#she actually loved someone and it so happened to be one Simon Ghost Riley

[cerise-on-top]

Ooh, what if Price/Ghost/Gaz/Laswell came across their childhood best friend? Reuniting with reader who was there for them through thick and thin, until they joined the military and lost contact 🙏

I've been reading/re-reading some of your works!! They're so good! Also, I'm sorry those teenagers were pricks to you, hope you have some better days soon!

Hello! I have to say, I'm genuinely surprised anyone reads my rambles in the tags, I didn't think anyone would, but thank you! You don't know how much I appreciate it! Today was already a much better day, which is why I decided to write and post two requests today! This is a lovely request, very nice! Love me some platonic stuff as well! Sometimes all you need is a good friend by your side!

Price, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell Come Across their Childhood Best Friend

Price: He actually thinks about you from time to time, more often than he’d like to admit. You were a good person in his eyes, always there for him no matter what he went through, which is something he could appreciate. His childhood wasn’t particularly bad, but he had some days where he would have loved to simply throw in the towel, which is normal, though. Price was a rowdy guy when he was young, so you likely either went along with some of his ideas or were kind enough to talk him out of them. Either way, he appreciated having you around, so seeing you again would be quite the surprise, he didn’t think he ever would again. If he’s on a mission, then the talk will be kept short, but afterwards he’ll make sure to seek you out again, catch up a bit and ask you how you’ve been. Price didn’t expect to have missed you this much, but he only realized that once he saw you. You’ll either be going to one of the cafes you used to visit nearby, or maybe sit down on a park bench and maybe eat some sandwiches together, just like you used to during the good old times. Since you’d likely be around his age, so roughly 37-38, you’d have a lot to tell. Roughly 22 years you need to catch up on. He’s willing to talk to you, tell you about his career, how he's been doing, about the people he’s met and how he’s feeling. Considering this much time has passed, there’s a good chance you’ve both mellowed out quite a bit, but it isn’t unpleasant, you’re both mature people now. He likes hearing about everything you’ve accomplished, it’s like you became a new person during all those years. It’s so lovely to him, he sort of can’t believe it. Whether it’s a coincidence, or maybe you sought him out, it doesn’t matter, spending time with you again brings back all those memories he thought he had since forgotten about. He laughs, he smiles, he frowns. He’s a bit more expressive with you, but really wants to reminisce about the good old times. Even so, he hopes to be able to see you again more often, so you’ll likely exchange numbers. This time he tries to make sure to not lose contact with you and will text you every once in a while.

Gaz: When he was a child, Gaz was a lot calmer than he is today, a very quiet kid. He had always been a good boy, a gift in the eyes of many, but he wasn’t as active a child as one would imagine. Ergo he didn’t have very many friends until he became older either, but he was loyal to the few he did have. You were one of them. As you slowly started to grow apart, he started to miss you, but didn’t want to bother you either, as much as he would have loved to do so. So I’m sure you can imagine the surprise on his face when he found you at the mall the two of you would hang out in during rainy days. Gaz has become more confident, so he’d immediately walk up to you once he recognises you and start talking. Like Price, he’d be pleasantly surprised to just see you in such a mundane place, but won’t question it. Or complain about it either. In fact, if you’re not carrying anything heavy, he’d be the one to suggest going out to eat or drink something. Again, either a small and quiet cafe or a small restaurant. Maybe you’d go to a place you liked when you were kids, if it’s still open. Regardless, it’d be hard to get him to shut up with how excited he is to have you around. It’s a calm kind of excitement, but he’s happy, and that’s what’s important. It’s very likely that he’ll pay for your food, even if you insist he shouldn’t, but it’s not like he has any other use for his money. Chatting with him about the good old times is very sweet, he likes to bring up all the good things. But eventually, he’ll thank you for everything you’ve done for him and how happy he was to have you as a friend. Considering there were very few people who tried to get to know him, he was quite lonely, but you fixed that. You made everything better. From the pain on his knee when he fell as you gave him a band-aid, to the pain in his heart when the other children ridiculed him. Like Price, he’ll ask you if you want his number so you could continue to keep in contact with each other. He knows it’ll likely never be the same again, but he can pretend everything is as good as it used to be back when he was young. He’d love to spend time with you again.

Ghost: This man has had one of the worst childhoods imaginable. He was abused by his father, and the only friends he had aside from you were his mother and his brother. Barely anyone was kind towards him or accepted him considering he had always been the weird kid. No one but you wanted to spend time with him. Needless to say, Ghost had taken a liking to you when he was younger. You spent your time with him, you even defended him when some of the other kids ridiculed him. And now, 12 years later, he finds you running after a coin you accidentally dropped on the ground, bumping into him as you did so. He’d be wide eyed at first, a bit quiet as well. Once you left he never would have thought he’d ever find someone like you again, but here you were, just as quiet and surprised to see him. Ghost would pick up the coin for you and ask you how you’ve been. It had been a while. Although he’s not usually one to smile, especially not in public, you could see him faintly do so. He’s become a quiet man, so he won’t be talking too much about everything, especially not everything that happened after he joined the military, but he’s more than willing to talk to you about other matters. His life has become better over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean he isn't scarred still. He’ll offer you a walk to just about anywhere, really, even if the final destination will always end up being one of the places you used to hang out in as children. An abandoned house, a park, a mall. Manchester is a fairly large city, so there’s much to see. It would be a bit rough to catch up with him entirely, but he loves to hear about everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve become such a mature person, it warms his heart to see how far you’ve come in life. Back then, when everything was so bleak, when neither of you thought you’d see your 28th birthdays, everything was different. But now, you’re smiling at him as you’re drinking your milkshake. You seem to be better off, and so is he. It makes him nostalgic to see all of this, but he’s happy. Ghost will offer you to come to his home if you want. Even now, he still loves you dearly as a friend and couldn’t be happier about the fact he’s found you again by chance.

Laswell: When she was young she was a healthy mix of rowdy and good. While she never caused much trouble, she did stand up for herself when she needed to. However, this alone was enough to get the attention of some awful people. People either liked her or hated her, there usually was no inbetween for them. Some people did try to bully her, but it never ended well since she would fight for herself, plus she had some good friends who would do the same for her. However, none of them could compare to you, as you were her best friend. All her joys she would celebrate with you, and all of her sadness she would share with you. Back then, things were simpler, something small meant the end of the world, but you always had each other’s backs. Laswell tries to not think about you too much since you slowly drifting apart is quite painful to her. As she grew older, she learned to live with the pain and it didn’t bother her as much. Still, she was very happy when you were sending her a message after all this time. She may have been at work, but responded to you immediately, having missed you just as much as you missed her. Once you meet up it’s evident you’ve both grown a lot older. Laswell has been working for the CIA since her twenties, so it’s been almost thirty years. You have a lot to catch up on, but you take your time, eating at a fancy restaurant and spending hours there, laughing at everything that’s happened. Laswell would show you photos of all the places she’s visited during her downtime. She’s seen almost the entire world, some of it with her wife, some of it without her. Although she doesn’t usually tell people she’s married, to another woman too, she knows you’re a safe person, you’ve always accepted her as she was. Considering how happy you looked when you saw her wife, she continued to tell you about the world. But you get your chance to tell her about everything that’s happened to you as well. If the conversation goes especially well, Laswell might invite you to a few outings every once in a while, after you’ve met up a few more times. Plus you get to meet her wife eventually as well, which is a real privilege. Considering how much she loves her and wants to protect her, not many know about her. It’ll be fun either way since you get to make more memories together again.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #seeing that someone read my rambles actually really cheered me up yesterdy so thank you for that! #this request was really sweet. I have a friend who I miss so dearly even now #I still dream of her from time to time. she was my best friend but I never was hers #Sometimes I wish I had the guts to text her but I'm awkward and can't hold a conversation to save my life so I'll have to live like that #oh well! it happens unfortunately! wish it didn't though! #anyway as much as I love to romance the lads and the lasses there's something so wholesome about friendship too! #especially a really good one where you can goof around and have fun and give each other sweet gifts! #Love friendship! friendships are fun! I'm glad I get to write platonic stuff every once in a while as well! #I'm not a romantic person at all irl but I can appreciate a good friendship! #thank you for this request it was very cool and epic!

[seresinhangmanjake]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!reader

Summary: Because Johnny found him sleeping with his sister, Simon had to live the last three months without you, but he's about to get his girl back.

warnings/notes: a little smut 18+, cursing, drinking. That's probably it. Oh, typos, im sure, as well.

words: 1830

Part 1

He drinks at the same bar. The one his team practically lived in when they were all together for an evening, but that doesn’t happen anymore, not with the entire group. Johnny stays home if he knows Simon will be attending the night out, and Simon, if informed Johnny wants to be with the team, elects to remove himself from the situation for everyone’s comfort. He figures it’s the least he can do. He’d slept with his best mate’s sister, he’d fallen in love with his best mate’s sister, and so he has taken on the consequences, no matter how infuriating and unreasonable and unfair. 

“You want another, Honey?” the bartender asks. She grins. Her eyes shine with desire, as they have all night, and it might be a pleasant sight if Simon had never met you. He might’ve taken her home, fucked her like a toy until he was spent and she was happily ruined by his cock before he kicked her out. But she isn’t you. No woman is you.

“Keep ‘em comin’,” Simon replies, downing the amber liquid in his glass. 

