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thephant0menace · 1 year

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| Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley head cannons

‘Tattoos’

Warning: Simon Riley x fem!reader, strong language, just a cute little fluff cause I thought of this when I was scrolling through Pinterest😻

You always had a thing for Simons arms. You found them so sexy….

You liked how muscular and veiny they were.

But something that really got you was the sleeve of tattoos that covered his forearm.

Simon was never made aware of this, thank god. You thought he’d find it weird…

This was until one day, the two of you were sitting on the couch together on a cold winters day in your little shared apartment in Manchester.

His arms were wrapped around you as you snuggled into his chest, watching a show you forced him to watch. (Probably some roncom he claims to hate but deep down he loves.)

As you watched in comfortable silence, you begin to trace your fingers along the outlines of his tattoos. Tracing out his veins carefully.

The simple touch sends shivers down his spine. The feeling of your nails dragging along his inked skin is so addicting.

You continue to drag your fingers along the tattoos, taking in the pretty designs of the art carefully.

Simon notices you marvelling at his arms and let’s out an amused grunt.

“watcha lookin’ at, sweetheart?”

His gruff voices brings you out of your thoughts.

“Nothing,” you almost whisper looking back up at him, “just like your tattoos.”

Simon chuckles to him self, “is that so?”

You nod, slightly embarrassed but then an idea pops into your head…

“Hey Simon?” You ask with a cheeky smirk on your face.

He hums in response and you sit up properly on the couch, smirk still plastered on your face.

“Can I colour in your tattoos?” You ask trying to hold a laugh in.

His face goes from amused to absolutely dumbfounded.

He sits in silence, staring at you before finally speaking.

“Sorry what?”

“Can I colour your tattoos in?” You repeat.

With a little bit (a lot) of begging he finally gave in and you happily ran off to find markers to begin your masterpiece.

You begin colouring in all the different shapes and designs and occasionally asking Simon what the tattoo meant to him and why he got it.

“What about this one?”

“Don’t fuckin’ know…Johnny made me get it when I was drunk.”

It was also an effort to get the motherfucker to sit still as he was so incredibly ticklish. It astounded you.

“Simon! Stay still, please!” You laugh, climbing onto his lap to try hold his giant squirming body down.

“Tickles s’much, lovie. Fuck-“ he says, burying his head in your neck, trying to hold his laughs in.

Although he complained through the whole thing…deep down he loved it. He found it cute that you were so interested in his tattoos and that you wanted to colour them in.

Would he ever admit it though?

No.

A/N: this was so random but I had the idea and HAD to do something on it! I’m currently working very hard on a ghost smut so get ready for that…hopefully will be up by next week! Thank you for all the love on my last post, love you all🫶

#Simon Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley #call of duty imagines #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Ghost imagines #simon riley smut #mwf2 #call of duty smut #cod smut #cod imagines #mwf2 x reader #ghost x reader #Simon Riley imagines #modern warefare 2

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applejuicebegood · 3 months

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My Home, My Heart - Platonic!141 x Reader

Fem!reader Summary: Y/N has two younger sisters named Emi and Marigold. Y/N has invited her teammates to her farm relax after their deployment, they enjoy an early morning together with Y/N's younger sisters. Masterlist

Cw: Mentions of an absent mother, mentions of alcohol, very cringe writing

Word Count: 2232

The morning air was cold and thick with the scent of brewing coffee and dusty curtains. You winced, pulling yourself from your cocoon of quilts and comforters. You reached for the knitted sweater you left on the floor with a yawn, still tasting last night's bourbon on your tongue. You scratched the back of your head, tangled hair falling down your back. A pleasant sting in your muscles drew you further into consciousness. The intricate tattoos stretching over the scarred skin was a prideful mapping of your stories and ancestry. A permanent reminder of what you cherished most.

You made your way across the familiar path of your bedroom, your socked feet creeking across the worn wooden floor boards. You thumped down the stairs to squint away the morning light shining through the fogged windows. Tracing your nails across the scratches in the wooden railing as you did when you were little. Your farm house was quaint, nestled into a vast, rich, valley that was folded into the ocean cliffside. If you were lucky and the morning mists parted in time, you could see the sun kiss the churning waters golden. The property had been in your family for decades, the imprint of different generations found in the old oil-stained recipe books stored over your stove, the tablecloths and plaid quilts your grandmothers had sewed together by hand, the worn-in farming tools that you had been teaching your sisters to use, and in the welcoming promise of security you returned to after every deployment. You cared for this home, the same way it had cared for you and your sisters. So when money grew scarce and your mother abandoned the property, you joined the military, trained as a combat medic, and sent the majority of your checks back to the farm and into your sister's schooling. Little did you know that in joining the army and eventually qualifying as an SAS soldier, you would find yourself under the command of Captain John Price along with the other chosen candidates for the coveted 141 squad. In which you had managed to find the comfort of home far away from it.

You had found it in their smiles and their hearty laughter. In Johnny's jabs at Simon for his British mannerisms and in your conversations with Gaz regarding his nightmares surrounding the night he first met the captain. You found it in your Price’s encouraging rants about bravery and in his habit to always make sure you had eaten at least one thing that day. You found it in random bars and around a deck of cards, in the bottom of cheap beer bottles and the barracks of the different bases you were rotated between. When you first joined, you believed that you had only two goals, make sure none of these men die, and if they do make sure they don’t die alone. It was only through the many bullets you had to dig out of their muscles and the frantic stitching of open wounds did you begin to see these men as your brothers rather than colleagues. You cared for them with disciplined tenderness, never treating them as broken but always ready to help fix and mend their wounds. And as your first year on the team stretched into three you eventually had invited them to spend a few nights at the farm. Before, only Gaz, Roach and Johnny found time to make the trip. It was only now that you had convinced everyone to come up for at least one night, with Price and his wife meant to be driving up that evening. It was meant to symbolize how far you had come as a team but also a merging between your two homes. A celebration of your camaraderie and friendship, or that's what you told yourself as you stocked up on ibuprofen for the inevitable hangovers you would have to deal with. Your sisters were ecstatic, to have someone else in the house to talk and play with other than you. You couldn’t blame them. In your phone calls with Marigold in the days leading up to your flight back, she couldn’t stop talking about how happy she and Emi were to see their uncle Johnny and to finally meet the mysterious Simon Riley you talked so much about.

Your lieutenant was someone you knew didn’t have a home like yours to return to. You had never forced Simon into feeling obligated to accept your offer, even if you told him every holiday and summer season that he was welcomed in your home and that your sisters would love to meet him. So, when you made your way to the kitchen and saw from across the tiled counter that your youngest was sitting at his side, asking feverish questions about his tattoos while tracing them with her small chubby fingers, you felt a mixture of relief and pride bloom in your chest. ‘Morn’in… you sleep well?’ Gaz asks who stands at your coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. You smile, realizing that the tension that held his shoulders back and his jaw tight had finally dissipated. The cream cable-knit sweater was pulled up to his elbows so as to not get the fabric dirtied with coffee grounds.

