his early twenties. Their grandmother was a kind lady, who would’ve loved them so much, and would’ve done all she could to give them everything they wanted. Tommy would’ve been the fun uncle, checking them out of school without Simon’s permission, and probably getting them into trouble with their dad. Beth would’ve loved them too, and Joseph would’ve been the older cousin, putting them up to things, and showing them how to be true menaces. Hayden and Hunter didn’t joke about their deceased family, not only for their father, but because it was a sore subject for them also. They loved hearing their dad talk about their family, especially their grandmother. They had painted a picture of perfection in their head for their late grandmother, wishing they were given the chance to meet her, and feel the same unconditional love she had for Simon for themselves.
Everything else though, well, that was free game for the boys to tease Simon about. Simon gave Hayden a look at his question, and replied back, “No, I worked as an apprentice at a butchers shop in high school, then joined the military.”
Hayden snorted, bellowing out, “Our Daddy, the infamous Ghost, slung meat around all day in high school?!”
Simon rolled his eyes and shook his head, and continued eating. Hayden didn’t like the lack of reaction, so he continued, “Don’t think that might’ve been your true callin’, Dad? We could be swimmin’ in prime cuts right now.”
“It’s really an opportunity missed, Dad.” Hunter added, with a small smile.
“Boys, leave him alone. Finish eating, you’ve got school in the morning, and still need to shower and get ready for bed.” you said, putting an end to the conversation.
Simon gave you a grateful look, before Hayden’s voice cut through the silence once more. “So, have you heard anymore of that recruit that bested you in knife throwing?”
Simon took a bite, chewing and swallowing, before he said, “Didn’t Mum tell you to finish eatin’?”
Hayden nudged Hunter under the table with his foot, replying back, “Yes, Sir. I am eatin’. Just wanted to talk to my old man before headin’ upstairs.”
“We’ve missed you, Dad. You’ve been workin’ too hard in the office. Don’t see how your back isn’t broken at this point from slouchin’ over your desk so much.” teased Hunter, knowing Simon did way more than sit at a desk all day.
Simon narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two boys. They were trying to get under his skin, he knew this game by now. So, he decided to do something he didn’t often do, and play back. “Yeah, now that you boys mention it, it’s actually been killin’ me lately. Darlin’, I think a hot shower together is in order when the boys go to bed.” he said, looking at you.
Your raised your eyebrow, before replying, “Umm, yeah, that’s fine, Si.”
Hayden glanced at Hunter, and thus, an all out war began. “You sure we don’t need to install a shower bar, Dad? Wouldn’t want you fallin?”
Simon hummed, taking a sip of his drink, before replying, “Nah, your mum’ll catch me. Been a while since I’ve been on top of her, ya know, cause of my achin’ back.”
Hunter nearly choked on his drink, and Hayden just stared opened mouthed at Simon. “What the hell, Dad?!” shouted Hunter, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Okay, ew.” chimed in Hayden after a few seconds, a mortified look on his face.
Simon raised his eyebrow, sitting back in his seat confidently, and propped his arms on the back of his chair. “What, you want to tease, then I’ll tease too.” He paused, grabbing your hand, and looked at you. “So, what about it, Love? We’ll take a hot shower, and I’ll rub your feet like you always like? Maybe create a new life, if we can stay awake long enough?”
You knew Simon was only joking, well, mostly. But still, your cheeks were red, your face was hot, and you were extremely flustered. Hayden and Hunter were absolutely mortified. They knew their dad could be sarcastic and snarky, but this…this was pure evil.
“Okay, Dad, please, no more.” Hunter begged, while Hayden chimed in, “Yeah, we get it. You can still get it up. Just make sure to take your blue pill thirty minutes before.”
“Don’ need it. It works just fine. Isn’t that right, Mummy?” Simon replied, his eyes unwavering from Hayden’s, as he took a bite of his dinner.
Hayden tried not to break like Hunter, really, he did. But the thought of his parents doing anything remotely sexual, well, that did it. “Okay, I’m done. You win, Dad. I’ll never bother you again, Sir.”
“Yeah, sorry Colonel.” added Hunter, calling him by his actual rank, instead of Lt.
Simon gave you a triumphant smile and a wink, and went back to eating his dinner. The table was quiet, just like how Simon hoped it would be. The boys finished eating, bud the two of you good night and told you both they loved you, before heading to their rooms. You and Simon finished, and you grabbed all the plates, and took them to the kitchen. “You’re something else, Simon Riley.” you said, as you began washing the plates.
Simon chuckled and stood, wrapping his arms around your waist, as he made his way to you. “They’ll one day learn, no one can tease like me, Love. I play to win.”
You smirked and leaned back into him, feeling his hands grip your hips, and pull you back against him. “You aren’t wrong, I’ll give you that.”
He hummed, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “So, how about you leave those for me to finish, and we’ll go upstairs and take that hot shower now?” he mumbled, his lips leaving soft, wet kisses against your skin.
You smiled, and nodded, left the dishes in the sink, and let Simon lead you up to yours and his room. He walked in the bathroom, and turned on the shower, laughing when Hunter yelled out, “Oh, fuckin’ hell, he wasn’t jokin’!”, sounding awfully similar to a certain soldier named Ghost.
@nickangel13 @katcaron @madamemelancholysstuff @kiroshang @pasta-m1lk @bythe-water-fountain @averyyreads @audacity9 @diasnohibng @peachymonsters @pookie90 @warrior-of-justice @cabreezer0117 @thriving-n-jiving @vantae-tea @lacunaanonymoused @serpens-dormienti
— 15. [FANTOMĂ] GHOST / SIMON RILEY X FEM! AFAB READER
WARNING : MANHANDLING, DEGRADATION, PRAISE, FEAR PLAY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, KNIFE PLAY, BONDAGE, SPIT PLAY, MASK KINK, IMPACT PLAY, OVERSTIMULATION, BLOOD, PRIMAL PLAY, SIZE KINK, DARK CONTENT! NSFW, (DNI IF YOU AREN’T 18+)
A/N : The story will be substantially altered, and certain portions may not be linked to the original lore of COD. I do not play the game, nor am I educated in the military field; this is simply self indulgent. ALL OF THIS ARE A WORK OF FICTION AND IS LABELED AS DARK CONTENT, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
— Ghosts are a tale, a haunting narrative; some may find them symbolic, but they are essentially a mental construct; some may believe in them, while others do not. They are terrifying, instilling fear in the hearts of those who cross them.
Your trembling fingers grasp the firm soil beneath you, gripping it with might. The thumping of your heart synchronizes with the heaves of your chest, under your nails are caked with dirt, twigs and dead leaves entangling with your hair. You’ve been running for what felt like hours now, you’ve fallen and got back on the soles of your bare feet more times than you can count, your frail fingers grazing the tender bruises trailing down your thighs as you try to ignore the constant throbbing in your skull.
A twig snapping causes your head to snap up, wintry wands, waved by nature's hand, take on a bold black silhouette in silvery air; a sob caught in your throat. You get up by the palms of your hands, sliding your back up against the tree as you run, tears blurring your vision by the sheer fear that has its grip in your heart. Multiple debris has dug into your foot but you paid no attention. Through the dance of fog, the twirl of mist, a small, cozy cabin sits atop of firm land, big enough to play cat and mouse with whoever is running after you. You immediately seek shelter, your frail body slamming the aging, oak door. You slam it shut, pushing an old book case to block the door with whatever strength you had left.
You grab ahold of the ends of your dress, wet from the rain and caked with mud, wringing it with your hands. You start to look around, a measly wooden chair and table sits on the corner, spotlighted by the moonlight, book shelves after book shelves that are littered with rubbish. Your feet thud against the wooden floor as you near the lone desk. A wall of newspapers, pages torn from magazines and books are slacked onto the peeling walls. You grab one that piqued your interest, ripping it off the wall and reading it with trembling fingers.
As you take in the information, a prickling sensation by your nape alerts your senses, tears brimming your eyes as your gut drops. The paper crinkled in your hand as you fell to your knees. “No, no, no!”
“Found you.” Strong arms held you by your armpits, lifting you into the air. A scream tore from your throat, pain spiraling up to your spine by being slammed onto a shelf. “Fuck! What do you want from me, please let me go!-” You were interrupted by a pointer finger touching your cold lips, “Shh” he said. You finally had the courage to open your eyes, widening as you were faced with a man bigger than you, his face concealed in a skull mask, eyes blown with primality. Your mind, hazed from previous events, is confused by the calmness emanating from him, but the danger was overpowering.
Your whimpers subside as tears lick the flesh of your cheeks. He brings you into the bathroom, tying your arms to the shower head with a crimson rope he picked up on the way.
He steps back and admires his work as your chest heaves from the intakes of air, nervousness and fear wrapping it hands and gripping your throat, along with your heart.
"What did I say, hm?" He inquires gently, his deep voice rumbling deep within his chest. He's so large that you had to bend your head back to face him. As a display of defiance, you shake your head and purse your lips.