Suddenly, the stool beside him slides across the hardwood floor, now occupied by a newcomer he wouldn’t hesitate to shove to their ass if he could do so without causing a scene. What kind of rude bastard risks sitting next to someone when ten other seats are open?

“Actually lass, do me a favor and cut ‘im off. I need ‘im in his right mind.”

Simon almost chokes at Johnny's voice but he doesn’t turn his head as he slowly sets the glass back down on the counter, his fingers tightening around it. Anger, confusion, pain, anxiety. It all crashes over him in a hefty wave, because rolled into this one man is both the friend Simon has missed for months and the asshole who has forced him to be apart from the love of his life. And it’s almost too much to handle at once.

“I’ll take his drink,” Johnny tells the bartender, who has lost all hope now that the man she’s been attempting to charm is no longer lonely enough to be convinced to take her home. When she places the glass in front of him, he takes a sip. “You look like shit, Ghost.”

“What do you want?”

“We got a problem,” Johnny says, getting right to it. “A bit of a disaster, really, and I gave it my best shot, but I can’t fix it.” Simon blinks. His brows pinch. Johnny drains the remainder of the alcohol and wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. “She’s miserable. And considerin’ the timeline, I’d wager it’s because she’s without you.”

Simon’s heart—though had fallen from his chest months ago—sinks lower into his gut. 

“Look, I didn' believe it was that deep,” Johnny continues. “Figured you were jus’ messin’ around. Being stupid and disrespectful with my baby sister. But I cannot have her miserable, Ghost. It won’t do.” He looks at Simon and releases a long sigh. “She loves you. I don’ like it but she does, and you need to make it better.”

“What exactly are you askin’ of me?”

Johnny’s eyes land back on the empty glass. He plants his elbows on the counter and rubs his fingers across his forehead, kneading the wrinkles. “Just…go to her, alright?”

That snaps Simon out of his grumbly attitude. “You serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Johnny says. 

Simon practically leaps out of his seat, nearly knocking the stool to the floor as he shrugs on his jacket. He’s almost at the door, but then he stops. Taking a breath, he turns back to his old friend. “Will you be able to handle this?” Simon asks. “Me and her? Because you can't ask me to let her go, Johnny. Not twice.”

Johnny takes a second, then he gives a brief nod. “I’ll adjust. Somehow. With time; lots of time.”

It isn't much reassurance, but it's enough for Simon to be on his way. He rushes out the door, jumps into his truck, and races down the road. He forgets the seatbelt. Ignores the speed limit signs. You don’t live far, and you’re worth the risk if it means getting to you faster. 

He knows the elevator in your building is much too slow because he’s been in it a hundred times. He has made out with you in it; fucked you in it, slamming the emergency button so no one could interrupt on the nights you couldn’t wait to get to your bedroom. So he takes the stairs. Two at a time, up eight flights, and down the hall. With a heaving chest, he bangs on your door. 

“Love, open up!” He knocks harder. Loud enough to make your neighbor pop her head into the hall to understand the ruckus. 

“Oh, wonderful. You've returned,” the old woman huffs. “And just when I was starting to believe I’d never again have to endure listening to that moaning and groaning at all hours.”

“We talked ‘bout this back in June, Mrs. Brimsby. Get yourself some earplugs,” Simon retorts before calling for you again. “Baby, please, it‘s me!”

“I’ll report the two of you for the noise.”

“You probably should. You’re in for a long night.” He hears a scoff but doesn’t bother to glance in the direction it comes from. 

“Still so disrespectful,” she spits before slamming the door to her apartment. 

Simon has held a low level of hatred for the old bat since the morning after the first time you’d slept together. It was an early Sunday full of soft touches and kisses and tea to nurse the mild hangovers you’d both had because of a couple of drinks the night before—the drinks that allowed the two of you to finally surrender to the sexual tension. After kissing you goodbye, he’d stepped out of your apartment with a smile he hadn't donned in quite some time, only to have it wiped away from the unexpected grandma in a collared nightgown tapping her foot as she stroked the fur of the cat in her arms. 

“You kept us up all night,” she had scolded. “We need our sleep.” The cat then hissed for emphasis. 

Now, Simon has never been so happy to have that woman blathering in his ear. She reminds him of home, because home is with you and this is where you are. Getting yelled at shoots him into the memories of the time you spent together all those months ago. The stupidly high levels of bliss that, based on the trajectory of his life at the time, he’d assumed was more of a myth than anything. But you had made it real. You had soothed the pain. You were the patch on his wounds; the brightest spot in his life which dimmed the trauma and horrors. 

He’s so lost in those thoughts that he doesn’t immediately notice when his banging fist plummets through the air.

“Si?”

At your voice, Simon’s mind instantly clears. His eyes meet yours.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters, not letting a beat go by before he’s bending at the knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, and lifting you up. Instinctually, your arms snake around his neck, your legs circle his hips, and he feels his cock begin to swell from the reminder of how natural that action is for you. How right it is that you fit together like lock and key. 

Many questions are brewing in your eyes, but you don’t ask them. You kiss him instead, hard and thoroughly as he carries you into your apartment and kicks the door closed behind him. When he sits you atop your kitchen counter and settles himself between your spread legs, his hands go everywhere; under your sleep shirt, up the curves of your body to squeeze your breasts then back down to your hips. His palms slide around to your ass and jerk you closer so the center of those thin little shorts is pressed against the mound protruding from his jeans. 

Buttons scatter across the tile from his impatience, unwilling to delicately undo each tiny closure of your shirt. Your fingers trickle lower on his body to the belt buckle you quickly undo and the zipper you harshly yank down. He’s about to tell you to lift your hips, but you do so without his command, shimmying out of your shorts, and Simon takes the chance to do the same, pushing his pants just below his ass. He springs free, the heavy column of flesh landing at your navel. 

Leaning back, you guide his cock through the slickness of puffy lips into your tight, clenching walls. It sucks the air from his lungs. His head falls to your shoulder as you both try to breathe at a steady pace. His hands brace on the counter on either side of your body, nails digging into the granite. Home.

“Simon…baby, you have to move,” you pant. “I c-can’t take it.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers in your ear before lifting his head and placing a quick peck on your mouth. Shifting his hips, he pulls out and then slowly eases himself back inside of you. His groan drowns out the sweet song of your moan. “I’ve got you, love.”

—

“Your neighbor still hates us, jus’ so you know,” Simon says as he slides under the sheets. Were he not so exhausted, he’d chuckle at the idea of being beside you in your bed and not immediately trying to fuck you, but after the kitchen counter, then the couch, then the living room floor, you’re both worn out and in need of a good night's sleep. “Probably more now than she did before.”

Normally, you would have found his words amusing, but you remain silent on your back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Simon raises a brow and flips onto his side. Then he sees the tear slip from the corner of your eye down to your ear. 

“What're you thinkin' about, love?” he asks as he places his hand on your cheek and turns your face toward his. 

“I'm scared,” you tell him. “I've missed you so much, but the second you leave, everything will go back to how it was without you. That broke me the first time, Si. How do I go through it all over again?”

His eyes pinch tight and he sighs in shame. He should have told you. It should have been the first thing out of his mouth, but then he saw you and he needed you and that was all that mattered in the moment. “Baby,” he begins, brushing the hair back from your face. “I'm not leaving you, and we are not goin’ back to that, ok?”

“But Johnny—”

“We don't need to worry about Johnny.”

Your eyes widen. “What? Why not?”

“Because, love,” Simon says, his hand finding the middle of your back and snuggling you into his chest, “Johnny sent me.”

@universitypenguin @ghostslittlegf

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fic #cod ghost #cod fic #mw2

[soapsbaby]

Bunch of Deviants

Summary: Assigning one kínk to each of the main CoD characters that I headcanon them to have.

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Alex Keller, all x gn!reader Rating: NSFW (minors DNI) Word count: 1100ish

Ghost - Size Kink

He loves using his size to his advantage and making you feel as small, and in a way vulnerable, as he possibly can. He adores the fact that he can just pick you up and fuck you against whichever surface he wants with ease.

Will place his cock on your stomach and give you a cruel smile. That's all going to be inside of you, sweetheart, think you can take it, hm?

He loves sometimes seeing you struggle a bit with his size, the way your eyes start watering when you try to fit him all into his mouth or the delicate little whimpers when he first starts pushing into you.

Soap - Exhibitionism

Soap loves to just do it whenever and wherever the possibility arises, be it indoor or outdoor. Literally you can’t think of many places you haven’t done it, be it his office, every room in your apartment, the local woods, his car, in an alley behind a club you were partying at. He's always down to just pull your underwear to the side for a quick fuck.

He really gets off on the possibility of someone seeing you or walking in on you (even though he’d probably get slightly embarrassed if it actually happened and thank god it hasn’t yet).

No… No, Baby, I don’t care if anyone sees. Let them see. Let them see how well I fuck you.

Loves sneaking off with you at events and just taking you in whichever free room you can find. He loves the thrill of acting like nothing happened afterwards, seeing you slightly struggle to walk straight. 

Price - Sugar Daddy

He loves treating you and making sure you are always taken care of. You are on his credit card with no limits.

He gets off on knowing that you are treating yourself and can get anything that makes you happy and he loves when he is at work and gets a text of you wearing whichever new clothes you bought with his money. 

He would never deny you anything (within reason) but he loves when you whine and beg for it a little bit. 