‘Of course.. How could I not after last night?’ He smirked, dumping fresh grounds into the machine. You were referencing the long card game you had played the night before. All of you finally went to bed when Roach’s slurred speech was entirely indiscernible, elated from the bottles of Geniuss Johny had brought from his trip into town that day with Simon.

‘Well, you are still the only one who has managed to stay sober, that might change tonight once captain gets here’ Gaz says, you snickered as you pulled the fridge open, finding the coffee creamer. You handed it to Gaz, knowing he is the only one who likes the stuff, you stocked up. In a trade, he handed you a cup of coffee of your own. You took a generous swig, the dark liquid burned down your throat, waking you up.

‘Y/N!’ The squeal of your little sister's voice made you smile widely, giggling at the way she perked up from Simon’s arms, finally noticing you. Her bright red hair was messy and tangled. Your old shirt she had chosen to sleep in hung from her small body with the tube socks bunching down her calves. You set the cup down before crouching down to pick her up and swing her into your arms as she ran into the kitchen, peppering her freckled cheeks and forehead with kisses. After coming back from every deployment, you tried to give your sisters as many kisses and hugs you think they missed when you were away.

‘There’s my little lass! What were ya do’in with our Simon there lovie? This early in ‘da morn’in?’ You cooed, brushing back the frizzy strands from her bright round face. Her arms pat your shoulders in her built up excitement. ‘He- He was tell’in me ‘bout the dwa’ins on his a~arms.. It’s like yours!’ She said pointing back at Simon, who sat idly on your couch. The one requirement you gave him was that he wasn’t allowed to wear his ski-mask in the house. You wanted your sisters to know the real Simon, not the soldier. You chuckled, looking back at your lieutenant, his lips drawn upwards as he looked down at his hands. Gaz reached over and ruffled your sister's hair before kissing her head and turning back to switch on your old stove and pulling out a large pan from your cupboard. ‘Was he now? That is just… huh’ You said fake-surprised. Only your baby sister could have gotten Simon to smile so easily. Gaz softly chuckled as you set your sister on the island counter. You heard Simon scoff, leaning back on the couch. You winked at Gaz, realizing that you and him now had the best blackmail for when you were back on base. ‘What do you want in your pancake’s Emi?’ Gaz asked you sister, fishing out the carton of eggs, fetched yesterday by Marigold from your coop.

‘Chocolate please.. And blueberries!’ Emi said, swinging her feet ‘Is Roach and Soap up yet?’

You ask both of them, fetching another mug and pouring a cup of coffee for Simon. Carrying the fresh cup over to your lieutenant. ‘Kid’s knocked out cold.. really can’t handle his liquor. Johny’s up though.. Took Mari out to chop would I think’ Simon said, nodding as he took the steaming porcelain cup into his large hands. ‘Did he? We should fetch them in a few.. wanna get started on dinner prep after Gaz finishes up’ You say, looking out the window expecting to see your sister and Johnny with arms filled with pine logs, trudging through the thick build-up of snow. You sip your coffee, fat lazy flakes of white drift lazily from the hazy sky. In the distance you can see the plump black bodies of your cows stomping through the blanketed fields, swaddled in their winter coverings. The soft crackle of the wood stove in your living room blended together with the muted conversation struck up between Emi and Gaz. Emi asking him if he had cows and chickens in Birmingham like we do here. You turned at the shuffled Simon standing beside you. One of his hands in his sweatpants pocket with the other wrapped around the rim of his mug. You smiled, hoping that Simon felt the same collective comfort you felt any time you would look out from this window. ‘My sister would never! She.. Sh-’ ‘Oh but she would! She’s an absolute menace lassie..’ You groaned, leaning your head back. Johnny’s voice carried from the back porch. Only now did you realize that having your teammates and your sisters in the same room meant they now had every reason to share the many embarrassing stories of you they had collected over the years. You took another swig of your coffee, smiling at the sound of Marigold's high-pitched laughter as Johnny recounted one of the nights he had to drive you home from the bar with you entirely shit-faced, trying to grab hold of the steering wheel from the backseat. You smiled down at your cup, downing the last of the hot liquid. ‘I’m really glad you're here Si’ You say, just loud enough for the two of you. Looking up at him, you couldn’t tell if the softening of his eyes was from the coffee kicking in or your comment. Either way, to see your Lieutenant so relaxed was rare and welcomed. You were proud that you could give this to him. Repayment for all of the times he had listened to your rantings about your mom’s non-involvement in your sisters lives. For the late-night walks around the different bases after one of you had a nightmare. For the constant reassurance that you could stick behind him and the rest of the team for protection and certainty. He turned to you to say something, only you had turned away at the crack of the porch door opening and snowy boots being kicked off.

‘Y/N! is it true that you were captured by yanks and..and Johnny had to save you? Your sister asked you, her face flushed red from the bite of the cold and the swinging of your axe. Between your two sisters, Marigold looked the most like you. The gentle swoop of her freckled nose and chocolate brown eyes always was a surprisingly reminder that you shared her beautiful features. You took the pale bucket from her arms, filled with split cedar logs. Looking over her shoulder to glare at your sergeant, who winked at you as he unzipped his coat. Snowflakes falling off of his shoulders. ‘You go wash up lovie, breakfast should be done by then, Ya Gaz?’ You asked into the kitchen, receiving a muted ‘yea’ from Gaz. You gently squeezed your sister's icy cheeks. You kissed her hairline, her darker red curls peeking out from the green headband she tied her hair back with. She hurried up the stairs with a hum. You sighed, placing the pale on your hip. You watched as Johnny ruffled Emi’s hair as he got himself coffee before taking his place beside Simon, who still stood watching your snowy farm through the fogged window. You sighed, crouching in front of the wooden stove and opening the hatch. The dwindling flames licked your arms as you placed the fresh wood over the coals. The ambient shrill of laughter and the warm buttery scent of Gaz’s pancakes settled you. You shut the stove with a harsh click. You picked up your baby sister from the counter and set her on your hip, tsking at the chocolate smudged around her mouth. A clear indication that Gaz let her get into the chocolate chip bag. You smiled, looking out over your home. Realizing that the people you cared for the most were all here. Tucked away in your warm, hidden paradise. There would be no surprises, no alarms or sirens, no uncertainty and panic. For once, you were certain in the safety of your team and certain in your care and appreciation for them. You just hoped that they felt the same.

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iblameashley · 5 months

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At Your Pace

Civilian | Male | Gay

1,200 words Content: Toxic relationship, Trauma (implied), Shame, Depression, Happy Ending

Sebastian Krueger | Male

!!!SFW!!!