“I asked you a question, love.” He repeats, “To- To stop roaming these forests.” you respond, voice steadying. “Right, and you didn’t listen.” you can’t help but feel ashamed for defying him at his disappointed tone. “You said I can’t be here because there are dangerous people around, but you’re lying, I haven’t seen anyone around, except you.”
“Exactly.” His tone is gruff as he tears your dress off down the middle, ridding you of clothes except your underwear. You gasp and cross your leg, tugging your arms down in an attempt to cover yourself.
“You look so beautiful like this, all filthy and afraid.” As his fingers caress the apple of your cheeks. You flinch from his touch, turning your face to the side. “You scared of me love?” he says, almost humorously. “Isn’t that the reason you come here, everynight? To come see me? Because you know you’ll only get that fear you crave from me.”
“Does it make you wet, knowing that people fear me? Knowing that you’re the only one who has gotten close enough?” He chastises, “Your curiosity will get you in danger, my love.” Your stomach caves, thighs pressing together as you try to resist the nature of your very being. You tried, tried to resist the chase, the thrill, the fear that this man has brought to you, but it had gotten so addicting, so inhabitable to the point you live and breath for it.
You tell yourself that it’s wrong, so wrong to be living like this, living with threats behind, chasing after you but you couldn’t resist the temptation, couldn’t stay away from him, so raw and untouched.
His face had gotten closer, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek through his balaclava, your lips part open as you welcome all the ugly parts of him, all the sick and twisted elements that you’re willing to take from him, and he knows that with how you bare yourself to him, like an offering to a god. “Please.” One word was enough for him to kiss your lips through his mask, your hips immediately rutting against his thigh. “I’m going to fuck you til’ sunrise.”
His big hands grip the plush of your hips, helping you to tilt your hips back and forth in his thick thighs until he sees you forming a wet spot on his combat pants. “Look at that, grinding on my thigh like a little slut. My little slut.” He moves high thigh away, and you give him a desperate whine in return.
A sharp, glinting metal trails from your sternum, to your hips, a sharp cry escaping from your lips as it digs through skin, just light enough to leave a scar. The knife moves to the side of your hips, tearing through the thin fabric of your underwear, baring your swollen cunt to him.
He circles your clit with the rubber handle of his knife, spelling his name, you couldn't decipher it with your hazy mind, pleasure rolling off in waves. He trails it back up your torso, your slick sticking to your skin. “Spit on it.” He instructs and you do, sticking out your tongue and letting your saliva drip into the handle while maintaining eye contact. Your arousal and your saliva mix together as he inserts the handle into your cunt, your legs automatically widening to welcome his assault. “Feel so good” you moan through heaving breaths, he smiles under his skull mask, kneeling down on his knees as he lifts half of his mask, exposing his red lips, parted open and wet with his saliva as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth. You throw your head back, hips gyrating on his face as the knife pumps in and out of you, his hands that grips the sharp end of the knife, digging into it, his crimson blood trailing down his forearm dripping down his elbow onto the bathroom floor. Your eyebrows knit and your eyes close in pleasure, your hips shaking from the stimulation. He spits into your clit as he rubs it with his other hand, his eye trained on your face, there’s nothing he loves more than seeing your face contort with pleasure.
“Look down so you can see how I’m on my knees for you, bleeding and desperate to taste you, look and cum for me.” He stated firmly, you trail your eyes down and meet him and it was a sight you’ll never forget, pleasure climbs up your spine, coursing through your veins, consuming you whole.
“That’s it, scream for me, sounds so beautiful.” You come down from your high, head lolling to the side. He nips and sucks you clean until he’s satisfied, “That’s my good pussy, yes it is.” He coos. .
He stands back up, throwing his knife to the side as he turns you around, the rope twisting harder into your wrist as you wail in pain. His combat boots kick your left feet to the side, widening your legs for him. He grabs ahold of your waist, his other hand pressing down your lower back, arching you beautifully.
He presses his hips into your bare ass, humping and thrusting as he releases groans beside your ear, you bite your lips as you thrust back, his movements getting harsher and harsher until you hear him zip his pants down, hurriedly taking his cock out.
You look back at him, stroking his cock, standing tall with his tip swollen and dripping with pre cum, veins bulging as he grabs himself at the base, his hips rutting into his palm. “Please- want it so bad.” You plead, throwing your ass back onto his hips as he catches it with his palm, steadying you as he guides the head in. “Fuck-”
“Does that feel good?” He asks as he pulls out, and thrust back in. “Oh I bet it does.” He pants as he thrusts his hips, making you take the entirety of his length. A beaded chain, wraps around your thighs, his hand curling against it as you feel it embed into your skin, the chain dangles as he fucks into you, his dog tag.
“Fuck, it’s too much, can’t anymore-” as your hands push his pelvic back.
“You’ll take it because I said so.” He said, thrusting harder, tilting his hips as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. “This is for doing a good job.” He whispers, wet lips ghosting the shell of your ear. You feel him spit into his hands, his thumb circling your puckered hole as he inserts it inch by inch, “And this is for being a good girl.”
“Gonna cum, gonna cum-” You warn as your head falls back onto his shoulder, he lifts both your legs up, lifting you as he continues to chase his high, his cock bulging out your stomach.
“So good love, so good, fuck, cum with me- now.” His ragged moan beside your ear pushed you to the edge, pussy clenching on his girthy length. His hot cum fills your pussy, your eyes rolling back, saliva dripping into the side of your mouth from the immense pleasure.
You feel your arms loosen, as he unties the rope that binds your hand.
“Care for a bath?” He whispers, rubbing his warm hands on your lower back as he carries you bridal style.
“What’s your name, Ghost? Will you tell me?” You ask, doe eyes pleading.
Your eyes snaps open, jaw trembling from the cry forming inside your throat. You feel your hips itch as you scratch, your scar making an appearance.
Etched into the skin of your hips, your hair sticking to your neck from the sweat. You dreamt of him again.
But that’s all he ever was, a figment of your imagination, haunting your dreams, instilling fear into your heart.
A ghost, Fantomă.
I have a hard time not thinking about Simon having baby fever.
Simon who loves you so desperately, the feeling changing him at his core, rendering him softer, sweeter, more gentle, even if it is only for you. Something has changed in him, something that fuels a fire in the pit of his stomach for more, something that pushes him on to marry you, make you his in the eyes of all, of filling you with himself until you’re heavy with his child.
He can’t help but imagine you pregnant, carrying his baby, singing soft lullabies to your belly, his hand stroking over your skin when they kick or move. He can’t help but caught up in a vision of you with a baby on your hip, a little girl curled around your legs, her face playfully peeking out between your shins. Maybe she’d have your hair, or his… a sandy blonde-brown mix that reminds him of Tommy’s.
He knows it’s mostly your fault. He’s never felt this… urge before, this almost primal desire to make you a mother, to have a child. It’s because you believe in him, he thinks. Because you’re patient and sweet with him, because you see past the scars and the past and the pain. It’s because you see him, past Ghost, past Roba, past everything. He’s obsessed with you, with keeping you forever, with having as many pieces of you as possible.
This is my first, so bare with me I'm adjusting. Honestly reading stories of Ghost x Reader won me over so here's my little idea of Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, I'm hoping to make this a series and learn as I go. This been sitting in my drafts for like....ever and I feel it's about time to share my efforts. Enjoy !
Safe With a Ghost
+18 Readers Only
Chapter One : You're Mine...
Summary of this Series : Dating Ghost has it's ups and downs, you both are busy with your jobs(you work at the ER) . Some days it takes a toll on you during his leaves. You live peacefully nonetheless and always happy when he returns, because no matter what, nothing bad would ever happen to you...right ?
What to Expect : Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, female reader,SMUT(18+ Only), fluff, flirting, romance, kissing, touching, teasing, emotional obstacles, and more,
Pet-Name : Varies but mostly using Pigeon and Kitten (18+)
Looking down at the chart after filling out some collected data and results about your patient, you glanced up at the clock seeing the time as you noticed it was 06:47. You give a soft yawn after a long night shift finishing up your last chart. As you were just finishing up, in your peripheral line of sight, you see a dark silhouette standing in the corner of the ER hallway leaning against the wall. Glancing up from the chart, you beam with a smile, before striding over to the man whom you've loved and missed....Ghost but as you know him Simon.
You rushed towards him in your lab coat, as he slowly moves away from where he stood embracing you back. Both holding each other, his colossal hands wrapping around your small waist as you press your head into his black hoodie chest. Eventually pulling away looking up at him you compose yourself "I can't believe you're here ?! I thought you weren't returning for another week ? " You say softly with excitement.
Ghost eyes soften at the sight of you finally in his arms, his balaclava moving as he spoke "Got let off earlier." he said gruffly taking you in, as he was quite distracted seeing you in your work outfit. He always found you attractive in your medical uniform with your hair tied up high in a ponytail slightly exposing your neck. Without even registering, Ghost had lifted his mask just enough over his nose to kiss onto your bare neck licking there gently. You squirm under his grasp, giggling softly from the sudden affection, yet playfully batting at him to pull away. "Not here babe...I haven't even clocked out yet" he growls softly near your ear nibbling it before pulling away finally looking down at you. "How much longer ? " he asks eyeing you intently. You rub gently over his biceps feeling them flexed under his hoodie, as he holds you in an embrace looking at his chest taking in the moment that he's in front of you. You bite your lower lip glancing up at him. " Gimme, few minutes. I'll meet you in the parking lot." He nods his head curtly, before leaving he leans down to kiss you affectionately, needing, craving, sucking you in as he's longed for you as you for him. Breathlessly catching your breath, he makes his way out of the ER, somewhat grateful rather to wait outside as he hated being in a hospital from past experiences.
