#ghost fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midnightarcheress · 2 days

Text

Simon thinks he could live like this.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: nothing he's just down bad 7 | gold rush masterlist.

“are you insane?!” Daniel shouts, slamming the door behind him and stomping his feet towards Simon with a menacing look, “you think you can just move her around like this?”

“she wasn’t safe in that house, this is for her protection,” he answers promptly, crossing his arms and taking a step in front of you, covering your frame from the irate man. if he could, he’d land a punch on his face in no time, not caring that technically he’s his boss.

“yeah? and you simply have to be here with her, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. you watch the scene unfold from behind Simon, brows knitted together and bottom lip nearly bleeding from biting too much. he’d managed to momentarily tranquillize you, bring you back to earth after the terrifying panic state, but the anxiety kept simmering underneath your skin, just waiting for another chance to take over your body.

“the shitty security system you put in her house wasn’t enough to prevent the bastard from intrudin’, the bloody alarm didn’t even go off,” he retorts, eyes shooting daggers straight ahead, “so yeah, i’m gonna stay with her for as long as it’s necessary. contract says to protect her, doesn’t it?”

the two of them stay quiet, a silent staring competition on Daniel’s side, a mere warning on Simon’s side. he won’t budge, won’t allow you to go back to that house, hand you on a silver platter to the grim reaper hiding behind letters and eerie messages.

Dan leans on his side to look at you, ignoring the mass of a man in front of him. “are you sure about this?” his tone is strangely soft, like a switch flipped in his mind, all anger vanishing. you nod, offering him a small smile that does a poor job of concealing how nervous you are about the situation. he purses his lips, taking one last glance at Simon’s unwavering posture before sighing in defeat.

it’s been two weeks since the mirror message that led Simon into comforting you, and two weeks since he had to control his own panic, trying his best not to spiral. it had been a while since he shared a living space, so staying with you feels like a dream that he’s constantly afraid of turning into a nightmare by saying the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, or even thinking about what’s happening.

the safe house Price arranged is far from the size you’re used to, being at least three times smaller than your own house. but to his surprise, again, your reaction to it contradicts his expectations. it could just be you being a phenomenal actress, covering your resentment behind a beaming smile, but you seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence easily, didn’t protest once, never lamented the loss of luxury and privacy.

he wanted to deny the feeling, shove it deep down in his brain and lock the safe, but it was nice, the domesticity of it all. it was nice learning little details about your routine; how you only get out of bed the second time your alarm rings; how you’re definitely not a morning person, judging by the gruff good morning you mumble when you slide to the counter stool; how you love trying new recipes and quietly dance in the kitchen, freezing when you notice him watching you; or how you’re always carrying something to read, it being a book or a script.

it was nice making you coffee in the morning and seeing you rub your sleepy eyes, nice hearing you humming a song in the shower, nice catching a glimpse of you in lingerie when you forget to lock your bedroom door, nearly making him choke in his own spit by the sight of the small tattoo on your hip. is it a star? a flower?

he felt like he was playing house with you. a game where you’re his loving wife and he’s a devoted husband, where he could feed his delusions, live everything he was convinced he’d never have in this lifetime. inside those walls, he could do it all, except the one thing he longed the most – touch you. kiss the top of your head when you’re baking in the kitchen, run his fingers through your hair when you’re curled up on the couch, feel your soft skin under his fingertips when you lay in bed, bend you over the table when you pass by him in skimpy pyjama shorts.

“do you... wanna watch a movie?” you ask, remote in hand and head leaned back on the sofa, chewing the inside of your cheek and attentively glaring at the television. he tilts to the side, stirring his thoughts away and taking in the view of your features illuminated by the bright lights coming from the screen. it was easy to get lost in how beautiful you were, a magical creature brought to earth to bewitch him.

your head suddenly shifts to where he’s sitting, and it hits him that you’re still expecting an answer. fuck. “uh, yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snapping back to the telly, swallowing the desires his throat dared to spill.

later that day, Simon steps onto the front porch for a much-needed nicotine fix, dark blues painting the sky as the last rays of sunlight vanish from the horizon. he hates the burning sensation of the smoke in his lungs, but always craves the lightheadedness and dopamine flush in his veins, no matter how many years it takes from his life.

“god!” you jump, looking behind you and putting a hand over your chest to steady your rapid heartbeat, “you really are a ghost, aren’t you?” a chuckle falls from your lips after the startle, travelling the air like a lullaby, and he ignores the flutter in his chest that happens whenever you laugh.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you shrug and turn back to your initial position, sitting on the steps and watching the crunchy tree leaves dancing in the breeze. he follows your gaze to the front lawn, bringing a cigarette from the pack to his lips, debating if he should truly smoke with you in there. you never complained, but he’s caught you frowning at the thin cardboard a few times around the house, so he decides not to light it.

“can i ask you something?” you blurt out, lifting your chin to face him, eyes searching for his, and his head dips, irises focusing on yours. one brow raises at your sudden curiosity and he nods, back propped against the column, waiting, “why Ghost?”

his jaw tenses, gaze shifting from you to the carton in his hands. the ever-dreaded question. “dunno. just a nickname.” lie. he couldn’t tell you how everything was taken from him and he faked his death years ago; how he truly became the ghost of man. you don’t deserve to be burdened with that knowledge, so it is just a nickname.

he looks back to you, gauging if you bought his deflection or not. you’re still focused on him, vision flicking at every crease of his expression, waiting for any falter, but it doesn’t come. “you can call me Simon.”

the thin line of your lips breaks into a smile, cheeks rising and making his heart skip a beat. so much for easy detachment, “okay, Simon.”

the way i still have at least ten parts of this story in my outline but i'm so unmotivated to write it :(

220 notes · View notes

sunnyswide · 1 day

Text

Simon x You.