Old habits are hard to break, and so is the fear that comes from leaving a toxic relationship and the baggage that comes with it. Your new boyfriend, Sebastian Krueger isn't like your last coupe of relationships though. Despite being a stoic soldier to most, he's actually rather caring when it comes to you.

You woke to the rays of golden sunlight piercing through the curtains of your bedroom. For a moment, you just lay there, lost in the stillness and the light. There was no alarm blaring, telling you to jump into action, nor was there angry shouts echoing through the apartment. For the first time in months, it was calm – a feeling you had almost forgotten could exist.

You rolled over in bed to find the space next to you empty and cold. You were shocked when the feeling of disappointment didn't appear. He was gone. He was gone for months now, and for the first time you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

The smell of coffee being freshly brewed perked your senses and encouraged you to get out of bed. It took a moment for you to remember, but your new boyfriend had stayed the night. Sebastian Krueger, soldier, mystery man and doting boyfriend.

You embarrassingly had 'an episode' as you called them. You had broken a plate last night while cleaning up, and started to panic expecting Sebastian to react like him. You profusely apologize – for breaking your own plate – and Sebastian just stood there, confused and worried as the tears had welled in your eyes.

“Hey... Liebling, why are you crying?” He has asked in his gravelly, but tender tone as he approached you.

You had felt like a complete idiot explaining to him that you were sorry you so clutzy and that it wouldn't happen again; which only served to confuse him more.

“Did you cut yourself?” He as asked trying to make sense of the situation. His hands grabbed yours and he examined them carefully, looking for scrapes or blood.

Looking back on it now, as you planted your feet on the cold floor of the bedroom, it was almost comical. You spent the better part of a half-hour in a panic trying to explain to Sebastian what the problem was, waiting for his voice or hand to raise in your direction.

It never happened.

Sebastian simply closed the distance between you two and gave you a long, warm hug and rubbed your back. “Shh, liebling. Its just a plate, its not important.” He consoled you.

After releasing you from his embrace, Sebastian simply moved you out of the way and carefully cleaned up the broken pieces.

As you approached the kitchen, Sebastian stood at the counter, focused on pouring you both a perfect cup of coffee. He was still wearing his clothes from last night, and they cut an impressive figure – the strong lines of his shoulders, and muscular frame were clear even from a distance.

You looked over at the couch to see he had already folded the sheets and stacked the pillows neatly too. You smirked and shook your head. He never would have done, that. He... never would have settled for the couch.

When he finally noticed your arrival, he turned and gave you a soft smile. “Guten Morgen, hübscher.” His piercing brown eyes scanned you intently.

“Good morning,” You replied with a yawn.

You grabbed the mug of coffee and gave an appreciative nod. The coffee smelled almost as invigorating as Sebastian.

“Are you hungry? I've started making some omelettes.” He asked as he turned back to the task at hand.

“I am.” You mumbled. You blew on the coffee before taking a long sip.

You worked your way over to the kitchen table and took a seat, watching Sebastian cook breakfast for the both of you.

You felt guilty and a knot that formed in your stomach. Sebastian was your guest, he was your boyfriend and you were supposed to wait on him. Right?

You gave him a weak smile as he placed the food down and sat opposite of you. “Enjoy.” Is all he said before digging in.

You watched him from across the table – saw how he methodically chopped and chewed every bite, his gaze focused on his plate. He definitely ate like a soldier.

It made you uncomfortable; the calmness of it all, like the build up to a fight.

Your fork scraped across your plate and Sebastian's attention focused on you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked in a calm voice.

Talk about what? Last night? Or the mounting insecurity of this breakfast?

You parted you lips to say something, and then let out a sigh. You frowned and looked down at your plate. “I'm sorry.” You murmured as you played with the last of your – admittedly delicious – omelette.

“For what?” Sebastian inquired with a furrowed brow.

He placed his fork down on his plate before sliding it out of the way. He rested his arms on the table and leaned in, and he waited attentively for an answer.

“For me.” You finally shrugged. How could he not see it? You were the problem in the last few relationships. “For... not being a better boyfriend to you.”

That took him by surprise and he sat back in the chair with a confused and shocked look in his eyes.

“You're a wonderful boyfriend.” He contested with a shake of his head. "You've made this old soldier feel special."

'Old.' It was nearly enough to make you laugh.

“But I broke the plate last night, and you cleaned it up. You slept over, and slept on the couch. You woke up and made us coffee and breakfast.” You replied as you listed your most recent failures.

Sebastian let out a gruff laugh and shook his head again. It made you a little angry, like you were being dismissed.

“Accidents happen, liebling. I'm just happy you weren't hurt. And I enjoyed making coffee and breakfast for you.” Sebastian retorted with a smirk. "I like taking care of you! I like making you happy!"

He leaned back in and rested his elbows on the take.

“As for sleeping on the couch...” His eyes held a glint of mischief, “I slept on the couch out of respect for your personal space, but I'd be happy to join you tonight if you really want me to.” he remarked in a seductive tone.

You damn near choked on your coffee.

Sebastian laughed loudly as he reached across the table to take your hand in his. “Liebling, I am happy with the way our relationship has developed.” He confided as his thumb worked its way over the back of your hand. “I know your last boyfriend was cruel to you, but I promise I will never treat you like that. I will never raise my hand or fist to you. I will give you any space you need to feel comfortable. If that means sleeping on the couch, that's fine. I'll still get to see you in the morning over breakfast.”

“But what about what you want?” You inquired, your voice low and shaky.

“What I want is to be with you. As I said, you make me feel special.” Sebastian's words carried a sincerity you weren't used to. “All I care about is that you tell me what you need, when you need it, okay?”

He gripped your hand in his own firmly.

“But what if I fuck up?” You ask timidly.

“Then you fuck up, and we work it out together.” Sebastian shrugged. "That's what partners do, yes?"

“You really mean it? You really like being with me? You're okay with taking things at my pace?” You prodded him more, still in disbelief.

Sebastian gave a curt nod. “I mean all of it.”

“Then... could we... cuddle on the couch later?” You flashed an uncertain smile.

Sebastian's eyes lit up, “I would love to cuddle with you, liebling!” He exclaimed. “It feels like a good Saturday to be a bit lazy, sit on the couch and have a cuddle.”

The knot in your stomach didn't go away entirely, but you could feel it loosen. Maybe this time was different. You took another long look at Sebastian's rugged feature. Sebastian was different. You knew that much, so maybe things would work out differently this time... with a little work.

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bearjam · 23 days

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GhostSoap shippers and fan artists; I hope you know what you've done to me. You've turned me into one of you and I've never touched and COD game or know its lore. I care about them so much I added them to my 'why these ships should kiss' presentation I did for my birthday. You've created a monster.

