#Ghost [ ooc ]

[wombywoo]

cleaned up

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #my art #you might think the most ooc choice was making Ghost wear pink.. #but it's actually putting Mr MacTavish in velvet 😔 #wool on wool violence category five swamp situation down there... #he pulls it off regardless

[1pcii]

goth family bed time :)

(click for better quality // no reposts please but reblogs are greatly appreciated // please do not tag as ship)

#god this is so embarrassingly ooc and self indulgent XP #psii.png #1pc #one piece #fanart #one piece fanart #goth fam #goth family #pastel goth family #dracule mihawk #mihawk #ghost princess perona #perona #roronoa zoro #zoro #id in alt text #i have an age/re version of this too so you can DM for that if you want...

[the-raindeer-king]

Okay, So I'm the only girl on my team at work. And I'm telling y’all, regardless of age or relationship status, guys absolutely get excited when you give them stuff. Even if they act like they don't. All I can do is imagine how this would work with the 141.

Like imagine you make Gaz a bracelet. It's nothing too crazy, just a single strand of green pony beads. It didn't even take a lot to make it. Just some small, homemade thing that you give to him while you've got some down time between tasks.

He absolutely lights up, smiling wide, eyes bright. He thanks you with a side hug and a kiss to your temple. It's more than what you were expecting, but you're not gonna complain.

You don't think much of it, and move on with your business, nearly forgetting about the bracelet… until Soap interrupts you at the gym, demanding to know why Gaz got one and not him.

You didn't think he wanted one, and you certainly didn't think he'd be so distraught over something so silly. So, you promise him a bracelet, and you deliver it to him the next day. A single strand blue bracelet.

Johnny's ecstatic, grinning like a kid on Christmas. He gives you a bear hug, and a messy kiss to your cheek, practically singing your praise as he leaves.

Price is next. But thankfully you don't give him a chance to ask. You had noticed the way his gaze lingers on the bracelets that Gaz and Soap have, the small frown he's got after talking to them.

You make him a yellow one, and drop it off on his desk with some paperwork. No need for all the fanfare or even the chance he might reject it. He doesn't. He does bring you your favorite drink, his way of saying thanks. And the yellow bracelet is on his wrist the whole time.

Ghost is last, only because you didn't think he'd want one. But ever since Price got his, Ghost has been waiting with baited breath for one. He's not going to outright ask, will even scoff if Soap or Gaz brag about it. But he wants one!

It's late, when he drops by your barrack, quiet when you open the door. It takes him a moment to gather the courage. But eventually, he holds his hand out, asking where his bracelet is.

When you admit you hadn't made him one, he's a little hurt. You're teammates. Why wouldn't he want one? But you invite him into your barrack, letting him sit with you as you make the bracelet. It's just black, his color of course, but he leaves, smiling under the mask.

Oh, and when you show up for the next briefing with your own bracelet, a repeating pattern of green, blue, yellow and black, no one comments on it. But it's hard to ignore the way they all smile at you, a soft look in their eyes.

#poly!141 #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #this is 100% inspired by me making all my coworkers bracelets and the way they all lit up when i passed them out #gaz cod #soap cod #price cod #ghost cod #maybe a little ooc but i dont give a fuck #my writing

[tojisun]

(this is def inspired by htgawm s4e7 but) simon is totally the type to propose to you in a way that is quite mundane, if not a little unexpected.

thinking about simon taking you out for lunch by the cafe close to your work; you ordered a light lunch, paired it with iced coffee, and simon scrunches his nose in mortification but backs off with a chuckle when you tell him he can’t say shit after ordering steak and paired it with a cup of tea.

and you’re within the moment of recounting your morning, waving your hands around in excitement as you tell him about completing a project given to you by your supervisor, when simon just gets hit with this realization. this feeling that pulses within his heart—“you. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

so, while you’re lost in your story, simon plucks out the discarded straw wrap you tore off for your drink, and hides his hands underneath the table. he twists the paper, makes soft tears to cut it shorter, and pinches the ends so they stick together as best as they can. it’s sloppy but it’s a circle, small enough to fit around your finger.

“so,” you begin, sipping on your coffee. “what’cha hiding under there?”

simon shoots you a cheeky smile. “oh but you’ve seen it, haven’t you, lovie?”

you groan, chucking a balled-up tissue paper his way. “y’r gross.”

