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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

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Until You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part 4 of "soft spot"

Simon is the only place that feels like home anymore, and you can't get enough of him.

warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving) porn with plot (a lot of plot), porn with feelings, service top ghost

wc: 6.6k

New York City. No one ever talked about the smell.

Warm, wet trash sizzling in the dying heat of the summer, mixed with the suffocating pollution from the countless cars clogging the roads. It was worse than London, in a way. Or maybe Simon just thought it was worse because it wasn’t home. At least the rat infestation was a bit familiar, though not all too comforting.

Most of all, it was the amount of people that really got to him. London and New York City were roughly the same size population wise, but it was as if the city was more dense than London was. With towering buildings stretching far into the sky, blocking out any sort of natural beauty, it was almost as if they forgot they could build their city out sideways. It was even more odd pushing through them, weaving his way between bodies and stands in the crowded streets. The city was awfully lively for a place that had almost been blown to bits that morning.

It had been a long week. A long few weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was meet up with Laswell and the others for some sort of debriefing party. In a bar, no less. Though, at that time of day it was likely to be less crowded than the street he tried to slither through, and he attempted to hold onto that thought as his only source of comfort.

“Hey, check this out, L.T.”

Then, of course, there was Soap. Over their time working together, he had grown closer to him than he had any of his other teammates. He was a nice enough kid, and one hell of a fighter, but walking down the streets of that fucking city with him was going to be the death of him.

Still, he paused as the Scotsman bounded up to one of the various stands that lined the streets. Some sort of parade had taken place that morning, which meant all the vendors were out and about trying to sell anything from food to handmade goods. The one Soap approached seemed to be selling jewelry ranging from necklaces, rings, and even earrings. Each one of them had that handmade charm with its leather, twine, and gemstones. He wondered how many of them were real stones.

“Fancy yourself some jewelry, Johnny?” Simon asked, deciding to play along with Soap’s antics for a bit.

“Oh, you know me,” Soap said, thumbs resting in his pockets while his eyes scanned the items in front of him.

“Chest candy not enough for you, then?”

The lady who ran the stand must have been the oldest person alive. Her body was covered in age spots and her hair was so wiry and frail he could see clear through it to her scalp. When she smiled, her teeth looked unnaturally white and fake, as the real ones were most certainly replaced with dentures, and there were the obvious hints of hearing aids lining the sides of her ears. Simon wouldn’t be surprised if she had no idea what was going on around her.

“Not looking for myself,” Soap said simply as he continued to browse.

Simon stood there for a good few seconds as he allowed his sergeant to have his fun, but his patience was wearing thin. Being out in that crowd had already fried his nerves some, and not everyone was caring enough to hide their odd gazes at his attire. He wasn’t all too excited about getting an earful if they showed up late, either.

“Here we go, what about this one?” Soap asked as he pointed at one of the items.

Following his finger, Simon caught sight of a ring. It was a dainty little thing, with a band so thin it seemed like the material would snap straight in half under the pressure of his gaze if he kept squinting at it. On top of the silvery band was some sort of red gemstone. He guessed ruby, but was doubtful about the authenticity of it. He was a soldier, not a gemologist.

“What about it?” Simon questioned.

Soap shook his head and hummed a little. “Right. Probably a bit too soon for a ring, huh?”

Before Simon even had time to question what the hell he was talking about, Soap grinned. It was a devious little grin, and something the man wore often. His hand reached out and grabbed a necklace from off of one of the stands. It was better put together than the ring was, and in his opinion, more eye-catching. Emerald green beads lined the entirety of the necklace, and they were the good quality kind too. The ones that probably were plastic but didn’t look like it. And the way it reflected the sun was rather dazzling too, even he had to admit.

“MacTavish,” Simon grumbled.

“What?” Soap asked, though he sounded a bit guilty. “You’re all the way here in the Big Apple. You’ve gotta get a souvenir for Spook. Besides, green looks good on everyone.”

There it was again, that nickname Soap had coined for you. Despite the fact that he had never once mentioned your existence to anyone on the task force, Soap had managed to see right through him. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide you for mischievous reasons, but he preferred to keep his life at work and his life at home separate. Though, it became a difficult task with that damn Scot meddling in it.

He would have rolled his eyes at the man if he wasn’t too busy attempting to glare at him. Instead, he shook his head before turning and continuing down the street.

“If you show up late, I’m turning you over to Laswell,” Simon warned.

Unphased, Soap turned his attention back down to the sea of jewelry in front of him, along with the ancient lady who hadn’t stopped smiling throughout their conversation. He held the necklace out with one hand while the other dug into his pocket.

“How much for this?”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Simon never unpacked his bag on the nights he arrived home. He was often too tired from the mix of physical exertion and jet lag. So he always saved it for the next day when his mind was a bit more clear and his body somewhat rejuvenated from what little sleep he managed to get that night. He always started with his clothes first. Rinsing out any stains with cold water before tossing them into the hamper to be washed some other time. Then there were the toiletries, where they’d be brought back to their rightful places on the bathroom counter.

Other than that, there wasn’t much else for him to sort through. Except for the new item he found in his hand. A small, dainty, green beaded necklace. It was the very same one Soap had showed him while he was still in The States, and it had been stowed away in the same pocket he kept his toothbrush in. Unless the thing grew a pair of legs and climbed in there itself, Simon had a pretty good idea who put it there.

“Cheeky bastard.”

Before he could grumble to himself too much about it, a sharp knock sounded on his door. He shoved the necklace into the pocket of his jeans and quickly threw his empty duffel bag underneath his bed before approaching the door. There was no need for him to check through the peephole before he opened it, as he was already expecting someone.

You stood outside of Simon’s apartment with a bag of groceries in hand, and bundled in a light jacket to fight off the cool autumn air. A grin formed on your lips the moment the door swung open to reveal Simon. It took everything in you not to throw yourself into his burly arms, but god, the very sight of him made you want to melt into his chest. To soak up every inch of him and bathe in the one true person who ever felt like home to you. He had only been gone a few weeks this time, but it still felt like an eternity since you had last seen him.

“Hey, love,” he greeted you as you slid into the apartment. “What’s all this?”

“Dinner!” you exclaimed as you scurried over to the kitchen. “Or, at least what will be dinner. I heard the ORP’s you get in the military are pretty shit, so I figured a fresh meal would do you some good. I got chicken, and a salad kit. I hope you like Ceasar salad, because it’s the only kind they had, and…”

You were rambling, as usual. Once you were aware of your chattiness, you paused and turned back around to face Simon. A ghost of a smile hinted at his lips as he watched you, fingers fiddling with something in his pocket. Another grin broke out across your face as you began to sway side to side. You felt like a school girl looking at her crush.

“And I missed you,” you said softly, finishing up your ramble.

That hint of a smile turned into an obvious one. It was still small, as were most of Simon’s expressions, but you reveled in it as he slowly closed the gap that spanned between the two of you. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist and that was all the coaxing that you needed to fall into him.

He smelt fresh and clean, like he had gotten out of the shower not too long ago. There was a hearty warmth about him that melted away whatever coldness that lingered on your skin. His head lowered so that his lips could press against the top of your head, which only caused that warmth to spread.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, giving you a tight squeeze. His words were soft and laced with fatigue, which wasn’t surprising. He always got like that after returning from somewhere overseas. Apparently saving the world was a pretty taxing job. But it only made you appreciate it even more that he was willing to let you come over to his apartment and bug him.

As much as you wanted to stay like that forever, there was raw chicken in the grocery bag, and you were starving. So you raised your head off of his chest and propped yourself on the tips of your toes to plant a quick, chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out of his grasp. His fingers lingered on the curve of your waist for a short moment as he watched you turn back to the counter to sort through the items you bought. Simon never really liked to talk about how his missions went, and you were sure a large part of that was because it was probably classified to some extent. Instead, he aimed the conversation to be mostly about you. So, while you cooked, you talked about anything you could think of. Work and how the computer systems went down on a Monday morning, or a walk in the park you had taken on a Saturday where you saw a bird stealing a sandwich from a toddler.

Though Simon had attempted to help several times throughout the cooking process, you refused, and ordered him to relax while you did the work. Eventually the entirety of Simon’s studio apartment was smothered in the alluring aroma of your freshly cooked chicken. After setting up the plates, the two of you made yourselves comfortable on Simon’s couch. Or, at least as comfortable as you could get. You didn’t know how he managed it, but he somehow found a couch that was even more lumpy and rock hard than yours.

“How do you like it?” you questioned with your mouth half full of food.

Simon took a moment to finish swallowing his bite of food before answering. “Good. Very good. Salad’s alright, though. Nothing special.”

You tilted your head to the side, curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, eyes glancing up at you. “Any salad can be a Ceasar salad if you just stab it enough.”

A laugh left your throat, but not the kind that was sincere. It was mostly in pity, and a little bit in pain. “Wow, Simon. Grabbing the low hanging fruit, are we? Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that one before.”

Another soft smile appeared on his lips before he continued eating. He was hardly one to truly smile all that often. In fact, you couldn’t ever really recall a time when you saw him grin, a big toothy grin. At that point, you think that expression on him would probably worry you.

“You said you went to America, right? New York?” you prodded, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork.

“Yeah. City,” he confirmed.

You could hardly contain the grin on your face as your eyes flickered back and forth between the plate in your lap and Simon’s face. “You know, I read somewhere that someone in New York gets stabbed every fifty-two seconds.”

“Yeah?” Simon asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” you repeated, unable to contain your shit-eating grin any longer. “Poor guy.”

Simon nodded his head slightly as his lips pressed tightly together as if acknowledging the humor in your joke, but he didn’t laugh. “Good one. Have to tell the boys that one.”

You giggled, this time a real, true one. “Make sure to credit me. You’ll have them all repeating the joke that Lieutenant Riley’s super cool girlfriend shared.”

The muscles in Simon’s arms tensed slightly at your words, and he paused eating for a short moment before shaking his head slightly and continuing. This didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were quick to question him on it.

“What? Plan on stealing the glory for yourself?” you teased.

Once more, Simon shook his head. “That Lieutenant Riley bullshit.”

“Is it weird coming from me?” you questioned.

He paused for a moment while he used his thumb to swipe at a bit of dressing that had lingered on the corner of his mouth. “Coming from anyone.”

Now that really caught your attention. The way you saw it, this was your opportunity to press a bit more about his work. At least the non-classified parts of it, anyway.

“Really? Everyone just call you Simon, then? Seems a bit informal,” you mused. But as soon as those words left your mouth, an idea struck you. “Or do you have a call sign or something?”