His favorite part, of course, is when he gets to take your fancy new clothes off of you or, if possible, just fuck you in them.

Gaz - Body Worship

It’s not even that it’s necessarily a kink of his, he just can’t help himself from praising and worshiping you the moment he gets to see and feel your body, let alone when he’s inside of you. 

He is so genuine when he starts praising you, paying attention to every part of your body and just babbling on about how much he loves all of it, how smooth and soft you feel.

Loves when he can take his time before sex and just massage you, kiss your entire body and take however long he needs, baffled that you are his and his alone and how lucky he is.

Alex - Bondage

He loves when he just gets to let go and have you take charge, tying him up in whichever position you’d like him in and then take him like he belongs to you. 

He loves the sensory experience of it, the rope on his skin and immobility that comes along with being tied up, however he also loves how the decision-making is taken off him and he can turn off his brain for a while and let you take charge.

Is a little embarrassed by this but he loves when he’s tied up and can’t fight you overstimulating him, just having to take it.

Farah - Sensory Play

She is not much into anything rough but she enjoys playing around with different sensations, especially when she gets blindfolded and all of her senses are heightened.

She loves experimenting with temperatures, one of her favorites is wax play, even though for her that can already be on the border of what is too painful. Still, she loves the sensation if you drip it from high up enough and the way it looks on her skin.

König - Praise and Humiliation

He thrives on you talking through it, telling him how well he is doing, how good he is making you feel, that he is your little toy that you can do with whatever you please.

You have tied him up before but it is never necessary. He will just take whatever you throw at him, so eager to make you feel pleased with obedience that there is no need to restrain him. If you tell him to keep his hands behind his back then that is what he will do without question. 

Doesn’t use that many profanities in his day to day life so it is very easy to humiliate him by making him repeat your words. “Say it, König. Who is my little fucktoy, hm?” “M… Me.” “No, sweetheart, the whole sentence.” “I… I am your little fucktoy.” “That’s right.” 

Alejandro - Breeding

His breeding kink is his biggest weakness. Whenever you tell him to put a baby in you his thrusts will start to stutter, sweet moans spilling from his lips, mi amor, you know we’re not ready, we can’t… we shouldn’t- and then, against all better judgment, he will come inside of you regardless, staying inside of you for as long as he can afterwards to make sure none of his cum is wasted.

Rudy - Edging

He likes using the time he has off work to the most and making sure he takes as much time with you as he can. He simply enjoys pushing you to the edge as many times as you can take and then eventually push you over it, making sure he keeps going and overstimulating you until you forget your own name.

He knows your body by heart, knows how to read you like an open book and can tell exactly how close you are and when he needs to stop. 

He will be so frustrating that it makes you go insane. He takes such pleasure in your desperation and at the same time is so patient. It doesn’t matter whether you are begging him to fuck you, he won’t until he has decides it’s time.

Valeria - Sadomasochism

Valeria is just into pain, going both ways. She just enjoys all of the scratching, biting and slapping that comes along with having sex with you and it doesn’t matter whether she’s topping or bottoming either.

Usually by the end of it you are both covered in bruises and scratches, she doesn’t care. She likes you marked up so everyone can tell that you are hers. 

#so tempted to put Graves as just ''feet'' and not elaborate #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #alex keller x reader #farah karim x reader #valeria garza x reader #captain price x reader #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #ari writes

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost riley #ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ej’s fics #ej’s writing

[sim0nril3y]

Push and Pull - Part 2

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon just can't seem to get you off his mind following the abrupt end to 'Push and Pull' Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mild angst, reconnection, joking about kidnapping a dog, Simon being his usual guarded self, canon-typical swearing

It had been a long couple weeks since your last interaction with Simon. In your head you understood that you were being a little sensitive that he hadn’t wanted something more with you, but there was another part of you that couldn’t help but feel used… You wondered, if he hadn’t wanted anything more serious then why had he strung you along so romantically? If he wanted sex and intimacy then why be so adverse to it in the beginning? Why not just sleep with you that first night and keep all emotions out of it?

“So, what happened to that bloke you were seeing?” Your friends voice broke through your fuzzy mind. It was a moving out party for one of her colleagues that was heading North. It wasn’t like you had even wanted to be here anyway, but she had convinced you it would be a good time with a bunch of booze – that promise was enough to get you into a nice dress and off your sofa watching re-runs of ‘Come Dine with Me’. “You seemed really into him…”

Yeah, you had been really into him, but… it clearly wasn’t meant to be. “Yeah. I think we were just both looking for different things.” You really didn’t need to spell it out for her to understand. An almost sympathetic look pulled across her face before she clinked her beer bottle against your own. “His loss, babe. I’ll go get us another couple of drinks.”

It was part hurt and part relief that there had been no communication within the past couple of weeks. He really hadn’t meant to make you feel like he was just using you, but maybe this way you might be able to move on and find someone that would be able to give you more than he was able to. Simon really hadn’t the thought of you being with someone else. He hated thinking about you teasing and laughing with them. He hated thinking about you on your knees for them. He hated thinking about your mind being consumed by them. It was for the best. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t built for love or affection. No, everything around him was death and destruction and he’d be damned if he was going to inflict that on you too.

As he sat watching the football highlights his eyes caught a glimmer of something beneath the coffee table. Leaning down he plucked up the small piece of jewellery in his hands and inspected it. He recognised this ring, it belonged to you. Just put it back. Fuckin’ throw it out. It’s junk jewellery. Even with his cruel inner monologue trying to warn him off Simon still rang your number. It rang and rang and rang. For a moment he thought that maybe you weren’t going to answer.

“H-hold on-” Your voice came down the line. There was mixture of music and voice down the speakers that told Simon you were out at the moment. Of course, you were… “Hello?” You asked as you finally got to place that gave you a little bit of peace. “I have something that belongs to you…”

There was a beat of silence before you muttered back. “You sound like a supervillain.” You should have been angry with him, but there was humour that laced your voice. “Do you have my dog or something?” Simon begrudged himself as he laughed lowly before responding. “Bloody hell, you really must think I’m a monster if you think I’ve kidnapped your dog…” It was just so easy to have this banter with you, like no time had passed at all, or there hadn’t been any hurt between you.

“Well, I’ll be a little concerned because I don’t actually have a dog…” You responded with a small laugh and he groaned as he covered his face with his hand. “Why would you be worried that I’d kidnap your dog if you don’t have one?” Trying to figure out your brain was like trying to solve a very intricate puzzle, but the moment your laughter lilted down the line Simon found himself smiling. He’d missed it. He’d missed you. “It’s actually a ring I found… it doesn’t seem my style so it must belong to you.” He mentioned observing the small band in his fingers.

For a moment you were quiet before stating. “It might belong to one of the other girls you’ve brought back to your flat…” There was jealousy linger there, along with hurt that hurt his heart. “I don’t bring other girls back to my flat.” Only you, he wanted to add but the words never formed in his mouth. “Do you think… can I bring it to you?” He questioned with a crease forming in his brow. There was a part of you that had wanted to deny him, but… another part… a more needy and affection part spoke first and louder. “I’m at a party… but sure. I’ll send you the address.” He could hear the way that you attempted to be nonchalant but there was there affection there.

It didn’t take long for Simon to leave once she sent him the address and honestly it wasn’t hard to find the house as he drove down the road. Each other house was quiet, curtains closed and dead to the world, but the one he pulled up outside of was lively, music pumping from inside and people filtering in and out. By the brick fence his eyes spotted you, lingered there looking at your phone as if you were trying to keep yourself busy, or at least look as if you were for when he arrived.

Climbing from his car he approached and you glanced up. “That didn’t take long…” You noted and then looked him up and down. “So, do you have my ring, or…” “Bollocks. I left it in the car…” He cursed softly. “Do you wanna come get it?” He asked and you eyed him suspiciously before wandering over and climbing into the passenger seat. Just like you imagined his car was just as organised as his house, there wasn’t an item out of place and it smelt like fresh pine. He climbed into the driver’s seat beside you and collected the ring from the centre console and placed it into your open hand.

“Thanks…” You hummed quietly twirling it around your fingers before sliding it on, the whole time keeping your eyes trained on it. “I think I owe you an apology…” Simon began and you looked at him. “Don’t be silly. We were just having fun, right?” He saw the way your smile pulled into a fake smile, trying to act easy-going but he saw through it right away. “Listen, I still don’t think I have a good answer for your question… what were we doing? Fuck knows, all I knew was that… that you…” He looked direction at you, intense eyes setting you completely still. “You have pushed me and challenged me and fucking terrified me more than anyone has for…” He really had to think. “Forever.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you.” He mentioned rubbing his face softly. “Is that a bad thing?” You asked then a look of concern set on your face. “No… No, it isn’t… I’m just… trying to figure out how to deal with all this.” He frowned. “This isn’t easy for me and I know that me being like this doesn’t make it easy for you either…”

A frown set on your face, twirling your ring again slowly before looking at him. “I told you from the beginning at your pace…” Then looking at him. “I just wanted something… just a little something to try and tell me I was on the right path… or that I hadn’t ruined everything…” Reaching across Simon took your hand, squeezing it so gently. “You didn’t ruin anything.” Then bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles sweetly. “I wanna take you out again… if you’ll let me…”

There was a beat of silence between you both then and Simon wondered for a moment if maybe you’d decline. “Okay…” You said, softly and sweetly before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Okay.” He responded with a small smile finding his lips. “I won’t fuck this up.” “You won’t.” You agreed softly as he brought your hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Masterlist | Ask | 03-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #ghost #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

[vhsgoghs]

bodyguard (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: (Y/N) decides to open up to her bodyguard for the first time. word count: 1780 note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here ★ spanish ver on wattpad (vhsgoghs)

She wasn't one of the typical spoiled girls who loved shopping and hated everyone. She love shopping, but she was kind and usually shy.