“that’s not what you were crying last night,” he playfully snarks back with a quirked up brow. your cheeks burn and you duck down to hide from his knowing gaze, trying desperately to tamp down the laugh that is making your lips twitch.

simon chuckles, shaking his head softly, trying to pretend that his heart isn’t quite literally lodged in his throat right now, before coughing lightly to capture your attention again. you give it to him readily with a small and confused smile dancing on your lips, and your eyes crinkled in the way that makes him swoon.

“si?” you ask, a little worried now that he just sits on in his silence. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” simon replies, a little breathless. “more than ‘okay’, actually. i’m-” he pauses, clearing his throat, his fingers still playing with the straw wrapping.

you watch as he breathes in deeply before his posture straightens and then he is pulling his hand out from under the table. you blink your eyes down to his hand where, pinched between his fingers, is the straw wrapping twisted and pinched to look like a small ring.

“this is a placeholder for the real one, s’just that i’ve always wanted to ask you when the timing is right but every time i’m with you always seemed to be the right time so…”

simon’s eyes are unwavering—they are pools of gentle storms—but you notice the way his hand trembles, taken by tremors that would have made you worry if his words had not seized your beating heart and cradled it with such tenderness that you feel like weeping.

“will you marry me?”

#add this to the ‘‘sun writes ooc!simon’’ list but honestly. i just want him to have a love so gentle so scream at me. i WILL cry about it #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #suns

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Pre- face reveal Ghost having a picture of his old-self tapped to a board in his room for the express purpose of throwing knives at it.

Someone coming in and just being like, man you must really hate whoever that is! geez!

And Ghost saying he does really hate that guy. He hates Simon.

-

After learning to love himself a little bit more he replaces it with a photo of Graves <3

#I think this is ooc but idc it was fun to think of #simon ghost riley #mw2 #cod #cod mw2 #soapghost #cod modern warfare #ghostsoap #cod headcanons #cod mwii #ghost mwii #the person might be soap

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ proglogue

note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers

ao3

【next】

it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.

clearly, you'd been too optimistic.

which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order,  whether you were in the field or not.

the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.

the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.

before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.

and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.

but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.

you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.

"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."

"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."

"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."

"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"

"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."

"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."

their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?

as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.

“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”

"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.

"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.

price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.

soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."

you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.

you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.

"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."

you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.

"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.

before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.

✹✹✹

you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.

either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.

"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.

"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.

"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.

"right."

neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.

after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.

"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.

he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.

"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.

"alright, he can be difficult–"

"really?"

"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"

"is he gonna give me a chance?" 

"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"

"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.

"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"

"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.

it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.

you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.

there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.

living room's yours. lock the door. – s

it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.

with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes #praying that hes not ooc

[kaiserouo]

Tired Ghost

#i don't wanna spend too much time on this #(wrote an essay about how i thought vanguard hacking kit was developed) #yep that's not lorem ipsum #i just wanna see ghost complaining don't judge me too much #i didn't take history class in the ishtar collective (TM) those are all ooc don't actually read into that #if you actually know what im saying then you'd know i probably failed my computer security lesson #also the traveller probably gave them similar tech so their physical architecture should be similar #also ur a nerd lol #destiny 2 #destiny hunter #destiny ghost #destiny 2 art #my art

[roseboysstuff]

Thinking about fuckbuddy ghost (this is ftm reader btw)

Ghost who is amazing in bed, his cock dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your cunt

Ghost who doesn't really give the best aftercare, cleans you up and then waves goodbye

Ghost who totally doesn't love you, you're just a convenient lay

Ghost who loves watching you ride his cock, your hair bouncing and your eyes squeezed shut. The pleasure evident on your face. "Beautiful." He thinks, distantly, as his cock explodes with pleasure, shooting the familiar hot seed into you.

Ghost who starts watching you every time he fucks you. He can't get enough of your face. You just look so handsome, all covered in sweat and your face flush with pleasure.

Ghost who still definitely doesn't love you.

Ghost who argues with you, when you tell him you're catching feelings for him. He's mad, because now he has to face his own feelings.

Ghost who watches you run away to your room, crying. His pride preventing him from following you. Despite how much he wants to gather you in his arms, and love you.