Shit he misses you.

Having most of his days in constant pumps of adrenaline it's hard to think of anyone else. Even you.

But when he does miss you, it's all he has.

Utterly tired out of his mind, sore at every muscle point.

Thoughts drained as he slowly pulled off the layers of armor. The belt. The vest. The boots. Just thinking of you.

"Luv.. I missed ya"

"Missed me?"

Speaking to himself in hushed whispers, so he can hear it, listening to your soft voice playing in his mind when he stops talking.

"Was thinking bout you.. every night"

"Oh? Even on duty?"

He'd think of lines, responses you'd say to every comment. His imagination spurred during the nights. His inner world was too preoccupied with the sound of your voice, the face you'd make, the white noise in the background. Too distracted to put back his gun, too distracted to loosen his shirt, too distracted to clean the black around his eyes.

"Hm, sometimes. Couldn't help it. Wish you were here.."

"If I was there.. I.."

He'd come back from each mission to the silence of his home. The emptiness spoke volumes as he brushed his rough fingers across the still walls. The curtains where he left them. The bed untouched.

You were nothing but a figment of his mind. But he'd play his own either way.

"I'm home"

"Took you long enough!"

You'd jump into his arms, embraced by the smell of his ashy body.

You'd start tearing up after so long, muffled into his chest

You'd eagerly wash his body, massage each painful wound.

You'd run your fingers through his hair, playfully pulling each tangled strand harder than needed to hear him grunt.

You'd let him make sweet love to you over.. and over.. and over.

Won't you?

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon fluff #ghost fluff #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon cod

93 notes · View notes

iamthecomet · 1 day

Text

Decadence

A (late) birthday gift for the incredible, amazing, fanatsic @forlorn-crows. Love you, Crowwwww. Happy late birthday ♥♥.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Cumulus/Mountain Featuring: A slow lazy afternoon, cuddles, oral sex, vaginal fingering, Mountain being down bad. Cumulus letting him take care of her. Decadence. Kind of edging? I guess? I don't know man they're just really really into each other. Soft. God it's so soft. Word Count: 3.2k

Mountain and Cumulus share a lazy afternoon.

“Careful,” he mumbles.

And she doesn’t want to be. Not after months on the road and cramped bunks and uncomfortable hotel beds. She knows he’s trying to preserve this, mostly for her. To let the afternoon stretch and contract. That the only way it stays endless is if they never move, never shift–never evolve.

And Cumulus, despite the sleepy weight in her limbs, wants very badly to evolve.

Read it all on AO3.

72 notes · View notes

cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 2 days

Text

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 3

Dew feels guilty, Rain screws up.

Rating: M now, to be safe Content: side character death, minor descriptions of violence, flashbacks, peril Words: 2253

Link to all chapters with associated tags: Tumblr | AO3

hi hi @revengeghoulette here's your alert! and @everybodyshusband you seemed very keen haha!

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew stomped along the path surrounding their fields. The warm sun overhead taunted him, it's rays full of promise and life while he felt only cold and empty inside. He knew he'd been too harsh on Rain, deep down, but he'd have to be threatened with banishment to the pit to admit that. Dewdrop refused to allow himself to feel guilty; that was a slippery slope of self-hatred he knew he wouldn't be able to crawl back up from. He knew he could be short-tempered, and he harboured enough resentment of his own that it was bound to overflow into his actions.

Rain seemed to have had things so much easier than him though, it wasn't fair. From the day he arrived he had bonded with the others in a way Dew had struggled to. They would chitter and purr at Rain for the slightest thing, whereas they had remained suspicious of him for ages. Dew was self-aware enough however to realize that he hadn't helped his case by hissing and growling at his packmates for the smallest thing.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt. Rain got a lot of leeway for being young, the others quick to write off his transgressions as ignorance rather than malice, but they forgot Dew was young too. Despite presenting himself as world-wise and experienced, he was closer in age to Rain than he was to any of the rest of his packmates. He'd worked hard to rewrite his time before Aether and Mountain found him, both the most difficult and most sheltered parts, but he couldn't erase their impact.

