#simon riley mw2

[soapybutt17]

The Ex and Why's

Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.

Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration

When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.

You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.

“Ms. Riley?”

You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.

Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.

“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.

“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”

You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.

“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.

“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”

“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.

All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.

All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.

He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.

“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”

You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.

“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.

“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.

For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.

You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.

“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.

“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”

You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.

“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.

“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.

“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.

When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.

“He was military too?”

“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.

“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”

“None taken, Captain.”

Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.

With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.

Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.

You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.

After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.

“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.

It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.

“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.

“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”

Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.

“Steamin Jesus.”

Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.

“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.

“English, MacTavish.”

“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.

“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”

Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.

“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.

“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.

“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.

“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.

Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.

As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.

But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.

���Looks like you’re right at home.”

You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.

“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.

“How are you holding up?” She inquired.

“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”

“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”

You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.

“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.

“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.

“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”

You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.

“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”

“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”

“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”

“Talk to who about?”

Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.

“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.

“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.

“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.

“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”

Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.

To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.

In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.

It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.

Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.

That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.

He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.

“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”

Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.

Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.

Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.

“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.

“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”

Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.

“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.

It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.

“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”

This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.

“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.

“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”

In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.

“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”

Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.

Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.

He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.

One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.

“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.

You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.

“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.

“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.

You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.

“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.

Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.

Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.

“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.

You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.

“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.

You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.

For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.

You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.

You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.

“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.

Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.

“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”

“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”

You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.

All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.

You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.

You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.

“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.

“Where’s the kitchen?”

You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.

You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?

In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of all the places you could work why the base?”

“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”

Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.

“You could have left?”

You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.

“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.

“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”

All you could do was nod.

“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”

“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”

“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”

“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”

“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.

“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”

“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?

“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”

“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”

“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”

“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”

“You want to know the truth?”

“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”

You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.

He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.

He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.

You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.

“Happy?”

“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.

“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”

It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.

He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.

“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”

“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.

The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.

It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.

Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.

After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.

You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.

“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.

With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.

“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.

“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.

“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.

One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.

“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”

You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.

“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.

“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.

“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.

“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.

“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”

“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”

“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.

“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.

You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.

“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”

You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.

“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.

It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.

Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.

“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.

You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.

“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”

“Always.” He nodded.

A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.

“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”

You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.

“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.

“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”

You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.

“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.

“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”

You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.

“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”

“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”

“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”

It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.

An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.

“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.

“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.

“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.

It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.

“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”

You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.

“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.

You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.

Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.

“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”

The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.

“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.

“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”

The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.

There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.

“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.

For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.

When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.

Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.

“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.

The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.

“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”

You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.

“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”

“Anything?”

You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.

“Simon?”

“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”

“What?”

“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.

“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.

“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”

“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.

He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.

“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.

“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”

“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”

“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.

You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #simon riley fanfiction #call of duty

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing Ghost on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing König on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

Simon tried to protect you from Ghost, he really did. It was not that Ghost would hurt you in any way, no. And of course, it was not a disease or mental disorder of any kind - it's a coping mechanism. But once the mask was on - Ghost appeared softly and silently. And Ghost could do things, that Simon couldn't. Things, he wouldn't ever want you to witness.

He never made a huge mystery of his work - he just didn't give away too many details. Simon didn't even hide his masks - he just asked you to not touch him, when he's wearing one of them.

"It's dusty, I wouldn't want your hands to get dirty." When in reality, he wouldn't want your entire being to get corrupted.

Ghost was to be kept out of your house and Simon made sure, you never saw each other. Little did he know, you had your ways not only around people, but around symbols as well.

His last day at home was coming to an end: in the morning he had to leave for a long deployment. Simon packed his things, leaving the mask atop of his open bag.

The rays of the setting sun painted the rooms with large windows in shades of red and gold. He absorbed every moment, breathed in and tried to remember barely distinguishable smells and sounds that filled your house, walked aimlessly through the rooms when he saw this. You sat on the edge of your bed, next to his bag, holding his mask in front of you. Your eyes were screwed shut as you pressed your forehead against the cracked, grayish surface of the mask. It was as if Ghost was kneeling in front of you, letting you touch his forehead with yours. Simon froze, part of him wanted to end this scene right there, but he hesitated, not wanting to scare you.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked deep into the empty holes in the mask. Your lips parted and you spoke almost inaudibly.

"Protect him and bring him back to me alive."

Simons' heart skipped a beat, when he understood, you were speaking not to him, but to the Ghost behind his mask.

And then, when he thought, this strange conversation was over - you brought the mask to your lips and kissed its forehead. Simon was standing in good 10–15 meters from you, but he could swear, he almost felt your soft and tender touch. Anything he ever knew, anything both he and Ghost were capable of, crumbled and slowly disappeared before your wish. Anything, that still kept meaning both to Simon and Ghost from this very moment, was that wish.

"Bring him back alive."

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley mw2 #cod simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine

[makyurini]

simon riley obsessed with casual affection but too proud to verbally admit it so he just sorta initiates it when you least expect it.

pulls you into his lap when you're trying to clean and he's tired of you paying attention to anything but him. “si, i need to—” “i don't care. stay.”

gently bumps his head against yours until you get the message to run your fingers through his hair. “didn't know you were such a softy,” you coo. “i am not a softy,” he snaps, but there's far more bark than bite and he looks far too content to be anything other than infatuated.

traces the fabric of your pants during quiet moments when you both are doing your own things without even realizing how soothing it is until you shift in your seat. pulls your leg back into his reach and resumes his ministrations, his eyes on whatever has his attention but his heart in your chest.