Or at least that was before, before that girl named Molly crossed in her life.

Molly was one of the new girls at school, but for some reason she had gained popularity too quickly and (Y/N) was just trying to fit in, no matter that it meant going out to parties with people she didn't really like at all.

But it happened again, sitting on the sofa in the living room, after having received a scolding from her bodyguard when trying to escape from home at night.

Oh yes, her bodyguard. Simon Riley, a former military man who was now in charge of taking care of children of millionaire people, or at least that was what she always said as a form of mockery, her father had been in charge of hiring the best bodyguard for his daughter.

It was annoying have a bodyguard next to you all the time, in the past she had managed to live with that feeling of having someone next to her all the time, but Simon was different, he was more like a babysitter who didn't leave her house even on his days off, especially now that her father was not at home and travel more than usual.

Simon spent all his time with her and neither of them seemed to want to become friends, but they managed to get along well, Simon did his job and (Y/N) accepted that he was only there to do his job, even if it meant ruining her social life.

And that's why she was there now, with her frown on her face, sitting on the living room couch after Simon had forbidden her from going to that party Molly organized, it was important, or at least that's what she thought. The whole school would be there and it was her chance to have some social life. In that school, having money did not mean being popular.

"Can I go to my room?" she asked dazedly. It had been almost ten minutes since Simon had been mentioning the dangers of going out alone at night and she was starting to get tired. If she wasn't going to attend to the party, she would at least go to bed early.

"No! I won't let you try to escape again."

"I'm not going to escape, jumping out of my bedroom window is so dangerous," she responded as if it were not obvious. Of course she didn't mention the part where she had already tried it before and only ended up getting hurt.

Simon narrowed his eyes, feeling a little guilty when he noticed the look of disappointment in her eyes, but letting her out at night was against his job and he was only there to obey her father's orders.

"Okay, you can go."

She nodded and didn't wait a second to leave her place on the couch and start walking towards the stairs. She had her heels in one of her hands and the dress had chosen made her uncomfortable when walking.

When she closed the door to her room, she had mixed feelings. She didn't feel upset and she didn't feel any resentment towards Simon for ruining her plans. After all, he was just doing his job, actually, she felt a strange mix of relief, she didn't even want to go to that party in the first place.

In recent weeks she had done too many things due social pressure: wearing clothes she didn't like and try to get along with people who she didn't like, a few of many.

(Y/N) sighed in frustration and changed her clothes into something much more comfortable. It was around nine at night; she still had too much time before sleep began to overcome her, maybe she would have some dinner and watch a movie before going to sleep.

She had completely forgotten to eat something and was planning to attend the party that way, where she would surely end up drinking alcohol and be much more drunk than she was supposed to. Clearly, she hadn't had her best ideas that day.

When she went down the stairs to the kitchen, she saw him again, Simon was taking some pills that she didn't know what they were for. She frowned in confusion because she had no idea that he was taking any kind of medication, after all, he was the one who took care of her, and, although she didn't like to admit it, she certainly felt somewhat safer with him at home.

"What's that?" she asked, walking up to him.

Simon forced himself to swallow the pill in the middle of his throat and looked at her. He liked to see her in certainly normal clothes; he felt like it was like saw a real part of her. (Y/N) had never treated him badly, but she didn't talk to him much. After all, he was there to take care of her, not be her best friend.

"It helps me sleep," he answered honestly.

"Do you have trouble sleeping?" she asked again, she had no idea about it and suddenly became curious about him.

"Try being a soldier most of your life and tell me if you can sleep." He tried to joke, something that seemed to work, as a small smile formed on the girl's lips, which quickly disappeared.

"I'm sorry…"

"Why?" Simon looked at her for a few seconds and turned to put the glass he had used next to the rest of the dishes.

"For you went through." She shrugged, she knew how stupid that sounded, but she couldn't help but feel guilty, empathy probably.

Simon giggled and for a second she felt like a fool. It wasn't the first time she'd tried to start a conversation with him, but she just didn't know how to approach Simon.

"Now are you interested in me?" He turned to look at her again, the situation seemed to have changed and he found it amusing.

"I have never treated you badly."

It was true, maybe they weren't the best of friends, but she had never given him any reason to hate her or at least see her as a girl he couldn't tolerate. In fact, he had tried to get along with her many times, but (Y/N) seemed to be too closed girl.

Simon wondered if she at least had a friend to talk to when she needed it, it was something he would have liked at his age.

"So, why do you insist on leaving the house at night?" he asked. Simon leaned over the bar to look at her carefully, it was something she hated.

Simon didn't seem to mind the eye contact, while for her it was the opposite, she hated eye contact and it made her feel nervous, but no matter how she looked away, she could feel his eyes on her.

"I'm just trying to fit in." She answered honestly, for the first time since Simon had become her bodyguard.

"And that justifies you getting into trouble?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. It was true, anyone else in her place would simply accept not getting permission to go out and return to her room, but not her, she had done the impossible for fear of being judged and her new friends not accepting her in their small group.

"What am I supposed to do? I don't want to spend the rest of the years without friends."

"Listen, those people will never be your friends if they don't accept you as you are." Simon sighed. He was beginning to feel like a true counselor and he was partly grateful that she wasn't refusing to listen to him.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

He thought about it for a few seconds. During his adolescence he had not been a really sociable person, he was not the right person to give tips about how to make friends.

"I will be your friend." He joked, but there was something in his tone of voice that told her it wasn't entirely a lie. "Think about it, we spend most of our time together."

She giggled and for a second it seemed like a good idea. It was the first time they had talked that way and it was actually starting to feel fun not to be fighting every second.

"I'll think about it the next time someone invites me to a party." She smiled and looked down.

The idea of sharing time with him crossed her mind and it actually didn't seem like a bad idea. Now there was only one problem: how could she ask him to spend time with her if they had never really spent time together outside of his work orders?

Not to mention that her father would go crazy when he found out that Simon had become her friend. The only reason why her father went on trips with complete peace of mind was knowing that nothing could ever happen between them, not even a friendship.

Was a simple friendship that bad?

"Okay, I'll go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow" Simon said, smiling slightly in an attempt not to break that calm atmosphere between them.

Her mind began to work too hard, her heart pounded and she thought of any way to stop him from going to his room. She didn't want to be alone, she wasn't sleepy yet and she had actually liked having a normal conversation with the man who had been living with her for several months and was in charge of her safety.

"Wait!" And although she couldn't see it, Simon smiled. He stopped and waited a few seconds until his smile faded, before finally turning around and looking at her again. "I'm not sleepy yet, do you want to watch a movie?"

It was a stupid idea. The words had come out of her mouth without thinking, Simon had taken those pills and he would surely end up falling asleep at any moment.

Simon smiled slightly. Something stirred inside him, for the first time, he looked at her like a vulnerable person and suddenly he felt a strange need to take care of her, not as an obligation because his work, he really felt the need to protect her.

"Sure, let's go."

She nodded and something calmed in her chest. She took several steps until she was next to him to walk with him to the main room.

Maybe it was the beginning of a true friendship.

#ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #ghost one shot #ghost x you #ghost x reader imagine #ghost x you imagine #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon riley fluff #simon riley one shot #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley cod #Simon riley x reader imagine #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

#summertime sadness #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost Riley #Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #Simon riley x reader #Simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you

[mactavishenjoyer]

Okay I need a Ghostroach au fanfic where after 09'Ghost gets shot he wakes up as 22' Ghost. (Still not a writer so sorry if it's bad)

He didn't have the pleasure of being thrown into another body while it was asleep like in the movies. He awoke into this world in the middle of a battle. Does it truly even count as another body if it's still him? That's unimportant he just has to finish this fight. It's unimportant what it's for. He just has to survive it. "L.T. what the fuck are you doing?" A familiar voice said, pulling Ghost behind a wall for cover. This man sure looked like the captain just shorter and without an eye scar. Ghost came a little bit more aware of his surroundings...well he actually became aware that Roach wasn't with them "Where's Roach?" Ghost said hoping that he imagined him getting shot. Please let that have been all in his head. "Who?" Soap responded with a look of confusion.

It had been weeks since Ghost had woken up in the world. Weeks of searching for Roach. He never joined 141 which means he has to be still out there or he died before he even got the chance. Ghost tried shaking the thoughts out his head. Roach had to still be alive, he was Roach after all. He sat across Price, his heart racing. "I couldn't find a Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson." As those words left prices's mouth Ghost felt his heart sink, maybe Roach never existed here. Would that be better? He would have never had to go through all the pain he did before but Ghost deep in his heart was selfish, he wanted to hold Roach. "But I did find a Gary Sanderson" price slid over the files in his hand "According to our records he was dishonorably discharged from the military. So are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"Unimportant to any mission, sir."

"that wasn't what I asked."

"He's someone important to Simon Riley. I need to make sure he's safe."