You could tell by the way he paused that you were right. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was obvious that a part of him was wishing you hadn’t caught onto it. It was talk about work, one of the hardest things to get him to open up about. But this was innocent enough, or at least you hoped it was.

“Ghost,” he said stiffly.

“Ghost?” you repeated. “I guess that’s fitting for you. You’re pretty quiet. Does anyone else go by something like that?”

Finishing up the rest of his food, Simon set his plate so that it was balancing on the armrest of the couch. He sat forward a bit so that he was able to reach into his pocket.

“Some do. One of them actually… helped me get this for you.”

Simon wasn’t exactly one for gifts, both receiving and giving. His language rested heavily in acts of service. Putting together a new lamp. Buying groceries when there was none in the fridge or pantry. Making you breakfast. So when he pulled out a beautiful green beaded necklace, you were instantly taken aback. It looked so dainty in the palm of his hands, displayed perfectly and waiting for you to take it.

“Simon,” you exclaimed with a small gasp. Mirroring what he did with his plate, you set it down to rest on the arm of the couch before scooting closer to him. You carefully took the necklace from his hands to admire it further. “It’s beautiful.”

His eyes watched you attentively while your fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the beads. Everything about you was perfect to him. How gentle you were with everything you did. How you were the exact opposite of him. Where he was quiet and stiff, you filled every void in him with the song of your voice. You haunted his mind, all his thoughts, the empty cavern of his chest. He had felt cold for so long, and when you came along it burnt. But he would gladly burn for the rest of eternity if that meant he could see you like you were in that moment, so happy and full of an innocent glee.

Happy because of him.

You broke his train of thought when you held the necklace back towards him. At first he was confused, but when you moved even closer to him, he knew what was coming next.

“Help me put it on?” you asked.

Of course he would. There would never be a time where he would ever say no to a question like that. So he took the necklace from your hands as you turned to sit away from him while lifting your hair up. His hands brushed against your collarbones as he reached around to get the necklace in front of you. It took him a moment to get the clasp to properly hook together, and you shivered slightly at the lukewarm temperature of the jewelry. He straightened it out on your neck and you turned to face him once more, a smile on your face as you looked down at yourself.

“How’s it look?” Your eyes found his again after asking the question, and your heart nearly stopped. There was a deep sort of feeling to his gaze, one that you couldn’t quite place, but one that made you feel unbearably warm.

“Gorgeous,” he responded, his voice deep and hardly above a whisper.

Something started to expand in your chest. It was difficult to tell if it was because of how he looked at you, those dark eyes glancing over your features, gaze lingering on your lips, or because of his compliment. But it kept growing, and things started to feel too hot, like someone had lit your heart on fire.

He was so close. So close that you could reach out and touch him after weeks of not even being able to hear his voice. You felt like some 17th century man with your eyes glancing over every bit of him like you had never seen such beauty in your life. That hot, expanding feeling in your chest only persisted, and it was getting difficult to breathe.

Simon felt like your source of life. Like you were dying without him. So when your hand reached out and brushed against the side of his face it felt like you were able to breathe again. But it only made that burn in your chest, that need, grow stronger.

He was the one to close the gap between you, lips finding yours so easily it was like he was taking the road back home. You twisted your body so that you were facing him as best as you could while sitting on the couch, and his hands were quick to find your waist. His touch was gentle as he carefully rubbed his hands around to the small of your back, tugging you closer.

But it wasn’t close enough, not for either of you. His lips pulled off of yours for a short second as he hooked a hand underneath your legs while keeping the other one firmly on your back. His strength always surprised you, as it wasn’t something he demonstrated all too often. With his stature and line of work, though, you don’t know why it caught you off guard when he pulled you into his lap as if you weighed nothing.

“C’mere,” he said, lips brushing against yours once more.

Giggling, you melted back into the kiss, sitting sideways in his lap. Eventually his hands began to wander some. They slowly slid under your shirt, inching up carefully as his fingers met the bare flesh of your waist. He didn’t venture too far. It was simple; polite, even. Going slow enough so that you could stop him with ease if you wanted, and yet still not taking advantage of it and pawing at you like a hungry dog. All he did was savor the touch of your skin.

But you wanted more. It was a weird feeling; wanting to be touched. Feeling like you would waste away without it. No, you didn’t just want to be touched, you wanted to be touched by him. By Simon. There was some sort of insatiable need growing in you that only craved him. So you pulled away, embarrassingly out of breath. The moment you did his hands quickly slid out from underneath your shirt, and you nearly pouted at the loss of contact.

“I missed you,” you said softly. Your hands meandered down to the hem of your shirt where you took the fabric between your fingers before slowly tugging it upwards. He watched you carefully, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin as you discarded the shirt somewhere on the floor behind you. “I missed you so much.”

When your lips crashed together once more there was more movement involved, as if you were trying to devour one another. Simon’s hands roamed along your back, staying tactfully away from your bra as the pads of his fingers trailed along your skin, sending a tingle along your spine. It wasn’t enough. If anything, it only made things worse. You were burning alive and you would be reduced to ash eventually.

“Simon, I…” you said breathlessly as you pulled out of the kiss again. It caught you off guard just how whiny you sounded. “I want you.”

His eyes quickly glanced at the bed shoved in the corner of the studio, and his arm was already making its way underneath your knees again. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, and moments later you were suspended in the air bridal style, held against his body with nothing but his hands to keep you there. It caused another giggle to bubble out of your chest, which only made Simon smirk.

He could have tossed you onto the bed; gods knew he was strong enough. You half expected him to do it, too. Instead, he set you on the edge of the bed so that your legs were dangling over the side. He towered over you as he stood in front of you, a hand running along your hair. His touch was so soft. He didn’t yank on your hair, or force you to look up at him, he was much more tender than that. God, he was going to be the death of you. Your hands reached out for him and you pulled gently on the fabric of his shirt as you stared up at him, your eyes wide.

“Please?” you asked.

Doing as you asked, Simon slid the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. It wasn’t a secret that he was fit, in fact, it was to be expected for someone like him. The demands of the military, let alone the SAS, were rigorous, and his body reflected that. Toned muscles shone through thick skin which was littered with an array of scars. Some were so faded you could hardly make them out in the dim lighting of his apartment. Others were so deep and angry they nearly made your stomach turn at the thought of what could cause such a thing. Particularly a rather deep scar that punctured through the muscle of his ribs.

Continuing to maintain eye contact with him, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against that scar on his ribs. You could feel the way his muscles rippled underneath your mouth in a shiver. He shivered harder than he ever had when you offered the same comfort to the scar on his cheek.

As if thanking him for being so vulnerable with you, a hand reached behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra, causing your breasts to drop into full view. Once that item of clothing was tossed somewhere to the side, everything fell into place perfectly. Simon leaning down, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, his fingers pulling off the clothing that covered your bottom half.

At some point you had fallen so that you laid on your back. Simon still stood at the edge of the bed where he took in the sight of your bare body, with nothing on you except for that necklace. It was an odd look he gave you. Like he was hungry, but not greedy. Like he was savoring every second his eyes drank in the sight of you.

You bit your lip and moved your legs upwards some so that your feet were resting on the bed, thighs slightly spread. His eyes dropped down, locking onto the soft flesh between your thighs, but only for a moment before he looked at you again.

Without breaking that eye contact, he slowly lowered so that he was on his knees. His hands gripped your hips and slowly pulled you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed. You gasped at the movement, legs flailing slightly as they were once again over the edge. To help keep you steady, he threw your legs over his shoulders as he positioned his head between your thighs.

You propped yourself up on your elbows in order to keep your eyes on him. Your breaths came in quick and short bursts of anticipation as you watched him. The very sight of him alone made you feel weak.

“Just say the word, sweetheart,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your thighs as he held them. “If you want it to stop, then I stop. Yeah?”

Your arms began to shake as you held yourself up, but you nodded your head in response to him. But your nod alone didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy him.

“Okay,” you said, your hips wiggling in anticipation.

Then came the kisses. Soft, open mouthed kisses against the inside of your thigh. He trailed them from the bottom of your thigh near your knee, up towards the plush flesh near your pussy. Each movement was slow and careful while his eyes continued to watch your body, looking for any sign to stop. But when you gave him none, he dove right in.

Stars threatened to blind your vision the moment Simon’s tongue slid along your heat, and your arms fully gave out as you fell back onto the bed. He moved along you slowly and languid, taking his time in trying to find just what made you tick. When his tongue swiped across your clit you found your legs tightening, nearly threatening to crush his head. A soft and breathy moan escaped your lips, which only seemed to fuel his actions.

“Fuck… right there,” you breathed as your fingers laced in his hair.

It was the sign he was looking for, and once those words left your mouth, he kept his mouth on you, tongue swirling along that spot that made your legs shake around his head. A part of you thought he was going to stop. That he would get bored of getting you off with nothing in return and would request something of you instead. But Simon was like a hungry dog that was tossed a bone; a salivating, grunting mess as he ate you out. And god, you had never felt such pleasure. A tight knot formed in the core of your stomach as he continued drawing shaky moans from you.

It was divine. Not just in the burning sensations he ripped from your body, but the numbness that settled over your mind. There was no worry, no fake pornographic moans, no acting. There was just you on your back with Simon’s head between your thighs as he devoured you.

That knot only grew tighter in your body as he continued, and your moans quickly turned into whimpers. Your thighs began to shake and clench uncontrollably, forcing Simon to put a hand on the inside of your legs as a gentle reminder to not smother him before he was done with his meal.

“I’m… fuck… gonna cum,” you said, words punctuated by heavy breaths as your body instinctively tightened.

But he didn’t let up, if anything, he moved faster. Tongue ravaging your clit, large hands holding your hips steady, breaths nearly as fast and uneven as yours. Your fingers tightened in his hair like you were holding on for dear life, and maybe you were. Never before had you felt something so sublime yet so close to death at the same time. He continued to pull every single moan and tremble from your body that he could while his groans threatened to overtake yours.

Something snapped deep inside of you, causing a rush of warmth to flood your entire body. Your breath caught in your throat for a short moment and your legs began to quiver while your orgasm washed over you in a burning heat. Simon held you steady even as your back arched off of the bed. Your mind went blank as you finally breathed again, your entire body shuttering. His tongue continued to work at you, but slowed considerably as your high waned.

Eventually his mouth left you for the first time in what felt like hours. Simon rose from his knees, carefully pushing you back up onto the bed as he did. A soft sheen coated you as a thin sweat made your body appear to glow. Your eyes felt heavy and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You felt like you were going to melt into the bed. Hell, you almost wanted to. Melt away into the sheets that smelled like Simon while riding away the last bits of your high seemed like the best way to go.