He continued his mission uphill, to the base of a large oak tree that overlooked their whole farm and surrounding area. Smoke curled from the chimneys of houses in the village in the distance, and a multicoloured patchwork of fields spread out around them. Following the path in the opposite direction, Dew could just make out the dark speck of Rain walking to Farmer Wilkins’. He was stubborn, not taking Dew's constant snipes to heart, Dew had to grudgingly respect that. He watched until Rain turned a corner and was lost from sight.

~~~~~~~

On the walk over, Rain was also enjoying the warm weather as he followed the stream. There was barely a cloud in the sky, the open blue expanse painted with faint white wisps reached as far as the eye could see. Rain could see why his help was needed: the summer had stretched on for several glorious months, and the ground beneath his feet was showing signs of cracking from lack of rainfall. A gentle breeze worked to sweep the cobwebs that still clung tightly to his dream and Dew's comments from his mind.

Arriving at the farm with sweat beginning to bead on his forehead from the heat, Rain was greeted by Farmer Wilkins, sat out on his porch. He was a jovial man, round and ruddy faced, with a vigour for life that defied his advancing age. Rain didn't know him well, but he was a regular down at the village tavern and always had a spare word or smile for Swiss when he passed by.

“Good mornin’, Rain! I didn’t expect to see you so soon, please, sit down. My daughter Marina’s preparing some elderflower cordial against this hot weather. We can wait ‘til you’re rested to begin!”

Rain awkwardly accepted the proffered seat on the porch bench, glad for the shaded spot after the heat of his walk. He heard light footsteps approaching, and looked up to see a young woman emerge from the cottage holding a tray of glasses and a jug of pale liquid.

Her dark hair fluttered around her pretty face in the breeze, and Rain gasped feeling as though he’d been shot in the chest: she was the spitting image of his childhood sweetheart. From the gentle wave in her ebony hair to the asymmetric dimples in her cheeks as she smiled at him in greeting, they could have been twins if not for her obvious humanity.

Noticing Rain’s slack-jawed stare, the farmer chuckled good-naturedly.

“Quite a looker, ain’t she Son! Don’t be getting any funny ideas, she’s engaged to the lad down the road. Childhood sweethearts, they were!”

Rain was struck by the similarities to his own previous life. In another world, his water ghoulette’s father could have spoken of him like that. Instead, Rain had the distinct impression that he had been glad to see Rain leave.

Feeling as though he was watching himself behind glass, Rain accepted a drink with shaky hands. Marina rolled her eyes at his stuttered thanks, but smiled kindly at him as she headed back inside. Luckily, the farmer seemed happy to keep the conversation moving all by himself, leaving Rain to nod in what he hoped were the appropriate places. He sipped his drink in an attempt to replace the moisture in his mouth, which was now as dry as sand. Moving his limbs to raise the glass, Rain felt like he was pulling at the strings of a marionette puppet.

Once Farmer Wilkins had exhausted his supply of one-sided small talk, the pair headed out to the fields, beginning with the one closest behind the house. Here, the corn grew luscious and tall: Mountain did a stellar job encouraging the crop earlier in the season. Rain had tagged along that day, watching as Mountain pressed his palms to the ground to imbue it with his own magical energy.

Now Rain stood in the field without the earth ghoul by his shoulder, feeling alone and detached. He sensed the eager eyes of the farmer watching him, the intense interest making Rain’s knees begin to tremble anxiously. He took a deep breath, and copied what he had done before with Mountain, what he had seen and heard Aether do a hundred times.

Raising his arms out in front of him, palms to the sky, Rain closed his eyes and called out,

“Ancient Spirits! Bless this land, that it be free from drought and pestilence.” he swept his arms around a bit, then turned his palms to the ground. “Gracious Earth, protect these bountiful crops so they may feed us another year.”

Rain winced at how fake it all felt, like he was just going through the motions, and the flowery language rang false in his ears. He cracked his eyes open and saw the farmer – along with half a dozen or so curious farmhands who had downed tools to stare – watching in barely concealed fascination. He squeezed his eyes shut again, waved his arms around a final time in what he hoped was a convincing manner, and went silent as he tried to connect with his element. Rain knew the others could control their power while talking and moving, but he still struggled without devoting his complete concentration to it.

He felt the motion of the water in the stream at the foot of the field, the weight of the droplets in the few scraps of cloud overhead. Flexing his fingers, Rain imagined drawing them in, encouraging them towards the field. He sensed the flowing rivulets of water from the creek begin to channel through the ground, moistening the dry soil around the roots of the crops. The clouds above thickened imperceptibly with the promise of future raindrops.

As Rain felt the water begin to do his bidding, he opened his eyes again to ensure that none of his changes were visible to the small audience of humans. From day one, Aether had instilled the value of plausible deniability into Rain. He insisted it was the most important part of using their elemental connections outside of ghoulish colonies, that they should never give the humans too much evidence of their power and should always leave them with a rational explanation.

As the light flooded his retinas, he saw her standing there: Marina was hovering behind her father's shoulder, watching Rain work with a curious smile and her uncannily familiar dimples. Rain choked on his breath as the sharp stab of longing for his lost future caused him to double over. The pain coursed through his veins and as it did so, Rain felt it cross over with his call to the water. Unbidden, he felt the shock and subsequent rush of emotions transfer into the water he was drawing in, reacting to the ache he had taught himself to supress.

The wisps of feathery clouds he had been coaxing to coalesce now slammed into each other as though pulled by a magnetic force. More water joined from seemingly nowhere, until the clouds hung dark grey and pregnant above the field. Unable to stop the flow of emotionally charged elemental power, Rain watched in horror as the water from the creek rose up, bursting its banks and rushing uphill in an unstoppable tidal wave of water. It reached higher than the stalks of corn, barrelling towards the assembled crowd and flattening the crops indiscriminately. He tried frantically to cut the connection and stop the flow, but with no success.

Rain's panic began to grow, only adding to the ferocity of the water, and the clouds took this as their sign to drop their contents onto those gathered below. The deluge of raindrops hit at the same time as the towering wall of water did, knocking Rain to his feet as he screamed out for the flood of both water and emotions to stop assaulting his body and mind. As the water covered his face, he felt his gills burst free and his glamour dissolve. Rain fought against the water as it dragged him further up the field and back towards the cottage.

To his horror, he saw a flash of dark hair dragged past him. The currents of his own creation slammed the girl against the stone wall of the farmhouse and pinned her there, suspended in a grotesque position, until eventually releasing her to crumple limply into the churning water below. Rain barely had time to process what he was seeing, before he heard a shattering of glass as another farmhand, a boy from the village who could barely have been fifteen, was thrown through the glass roof of a greenhouse. The rain that was still pouring down on them did nothing to dilute the obvious red of the blood spreading through the water.

The tidal wave finally retreated down the field, revealing the destruction left in its wake as it did so. The body of another farmhand emerged from the frothing stream, lifeless without the swirling of the water to animate it. Those remaining staggered to their feet, screaming out in terror. At seeing the carnage and bodies scattered across the field, they turned their anger on Rain. Feeling all the eyes on him, Rain took off running with no heed for where he was heading. Farmer Wilkins let out a howl of anguish as he cradled his daughter's mangled corpse, turning into a roar of anger directed at Rain. The farmhands left alive scrabbled for their abandoned tools scattered by the currents and gave chase, baying for Rain's blood.

As Rain hurled himself down the road, he realised too late that he was heading straight for the centre of town. The noise of the men chasing him attracted the attention of the occupants of the houses he fled past until a small mob was following him, figurative and literal pitchforks raised. Half-crazed, with fear threatening to paralyse him if he paused, Rain kept on running. Lungs burning, he kept pumping his legs as fast as they would go. His feet were now fully unglamoured and the excess webbing between his toes made his shoes feel too small. Every step was agony and yet he knew if he stopped, he was as good as dead.

Rain's mind started to swim, his actions and their consequences catching up with him making him feel dizzy and nauseous. With his tail now caught in his trousers, his balance was almost entirely gone. He felt his foot catch on a loose stone and as he went flying, he knew it was all over. Rain hit the sandy ground hard, all the breath knocked out of him. His eyes frantically swivelled left and right as he scrabbled backwards. Seeing double, Rain stared through the cloud of dust he had kicked up at the crowd bearing down on him. He registered the approaching shovel only as it slammed into the side of his head, stars flashing across his vision before everything went black.