Ghost who doesn't get the chance to apologise, as he's sent on a solo mission, lasting for 4 months straight. Who doesn't know what's happening back in the base, during his absence.

Soap who sees your heartbroken expression, and can't stand it.

Soap who brings you a beer, saying "bottom's up", in his glorious scottish accent.

Soap who listens all night, as you pour your heart out to him, crying until your eyes are dry and bloodshot. Who hugs you, until the alcohol makes you drift off peacefully.

Soap who's still there the next morning, stroking your hair, and helping you through your hangover. The care and affection making you melt slightly, not knowing what you needed.

Soap who desperately wants to ask you out, but is patient. He knows you need space.

Soap who can't wait anymore, who only 2 months after Ghost has left, takes you out. Who sits with you on a grassy hill, watching the sun go down. Holding your hand, and sipping some wine.

Soap who takes you back to bed that night, and unlike the rough thrusts and near silence of Ghost, is sweet. His honeyed words like a balm to your soul, his tender touches sending hot shivers down your spine. Who's cock isn't as big as Ghost's but who treats you like a precious gem.

Soap who makes you climax as many times as you want that night, and who finally fills you with his seed, only after making sure it's what you truly want.

Soap who gives perfect aftercare, holding you, reassuring you, loving you.

Soap Johnny who is the perfect boyfriend, and who after only a few weeks, when you're suddenly pregnant with his child, doesn't abandon you.

Johnny who proposes right then and there, not wanting you to feel abandoned ever again.

Ghost who returns from his mission, ready to apologise to you, knowing now that he really does love you.

Ghost who sees the strange looks, as he asks about you.

Ghost who is told about both yours and Johnny's honourable discharges.

Ghost Simon who sits in his room in the barracks, desperately trying to find any lingering remnants of your scent on his bed

Simon who cries that night, remembering your face, wanting to see it again. Not just flush with pleasure, but bright with joy. Grinning and laughing, smiling at him with the love he now feels tortured by

Simon who receives an invite to your's and Johnny's wedding, and covers it with his tears that night.

Simon who stands there, in a black suit, watching the love of his life walk down the aisle, with the protuding baby bump under your wedding clothes. But he's not standing at the end of the aisle.

Simon Riley, who watches as you change your last name to MacTavish, desperately wishing you were changing it to Riley

Johnny MacTavish, who holds you tightly, thankful for the chance to have you. Who'll never treat you wrong.

Your husband and father of your baby, Johnny, who made you believe in love again.

#this is different that what I usually write #but I've been building it in my head for days #and I desperately wanted to write it #maybe ooc for both of them but idc #ftm reader #male reader #x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader

[herecomesaspecialghoul]

((I'm so glad I got this on video. What kind of bug is this.))

#((ooc)) #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost the band #the nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul

[bonsiii-art]

Me, you, and the ghosts that decided to be my friends

(Yea, I can't think of a clever caption. But I got some art from this year I wanna post that I haven't yet so uh, don't mind me :P )

#cookie run #cookie run fanart #black garlic cookie #white ghost cookie #my art #bonsi's art #This was initially a warm up suggestion but then I made it a full drawing aaagh #sorry if they seem ooc; I only played like a minute of this event （；´д｀）ゞ

[scribz-ag24]

i feel emotional over these two.

#pmd2 #my art #actaeonshipping #futuretrioshipping #grovyle #dusknoir #chatot #celebi #future trio #toying the ooc line with dusknoir so i can make him look as smitten as possible #anyways what if dusknoir cant really feel touch like hugs and kisses but he loves them bc of what the gesture means #that celebi and grovyle perform those acts with him even if he is a ghost and doesnt have the warmth of living pokémon #i dont have headcanons i have ideas i enjoy for a full day and are ready to change any day

[spaceistheplaceart]

found an old ekurei comic rotting in my files, decided to finish it. upon my rewatch of mp100 i kept noticing how many times dimple was referred to as a pet- but he's not ! ! ! he's a friend :)