Everything felt like a blur after that. All Ghost could focus on was the fact Gary was alive. Price gave Ghost his address and within the same week Ghost was standing outside his door. His heart was racing as he waited for someone to answer the door. After seconds that felt like minutes someone did. Gary had all the same scars....every single one his had. "Oh, I wasn't expecting a visit from the grim reaper! May I help you?" Gary's laugh even sounded the same. "Gary I-" ghost thoughts were cut off by the sight of a little girl hugging Gary's leg, She had Gary's eyes,"You have a daughter?". Gary turned to his little girl, telling her to go play upstairs. She ran off and Gary turned back to Ghost

"You are standing like a military douche. What the fuck do you want?"

"to talk."

"oh, really? Someone that comes to talk comes with a gun? You know you assholes won't fucking leave me alone. I haven't said shit about what happened so go tell general s-" Gary's rant was cut off by Ghost kissing him. Ghost slammed the door shut as his mask fell to the floor. "Simon?" Gary said, stomach turning as if seeing a ghost"I thought you where fucking dead.".

They sat in Gary's living room, drinking tea. "Why didn't you fucking tell me you where alive?" Gary looked as if he was fighting back tears "I got told in a fucking hallway at 20 that the love of my fucking life was murdered with his family.". "I'm sorry " was all ghost could muster to say, knowing that the truth was unbelievable. But wasn't that what Gary was upset at? That Ghost never told the truth? "It's been 10 fucking years, Simon. A sorry isn't going to fucking cut it.". Ghost felt as if he was choking "who did you have a kid with?" Ghost said trying to ignore that he can't truly apologize for what he did to this Gary because it wasn't him that did it. "...just like you... never liked the attention being on you, huh?" Gary's voice was softer now "After I thought you died, I threw myself at anyone who would have me to try to distract myself. I thought it was easier....until I got a Superior's wife pregnant. I didn't know she was married. I got dishonorably discharged. Beaten almost to death and then paid to keep quiet about it. Riley thinks her mom is dead. You know .... since lying about people being dead always makes things easier." Ghost would roll his eyes at that last sentence if it wasn't for the realization that Gary named his daughter Riley. "Her name's Riley?" Ghost felt emotions he didn't think he was capable of feeling anymore.

"Yes, named after my dead boyfriend who's sitting in my living room....why are you here?"

"because I love you."

Or something like that. This is long enough and I'm not a writer so idk how to end it. Especially since the angst In me wants to trick y'all into thinking everything is going to be happy just to kill roach.

Part 2 of the idea

#call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #ghost mw2 #ghostroach #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x roach #call of duty roach #cod roach #roach #roach/ghost #roach x ghost #ghost/roach #roachghost #john price cod #cod john price #john price call of duty #cod fanfic #fanfic ideas

[skelnexswriting]

Flowers

➪ | Pairing: | Ghost x reader

➪ | Warnings: | Fluff, 3rd person POV, “Y/n” used, shorter story, fluff ghost :]

➪ | Summary: | Words weren’t Simon riley’s thing. But maybe sending flowers was.

➪ | A/n: | I got sick and wasn’t feeling well so i wasn’t able to post :[ But now im better so hope you enjoy this short little story! (There might be a pt. 2 idk)

Part two

—

Flowers..They were many types, many with different meanings,

Everyone has dreamt of getting flowers from that certain someone. Even soldiers like Y/n.

She may have not wished it constantly but she always hoped that one day, the person she loved would get her a beautiful bouquet. One with a deep meaning behind it.

When Y/n enlisted, she had little hope that she’d find someone since she’d be across the world most of the time..

But that changed when she was recruited as task force 141’s medic.

She didn’t mean to fall for the mysterious solider who wore the skull mask. It just happened. Although, Simon riley wasn’t a man of many words.

He was known for many things, but word? no. The few words he said came off as monotone or harsh. Many times he meant it that way, but not all the time.

When y/n first joined she thought ghost just simply disliked her, but later she learned the solider wasn’t good with his words.

Ghost actually liked the medic..he just didn’t know how to express it.

He remembered her once talking about how she loved flowers. Not just because of their beauty but their meanings.

Ghost found himself looking up what the different type of flowers meant, trying to find the perfect ones. Making sure to note which ones he liked.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to woo the medic with words but he could try flowers.

First he got hydrangeas for gratitude. He put them on y/n’s desk to find with a simple note saying “thank you”

He didn’t sign or anything so that she wouldn’t know it was him. He watched as you smiled at the flowers and placed them in some water.

…

Next he got Y/n violet, representing his loyalty to her. Again he placed them on her desk, leaving a simple note with bouquet.

Y/n took care of the flowers, the hydrangea lasted quite a while. Y/n’s heart fluttered at the thought of someone leaving them. She’d just have to hope it was the person she longed for.

…

Sunflowers were next. Representing adoration. This time Ghost decided to leave them at Y/n’s door. Like the last two times, a simple unsigned note accompanied the flowers.

Y/n kept the notes, simply tucking them away in her drawer. She tried to piece them together seeing if it sounded like anyone she knew.

But she still had yet to figure out the mystery “florist”.

…

Then it was Zinnia. He’d read it meant respect, honor. Ghost had a lot of respect for y/n. She’d patch up the task force in the middle of a battle field without hesitation.

The flowers were again placed at her door, with a note.

…

This little “game” had been going on for quite a while. Ghost was surprised to see y/n hadn’t caught on to it being him.

He thought the lack of words would give it away. He wanted to confess with this next flower. But he didn’t want a simple rose..no that was too simple.

He needed one that was unique but still represented the deep feelings he had for y/n.

Asters.

They were perfect. Aster represented undying love. That exactly what Ghost felt after a year of having y/n by his side.

One thing would be different though. He’d sign the note he left, then y/n would finally know.

…

Ghost placed the flowers on Y/n’s night stand. The notes read, “These flowers can only express a portion of the love I have for you. - Simon Riley.

It was only a matter of time before you saw the note. Ghost couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. He’d never done something like this.

He decided to hide in his room, as if that would stop the outcome.

…

Y/n had finally finished writing her reports, so she went back to her room for some rest. She couldn’t help but feel a but sad when she didn’t see the usual flowers waiting at her door.

But to her surprise, they were waiting on her nightstand, with another note.

Her eyes moved along with words but stopped at the signed name.

“- Simon Riley.”

#cod mw2 #modern warfare #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 ghost #mw ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2ghost #call of duty mw2 #mw2 fanfic

[pricesbeltbuckle]

Hello!!! I'm a recent follower and just wanted to say I absolutely **adore** the stuff you write and I've binged your entire blog 🥹💕 If you're up for it, could you write something with Ghost where he meets a woman who's *just like him* personality-wise (wary of strangers and untrusting)? (headcanons encouraged!) Thank you so much for all you've written so far, please keep going and have a great day! ☺️💕

Twin - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence?,Guns?,Fluff

Ghost has always been wary of strangers, he doesn’t trust anyone…But you. When he first met you he could tell, you were just like him.

So a couple years later you guys move in with each other, more so you move into his house so you can look after it while he’s deployed but when he comes home he takes you out to dinner.

He noticed what you noticed, a lady at the bar staring you down like she was telling someone something on the phone about you.

“I don’t trust-” “I know. Just ignore er’ probably talking trash. Look at those split ends.” You nearly spit out your drink as you let out a laugh you leaned over and then you heard it. A gunshot that JUST missed you.

Ghost quickly picked you up and ran to the back of the restaurant. What the fuck happened on that mission?

“I knew something was off!” “How are you not fucking terrified you nearly got shot!?!” “Dad used to be a cop, been to the shooting range a couple of times-Not the point! How the fuck do we get out of here?” Ghost rolled his eyes

“Right..There’s that window right there? If we crawl out we should be fine. Will probably take us around the back.” You nodded, “You should probably go first and also tell Price about this later…” He went out the window and reached for your hand and pulled you out and carried you down the block.

“I will tell Price, can you call an uber?” “Yeah thank god we didn’t take a car I would’ve been so pissed.” Ghost scoffed. “You’re like a mini me.” “Shut up, no I'm not..” You finished up with the uber and Ghost passed the phone and it was Price.

“Jesus, are you okay? Ghost told us what happened-” “Blonde hair…Split ends like 5’4? Brown eyes. Does that help?” “Oh-Actually yeah thank you..” You talked for 5 minutes then handed the phone back. Thank god the uber showed up, you get bored quickly.

Ghost and you like the same shows,foods,And you practically have the same emotions. It was like you were just the female copy of him. It was terrifying how accurate your emotions were.

“Si! Can you get me-” “Chips? Got it.” “Thank you!” You didn’t know how he knew but he did and you loved that. 

You guys did buy a german shepard, his name is Rocky and at first Ghost didn’t want him but he trained the dog to attack on command so now he likes him.

You both love coffee. BLACK coffee. It can never have anything too sweet in it or you’ll both hate it. 

Has definitely listened to all your playlists and loves them, lets you have AUX cord a lot.

One time on an undercover mission he let you drive all of them to the designated spot they needed to be able to see the target at.

“God, I hate these missions.” Soap complained and Price rolled his eyes. “And I hate you Soap, were here lower your voice!” “Okay mini Ghost.”

You glared back at him from the front seat and Ghost turned around and tried to tell him in a hand motion to shut up!!