~~~~~~~

From his seat under the tree, Dew was close to dozing off when something caught his attention. He watched in confusion as dark clouds appeared and raced across the sky, before combining together over one field. The air underneath them rippled with falling waves of the torriential rain falling from them. Dewdrop realised a few things simultaneously: firstly, those clouds weren't natural. Dew knew enough about elemental magic to recognise it when he saw it. Secondly, that amount of rain was dangerous and sure to catch the attention of the townsfolk, especially given the recent stretch of warm weather. Lastly, he realised in horror that the clouds were centred directly over the very field Rain had gone to that morning.

Dew leapt to his feet and took off running back to the farmhouse. This was it; all of their worst fears come to life. Their cover was well and truly blown and Dew had to get to the others.

#what you've done you cannot undo #cw angst #cw death #cw violence #mild but still there #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #foot of the gallows marriage #medieval au #historical au #enemies to lovers #ghost #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost fanfiction #raindrop month #em writes

32 notes · View notes

dwritesit · 2 days

Text

Orchids and Seashells updated!

Chapter two: Daisies

Summary: Dewdrop makes a bouquet, and an impulsive decision because he's stupid and he's gay. Rain tattoos his new favorite client and finally gets to know him better - as a friend, of course.

Read the newest chapter Here!

Read the first chapter Here!

Preview:

...

“What is that?”

A pause.

And then, “A bouquet.”

“I can see that, but why does it look like that?” Mountain peered over Dewdrop’s shoulder. He really was like a mountain this way, completely shadowing over the others’ body. Once upon a time it would have sent a chill down Dewdrop’s spine, but the gentle giant posed a threat no longer.

Dewdrop did not turn to look at him, just continued, albeit more stiffly, picking flowers from various bins and buckets to add to the arrangement he had in his other hand, “It’s for SaleDay.”

“It doesn't look like any of the others we had planned.”

“I'm getting creative.”

“Dew.”

Dewdrop sighed and finally turned to his business partner (and best friend), “Fine. You caught me. I'm making an arrangement for the neighbors because I'm stupid and I'm gay. Happy?”

Mountain laughed, his amused laugh that was more of a large exhale out of his nose, and sat down on the bucket next to Dewdrop, beginning to set up another bouquet - one actually matching the spring design they had decided on weeks ago.

“By neighbors, I don't think you mean Mr. Peters next door?” He asked, playfully nudging Dewdrop in the side as he worked.

Dewdrop couldn’t help but smile, “It’s the stupid guy from the stupid tattoo parlor.”

...

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #sodo ghoul #raindrop #raindrop ghost #raindrop fic #mountain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #dwritesit #dwrites raindrop #dewdrop x rain #raindrop flowershop vs tattoo shop au #ghost fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

mightiestofmumblers · 12 hours

Text

Simon Riley, who's been surrounded by death for longer than he can remember. It's become harder and harder to remember the years without it. Whether the ones who fall are the soldiers beside him or enemies at his own hands no longer matters to him, not really, not like it should.

Ghost, who becomes used to watching that final spark leave a set of eyes before they become glossy and empty. It takes him years to notice that final little thing. Nothing more than a reflection, but She's there.

Ghost, who questions Price and Soap, quietly and reluctantly, but they don't understand. They don't get it like he does. And it doesn't make sense, he knows it doesn't. Soldiers are known to go insane after too long in the field, perhaps that's what's happening to him.

It's after not sleeping for 60 hours that he sees Her after all, sweeping or floating through the battlefield, draped in every colour on the spectrum and not a single one of them. Ghost has never seen a face like it, and he knows he never will. All of Her reeks of paradoxical features and curves that swirl and change whenever he thinks he's finally grasped some aspect of Her. She bends down, soft and caring, as the final light slips from his teammate's eyes, and She carries him with her while his body remains.

The second he tries to stop Her, reach out and touch her, his hands slip through her. For one moment lasting years and less than a second, She glances at him. He doesn't blink, but She disappears anyway.