The bed dipped down next to you as Simon sat against the headboard, back propped up by a pillow or two. You looked over at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you rolled over, crawling on your hands and knees towards him.

“Your turn?” you asked, a devilish tint to your voice as you straddled his legs. His jeans were still on, but you knew you could make quick work of it if it came down to it.

To your surprise, Simon shook his head. That glint in your eyes quickly faded at that, and he reached out for you, pulling you into his chest. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin too, much to your surprise, and as you settled into him, moving so that you were at his side, you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Might have to take a raincheck on that, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deepening in the way that it did when he was tired. “Fuckin’ exhausted.”

It made sense. The man did just recently return from being deployed for some mission in The States. But still, it was… odd. No, not odd. Just different. And nice. So, gut wrenchingly nice to be the one taken care of. To have arms wrapped around you, to be held tight, to not feel a burning in your eyes.

To be loved.

That’s what it was like. It was more than being defended when you were threatened, getting flowers at work, or getting a drive home. Anyone can pretend to be nice. Anyone can pretend to love you. But it takes something different to see you at your most vulnerable, your most exposed, and not take advantage of it.

“I love you.” The words left your mouth before you even had time to process that they were on the tip of your tongue in the first place. You raised your head off of his chest and looked him in the eyes before repeating yourself. “I love you so fucking much, Simon.”

Something changed in his expression. His eyes were still warm and exhausted, but something else flickered in there, too. Something faint. Something… sad. But you paid it no mind as one of his hands moved from around your waist to your face, brushing away a stray strand of hair.

“I suppose I’ve grown fond of you, too,” he said, unable to hide the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Really, you weren’t sure what you expected. Sarcasm was Simon’s second language, afterall. So you playfully rolled your eyes at him as you settled back onto his chest.

“Asshole.”

But you knew what he meant.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something burning. It was rancid, and sour, and quite literally stirred you out of your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open. Simon wasn’t in the bed with you, but you noticed that the blanket was smoothed out over your body, and the clothes that had been torn off you the previous night were folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

Pulling the blanket over your chest, you sat up and glanced around the studio. Simon was in the kitchen, bent over the stove as he cooked what you assumed was bacon. It was difficult to tell over that terrible, charred scent.

You slipped out of bed and quickly slipped your shirt over your head, not bothering to put on much else besides that. Running your fingers through your hair, you traveled the short distance away from Simon’s bed to the kitchen, where you quickly made your home leaning against the counter.

“What’cha cooking?”

He turned to glance at you for a short moment, giving you a quick once over before paying attention to his cooking again. Despite the sleep the two of you got that night, he still looked just as exhausted. You wondered if he got as much sleep as he had pretended to.

“Bacon,” he said simply.

You hummed in response, watching as he worked the spatula in the pan. However, your eyes began to wander, and just on the other side of him you could make out the source of that foul scent. A few pieces of perfectly cooked toast sat on a plate right next to two, unrecognizably burnt ones. They were casted aside in shame, it looked like, and the sight of it made you giggle.

“Did you burn toast?” you asked teasingly.

“I’m a soldier, not a chef,” Simon retorted.

His response only made you laugh again, and you made your way to the other side of the stove to get a better look at the mess he made. Yet, as you neared it, your eyes were only drawn to the toaster instead. It was an old hunk of metal, and it probably would have worked pretty decent if it didn’t look like it had been thrown down a flight of stairs a time or two.

“Holy shit. No wonder you burnt it. This thing is fucking ancient,” you said, dumbfounded.

Simon shrugged. “No use in buying a new one. Hardly here anyways.”

He was right. With how often and how long he had to leave for work, he was hardly home for half of the year, if that. It was one of the first things you noticed about his apartment. It was a studio, so it was small, and hardly had the essentials. At first you chalked it up to him being a soldier, used to not having much and surviving on so little. But maybe it was something else.

Still, you shook that thought out of your head as you looked over at him. “Do you want to move in together?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see every muscle in Simon’s body tense. He turned to face you fully, spatula still in hand as he looked down at you. “Huh?”

“Think about it,” you said, reaching out to grab that sad, burnt toast. “You say you’re hardly here. If you moved in, we could spend more time together while you’re home, and I can take care of your things while you’re gone.” You paused as you turned around and walked towards the trash. “You won't have a shitty toaster. I’ve got two bedrooms, so there will be plenty of room for your stuff. And, I don’t know. I think it would be nice. You’ve always taken such good care of me, and I’d like to do the same for you.”

The toast fell into the trash with an unnaturally hard thunk before you turned around to face Simon. He had followed your every move and stood with his back turned to the cooking bacon. His gaze was quizzical, confused almost. Like he was wondering why you would ask such a thing. But then, he looked away and turned his back towards you as he took the bacon out of the pan and set it on a plate on the counter.

“Are you asking, or just thinking?” he questioned.

“I’m being serious,” you assured him.

But his back stayed turned to you as he patted the bacon dry with a paper towel, soaking up any unnecessary grease. It was almost like he wasn’t taking you seriously. No, there was no way he didn’t know you were being serious. Maybe he just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that someone like you could ever be with him.

So you took a step forward, feet sliding across the tile floor of the kitchen until you were by his side again. His eyes stayed focused on his work as he began setting the plates. Bacon and toast wasn’t exactly a five star meal by any means, but it was enough for you.

“You can tell me if it’s too soon,” you said as you leaned against the counter.

Simon picked up one of the plates and turned to face you. He held it out for you to take as his eyes flickered down to the food. “My lease is up in three months.”

Simon Riley was a strange man. It was something you were able to pick up about him the very moment you met him. And even with all the time the two of you had spent together, getting to know one another, he was still guarded, in a way. Never one to say I love you. Never one to say yes. But his eyes betrayed every word he ever left on the tip of his tongue, and when he looked at you, his mouth nearly did too.

“Great,” you said softly, unable to hide your grin as you took the plate from his hands. “Three months, then.”

Things were so much easier when you weren’t around. When you weren’t standing in front of him, looking up at him like he was your whole world. He used to focus on his work and nothing but it, not caring about the state of his apartment or what food he had to come home to. There was work, and then there was the time in between. That was all it was supposed to be.

Until you. Where he used to see the skulls that haunted his past, his dreams became littered with your face. Everything in him constantly craved the touch of your skin, the feel of your lips against his, the sound of your voice, your smile. He had faced terrorists and death, had died and crawled out of his grave, but he wasn’t sure if he could survive what you were doing to him. But god, at that point, he would let you destroy him.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #soft spot series

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tavshortfortavern · 6 months

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Companions with a Tav from Modern Earth

Modern!Tav who still has their things from earth

Characters: Astarion, Gale, Karlach

Astarion

Learns that you have never met another race other than your own and he was the first elf you've met outside of stories, he's all smug that he was the first one you've met and horrified of a world without elves.

"Well darling, how is your first meeting with an elf?" He asks, posing proudly. "Must be a momentous day."

You stare at him up and down. "I thought you'd be taller." He gasps and glares indignantly but you kept making fun of his height

When he mentions not being able to see his reflection, you take a picture of him with your phone. He's alarmed with whatever your doing with that strange device until you show him his picture

"Is that me?" he's stunned, reaching out towards where his image is shown. The curse doesn't take into account digital reflection.

You do your best to explain the cellular device but most importantly the camera feature. You've been using it to snap pictures of places, fantastical scenes in this fantasyland and documenting memories

He listens enraptured. You come to almost regret it bc now said phone frequently goes missing. Astarion having pickpocket it to take selfies or simply admire himself in the screen

Soon your memory is almost full thanks to the selfies he's taking. He remarks you should be thankful to have such gorgeous sights immortalized in your device. He's doing you a favor

You will admit he's gotten real good at taking photos of himself. He'd quickly become a popular social media influencer/model back home.

Found out your little hand mirror could also show his reflection. The way your world made mirrors was without silver and could reflect him. You give it to him freely, as long as it means your phone is stolen less

Genuinely thankful for the gift. Keeps it close to him at all times. You know this when you observe him gazing at himself thru the mirror, touching his face with a look that says he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Quickly earns you a lot of approval.

Asks for your handmade soaps and shampoo made from natural resources you scavenged and bought. It eases the experience of roughing it out in the wild

When he feeds on you the first time, its great but immediately notices something wrong. Your blood tastes different somehow.

You explain microplastics and he's horrified. (but if he canonically gets a taste for Gale's blood, he will for yours)

Gale

Can't wrap his head around a world without magic.

Listens to you explain you and the majority of the population believing magic was a fairy tale and never heard of this 'Weave'

Wants to hear about your world, its history and how its progressing having no magic and only containing humans.

He understands this must be a lot for you and is willing to teach you everything you need to know about Faerun

Always interested in whatever device you pull out. Asking plenty of questions. From your phone to a ballpoint pen. Once spent a day studying the taser you had.

Loves the look of childlike wonder on your face whenever a spell is cast. Even a simple cantrip. Gladly shows off and soaks in the rapt attention you give him whenever he talks about spellcraft.

Helps you out with your own casting, if you obtained the ability to use magic, he could provide a little insight in guiding a new power

Soon you'll be sharing your stationary items. Started with the pen, next the multi-colored ones and so on.

Usually protective over kitchen duties but welcomes you to make dishes from your home world. Some even become a staple in camp.

If you have any soda, don't let him drink without warning him. He'll startle when the fizz hits his tongue and maybe choke.

Understands your homesickness. Being torn from everything you've ever known to a dangerous environment must be a lot. Is very patient when answering your questions even if they seem inane.

Show him pictures and videos of your home and he'd be intrigued, the glass towers, structures that pierce the sky, streets lit with colorful lights, and flying machines. Some parts remind him of Waterdeep.

Karlach

Loves soda and whatever fast food you have. Could go months just eating that if Gale hadn't put his foot down.

Introduce her to rock music and heavy metal. Hypes her up for a fight. Even music that's nice to dance to. Will be dancing a lot in camp. And jamming out.