#ghostsoap #cod mwf2 #mwf2 #go to bed moth

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nanamin1117 · 1 year

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For the absolute love of GOD I NEED MORE ALEJANDRO CONTENT IM FOAMING, SCREAMING, CRYING, ARCHING MY BACK. I WANT THAT MAN TO DO THE MOST UNHOLY SHIT TO ME I WANT HIM TO **** ** ***** * ** *** ***** *** ********** ****** **** ong I’m gonna come out of my seven year writer’s block just for this man🤰 EVEN IF IT SUCKS

#alejandro vargas cod #mwf2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #johnny soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas x reader

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peaxhyness · 1 year

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thought it'd be silly to see a side to side comparison of könig's height compared to mine

curse my mexican genes 😭😭 i stopped growing in 5th grade.. 🧍‍♂️

#könig fanart #könig cod #könig #cod #mwf #mwf2 #modern warfare 2 #height comparison #-peaxhy's thoughts #silly drawing #drawing #art #ignore how wack everything looks #im too lazy to fix anything #peaxhy's art

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circadianaa · 1 year

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mactavish at your service 🫡

#my art #art #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #mwf2 #soap mw2 #call of duty #mw2

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soapsbullet · 2 months

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Never getting over how activision announced that Graves was still alive like why the fuck did they do it through a trailer for a new season for multiplayer?? And why was farah there??? Also how would he be alive, when you blow up the tank he literally shoved his head out to mock Soap so it’s confirmed he’s in the tank. He’s literally one of the main antagonists for Mwf2 yet him being revealed as alive was the most anticlimactic shit ever. He says he was never in the tank, blah blah then they never talk about it again activision is so lazy Istg

#cod #soap cod #phillip graves #graves cod #cod mwf2 #mwf2 #call of duty modern warfare #soap modern warfare

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quinttyz · 1 year

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A lost in translation situation except they both barely spoke to each other

bonus:

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reginaxxmarie · 1 year

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Ghost & Velvet

a peek into ghost and velvet’s relationship

warnings: suggestive content, violence, blood, swearing

Ghost warmed up to Velvet quite quickly. While he isn’t shy, he is selective about who he speaks to and when. However, with a face like Aphrodite herself and a voice like raw honey, how could he not want to be near her? It began with simple small talk shared over cigarettes, perched on the rooftop as the sun began to melt into streaks of orange and purple. A few shared stories of wars passed and scars acquired, blossomed into tellings of favorite colors and foods. He remembered thinking to himself as the last rays of evening illuminated her face and sent red streaks through her sable colored curls, that her skin resembled bottled sunlight. As time passed they found themselves craving the presence of each other. On missions, he longed for her to stay by his side just so he could ensure her safety and she too, in the midst of her bloodthirsty rampages, would pause to catch him in her sights, just to make sure he was still with her. It took what he thought could’ve been the end for him to finally admit to her that she was special to him.

The blood clung to her like second skin, soaking through her undershirt and long sleeve like a wildfire spreading through a dense forest. The bullet had tore through her belly and lodged itself in her flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Firing two more rounds into the skulls of the assailants, she crouched behind a decrepit building. She had to see the damage, had to know if this was the final nail in the coffin she’d been building for years now. A pained grunt left her lips as she pulled the cord on her vest letting it loose to pull over her head. Shaky fingers lifted her top that was now dripping with crimson. Velvet released a heavy sigh, no exit wound. As she slid down the wall to rest, her comms crackled to life and the rough timbre of manchester filled her now ringing ears. “Velvet, this is Ghost, how copy?” Hesitant, she reached for the respond button on her vest. Should she tell him? Fuck. He’ll be livid if she doesn’t. Maybe he’ll be that way if she does, she’s a liability now, dead weight. She cursed under her breath and mashed down on the button, “Alive..I’m alive.” She spoke through gritted teeth, her chest felt tight and she was beginning to go numb which she knew was not a good sign. Observant as ever, Ghost had heard the strain with which she answered and the soft pants in between words, she was injured. “You’re hurt. Where are you?” He knew. Of course he knew, he always did. His voice was louder now, if she wasn’t so consumed by her own pain, she would’ve thought he sounded panicked. “Velvet! Answer me!” Slumping over on her side, she reached out for the comm, “Behind the church.” was all she had the energy to say before everything went dark.

The smell is what hit her first, clean and clinical like fresh bleach and rubbing alcohol. The afterlife couldn’t possibly smell like this which meant she wasn’t dead. After some coaxing her lashes fluttered and sensitive eyes were met with blinding fluorescent that scalded her retinas. Blinking a few times her eyes began to adjust and she scanned the room, she was in a hospital. The last thing she remembered was lying in the dirt with a bullet in her stomach. Soft snores alerted her to the behemoth of a man folded uncomfortably in the too small chair next to the bed. “Ghost?” she asked, voice hoarse and painful. At his name, his eyes snapped open and fixated themselves on her face, “You’re awake, how you feelin’?” sleep heavy in his tone. With a wince she slid herself up to rest against the pillow, “How do I look?” Velvet asked, words coated in sarcasm. Ghost let out a huff of air that could almost be mistaken for a laugh, “Like hell.” Velvet lifted a middle finger in response. A seriousness came over Ghost as he sat up and rested his arms atop the mattress, “Thought I lost you there.” Chocolate eyes widened a fraction at his confession, he wasn’t speaking for the team, he was speaking for himself alone. Composing herself quickly as not to ruin whatever this was, she let a smirk fall to her lips, “I’ll be fine, afraid it’ll take more than one asshole’s shoddy aim to take me out.” But Ghost wasn’t giving in so easily, “We can’t- I can’t lose you Velvet.”

After Ghost’s admission, Velvet began to see the situation for what it truly was, he cared for her as much as she cared for him. The closer the two became, the thicker the tension grew.