Years pass. Ghost recognises her. Always. In time, she watches him through reflections. She follows him wherever he goes. But there's nothing cruel about it. It's impossible with the sad smile shining from Her. It's not something she does but rather something that she is.

Ghost, who no longer has any true fears on the battlefield. It's simply another work day. But it changes when he sees Her. How She looks at him. He isn't afraid of Death but he manages to stagger back. Running is futile, he's seen others feverishly try to crawl from Her, fingers scraping at the ground until the skin wears away, a bloody trail following the leg no longer there and all of it with no use. Fighting is quite the same: as impossible as this entire thing is improbable.

"Shhh." Something beyond a voice, coming from his own head, he's sure, coos. "So close to me. You rarely ever are. How long has it been? No... you're alright, my love."

Ghost stops. She's infinitely tall yet he looks down at Her. Her smile isn't sad as She stretches a hand towards him, lifting the bottom of his mask, and that's when an inkling of fear finds him. For years, She's been his sole comfort on the battlefield. A single neverending entity he could always trust to be with him no matter how many years were to pass, but after wishing for so long to see Her, have Her closer, he wants nothing more than hundreds of miles to separate them.

"Is it time?"

"Afraid not, love." She smiles with a thousand pleasant summer days and cosy winter nights. "I have a job to do, but you've been close to me for so long. I want to see your face before I go."

Death lifts the skull, removes every layer until his scarred skin is visible to Her.

"How can I see you?"

"What a wicked thing it is." A sigh falls from wonderful lips as She caresses his cheek with a cool touch. "I'm sorry, Simon."

"Simon..." He repeats, tasting the foreign word.

She's fading.

"Wait! How can I-"

"Don't worry, love. No matter what, you'll see me again at the end."

Ghost becomes worse, more than he's ever been. With enough blood on his hands and enough souls at his feet, he can see Her again. He haunts the battlefields like never before, staring into the eyes of his victims for the mere chance of catching a glimpse. However long, no matter how many bodies it takes, he will see Her again.

« ⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑ »

I've had this in my ideas doc for, like, years, and I just needed to get it out lmao. I'd love to write a full fic but unless I'll get 30 hours in a day, I don't have that kinda time lmao.

#cod #call of duty #ghost #drabble #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #141 #task force 141 #fan #fan fiction #wri #writing #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

52 notes · View notes

mar3ggiata · 2 days

Text

professional help, c7. Beware of the dog.

simon riley x original character.

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

song to listen to when reading this: Dark red, Steve Lacy.

abstract: Simon. I don't fucking know what to say about this chapter, I was moving in autopilot. and I'm just being a decent fucking human being, what do you expect me to say really? just start reading already.

She took a look around. The men in the room were looking at her like she was gonna spontaneously combust and explode. Some of them had their lips pressed in a thin line. I'm sorry Jude, this is the part fo the movie where you die! Simon on her right was frowning, his eyebrows slightly peering through his mask. She started imagining if she just left right now. Took her dog, got to the airport and moved to Spain. The Maldives, maybe. She started a new life as a new person once at 18, she could do it again now seven years later. Or maybe she just needed to go home, smoke every little bit of weed she had left, curl up in bed and die. She started laughing. She had always thought her laugh was the most awful sound in the word. She started laughing, she looked psychotic. She hid her smile with her right hand through her head back. Her voice was the only sound in the room, ripping apart the air. It was a terrifying sight. Fuck me sideways. How could she be so stupid to get back to that job in the first place, after what happened in 2021. 'Oh God…' she sighed when she regained a little bit of control over her laughter which still lingered in the air like a distorted melody. She was still smiling. The first time he saw her smile, laugh even. It sounded real, she sounded genuinely delighted.

Simon decided he wanted nothing to do with her right in that moment. She scared him to death, who knew a woman could be this attractive and scary at the same time. Price seemed to think showing her the calendar wasn't a good idea after all and quickly took the piece of paper and pushed it to the side. 'Look Jude, we're gonna escort you home, it's gonna be fine, we're going to continue to look for him until we have to leave.' He was trying to calm her down and, frankly, she looked perfectly fine. She looked like she was at a dinner party with her favourite friends, a glass of Champaign in her hand, her eyes shining with little tears of joy from laughing too much. Except, she laughed because she was scared. 'I've seen this film before, captain', she said, her words sounded venomous. Her eyes were dark, filled with sorrow and regret. Something like this happened before, and the captain knew.

'No, I'm telling you, it will be fine.' Price was trying to convince her. 'Gentlemen, we have an early flight tomorrow, we're going to keep looking for Arash until we find something and we'll brief again at nine, tonight. If they know we're coming, things might get ugly.' Jude was no where to be found. Well, she was still in the room, but her smile left space to an expression of defeat, like she had accepted her fate. Her eyes didn't look as bright, she kept wiping the palm of her hands on her thighs. Simon had noticed. His eyes locked with the captain's and they understood each other. Take her away, this was the sign. He quickly turned towards her, slouching downwards to speak closer to her. 'Let's go Jude', he instructed. She didn't look up at him, keeping her eyes low, but made her way to the door. He was walking beside her matching her speed. 'Take your car, I'll follow you' he said, and she still didn't answer.

'Jude' he called and finally she looked at him 'What!?' She raised her voice. She was mad again. Like the first time he saw her, fists curled with rage, on the verge of tears. He tried to keep his voice as gentle as he could. 'It's alright, everything's going to be fine', he tried to talk to her like he would do in an hostage rescue situation. 'I'll get you home. I know how to do my job', he reassured. He thought knowing he knew what to do might make her feel better. She nodded and quickly walked to her car. He followed her car all the way to the city, trying not to lose her in traffic. She parked in a busy residential street and he quickly followed. When she got out she looked for him, and waited for him to get out of the truck. She trusted him. Not because he was someone special, but from what she'd gathered he was someone Price trusted, he was probably good at his job. And he seemed kind.