Also learns you're still new to meeting other races. Thinks its great how your willing to help people you might have been alarmed to see at first and being so open minded to befriend anyone

Sympathetic when your homesick. She has her own experience being sent off into a different plane for years with nothing to connect her to home

You talk about modern medicine back home and heart surgery. Both of you wonder if they could just get her engine out and replace it with a normal heart in a hospital. It's a frequent topic of conversation as you work out the logistics

Is also happy to listen to any stories from your world. From classic fairy tales to history. Asks for them whenever it gets too quiet

Wants to see your world some day. If her engines gets fixed wants to visit and see everything you've told her and places shown in the pcitures in your phone

Photobombs your pictures. Its especially funny when she does it to Astarion trying to take another pic of himself, he complains but never deletes the picture

Will go through your photo album and ask about them. Who are the people your with, what are you doing in this, where is this and whats it like there

#bg3 isekai #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 karlach #bg3 headcanons

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injestedsoap · 17 days

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The 141 + Nik and watching Bridgerton with you

Soap: Oh Soap curled up with you episode one and hasn't left your side. Sure he tried to play it off like this is beneath him and he's not actually interested but oh come on, bonnie, there's only two episodes left this season, let's finish it out. He loves the smut scenes, of course, but he also really likes the dance scenes and is going to 'complain' about you signing them up for dance classes until you actually do sign them up for dance classes.

Gaz: Gaz has also been there since episode one with you. He never even tried to pretend he wasn't having fun, he was a Gossip Girl fan in another life and as soon as he understood what Lady Whistledown was doing he was all in. You stopped between every episode to debate who she could be and he gasped when she was revealed. He gets really excited for the premieres and will go looking for themed snacks and drinks for your little two person party.

Ghost: Ghost does that thing where he tells you this is a waste of your afternoon while he stands in the kitchen watching, then moves to stand behind the couch watching, then sits on the couch with you, and then by the middle of the season he's got his arm over you and is talking shit about the characters like he knows them. Ghost weirdly knows way too much about textiles and one of the first things he said was about how the dresses are period accurate but that fabric isn't. If you're the kind of partner who wears dresses.... be careful because you might have a handmade dress waiting for you for the next season premier.

Price: Price has a bit of a secret.... he's read all the books, all of them, Bridgerton was never his favorite series but he's s sucker for a historical romance and these hit like cheap sweets. He has known about the series for ages and when you curled up on the couch to watch it he tugged you into his lap without being asked. He likes the books better but he really enjoys watching the show with you, just be ready to read the books with him between each season and be even more ready to hear him tell you about the differences in the show and the book.

Nik: Nik isn't really one for binge watching but he knows how excited you are about this. He has all the blankets on the couch and your pajamas freshly laundered, lights some candles, makes sure to have tea and whatever else you like to drink on hand, and orders way too much food for the two of you. Nik is just naturally a bit of a gossip and he loves how messy Bridgerton gets, he has a great memory for all the dumb shit everyone gets up to and loves talking about it with you. When he finds out these are books too he places an order for the set and between seasons he will snuggle you up in bed and read aloud to you.

#soap #ghost #gaz #price #nik #john soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #nikolai #call of duty imagine #141 imagines #call of duty headcanons #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #nikolai x reader #very specific headcanons thank you

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bumblebeehug · 9 months

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Gave him her heart

Ship: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia Summary: Lucy worries about what to get Natsu for his birthday, not knowing how ridiculously easy it actually is. Day 5 of Nalu Week 2023 - prompt: gifts Ao3

***

Natsu was a good man. He was wild, fun, crazy, but most of all: good. Lucy was very aware of this and knew that such a good man truly deserved the best. So, naturally she felt slightly panicked when she realised his birthday was coming up.

Lucy liked to believe that she was good at giving gifts. She was observant, both on the battlefield and off, so she knew what people looked a little extra at when they browsed shops or went by markets. Wendy turned to sweets, cute dresses or jewellery, something Lucy was relieved over when she noticed it – Lucy was nothing if not good at picking clothes and accessories, and Wendy was transparent with her tastes (sweet = good, savoury = fine, if there was a good reason to why it was gifted, otherwise a little weird, and sour = danger zone. It could be risky, but citrusy tastes were appreciated in sweet desserts). Erza was also easy to please with gifts – either go the sword and armour route, or go the girly route, possibly with some suggestive books. Gray appreciated nice soaps and clean décor for his house, and if she wanted to be funny with him she could always gift him underwear, seeing as it was the only clothing that stayed on for a while (though since him and Juvia got together it wasn’t really an option – Juvia didn’t care too much about what Lucy gave him, underwear or not, but Lucy herself felt weird about it, so nowadays she kept to soaps). Carla liked tea and pretty dresses as well, but appreciated flowers and other handmade things, and Happy was never happier than on his birthday, when he practically could get buried in the number of fishes he’d be given.

Natsu, however? Lucy wasn’t too sure what she could give him. He liked loads of things – food, fights, adventures, funny hats, board games: few things were off the table with that guy. If she gave him a bouquet of flowers he’d probably smile and say thanks (and maybe he’d try to eat them once he got home), if she gave him tea, he’d probably set the leaves on fire and accidentally get high or something – she didn’t want to risk it either way. He’d be thankful for any clothes she would give him, but would most likely only wear them when he really had to, or to sleep if they were comfortable enough. He really liked his special made ones, that managed to stay intact no matter how hot his fire was. He would definitely try to eat the soaps, and that wasn’t worth it in her opinion, and if she gave him a fish he’d very likely think she was either giving Happy a gift through him, or that she was confessing her undying love for him, since that’s what it meant when Happy gave fishes as gifts to the opposite gender (of the same species, might be important to add).

Point is: giving Natsu gifts was hard when you knew him too well. She had even considered giving him jewellery that matched with the ones she had gotten from him recently, but it once again came down to him only wearing them as a chore, and her pride couldn’t really take that. She would have to put a pin in this challenge though, because she was expected at the guild to help cover a shift for Mira as she dealt with one of her requested missions.

As she entered the guild hall, she was relieved to see that it was rather empty. It had its perks, working at a bar in the middle of the day, and since she saw some of her closer mates, she knew she could take her chance to dig around and find out what others would be gifting him.

“Hi Master,” she greeted Makarov, still using the title he had tried to give over so many times already. Though technically he was still in charge, so Lucy thought it only appropriate to keep calling him master until he truly was off the position. “I’m covering for Mira this afternoon.”

“I heard,” he grumbled from his position in the wheelchair. “You’ve been behind the bar before, so you know the drill. In fact, could you bring me a plate of fried squid and a beer? Just put it on my tab.”

Lucy took his order and sent a note into the kitchen per his request. Normally Mira would help out in the kitchen as well, but since Lucy had limited experience with cooking the meals they were serving, she was excused to just manage the drinks and easier snacks, like nuts and chips. As she waited for the staff in the kitchen to finish the order, she poured a glass of beer for Makarov. Half with light alcohol, half with none. He was currently cutting down on his alcohol intake, Porlyusica’s demand, but to not make him fall back immediately from quitting cold turkey, they slowly made him drink lighter and lighter.

“So, Natsu’s birthday is coming up,” Lucy said, trying to cover it up as small talk, but realising it was obvious what she was trying to do.

“I’ve heard.” A smug grin graced Makarov’s face. The relations between the mages in his guild were always amusing, especially in the stage that Lucy’s and Natsu’s had been in the last couple of years.

“I’m a bit curious…” She gave him his order. “What do you think he wants? You’ve known him for longest.”

“Child, I’m too old to remember all my guild members’ gift preferences, and I’m definitely not rich enough to give away gifts like it’s nothing. For a long time now, I’ve allowed myself to forget who likes what.” Lucy smiled, ready to brush the topic off and take another order across the hall, but he continued. “I do, however, know that you could give him a stick or a pebble you found on the sidewalk, and that boy would treasure it like it’s his most sacred, most valuable item in his possession. Do what feels right, Lucy.”

She thanked him, but within she felt like she was back at square one. She knew he would be happy about getting any gift, but she didn’t want to give him just any gift. She wanted it to reflect how much she appreciated him and their friendship, and she wanted it to stick out. Maybe it could even suggest that she appreciated him more than a normal friend, but only if he started overthinking the gift (which she doubted he would do anyways). It was meant to be subtle, but not subtle enough for it to never be discovered by him. And if it needed to be discovered by him, whatever this little message it was she was trying to convey to him, then it would have to be flashing in neon lights above his bed when he woke up in the morning.

So, she spent a few hours continuing to ponder on what to do, as she was taking more and more orders as people kept dropping in. At around 6:30pm her true saviours arrived at the guild hall. Her team, plus a few other closer friends and minus Natsu and Happy, who were camping today and tomorrow, were back from one of their shorter missions, and they were probably starving for some dinner. Lucy was quick to come over and take their order, also grabbing her chance to question them about their thoughts on this conundrum.

“Hi guys, did the mission go well?” She greeted them, preparing her notepad.

“It went great!” Wendy beamed, and Lucy made a quick mental note to ask about the mission more in detail at a later date. She must have done a good job if she allowed herself to be this proud – Lucy always thought she was too harsh on herself when they fought on missions.

“Gray even kept his clothes on,” Erza added, praising the man on her right.

They took a quick moment to chat, and as they finally decided on what to eat, Lucy seized her moment.

“So,” she started, already knowing she would never live down asking a question like this, considering that many of the people at the table were quite transparent on their opinions on Lucy’s and Natsu’s relationship, “Natsu’s birthday, huh?”

The silence her sentence brought made her regret it immediately. She could already see how their brains were working on new ways to tease her for whatever she was going to say next, but she would have to swallow her pride once again. It’s for a good cause, she kept telling herself.

“Have you gotten your presents yet?” She chuckled awkwardly, hoping their answers would be enough to inspire her, so she could get their food and forget she ever brought it up in the first place.

“Mhm.”

“Yep.”

“I have too.”

“And I’m with Wendy on her gift,” Carla added, still making it painfully obvious that nobody was elaborating their answers. They were making Lucy work for it; she just knew it. They loved grabbing their chances to make her say embarrassing things, and today was no exception.

“Really…” She forced out a laugh. “So, what have you gotten him?” She tried again to prompt anyone at the table to speak up, but they knew she would have to continue pressing, and that it would sound more and more desperate the less information they gave her, so after they all stayed silent for another minute, Lucy gave in.

“I’ve just completely blanked out; I can’t even remember a single thing he likes! Please, help me! Give me some inspiration!”

Erza exchanged a glance with Wendy before she answered.

“Well, he likes fire.”

“And fighting.”

“And ugly tourist shirts,” Gray chimed in. Lucy groaned.

“I can’t exactly give him a clip card for sparring matches, and I’ve already considered a bonfire, but I wanted to have a get together later with all of us where we make a bonfire and drink hot chocolate and stuff.” She spared Gray a short glance as well. “And he only wears his special made clothes, so I can’t give him a shirt to frame for 200 jewel.”

“Then we can’t help you,” Erza said, flipping her bangs as she always does when she lies. Lucy pouted.