“We can end this early and I will come back there and kill you myself.” “I-You know what my bad I’m sorry Mrs.Riley.” You turned your attention to the window and watched for the target. You liked the ring of “Mrs.Riley”

“You know what Si-” “Yes, we will look at ring’s later.” “Okay good, at that one store-” “Yes the one at the mall you like.” Soaps jaw dropped.

“You aren’t married?” “We are by paper and have been for 2 years, we just have to do an event and get rings.” Ghost spoke up and you smiled a little. You loved this life no matter how crazy it really was.

YAYYY I LOVED THIS!! MAKING AN AU FRFR!!!!!! 😻

#call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #captain price #john soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #price #mw3 #soap #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #cod mw3 #modern warfare 2 #cod fluff #cod fanfic #cod fandom #soap cod #simon riley x you

[ponyosmom35]

you and I

simon ghost riley x reader

Liability chapter twenty two

synopsis: after the betrayal, simon is scrambling to make things right. trying to push reader away for her own safety, but she's too stubborn to agree.

read the previous part first!

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She paced back and forth, waiting for him to return. Her mind was in shambles. Never had she actually expected someone as wonderful as him to want her. She was in awe of their kiss. Unlike anything she’d ever felt before. The passion, the longing. She’d do anything to kiss him again, to never let him go. She wanted to show him how much she fucking loved him. She sits on her cot, braiding her freshly washed hair mindlessly to pass the time. Her body ached, begging for sleep, but her mind refused to let her close her eyes. She knew that Simon had responsibilities, but right now he was the only one who could comfort her. She needed him to tell her it was gonna be okay. 

It wasn’t for nearly another hour when Simon finally walked into the room. She instantly stands and moves over to him, wrapping her arms around his middle, burying her face in his best. He holds her and rubs her back. He takes his mask off and throws it to the side. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah” she nods

“So whats the word? What do we do now?”

“You’re going home” 

“You’re coming with me right?” 

“No”

“Hassan?” she asks 

“we've gotten intel on Hassan, we learned he's planning to take things nuclear. got a set up in Chicago, we're flying out in the morning” 

“Okay” she nods 

He looks down, refusing to meet her gaze “I've debriefed with Laswell and we're transporting you back to base in the UK immediately. From there you’ll take the first flight back to the states where you’ll be personally escorted home. Pack up we've got 20 minutes till your transportation arrives”

“And what about you?” she asks 

“I'll be joining the rest of the team for Chicago in the morning. just need to tie up a few... loose ends here”

“When will you be back?”

“it's up in the air at the moment, we'll try and get him fast but we can't be sure. could be a day, could be a week... or longer” 

“I should come with you then -”

Simon’s jaw tenses as he steps closer to her “its not safe for you, I’m trying to keep you out of harms way”

“I don’t wanna leave you, what if you get hurt -”

“This is for the best” he says coldly, she stares up at him and takes a step back, recognizing the cold tone. “This isn’t going to work out… between us”

“Why?” she asks as her heart stops, tears instantly fill her eyes “why would you say that to me?”

“I just... can't put you in danger like this anymore. I need to put the team first, we just got too invested and its a mess now. I'm sorry. I need to break things off before it gets too deep”

“If you’re saying this because of what happened, it was nothing! I’m fine! Don’t push me away again” she asks 

“I knew this would happen and I was too fucking stubborn to stop it! I tried so hard to keep you away, I destroyed us both for nothing. this is my life the people who get close to me die! I never should've let you in” he shakes his head, turning his back as he runs his hands through his messy hair. This was hurting him just as much as her, but he knew it was better this way. 

“Simon don't say that, I'm here, we're here! I'm gonna go back to base and you're gonna deal with Hassan and I'll still be here when you come back!”

“not this time love... this is it. I'm not letting you risk your safety again after what happened back there. this time. you're better off without me.”

“no I'm not! every second we're apart I feel like I can't breathe! I understand why you think we're a bad idea, but it's not a crime to let yourself be happy! what happened here with Graves was not your fault, you saved my life, you brought me home! you're a fucking hero Simon!” she pauses and take his hands 

“don't push me away again, you’re the only thing that makes sense to me” she admits 

“You have no idea how hard this is. You're everything I've ever wanted. How can I possibly face you again after this? how can I let you near me? the darkness in me will take us both”

“I won’t let that happen”

“you've seen my face! you know my name! now that we're associated you'll be used against me!”

“if that's the price I have to pay for you then so be it! I don't care!”

“But I do! I can’t fucking let you get hurt again don’t you understand?”

“If association is what you're worried about then I quit, I won't work on base anymore! Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it!”

“I don't know! I don't know anymore! everything's such a god damn mess and I'm sick of losing the people I love, okay?!” tears well up in his eyes as he finally breaks. 

“I know, but you’re not gonna lose me Si” she says gently as she walks over to him on the bed and pulls him into her. He leans his head on her chest as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. He holds her tightly as she runs a hand through his hair. 

“I'm sorry, I just can't let you go through this any-”

“I don't care! I want it all, give me the pain if you're my reward”

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?”

“Not in my nature”

He kisses the top of her head and caresses her cheek with one hand. his lips are soft and teasing as he pulls her in closer for a deep and intense kiss. he holds her tightly, not breaking the kiss until they’re both short of breath. 

“You win” he says “anything you want, I’ll do it love” 

“All I want is you”

Tag list:@vivi123abc

#simon riley #smut #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #angst #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost angst #simon riley angst #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost smut #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost fluff #simon riley x you #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #141 #task force 141

[ghcstao3]

You’re the only fic writer that I go to on tumblr because your characterisation of ghost and soap is just too good and not out of character. I don’t read fics on tumblr at all as some of them usually makes the character too OOC and it completely ruins the mood for me to read but not your works. Thank you so much :)

I was wondering if you can maybe write Ghost and Tommy? There’s just not enough works about them! If that’s okay with you! It can be anything you’d like, even ghostsoap

Another question, I just want to know if there’s any more characters that you might write in the future other then the characters for MW, such as COD ghosts?

thank you, that really means so much <3 I know sometimes with the more fun posts it’s going to be a bit ooc, so I always worry about characterization when I post actual writing :’) so that really makes me happy to hear

unfortunately I don’t think I’d write any CoD characters outside of MW (at least for the time being) only because I’m not familiar enough with other series that I’d feel confident enough to their write characters. but that’s not to say it won’t ever happen! just not for the foreseeable future :)

and i can absolutely write ghost and tommy!! I agree that there is a severe lack of works So here is some best man ghost :)

-

“I can’t do this, Simon.”

For approximately the twelfth time in an hour, Tommy has decided that he can’t do this. And for just as many times, Simon is telling him, you can do this.

This, of course, meaning his wedding.

Now, it isn’t like Simon doesn’t understand Tommy’s fears about everything, about going through with it—but that certainly doesn’t mean he intends on giving into his brother’s insistence and letting him ruin this wonderful thing he has. Tommy has worked far too hard to let his self-doubt spoil his efforts’ worth.

“Beth isn’t—she doesn’t deserve me! Why should she get married to someone like me?”

Simon has to resist from rolling his eyes. He feels as if they’ve been running circles around this conversation all morning.

He shakes his head instead as he moves to interrupt Tommy’s incessant pacing. He eases his brother’s fingers from the poor scrunched fabric of his tie that he’d been fidgeting with.

“No one gets to decide what Beth deserves except her,” Simon tells him sagely. “She wouldn’t have agreed to this if she didn’t want to marry you, Tommy.”

Tommy’s gaze falls to the floor, jaw working in that anxious manner he’s never been quite able to kick. “I know, but—I don’t know if—“

“Tom.”

Simon straightens the collar of his brother’s dress shirt. Tommy’s eyes flick sharply up to his, wide and scared and strangely young. Simon sighs and smooths the sleeves of his jacket before stepping back to assess.

“Beth has seen you through thick and thin,” Simon says quietly, mustering up that calm, smooth tone he always used when they’d been working Tommy through rehab. “If she didn’t want to stay, she’d have made that clear by now. You know her. You love her, and you are going to marry her.”

Tommy shuffles his feet, swallowing harshly as he nervously wipes his palms on his trousers. “What if—“

Simon levels Tommy a glare that has him clamping his mouth shut.

Earnest, Simon continues, “You are going to go out there, Thomas Riley, and you are going to make her the happiest woman alive. Understand that?”

Slowly, Tommy nods.

“Good,” Simon says. A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Because if you don’t, I’m sure Beth will wring your neck before I even get a chance.”

Tommy lets out a weak laugh, nodding more assertively this time. “She would, yeah,” he concurs, a glint of fondness in his eyes. “Alright. Alright. I’m doing this. For Beth.”

Simon snorts and flicks Tommy’s forehead. “For yourself, too, dickhead. Now, c’mon—can’t be a very good groom from out here, can you?”

Finally, finally Simon is able to lead Tommy out to the altar for the last minute preparations before the ceremony was to begin.

And what a beautiful ceremony it is.

Simon couldn’t have been more glad to have talked Tommy out of his spiralling. He’s not sure Tommy would’ve been able to live with the regret it would have left him with, and Simon isn’t so sure he could live with seeing that, either.

He’s glad, that for once, a happy memory was able to be made for the Riley family.

