#simon ghos riley fluff

[kruegerspillow]

ok now im just imagining the moment simon finds out that reader listens to boyfriend asmr.. gets a little jealous, a little sulky maybe, and the reader has to comfort him with extra kisses... what a cutie

holy shit i can totally see this?? like it would start off good-humored and when the realization hits he's just: (´＿｀。) ... sniff.

thinking about writing a little fic for this... where simon gets a bit grumpy when the both of you gets home from a night out and he realizes that you listen to those boyfriend asmrs (he'll definitely reject the fact that he's feeling a liiittle envious.) he would be more talkative around you btw. he'll check on you more often (don't get me wrong, he checks on you every second) and talk about his day if you ask him to!! he'll let you pamper him with kisses, 100%.

aand that's basically his way of proving that he's better than the voice of some random bloke in the internet.

[khioneee]

simon acts as santa for your kid.

he was supposed to be the stoic, no-nonsense one. yet here he was, fully committed to the role of santa claus, going above and beyond for your child during the holiday season.

simon took the elf situation very seriously. every night after your child went to bed, he’d sneak around, setting up elaborate scenes. sometimes the elf was ‘caught’ stealing cookies from the jar, with crumbs left strategically on the counter. other times, it was perched on a stack of books with a tiny note saying, ‘reading helps santa know who’s good!’

in the mornings, he’d watch with a barely contained grin as your kid ran through the house, excitedly searching for the elf. the look of pure wonder on their face was worth every second of effort.

‘make sure santa knows what you want,’ he’d say, guiding your child to stick their wishlist on the fridge. of course, simon would ‘check it’ later, leaving behind a trail of flour dusted across the floor to mimic snowy footprints.

‘santa’s magic snow,’ he whispered to your child the next morning, pointing out the tracks. ‘he must’ve had a look last night.’

your kid’s eyes went wide, practically sparkling. ‘santa was here?!’

simon nodded solemnly, his eyes twinkling. ‘he’s keeping an eye on you.’

come christmas morning, the stocking was overflowing, filled with everything from sweets to little toys. santa went overboard this year. your child laughed in delight, and simon, trying to stay ‘in character,’ muttered, ‘guess santa thinks you’ve been extra good, huh?’

late on christmas eve, simon climbed onto the roof with a set of sleigh bells in hand. with quiet stomps and the occasional jingle, he created the illusion of santa and his reindeer making their grand departure. from the safety of their bedroom window, your child peeked out, eyes wide, whispering, ‘i hear him!’

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at simon’s commitment as he carefully climbed back down, boots crunching in the snow.

simon made sure to devour the cookies left out for santa—crumbs and all—and drained the milk, leaving behind a handwritten note:

‘thank you for the treats! keep being good, and i’ll see you next year!’

your kid squealed with joy when they found the note in the morning, clutching it like a treasure.

that night, after all the presents had been opened and the excitement had finally quieted, you found simon by the fire, still in his santa suit, looking exhausted but satisfied.

‘you really went all out,’ you whispered as you leaned over to kiss him.

simon shrugged, his face softening in the glow of the holiday lights. ‘they’ll only believe in this magic for so long,’ he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair. ‘figured i’d make it count.’

you smiled against his lips, kissing him again, the warmth of his dedication making your heart swell.

‘mommy, why are you kissing santa?’

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c.10 preview.

simon riley x original character

abstract: hey this is Jude. you doing alright? you'd never guess who I saw! anyways, I'm almost happy in this chapter and then I'm angry again. I've been angry my whole life guys I swear. also, had a special someone with me that night, can you guess who my passenger princess was?

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Come a little closer, Cage the elephant.

Her eyes lingered on 'The Pilgrimage' which she kept as a souvenir from her Sherlock CIA experience with the Arash case. She fished out a lighter from her bag and opened the book in front of her. She liked reading it, she enjoyed it. She had never been much of a religious person, though she was raised catholic. She respected the idea of faith, how it guided people, how it made you feel less alone. She had a thought. A tiny one. A sneaky suspicion. The little urge to lurk. It was a little lightbulb moment, a cinematic sequence in which the music stopped and then violins started playing as she began to think.

'Hop in? I need to talk to you'. Her eyes were even a prettier colour in this light. They looked translucent. Her skin was shining and golden under the sunlight. 'Can it wait?' He tried to avoid getting in the car with her. Deeply unprofessional. Where did she want to take him anyway, couldn't they talk in his office? What was it she wanted to tell him. 'I'll take you back here when we're done, just a little ride’. She wasn't giving up. Am I being fucking kidnapped by you, Jude? Most guys wouldn't really complain to be honest, but still…

She turned towards him before he had a chance to open the door. 'I'm very sorry you had to witness that, I truly am.' She blinked a few times trying to hide her embarrassment. She messed up all her chances to get him to listen to what she had found now. 'It's fine', he said. His voice was soft. His hand was on the door handle but he wouldn't open the door yet. 'Okay… I'm sorry either way I shouldn't have… done all this.'

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[victoria-grimesss]

Ghost Headcanons ~SFW & NSFW~

masterlist

->Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

->Warning: MDNI pretty please!! smutttt, some fluff, romance, etc.

->A/N: giggling and kicking my feet

SFW:

He's a quiet, stoic, and serious man but somehow you worm your way into his heart and although he may have been annoyed at first, he had a feeling you were going to be an issue when you first met.

It was an intensely slow burn built up to your relationship filled with passed glances, touches that you wish were longer, and the sound of his commands lingering in your mind for longer than normal.

Eventually he asked you out, unconventionally. He marched right up to you after training, still drenched in sweat and asked you flat out. You accepted and from there grew something as incredible as it is intense.

100% scary guard dog privileges.

Walking at night is never scary when he’s next to you. His stare is enough to deter any wrongdoers, he walks on outside of the sidewalk.