“I’ll get you your food, please help me afterwards?”

“Deal.”

After 30 minutes she finally had four hot plates balancing on her arms, ready to serve to her stubborn teammates. They were chatting along just fine now, so hopefully the would have forgotten their silent agreement to keep themselves clammed about their gifts. Lucy hurried to place out their food, hoping that they would notice her way of bribing them by giving them extra big portions.

“Now please...! What should I give him?” Lucy sat down at the table. She wasn’t going anywhere until she got an answer she was pleased with.

Wendy gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well… We can tell you what we think, but don’t you think he’d like it better if it truly came from you?” Erza nodded along.

“I’m going to give him a sword that’s enchanted with endless fire,” she revealed. “But you know, it’s not really a gift that screams ‘Lucy’.”

“Erza’s right. I’m giving him some scrap wood I found in the woods because I can’t really bother, but no gift we tell you to get will be as appreciated as the one you come up with,” Gray said, taking a sip from his beer.

“And we’re getting him a small cupon at a restaurant,” Wendy added.

Lucy sighed.

“I know it won’t be the same, but my creative well has completely dried up. Nothing I think of feels like enough. If I get him something I’d appreciate it would be like I don’t know him at all, and that doesn’t feel fair.” She started to feel hopeless. She didn’t like how drained she got from worrying about this – she loved Natsu! And she would love to properly show him how much she loved him, because he truly deserved that. Platonic or not.

“Hey, you look like you’re giving up, that’s not like you! Think of it like this, we’ve all combined our own interests with Natsu’s interest: Erza with the sword, Wendy and Carla with the food, and me with the scrap wood that shows that I have zero interest in him. Why don’t you write something to him? It may not look like it, but I think he know how to read. At least simple words.” Gray gave Lucy a half-hug from his seat in an attempt to comfort her.

“So… you think I should write him a letter? Would that be enough?” She felt sceptical, but it could work.

“You spitting on him would be enough,” Carla snorted, almost offended by her obliviousness.

“Carla!” Wendy burst out, not before Lucy raised an eyebrow in confusion. Her gut told her not to ask, and for once, she decided to actually follow that gut feeling.

“Do you really think a letter would be enough though?” She asked.

“How about you give him an experience? A friendly date of sorts,” Carla suggested.

“An experience?”

“Like going to the movies, or to a restaurant, or maybe picknick or stargazing?” It was Erza who spoke up this time, and Lucy thought she could see a sparkle in her eye. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think that Erza had been on dates like that herself.

“Hm… I guess you’re right. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll just have to ask him directly, I suppose.”

Lucy stood up from her seat at the table and bid farewell to her friends, along with her thanks. A letter would have to do, and she had a gut feeling that told her that she would figure out a good topic to write about. She hurried to end her shift so she could get to her gift-making. A good idea rarely stayed for long in one’s head.

When she finally sat at her desk, pen in her right hand and paper in front of her, she knew this was the right thing to do. What better way was there to tell Natsu how much she appreciated him, if not through words on paper? It was her speciality, after all. She had even lighted some candles to keep her company, since she knew she would sit there for a while. There was a lot of things she wanted to tell him and thank him for, and the letter would be the perfect way to convey these feelings. Right. Feelings. That could include her less platonic ones, and even if this was a great opportunity for that as well, she didn’t know if she was quite ready to go that far yet. In the meantime, she would just have to tell him she loved him in every way except the straightforward one.

Four hours and 16 pages later, she had her letter. It was ridiculously long, she knew that, and he probably wouldn’t be able to read it in one go, but her heart felt light. A letter was the perfect gift. She had even included multiple invites to ‘experiences’ she wanted to give him, and if he took as long to read it as she thought he would, then those experiences would be experienced with about one week in between them. Lucy gave the thick envelope a quick lick to seal it, and after that she couldn’t help but to give it a soft kiss. She had poured her heart out, and though it would be embarrassing for her to know that he would read such things, it also felt very right. It wasn’t a love letter, but in a way, it felt like it was. She had told him all the things she loved about him, all the moments she especially appreciated him being there, and how great her entire life was thanks to him. If read with the intent of reading a love letter, it could very well translate into one, and maybe, someday in the future, he could look back at it and see the hints she left him.

Lucy leaned back in her chair with a big yawn. It was well into midnight hours by now, and she really needed a refreshing shower. A thought went to how Natsu and Happy were having it right now, in a tent somewhere in the woods. Though she was happy to get to sleep in her soft bed, she was missing them. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. To speed time up she hurried to the bathroom so she could get into bed as soon as possible – her apartment wasn’t the same without those two.

Lucy cursed herself. Why, why, why had she written that letter? It was the most obvious love-confession anyone could ever read, how on earth had she not realised that when she read it through yesterday? She was dragging her feet behind her, because if the embarrassment wouldn’t kill her when he read it later, she would have to kill herself, and no one non-suicidal would ever look forward to something like that. So, her feet dragged. The letter felt heavy in her hands, and she knew that as soon as it would be opened, she would feel naked. Her gut was begging her to turn back, but her heart told her that celebrating Natsu today was more important than her pride. Him and Happy were coming back from their camping trip, and they promised her they would stop by the guild to say hi before heading home, and that’s when they would be surprised with a small celebration. Nothing like other events, where people went completely wild, but a celebration big enough to show him some appreciation.

Checking the clock one last time, she made sure that she was there before they arrived. They woke up pretty late generally and their favourite camping spot was about an hour into the woods. 10am. Maybe they hadn’t even woken up yet, but Lucy didn’t want to risk it. She wanted to prepare and decorate the guild, and then she would grab something to eat, considering she hadn’t eaten any breakfast yet.

As she entered the guild, she was relieved to only see her team and a handful more people. They were chatting and blowing up balloons, and they had turned one of the tables into a gift-table. Lucy hurried to put her letter amongst the others, eager to get the gift out of her hands.

“Good morning, Lucy!” Levy greeted her with a hug. “You’re pretty late, did you stay up last night?” Lucy chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I had something important to finish.” She felt her team’s eyes in her back – they knew she had stayed up writing, and though Lucy knew she hadn’t written a love confession of any sort (other than platonic) she still managed to feel a blush creep onto her cheeks.

“So, do you need help with the balloons?” She offered, greeting the rest of the group.

“It’s fine, you go ahead and grab some breakfast instead,” Mira smiled.

“How did you know I haven’t eaten?” Lucy sat down at a table.

“You have a tendency to forget to eat when you have other things on your plate,” Mira just answered, placing down a yoghurt bowl with homemade granola and fruits. Lucy could only smile sheepishly, slightly embarrassed how obviously nervous she was about this event. She was sure Erza had told her about her moment of weakness yesterday, so she reminded herself to try to keep herself under the radar. She’d just be here, sing a happy birthday song, eat a piece of cake and watch Natsu open his presents, then the day would be over and the whole Lucy-confesses-her-feelings-though-a-letter thing would be over! No unnecessary teasing from her friends, if all went well.

“I’m back!”

The guild door shot open with a noise loud enough to give the untrained ear a heart attack. Lucy however had a trained ear, so she just turned her head and met Natsu’s happy gaze, her heart fluttering at the fact that his eyes immediately searched for her and no one else.

“Happy birthday!” The guild cheered. Lucy stood up from her place at the table, not really knowing why until Natsu stood in front of her, just an arm’s length away. If she reached, she would be able to bring him into a hug, and it truly itched in her arms to do exactly that.

“Hey,” Lucy smiled softly. “Happy birthday.” Watching Natsu’s smile go from surprised and generally happy, to soft and caring made Lucy lose what little control she had, and she caved into her needs to hug him. As soon as she felt him hug her back, she knew that whatever the others thought about the content of her letter contained, as long as Natsu read it and took it to heart, all would be fine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, tightening the hug for a second before he went ahead and thanked the rest of his friends, never straying far from Lucy.

The birthday party was overall a quite big success, everyone had a great time, and Natsu, who not so secretly had been itching to open the presents, finally gave in and announced what he was planning to do.

“Time to open the presents!” He cheered, almost jumping in place in excitement, clearly not representing the age he was turning (400-something years old) but making everyone smile regardless. Everyone except Lucy, whose heart flew up in her throat, suddenly getting the strongest urge to grab her letter before he got to it so she could throw it away or burn it. Not because she didn’t want him to read it – she would just prefer it if he read it somewhere more private, where the burning eyes of her much beloved friends could read it and jump to conclusions. So, she hurried close to whisper her plan to Natsu – despite him being the cause of these nerve-racking feelings, he was still her partner in crime, and she knew he would break his neck to achieve whatever she asked him to do. This time, what she asked him not to do.

“Psst!”

Natsu shot a glance to Lucy, who was whispering just quietly enough that no one else would notice, unless they had dragon ears and paid attention to her. Lucy, who saw that he had heard her, hurried to shoot her shot.

“My gift is the letter, I would kinda like it if you read it after the party instead? It’s just – it’s quite long and it won’t be any fun if you sat down and read it here, you know?”

The ball was in the air, and now she could at least sleep well knowing that no matter the outcome, she did try her best to steer the situation into best case scenario – all to her means of course.

Natsu, the king of pranks and someone who was surprisingly good at sneaking around, despite his usual love for the “let’s just barge in and fight anyone who tries to stop us” approach, still managed to keep up his gleeful demeanour as he had listened to Lucy’s request. He once again met her gaze and gave her a quick nod, ensuring that she had scored. The rest of the evening would manage to stay calm and uneventful. All thanks to their ways to keep down low. It was really convenient to have dragon hearing at times like these – though usually she had that thought on missions, and not happy, meant to be uneventful celebrations and parties.

The birthday boy himself didn’t mind opening Lucy’s gift later. In fact, he was just happy he was getting something at all from her, considering how stressful most birthdays could be for her. Sure, she already knew what genre people liked, but getting down to picking the actual thing and managing prices was a hard task for Lucy to tackle without stress. So instead, he went ahead and opened the elongated, wrapped gift that said “Happy birthday, from Erza” on the card. He would make sure to ease Lucy’s mind today, considering how stressed she clearly had been the last couple of weeks.

Natsu couldn’t stop grinning. He truly had the best friends ever, and despite him not being a big birthday celebrator when it came to himself, it felt good to be appreciated. There had been good songs playing, yummy food to eat, and most importantly: good company. He especially loved the presents he had gotten, since they clearly were gifts that his friends had carefully thought through and taken into consideration before giving them – yes, even Gray’s gift was appreciated, because though it seemed silly, he did sometimes need firewood after hard missions to speed up his recovery. Everything was dear to him, so when he finally got home with that thick letter in his hands, he couldn’t wait a second more to open it. This, you see, might be the dearest gift of all.