#ask #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #tommy riley #call of duty #modern warfare #writing

[shroomiewrites]

If your love burns, dear, set me ablaze || Simon Riley x Reader

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader || 2.5k words || SFW ||

Warnings/tags: Gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of animal gore, non-canon backstory, fluff, sprinkle of angst.

Song recommendation: Indigo Night | Tamino

Synopsis: “They asked "do you love her to death?” I said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me to life.” | Mahmoud Darwish

It took Simon Riley 17 days to touch you. 

Not touch in an intimate, sexual way. Touch as in a graze, a brush of the fingertips. Touch as in an even accidental bump or gentle meet of shoulder blades when you sit too close to someone in the train. Touch as in the way his knuckles feathered your hand when he handed you your drink on a night out with friends a few weeks and meetings of your friendly circle after you first met.

It had been surprising to you how a man like him even had any friends in the first place and even more that said friends also happened to be friends of yours, but Manchester could be small and funny like that, you thought. He made a strong first impression on you, never introduced himself, in fact, he almost never talked, not loud enough at least. Not in the way that people who want to be heard spoke, it was always a rather fatigued mutter, voice brittled and seemingly unbothered and unamused by everything around him. His eyes always felt sharp and alert but also… never there. He existed in a plane of his own, haunting conversations and people he didn’t seem to enjoy, like a ghost.

Ghost.

That’s what they called him, he told you one of the first few times you tried some small talk, embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you laughed before realizing that. Oh God. He's not joking. He didn’t seem affected by it, but then again, he never seemed affected by anything at all. Not the way your friends always talked a bit too much, laughed a little too loud, got a tad too drunk and touched him way too much. He never complained tho, no one could even tell he was bothered by it unless they noticed the slight twitch of his eyes in annoyance as they slapped his shoulder, howling at something he didn’t find remotely funny. You found yourself amused by watching him, like experiencing first hand a cat in the middle of a bunch of golden retrievers. He seemed to notice the way you stared at him for a little too long for it to be just a coincidence. But he never said anything, amused by it too.

Simon, he said his name was one time. You realized how no one ever spoke his name. You thought maybe it pissed him off, but no, not many things pissed him off. He was a surprisingly easy person to be around, not easily ticked off by the stupid jokes or the chaotic antics of your fellow companions. He was a bit skittish and straightforward when he did speak, an acid tint to his sarcastic jokes and monotone timbre. It was actually charming. To your own twisted mind at least. He was also a great listener, another charm of his you noted. He heard you talk for minutes to hours on end, without ever making you feel like you were rambling too much or boring him to death, eyes focused on yours throughout the entirety of whatever gossip or story you felt like he should hear. He secretly enjoyed it a bit too much. Looking forward to your next encounters so he could hear a follow up of something stupid that was happening to someone’s cousin, just to hear your dramatic pauses and mocking interpretations of someone’s voice. He made sure to keep tabs on the names and events, because you always started with a ‘Do you remember-” and he relished the little gleam in your eyes when he repeated back what you told him when you last saw each other with astounding accuracy. 

On the good days, he’d gift you a story of his own. A little tale of his time in the military, sometimes about an operation or mission that he got assigned. Never too many details, just the gist and a little highlight, and you didn’t pry, feeling grateful enough that he felt comfortable to share anything at all. That, and the mysterious aura of his person actually suited the if-I-told-you-I’d-have-to-kill-you way he shared his own experiences with you. You collected them like pieces of the puzzle that made up Simon Riley, celebrating mentally when two distinct strands of information he gave you allowed you to pierce together a slightly fuller picture of who he was, what he liked and what he didn’t. 

He started going back to Manchester often after you two met. He didn’t have much else to go, frankly. His job was his life and when he wasn’t deployed, he felt quite lost in his own head, like it was unknown terrain that he didn’t have coordinates for or a clear strategy. His social life was an even bigger mess, a battlefield is easier to navigate than everyday life. When he was on duty people were blue or red, with him or against. But things got confusing once he didn’t wear a vest anymore and suddenly they were yellow, green, purple… The easy way out? Never strive for more than company. It’s what his body needed, the bare minimum of human connection required for the average person to somewhat function. At least that’s what he told himself. 

His friends – your friends – were people he could tolerate being around and that on rare occasions got a chuckle out of him. But they didn’t mind the mask or that he pretty much only spoke when spoken to. People tend to be a lot easier on those who underperform to their standards, not trying to steal away their spotlight. So he made a social life out of it, walking the noisy streets of his city and drinking bourbon in whatever bar the people he hung out with dragged him into. 

Until you.

You see, when Simon was a kid he found a cat once. Bone thin and wounded. It took a liking to him, to his bruised little hands and puppy eyes that watched the things around him curious and woefully. He found a semblance of comfort in petting the cat, letting it sit on his lap as it purred gently, basking in his warmth. He fed it for a while, gave it food and water as much as he could, given his own difficult circumstances. He watched it regain its strength ever-so-slightly, but even then, he never took it in. Never considered it a friend. Never even gave it a name. It was just a stray cat and he had time and patience, despite the world constantly giving him reasons not to have. Some time later he noticed the food and water were left untouched. Insects crawled on the makeshift bowl he had made out of discarded paper plates and empty tins. He didn’t go after it. Wasn’t his, never was. A few days later he found it on the street near the curb, mashed into the concrete, thick marks of wheels on top of it’s small body, crushed it to death, probably. A weird pang in his chest made him stumble back, the foul smell of rotting flesh filling his nostrils and no matter how long he washed his face after it never left his nose completely, constantly mocking him with the inevitable fate of every living being in existence had to face – the putrid reality of death. The sight before him that day ingrained itself into his young brain, creating roots around his mind and making sure he never forgot it. He couldn’t understand why it hurt that much, why things had to be that way and if he could have done things differently.

It was only years later, after a lot more experience and pain in his life that he finally understood the lesson he was taught that day. That you never start something you’re not ready to finish. He lived by that, built his career on it, his reputation. An operation with his name on it meant an operation carried out, clean, no loose ends. He guaranteed it. The mantra was easy to apply, easy to repeat, gave him comfort and helped him pick his battles right. Never bite more than he could chew, keep his feet on the ground. He repeated it everyday and it helped him improve, strive for more. Not that he was a perfectionist, no. He saw himself as more of a… highly dedicated individual. Committed to the results and the results alone.

He knew something was wrong with him when his mind wandered off to you in the middle of a briefing, or when he laid down in base, staring at the ceiling of his room. He thought about what you were probably doing, if you had any more stories to tell him. He found himself anxious to tell you stories. As he snipped down enemies and dropped down to knife others, a fleeting thought of “I have to tell her about this” made him stop dead in his tracks and physically shake off the alarm sirens that rang in his mind. Everything about you made his brain scream danger. Made him want to run away and close off. And yet, he found himself going back to Manchester, to you. Every. Single. Time.

When his gaze darted down to your reddish lips as you laughed at something he said, while he walked you home after a night out with your friends, and his hands softly brushed a strand of your hair out of your face, breath hitching as you melted into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his palm as you looked at him, fuck, so yearningly he nearly passed out, when you raised your small hands to his cheeks, a surgical black mask covering the bottom half of his face, and you batted your eyelashes at him in permission and he didn’t stop you as you pulled it to his nose and brought his lips to him in a kiss so tender and careful he felt sinless for a moment, that’s when he knew he was beyond the point of no return. 

You attached yourself to his life so seamlessly, so readily, he nearly missed it. He felt like you had always been there. In the early mornings when he woke up from nightmares or plagued by insomnia and he just watched you sleep soundly next to him, not a single wrinkle on your heavenly face as your dreams probably never ended up with you dead. In the afternoon when you danced around the house in only one of his t-shirts, practically a dress to you, and sang loudly, a big smile on your face when you noticed him watching you lovingly from the doorframe, pulling him to your living room as you urged him to join you, laughing at how he pretended to be annoyed at your antics, but he could barely hide the grin that filled his expression whenever you giggled around him, the sound being enough to wash away any worry out of his system and put him at ease. Simon felt his heart burst in euphoria whenever you as much as glanced at him, each touch lighting a fire in him that made him believe in a God just so he could pray for more of you. 

When Simon told you about the cat you cried. Sobbed into his shoulder until you felt dizzy. Not because of the cat itself, although that got into your feelings, but because he’d made a lesson out of it. Punished himself so deeply about something out of his control, had convinced himself so hard that it was his fault, couldn’t stand the guilt that ate him away from losing something that was precious to him when he was far too young to understand what it meant. It physically made your heart ache. The way he shaped his life around it, building walls upon walls until nothing could get in and he couldn’t get out, because it’s easy to avoid the fear of loss when you make it so you don’t have anything to lose. But he failed to realize that it also meant nothing to live for. How he made his life’s purpose to never fail again, beating himself up everytime it inevitably happened. 

His motto hadn't come from a place of efficiency, of a duty well carried. It came from hurt. From the desperation of having so much love to give and nothing to put it into. But he didn’t realize it. Not until you showed him. Not until he saw how you wore your heart on your sleeve, how you poured yourself into every single thing that you did. How everytime you kissed him you had starstruck eyes and a light scarlet tint to your cheeks. How when you made toast you took the time to rotate the pieces of bread slightly in the toaster so the grill marks would make a checkered pattern, simply because it brought you joy. How you always chose to buy the mugs that were chipped or slightly broken, because you said you’d be upset if no one wanted you just because you were slightly imperfect.

God, how far off were you.