#not too happy w the writing but whatevs #sorry matsuo likers if hes ooc i used him as plot device #ekurei #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #dimple mp100 #comic #op art #ok continuing my thoughts here bc i dont want a whole essay up there #ik reigen calls him a pet as well but its more joking imo and also #this comic is after s3 when they r sort of friends #in my ekurei timeline tho they aint fusing yet. just pals #maybe have fused a few times but nothin srs yet #for those who dont follow me that will not make any sense lol #but even mob calls him a pet sometimes! or dehumanizes him. like. mob. you are the ghost seer. you should know better #now i could be misremembering that but still #everybody treats him like a mosquito or something which is funny but hes a person #he just looks different :( #long post

[ghouljams]

Ghoul if you don’t write Ghost absolutely falling apart ugly crying when he discovers what Gooses scar is about and how he possibly could have never met the love of his life Elmo is gonna SUE

Make. That. Man. Cry!!!

He doesn’t even bother knocking when he opens your door. You clutch your shirt to your chest, glaring over your shoulder at Simon. Rude. He just raises a brow and shuts the door tight behind him.

“Got a minute?” He asks, moving close, and you know you’re not going to tell him no. Not when his hand cups your face and he lets you tug his mask down to kiss him, your shirt forgotten on the floor.

He must’ve just come in. His skin is still warm from the sun where you touch him, and there’s the last taste of tobacco on his tongue. His hand slides over your chest as he kisses you, giving your breast an appreciative squeeze before dragging towards your fly. You make a quiet noise against his lips when it slips over your scar, his touch stilling against the slightly raised edges of it.

Simon's fingers feel over the scar, rough calloused pads dragging along the sensitive delicate skin. The ugly line of it where it cuts across your stomach. He drags his fingers along the whole thing, from your waist to where it stops just below your belly button. You wish you knew what he was thinking. You've had years to grow out of being self conscious, but that didn't mean it didn't still rear its ugly head. Especially when it was a man you- 

Simon probably doesn't even care, his torso is littered with scars. You're sure he doesn't even remember how he got half of them. 

"How'd you get this beauty?" He asks, so quiet you almost don't hear him.

"Sort of a blur," you tell him. He nods like he understands, you think he does.

"Tell me." Simon hums, dropping to his knees and pressing his lips to the top of the scar on your waist. You do your best not to wince, remembering the way the bull's horn had torn into you.

"Was helping the Lucas'," You start, "their bull is tipped now but back then they were all about-" Simon kisses you again, lower down the scar, your breath hitches, "-natural, uh, natural horns. I must've spooked it or something because it-" you let out a pained hum when he presses his lips lower still, tracing the line of the scar with his mouth, "-it caught me with its horn and ripped me clean open." You finish in a rush, Simon freezes.

"It what?" You hate when his voice goes even like that. When you can't hear his breathing anymore.

"Gutted, tore, nearly eviscerated," you give him the words the doctors used, that your dad used when he was upset. Your stomach jumps when Simon kisses it again, clean flesh this time, and presses his forehead against your diaphragm. "If Soap hadn't been there I probably wouldn't have made it," that's what the doctors had told him at least, "you know how long it takes EMS to get anywhere out here," Simon's fingers tighten on your hips, "he kept pressure the whole time, made sure all my guts stayed put." 

You thread your fingers through Simon's hair, scratching and pulling affectionately, "It's funny I don't even remember what we'd gone over to help with, but I remember how blue the sky was while I was laying in the grass waiting."

Simon has gone very quiet. He's completely still, save for his thumbs rubbing small circles against your hips. You're not sure who he's soothing. It happens quickly, his arms wrap around your hips and lift you so fast you have to duck to avoid hitting the ceiling fan. Curling over his head before he drops you on your bed. 

You let out a noise of surprise, opening your arms for him as Simon climbs on top of you and lays down. His head settled against your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, he doesn't say a word and you- you don't either. You let him have his silence. You let him lay on you, listen to the beat of your heart, the way your lungs fill when you take a breath, the rush of blood, the sounds of life. A life he almost missed. 

He's never been more thankful for one Sergeant MacTavish in his life. Never been more thankful for you, and all the little ways life had to go just right for him to meet you. Your fingers scratch the base of his skull, and you’re humming some quiet lilting tune he doesn’t know, but he wants to. He wants to know every thought that goes through your head, every kindness you’ll ever afford him. Every way he could show you he loves you. 

“You cryin’ baby?” You ask him gently, there’s no judgement in your voice, just the question.