'This way' she said, making her way to her apartment. She gave him her keys, he made his way to the door and got his gun out of the holster. He then noticed the little sign on the side of the door. 'Beware of the dog'. 'You scared of dogs?' she asked quietly, appearing on his side like the angel on his shoulder. Under his shoulder, let's say. Now, was he afraid of dogs, no. Did he have the best relationship ever with animals? Focus, you have a job to do, kill the dragon, save the princess. 'Stay back'. He opened the door and peered through with his gun drawn. The only sound that came from inside was a loud bark and paws on the floor. The puppy greeted him by sniffing his feet, his tail was wiggling. Not much of a guard dog, was it a German Shepard? The lights were out in the apartment, Jude made her way inside and flicked them on. She looked around and everything seemed as she left it. 'Ciao, si ciao' she spoke to the dog, who was clearly excited to see her, whining and stomping his paws. Simon tried to remember the words she said, so he could guess her native language. Spanish?

He looked around her living room and kitchen. Her house resembled her personality. There were books scattered on the coffee table, at least 5 of them, an empty mug as well. Books and papers on the sofa as well, maybe she was studying something? Black big reading glasses, with huge lenses. There were posters on the walls, art he didn't recognise. Nothing much on the shelves, minimal decor. A tall lamp in the corner of the room. He noticed a polaroid picture with someone with short hair. So you do have a boyfriend… Her kitchen was clean. It was a nice kitchen, she didn't have a table but two stools under a kitchen isle which probably served as a counter too. It was connected to the wall. Again, folders and scattered papers, maybe work. The dog bed on the floor. A lot of plants, he didn't think they were fake. An ashtray next to the window. Smoker? 'Can I check the other rooms?' he asked. To be respectful, you know. She nodded and he made his way to her bedroom. The door was closed. He glanced around the room, he checked the toilet as well. The bed wasn't made. She had light blue bedding. The room smelled like her, like lavender. She had a stuffed animal on the bed, a sheep. She had fuzzy slippers, probably a size 5. On the wall, more posters. He noticed a painting of a scary dog's fangs. Books on the nightstand, books on the wooden window sill. He saw a bra hanging from a chair and that was his cue to leave. In the toilet, one single toothbrush. So… no boyfriend?

'All clear'. She was standing beside the door, her dog at her feet was licking her hand while she petted him lazily. 'Thanks' she offered him a smile, a tiny one. She looked more relaxed. They stood looking at each other for a few seconds. Until he couldn't hold it in any longer. 'What happened last year?' He saw her expression darken, her shoulders tense. Who do you think you are to ask like that? She straightened her back and let go of the dog. He remained at her feet, wanting attention. 'You should learn to mind your business.' She made her way to the kitchen. She passed by him and didn't make eye contact. 'You should have some respect when you talk to people’ he answered. He didn't have time for this. He was fucking stupid to think he could speak with her, actually acting like a 10 year old. The dog came closer to him and sniffed his shoes. 'You know where the door is.' She turned around and faced the sink. He could feel a switch in her voice, in her attitude. It was Jude and then Her, her real self, whoever she was. It was two different people. The girl saw kindly smiling at Gaz in the car wasn't the same girl that barged in their briefing room demanding they listen to her. Or maybe it was, maybe that was Jude, and the scared, damaged little thing that he took home a year prior was Her. He didn't know who. Jude was Ghost and She was Simon. Something very bad had happened back then. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, he wasn't meant to know, no matter how much he tried. She raised a wall in between them. She made the weather right outside the apartment turn to when it's about to rain. Thunderstorms and lighting kind of rain. And it was probably better this way. He turned around without saying a word, only careful not to let the dog out.

She started breathing again when he left. Her mouth was dry, she was sweating. She called the dog and gave him food. She lit a cigarette and sat by the window. She called in the dance school, saying she had a fever. This way, she could stay inside all weekend. It took her forty minuted to stop shaking. Images from that day replayed in her mind at least once every three days now. She had gotten better, but that thingh wasn't really something you recover from. She sometimes woke up in the middle of the night sweating and crying, feeling the blade of the knife on her skin. She had dreams she had died. She wished she never woke up for a long time. She had dreams about the way he touched her. The first five months after it happened she would bite her nails till the cuticles bled and not shower for days. Her own hands on her skin felt like his. The first time she talked to another human being was when she visited Salvo in San Francisco. She looked like a corpse. He was speechless and hated her for letting herself go like this. It wasn't just the eating and over exercise, which he knew were her preferred coping mechanisms. She had lost interest in living, in speaking, in watching movies, reading. Her career… He held her every night, they slept intertwined in his room, he was the first man that actually showed her respect. He was the first man she touched after that day, she hugged him and rested her head on his chest while he reminded her she was loved, she was important to him, she was alive. He would caress her hair when she woke up sweating and was patient with her when she wouldn't eat. This time was different, she was going to be fine. Even if Salvo wasn't there. Arash would not find her, the memories from last year would leave her alone. She would make it once again.

notes. translation: 'Ciao, si, ciao.' means 'hi, yes, hi.'

notes: Salvatore, i want a friend like you, KING. I am back, I'm sorry for the delay I got surgery done to my teeth??? Anyways, enjoy!!!

taglist:

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

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

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

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

20 notes · View notes

victoryverse · 3 months

Text

simon can't get over the feel of how tight your cunt gets everytime he comes back from a mission. it's not been stretched in a while, your little fingers or toys are nothing in comparison to his fucking thick length.