He's quiet but don't mistake that for aloof. He's observant as all hell. Always watching out for you when you're out together. An absentminded action he says.

Not a big fan of PDA but he always has a hand on you at all times. Ushering you through a crowd he's got his hand on the small of your back guiding you.

He enjoys being seen with you, having you next to him and just being in your presence is all he needs.

He denies he gets jealous but when a guy who shows a little too much interest in you enters into conversation with you he'll come over just to puff up his chest and throw a heavily tatted arm around your waist. "A bit jealous Simon?" "Don't know what you're talking about love."

He has an insane amount of those mask that are strewn about everywhere, and they are all in a disarray of washed and unwashed.

He thinks it's cute when you put them on and mimic him, especially if you're not British and you mimic a butchered Manchester accent. It gets a laugh out of him.

Others adore the two of you, especially the rest of the 141. He has literal heart eyes for you, through his rough exterior he really does love you.

His love language is words of affirmation and actions. You'll wake up to some flowers and painkillers on the side-table after a particularly shitty day.

Even if he's in a hurry to get out of the door he will never miss the chance to give you a hearty kiss and tell you to have a good day.

He listens to classic rock, there's usually some form of it playing in the house, he doesn't like the silence due to the tinnitus from the field. The vibes are great in the house.

You can’t tell his mood over text AT ALL. He texts in short brief choppy sentences. He prefers phone calls.

Ex:

You: “don’t forget to take the meat out of the fridge when you get home, maybe swap the clothes from the wash to the dryer if you have time. I’ll be home around 6pm traffic shouldn’t be too bad. Insert story about your day.”

Him: 👍

Aggressively British, sometimes you don't even know what he said. You just stare at him. "Did you hear me love?" "I was questioning if those were actual words that just came out of your mouth."

Sometimes you wake up at 3am for water to see him eating a big portion of fries in just his boxers with just the dim light of a football match as a light source. You usually make eye contact once but say nothing then retreat back to the room. The first time you saw that you were convinced it was a fever dream.

Sometimes his jokes are worse than Price's. You laugh out of sympathy nonetheless. You're his #1 fan.

Speaking of Price, if you're on the team he won't let your relationship get in the way of his career or mission. You are on the team because you're capable and can handle the job at hand but he does keep close eyes on you just in case on risky missions. If you get hurt he blames himself. You reassure him it's just part of the job.

There was a visible tension between the two of you that was visible to the rest of the team before you got together. I mean Ghost stared at you a majority of the time when you weren't actively working. So when they saw the two of you coming out of the same room one morning it was a definite relief. "Oh for fucks sake it's about time!" "Shut it Johnny."

He either sleeps completely silently and still to the point you think he might be dead, to which to check on him and he just opens his eyes right away. You almost shit your pants. OR he snores like a train, this option is usually when he's safe at home with you and can relax.

He loves it more than anything when he can fall asleep on your chest with you combing your fingers through his hair. He swears he's never been more relaxed.

You never discussed children but you get small glimpses into dad actions when Soap is over to help Simon fix something that takes two. "Johnny are you daft? Hold the bloody flashlight straight I can't see fuck all with you shining it in my eyes." Soap is hysterical seeing him upset over a sink leak. "Yea yea sure LT." You just watch from afar, giggling.

NSFW:

He's intense, alluring, and dominant. He can last many rounds; he enjoys taking you every which way he can.

His voice.

He loves the effect it has on you, how he can pin you against a wall and simply stare down at you, drawing it out by raking his gaze from your lips and around your face not saying a work and just toying with you until he would utter a few simple words and have you weak in the knees. His ego is huge because he knows you find him irresistible.

Will come up behind you when you're in the kitchen, voice low and creeping right to your ear, low enough to hear the gravel. His hand would snake around you securing around your waist. All of your clothes end up on the kitchen floor, they look better down there anyway he said. "I'm a bit famished love, care if I take a bite?"

Confident in the bedroom, especially if you're vocal. He likes to hear how he makes you feel. In return he'll tell you exatly how you make him feel. "Gods love, you..fuck-fucking hell you're doing such a good job."

Sessions in bed are messy, hot, and sweaty. He plays dirty but matches what you give him. He won't degrade you, he respects you. But he is a tease.

Will tease the tip of it until you're begging and withering. "You want it say badly yea? Go ahead, tell me how badly you need it pretty girl."

His favorite positions would be doggy, missionary with your legs up around his neck or your ankles in his hands. He loves to see your reactions.

He finds himself sometimes lost in the moment, silent as he works on you. Eyelids heavy as he tries to commit this moment to memory, hands gripping you with fervor. His breath hot on your skin when he lowers his lips to your neck to leave his mark. "You're my good girl, such a good girl for me. Say it."

He may be dominant in bed but he lets you call the shots. If you need him and you're out at the pub just grab his arm and take him to the bathroom. Out on a late night date? His car is in the back of the parking lot, he's grabbing the keys and reclining the front seat. You've had sex in a supply closet once out of sheer desperation once.

Hates hates military galas, will really only interact with the 141 and some others if he has to but loves to see you all dolled up. His favorite part is smearing your makeup on the pillowcases afterwards though.

Shower sex is also an option, seeing you all soapy and wet really gets him going. Makes for easy cleanup afterwards too.

If you like his uniform he's more than happy to just bend you over and unzip the front of his pants. You’ve don’t it with the mask on more than once.

Gets off on going down on you. Could die doing it and die a happy man. He'll definitely get himself off while getting you off.

Enjoys a good blowjob every now and again, let’s you take the lead not a big head pusher unless you ask. He’ll do whatever you want.

Eye contact is a must. Missionary with your legs around his neck, and a hand around your neck making sure you know who's making you feel like this. "You love this don't you? Dirty girl."