To Simon you were perfect. From the tip of your toes to the last strand of hair on your head, to the brightest of your smiles and ugliest of cries when you had to bid him goodbye for another few months. He thought of you every single day, every second possible. He knew that if he lost you, it’d crush him. Irreparably so. Would tear him into pieces until he was just a shell of a man. And yet, he stayed. Dug his grave deeper with every kiss, every hug, every intimate moment you shared together as he felt you clench around him and could swear that he was in paradise. Because it was worth it. He learned that his previous mantra was slightly off, and fixed it into a new one. 

You don’t start things you wouldn’t risk yourself for. 

So he went out and did his job, because protecting people, his teammates, was worth the risk. And he went back to you, tired and sore, but he let you jump on him and squeeze him tightly, let you remove his mask with your delicate fingers, a sigh of relief escaping your lips every time before you got on your tippy toes to press your mouth into his. And he reveled in it. He let you see his face, his body, his soul. He let you see everything of him, the good and the bad. Ask whatever you want to know, take everything from him. He’d rip his heart right out his chest if you begged him once. Because he loved you. Painstakingly, deeply, with enough force to move mountains and start wars, and enough care to sweep the debris and tend to the wounded. Because, by God, loving you was worth the risk. 

For your anniversary you got him a cat. It was the first time you saw him weep. Truly weep. Tears staining his face as his bloodshot eyes rained down on to the carpet, broken whimpers falling from his trembling lips as he sunk to the ground in front of the brightly colored open box. You thought he didn’t want it, that maybe it was too much, too soon. But he assured you it was okay. That it was worth the risk. 

He named her after you.

A/N: This story has been stuck in my head for a few days now, as I often find myself lost in my thoughts, imagining how a man like Simon might love. Frankly, I like to think it'd be like this. Too deeply for his own good, but, personally, I think that's the best way.

Constructive criticism and feedback are always more than welcome! I hope you enjoyed reading~

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fluff #angst

[undercoverpena]

may i ask what made ghost fall in love with helen and vice versa? even better if they have had history together.. they're just so intriguing, feel like real adults

it’s easier to do this ask as more of a story—but not in the usual sense. just because I always feel these go on when I try to explain my thought process.

simon ghost riley x reader!helen

an: it’s 5:45am, forgive typos. I’m sick and I can’t sleep. it’s more fluff from ghost which means there’s like a rough edge to the fluff.

++

he fell in love with her without realising he had done.

ghost was aware he felt something because of the hole she left in his life when he pushed her away the first time, all those years ago.

back when he was younger, and she had seen less. their fight still loops occasionally around his head. fractured images of her face as each word landed and cut her. then, she transferred to escape him.

he realised then he felt something more for her than he led originally thought, but he couldn’t find her to tell her. his bitter words and her silence being the last thing the two of them had shared. so, he buried it, similar to how he tried to forget her.

for as good as he was tactically, he wasn’t good at shutting the helen in his mind away. evidenced by the fact when price asked if he knew someone who would fit the role of medic for the task force—her name came to his tongue before his mind even thought it. 

he’d later learn she had been on price’s radar for a while. the captain having realised something may have happened, and him feeling he should ask in his own way. the prick.

“you might’ve convinced the others, simon, but I know there’s a man under that mask. and while ghosts don’t get hurt, men do.”

and then, like that, she was back. distant. but back.

at first he tried to be her friend. battled with himself to do so. because it would be easier, for both of them.

but he failed. one of the very few missions he did fail—and the only one he’ll be forever glad he did. because fuckin’ hell, helen is something else. the way she looks at him, the way she touches him, the way her tight little cunt fits him so perfectly. more so, the way he doesn’t hate her falling asleep on his chest—actually rather fucking liking it.

because it means he got her back, in the odd way he had her before. the way he never appreciated then, but would do now. no labels. no real confirmation. just him having her, her having him.

this time, though, when possible, he want to be around her—aware at any moment it could be ripped from them both. he likes the feeling of her fingers on his forearms, on his neck. likes the fact she doesn’t bow to him, will stand all straight-spined and tell him to go fuck himself.

he doesn’t realise how deep he is until he almost breaks a recruits fingers when he overhears him mumble about the ‘nice doc’s arse’. and the only reason he didn’t fully snap them was because he knew the recruit would have to go to her—and he wasn’t about to let that happen. wasn’t about to give her ammo against him, because the evidence of his feelings would have been imprinted into the man’s bones.

all of it had snuck up on him. all his feelings concocting and mixing—brewing something beautiful and disastrous—because bad things happened to those he loved, to those he cared for. his head telling him to run all over again, to push her away. but this time, his heart protested, it burned a hole in his chest that kept him awake. because no, he’s not doing this again. he’s not fucking it up.

even if he’s gotten too close.

he’s plagued with horrid thoughts, failing to fight them off. thoughts such as him being a reason she’ll get taken—that he could even have her killed just for being around him. she’ll get hurt—if not by others because of him, but by him. there’s even a high chance those pretty fucking eyes would slowly, over time, hate him, because good things didn’t happen to him.

they wilted until all of the joy and light was stolen from them. the proof being the nightmares he was still plagued with, the memories, the image of his family burned into his mind.

he couldn’t sleep, and gave up trying, choosing to wander aimlessly. unsure where he was going, just letting his feet take him. he’s unsure how long he does walk, but he only stops when until he reaches the mess and realises she’s here too, alone, not sleeping.

even without meaning to, he finds himself in front of her. the two of them like magnets. and it’s the way she looks up, her eyes softening slowly, lip curling into a hybrid smile and smirk—he’s realised she only does for him.

there’s bags under her eyes as he moves closer, watching her fingers brush stray hair behind her ear as she lowers the cutlery. it’s then that he realises he’s in love with her.

not because she’s radiant and beautiful—even on little sleep after having a bad day. not because she admittedly does have a nice arse, and her body fits against his perfectly.

but because his thoughts stop. she stops the worry, the dread. she silences it. she doesn’t heal him, or even try to—something she’s always clear on with him, she likes all of him, flaws, demons and past included. but, while she doesn’t heal him, she does gently give him a break from his demons, the same way she always gently (literally) stitches him back up.

“hey… you good?”

her hand pushing the plate towards him as he sits opposite her, allowing his shoulders to sink from his ears.

“am now, helen.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley #cod ghost x reader #ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost riley #ghost cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod mw22 #cod ghost x you #simon x helen #ghost x helen

[alektohuj]

GhostRoachSoap Headcannons ! Again

This time without a meltdown :D But there are my thoughts while writing!

Soap family and before army.

Soap has a quite big family and is the disappointment child. He has three siblings and is the third one. (I'm thinking an older sister and brother and a younger brother). Both of his older siblings are married with children. Sister has two kids and brother one.

Soap's parents are both homophobic so they don't like the fact he is gay and enrolled in army.

He got diagnosed with adhd when he was older but still managed to not struggle with grades at school.

Soap's gay awakening happened when he was around 13 years old when he and his friends were playing 'spin the bottle' (kiss whoever it landed on), he spined it at his best friend and liked the kiss a little to much then he was supposed to. ( Ended up in a secret relationship with the friend)

Was on football team, ended up a capitan. Also he probably broke his arm at least once.

His favourite subject in school was chemistry. He might have blown up a lab and get banned from entering without supervision (inspired by a fic on Ao3, 'Academic Achievement')

Back to his family. His favourite sibling was the younger brother (also gay and a family disappointment). They all bullied eachother but would kill someone if they messed with them (Soap actually ended up in almost killing a guy who sexualy harassed his sister, didn't get charges pressed against him because the police witnessed it and actually helped, the officer was a woman)

Roach

He was the only sibling.

And we need to give him trauma too because why not. So his dad died before his birth and because of that his mom became an alcoholic. She neglected him and sometimes beated him. (Smashed a bottle on his face with the words ' I don't want to see your stupid face ever again' and that's how he ended up with a mask)

Had a wonderful grandma tho ( loving all babushki <3). She was a baddie. Sadly died before he enrolled. Always cared about him and treated his wounds from fights with his mother and from the bullies.

Ah yes, he was bullied. Because of his mask and for having a baby face (he has a baby face can't tell me otherwise, though it's another reason why he wears the mask).

His sexual awakening was probably a super sexy actor in a kid show when he was 9. His grandma laughed when he was blushing because of it (She was accepting though)

'I have a feeling I'm writing about having a accepting babcia (grandma) because I want one' - Alek

Had a small friend group in school but during highschool most of the friends became toxic and manipulating. ('I have a feeling this is a self insert :') why am I still friends whit those people?'- Alek)

Ghost, well idk what you expect but

He had a shit childhood as we know frome the comics and everything.

He was feared at school and was the quiet kid. No one wanted to be friends with simon 'the freak' Riley in school.

Had and online friend group tho. They all either killed themselves or went offline forever.

Gay awakening was Roach because our man is stupid and couldn't tell he was attracted to the crew of "Pirates of the Caribbean" (I'm talking Johnny Depp,Keira Knightley and Orlando Bloom)

All for now I guess. I might do the background of Soap siblings if you want me to. Though the youngest brother may be a bit of self insert.

Also in my headcannons Ghost and Soap are both from the reboot.

#ghostroachsoap #ghostsoap #ghostroach #roachsoap #soapghost #roachghost #ghost x roach #roach x soap #ghost x soap #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2