Shutting off the water, Velvet plucked the towel from the rack and wrapped it snug around her frame. Using a smaller towel, she began drying her hair when three rapid knocks came on the door of her room. Brows furrowing at the thought of someone at her door at this time of night she dropped the towel from her hair and made her way out of the bathroom. She turned the handle of the door and poked her head out to find Ghost looming in the doorway, his large frame blocking out the light from the hallway. “Ummm, hi.” she said, a lilt of confusion in her tone. “Can I come in?” he asked gesturing with a hand towards her. Figuring he had something important on his mind to show up at this time, she stood back and opened the door fully as a silent invitation. Making his way into the room, he turned to face her and nearly groaned at the sight. There she was, soft curls still dripping down her shoulders and back, amber skin glistening with the droplets from her hair. The towel left little to the imagination with plush thighs on display and smooth breasts barely covered. Arousal sunk its claws deep into him as he shamelessly drank her in. She looked up at him with an almost too innocent stare as if she’d had no idea she’d welcomed him in, in only a towel. Heat pooled deep in her belly as she watched him practically eye fuck her. His voice was soaked in a lustful rasp when he spoke, “Fucking hell, Velvet. What’re you doing to me? I can’t focus with you lookin like that.” If Velvet was anything, she was an opportunist, and an opportunity of a lifetime was staring her dead in the face. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she grasped at the secured part of the towel and let it fall to the floor. “Does this help?” she asked, looking up at him through thick lashes. As if she couldn’t be anymore stunning, Ghost thought, she was bared to him, all soft skin and lust-filled eyes. The need to feel her overwhelmed his senses and he moved towards her almost involuntarily. A large hand wove it’s way through her hair whilst the other was placed gently on her cheek. His eyes full of hot intensity bore into hers as he searched her face for any signs of resistance, which he found none. Delicate fingers worked their way to the bottom of his mask and began to pull up, but paused. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable, “Is this okay?” she asked. He gave a small nod and she continued, stopping on the bridge of his nose revealing soft pink lips and sharp jaw. Leaning in, Velvet closed the gap between them and pressed her plush lips against his own. Ghost returned the kiss, starting off slow and tentative but as raw need took over, he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip asking for entrance which she eagerly granted. The throbbing between her thighs turned into ache and she let a breathy moan into his mouth. Desperate hands began to roam over her body, rubbing and kneading the flesh of her breasts, hips, ass, he just needed to feel her. Breaking away from the kiss and pressing her forehead to his she sighed, “Ghost…please.” Both of his hands snaked down and wrapped themselves around the backs of her thighs and tugged gently signaling her to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. Carrying her to the edge of the bed, he laid her down as he hovered over her, broad thighs nestled between her legs. He planted hot kisses down her neck and to her collarbone before pausing to look down at her, “Simon.” he murmured. She peered up at him waiting for an explanation. The corners of his mouth turned up into a devilish smirk, “I want it to be my real name that you scream.”

#simon riley x oc #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #mwf2 #cod oc

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iaminsane-blog · 1 year

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Little Lady, Big Guns

part 3 :) (guys should i add a little konig x reader? 😝)

I smoothed down the fabric of my straight legged pants and adjusted the strap of my one shoulder top. Pants for me were almost unbearable most of the time, i refused to wear them for anything other than partying. Getting drunk in pants meant nothing could uh.

slip out. not to be crude

a slight rapping on my quarters door gave me a small burst of electricity down my spine, It was time. I opened the door to a casually dressed, Ghost?

“Come in, Just give me one second.” I left the door agape while shuffling to the makeup organizer on my desk. trying desperate to find my signature perfume scent.

“do you know what’s going to happen tonight?”

The deep accented voice caught me off guard, I realized I had never heard Ghost spoke until now. It brought a small smile to my face.

“What get drunk and swallow a live fish or perhaps have to sing embarrassing karaoke?”

Ghost’s eyes locked to mine and his large frame, decorated with a tight fitted t shirt seemed to straighten up a little.

“They’re going to get you blackout, Mazur. Close to alcohol poisoning”

By the seldom look on his face I knew he wasn’t kidding. But who hasn’t got blackout drunk before?

“Please call me Vera, and I know how to handle myself. But thank you for giving me the heads up.”

The intense eye contact gave my words importance and he nodded then gestured to the door. I took the hint and walked my way into the hall.

“This has to be a joke”

My arms were squished to my side and my legs forced together, by the two massive men sitting in the Jeep on both sides of me. Ghost and Soap the iconic duo decided the best spot for me would be right between them.

“Sorry darling but you’re the smallest one here and only Graves can drive his precious Jeep.”

Sitting next to ghost made me realize just what an absolute unit this man was. This guy could definitely throw some weight around.

maybe he could throw my weight around

The jeep made a tight left that caused me to bump slightly into the man himself, his eyes flickered down to me. I gave him a sheepish smile and maybe if he didn’t wear that damn mask I would’ve been able to see his full reaction.

“And it’s right up here, you guys ready?”

“Just please get me out of these two boulders”

The car doors all opened up and as the two men leapt out I followed suite. Towards the small bar with a wrap around porch. It looked homely enough for a small town bar. The boys were the first to enter, and following I was hit by the atmosphere. Loud music, a couple of pool tables here and there, and framed photos lining almost every inch of every wall. A long sleek wooden bar top was well decorated with lots of men and only a few other women. The three bartenders each had matching old style uniforms and were working diligently through the crowd of drinkers. Further back down a few stairs a small dance floor was semi crowded with people, most of them swaying their hips to the music.

“This place is exactly my kind of establishment.”

I grinned at Soap who shared a cheeky smile, and continued past him to an empty section of the bar. Where I was greeted by a particularly good looking bartender.

“What can I get for you sweetheart?”

He flashed me a toothy smirk with his arms splayed over the counter. Just as I was about to order Graves interrupted.

“She’s new to the base so get her the newbie special”

The man chuckled and shot me a flirty wink.

“Five shots for the new little lady.”

here we go

The first shot of cinnamon vodka slid down my throat easily, and a warm sensation filled my stomach. The next four went down easily as well, and soon a small crowd of people began to gather round. Considering my high alcohol tolerance this could go on a little wild.

“How are you feeling?”

Ghost leaned lazily against the bar, his voice hit my ears amongst the buzz and it took me by surprise.

“Y’all honestly thought 5 shots would get me shit faced? Nice try.”

Soap came from behind me and placed a lazy large arm across my shoulder, giving me slight nudge.

“This is only the beginning Vera”

Ghost’s eyes flickered from my face to Soap’s arm, then shifted to the bar, solemnly drinking his whiskey. A whistle from an incoming bartender drew all of our attention.

“three shots of our most premium vodka, Балкан” (balkan)

The bartender set down a row of three tiny shot glasses, and I went to grab one when Ghost reached out and stopped my hand. His large hand covered most of mine, prohibiting me from taking the drink.

“This the real shit Vera, you have to be careful.”

His eyes bore into mine, almost uncomfortably. But his words along with the 5 shots ignited some rebellion in me. Why’d did he care if I got shitfaced so much? I’m a grown woman, leave me alone attractive ghost man. With a playful smirk on my lips I used my free hand to slip a shot down my throat, all while making direct eye contact with Ghost. His and my eyes did not waver for one second. The burning down my throat slightly unsettled me. but only slightly. A loud cheering from the crowd met my ears, and I threw my arms up in celebration. The liquid confidence soared through my body as I began to feel the warmth in my stomach spread through my body. It was like watching a movie of someone else’s life, my words were not mine but they came from my mouth. Two shots later and my feet carried me to the dance floor. Unfamiliar faces danced wildly around me, but the booming music seemed to flood away all my suspicion. It seems that everyone had dubbed me “Gun Girl” after Soap telling everyone I was an expert guns master. People had given me drinks most of which I placed down. But now I had a particularly tasty margarita in my left hand. A familiar mohawk entered in my vision

and soon Soap was leaning close to me.

“Vera we still have one last stop, come on babes.”