If you're being a brat and he's had enough he'll just have you ride him, he'll put his hands behind his head and have you do all of the work until you get too tired to continue. You'll have to admit defeat. To where he'll take the reins by grabbing your hips.

If you have long hair he enjoys hitting it from the back and wrapping a majority of your hair around his fist and pulling just enough for you to make noise for him.

Definitely a mirror in your shared bedroom where he can sit you on his lap and you can both watch as you work yourself on him.

His eyes roll back in his head when he cums, his grip leaves marks. He enjoys finishing inside you, the closeness and intimacy makes his stomach burn in a good way but he’s all for pairing your ass or tits too. He’s not a picky man.

Aftercare king, although he likes to bask in the afterglow for a bit with you. You lay on his chest trying to catch your breath, the room is stuffy and warm and your heart is racing but you've never felt better. But after he cleans you up he'll come back with a good cup of tea to end the night.

tag: @chiharuthecatmom

[zyonsay]

Snowfall SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Summary: Watch duty has gotten much more interesting...

Reader: Genderneutral

Warnings: Disgusting fluff, Ghost is a softie

Now playing: 'Sex,Drugs, Etc.' by Beach Weather

AN: I HAVE RISEN FROM THE DEAD!! Jokes, but i really cant find any motivation to write at the moment. Then suddenly this came up and i thought why not make some people happy and write it down :P Honestly felt good writing again after such a long time. Also, Fun Fact: I wrote this whole thing in OneNote. Anyways, have fun with it!

It's a cold, crisp night. Snow had fallen over the last few days, a gentle blanket of white laying over the landscape. You and Ghost were on watch duty, holed up in an abandoned military watchtower.

Your legs dangle lightly as you sit on the outskirt of the watchtower, your eyes scanning the area. There were various warehouses and icy gravel roads to observe. Nothing much has happened besides the occasional fox or deer  passing by. You've joined the 141 only a few weeks ago as an assault rifle specialist and had only participated in two major missions. To a lot of people's surprise, Ghost had grown quite fond of you. He noticed how reliable you were, which was what initially drew him in. But the more often he got stuck on watch duty and patrols with you, the more he started appreciating your friendly, stubborn nature. You didn't seem scared like everyone else did, but you also didn't pry on him like some others tried to.

Even through his mask and balaclava, Ghosts breath formed small white clouds, like a dragon of some sorts. The snow under his boots crunched as he walked towards you and plopped down next to you.

He glances over at you, studying your profile. You looked focused, your sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn your head towards the man, a sweet grin on your lips. Ghost immediately whirled his head the other way, feeling embarrassed that you caught his usual stoic expression faltering. A light flush crept onto his cheeks, which you couldn't see but might've also just guessed by the way he averted his gaze. He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, but he can't help the light upwards tug of his lips. Even in this brutal weather you'd managed to make him smile.

Theres a moment of silence, only accompanied by the occasional croak of a crow or the creaking of old metal framework. Ghost looks back out into the distance, trying to distract himself. Very sneakily you gather some of the snow that had settled around you and with a quick movement you hurled it right at your Lieutenants face. He gasped at the sudden sensation, even if most of it was blocked by his mask. He blinks for a second, taken aback and then turns to look at you. "Oi, what the- " , he splutters, shaking off some of the snow that managed to spill through his mask. He glares at you for a moment, but there was no real anger in that. Perhaps only a bit of amusement. He shakes his head a bit more, trying to get the rest of the snow out.

Then, without a warning, he grabs a handful himself and tosses it right back at you. The powdery white mass plopped right against your face, a lot of it was luckily blocked off by your balaclava. You shake your head, laughing. "You're done for Simon." Ghost grins under his mask, watching the snow fall from your face, some small flecks still sticking to your skin. "Is that a challenge, Sergeant?", he retorts while gathering more snow in  his hand. "Yes, yes it is Lieutenant.", you bunch some snow to a ball. He lets out a low chuckle and rolls the ball of snow in his gloved hands. "Careful what you wish for, love.", he playfully warns with a prominent grin, even under his mask. "Are you threatening me?", you raise an eyebrow in faux offense. "What if i was?", his voice sounding gruff but his soft expression gives away the lightheartedness in his statement.

Swiftly, you attack. The snowball in your hand thunders towards Ghost, even if he wasn't all that far away. He narrowly ducked it and was quick to hurl his own snowball at you, hitting you right in the chest. Out of reflex you throw yourself against him, taking a handful of snow with you and rubbing it into his mask. He gasps while you wrestle him to the ground. "Got you." For good measure you scooped another handful into his face.

He looks up at you, small puffs of white escaping into the cold air. He can't deny that, you did get him. He could easily overpower you, but for now he was entranced by the sight of you straddling him, snow sticking to your balaclava. The weight and warmth of your body was welcoming and made his breath hitch. Bloody Hell, he thinks to himself at the scene at hand. Now that you've caught your breath, you realized that you were basically sitting in your Lieutenants lap, a light flush crept across your face. As realization dawns on you, a storm of emotions is set off in Ghost. His blood is running through his veins, hot and fast. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Ghost hesitates. He's still Lieutenant Ghost, professional and composed. Usually. He swallows hard, his normally distant demeanor dropping immediately. Part of him is telling him to pull away and maintain that professional distance, but the other part, that is admittedly winning, wants to pull you closer. Simon licks his lips, his voice thick with restraint as he speaks. "Sarge…"

You pull off your balaclava, tossing it aside. His eyes widen slightly as you expose your face to the cold breeze, your cheeks flushed and your hair messy. Your unguarded, raw expression makes his heart skip a beat. Ghost can't help it. He reaches up, his gloved hand shaking lightly, cupping your cheek. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. He takes a moment to study your face, memorizing each little spot and the curve of your lips. The part of him which was trying to keep his composure has now officially lost the battle. "You make it real hard to stay professional.", he murmurs. "I hope so.", you open your eyes again. You inch closer to his face, the only barrier between you is his mask and the balaclava underneath. With gentle fingers you tug on the black fabric.