"shit" he curses with every thrust, "how do you get so fucking tight every time? jesus christ. just squeezing me, aren't you?"

your mouth would be dropped open, pleasure and pain mixing together, your tight pussy opening up to take him in.

again and again, rough, full thrusts that make you run your nails down his back. he doesn't even react to the pain of that, too focused on opening you up for him.

"shit. gonna have to fuck this pretty cunt every day"

he smirks as he sees you gasp and writhe beneath him, too fucked out to reply.

"multiple times a day too, yeah?"

9K notes · View notes

hecateslore · 2 months

Text

💗🎀

papa!simon is on my mind, so ask about olderbf!simon and papa!simon cause my asks are open and I'm being super generous--okay bye!

“My boobs hurt,” You whine, rubbing them over the fabric of your t-shirt. Simon watches you from the dining chair, Sitting with your daughter, trying to get her to finish her food. You were making yourself a mineral water mocktail while Simon drank his beer.

“I’ll massage them later,” He offers, which comes out more like a statement. “Eat,” he points to his daughter's half empty plate. She shakes her head, “No tv.” He raises a brow, “Don’t,” you chuckle. “Go babe,” You say, grabbing her plate and letting her run off to do god knows what in the living room.

“She’s never gonna learn,” Simon sighs, watching his baby run around throwing her toys in the air, causing destruction. “That’s your fault.” you laugh. Simon gets up, clearing his plate, “I know,” he admits, rubbing your very swollen belly.

“They’re gonna be worse!” he dips down to peck your stomach, “I’m gonna go change.” He says stretching.

When he comes out to the living room, You on the couch and your Simon duplicate rolling around on the floor while her cartoons play in the background. “What are you doing, bug?” He gets on the floor also, laying on his back, letting his daughter roll around him, occasionally kicking his side or slapping him in the face accidentally.

You were on your phone not paying attention to the two on the floor, Until it got quiet, Your daughter sitting on Simon's stomach while he laid on the floor, both of them staring at the tv.

“You okay?” you say looking up from your phone.

Simon looks at you, “Tv.” he mumbles and gets right back to it. You tap him with your foot, “Since she’s down, get her pigtails out.” He nods, swatting your foot away from his shoulder.

He lifts her with so much ease, and takes the rubber bands from her out so easily and quickly, Playing with the warm honey curls that sit on top of her head, massaging her scalp a little.

Simon sat on the floor with his back on the couch and your guy's daughter between his legs, he played with her hair, her big brown eyes getting droopy with sleep.

“I need to give her a bath,” You whisper to Simon who was too invested in Mulan. “C’mon buggie, Bath and then we go to sleep.” You say reaching for her, She nods.

You bathe her, and get her under the covers in no less than 45 minutes.

Simon holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth just like he did when she was a newborn, “You sleepy buggie?” he mumbles to her, she nods her eyes closed and head on his shoulder, “Me too.” he sighs, placing his hand on top of her head, “Let’s make night-night.” He places her on her toddler bed, under five minutes she’s out, small snores leave her mouth.

You stand at the edge of your bed rubbing your big belly while you watch Simon kiss her cheek and tuck the cover around her for the millionth time.

RAHHHHH I NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOCCER TEAM----

#papa!Simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley cod #ghost mw2

5K notes · View notes

sweetnothingtm · 2 months

Text

♡ i imagine that Simon Riley is the type to spoil you rotten ♡

Simon doesn’t check his bank statements anymore - just hands you his card and plants a sloppy kiss on your smiling face.

Simon carries all your shopping bags without hesitation, even while you drain him of his worth. He scrolls his phone while you shop aimlessly, his eyes lazily dragging to your frame as you showcase what you want while he waves a hand at you.

yes - anything you want. yes - i mean it, sweetheart.

He follows you like a lost dog through the stores, practically begging for your attention as you wiggle your ass into a million different outfits.

I bet he takes you to all the lingerie stores. It’s his favorite part of the day, squeezed into a changing room as you strip in front of him. He always has a devious smirk, latching the stall lock into place as you hang up every scrap of fabric.

You’d twirl around in a tight lace, lip caught between your teeth as Simon palms himself through his jeans. He’d stare at you, eyes glowing with desire as you innocently checked yourself out and hummed.

do you like it? how do i look?

you look good enough to let me fuck you right now. matter of fact - bend over for me, sweetheart.

Simon would press you up against the mirror, dick pressed against your ass with his breath fanning against your neck. His teeth would graze against your skin, little whimpers coming from your lips as you roll your hips.

His fingers would press into your waist, digging into the silk panties with a price tag hanging off of them. $45 - damn expensive for a pair, but he considered you priceless.

When he inevitably ruins the fabric by cumming all over it, you’d have a little pout spread across your face. He’d roll his eyes, promising you another pair and splaying a hand against your ass while his camera clicks for a photo.

you look too fucking good, might just have to fuck you again when we’re home. you’d like that - wouldn’t you little slut?

Simon Riley would shrug his shoulders when the sales person would ask why theres panties in the trash. He’d swipe his card, hardly looking at the bill as he picked up another bag and watched you glow with happiness.

He always buys you dinner, opens every door for you, and slings his jacket around your shoulders. His hand always rests on your thigh when he drives, fingers tracing delicate shapes on your soft skin.

When he looks over to you, you’re already glowing with adoration and love - a twinkle in your eye as he squeezes your leg and hums.

did you like the gifts, princess? i spoil you huh?