You watch him stalk away, wondering if he's caused any other patients to have a heart attack from his large demeanor and skull mask to top it off. You giggle to yourself how many times patients thought he was death itself ready to take them. Snapping back into focus. You finish up your last chart, putting it into files and writing down the time you're clocking out. You make your way to your locker grabbing your stuff, and quickly getting out of your lab coat putting it into your locker.
Eventually you make your way out of the ER into the parking lot, as you see Ghost leaning against his car...our car. You smirk at him taking in the view, as he eventually notices you staring a glint of fire in his eyes as you make your way over to him. "Like what you see, doll ?" He says smoothly, causing a shiver down your spine as you are now in front of him looping your fingers onto his shirt as you gently glide your hand underneath to touch his abs as you make a quip remark "What's not to like ?"...he lets out a husky chuckle which makes you want to melt missing his voice and laugh " Easy lovie, thought you don't wanna make a scene at your workplace...." His eyes squints and the twitch of the mask makes you aware he's grinning underneath as he continues...."Unless you want me to humiliate you in the parking lot, kitten ?"
If it wasn't already humid outside, your body was truly steaming from his flirtatious words. Between your legs itching for the longing attention from him to ravish you was tempting. However, you felt the tiredness creep in, having to work double the amount of night shift lately. You didn't even respond yet, but Ghost knew immediately you were worn down as his eyes softens, reaching up with his skeleton gloved hand to touch your cheek " Let's get you home lovie, we have time to catch up." He says softly, you felt contented and relieved he understood and knew your needs as you smile up at him leaning up to kiss his masked cheek.
The drive home was hazy, you make this kind of drive to work every day driving two hours to the ER and home. Ghost drove you home, and the drive home was silent but comfortable. He had his hand placed on your thighs, as you laid your hand over his, you hands comparably tiny to his as you looked out the window of the view, before eventually drifting to sleep.
When you arrived, you didn't even know you had arrived, as you were fast asleep, overcome with exhaustion. You began to wake up however, when you felt Ghost unbuckle your seatbelt and was carrying you bridle style close onto his chest into your apartment. Was a cute two story building with trees on each side, a fenced gate in front (one which he opened while carrying you with such ease) and cute porch.
Slowly coming to, he obviously notices you start to stir in his arms as he looks down at you seeing you want to be put down. He was tempted to hold you up longer despite it, but knew better, setting you down onto your feet carefully. His hands sliding up to your waist as you slowly wrap your arm around his neck with the other near his neck to slowly pull up his mask, which he allowed, as you slid it up just enough to show his lips, with a scar slit slanted over them. You lean forward kissing him more, as he pulls you closer deepening the kiss. When you finally pull back you let out a soft pant. Turning on your heel you unlock your apartment door, entering, with Ghost following close behind, as he closes the door behind you locking it. Making your way upstairs you let out a soft yawn stretching as you glance back at him, he was still following you up the steps his hand on your waist as you both make your way up to your shared bedroom.
It was spacious, the bed was queen size, with two nightstands on each side, lamps on both. You slept on the right and him on the left, you both have your own closest on both sides and a small lounging couch behind the bed. Already beginning to undress not caring Ghost was watching, you slip out of your clothing, taking in the view of your back exposed only with a bra. You let your hair down out of a ponytail as you drape it over your neck, before glancing at him, giving him a cocky smirk. God he missed you. "You keep staring like that you might burn me alive." He chuckles walking over to you after removing his leather jacket exposing his tattoo sleeve arm and strong biceps. Now only in a short sleeve black shirt that was tight on him, nothing fits him honestly, there's literally no fitting size for his body. "Maybe you're making it hotter in here. Should stop teasing me with your body lovie." He says gruffly as you pat his chest looking at him, your sharp eyes, which was what caught his attention of you so long ago that you're still together. Everything about you, you were bold, smart, caring, and classy. You both been in a relationship for 3 years. Sometimes he had to remind himself you were his, but the reminder always hit when he came home and sees you light up whenever you saw him. Of course you knew nothing about his work, he kept that part private, all you knew was sometimes his job called him away longer than you liked. Despite that, you understood. As someone in the medical field you too were often sent to different hospitals that needed your expertise or meetings. He was just glad the mission was finished early to come home to you. Now he just hope no one disrupted it.
You look at him "I can't help but tease you Simon, you're too easy " you give a smirk, he chuckles removing his mask to reveal his handsome face. He had scars adorning his face, but despite them, if anything, made him look more handsome, almost like he was "a tapestry of scars". He had told you long ago the stories behind his face scarring, it was when he was more determined to take your relationship to another level. His brows furrow you didn't even realize he backed you up to your closet door as you let out a gasp looking into his eyes the whole time, his towering figure leaning over you with his arms outstretched over your head against the closet "I'm that easy you say ? Didn't seem to be the case the last time you whimpered for me to go easy on you." The remembrance of the night before his last departure, you two were in a heated passion you were screaming out in the moment of lust that the words slipped out of your mouth. You were blushing intensely, it was obvious. Simon knew his way with words and remembering every word you say, he'd use them against you. You fumbled with your words "Well... I- " before you could finish his hand was on your throat, tongue pushed into your mouth as you let out a moan through the heated intense kissing. Your hands reached up to his neck sliding up his nape, you could feel Simon's other hand that was on the closet slide down pulling you towards him at your waist, as he slid more down to give your ass a squeeze. That got a whimper out of you. Despite your tiredness, you wanted, needed to feel him, all of him. You moved your hands down his pectoral muscles as they seem to tense as you glide your hand down his stomach, as you slid your hand up under his shirt to touch his bare abs. Your hands were cool, so this caused him to tense under your touch with his heated abs warming your fingers to the touch. Simon, lowered himself more as he broke the kiss, to kiss onto your bare exposed neck. You willingly tilting your head to the side for him to have full access as you lift your head slightly back, as his kisses and licks sent a shiver down your core.
Your soft moans lingering in the air, as it made Simon go even crazier, he sucked onto your neck to leave little marking knowing you'll scold him tomorrow when you're not in a heated trance about not making them obvious. But he didn't care, you were HIS and he wanted to make sure everyone saw that. His hands were already making their way down to unclip your bra, the snaps easily coming off with just one hand as it released from behind. Eyes looking down to examine your body, he could see your perfect breasts and nipples hard as his one hand slid the straps off over your shoulders, as you allowed so he can see your full breasts. His dark eyes lingering on them as you pant softly, his eyes than bore into you as he gave a smirk "Now how easy am I going on you kitten ? You're already panting" he chuckles moving his head down to lick between your breast getting a whimper from your lips "Y-Youre not being fair- " he picked you up in that moment getting a yelp from your lips as he throws you onto the bed on your back. You sprawled out onto the bed blushing even more as he hovers over your small body, smirking down at you, his hands pressing down near your head "Oh ? Didn't realize this was a competition? If that's the case..." He leans down closer to your face kissing your shoulders as he starts pulling down your pants exposing your panties. Simon stands up looking at your body in your tinted pink panties, they fitted nicely but barely covering your cunt. It was already wet, he chuckled moving his hands up your thighs making his way to your pantie line, before pulling them down slowly. Tossing your panties aside he looks down at you more hungrily, as a predator ready to eats his meal, and you were his prey and main course. His hands spread your thighs apart resting one of them over his shoulder as he kneeled into the bed moving down to lick your wetness.