Simon gasps softy, your touch sending small jolts of electricity through him. He feels his heart racing as you push up the balaclava, only enough to reveal his chapped lips and his chin, dusted with blonde stubble. He can feel your breath on his skin, only millimeters away. The anticipation is killing him, he can't wait any longer. He needs to feel you, to taste you. Without much of a warning, he pulls you closer, crushing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. A soft gasp escapes you as your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands rests on his chest, holding on as if your life depended on it. Ghosts mind is consumed by your taste, your warmth, the weight of your body on his. His hands wander up to your waist, holding you steadily in place.

The snow and the cold are the last things on your mind right now, not when Simon tastes so deliciously of cigarettes and spearmints. His presence engulfs you entirely, making you lose all feeling of time and space.

That is until Simons radio crackles on the floor next to you, "Alright you two, return to base for a debrief. Turn the radio off next time."

[apricityxoxo]

Help and Care.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ this is a sneak peek!!! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 1,156

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

contents: fluff and a bit of angst

sorry y'all, I had to finish up my winter classes but I'm back. (don't be mad at me it's black history month.) here's something new that I'm working on and don't worry part three of uncertainty is coming soon. I'm going to make a masterlist and a schedule lol. hope y'all enjoy this and lmk what y'all want to see soon.

enjoyy

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

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

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

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

Training.

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

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

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

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

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and he was confused. This was most definitely not the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

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

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

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

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

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

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

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

“Ghost, come now!”

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

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

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

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

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

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

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

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

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

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

Knock-knock.

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

“Come on in”

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

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

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

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

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

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

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

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the whole story is coming soooon, pls let me know what yall think

i wrote this while listening to creep by radiohead lol

full story

[rascal-xo]

Tactical Cuddling during a a blizzard with ghost to keep warm and alive that turns into romantic cuddling and words of affection? If that's too soft maybe add some reader being half frozen to death?

Stone Cold | Simon Riley x Reader |

Chapter summary: After being split up during a mission, the hopes of finding each other again begin to fade with each passing hour…

Warnings: fluff, kinda angst, just pure :((

Tags: @glitteryeggalmondherring @fiveshelmet @madamemelancholysstuff @myguiltypleasure @pukbadger

A/N: I hope you enjoy!! Lmk what you think :)

You huddle in the desolate corners of a long abandoned cabin, the bitter cold seeping through the cracks in the wooden walls. The howling wind outside whips the snow into a frenzy, blurring your vision as it dances in the air.

Shivering uncontrollably, you cling to the flickering hope that the Lieutenant will find you soon.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, separating you and Ghost amidst the treacherous snowy mountains. The communication devices had failed, leaving you stranded without any means of contact. With each passing hour, your body grows weaker, and frostbite threatens to claim your extremities.

The makeshift fire in the hearth casts feeble shadows on the walls, providing minimal warmth. Your breath forms icy puffs in the frigid air, a constant reminder of the unknown dangers lurking outside. You wrap your arms around yourself, desperately trying to conserve what little heat remains.

You clutch your chest, feeling the steady thump of your heartbeat against your weak and frozen fingertips. The sound is a lifeline, a reminder that you're still alive, but it's growing fainter, weaker.

You suddenly hear shot outside. Your ears stand up at the piercing sound. With sheer willpower, you rise from the floor, limbs heavy and uncooperative. Every step is a battle against the biting cold, but you press on. You stumble towards the door, feeling the gust of wind slice through your clothes. The icy touch pierces your skin, but you trudge forward, leaving the shelter behind.

Through the swirling snowflakes, you catch a glimpse of movement. A figure emerges from the blizzard, their silhouette becoming clearer with each step. “Gho- GHOST!” Your voice is like corse sandpaper against the walls of your throat, as you finally make out the skull mask in the distance.

“Y/N!” He quickly catches up to you. You collapse into his arms, and he holds you up easily as ever. “Thought I’d lost ya for good, Sergeant.” Ghost holds you up, his deep voice filled with relief and concern.

You cling to Simon, feeling his sturdy presence enveloping you, grounding you amidst the chaos. The sound of his voice resonates keeps you from slipping into the dark, a lifeline that pulls you back from the brink. “We need to get you inside now, you’ll freeze to death.”

He moves you back into the small cabin, throwing his gear down. Ghost makes sure you’re steady before sitting you onto the tattered cushion you had been collapsed on moments before.

He kneels beside you, his gaze fixed on your pale face. Ghost's hands cup your chilled cheeks, his touch sending shivers of both cold and comfort through your body. "Y/N, keep your eyes open," he says, his voice firm yet laced with concern. "Stay with me."

You fight against the heaviness threatening to pull you into unconsciousness. He looks around, his eyes finally landing on his pack. He rushes over pulling the sleeping bag off of it.

Before you’re able to comprehend he’s already lifting you into the insulated pad. Every movement feels rigid on your fragile muscles and sore bones. You almost wished you were unconscious, atleast you wouldn’t have to feel the cold.

Without a second thought, he carefully maneuvers himself into the sleeping bag beside you, his body heat radiating through the thin barrier between you.

The sudden presence of Ghost beside you sends a jolt of warmth coursing through your veins. His strong, solid frame acts as a shield against the frigid air, his body heat seeping into your chilled skin.

His arm slides gently beneath your head, cradling you close as he presses his body against yours. The sleeping bag becomes a shared refuge, a sanctuary from the biting cold that threatens to consume you.

After a few beats of silence, you rasp, your voice barely audible above the wind outside. "You have to go on without me.”

Your body is beginning to shut down on you. Even the smallest of breaths feel like mountains on your lungs.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving you up here.”