“No.” He lies, feeling you hum your acceptance.

“S’okay,” You tell him, “I don’t mind.”

And you don’t. So he does.

Big heaving silent sobs that shake his whole body, fat tears that you brush away with every gentleness. You don’t think Ghost has ever cried, but you think Simon has needed to for a while. And he’s crying for you, over a loss that didn’t happen, over the pain you went through. Over the lonely days waiting for your body to be whole again, and the fact that neither of you will ever be lonely again. Maybe you’ll be hurt, but never lonely. You’ll make sure of it. He’ll make sure of it.

"Johnny burn down the Lucas' house?" Simon asks, looking up from where he'd buried his face in your chest with watery eyes.

"Just their barn," you cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb. Simon gives you a little hiccuping sob around his frown and angry eyebrows.

"Should've killed 'em." It's a little hard to take him seriously when his voice wobbles like that. When his lip trembles and tears start falling again. You shush him, and let him press his face against you again.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #oc: Goose #cowboy!Ghost #I don't think Simon ugly cries #I think he's very quiet about it #he doesn't want to burden others(or himself) with his emotions #good thing Goose wants him to be a burden on her #they lay together for a long time after this just being together #I think Simon falls asleep on her after he cries himself out #and then Goose is just stuck there #i feel like we get a little ooc with the crying but its part of his healing journey

[qtboni]

CONSEQUENCES — "He couldn't bring himself to admit it, but the truth was he was terrified. He had fought in countless battles, but nothing had prepared him for this."

With Simon Riley, he and the reader (can be gn/fem idc) have an argument, the first argument. It's not a big deal but Ghost starts to get terrified, he thinks she's going to break up with him. so while he's "If it's the end, please, let me know" she's like "baby i just got mad, i didn't stop wanting you"

pleasee♥️

╰﹒ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ 1K CELEBRATION ☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

CHOSEN DRABBLE: "He couldn't bring himself to admit it, but the truth was he was terrified. He had fought in countless battles, but nothing had prepared him for this."

W/C: 1.5K

"Listen, Simon," You desperately called out his name, trying to break his focus, trying so hard to keep a calm and collected tone, but your voice trembling gave away your worries. "Please just hea-"

"I don't need to hear it from you," He interjected with an uncaring tone, cutting you off mid-sentence. His words cut like a knife, and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. "It's none of your business."

"What?" You squeaked, your voice barely audible. Your heart was pounding, and you felt a lump form in your throat. Your hands were shaking, and you didn't dare to move or make a sound, as if the very act of breathing might anger him more.

"I don't think you get it," He snarled, his voice laced with anger and frustration. Glaring at you with a furious expression, his fist clenched tightly, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I can't tell you everything you want me to say or open or shits like that."

You took a deep breath before speaking again, trying to stay calm and collected despite the hurt you felt. "I know it can be hard for you to talk about your feelings. I really do understand," you began, your voice gentle and understanding. "But when I feel like you're keeping things from me, it hurts." You looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would hear you this time.

"Keeping things from you?!" Simon asked incredulously, his voice increasing in volume and making you flinch. His eyes were wide and intense as he stared you down. The anger and hostility in his voice was palpable, and it left you feeling small and hurt. "Bloody hell, can't you just leave me alone about this? You're the one getting emotional here, not me."

His words felt like a slap in the face, and you recoiled as if he had hit you. You regained your composure quickly, but the pain in your heart was still there. You felt insulted, anger even, and your voice reflected that when you spoke next.

"The fuck, Simon?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising in volume as your emotions boiled over. You felt like he didn't care about your feelings, and it was making you feel unseen and unheard. "I'm trying to find a compromise and you're not listening to me!"

Simon's words had cut deep, and the anger and hurt in your heart only grew as the argument continued. You realized that there was no way of getting through to him, no way of making him understand your emotions and your point of view. But.. you still want to try. So, you took a deep breath.

"Simon, I love you, you know I do," You said gently and he perked up to the sound of your exhausted tone as he sees the anguish written all over your face. He looks at you, trying to read your mind, but all you can do is shake your head as to not let the tears fall. "But I can't keep doing this."

Your words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unresolved conflict and pain. You couldn't keep fighting like this, couldn't keep having these arguments that led nowhere and only caused hurt. Simon's expression crumbles, and he starts to break slowly, unable to contain the emotions that have built up inside him.