You let out a moan as you feel his tongue begin to lap over your clit, it was already throbbing your walls were tightening from the tease. You wanted to squeeze your legs shut but would than feel strong arms keeping them open and his warm breath growl against your cunt "I'm not done with my "fair" share kitten" it made you shiver as he spoke with licking your clit, it made it harder not to want to squeeze your legs together when he pushes the tip of his tongue into you. That really threw you over the edge. Your back arched as Simon's hand slid under you gripping and clawing at your hips as he kept eating you out. His voice rumbled against your cunt "Mmm, sweet little thing, you must've missed me that much eh ?" You squirm as he continue, now more aggressive as he grips at your hips as you whimper and moan out "F-Fuck, yes I missed you Simon" he chuckles lowly sucking your cunt and juices heavily seeing you were close, but instead he pulled away right when you were about to hit it. Your eyes were begging, lips trembling, thighs shaking from the closeness of your climax "S-Simon...let me cum" he shushes you grinning down at you as his dog tags hand down on his neck brushing between your breasts, his hand gripping your thighs as he presses his bulge onto your wet throbbing aching cunt "Negative, not till you beg properly" he had an eyebrow raised at you as it made you ache more feeling him grinding against your cunt, you knew what he meant and your cunt was aching for it "Please fuck me..." You let out a pant, as your eyes looked into his whimpering as he presses himself more into you "Oh yeah ? You that desperate for my cock, kitten ?" You moan out only able to nod your head as this made him press harder onto you gripping your neck "Use your words, kitten, or I'll leave you aching" Eyes locked into his, he was hungry, it was like a game to him making you beg and ache for it "Yes ! I want you to fuck me hard !" You pant out as you rock your hips back on him, he was pleased with this smirking down at you "Much better" he says gruffly, working his pants down as your mind was frantic and busy trying to settle your lust, your felt his throbbing tip hitting your wet entrance. He was fully erected, stroking it up and down against your clit, making you squirm and pant "Put it in Simon" you gave an impatient whimper as he cocked his head slightly raising a brow still teasing your clit "Nah, not until you ask properly" he was torturing you and your body was screaming for him to push inside you as you bit down on your lips saying softly "....please", within a second he was already pushed inside you. Your body immediately coils as his large cock forces your walls to spread around his hard shaft. He grunts feeling your walls tighten around him as he begins to set a pace thrusting in and out of you. With each thrust your walls clench and making the juices coat his cock as he groans out looking down at you "Fuckin' 'ell you gotten tighter" he keeps going making your cunt spread to his size, his hand still around your throat with the other gripping your ass as he pushes himself into you hovering over your body.With each thrust, your body shakes from the impact, letting out a panting moan. Simon keeps working your cunt making it more easy to slide in and out, his cock throbbing inside you feeling your insides swallow him whole. He looks down at you as you're in utter bliss from the pleasure, a long awaiting passion you've yearned for when he returned.
He pushes harder and deeper making every thrust count. You were close, he could feel the way your legs trembled and your eyelids grow heavy. After a few thrusts you both hit your highs, you climaxing first as your body shook from the release with Simon continuing his pace. Until he reached his high burying himself deep into you as you both hold each other. His forehead pressed onto yours as he looks at you “Was I easy enough for you kitten ?” He chuckles as you whack him playfully “Shut up” both laughing until you fell asleep in each others arms. The morning sun peeking through your window as you both slept contently.
Two Weeks Go By...
Probably one of the most relaxing last two weeks Ghost has had in a long while. Hearing nothing from Laswell or Price was almost refreshing. Besides the normal annoyance from Johnny sending him random messages about his day to day.
Soap : Yo LT !!! HOWS IT GOING ?!
Ghost: Was going nice.till you messaged.
Soap: You don't mean that LT ! Bet you lonely and miss cracking your lame war jokes.
Ghost: I'm not lonely.
Soap: oh ? You with company these days ? Who ? Why wasn't I invited ?!
Ghost: You ask too many questions.
Soap: alright. I get it I get it, keep sulking by your lonesome. See you soon LT !
Ghost: Hope not.
Ghost snorts, he somewhat meant it, at the same time he was glad Johnny was doing alright. He glances up from his phone looking up at you as you were wearing his shirt. The way his big shirt nearly passed your thighs as you were cleaning up in the kitchen after having a lovely breakfast together, you took time off from work to fully spend every day with him which he was glad, it was nice just being home in each other's presence, with of course the normal "activities"... A vibration snapped his attention back to his phone seeing an unknown id number calling. He almost gripped the phone tightly as he knew who that could be. He answered. It was Price.
Aye Ghost...I know I promised you a longer vacay but...we need you back at base. Laswell found a lead. Apparently the cartels are up to something big.
Part of him clenched his jaw as he darted his eyes into your direction before standing up from the couch making his way to his office. Closing the door behind him so you didn't hear the conversation.
When do I need to leave...?
This question he dreaded asking as he stood in the center of his office near the door. That's when he could hear Price puff out a smoke and give a heavy sigh, as Ghost could imagine him smoking his cigar as if he were in front of him. Just hearing him give a sigh he could tell he wasn't going to like the answer.
Tonight...I'll send a heli to pick you up at midnight. We'll meet at base to discuss a strategy. This lead....it's big Ghost. Bigger than anything we've gotten in a while. Could finally figure out why the cartels are smuggling shit through the borders of Iran.
Hearing this, made Ghost clinch his fist, as he pressed his head back against the door. He hated having to tell you he's leaving again, as he hoped he'd have more time with you Why can't I fuckin have time...now I have to fuckin tell y/n out of the blue I got called away for a mission, and just up and leave...
'right Price...I'll be there. Ghost out.
The line ends...
He glances at his phone for the longest time. Just when he thought he could live in peace he gets dragged right back into hell again. This was his life, he knew that when he joined 141, there was no going back the minute he took on being Ghost. He thought that was the only life he could live until he met you... As much as he knew how understanding you were, sometimes he felt he didn't deserve you. The thought of you always waiting, never knowing what he does or when he'll return, must weigh down on you every waking day. Prior to you two meeting, even though he never told you exactly what he does, you were very aware and understanding to always having to be called away. For all you knew, you only knew he was in the military. That barely was enough to scratch the surface of what he truly does. He doesn't know how long he was staring for, until he heard a gentle knock against the door he was leaning on....until he heard your soft voice speak...
"Simon ? Everything okay ?" You noticed his body tense from the kitchen as you didn't know the nature of it. Watching as he shut the door to his office room as you frowned slightly. Made you worry when he shut himself into a room, you could only presume it meant something was wrong and he didn't want you to hear or know about it. However, how could you not ? He's all you worry about whether here or not. The only family you have, and someone you love dearly. As you look at the closed door in front of you, you notice the doorknob turn as you stand back slightly to see Simon's eyes, how they almost seemed...hollow. He seemed to no longer try to hide anything from you lately as you have already mentioned how much it upsets you seeing him actually show emotions made you ache. You say in a soft voice "Your base called....?" He just looks down at you eyes squinting a little, as he seems to wince when you mention his job. Nodding your head and biting your lip trying to hold back tears Shit...don't cry in front of him. It'll make him feel worse... "um, when do you leave ?" Seeing him seemed to flinch and clench his phone tighter, you were going to make a joke about him going to squeeze the life out of it but decided against it because your voice ran away when he answered "Have to leave tonight..." Felt like the whole roof came crashing down on you, and like a waterfall your tears came down gushing.
Simon knew this would hurt you and he hated it. Seeing you squirm yet already know the inevitable was just your facade to stay strong. Yet he knew...your eyes always seem to never focus, brows furrow, and lips purse when it runs through your mind and makes you sad. In a second before a tear came down, he had his arms around you gently, enveloping you, holding you. "'S alright pigeon let it out..." He hated this...it made him want to burn everything to the ground. All these missions and leaving you. He wish he could just walk away from it all..Mumbling softly stroking the back of your hair "I'm sorry pigeon...I thought we had more time too, but you know I'll always come back" you sniffle burying your face into his chest taking in his scent "I-I know...but still. I never know when you'll be back. What you do...and God Simon...I don't want to have someone from the military come to our door and tell me you're - " your voice hitches with sobs. As a doctor, you've watched tons of patients weep for their loved ones when you've had to announce a coding. It never was easy. Or telling someone they have something incurable and that they only have so long to live. You could look patients, their families, loved ones, and friends in their eyes and tell them this...yet the thought of being on the other end scared you most.
Simon lifts your chin looking deep into your eyes, his other hand caressing your cheek to wipe your streaming tears. "I know I can't promise you time...but..." He breathed through his nose waiting to have your attention which he does as you sniffle blinking your eyes to stop the tears...heart wrenching to watch "I swear. I'll always come back, bleeding or broken..." He gives you a soft smile, one that he sees is returned with yours. The twitch of your lips wanting to but giving up. "I know no matter what state I return in... I'll always make my way back to you." This gets a more softer smile from your lips, one that makes his heart beat hard and put into memory when things are tough in the field. "Atta girl.." stealing a loving kiss from your lips, you return with same passion and love one he deeply will remember until he returns. For now...he held you close until he couldn't.
Two hours before departure...
With his balaclava back on, leather jacket and cargo pants, duffle bag in hand. Simon...Ghost was pulling on his skeleton gloves about to leave. You came out of the kitchen with a box of his favorite tea bags, handing it to him, as he smiled under the mask. "Thanks, pigeon." Glancing at you, your eyes were red from crying yet you were trying to keep a stoic face, he thought to himself Tougher than my rookies... He leaned down kissing the top of your head as you look up into his eyes giving a smile. "Promise you'll message me when you can ?" You gave a pleading look, those eyes which would make him cave in. "I promise lovie, don't forget to get some food...and..." she sighs out waving her hand dismissively, one no one in his unit would have lived to see another day had they interrupted him. "I know...don't come walking home late alone. "Don't want no bloody douché looking at my girl"" as you give off the best British accent of Simon, giving a smirk. He chuckles "Pigeon, I love you, but that accent is shitty" you smirk "Learn from the worst I guess." He raises a brow at you as he thinks to himself Cocky little thing, should've called her hen instead. Picking up his duffle bag and truck keys, he lifts up his mask to give you one finally kiss, making it deep as possible before tearing away.
"I love you Simon..."
"Ya...I love you too y/n"
Thanks for Reading !