“You’re losing time. We both know i’m not gonna make it” You wince at the straining in your throat with every word.

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face taut with conflicting emotions. Ghost's gaze never wavers from yours, his eyes filled with a fierce resolve. "Fucks sake, No mission is worth losing you," he declares, his voice steady and unwavering. "I’m not leaving."

You reach up, your trembling hand brushing against the frosted fabric of his balaclava. Maybe it’s the impending doom or maybe it’s the proximity to him, but your lips form into a weak smile.

You take a shuddering breath, “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when the Captain said our careers would only go up from here.” A small chuckle follows but you immediately double down with pain in your ribs.

He watches you intently, unbeknownst to you a smile of his own forms under his mask. You take a steadying breath, mustering your strength despite the agony that courses through your body.

“Thank you.” You whisper, unwelcome tears now seeping into your eyes. Your hands now cupping the sides of his face. You feel yourself slipping away but still holding on barely to him. He moves his hand up to yours, pulling the balaclava over his head.

His skin is touched by the cold, but his eyes burn with intensity. You manage a weak smile, your fingertips tracing the contours of his cheek. The tears that well in your eyes mirror the pain and acceptance that reside within your heart.

“Stay with me, Love. Please” He says, just above a whisper. The tears that well in your eyes mirror the pain and acceptance that reside within your heart.

As you slip further into the grasp of unconsciousness, your grip on Ghost weakens. The slow beats of your heart thump against his other hand, so slow that it’s agonizing for him to bare.

And soon the world fades away from you, consumed by the relentless cold.

[daisies-daydreams]

The First Step - Chapter 2 (Simon Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Swearing, Some Sexual References (No Smut), Mentions of Drinking/Trauma, Nightmares Word Count: 2.4k+

A/N: As requested by several people, I wrote a second chapter for The First Step! Not much happens much in this chapter, just some set-up for what’s going to happen next. 😉 Stay tuned and thank you for reading!

The First Step (Ch. 1)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“Alright. Everything seems to be settled for now. You’re both dismissed,” Price said with a nod. The meeting after the incident in your office was a long process, though Price's usual gruff voice was more soft when he asked ran through the standard questions with you. You glanced over at Ghost as both of you rose from your seats at the same time. He looked at Price, who was giving him a knowing grin. Ghost's cheeks burned as he cleared his throat. He motioned his hand out as he opened the office door.

“After you,” he stated. You grinned.

“Thank you, Gho-Simon,” you quickly corrected yourself. You smiled at him as you stepped through the threshold. Ghost closed the door behind him, relieved that the meeting was over.

“I see you, MacTavish!” your voice suddenly boomed as you strode down the hallway. Ghost’s head snapped up as he watched you poke your finger at the Scotsman’s chest, his dog tags jingling at the rough contact. Soap raised his thick brows.

“Ah dinnae ken what you’re talkin’ about,” Soap said with a slight smirk. You scoffed.

“You know damn well that I won that drinking game last week, Soap!" you accused. Soap’s eyes lingered over to Ghost, his bright, baby blues pleading with him to do something. Ghost just stood behind you, his arms crossed as he watched with a hidden, amused expression. You turned, your eyes lighting up when you saw him behind you.

“Ghost! You were there that night. Tell this rapscallion that he owes me twenty-five dollars,” you said as you turned back around and eyed the man across from you. Soap rolled his eyes.

“Rapscallion? What are you, ninety?” Soap gawked. You scowled at him. “Listen, we both know that I had just ‘this’ much more liquor than you. So if anything, you owe me twenty-five dollars,” he claimed as he nearly pinched his fingers together. Both of you looked over at Ghost. He sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll pay you both twenty-five dollars if you can be at peace for at least five minutes,” Ghost rumbled. Your jaw dropped as Soap snorted.

“I don’t think that’s possible with this lass,” Soap chuckled as he raised his hand to pat your back. Your eyes widened as you quickly covered your arms above your head. Soap’s cheeky grin fell as he studied you. Ghost’s throat tightened as you nervously laughed.

“Sorry. I’m just kind of…jumpy today,” you muttered as you straightened yourself. Soap’s face remained blank as he looked over at Ghost. The lieutenant stepped over to him.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he whispered. Soap looked back over at you and nodded.

“Right,” he replied. Ghost grunted before staring down at his watch.

“Nearly dinner time,” he stated. You nodded. He noticed your eyes lingering on him before you looked down at your feet. Soap shifted his gaze between the two of you before a wry grin made its way on his face.

“Oh no,” Ghost thought.

“You know, there’s that new place that opened up just a few minutes from base,” he suggested while nudging Ghost’s arm. Ghost glared at him through his mask as Soap took a careful step back. Your eyes lit up.

“Oh! That Italian restaurant? I’ve been wanting to eat there since they announced it,” you beamed. Ghost’s jaw clicked when Soap raised his brows.

“Really? Me too! We should all go check it out tonight,” he said. Your face fell.

“I-I don’t have a ride. He’s…not available,” you said, your voice strained and tears welling in your eyes. Ghost’s nostrils flared. Just the thought of that bastard made him want to punch his fist through a brick wall. Soap almost raised his hand again, yet lowered it.

“That’s alright. One of us could drive you,” his eyes flicked over to Ghost. Ghost sighed, wanting to run his hands down his face. Your lips tilted into an unsure expression.

“I don’t know. I’m actually feeling pretty tired,” you said. Soap shrugged.

“That’s alright, doc. Some other time then,” he smiled softly. You nodded and slowly turned to Ghost. He met your gaze, his cheeks still burning and throat tight.

“Could you drive me home?” you asked.

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug. Soap patted him on his back.

“That’s good-cause my car’s in the shop!” he chuckled. You laughed while Ghost groaned quietly. “See you two later!” Soap called as he turned on his heel.