The softly written “To: Natsu Dragneel” on the front of the envelope made Natsu’s heart beat harder. He knew that the content in it probably wasn’t anything out of the ordinary stuff the two of them said to each other, but still. He liked that Lucy had put extra thought into whatever she had written. Or, at least he hoped she had, seeing as he didn’t actually know what the letter said yet.

Happy peaked over Natsu’s shoulder, closing the door behind the two.

“So, what are you waiting for? Open it!” Happy urged, eager to see what Lucy wanted to say to him, but clearly couldn’t since she had to write it down. In his opinion a speech would be quicker, knowing how slowly Natsu read.

Carefully Natsu parted the sealed wax from the paper, making sure not to tear anything. If he could make some space, he’d want to hang everything on his memory wall later, and in that case he didn’t want to ruin it.

Still standing just inside the door, Natsu began to read. The letter started out rather normal. She was writing the obligatory happy birthdays and saying hi to Happy, who she knew would read over Natsu’s shoulder despite it being a private message. That part piqued Natsu’s interest a little extra. What did she have to say to him that not only had to be written, but wasn’t meant for Happy to know? It sparked some hope in his heart that she possibly could feel something special about him – special-er than what they already had. He continued down the page. She started reminiscing about the past, and about halfway through the second page, Happy gave up on Natsu’s slow reading and told him he’d simply read it after Natsu was done with it. Natsu took a seat as he joined Lucy’s trip down memory lane, enjoying the new information on how she saw him when they first met, during their first missions and more. He especially liked learning that despite his foul mood the first days together, she still had fond memories of him, like when he included her in his list of friends when they fought Macao (before they knew it was him, since he had turned into a Vulcan) and how the reason she didn’t refuse to get along with him after he had seemingly deceived her for a mission, was because he had managed to get a few lucky words in. Something like “because we thought you seemed nice” had made her stick, and Natsu could only thank his past self for accidentally pressing the right buttons.

As he continued reading, he was struck by the wonderful realisation that he truly mattered to Lucy. It’s not like he didn’t know that she enjoyed his company, but seeing in in black and white was completely different. It wasn’t just that she had written something along the lines of “I care about you, your existence matters to me” (though that would have worked as well), but the fact that she could remember so many small details of what he had said and done, that she may as well have written a complete book with all those moments, and it would probably be at least 200 pages long. He knew she had been cutting down on what memories she brought up in the letter, because enough talks with one person made them show how much brain capacity they had, and Natsu knew that her brain capacity was way longer than a 16-page letter. This was her way of being concise. Yet she still managed to bring up moments he only vaguely remembered, sharing almost exact quotes of what was said and by who. Mostly the who was either Natsu or Lucy, but it was still impressive.

Natsu had never been interested in reading. It was a chore he had to go through to get the money he needed for food, had never been any more interesting than that. Except for two occasions: Lucy’s first published book, and this letter. Sure, he had been reading it for almost double as long as it probably took to write it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested. This letter was so far the greatest thing he had ever received, which wasn’t an easy thing to manage.

At 4am had he gotten to the last line of the letter. His eyes were trying to force him to rest, but his mind fought it like never before. He had skipped dinner for this, and he was not planning to give up last minute, just to succumb to something so superficial, boring and unnecessary as sleep. No, he gathered up some extra will power and pulled though. “Though you probably understand this after reading this letter, I am simply eternally grateful for everything you are, and what you’ve just read is the best I could do at describing my gratefulness in words. Thank you for all you’ve done, and for being unapologetically you. No one else could make me as happy as you have, so once again: Happy birthday, Natsu Dragneel.” She had signed it with her signature at the very bottom, ensuring that all he had just read was completely and wholly from Lucy. After reading the whole thing, he felt his legs itch. No, maybe it was his arms. Feet, hands? No, it was most definitely his soul that had started to climb inside his body. He wanted to go to her, and he wanted to see her. Preferably five minutes ago. He threw another glance at the clock. 4:50am. He had been tossing around, unable to even do as much as close his eyes, for the last 40 minutes, and he knew he wouldn’t feel better until he was within a 20-meter radius of Lucy. Or rather, 2-meter radius.

Not bothering to sneak around the heavy sleeper that the exceed was, Natsu jumped out of the bed and pulled on his slippers. In less than 3 seconds he was out the door, and in another 3 he noticed that he was running. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do when he saw her, especially considering that she most likely was asleep in this hour, but he simply had to get to her, quickly. The time was ticking, like he was a bomb soon to explode, like he was going to run out of time if he didn’t arrive soon. Wind blowing in his ears, he could barely make out the sound of his heavy breathing. He hadn’t run this fast in Mavis knows how long, and he might actually had made it outside her apartment in record time. His chest rising and lowering in big breaths, he managed to make something of a sigh in relief to see her window slightly opened. Climbing the wall quietly was no challenge with Natsu’s experience, so he swiftly pulled himself up, making sure to fully open and enter the window as quickly as possible – though this time with less success since he didn’t have as much experience with that part. Usually he just barged in after scaling the wall, seeing as the time he did it at was most often a time where Lucy either was away or awake.

Either way, he didn’t manage to sneak in as stealthily as he’d like. The window creaked and his body almost fell limp after getting a whiff of Lucy’s calming scent – that he had been running like a maniac to get there didn’t help either, and after a loud, nongraceful landing, Lucy was already awake.

“Natsu? ‘s that you?” She mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry for waking you,” he whispered, finding his balance on his legs again as he stood up.

“No worries.” Lucy had now swung her legs over the edge of her bed and sat in a more upright position. “Did you need anything? Is Happy alright?”

“Yeah, he’s at home sleeping. I just felt like coming here,” Natsu said, full transparency.

“Alright,” Lucy said, now taking a better look at his face. He looked red and flustered, but with his heavy breathing it might just be the fact that he ran to her place.

“I read it.”

Lucy’s face started getting hot as well.

“The letter?”

“The entire thing.”

“Wow. Uh, so what do you think of it?” Had the hour been normal she might not have asked him such a bold question, but something about the way the streetlights and moon illuminating the room made her feel brave. Perhaps she still thought she was dreaming, but this felt much too real to be just a dream.

“It’s perfect.” Natsu took a few steps closer. He could now make out most of her facial features, sleepy yet alert of his presence.

“I’m glad.”

A few more seconds went by, though it felt like minutes.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“All of it. All the things you wrote?”

A soft smile graced Lucy’s lips.

“Of course. I would never lie about those things.”

Natsu knew he could be dense in most situations. He couldn’t always read the room, and he wasn’t good at subtext. This time however, he had felt something the whole time as he read that letter. Maybe it was what other would call “reading between the lines” but he suddenly had great confidence in something that could change their relationship forever. Of course, it was a very long shot, but perhaps the adrenaline from all that running was just what he needed to gather the courage to take it. He did, however, decide to test out the water first. Running headfirst was usually his go-to method if he could choose, but he wasn’t blind to the delicacy of the situation he was putting himself in.

“Can I assume things?” He tried.

“Assume things? From what I wrote?” Lucy asked, curious where he was leading this conversation. She was very aware of her heartbeat, but she didn’t know that she didn’t have to be this time, considering that all that Natsu was hearing was his own.

“Yeah.”

“It depends. What do you want to assume?”

Natsu swallowed. Did he always have this much saliva? If so, maybe something was wrong with him. He swallowed again, clenching and unclenching his fists. Had he ever been this nervous in a situation as calm as this? No bandits, no monsters, no big wild animals – not even an annoyed Erza was around.

“That…” he started, his tongue thickening as he spoke. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. He could barely concentrate on what he wanted to say, gazing into those doe eyes. She was so, ridiculously pretty. He knew that before, of course, but he almost found it unfair. How could he think of any words when she sat there, looking all nice and pretty. “That you like me?”

He had said it as a question, though it sounded more like a statement right now. Lucy’s heart must have skipped a beat or two. She was still sleepy, but the tiny possibility that this wasn’t just a perfect dream made her stop herself from straight up answering yes.

“Well… I hoped my letter was clear on that. You’re my best friend in the whole world, how could I not like you?” She let out a small chuckle at the very idea of disliking a friend. She didn’t, however, predict what he would say next.

Natsu reached out his left hand, touching a piece of her hair that had fallen out from behind her ears.

“But can I assume…” He put it behind her ear, “that you like me more than a friend?”

Natsu’s eyes were darker than usual in the dimmed light, but Lucy saw clearly that he was being serious. Though, this exact facial expression was one she had never seen before. She had seen his tender look, his soft look, his happy look, his loving look, but she had never seen this combination of all. And it was her he was showing it to. In fact, maybe it was exactly this expression that made her admit the truth for once. For so long she had been scared that he would feel bothered or surprised by the very idea of “liking beyond friendship”, or love, as she would prefer to call it. She had been afraid that he would find her fantasies of the two of them living their life together as a couple weird, or even mildly repulsive. That her confession would lead to their friendship breaking apart forever. That, however, could no longer be the case. Lucy wasn’t blind, and she certainly wasn’t dumb. If Natsu looked this… happy? To even assume that she likes him beyond friendship, then the outcome from telling him the truth couldn’t possibly be bad. She tilted her head lightly towards his hand, sharing another smile.

“Yeah. I do like you more than a friend, or a best friend.” Natsu took another step closer, now close enough to make her feel his hot breath on her face that he had tilted upwards, towards him.

“Then…” He bended down slowly to come closer to her sitting position. “Can I kiss you?” His words didn’t come out louder than a breath, but Lucy knew what she heard. Her heart had never danced as wildly as it did when she nodded and closed her eyes as Natsu closed the space between them.

The kiss itself was probably nothing special to someone watching. It was plain and soft, just two mouths pressing against each other. For them, however, it was nothing short of magical fireworks. Lucy’s cool, soft lips against Natsu’s hot, slightly rougher ones sent shivers throughout both of them, as if the small touch had opened a completely new door, a way for them to connect and become closer than ever.

Inexperienced as they both were though, they soon had to break it off to breathe. After less than 20 seconds, Lucy pulled their faces together again. How could they have been missing out on this awesome experience for all the years they had known each other? Natsu knew that this already had topped the list of his favourite activities – even placing higher than eating and fighting. The next time they went up for air, they couldn’t stop themselves from giggling.

“Can this count as a birthday gift if I haven’t slept since yesterday?” Natsu asked, more energetic than reasonable after his long day.