(I'm pretty sure I sent this but it mightve not went through, if it did then ignore this one & I'm sorry!)
Pervy! 141 getting jealous at how much time you're spending with Graves. Always going to him to talk about your new tech, going to him for advice or company :( Why not them? They're more capable than he is! They deserve your attention too! Not fair >:(
So they death stare Graves from across the room as you're oblivious to them staring at you rambling behind the computer to him about some code you're figuring out or something else you're working on. You notice him staring at something not paying attention to what you're talking about so you lightly hit his shoulder, and he moves closer and wraps his arm around you, saying "Sorry darlin', repeat that for me?" All the while 141 is just fuming at how you're warming up to him. Price eventually calls you for sparring or something- anything to get you away from Graves.
LMAO YOU'RE TOTALLY RIGHT
They'd get very pissy if you paid attention to any other man tbh (Pervy!141 can barely stand themselves) but Graves just....rubs them specially wrong :((
They can see clear as day, they're not stupid. Graves is extremely charismatic and confident and HE KNOWS IT, utilizes his southern charm to woo you and truth be told it works :(( Sure he's cocky, sometimes overconfident and arrogant but at the same time he's loyal, charming, gentle and so so protective, especially towards you, his favorite little hacker girl but he can't help it! :(( You're still so young, inexperienced and kind and sweet and he can't just not feel attracted and charmed by you. You're so intelligent, he calls you his 'little tech-wizard' and he smirks and chuckles at the bashful shy look you always get whenever he praises you, makes his cock twitch in his pants and imagines what other noises you'd make as he praises you in bed as you moan and squeal, promises of making you a mama, making you into his pretty little wife growled into your ear-
But the thing is-Philip is no stupid man, otherwise he wouldn't survive as long as he did. He sees the way Task Force 141 looks at you and how they look at you when you're with him; almost growling and snarling like a pack of wolves, possessive over their mate but Philip is no pussy and isn't scared of them, even more so he's pissed knowing that they want to take you from him >:(
It's a really good thing that you're in the more technical/intelligence field so that he can easily sweep you away under the excuse of going over some files or other tech stuff with you, the perfect way of talking with you and getting closer much to the displeasure of 141.
Even right now as you're going on about some files to be hacked he'd looking over your shoulder and staring right into Price's eyes as he and the rest of his little assemble stare daggers at him and barely hold themselves from charging forward and taking you from him, but that ain't gonna happen, not on his watch and Philip has to restrain himself from scowling as he's getting territorial himself.
The one thing that takes his attention is you and your big, concerned doe eyes when you look at him and ask him what's wrong and if he'd listening to you. The blonde man just shakes his head and smiles, southern charm coming forward full force and tells you 'not to worry 'bout that darlin'' before coming even closer to you, putting his heavy arm around your shoulders and leaning into you, pretending to be interested in whatever boring files there are and instead focusing on you as you flush and try to keep your voice from stuttering.
ON the other hand, 141 is gritting their teeth so hard it's a wonder that they're not cracked yet, fuming about that slimy American keeping your from them >:(
you're a storm
simon ghost riley x f!reader (call of duty)
summary: because we're friends. are we? don't see a queue of other people putting up with your shit, ghost.
warnings: brief mentions of smut, p in v. friends to something close to a relationship (this is ghost). somewhat moody ghost.
dedicated to @theashfallx who deserves a slab of softness and tattoos.
Just like the day you'd first appeared.
You’d been drenched in it all, baptised for the introduction—droplets falling from your sleeve as you said your name, Price hanging back.
Your credentials had been told to them all a month ago. Not really asking if any of them minded, more telling them all. More him, than the others.
He supposed he’d do the same if he were in Price’s position.
Now, pellets hammered against everything they could, including the single-glazed window of his room. It sounded like it was hitting tin than glass, oddly reminding him of you—your talks of caravaning with your family or thin sheets and watching storms out across a sea.
You’d shared it with him once. Your eyes all transfixed on the lightning in the distance. Hands cupped around a mug that was no longer steaming in the centre of the place they were bunkered down in.
When’s the last time you slept?
When was the last time you did, Lieut?
Not L.t. Not lieutenant. Some shorthand version you called him, simply because.
You who was now avoiding him because of his chosen silence. Because words had caught on the back of his teeth. His fingers not quite quick enough before you’d left him alone.
He used to like being alone, but somewhere between your rambling and lying next to him, you changed it. Changed him.
It’s the sole reason he’d stepped out. Tired of the four walls of his room, seeking a new space rather than any sort of conversation.
After all, he despised words. He preferred orders. Something concrete, not argued against. Enjoyed the unspoken ones shared between nods and occasional glares.
Ghost somewhat tolerated (liked) Johnny, sometimes even Gaz.
But you were the anomaly—the difference. He didn't tolerate you, he secretly wanted you. Wanted a smile, a laugh. Happy and content with just that.
No one knew—not even you—that sometimes you managed to tug a smile behind his mask. That your words from that day began painting themselves in his mind when he should be sleeping.
You share a lot for someone with a redacted file.
Well, I like to keep those poking around, guessing.
I’m not guessin’.
No. Guessing means you could be wrong, and you like to be right too much for that, don’t you, Ghost?
You had a habit of pulling things from him. Words. A snigger.
It was all as though your smaller hands had found some rope, pulling on it until he began giving them to you more easily than he did the rest. You didn’t know everything, but he assumed what you didn’t, you’d guessed.
He’s seen firsthand how you fill in gaps. The way you assess and ascertain. It’s there when you stare at maps, hearing briefings—practically spots the marker in your mind circling things to question.
It's why he's not sure how you didn't guess you mattered to him.
How that you couldn't see.
He hears a clap of thunder, somewhere in the distance. Thankful it's a short walk to the canteen, the air thick with the scents of mossy earth and dirt before he’s met with the aroma of food and too many bodies trying to stuff themselves before lights out.
Not you, though.
Ghost watches you slip out through the opposite doors. Across tables and too many bent heads for him to get to with any sort of quickness.
He smirks, if only to himself.
Watching as barely a head lifts from the rest of your comrades and table at your exit.
But then, if they’d been paying too much attention, the gig would have been up a while ago. The secret out. There would have been opinions poked in the holes of their tryst—questions hurtled that had no answers either of you wished to confront.
He didn’t have friends, but he did have you.
Some scrappy thing which didn’t like to sleep, didn’t like to lose—and had the most stunning eyes. They seared into him even when surrounded by paint, cheeks smothered in mud and lashes clotted with sand. Burned a hole right through him that no amount of time would heal.
It didn’t help they found him often. Practically sought him, landing on him as though there weren’t others who deserved it.
Then he gained your sarcasm. Your whispered thoughts and soft smirk.
At some point between annoyance and admiration, you stepped over the line into friendship. He kept his eye on you outside of being your lieutenant; you checked on him for reasons he didn’t understand.
If you get lonely at home, my address is in your phone.
I don’t have a phone.
Ah yes, the very secret thing at the back of your second drawer isn’t a phone, Ghost.
He’d considered it: texting.
Because we're friends.
Don't see a queue of other people putting up with your shit, Ghost.
He'd almost called, merely to check in. Not wanting to visit or any real company, just the sound of your voice to convince him that you’re alive—that you hadn’t slipped in the shower or fallen into a sleep you’d never wake from. That you weren't hurt.
Ghost never called, didn't send a thing. Because it meant something if he did. Meant he cared, meant he’d latched—two things he tried desperately not to do.
And then, a new line was crossed. One jumped over because of circumstances the two of you hadn’t prepared for.
Your stubbornness and foolishness caused a blade to lodge in your thigh in a takedown—maroon flowing from around it, beginning to spread. Your radio message made something drip down his spine, his blood cold before Ghost managed to hack up gruff orders that fell from his tongue like lava.
The metal was still sticking out when he found you, all unmoved from your leg, a half-smile plastered across your cheeks.
He's knocked out, not dead.
Don't care, le—
I didn't take it out, Ghost. It's better I don't, right?
Let me see.
You almost don't let him. And while you’d seen his face, his hands had still shook as he slipped the gloves from his fingers, touching the edges of ripped fabric and hating the sounds of your whimpers.
It's only as he lifted his eyes, his chin, did you kiss him. Right over the mask. Before he can question, before he can surrender, your head rips back, eyes brimming with tears you refuse to let fall.
Had to, just in case.
None of that, alright?
Those three words don’t come out easily, almost clotting in his throat like scarlet does around your wound.
Lift it up. Your mask.
He’s not sure why he did.
Why he bent to such a request—an order, but he did. No sooner is it over his nose does he feel chapped lips against his, softly moving, desperately seeking something. A moment, a chance. He isn’t sure and never asks. He just tastes you, the happiness that lives within, mixed with the desert, iron and somehow, even bleeding profusely, hope.
You kiss better than I thought, Lieut.
It was a month later before you brought it up. Dangled it in front of him, the chance to do it again—to kiss you, to do more than kiss.
He’s human. And only a fool would say no to someone as gorgeous as you. Someone good, talented, full of fire and light that could, if you tried, bring him to his fucking knees.
Which he supposes you did, ironically.