“You still owe her twenty-five dollars,” Ghost raised his voice slightly. Your shoulders bounced as you watched Soap’s brows raise and jaw drop.

“WHAT?!” the Scotsman bellowed. You laughed. Ghost felt his heart soften at the sound of your giggling, Soap’s ranting fading out. He leaned over to you.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” he whispered. You nodded, then gasped when he placed a hand on your lower back. He flinched it away. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s alright,” you sighed.

“-and in other words, you can-“ Ghost scowled at Soap. Even though the mask, the Scotsman could see his patience wearing thin. His mouth snapped shut as he waved his hand.

“Ah, whatever. I’ll get the money to you by tomorrow night,” Soap replied. You grinned.

“I’ll hold you to it, MacTavish,” you grinned while pointing your finger at him. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. Soap whistled as he made his way down the hall. You turned back to Ghost while he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. You parted your lips.

“Simon,” you said. He looked down at you, his dark eyes softening as you came close to him.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice somewhat lower than he intended. You kept your gaze down before you closed your mouth.

“I-Thank you. For today,” you sighed before taking a step back. His heart cracked slightly.

“Of course. You-“ he quickly shut his mouth. You tilted your head up.

“I’m what, Simon?” you asked. Ghost’s heart began to race in his chest as he fumbled with his keys. A lump formed in his throat.

“You matter so much to me”...is what he wanted to say. He gripped his keys, the words stuck on his tongue as his heart tightened into a knot. Ghost sighed.

“You…should definitely go see the psychologist on base. If you think it would help,” he strained. Your face fell and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you sighed. Ghost picked at his keys.

“C’mon, love. Let’s get you home,” he said. You gave him a small smile and followed him down the hall.

The walk there was rather quiet, save for a few comments here and there. Your hands brushed over one another as you rounded a corner. Ghost’s breath hitched, the simple touch sending a spark through him. You seemed to react just as viscerally, your eyes widening ever so slightly. Ghost’s hands twitched as the two of you continued through the exit doors.

The sun was low in the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance as you walked to his black Jeep. He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The last glimpse of sunlight glowing across your face as you looked up at him with a gentle smile. Ghost hummed as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"Alright, where am I taking you, doc?" he asked. You rubbed your hands over your upper arms.

"It's straight out the gate for about ten minutes, then you'll turn right at a stoplight down Sanderson Street. There should be a row of townhouses where you'll take a left," you explained.

"Sounds easy enough," Ghost said. An awkward silence lingered between the two of you. You eyed the car radio.

"Mind if I turn something on?" you asked.

"Be my guest," Ghost replied. You grinned and turned on the radio. A classic rock sound blasted through the vehicle, making you jump before turning the volume knob down. You blinked and laughed.

"Sorry about that," Ghost chuckled. You shrugged.

"It's alright. I like to listen to loud music, too," you said. Ghost quirked a brow.

"Yeah? What kind?" he asked. You hummed to yourself.

"It's kind of hard to just pick one genre. I like all sorts of music, you know?" you smiled. Ghost nodded, his hands drumming on the wheel.

"I'm more of a classic rock kind of bloke," he said.

"Different strokes for different folks," you shrugged. Ghost cracked a small smile as you swayed your head along to the sound of a guitar.

"You like Ozzie?” he asked. You hummed again.

"Kind of. I'm more of a Mercury fan," you said. Ghost nodded, though apparently even his mask couldn’t hide his jubilation.

"What?" you chuckled. Ghost glanced back to the road.

"Nothin'; I'm just a fan of his, too," he said. Ghost slowed the car down, nodding at the guard before passing through the gate. He shifted gears and sped forward.

"Okay, then. What’s your favorite song by Queen?" you asked. Ghost scratched his chin quickly before resting it back in the stick.

"Anything but Bicycle," he mumbled. You laughed.

"Well, now I know what your least favorite song is," you chuckled. Ghost glanced over at you again, your bright smiling warming his heart. You patted your hands on your thighs as the song faded out. Another one came on, prompting you to wiggle a little in your seat as you sang along. Ghost didn't even notice the grin that was pulled ear to ear across his face.

"I kind of regret not going to that restaurant now," you suddenly pouted, ceasing your dance. Ghost pulled up to a stoplight and glanced over.

"Why's that?" he asked. You sighed, your hands folding over your lap.

"I don't know. Just something to keep me distracted from..." your eyes became glossy as you pressed your lips together. Ghost's hand gripped the stick as he felt another bolt of anger strike through him.

"Hey-it'll be okay," he tried to assure you. You nodded, though you avoided his gaze, opting to stare at the rolling clouds outside the window. Ghost sighed as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “We could still go, if you wanted," he muttered. Your head spun around as blush filled your cheeks. You didn't look angry perse-just shocked. Ghost cleared his throat. "Sorry, if you're uncomfortable-"

"What about Friday?" you asked. Ghost blinked, his heart starting to thrum against his sternum.

"Friday?" he repeated. You nodded, the tears fading from your eyes.

"I-If you're busy though..." your voice trailed off as you wrung your hands together. Ghost shook his head.

"Friday's good with me. Besides, Soap will be there to keep us plenty distracted, yeah?" he replied. Your shoulders sank slightly as his response.

"Y-Yeah," you sighed as you leaned back in your seat. Green light spilled over his Jeep, prompting the lieutenant to shift gears again. The rest of the ride was a quiet one, the music humming lowly as a few raindrops began to bounce against the roof of Ghost's vehicle. Another crack of thunder erupted across the landscape.

“Just turn right up here,” you said as you pointed towards a collection of townhouses. Ghost nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he turned his steering wheel. Something strange struck through his chest when he pulled up to your place. Several plants were sprinkled across your front lawn, a small table and two chairs resting on the small, concrete patio. Wind chimes danced in the breeze as you opened your car door. You paused when you went to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“(Y/N)? You alright?” Ghost asked. Your hands were clutching onto the seat belt as you licked your lips.