He led me off the dance floor and back to the bar where Ghost and Graves still sat on barstools.

“Ghost, Graves last stop, the place next door?”

Graves stood and stretched his arms and shoulders, finishing off his drink. Ghost however still sat with a drink in hand, and his mask rolled just above his lips. I could see his sharp jawline as it flexed back and forth in annoyance. Why did Ghost come tonight if he was going to sit and pout?

His eyes suddenly locked to mine and Soap let out a booming laugh.

“Damn Straight Vera, Ghosts a little debbie downer”

Had I said that out loud, shit. His eyes flickered with an unrecognizable emotion, sadness? anger? I couldn’t interpret it. A small wave of guilt glided over me but was quickly replaced with the euphoria of mmmm alcohol. I bit my cheek slightly as the four of us all shuffled out out the door and into the cool air. Soap and Graves led the way with Ghost staggering far behind, as we walked the few yards to the next small establishment connected to the bar. Opening the door, inside was a young man standing at a small booth twirling a pencil through his fingers.

“Welcome to Lionel’s tattoos what can I get for you today?”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #mwf2 #cod mw2 ghost #ghost x reader #tattoos

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thephant0menace · 10 months

Text

| Captain John Price head cannons

Being in a relationship with Price

Warnings: fem!reader x Price, strong language, mentions of sex, oral sex, dilf price😏

This man wakes up ridiculously early.

For no reason at all…just likes an early start.

Although the military does train you to do so.

He enjoys working out in the morning then making coffee and reading the newspaper, quite possibly also having a quick smoke…I mean it’s Price, what did you expect?

Old man core💖

Because of this you’ve developed a similar life style.

Wake up with him, work out and then enjoy an early breakfast, curled up with him while he flicks through the newspaper.

Price is a very affectionate man when it comes to you.

He enjoys cuddling with you and just laying in bed together.

He likes having you curled up on his chest.

The soft skin to skin contact is very soothing and therapeutic for him.

Especially after a long and intense mission.

It’s very relaxing to have you cuddled up to him while the adrenalines still pumping through his veins.

He’s the type to walk around with no shirt on for the good majority of the day.

No shirt, just sweatpants.

I don’t think anyone’s complaining though…

This man was destined to be a dad.

10/10 dilf material.

He does the little dad stance while watching the tv.

HE WILL NOT SIT DOWN.

Just stands there quietly and watches whatever’s on.

“John, darling, you know you can sit and watch with me…”

“Nah, nah, ‘bout to have a shower.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“I know.”

If you have kids, when he’s working out the kids will sit on his back while he does push ups.

They find it absolutely hilarious.

He adores his kids.

100% has photos of them in his wallet and vest pockets to show off to 141.

He’s just as bad, if not worse, with the dad jokes as Simon.

John loves taking you on romantic dates whenever he can.

He’s a very romantic man when it comes to you.

Especially after he’s been away for so long.

Even if it’s just at home…he loves to spoil you.

He’s really good at planning nice dates for the two of you.

And he goes all out as well…

Fancy dinner, red wine, candles lit, lighting dimmed, and then good sex.

Price is a proud pussy eater.

He absolutely loves eating you out and will do it for hours and hours on end if you let him.

“Fuck, John. Please-“ you whine out, tugging at his hair.

You were so overstimulated, you had lost count of how many orgasms John had pulled from you at this point.

“Just one more, darlin’. You can do it.” He mumbles into your clit.

He also has a thing for leaving beard burns in between your thighs.

He thinks it makes you look impossibly more sexy, in addition to the pretty little love bites he leaves trailing up your thighs.

A/N: I’m very tempted to do a seperate list of headcannons of the cod boys with kids cause omggg. But let me know what you guys want.

ALSO!!!! A little notice because I’ve started a Post+ for anyone interested in some bonus content. I’m currently working on a special mini fic of Ghost which is very exciting. I’ll release a teaser soon for anyone interested.

Hope you guys are all doing super well, love you lots <3

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applejuicebegood · 3 months

Text

They'll Never Let Me Be - Plationic!Gaz x Reader

Fem!reader Summary: Gaz helps Y/N through a bad panic attack where they open up about their assault. A/N: This is extremly self-indulgent and written based on my own experience. This is also very dark and somewhat graphic in it's descriptions. Please DNI if this is triggering for you. Masterlist

CW: Descriptions of rape and assault. Descriptions of trauma and panic attacks. Mentions of guns.

Word count: 2204

Your skin felt like it was burning. A deafening itch that burrowed through your bones and constricted your lungs. It made breathing difficult. Every time you exhaled it sounded like your vocal cords were being dragged through barbed wire. Your vision felt like it was sliding over ice with how fast it darted around the empty medical wing. The vacant gurneys and silver trays crowded with scalpels cast crushed-black shadows across the tiled floor. They twisted and bent towards you, slithering their way up your calves and over your chest. You pressed your back against the wall, gripping your sides. You could feel through your cold skin the rampant thumping of your heart. The drills you were taught during SAS training about how to internally calm down from a panic attack came to you in quick, jumbled flashes. Visions of your Lieutenant curled on the bathroom floor, his head in his hands, you at his side coaching him on steadying your breathing. Then it was a woman in uniform at the front of a lecture hall, blurred presentation slides on the dulled projector screen behind her. Pat in rhythm your temples or your wrists, put your head between your legs so you don't pass out, call for help, try to identify three things you could see, you could smell, you could feel… You could feel his clammy, damp hands grip your legs, yanking you closer to him. You could feel a second pair of hands strangle your neck, cutting off your screaming. You could feel your fists beat against his chest, trying so hard to get him off of you. You could see his yellowed eyes bore over your naked body. You could smell the sting of sweat and blood as they both pulled away from you, leaving you piled in your own shock. Their jovial laughter reverberating from the door was the last thing you remember before passing out, choking on your tears. It was three years ago, when you were cornered and violated by two male cadets. When they took from you the last semblance of normalcy you were able to cultivate in your role as an active battlefield medic. You didn’t tell anyone. Every part of you became dominated by the fear of shame and possibility. What if your superiors found out? Would you be kicked out? Would they believe you? What if they blamed you? Did you even want to be believed?

You pushed it away, bleached their touch from your skin with boiling water and washed their spit from your mouth with bottles of scotch. You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone, it would be a burden you would have to die with. Even through your transfer into the 141 squad and through your developed friendship with your teammates. You wouldn’t tell anyone. It would be the first thing you came to control over the situation after it was entirely ripped away from you.