Your leg hooked over his shoulder, tongue lapping up your want as your hand grabbed fistfuls of his hair. He was praying to you, and you were whimpering a hymn compiled of his name.
You both cross a new line together moments later, the final one. The one harder to come back from and pretend never happened.
Because then he knew how it felt to have your thighs on either side of his hips. To brush his fingers against your cheek and wipe the tears from coming on his tongue all away as he eases himself into you.
Ghost knows how your hand feels clasped around his forearm as his cock sinks into you. How your nails dig into the ink on his skin, secretly hoping it leaves a similar mark.
So big. Too—
You can take it.
I can—I will.
I know. Know you will, sweetheart.
Then it became a habit.
You became a habit.
You're both heaven and a misdemeanour. Something he craved but knew he shouldn't let himself enjoy. Even if he did—whenever he could.
Ghost runs his teeth along your collarbone, and leaves welts under your uniform. He presses your cheek against cold walls, snaking his hand under the waistband of your trousers and standard-issue underwear, making you mew.
You’d do better with someone else—be far better suited to someone more open. Someone who’ll let you have more than scraps when night falls and will sit next to you on a canteen bench and nudge their knee against yours.
Ghost won’t do that, but Simon might.
That's what he clings to, that Simon could be enough.
Even if all of him have been falling for you, all unbeknownst to him until it's all he thinks. Having studied every curve of your body, taken note of each whip of your sharp tongue and marvelled secretly at how your brain thinks when challenged.
It took him a while to see the brains behind the big eyes and the smirking lips. Now, it’s all he sees.
He sees both a capable soldier and the person who has had their lips around his cock. The person who has laid in his sheets, staring up at him, mouth parted as you moan; the one who’s rolled their hips against his tongue, pleading for more as your fist clamps around a sheet.
Friends don’t…. do what we do, though.
Suppose they don’t.
What are we, then?
He didn't answer, and so you didn't push.
It stung the silence. It worsened when you dressed, when you said goodnight before the lights are even out.
You pulled away after that. And he felt it instantly. The draught of you not being beside him, your body not being curled around his before the sun rises—your laugh not peppering his ears.
Mostly, he found it torturous that your eyes don't land. Your snark swallowed, never meeting the air, never greeting him.
He tried to shake it, even if he beguns to feel the weight of the words he should have said. The ones he has thought for a while, the ones he feels. It not mattering, always coming back to the same thing: it’s easier to show than to tell.
It’s why he’d let you map his past with the pads of your fingers rather than tell you the gruesome truth. That he lost so much, it’s hard to ever want again. He suspects you can tell, just from how your eyes land on him, when your hands feel the deeper ones—the ones who make him see flickers of how they were caused behind his eyelids.
Ghost knew he’d fallen, having descended into want and affinity before you'd left that night. It consumed him in the time that followed.
Too many cold showers and anger-fuelled stares, before he truly acknowledges the ball is in his court. Before he lets the fact, he doesn’t want to rot away alone anymore but rather live for someone to fuel him to speak up.
He considers ordering, demanding.
Instead, he beckons. Fingers wrapping around your elbow, ignoring your eyes, flicking from the corridor ahead to him until the two of you are safely inside the four walls of his room.
Then, he pours it out. Mask ripped from his face, lips burning words against yours. It’s different, fuelled by passion than relief—not soft, but not aiming to conquer the other.
He buries himself in you differently, easing himself in—running his teeth along your jaw until he’s kissing whispered words to your ear.
“I know…” you whisper fingers curled around his neck.
You say it as though you’ve heard his unspoken confession somewhere else. Like he’s left the script somewhere, and you know the act that's about to follow.
“Show me,” you add. "Show me you want me, Simon."
And he does.
Driving himself in and out in long, slow strides. He feels the feather-like touches over his back, the way your breath dances along his chin and neck. The lamp in the corner is the only light source, forcing your pupils to expand until they’ve almost swallowed the colour he admires and hopes to name.
Ghost finds only his reflection in them—staring into wide and hopeful eyes. Seeing himself back in them, able to glimpse a person who isn’t a collection of shards, but someone almost whole.
an: i was listening to some moody music.
how you met:
simon 'ghost' riley met you at a bar he frequently visited with the men when they were off deployment. you were sat at the bar surrounded by a bunch of your lady friends, drinking and chatting, when suddenly your eyes met his. you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, captivated by the masked man. simon continued to look at you, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear and swig your drink before ordering another one, giggling with your friends. you thought about walking over to the masked man, thought about introducing yourself, but you decided against it. he probably always gets females throwing themselves at him. soap had noticed the object of simon's stare and smirked before whispering "why don't you just go over and say hi."
plucking up the courage, simon downed his whisky before slowly, and unsurely, making his way over to you. he was half-way there when he noticed your friend watching him before bending over to you and whispering something. you turned your head to look at simon, smile lighting up your face. he thought about turning around and cutting his losses, but you stood up and walked the remainder of the way, meeting him. "hi," you said softly, holding your hand out. "i'm y/n."
"simon," he replied, taking his hand in yours and shaking it. "but you can call me ghost."
"ghost huh?" you asked with a tipsy giggle. "i like that."
you sat at the other end of the bar for the rest of your time at the bar, talking with simon. when you had to go, you pulled a tiny notepad out of your handbag, scribbling your number on it and giving it to the man infront of you. "text me," you whispered, before turning around to meet up with the rest of your friends and leaving the establishment. simon looked down at the piece of paper with your number on it and he hoped that it was legitimate.
könig met you at a supermarket. he was shopping for the essentials and wasn't looking where he was going, when all of a sudden his shopping trolley ran into yours. "verzeihen sie mir," he whispered, looking at you apologetically.
"huh?" you asked, tilting your head.
"forgive me," he translated, a shy blush creeping up on his cheeks as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"it's okay, happens all the time," you smiled politely. your words put könig at ease and he felt like he could finally breathe. "are you german?" you asked, taking note of the german language used upon his apology.
"austrian," he corrected you quietly.
"sorry," you responded, a blush now spreading across your cheeks. "do you come here often?" you asked. könig nodded, unsure of what exactly to say. his face was flushed red with embarrassment but he watched as you continued to grab your shopping items off the shelves, occasionally looking over to him. "it's a good supermarket," you said randomly, trying to make small-talk with the man who loomed over you. "as far as supermarkets go anyway."
the man chuckled and nodded, "ja, as far as supermarkets go," he repeated.
"i've always wanted to learn german," you admitted, just letting your brain do all the talking as the two of you began walking through the aisles together.
"i could teach you," he said.
your eyes lit up, glistening with excitement. "really?" the man nodded in response. "my name is y/n by the way," you said, realising you had never told him your name.
"könig," he replied.
"would you... like my number?" you asked sheepishly, looking könig in the eyes. the man nodded, face still flushed with embarrassment as he realised you were coming on to him. you smiled softly and ripped a piece of paper off the bottom of your shopping list and wrote down your number. nervously, you handed him the piece of paper. "text me?" you asked, hopefully.
"i will liebe," he said as he took the piece of paper off of you and stuffing it into his pocket. and with that, you said your goodbyes and went off to purchase your groceries.
johnny 'soap' mactavish, like simon, met you in a bar. you were sitting by the bar all alone, seemingly downing your sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol. from the moment johnny had walked in, he had a feeling that he should keep an eye on you. it was obvious by your red-eyes that you had been crying, and johnny didn't want any of the men in the bar trying to take advantage of you. he watched as the bartended poured you drink after drink and admired the way in which you downed them.
it wasn't long before someone was stalking over to you, starting up a conversation. johnny felt himself tense as the man placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. he drowned out all conversations in the bar and focused on yours.
"you should come home with me," the man slurred to you.
you shook your head and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes as you spoke, "no thank you."
"aweh why not sweetie?" the man continued to press.
"i'm happy here," you replied. "besides, i'm waiting for someone." it was obviously a lie, and the man bothering you knew that.
"i can wait until whoever you're waiting for shows up," the man slurred, taking a seat awfully close to you.
"that's not needed," you said, shifting away as the man came closer to you.
johnny did what a real gentleman would do. he couldn't sit back and let this drunken creep harass you. so, he pushed up his chest and stormed over to you a smile on his face. "there you are! i'm so sorry i'm late."
you whipped your head round to face johnny who sent you a subtle wink, letting you know he was only trying to help you out. you breathed a sigh of relief and stood up. "don't worry about it," you replied. "sorry, i have to go."
you turned to the drunken man next to you who simply grumbled in response as you walked away with johnny. you sat down across from johnny in the booths and smiled at him. "thank you so much," you said, taking a deep shaky breath as you looked at him.
"don't mention it," johnny replied, taking a sip of his drink. "truth be told i've had my eye on you since i walked in. thought someone was bound to try and bother you at some point."
you felt your face heat up at his comment, a warmth spread across your stomach knowing he was looking out for you. "i'm y/n," you smiled, mimicking his actions and taking a sip of your drink.
"johnny, but you can call me soap," he smirked. "let me walk you home?"
"i'd like that," you smiled. you and johnny stood up and made your way out of the bar and to your home. when you finally made it to your apartment, you turned to johnny with a look of appreciation across your face. "thank you."