6K notes · View notes

chaosandmarigolds · 15 days

Text

Yeah yeah- Simon’s big and protective and he’s scary but THIS MAN- ahem, this man’s love language is physical touch. Don’t ask me why. But it is

Simon! Who begs for kisses as soon as you’re the sanctuary of your home like a man starved

Who likes touching you but like in the most innocent way possible (and not depends on the mood) with a hand on your back, thighs, or his cheeks pressed against the spot inbetween your shoulder blades

Who loves kissing your joints- wrists, ankles and knees

Who! Does flinch when you try to kiss his neck and practically recoils from his but lord knows he loves giving neck kisses

Who! Stole your perfume and sprayed it on his coat whenever he’s deployed

Who! Doesn’t get checked up when he’s back from deployment cause he is going home and he going to eat good food, and he’s going to see you so therefore he does not care about the gash in his side that was quickly stitched up by the field medic (spoiler, you made him go get medical care)

Who! Listens to your heartbeat like a baby, head on chest, and he just listens…he said it was soothing

Who! Did almost tear up when you tried to leave him at a family get together of yours because your cousin was dragging you away and you told him to stay with the dads (separation anxiety, he’s a puppy I’m telling you)

Who! Is mean to everyone. Literally everyone but will then turn to you-

“I’m sorry-“

“Sorry ain’t fuckin cutting it, get it done or I’ll have your hide on my w-“….”Hi, luvie.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #ghost x you #cod x you #xfem!reader #call of duty x reader #ghost fanfiction #x fem!reader #coco's chaos <3

5K notes · View notes

cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 14 hours

Text

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze?

Ok so I wanted to start posting my Soulmates AU for Raindrop month, but writing for my Medieval one is going waay better than planned and it's confusing me to have 2 separate backstories in my head at once, so while I still have *checks calendar* 5 DAYS, here's a little stand-alone ficlet!

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze? A Midwest Emo Ghouls AU ficlet

Rating: T Content: fluff, literally that's it just fluff Words: 615

Lots of love to @alwaysjustmina for organizing this month again this year, I love any excuse to write about our soggy boys!! 🌦️🖤

hello @revengeghoulette, here is your summons as promised!! 🫡

Read below, or on AO3!

Haymaking season was coming to an end, and Swiss, Mountain and all the ghouls who pitched in to help were looking forward to a well-deserved break. To celebrate the end of the season, Swiss had built a maze out of hay bales for the children and kits of the town, as well as some of the more enthusiastic adults.

The whole community had come together to put on a party at the ghouls' farm. Mountain and his colleagues from the hardware store had built fairground games, Dew had dragged the church's speakers down on a trailer and was playing records Mist had brought from her shop. Aurora's cafe had a small pop-up, and Cirrus had brought a vat of apple cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, for the younger guests. Cumulus was in her element, her little face-painting stall attracting such a sizeable queue that Sunshine had jumped in to help out. Phantom was taking his new role as Youth Pastor – and more recently Sunday School teacher – very seriously, replacing her in supervising a very intense game of tag. While Mountain minded the hay maze, Swiss was giving rides on the haycart he had hitched to the back of his tractor, driving the children and kits up and down the field in the warm afternoon sunshine.

After closing time, once the families had gone home, the ghouls had the place to themselves without getting in the way of the fun of the younger members of the community. Rain and Dew were the last ones left inside the maze. Aurora and Mist had quickly disappeared somewhere together, Sunny, Cirrus and Cumulus were deep into their mission of finishing off the cider now that their responsibilities were over, the three of them covered in rainbow paint and body glitter.

Dewdrop and Rain walked hand in hand through the maze, quietly drinking in each other’s company in the balmy evening air. Making it to the centre of the maze they sat down on a bale, surrounded by golden walls on all sides as the amber glow of sunset spread across the sky. Dew leaned his head on Rain’s shoulder, utterly content in the moment.

“It’s beautiful.” Rain commented, as they watched the play of colours around them. “Just like you.”

Dew turned his face to bury it in Rain’s neck, bashful.

“You are, and I’m so proud of you, taking over from Aeth like you did. You’re doing such a great job, love! Look at how the town and harvest are flourishing. I’m honoured to call you my husband.”

Never one to take compliments well, Dew redirected Rain’s affections by capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The pair lost themselves in each other, the cooling temperatures went unnoticed past the warmth of their bodies, the slight prickliness of the hay nothing compared to the soft slide of their lips.

By the time they came up for air, Dew having squirmed his way into Rain’s lap, the sky was glowing a deep russet colour. From outside the maze, they could hear the sounds of the others packing up to leave.

“Alright lovebirds, time to come out or I’ll send the dogs in!” they heard Swiss call. The pair only giggled, Rain placing feather-light kisses across Dew’s cheekbones while he blushed the colour of the sky.

“You don’t have a dog!” Dew hollered back as he struggled to hold in his giggles.

“Hi Dewy.” deadpanned Mountain.

Eventually, Dew and Rain managed to find their way out of the maze, neither wanting to be found and carried out by the giant earth ghoul.

“Nice straw hat, Rain.” smirked Swiss, “although normally you weave it into itself, not directly into your hair!”

#I’m tweaking the timeline slightly to have Phantom in town closer to Dew’s element transition shhh!#raindrop month #raindrop april #raindrop #midwest emo ghouls au #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #em writes

20 notes · View notes

oceantornadoo · 19 days

Text

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

part one part two part three part four

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #fluff #tornadothoughts #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost imagine #ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod ghost

4K notes · View notes