Only, you were starting to become paranoid with worry. Questioning if your teammates could see the event written into your skin. You worried that they would find it suspicious how you never let yourself be alone with just one of them outside of missions. Why you never wore the skin-tight compression shirts provided alongside your mission gear. Why you would never let any of them tend to your open wounds. Why you would shrivel away from their touch. Johnny's encouraging slaps on your shoulder after a successful mission or Gaz’s gentle hold on your arm, guiding you both out of a crowded bar, they were harmless. You knew this. But it still reminded you of the hauntingly familiar vice grip those men held on your limbs and neck. It hurt almost as much as the memories, the guilt of applying a fear to your teammates you had grown to love as your brothers. You knew none of them could hurt you, not intentionally. You tried to welcome their touch, allowing yourself the comfort of knowing nothing could happen to you as long as you were with your team. You longed for it, the normalcy of being cared for. But day’s like that ended with you curled up in the bathtub, the water burning as you rubbed your skin raw with the washcloth. Trying to eliminate the memory of their nails breaking your skin as they held you down, hurting you in the worst way a human can be hurt. The shame piled atop of you, shame for not fighting back, for allowing yourself to be hurt so violently, shame for never telling anybody, shame for fearing your friends for something they could never do. Sliding down the wall, you held your head between your knees. Hopefully if you made yourself as small as possible, the memories couldn’t hurt you anymore. You harshly pulled on the roots of your hair, rocking back and forth. Pained moans and whimpers were held back by the bite on your inner cheek. As if your assaulters' curses to keep quiet still compelled you into silence.

You snapped your head forward at the sound of the metal door swinging open. A blurred figure blocked out the harsh yellow light straining from the hallway. Your survival instincts flared, forcing you to move as far away from the door as possible. The heel of your boots pushing you until your back hit against the cornered wall. You reached for your side-arm, cringing as you frantically patted your leg trying to find the handle. You recoiled as the figure ran towards you, shielding your face with your hands, their body now crouched in front of you. ‘Hey! Hey, it’s me! It’s me.. Fuck.. breathe Y/N, you gotta breathe love’ Gaz said, his hands finding your wrists to pull them away from your face. You thrashed and pulled against his firm grasp. ‘No! No.. I.. I can’t.. I can’t’ You panicked, his voice cutting through the thick haze of hysteria, pulling you out of your head and back into the dark, empty medical wing. Gaz reached out to hold your face in his calloused fingers, forcing you to look into his rich, worried eyes. You gripped his wrists as if to break his hold on you, but his warm touch gave you a point of centuring. It began to anchor you in the frenzy of fear you found yourself in. ‘See.. see it’s me, it’s just me..’ He swiped his thumbs over the swell of your cheeks, brushing away the stream of tears trailing down your face. ‘I’m gonna sit next to you ok?’ You forced yourself to slowly suck in a breath, letting it go with a shaky sob. Gaz counted your breaths for you, helping you slow down your heart rate until you could feel your hands again and the blurred edges of your vision dissipated.

‘There.. Fuck Y/N.. scarred the shit outta me’ He said, nudging his shoulder into yours with a breathy chuckle.

‘A flashback?’ He asked. It was a flashback, but not the kind he was privy to. You were conflicted whether to tell him that it was a flashback, but not one regarding your history as SAS soldiers. You subtly moved your chin side-to-side, glaring down at your hands. ‘Do.. Do you wanna talk about it?’ He leaned his head down to try and meet your eyes. You glanced at him, the lines of his forehead pulled tight with worry, his deep brown eyes gleaming in the dark corner you were now huddled in. You exhaled slowly, setting your head back against the wall. ‘Y-ya know how.. Umm, Cap’ was saying that I didn’t accept my SAS qualifications when I first got them.. How I took a year’s leave..’ ‘Yeah..’ ‘I.. something umm.. happened to me’ Your fists tightened as tears started to build up in the corners of your eyes.

‘Ok, do you could.. Maybe explain more?’ Gaz asked, his eyes not moving away from your face.

‘I.. I don’t.. I don’t know. I really didn’t t-think I would ever.. I mean it was so long ago it really doesn't matter’ You scoff, forcing yourself to chuckle as to ease the strain in Gaz’s expression.

‘Don’t. Don’t you dare say that if it’s got you worked up like this’ Gaz says, taking your hand into his. You instinctively squeezed his fingers, a silent reminder to yourself that he wasn’t something you had conjured up in your head. Looking up at the ceiling, you tried to find the right way to explain the one thing you swore you would never explain to anyone.

‘I had just f-finished up with the medic training.. Setting to graduate that week. The class wanted to go out for drinks, so I went back to the barracks to ya know.. get ready and.. and my door shuts and two of my classmates are standing there. They.. they start talking about.. about having a fucking threesome. I start laughing because what the fuck else are you supposed to do? And I say no. They start coming closer and I try to get to the door but they.. One of them pushed me and.. I.. I remember getting punched, I could taste blood and.. and I was on the floor and.. And then they were.. on top of me.. and… ’

The tears flowed freely down your face, your hand not being held by Gaz’s shook violently. It shocked you how fresh the memory appeared in your mind despite the years of effort you made black it out. ‘Oh.. Oh god.. Y/N..’ You felt fear pulse up your arms hearing Gaz’s voice break. ‘You.. you were..?’ The word couldn’t even form on his lips, it was so vile. But the relief of having someone else acknowledge it made more tears drip from your cheeks. You nod, watching Gaz’s eyes twinge wide. Not with realization but with pure grief.

‘Can I.. please hug you?’ He sniffled, quicking brushing his eyes with the back of his palms. Immediately you slunk your head against his shoulder, his arms wrapping tightening around your torso with the other caressing the back of your head. You felt him kiss the top of your head, holding you close. You let your tears dampen his shirt. It was like a nail had finally been removed from your flesh, the wound now bleeding over your skin. The blood would stain you, that shame you had buried resurfacing in a daunting mess. But it was now a mess someone else could help clean. Gaz’s broken whisper suddenly cut through the tight silence. ‘To.. to know that.. that you were hurt like that.. I wanna make those bastards bleed. I want to.. I-’ ‘Well…. n-now you know how i’ve been feeling for the last three years’ You sputter, finding your lips turning upwards through the tears. Gaz scoffs a laugh, running a hand over your shoulder. You both sat, Gaz keeping you close to his chest, as if that possibility of letting you go would cast you back into the memory of your assault.

‘You.. did you.. tell someone?’ His voice was careful, approaching this realization of your past with the same caution he seemed to approach mission combat. You shook your head, pulling back from his chest to wipe your face free of new tears.

‘I.. I couldn’t, I-I was scared I could get discharged and.. I didn’t want to risk losing my SAS qualifications’

‘What.. what happened to.. them? Do you know?’ ‘I.. I have no clue where they are, probably still soldiers…’ You watched the confusion and anger tighten Gaz’s jaw and furrow his brow. It was the same anger you would look back at in the mirror, months after the assault had happened.

‘I.. I want to say “I'm sorry”, but I don’t even think that begins to express how fucking awful I feel for you’

‘I.. I just hope you don’t.. you don't think of me.. differently’

He grabbed both of your hands in that moments, his thumbs brushing over your tattooed knuckles. ‘If that ever happens, you better fucking shoot me’

An awkward choked laugh fell from your lips.