“I-I’m fine, just…” your voice trailed off as your fingers played with the buckle. Ghost tilted his head. You sighed and shut the door.

“Love?” Ghost said calmly. You bit your bottom lip.

“Simon,” you said as you turned to him.

“Yes?” he asked. You swallowed thickly as you shifted in your seat.

“Could you…maybe come inside?” you asked sheepishly. Ghost felt his heart flip. Time stood still for an eternity before he finally nodded.

+++

Another buzzer rang on the television, a woman leaping up in the air as she waved her arms around wildly. Ghost never quite understood how people could get that excited over something. You yawned, your head falling onto a nearby pillow.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Ghost suggested. You shook your head.

"No-I still want to stay up for a little bit longer," you sighed, your half-lidded eyes glued to the screen. Ghost hummed and nodded. It's been a few hours since you invited him inside. Usually for him, this meant the start of a long, heated round of sex...only for him to slip out the door in the middle of the night. But there was something about you and him; quietly sitting and watching gameshows on your couch that just felt right. Your eyelids fluttered a few times before your head slumped onto his broad shoulder.

Ghost tensed and gazed down at you as you snuggled into his side. He couldn’t help but feel heat rising to his ears as your warm body was pressed flush against his. The lieutenant eventually relaxed as he felt your weight on him, resting across his side like a blanket. He carefully brushed some hair out of your face, the gameshow long forgotten. You began to mumble in your sleep as your brows furrowed.

“Simon,” you mewled. Ghost’s hand twitched. He blushed furiously as his mouth grew dry.

You were dreaming about him?

You sighed before nuzzling your face into his chest. His throat constricted as your lips caressed his collar bone.

“Fuckin' hell,” he thought. He tried to distract himself from the blood rushing to his cock by looking out your front window. The storm had calmed by now, only a few low rumbles of thunder coming every now and then. Something suddenly struck Ghost when he saw his Jeep parked next to your smaller car in your driveway. His mind began to wander: what would it be like to park next to your car every day? What if you shared a car? A house? A bed?

Ghost’s face flushed as he shook his head.

“No-just stop,” he told himself as he continued to run his digits through your hair. That kind of life could never happen for someone like him. What has he ever done to deserve a domestic life like that? He's saved lives, sure, but he's also taken them. He closed his eyes as he tried to push the peaceful fantasy deep down, hoping it would just suffocate inside of him. Ghost deserved a life of detachment-not whatever his heart was yearning for at the moment.

You suddenly whimpered and stirred in your sleep. Ghost's eyes shot open as you started to cry out.

“No! Please! Stop it, please!“ you sobbed, your body shaking as your face twisted in pure horror. Ghost's heart sank into his stomach as he watched the nightmare ravage you. He cautiously wrapped his arms around you, his lips close to your ear.

“It’s okay, love. You’re okay now,” he murmured softly. Your face began to relax as he stroked his hands over your arms. “You're safe,” Ghost cooed. You sighed as your breathing began to steady. Ghost nearly kissed the shell of your ear as you rested the side of your head against his shoulder. He patted your arms a few times before yawning. His own eyelids began to grow heavy, the warmth from your body lulling him closer to a deep sleep.

"It wouldn't hurt to rest for a few minutes," he thought. Ghost shut his eyes and drifted off into a quiet slumber.

+++

Ghost was woken up by a woman gasping. His eyelids fluttered open as he met your gaze. You were resting right on top of him, your chest pressed against his. His hands were panted on your lower back, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal his slightly scruffy face. Your cheeks were bright red as you slipped away from him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered. He grunted as he felt your warmth dissipated from beneath his palms.

“It’s alright,” he yawned. Ghost looked over at the clock in the kitchen.

7:12 AM

The lieutenant was tempted to just flop back down on the couch and fall asleep. He rubbed the crust from his eyes before stretching. You stood in front of him, feet planted to the floor as you avoided looking at him.

"I should be the one to apologize, love. Didn't mean to crash at your place," he said as he pulled his balaclava back over his lower face.

"Oh, you're fine," you waved. Both of you remained in another bout of awkward silence. Your head perked up when you heard your phone alarm screeching. You cursed as you scrambled to find it. Ghost looked down, pulling it from a crack in the center cushion. You smiled sheepishly as you took it from him and turned it off.

"No rest for the weary," you sighed as you rubbed your eyes.

"Or the wicked," Ghost added. You chuckled softly, your hands falling to your sides.

"There's some cereal in the cabinet and milk in the fridge if you'd like some. Sorry, I haven't had the chance to go shopping this week," you admitted. Ghost's throat tightened. You tilted your head. "You okay?" you asked. He nodded as he rose to his feet.

"Yeah-just not used to-" he cut himself off. He rubbed the back of his neck while gazing down at his black socks. You offered him another smile before nodding slowly.

"I have to get ready for work. You can...you can stay, if you want. Or go-it's totally up to you," you offered as pink dusted your cheeks. Ghost lowered his hand.

"Thanks, love,” he replied. You nodded before slipping towards what Ghost assumed to be your room. He sighed and clenched his jaw.

Why can't things be easy? Why can't he spin you around and just kiss you on your sweet lips? That way, pulling his feelings out of his chest would be more like a dance and less like getting his teeth removed. He looked around your living room and kitchen. The place was comfortably quiet, though he felt himself yearning to check on you. He gazed down the hall, hoping that you'd pop back out. A few minutes passed before Ghost sighed. He muttered under his breath as he pulled his boots back over his large feet.

His chest felt a little more fragile and empty as he glanced back into your apartment one last time before heading out the door.