It seemed as though all his carefully curated thoughts and words had been reduced to ashes in his tongue, leaving him with nothing but shock and disbelief. As he looked at you, his eyes wide and unblinking, you saw a brief flicker of hurt flash across his expression before settling back into that stoic calm of a mask he always has.

"Alright, I..." His voice trails off as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again, meeting your gaze with a mix of shame and resignation. He hesitates for a second, the words seeming to get lost in his throat before finally managing to speak. "I'm sorry. Just.. if that's what you want.. I'll move out tomorrow..."

'Huh? Move out?' It was the only thing that crossed your mind as you processed Simon's sudden declaration. Your jaw dropped as he turned and walked away before you even had a chance to understand what he said. Taken aback by his abrupt response, you bolted after him.

As you reached out and placed a hand on Simon's shoulder, you spoke to him from behind as he turned away from you. "No, Simon," your voice choked with emotion, "I didn't mean it like that. I don't want to leave you just because of this. We can... We have so much more time to understand each other. I just..." Your words trailed off for a moment as you took in his tense stance, his head down, shoulders hunched. "I don't want you to leave me out."

It was a moment of tense silence before the sound of quiet sniffling reached your ears, followed by the soft, almost rhythmic shaking of his shoulders. The sound was deafening inside the room, and your chest tightened with a mixture of hurt and pity. You softly called out to him, hoping to break the silence.

Turning him towards you slowly, you felt a lump form in your throat as your eyes locked with his, the pain and anguish etched into his face clear as day. Simon's eyes were red and there were tears slowly streaming down his face, streaking down his cheeks. He was shaking as you gently took his hands in yours, his eyes locked on yours, searching for something, anything, to calm him.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered softly, cradling your cheeks and pulling you close to him. His eyes filled with regret and sadness as he brought you into his arms, and you felt his body tense and shake, the emotion behind his words evident.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper, but you could feel the weight of his guilt and regret. His chest rose and fell with his breaths as he held you close, and you could feel his heart race as he tried to swallow back his emotions.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze soft, filled with both sincerity and a hint of sadness. "I hear you," he whispered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's just that-" he paused, his voice trailing off. "It's hard for me," he finally continued, "To be open. But-" his voice was filled with determination, as he took a deep breath before continuing, "But I'm willing to try... to try to be better for you."

"Oh.." you muttered, leaning in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers traced patterns on his skin as you looked into his eyes. The expression on his face was a mix of shock, guilt, and relief.

It was a relief to him to finally be able to say and do something, anything to make things right. And with every gentle stroke of your fingers, he could feel the weight of your love, the compassion in your eyes as you looked at him, and he felt the walls surrounding his heart crumbling, slowly and steadily.

It was a strange, yet welcome feeling, this sense of vulnerability and openness. He closed his eyes as you brought your foreheads together, the silence in the room seeming to stretch on forever.

"Simon.. thank you.." The words fell like snowflakes in the silent room, filling it with warmth and reassurance. It was his reminder of your love in him, the trust you placed in him to make things right again. Even if he was in the wrong. And the sight of tears coming out of your eyes was enough for him to lean in and wrap his arms around you, holding you close.

"It's going to be hard," you whispered, the sincerity in your voice evident. Your eyes met his as you spoke, and you could see the weight of his guilt in them, the strain of his emotions. But you also saw a glimmer of hope, a small spark that told you that there was a chance of making things right. "Just know that I'll be here with you every step of the way, okay?"

This was your way of telling Simon that you were committed to helping him, that you would be his rock, his anchor. 'I don't deserve you.'

Erasing the negative thoughts clouding his mind, Simon leaned in and kissed your lips in response. The kiss was soft and tender, a way of expressing his gratitude for you being there for him in his time of need, for your understanding and support.

"I love you..." His lips lingered on yours for a moment, before he finally pulled away with a look of love and appreciation in his eyes. It was a fresh start for him. "Thank you."

One where he felt as though he had finally found the motivation to make the necessary changes - to open up to you more and this relationship.