"it's no worries," he smiled back at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"would you like to come in?" you asked awkwardly, unsure of the social etiquette for people who protect you from drunken men in the bar.
johnny shook his head "no it's alright, i better head home myself, but thank you."
he was about to turn around and walk away when you opened your mouth, "johnny," you said. "would you, maybe, like my number?" johnny couldn't stop the smirk spreading across his face. he hadn't done all of this just to get your number, but he wasn't going to say no. he fished his phone out of his pocket and passed it to you. you texted yourself and handed him back the phone before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "thank you again," you smiled.
"don't mention it," he replied. "have a good night, y/n."
"have a goodnight, soap."
john price met you at a coffee shop. you were the barista, working behind the counter and serving people their coffee and food. this was a particular coffee shop john had never been too before, and he wondered why. the atmosphere inside was overwhelmingly beautiful. he waited in line to get his coffee and when it was his turn, you looked at him with sparkling eyes that made his breath get caught in his throat. "what can i get for you today?" you asked sweetly, your voice dripping with honey. john's mind went blank momentarily before he snapped himself out of it, ordering a coffee to-go. you nodded with a smile and quickly made his order. with that you bid him a goodbye, not expecting to see him again.
but john returned. not only was the coffee possibly the best he's ever had, but he had to admit that he thought you were beautiful and the main reason for his constant return. he became a regular at the small coffee shop, had learnt your name was y/n and that you were the manager there. on this particular day, john was feeling bold, very bold. he walked in and greeted you with a smile "good morning y/n."
"good morning john," you smiled back, waving as you made the other peoples orders. when you got to him, you leaned over the counter, "what can i get you today john, the usual?"
"yeah," he replied, biting his bottom lip before adding. "with a side of your number."
you chuckled and began making his order, writing your phone number on the side of his cup. when you had finished john's order, you passed it to him. "here you go, a regular with a side of my number."
john was slightly taken back that his lame pick-up line worked, but took the coffee nonetheless. "thanks y/n, you'll be hearing from me soon," he said before turning on his heels and leaving.
"i'll hold you to that!" you called out with a smile as he left.
phillip graves met you at a charity event. you were general shepherd's daughter and were the co-host of a charity event hosted by your father. when phillip walked in, his eyes automatically found you. you were dressed lavishly and stood by your fathers side, thanking everyone for coming as they entered.
he walked over to you and your father, making himself known. "general shepherd," he said, nodding towards your father before turning his attention to you. "and you are?" he asked politely, turning on his southern charm.
"my name is y/n," you smiled, holding your hand out for him to shake. "i'm general shepherd's daughter."
phillip was slightly taken back by this, but took your hand and pressed his lips against the top. you blushed lightly as he kissed your hand. "my name is phillip graves," he introduced himself, slowly putting your hand down to rest at your side.
"lovely to meet you," you smiled softly.
"the pleasure is all mine darlin'," he whispered back and with that, he waltzed off to mingle with the crowed.
throughout the night, phillip continued catching your eye. either you caught him staring, or he caught you staring. before you knew it, you were in a game of cat and mouse as phillip tried to get you alone. eventually, phillip caught you, grasping your arm gently and pulling you onto a balcony. "hi phillip," you breathed innocently, looking up at him through fluttering lashes.
"hey gorgeous," he smirked with a wink. "how's your night goin'?"
"as good as formal events can be," you replied with a slight laugh.
phillip smirked at your sense of humour and let go of your arm. "you look lovely," he said, gazing into your eyes.
"you don't look so bad yourself, mr graves," you replied flirtatiously. "i must head back inside now but here," you said holding out a napkin. "i thought you'd corner me eventually. here's my number."
"why thank you darlin'," he grinned, taking the napkin and admiring the numbers scrawled over it before placing it into his tuxedo pocket.
"hope to hear from you soon, phillip," you smiled before turning around and walking back into the charity event, leaving phillip alone on the balcony.
a/n || hey guys, i hope you liked this first little cod scenario, there'll be plenty more where this came from. requests are currently closed but due to financial difficulties my commissions are open (here) - so if there's something you'd like to see, feel free to send in a commission!
simon gets his aftercare, reader pervs on his butt, fic ends with spanking (first part)
They're like two perfect, rounded bongos.
The thought is unfiltered and unabashed as you stare at Simon's butt with a laser-focused attention span you rarely utilize. You wanna give 'em a little smack. Watch them jiggle under your palm. Maybe even give a little loving squeeze to them, too. Gotta show a bit of love to your man's assets after all.
You stare even harder at the tempting cheeks just inches from your hands.
Just one little pinch wouldn't hurt--
"Ah-wha--?" You blink and startle with a gasp, having to balance yourself again, sitting on the back of Simon's (equally tempting) thighs.
You tear your gaze away from his butt and slowly look further up Simon's prone body to meet his half-lidded eyes staring back at you over his shoulder.
"What are you doin'?" Somehow, he sounds both pouty and demanding at the same time. "You're supposed to be giving me a massage."
Guess you got a little too distracted by his butt.
"Sorry, Simon." You grin sheepishly, resuming your soothing rubs along his back, and a pleased sound rumbles from his chest as he closes his eyes again and rests his head in his arms. "You just relax, old man, I'll take care of you."
"Careful," he mumbles, not even opening his eyes, "I could easily switch our positions and continue 'massaging' you."
You chuckle a little despite the slight soreness you feel in your sides from laughing so much when Simon tickled you earlier. His threat to continue that 'massage' didn't scare you as much as it should have, but still, you promised him a massage in return for not tickling you (although you were already planning on giving him one even before that) and a massage he will have. Besides, you really did want to take care of Simon.
"You know, I've been told I'm good with my hands," you say conversationally, not thinking much about your words.
"Oh?" Simon opens one eye to peek at you over his shoulder. "And who said that?"
"Friend I went to school with," you answer, kneading his upper back and frowning when you notice him looking at you. "Hey, I said relax."
Grunting, Simon settles back into his arms, closing his eye. "Why would your friend say that?"
"I gave him a massage," you say as your hands dig into a slight knot in his back. "And when I'm done giving you a massage, you can compliment me too."
"Him?" Simon asks, sounding cheeky.
"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes playfully. "We were just friends and this was before I met you."
"Sure," Simon teases. "'Just friends' give each other massages like this."
"We were! And I never gave him a massage like the one I'm giving you! I lost a bet, so I had to give him a shoulder rub."
"Any other blokes you gave a handjob to?"
"Fuck's sake, Simon, don't say it like that!"
The man beneath you shakes with silent laughter, pleased with himself for referring to a massage that way. He must think he's so clever. Glancing down his body, your eyes lock onto his butt as a devious smile makes its way across your face. You know how to get him back.
Abruptly, Simon stops laughing, butt clenching under your palm. It doesn't even register that he's turned his head to look at you ominously, your attention occupied elsewhere.
Not even bothering to hide your snickers, you give his cheek a self-indulgent squeeze. So soft, yet so firm.
You glance back up to see Simon's narrowed gaze.
"Did you just spank me?" He speaks slowly.
You shrug and give his butt another little slap, watching it jiggle. "You gonna behave for me?"
"Try that one more time and I'll be the one spanking you."
"But what about your massage?" You give his other neglected cheek a playful slap.
"The massage can wait."
And before you have any time to react, Simon switches your positions, pinning you over his lap as his hand lands against your butt with a loud smack!
("Your friend was right."
"You are good with your hands."
"Does that mean you liked it when I spanked you?"
"Don't make me spank you again, you know what I mean."
"Don't deny it, I know you liked it."
"You're such a pain in my ass."
"Then I'll massage it out for you.")
141 and what their patient file looks like
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summary: This is what I imagine everyone's favorite pharmacist as well as medics see when they look at 141's medical file.