Ghost replayed the scene of you sleeping on top of him over and over again as he drove back to the base. The sun peeked over the horizon, shrouding the rolling hills in an soft ochre. He turned up the radio as he pulled his Jeep up to the stoplight. His right hand slipped into his pocket for a cigarette. Ghost paused when he felt a piece of crumpled paper brush against his fingertips. He pulled the parchment out and unfolded it.

His eyes widened as he read the number listed on the paper…your name clearly scribbled underneath it.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

@notthatfanfictionwriter @mrswhitethornbelikov

[mafiagirl2020]

Title: Operation Baby Ghost

The rec area on base was filled with the usual noise: the clink of mugs, the shuffle of boots, and the occasional burst of laughter. Simon “Ghost” Riley sat at a table, flipping through some intel, his face as unreadable as ever. Across from him, John “Soap” MacTavish fiddled with his phone, trying to keep his chuckles under control.

“So, you know about periods, huh?” Soap asked, trying to hold back his grin.

Ghost looked up from his papers, eyes narrowing slightly. “I know about a lot of things, Soap.”

Soap leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the awkward tension building between them. “Oh yeah? Got one of your own, did ya?”

Ghost didn’t respond right away. Instead, he simply arched an eyebrow beneath his skull mask. “Not anymore.”

Before Soap could process that, he was already halfway across the rec area, heading straight for Captain Price’s office.

“Price! Price!” Soap yelled, bursting through the door like a hurricane. “You won’t believe this—GHOST IS PREGNANT!”

Captain Price, who had been sipping his coffee at his desk, choked on the drink, coughing violently. “What?!” he sputtered, slamming the mug down onto his desk.

Soap, never one to miss a chance for drama, gestured wildly. “I swear! He said it himself. He’s got a bun in the oven. I’m not making this up!”

Price, still recovering from his coffee-induced shock, gave Soap a look that said everything. “MacTavish, get the hell out of here. You’re not making any sense.”

But it was too late. Word spread quickly through the 141. By the time Price and Soap returned to the common area, the team was buzzing with confusion, questions, and a sense of dread that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Ghost is pregnant?!” Laswell asked, incredulous, as she walked in with Price, both of them clearly trying to make sense of the situation.

“Yeah, I thought he’d be the last one to—well, you know—get into that sort of thing,” Soap said, still grinning. “But nope! Big ol’ pregnant Ghost!”

Price rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “This is absurd.”

Laswell turned to the rest of the team. “Alright, everyone, calm down. We’re going to have a talk about… puberty.”

The room grew silent as Laswell pulled out a stack of papers and set them on the table. She had a no-nonsense look in her eyes, the kind that made even the toughest soldiers think twice.

“This is about biology,” Laswell continued. “And no, Ghost is not actually pregnant.”

The team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“But we have to go over the basics,” she added. “Puberty, reproduction, and all of that. So, I’m going to set up an anonymous question box. Anything you don’t understand, you put it in there.”

A few groans echoed through the room, but no one dared to argue. An hour later, they all sat in awkward silence, reading the questions that had been deposited in the box. Some were serious, others absurd.

One question stood out: “When does Amazon deliver the baby?” followed by “Is Price the father?”, “Will the baby look like Price?”, and “Do they make baby cigars?”

Soap burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly falling out of his chair. “I swear, I didn’t write any of those,” he said between chuckles.

“Well, Ghost,” Price said with a raised eyebrow, looking at his second-in-command, “it looks like you’ve made quite the impression.”

Ghost, who had been eerily silent up until that point, just grunted. “I’ve been bloated lately, alright?” He tugged at his uniform, pulling a jumper up under it to add a bit of extra fluff around his midsection, giving off the unmistakable “pregnant vibes.” “Happy now?”

Price’s face twisted with confusion and frustration. “What in the hell is happening here?”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Soap said with a smirk. “Ghost is just really getting into character. Looks like he’s really pulling off the whole ‘expecting’ look.”

But Price was past the point of finding any humor in this. His hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. “This is insane. Ghost. You’re not pregnant!”

Ghost stared at him, eyes hidden behind his mask but his tone was deadly serious. “You’re the father of this baby, Price. I thought you loved this child!”

Price’s face turned ashen, his mind clearly processing the absurdity of the situation. His voice cracked when he spoke again. “What… what do you mean ‘the father’?”

Before Ghost could answer, the door to the rec area opened with a soft creak. Major Shepherd, who had been unusually quiet during the commotion, stepped in, a look of confusion on his face.

“How is Ghost pregnant?” Shepherd asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Ghost with his stuffed jumper and the chaos unfolding around him.

Soap, ever the dramatist, sprang to life. “Well, Major, when a mummy Price and a daddy Ghost like each other very much…” He trailed off, grinning ear to ear.

Price, at this point, had clearly reached his breaking point. He slammed his hands down on the table, his voice booming in the tense room. “No one is pregnant! Ghost, take that ridiculous jumper off!”

Ghost stood up, unbothered, and tossed the jumper aside. “Alright, alright. It’s just a joke, Captain.”

Price collapsed into a chair, face buried in his hands. “This is too much. I need a drink. I need a break.”

Soap leaned over, his grin still wide. “You know, I bet the baby’s going to be a real soldier. Just like its father.”

“Soap,” Price growled, “if you don’t shut up, I’ll personally throw you in the brig.”

The rest of the team, finally understanding it was all a ridiculous prank, began to laugh. Even Shepherd managed a small, albeit awkward chuckle. Ghost remained stoic, as always, while Soap basked in the chaos he’d caused.

Price let out a long sigh. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to explain this to everyone on base.”

Ghost, never one to back down from a challenge, leaned in toward Price with a grin. “Next time, Captain, I’ll make sure the baby gets a proper welcome.”

guys girl or boy 💥

I wouldn't actually hc ghost as trans I just really wanted an excuse to make this trend HEHHEHHEHEH.