A/N: another angst story guys wow 😍☝️‼️ I rlly love torturing yall sm its how i show my love frfr /j

#simon my pookie bear #this might be slight ooc but idc HELP i js love writing simon sm #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon fluff #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #cod x reader #cod x you #👾 — [bonnie’s wk] #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost angst #simon angst #simon riley angst #cod mw2 #cod fluff #cod ghost #simon riley #simon riley ghost x reader

[galaxy-lilies]

wee-ooo i look just like buddy holly

#indiedraws #ooc #elsen #off elsen #off burnt #sketch #doodle #off mortis ghost #off game #off fanart

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Supersons +1 prompt answer Parte Dos

Parte Uno

Original Prompt

Jon couldn't help but take a peek at the large metal ring constructed behind the massive form of Dr Fenton, its size and shape dwarfing man and son. He couldn't watch for much longer, however, as their encounter with Daniel was expedited by Damian's impatience. Maybe he was just itching for a fight, or a supervillain to beat down. Either way, as Superboy, it was his job to make sure Daniel walked out with all his limbs intact!

"Daniel Fenton." But Damian was interrupted just as fast as he had started.

"Ew, no, it's Danny thank you very much. Only my parents when they're angry, and- bleh- Vlad, call me Daniel."

Damian scowled (he was doing that a lot today). "Daniel Fenton, we have some questions for you."

"Guess that's not gonna happen."

Time to intervene. Jon stepped between Damian and Danny, arms outstretched, with a friendly but diplomatic smile. "What Damian here means is we're suuuuper curious about your dad's research, aren't you Damian?"

"...Yes."

"If you wanna know more about my Dad's research, why don't you uhh." Danny bobbed his head at Mr Fenton's direction, the man in the midst of grabbing onto an unfortunate bystander and extolling the virtues of his next invention.

"Your father has proven lacking in his ability to explain his own work, which is why the responsibility now falls on to you, Daniel Fenton, if that's even your real name."

Wow, laying it on real thick, aren't you Damian.

Danny very pointedly ignores the death stare (hehe, death stare) from Dami to look to Jon. "And you are...?"

"Jon, I'm here with my dad too! He's a reporter, but some of this stuff's got me bored out of my mind. I mean, a flying toilet? Really??"

This manages to get a chuckle out of Danny. "You saw that too? And here I thought I'd get to see some normal inventions around here."

"I know right! I feel subconscious even with bathroom stalls and stuff. What are you gonna do, bring a flying curtain?"

"Honestly I know some folks back home who could find it handy." Danny said, a mysterious smirk on his lip. What could be so mysterious about a bunch of streakers back home? Or...

"Would you like to elaborate on that statement, Fenton?" Damian cut in. "Or the function of the garish-looking gateway erected by your Father?"

"Oh that? That's the Fenton PortaPortal."

"Porta what?" Jon asked.

"The Porta Portal. Portable Portal. It's like the one back home, 'cept it's light enough to move around."

"Portal to where exactly?"

Danny shrugs. "The Ghost Zone, where else?"

"You mean to say your parents have breached the afterlife using science?"

"Hah!" Danny laughs. "But it won't work, trust me." There was that knowing grin again.

"You seem pretty sure, Danny. Also wait, you have one of these back home?"

"Yeah, and it let in the raging hordes of the undead on my town. Overshadowing (that's possession btw), taking over the school with meat, box-based assault, replacing people like changelings, that one time a ghost tried to blow up my sister with a laser, that one time the Ghost King kidnapped the entire town and transported it to the Realms..." Danny listed out various dangerous situations like it was Tuesday, ignorant of the dawning horror upon his audience's faces. Jon himself was starting to feel a little green. Ghosts? Hundreds of ghosts? Each of them capable of possession, and according to Danny, much more?!

"How has the Justice League not heard of this kind of thing?" Jon tried, but failed to hide the slight shiver in his voice.

Danny shrugged. "Guess they dismissed our calls as pranks or something."

"Your father wishes to unleash the legions of undead upon Gotham?!" Damian stepped forward, getting up in Danny's face.

"Woah woah woah, chill out man. Mom and Dad actually learned from the last time and built like eight layers of shielding around the portal, not that it'll be necessary since it won't work anyway."

"And why are you so sure? Did you sabotage it? For whwat purpose would you tamper with your own parents' inventions?"

"Dami, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Jon said, trying to pull Damian away without any obvious use of super strength.