‘What they did to you, what they took from you.. it will never have anything to do with your smile or your kindness. And it was entirely not your fault. And nothing like that will ever happen to you again’

He squeezed your hands, you squeezed back. You had fantasized about words like this being said to you, to be held and comforted. The craving of feeling protected was a privilege you had finally been given back. It didn’t surprise you that Gaz would be the one to bring you this relief. Your wounds still bled, but now you had someone who could stitch them up for you. Someone who you had trusted enough to share the one thing you told yourself you never would. You had always had that, it only took the words to make it tangible. You hugged Gaz, bringing his head against your shoulder. And you both sat there, entangled in eachothers arms with the daunting possibility of what was to be done next but assurance that you wouldn’t have to approach that possibility on your own.

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iblameashley · 5 months

Text

Principled Defence; Discretion Optional.

Civilian | Male | Gay

1,200~ words

Content: Abusive ex's, Harassment, Implied violence, Implied cutting/stabbing, Abuse of power,

Sebastian Krueger | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

Some people only learn the hard way; and in this case, your ex better hope that it doesn't come to that. Your military boyfriend won't stand by and let some loser asshole abuse you, so he takes matters into his own hands.

Krueger looked down at the phone, scanning the vile messages his partner had received, his facade of calm cracking with every new slur that he scrolled past. He let out a surprisingly shaky breath as his thumb moved up the screen.

You had been mad at first, when Krueger took your phone from you to see why your eyes were welling with tears. You weren't trying to hide it from him, not really... but you also didn't want to get him involved in this drama.

But he did see you, he did see the hurt and he took the phone and started reading the message. And then you saw his free hand ball at his side until his knuckles turned white.

“I'm so sick of his bullshit.” You muttered, trying so hard to be strong. You swallowed hard as you took in Krueger's look. “When will he get the message and just leave me alone?” You inquired as you ran your hand down his bicep.

Krueger looked up from the phone and over to you, even though he was still tense, his eyes softened for you. "Don't let him get under your skin, liebling." He said, trying to reassure you; though his jaw was still very much clenched.

You sighed, “It's just so exhausting. It's all the time, now. I don't even know how he got my new number.” You complained as you rubbed your tired eyes. “I'm trying not to...” You add with a mumble.

Krueger looked at you with a grim smirk tugging at his face. “Then don't. Let me handle our little friend from now on.”

You frowned and stared Krueger down. “Seb...” you utter in a cautious tone. You squeeze his forearm. “Please be discreet, I don't need you getting in trouble to defend my honour.”

“I make no promises, liebling.” Krueger replied curtly. “You have nothing to fear from this boy.” The way he emphasized the word 'boy' sent a shiver down your spine.

You knew better than to protest when Krueger got an idea in his head, and it wasn't like his tone left room for argument. His mind was now to task, and you had to hope he'd choose non-violence or that you had bail money.

Krueger pulled out his own phone and he began to craft a text. Then another. And another.

“What are you up to?” You asked timidly. A part of you worried he was calling in favours from his military friends; whom you've only had the pleasure of meeting a couple of times.

“I'm making sure this never happens again. I'm stopping this. Tonight.” Krueger hit send on his phone.

It didn't take long for Krueger's phone to buzz; it was a reply.

It worried you more that Krueger was smiling.

He tapped at his screen a few more times, sending some replies back with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Seb, please tell me you didn't directly threaten that maniac.” You eyes him as he smiled warmly at you.

“It wasn't a threat.” Krueger lied, shaking his head. “I simply informed him of the consequences of threatening my liebling.” he said with a lazy shrug.

He handed you your phone back.

You felt the last of your energy nearly deplete as you shook your head. “So you've escalated the situation and don't think this is a bad idea?”

Krueger pocketed his phone and moved closer to you. “I have no doubts that my approach to this situation will be quite effective.” He said with a breathy chuckle.

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him, placing a loving kiss to your forehead.

“So what exactly did you say to that rat bastard?” You finally asked as your hands slipped around him.

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes.

“You would believe me if I told you I politely told him to leave my love alone?” Krueger questioned.

He was doing that thing he did, where even his eyes gave away nothing, though you knew him well enough to know he was anything but polite in these situations.

“No.” You said bluntly. “Now spill...”

Krueger snorted a bit as he laughed. Despite the situation, he liked this side of you, the side that came out when you really got serious.

“Fine, love.” Krueger conceded. “I told him that there would be physical consequences should he disregard my demand for him to leave you alone.”

He was being coy again, hoping his half-answer would suffice.

It would not.

“Which were?” You groaned.

Krueger contemplated, choosing his words carefully. “I thought you liked a little mystery, that's why you started dating me, yes?” He joked.

“You're sleeping on the couch.” You said curtly.

With a frown, Krueger relented and pulled back slightly so he could look down at you. His eyes studied your face and he grit his teeth.

“I may have implied that certain sensitive areas of his anatomy would find themselves acquainted with my boot if he didn't cooperate. Among other things if it did continue.”

“Oh for fucks sake...” You grunted. You rested your head on his chest and rocked it back and forth. “You know he can take screenshots and send those to the police, right?” You managed to mumble into him.

“I never said I would remove anything, but I did say I could paint a picture with a knife. And that I had a few military friends who'd happily make his life a living hell.” Krueger laughed.

There was a pause as he thought.

“Not all of my messages were sent to him, liebling. I may have also sent a few to those friends with his information. Rest assured his phone will be wiped of any messages or screenshots he takes. He will have no proof of my... suggestions.”

You couldn't help it, you laughed into his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Seb... talk about military over-reach and abuse of power.”

“Ah, but you find my antics endearing!” Krueger remarked happily as his hands found their way to your face, cupping it firmly. “My methods served their purpose, and isn't that what matters?” He asked. His eyes stared intently at you.

“Please try to keep your antics firmly planted in the realm of legality.” You requested. Your hands reached up to caress his forearms.

There was a moment where his mask slipped and he looked sad.

“Liebling.” His hands gripped your face a little harder. “I would do anything to defend you and what we have, legal or not. You're the first person who ever gave me a second look, who cared for a fucked up soldier like me. I will not let anyone take that gift – you – away from me.”

You let out a shaky breath and massaged his arms with your thumbs. After a moment, and swallowing a lump in your throat, you composed your thoughts.

“I know you would, Seb.” You voice was almost a whisper, the weight of his words pressing down on you. For all your problems, he had so many of his own and he still managed to do the heavy lifting for the both of you. “For whats its worth, love... I'm happy you're my fucked up soldier. I love you.”

Krueger lowered his hands to your shoulder and massaged them softly. “Do you love this soldier enough to let him sleep in bed with you tonight?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed with an exaggerated tone.

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