Based on this pharmacist and 141 interactions
pairing: Task Force 141 x medic!Reader
warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds, mention of substance use disorder and abuse
PMH - Past medical history - the total sum of a patient's health status prior to the presenting problem
FH - Family history - contributing family history, generally parents and siblings
SH - Social history - contributing social behavior and routine
a/n: not canon at all! this is just a reference for me
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Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')
Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)
Blood type: O+
Extensive physical injuries
21+ stab wounds - 2 required antibiotics for recurrent infection
9x bullet wound - 5x in the extremities, 4x in the chest (no perforation of vital organs), healed without complication
5x abrasion collar - 1 near right eyebrow became infected following medical eval and stitches
3x diagnosed concussion
Previously evaluated for tinnitus and hearing loss
Father - deceased at 76 from liver disease - 50 pack years, mycardial infarction (x2)
Mother - deceased at 84 due to chronic heart failure (CHF) -Glaucoma, asthma, CHF
Sister - Sports induced asthma, hypothyroidism
Negative family history of diabetes, hypertension, and cancer
Smokes - 30 pack years
Drinks regularly - 4-5 hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of whiskey occasionally
Physically active - Enjoys recreational activities such as hiking, swimming, and biking
Has 1 dog, currently under the care of pt's younger sister
History of monogynous long term relationships, currently single
Medication list + indications
Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection
Morphine 15mg + Ketamine 3mg - IV - Pain
Paracetamol 750mg - Pain
Buproprion SR 150mg - Smoking cessation - not-taking est 2004
Aspirin allergy - Reaction: hives and asthma - ONLY PRESCRIBE PARACETAMOL
No environmental, food, or animal allergies
Patient has denied smoking cessation options
Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')
Weight: 91 kg (200 lbs)
Blood type: O+
7x stab wound - 6 required antibiotics for recurrent infection, 2 MRSA resistant
2x bullet wound - 2x in lower extremities, healed with no complication
6x abrasion collar
2x broken collar bone - healed, with no complication
Lactose sensitivity - Recurrent IBS if ingested
Chipped first left molar following opening a beer with teeth
Father deceased at 68 due to heart failure - Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus, high cholesterol
Mother - Stage I HTN (hypertension)
Sister #1 - Postpartum depression, generalized anxiety disorder
Sister #2 - Elevated cholesterol/triglycerides
Brother - No known chronic health issues
Positive family history of diabetes and hypertension, but no cancer
Drinks regularly and heavily - 8-12 beers and 2-3 glasses of hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of scotch occasionally
Smokes socially - 5 pack years
Close relationship with family, has 4 dogs at home under the care of pt's mothers
Avid fan of The Glasgow Football Club
Medication list + indications
Clindamycin 300mg with ciprofloxacin 400mg - Infection
Amoxicillin/Clauvanic acid 625mg - Infection
Vancomycin 18mg/kg - MRSA resistant infection
Paracetamol 500mg - Pain
Morphine 15mg IV - Pain
Doxycycline 100mg - Acne discontinued in 2004
Insect stings - Observed anaphylaxis to childhood bee sting
Patient demonstrates medication non-adherence, counsel ESPECIALLY with antibiotics
Scored 6 on Alcohol use disorders identification test for consumption (AUDIT C)
Height: 1.86 m (6' 1'')
Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)
Blood type: B-
3x stab wound - healed, no complications
1x broken collar bone
2x broken femur
Diagnosed concussion - evaluated in Oct. '19
Father - Type 1 Diabetes, high cholesterol
Mother - Vitiligo, Stage 3 breast cancer
Positive family history of maternal cancer and diabetes, but no hypertension
Social drinker - 3-4 beers each weekend
Does not smoke
Physically active - Enjoys morning and evening runs
Enjoys spicy food and tries to introduce into diet
When on leave, enjoys attending concerts and music festivals
Medication list + indications
Piriteze 10mg - Allergic rhinitis
Fluticasone Propionate - 93 mcg/actuation - Allergic rhinitis
Paracetamol 500mg - Pain
Seasonal - Pollen and pet dander
β-Lactam allergy - Reaction: anaphylaxis evaluated in '19
Height: Weight: 1.93 m (6' 4'')
WeighT: 100 kg (220 lbs)
Blood type: AB-
Extensive cuts and scarring to entire body
4+ stab wounds - healed, no complications
Gun shot to lower abdomen - healed, no complications, evaluated in Nov. '22
13+ collar abrasion
2x broken nose
Childhood injury of broken tibia and large toe
Psych eval - History of depression and post traumatic stress disorder, childhood history indicates emotional and physical abuse
Father - status unknown Diagnosed alcohol use disorder
Brother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Substance use disorder
Mother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Hypertension, thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder)
Positive family history of hypertension, but no diabetes or cancer
Social drinker - 3-4 glasses of hard liquor each weekend
Smokes socially - 10 pack years
Physically active - Enjoys nightly walks
Psych eval - Other squad members act as his emotional support
Expressed interest in cats and tattoo art (FLAGGED: Further input and comments from other medical professionals would be appreciated)
Medication list + indications
Paracetamol 1000mg - Pain
Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection
Morphine 20mg + Ketamine 4.5mg IV - Pain
Mafenide acetate 5% topical - Antimicrobial, burn wounds
Fluoxetine 20mg twice daily - Depression - not taking est 2001
NKDA - No known drug allergies
No environmental, food, or animal allergies
Psych recommends evaluation of a pet, such as cat, for pt while on leave
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Can i request captain price and alejandro and ghost going phone shopping with their s/o : like i imagine they all have those old af phones and their s/o insisted on buying a new one for them cause the ones they have is from decades ago and are about to break or malfunction 😭 🤣
Summary: Headcanons for how Price, Alejandro, and Ghost would react to you trying to get them a smart/recent phone.
Characters featured: Price, Alejandro, and Ghost.
A/N: Hopefully you enjoy these headcanons. uwu ( Gif credit: xxx )
Despite him being able to use any tech on missions with ease, he can't bring himself to care enough to learn how to use most smart phones.
Price is the worst offender out of all of them.
He was used to simple flip-phone burners that were easy to discard in a pinch and replace just as quickly. Although, if he does manage to keep it for a while, it's clear the phone is built to last rather than focus on aesthetic appearance.
Has a chunky flip-phone that's nearly impossible to break. In fact, the only thing wrong with it is the display screen on the outside is cracked, but still functioning and displaying a picture otherwise. You'd suggest a case for him, but honestly? It probably doesn't even need one.
When he's home, you purposely message him when he's near you or in the room solely so you can hear his obnoxiously loud default ringtone. You think it's funny and he doesn't get the joke.
Needless to say you end up not even bothering to get this man a new phone. Knowing him, he'd only use it for contacting you and nothing more.
Is the most likely out of all of them to be convinced to get a phone from this decade, although he's very reluctant. He informs you that he'll never take it with him while out on missions. If anything, he'll only use it while off duty.
Even then, he won't be the type for social media or even taking pictures. He doesn't want anyone connecting him to you and something happening as a result.
Once you get him a phone he approved of, I can see him mostly using it for contacting you and playing games on it occasionally. Despises puzzle games similar to Candy Crush.
If it was safe enough, he'd also be the type to keep a picture of you tucked away in the back of his phone case. Not only showing you off as his phone background, but would have a transparent case showing off the physical photo he has of you as well.
I can see him as the type to enjoy games similar to Scrabble, etc. Maybe even the occasional trivia game as well.
Much more reluctant than Alejandro. You'd practically have to force him to accept a smart phone from you. Poor man just wants to make sure your safe and no one knows that you're connected to him.
Hm... probably wouldn't go all out on the latest smart phone and instead, would end up getting something similar to Price.
Extra durable flip phone that's still technically new and from this century, he'd argue that the entire time you two are shopping.
Also doesn't use it often. If anything, you're the only contact on that phone and he prefers to keep it that way.
Does not give in and get a case. Instead, he allows you to talk him into letting you pick out a single charm he can slip on. So long as it's vague and something solely known between the two of you, he'll put it on the phone.
COD with an S/O with a Voice Kink
Requested: Yes [I have a request, and it’s for the 141 bois, plus Alejandro and könig, please-okay, so, the bois with a S/O (preferably fem) who loves dirty talk? Like- they just have a huge voice kink too. 🤌🤌✨✨]
A/N: a bit short but I’m not feeling too good today and just wanted to get something out
Price knows exactly what his voice does to you, a smirk on his face as he leans in real close to your ear, making sure his accent is nice and deep as he whispers things into your ear. Sometimes it’s dirty stuff but most of the time it’s mundane things like him telling you the same orders as the others, or maybe even just him telling you how nice you look today. Whatever comes to his mind really, as he knows that, no matter what he says, you’ll be squirming for him.
Gaz has an inkling that you like his voice, but he doesn’t really get the full scope of just how much it affects your body. He’ll lean in close and whisper soft things against the shell of your ear, oblivious to how much of a mess it makes you, how you’re practically turning into a puddle at his feet from just his voice alone. He’ll make you so horny and pleasure drunk just by whispering to you and god does it kinda make you want to strangle him because HOW HAS HE NOT CAUGHT ON?!
Ghost is another one who knows exactly what his voice does to you. But unlike Price, he reserves using its effects on you for when you’re well behaved. When you’re good for him, his voice is right in your ears, telling you that you did such a good job, that he wants to reward you for doing exactly as he says. Oh and how you look when he pulls back, like he’d just fucked you ten times over. It’s definitely something that he enjoys seeing.
“That’s it, Love. Just like that.” Soap will whisper into your ear, his arms around you, his chest to your back as he guides your hands over his gun, showing you how to take it apart and put it back together. In case of an emergency he says, but it’s really just an excuse to get you close. Oh and how close you are, his breath puffing against your ear, his accent thick with want and making you practically melt, he always loved how his voice could do that to you. “God, ye’re just perfect, aren’t ya?”
Alejandro knows what he does to you, and he uses it to his advantage constantly. If he wants anything from you, absolutely anything, he knows that all he has to do is lean in real close and whisper “Can you do that for me, Mi Amor?” His hands on your cheeks, making sure that you can practically feel the vibrations from his voice.
König is oblivious to what his voice does to you and it absolutely drives you, especially when he holds you close and murmurs about how much he loves you in his deep sleepy accent, the edges of his voice a little gruff from just waking up, kissing up and down the back of your neck. He does pick up on your excitement though, and is eager to satisfy you.