“If that makes you happy,” Lucy smiled, giving him another peck on his lips. Whatever they decided to do from this point on, Lucy knew they would figure it out. After all, if they had managed to overcome the obstacle of going from friends to whatever this was, then they could definitely manage anything and everything else thrown at them. What’s important was that they from this point out, took on every challenge together.

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #nalu #fairy tail nalu #fairy tail fanfic #nalu fanfic #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu fanfiction #natsu x lucy #bumblebeehug writes #yay i'm posting my fics on tumblr #thanks to mya's advice :)

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strawbby-shortcake · 4 months

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"Welcome, what would you like?" ✰ X GN READER! ✰

[♡ Marla, Tyler, and Jack order at a cafe you work at. ♡]

✧.* Marla ✧.*

You never expected to receive any customers since it was an awfully slow day. The cafe was dimly lit with a few chairs and a table in one corner, and a broken record player in the other. You stood around fiddling with one of the bleached coffee filters until the door chimed and a sliver of sunlight creeped into the building for a split second.

A skinny, disheveled woman walked up to the counter and glanced at the menu, then you, then the menu again, and then back to you.

"Hello, what would you like?" you asked, giving her a small smile.

She took a long drag of her cigarette while looking around the cafe. You noticed that she had messy, black hair, slept-in makeup, and a silk night gown of sorts on.

"Something dark, like my soul," she said with a scratchy voice. Probably from the smoking, you guessed.

You simply nodded at the woman and grabbed a cup and a marker.

"Your name?"

"Why the hell do you need my name? It's emptier in here than it is on Paper Street at midnight," she croaked.

You stared at her, your eyebags mirroring hers, and didn't respond.

"Marla. Marla Singer."

You wrote her name on the cup in thick, black letters. Getting her order correct wouldn't be a hard task at all. You brewed a fresh cup of the strongest coffee you could find and gave it to her.

She glanced at your handwriting on the cup. "I'm not paying for this, but here," she said as she laid a torn piece of paper and two quarters on the counter. "...thanks," you responded, grabbing the items and pocketing them.

Marla hurried out of the cafe like an alley cat, not glancing back at you even once.

✰ ✰ ✰ Tyler ✰ ✰ ✰

The record player in the cafe was attempting to play a Pixies vinyl, but it was so scratched up that it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard that it did music. A few customers came and went, the usual cappuccino or grande latte.

The bell that was tied loosely onto the door handle chimed and fell with a sad clank as a tall, nicely-tanned man walked in. He didn't even bother picking up the bell. The man strolled and leaned over with one elbow resting on the countertop and the other on his waist.

Upon closer inspection, he had multiple cuts and bruises on his face and mid-section (which was clearly visible since he was wearing a crop top). Was he even wearing underwear? You didn't ask questions, because frankly, you don't get paid enough to.

He slid his red glasses to the tip of his nose and stared into your eyes. He had a faint black eye. Maybe from fighting, or falling down the stairs.

"Hello, what would you like?"

The man gave you a wide grin, but you noticed there was dried blood on his lips.

"Just your heart, gorgeous," he said with a wink.

You looked at him and furrowed your eyebrows. Who even is this guy?

"Yeah, not happening," you said.

He clicked his tongue and placed both hands on the counter, looming over you.

"You sure I can't convince you?" he whispered lowly.

He leaned in and parted his lips, causing you to place a muffin into his mouth. He jolted in surprise and looked bewildered.

The man scoffed and made his way out of the cafe. He took the muffin with him though. He threw a card onto the floor and kicked the door open with his foot.

After he was no longer in sight, you went over and picked the card off the floor. It was a business card that said: "Paper Street Soap Co. All Natural. Handmade. (288) 555-0153. Tyler Durden. 537 Paper Street • Bradford • 19808."

"Tyler Durden." Interesting.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Jack (The Narrator) ੈ✩‧₊˚

A man dressed in a suit and black shades has been sitting in the cafe for the whole afternoon. Not once has he gotten up to order anything. He just sits there reading his newspaper, sometimes dozing off for a few minutes, or mumbling about some club.

You decide to walk up to him and make small talk, or at least offer him a coffee. There was no one else here, so you didn't see the harm in letting him stay a little longer.

"Hello," you said as you stood in front of the table he was sitting at.

The man looked up at you, acknowledged your presence with a "hmm," and went back to reading his paper.

"Do you want any coffee or anything? What would you like?" you tried again.

The man placed his newspaper on the table firmly and stared at you menacingly. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept for days, some light stubble, and a mole on the bottom of his right cheek.

You stepped back from the table and shrugged.

"Oh well, I tried," you sighed.

The man got up and left his newspaper behind. He left the cafe with a low "see you."

You grabbed the newspaper and noticed a "HELLO my name is: JACK" label that was stuck onto one of the pages. You kept the newspaper in case he ever came back again.

[END]

#fight club #fight club 1999 #narrator fight club #marla singer #tyler durden #fight club fanfic #imagine #drabble #meme #fight club x reader #tyler durden x reader #narrator x reader #marla x reader

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luxurysoapbars · 7 months

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#handmade #gift ideas #soap #trinkets #candles #coasters #soap dish #all natural #christmas gift #resin

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millionmovieproject · 2 years

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Madmartigan Soap Co. is back open for business on Facebook with our great bar soaps, and two new products, with more in the works!!

All products are vegan, organic, handmade, responsibly-sourced, and reasonably-priced.

Check out our new menu, and DM me directly, or the Madmartigan Soap Co. page to make your order. Digital payments and personal checks are accepted.

#vegan #organic #handmade #small batch #small business #vegan soap #vegan bath bombs #vegan salt scrub #ecofriendly #homegrown #all natural

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darth-mortem · 5 months

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I'm trying to learn English by writing short texts on various topics. I'm writing them about Ghost, Soap and other COD characters. So, here is text about travel and rest (613 words).

“Hey, Captain, did you miss us?” Soap asked cheerfully, looking at Price.

“Honestly he didn’t.” Gaz answered and smirked snidely. “He said how quiet and calm it was without you two this whole week.”

“You’re a jerk!” Soap pouted. “It can’t be true!”

Captain Price sighed heavily and turned the page of the newspaper he was reading.

Ghost carried their backpacks to their rooms and came back to the dayroom. He started making tea for himself, Price and Garrick. Johnny didn’t like tea, so he made coffee for himself and grumbled something about fucking Brits.

“So where have you been?” The Captain asked, lighting his cigar.

“We traveled through the Carpathian Mountains by quad bikes.” Ghost said and sat opposite Price. “We stopped for the night and slept in a tent.”

“Wow, sex in nature is cool.” Garrick interrupted. “Hope you stocked up on wet wipes.”

“No need to be jealous, mate.” Soap sat next to Ghost and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Were you hunting?” Price asked because he was tired of hearing stupid jokes about personal life of his subordinates.

“Hell yeah!” Soap nodded and smiled. “And fishing! I caught a huge trout! And Simon cooked a gorgeous soup with mushrooms and grilled fish steaks.”

Johnny told how Simon and he were picking mushrooms and all his prey was poisonous. It was the first and the only time Ghost allowed Soap to pick mushrooms. Kyle was laughing a lot and Johnny kicked him once or twice.

“Where your route had started?” Price asked when the Sergeants calmed down.

“We flew to Slovakia by plane,” Ghost answered, drank his tea. “Then we rented quad bikes and went through it, Poland, Ukraine and Romania.”

“And Transylvania!” Soap interrupted.

“Did you see vampires?” Garrick smirked.

“No, but Johnny was attacked by a bat,” Ghost raised his balaclava and lit a cigarette. “It was at night when he left the tent. I was already asleep, but his screams and shots woke me up”.

“Soap, did you really shoot a bat?” Gaz stared at Johnny.

“Oh, fuck you, guys!” Soap got angry and pouted. “It was a bloody big bat! And very aggressive!”

“So did you kill it, son?” The Captain looked at Johnny with interest.

“Maybe,” he answered. “It was fucking dark there!”

Soap started showing photos and videos. There were a lot of beautiful pictures of nature; their camp with a comfortable tent, camp table and two fishing chairs; their food cooked by Ghost. Soap was in many photos and videos too. Price and Garrick saw how he was riding a quad bike, fishing, trying to help with cooking, jumping from the waterfall naked, even sleeping in the tent. Simon has much less photos and he was in his balaclava there.

“We have brought gifts for you!” Johnny smiled and ran to his room.

He came back very soon, carrying several packages. Price and Garrick received postcards from Slovakia, magnets from Poland, handmade leather wallets from Ukraine and vampire clay mugs from Transylvania.

“Now it’s your turn to go to leave,” Soap said to the Captain and Gaz. “Where will you go?”

“On the seaside,” Price answered. “I want just to lie in the sun, to swim in warm sea and to drink cocktails all week”.

“And I’ll go water skiing and spearfishing,” Kyle said.

“So you will go together too?” Simon asked, bowed his head.

“No, just at the same place,” Gaz answered quickly, and Soap smirked.

“Well, I’m going to sleep,” Ghost said and got up.

“Me too,” Soap smiled. “Good night!” They left together and Kyle got up to make another cup of tea for him and for the Captain.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap #cod 141

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p1nkcanoe · 2 years

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shower intruder

[ mountain x gn!reader ]

summary: you would love to end your day with a relaxing shower... alone... but it doesn’t always end up that way.

warnings: nudity; slight body worship

word count: 844

masterlist

Hot steam rose to the ceiling and stuck to the intricate tiles that made up your private bathroom. It had been a long and tedious day of work around the abbey and you felt your shoulders physically loosen and drop at the feeling of hot water washing over your skin. A variety of handmade soaps and scrubs in uniquely shaped containers adorned the edges of the tub and you took your time choosing the best one to calm your nerves and hopefully relieve some stress. You wouldn’t normally wash your skin first, but the thin sheen of sweat that covered your body was incredibly irritating. You hummed and decided on the citrus one that seemed to be calling out to you; Sunshine's personal choice of wash, made naturally from oranges and lemons from the courtyard. Slowly and deliberately, you generously lathered the soap into your skin and relished in the way that the aromas filled your head.

Your hands then made quick work of your favorite bottle of a sweet smelling shampoo and you poured a puddle of it into your palms before beginning to scrub your tired scalp. Some of the bubbles slid over your forehead and threatened to fall into your eyes so you turned to face the stream of water and washed off your soapy hands to clean your face.