"Yeah Dami, I'm just a kid, like you. You see an engineering degree anywhere that can be used to sAboTAgE anything? 'Cause I don't."

Damian glared at the other boy for just a second longer, before Jon was finally able to pry him off the poor kid. "I'm so sorry, Damian's just kinda intense sometimes, he really means well I-"

"It's fine. Besides, I'm bored as hell over here too. Since we're about sixty-nine million years below the average age of this place. what say we hang and laugh?" Danny got up and stretched his legs.

"Sure! Hey you seen the oven that's supposed to bake pizza in under ten seconds? Come on, Damian spotted this amazing design flaw, you just have to come with."

As Jon dragged them away, Damian muttered under his breath, deviously. "Good job, Kent, escorting Fenton to a secondary location for further questioning."

~~~~~ They spent the next hour roaming the convention centre, laughing and snorting their lungs out at the inventions, and the rich suckers lapping them up. Although Damian was initially as frosty as Superman's ice breath, Danny's mention of a glowing green ghost dog managed to gain his attention, if veiled behind suspicion and accusation. Looks like no squeezing was necessary, but the idea of a whole town of magical beings that possessed as easily as they breathed still made Jon nauseous.

"My parents actually get me keep him, without the threat of dissection, it's amazing!"

"Your parents dissect animals?" Damian spat out with all the hatred of a thousand dying suns.

"Ghosts, and they never have. Kept getting away. For some reason. Nowadays they're more into non-invasive study. and by non-invasive I mean totally invasive of things like privacy, and alone time." Danny grumbled.

"I feel you, man." Imagine having a dad with super hearing. Or growing up with the world's greatest stalkers.

"Privacy is an illusion." Damian being normal challenge IMPOSSIBLE

They had no more time to banter before Dr Fenton's booming voice echoed across the centre.

"AND NOW FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, THE SHOWCASE OF THE FENTON PORTAPORTAL AND THE LATEST IN FENTON SURVEILLANCE TECHNOLOGY, BEHOLD!"

"Just watch." Danny said.

Jack slammed his fist upon the on button, which was thankfully on the outside this time. The circular rings around the portal spun and spun, creating an electric whirring sound building up to a crescendo...

Only for the portal to fizzle out, as the crowd's jeers reached a fever pitch.

"Told you so."

Danny's triumph lasted not for another minute, however, when his body shivered and a cold mist broke through his lips. "Shit." He muttered. At least Jon and Damian were looking away. Danny's eyes scanned the crowd. Jack Fenton's sorrow was wiped away as the sensors in his suit came to life. He whipped out a comically large ecto-gun, shouting. "I KNEW IT! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK FROM GHOSTS!!!"

Danny needed look no longer as piercing laughter filled the auditorium. A swarm of green bats descended upon the centre, causing chaos and confusion. Those among the crowd sensible enough to run for the exits found themselves halted by bars locking them shut. Jack opened fire, but was overwhelmed by dozens of ghost bats.

Danny looked for anywhere he could silp away and transform. Damian and Jon did the same. None of them could an opportunity, as two pairs of hands swept them off their feet, and bindings tied them together. Their eyes widened as they gazed upon their captors. Two men adorned with white face paint. One in a gothic waistcoat, the other with green hair and a purple suit.

The infamous Joker, and the not as infamous Freakshow, both in hysterical laughter.

"I really gotta give it to you Danny-boy, that sabotage act you pulled really put us for a loop!" The Joker gasped out between laughs. He pulled out a remote with a large red button. "But I, the Joker, have out-sabotaged your sabotage! AHAHAHAH"

The Joker pressed the buttom, causing the portal to roar back to life.

"Damian!" Bruce Wayne yelled.

"Jon!" Clark Kent shouted.

"DANNY BOY!" Jack cried out, but they were too late to stop the swarm of bats carrying all three boys through the newly reactivated portal, and were too late to follow before the whole thing blew to pieces in a fiery halo.

To be continued....

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #crack #prompt answer #jon kent #jack fenton #damian wayne #shenanigans #supersons #ghost zone #infinite realms #good parents jack and maddie #we need more good parents content where they still try to shoot danny #it needs to happen #i am an amateur writer plz forgive me #I am a stoopid so sowwy for any OOC ;-;