Suddenly, and without warning, the flimsy curtain of your shower is pulled back and you barely manage to catch a glimpse of the very large and very naked ghoul stepping in behind you. “What the hell?” You shriek as your body instinctively jumps, your feet losing their placement on slick porcelain. Two large hands grab you by the waist and steady your balance from behind, a quick apology leaving their lips. And although you’re very thankful that they didn’t let you fall, you can’t help but feel irritated at the ghoul who decided to infiltrate a rather intimate part of your night routine. You turn, briefly meeting the golden eyes of the earth ghoul who has already decided on a tobacco-smelling soap and more focused on pouring it into his palm.

"Mountain, what the hell are you doing?"

"Showering?" The ghoul shrugs and his lips twitch into an oblivious smirk. He reaches up and steals handfuls of water from above your head to spread over his own chest and arms. He begins to wash. The bathroom smells richly of cut pine and tobacco.

"You have an entire room for that,” you remind him.

"It was occupied."

You stand in the steamy cascade of the water and watch in hilarious bewilderment as the ghoul ignores your eyes and goes on about his routine. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by your presence. Mountain goes for another bottle and turns it to read the wording of the label but you’re quick to snatch it from his hands and place it back next to a pink scrub. He finally looks down and meets your eyes.

"... no it's not,” you point out, your lips twitching into a smile when Mountain begins to chuckle at his own lie. “I was down there not even twenty minutes ago replacing the towels."

Mountain throws his head back and groans towards the ceiling, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh come on… Is it so wrong for me to want some time with you?”

“No, but all you had to do was ask— or wait.”

“Whatever— don’t act like you want me to leave.“ He grabs ahold of your waist, stepping around your slippery body carefully so that he’s under the water and your back is pressed to his chest. His clawed hands are so very gentle as he works through your hair and relathers the shampoo that still remains there. You sigh, leaning into his touch and the unnatural warmth of his skin, completely giving into the ghoul that intruded on your shower.

Once he feels that he’s cleaned you an ample amount and that you’re content with the work he has done he once again switches so that he can take his time washing you off. His hands run over and massage areas of your skin where soap has long since washed away, but you happily let him take care of your body. And when he’s all done you surprise him when you guide him under the water and wet him down. He looks soggy and his funny expression makes you laugh. Your hands have to reach to get to the top of his head but he is more than happy to let his posture suffer if it means your fingers are running shampoo over his scalp and cleaning his horns. Mountain begins to purr. His chest rumbles low and deep and pure. Maybe he should lie more often if it means he gets to be worshipped like this. You consider the same idea. Needless to say, Mountain begins infiltrating your showers more often.

#mountain ghoul #mountain x reader #mountain x gn!reader #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #ghost band x reader #nameless ghouls

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busybecomingbones · 2 years

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softie (cod mwii)

A/N: this was supposed to be something stupid so I could get into the groove of writing again but for some reason half way through I decided it would be a good idea to start like five other wips so this is coming out way later than I wanted

w.c: 1.6k

summary: obligatory cat fic I write for every new fandom

warnings: probably some swearing lmao, also my indecisive ass didn't know if this should be a ship fic or platonic so I tried hinting at ghost x reader but didn't commit

“This is the safe house?”

Your tone is incredulous as you take in the house- no you think shack is a better word for it- in all its glory. The building is in the middle of nowhere, some abandoned acre of field, deep in the Russian countryside, and you’re surprised it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet. Each plank of wood siding is a deep brown color that makes you think that all of them are definitely rotten, a few of the windows are broken in, and some of the roofing is no longer on the roof but is instead hanging off the clearly handmade gutters.

Someone shoves past you and makes for the door. “It’ll have to do.” Ghost’s voice is gruff as he twists the doorknob and walks inside. He clears the entrance and signals for you and Soap to follow. You both pull out your guns from their holsters and trail after Ghost as he goes further into the house. As you all split up to clear different rooms, you let yourself feel a little relief since the interior isn’t half as bad as the outside. It’s dusty and cluttered, but you aren’t worried the floor is going to be falling from beneath you.

It doesn't take long to clear the entire building. It’s small, one story with a wine cellar outside by the backdoor. You meet up with Soap and Ghost in the cramped living room. They come in together through an entrance in the front of the room while you enter through a small doorway on the side. Noticing the way Soap is beelining for the tiny, green corduroy couch, you vault over the arm and stretch your body across its entirety before he has the chance to claim a seat. The cushions smell somewhat of mildew yet you can’t find it in you to care. Its the most comfortable thing you’ve lain on in the past month.

Soap immediately starts grumbling but switches course to the sunken-in recliner residing in the corner but not before muttering, ‘Fuckin’ roaster’ and settling into its beige seat. Naturally, Ghosts takes posts near the main doorway to the living room, where you assume he has a view of the front entryway.

With the threat of Soap gone, you attempt to get comfortable. You roll onto your back and try to ignore the way the lumps and attachments on your tac vest dig into you. Despite the discomfort, your body seems to sag in relief as you finally allow the tension to leave your muscles. The mission had been kicking your ass from the get-go and you were going to savor every moment of peace you could get your hands on. As you feel your eyelids start to get heavy, you force yourself to move your head until you face Ghost. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. If he’s in any way affected by you catching him he doesn’t show it.

“How long are we gonna be here?”

He breaks eye contact to glance out of the nearest window, there's a round hole in one of the panes from what you assume was a stone being thrown through it. Like always, his voice is gruff as he responds, “Until Bravo Team RVs here.”

“So you don’t know.”

“No.” He huffs. “I don’t know.”

You only yawn in response. There's a few minutes of silence that follow, the only noise being the tinny sounds of metal hitting metal as Soap disassembles his handgun and cleans it. The quiet is broken when a dull thump sounds from the kitchen. It’s so soft that if you didn’t have years of experience being constantly on edge with your eyes and ears peeled, you never would have noticed. You’re not the only one who heard it either. Ghost’s posture stiffened and Soap halted his movements. There’s a pregnant pause before there’s another soft thump. This time you all spring into action. Ghost moves first, bringing his gun up and disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen, you’re quick to follow with Soap on your heels. However, you aren’t able to get very far because the doorway into the kitchen is blocked by Ghost’s hulking frame.

“Ghost, what the fuck is it?” You hiss.

His responce is a little irked. “There’s a buncha fuckin’ cats in here.”

You and Soap are completely in sync as you lower your weapons and spit out a sharp, “What?”

Ghost simply moves further into the tiny kitchen and slides to the right so you can get a better look. Sitting on the white countertop are four kittens that couldn’t be more than a month or two old and on the floor, what you assume, are their mama and another kitten. The two thumps you’d heard were probably from them jumping from the counter to the ground. The mom wasn’t very old either, scrawny but not mangy. Naturally, she seemed apprehensive of the three of you, her ears pulled back and tail puffed up slightly but she didn’t seem aggressive. Of course, that could change the minute any of you got closer to one of her babies.

“There's so many.” Fighting the urge to walk right up and scoop each and every little ball of fur into your arms is almost physically impossible.

There’s a soft hmph from beside you as Soap puts his knife away, “How’d they get in?” He moves into the kitchen to stand beside Ghost. You don’t miss the careful way he walks, his steps are a little gentler than his normal stomping gait like he’s trying not to frighten the cats.

Ghost nods his head towards a paneless window directly above the sink, “There. Reckon we can scare them off and board it up.”

You scoff. “Why scare them off?” In the time you’d been standing and talking, the mom must have decided that none of you were a threat because she’d shifted from a defensive position to sitting and eyeing Soap curiously.

“They’re vermin,” is his deadpan reply.

“It’s a litter of kittens, not a buncha rats. Besides,” you gesture towards the other man in the room, “Suds over there doesn’t seem to mind.”

Soap was leaning over and running his gloved hand along the older cat’s back, and you could hear her purring from the handful of meters between you. His attention is pulled away when he angles his face up to glare at you but he never stops giving the cat affection. Seeing that their mother seemed to trust the new strangers, her kittens jumped off the counter to investigate.

Most of them made their way over to you, but the smallest one scampered over to Ghost. He merely glared down at its gray, fluffy face.

“Mom’s definitely a stray, there’s no way a feral cat would cozy up to someone like that. And I don’t think Soap is especially approachable.” As you speak, you bend at the waist and start pulling off your gloves. There was no way you were missing out on feeling them with your bare hands. “Babies are barely two months- their eyes are still blue.” After petting each- now incredibly rowdy- kitten, you take one in each hand and straighten. Immediately, you’re met with Soap’s quirked eyebrow and what you can only assume is Ghost’s stony expression. Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “I worked as an assistant vet in high school!”

The two kittens you’d left on the floor swiftly turn their attention to Ghost. His eyes harden again as they run over to him and join the runt who hadn’t left his side, meowing as loud as their little lungs would allow.

Soap barks out a laugh at Ghost’s stiff posture. “You scared of a couple a’ cats L.T?”

“I don’t usually make it a habit to associate with pests.” The taller man eyes the kittens you’re holding. “Probably got rabies or something.”

You hold them tighter to your chest, at least as close as your tac vest would allow, like it’ll protect them from Ghost’s irritated glare. “Actually, it’s pretty rare for cats to-”

It's then that the cats sitting on the ground decide they’re sick of the mask-wearing man ignoring them and promptly launch themselves upward and cling to the worn denim of Ghost’s jeans. They begin climbing him like he’s some incredibly stoic, aloof tree and he flicks his eyes between you and Soap.

“Get them off.” He grunts.

Humming, you meet Soap’s eyes and pretend to think about it.

“No.” You and Soap say at the same time, once again in sync as you start to make your way out of the kitchen. Just as you turn on your heel to leave, you point at the ground near Ghost’s boot where the runt is still staring up at him, “And don’t forget the little one.”

It’s only a minute later when you hear someone muttering under their breath and the familiar heavy stomps of military-issued boots. As you set some of your gear on the beat-up coffee table you see Ghost turn into the room out of the corner of your eye. You have to fight a laugh when you see the two kittens still hanging onto his pants. Except, when you study the rest of him you notice that something is missing and you’re instantly turning around to tell him off for leaving the other kitten. Before you can manage, you’re interrupted by Soap’s bark of laughter.

“Never thought of you as a softie.” He says, a bit hypocritically if you might add since he has his now ungloved hand buried in the mom cat’s fur. She’d curled up there the second he had sat back down in his recliner.

You inspect Ghost again and this time you see what you miss; a little gray face peeking out of one of the bigger pockets on the chest of his tactical vest. This time you do laugh but you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

Ghost’s glare jumps between you and Soap, “Say a word to anyone and I’ll gut you.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty imagine #simon riley imagine #john mactavish imagine #this is stupid but that's the point #pinky promise

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