“don't,” he whispers in your ear when you shift away from him in the morning in order to start waking up, and it's so close to a whine you find your heart collapsing in on itself.

“don’t what?” you breathe, almost in disbelief to hear the glass in his voice. “you don’t want me to get up yet?”

“no.” there’s a tremble, a shaking of vocal chords that shows you more than any straying hands and greedy arms could ever. a fragile beat of caged hope that maybe, just maybe, he can keep you with him a little longer. “please. ‘m not ready.”

i’m not ready to go back to pretending like i don’t need you. i’m not ready to put on this charade of carefully constructed callousness so i can keep you safe from corrupted heroes and unstable futures. i’m not ready to slip the mask back into place and ignore the blood staining my hands. i’m not ready to watch you live your life while preparing to not be a part of it in the slim chance that we lose this war. i’m not ready to let you go, not yet, not while we’re both still vulnerable and shielded from the world.

“okay,” you mumble back as you tuck your legs against his. “i’ll stay.”

#♡.mine! #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #yes i converted an old piece of mine to fit simon #no you can’t stop me from doing it to more old pieces of mine

[keresnotceres]

Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

[bonkchai]

“Cheers, ya slag.”

#simon ghost riley mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #lieutenant ghost #mw2 #ghostmw2 #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #call of duty #simon riley mw2 #ghost

[xmalereader]

Simon Riley X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: Here is the first request! I did make a few adjustments to this shot and I hope you enjoy it! I tried to extend it and instead left it short :( but I hope you enjoy it!

Requested: Hi! I hope you have been doing well and not being to kich stressed<3 If you request are still open I was hoping you would take this one where Simon Riley introduces his boyfriend who is a total sunshine to the team after the boyfriend comes to visit him in secret to their fake base. The boyfriend is a normal civilian and the total opposite of Simon so it's weird seeing them as a couple(you can throw Alejandro and Rodolfo if it's okay with you)

Warnings: Fluff, relationship goals, grump x sunshine dynamic, black cat x golden retriever dynamic, reader is a florist, dark humor, Alejandro is a flirt, sweet moments, short, language, Spanish words, mentions of wedding, ghost is embarrassed, mentions of past trauma.

Word count: 1.7K

Tags: @nobodylivesson

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—

Simon wasn’t one to tell people about his past nor his personal life, keeping it hidden from his enemies and those closer to him. Throughout the years he had grown afraid of bringing someone into his life, even though he looked like a stoic and scary man when working in the military, deep down inside he showed that he cared for the people he worked with or lost during action.

After losing those he cared for he went back to being his stoic self, shouting demands at his own soldiers and killing his enemy in the most brutal ways imaginable. No one ever approached him unless out in the field or during a mission, but for a normal conversation he kept his distance around others until one unexpected mission he met him.

Y/n was the total opposite of Simon.

He met the man during one of his mission. He was a normal civilian with a normal life who owned a flower shop. Every time Simon saw him in the streets he shined brighter than the sun and always made his day better, knowing that he was safe. Simon didn’t know when these feelings towards the civilian started happening, but he can guess that it started when Simon was uncover, dressed out of his gear and without his mask, feeling so exposed and naked without it.

He was keeping an eye on his target and couldn’t draw any attention towards his way and had to get rid of his mask. He didn’t expect himself to bump into the ball of sunshine during his time out, watching as the other man carried a box of carnations and dripping on his own laces, before havoc occurred, Simon had stepped in without thinking and caught the man with one arm and with the other he caught the box of carnations.

Simon had come face to face with the florist that day and was received with a flower and a dinner date after the accident. Who wold have thought that the most serious man in the military would be dating someone much sweeter and brighter than him? Simon wasn’t suppose to get attached to him, but as dates and meets up occurred the poor man had fallen into the florists trap and couldn’t leave him alone without getting worried.

Both Simon and Y/n started dating after that until it bloomed into something serious.

The florist knew that Simon was busy with his own work and never questioned him and only told him to be safe and to comeback to him. Those simple words always encourage Simon to get through his mission in order to return back home to him.

It wasn’t until he was recruited into 141 a special forces team with much needed skills that could handle terrorists missions the dangerous stuff that no regular soldier would be able to handle. During his time with his new team he didn’t think he would grow attached to them to the point where he grew overprotective of them, they were his family.

He kept his relationship about Y/n very well hidden from the others and never left hints of him being in a relationship. Whenever Y/n sent him flowers he always left them somewhere out of base where they could either keep growing or for any small animals to claim, when he would send him letters, Simon would make sure to memorize his words before burning them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want his lovers gifts, no. It was because he was being safe, afraid that his enemy could get their hands on it and use it against him.

When Y/n first found out about the ways that Simon treated his gifts the florist was upset, thinking that the bigger man didn’t appreciate his gifts and was probably embarrassed by the things he wrote but, Simon had reassured the man that he did love his letters and was simply being safe. It didn’t take long for the two to fix the miscommunication and clearing things up.

Their relationship continued on for a year.

When Simon was stationed in a base in Mexico he figured he would be there longer than planned, eager to get back home to his lover, but controlling himself. They were staying in Alejandros base, going over some plans and reminding themselves what they are to do. After the events with Shepard and Graves the 141 team had grown close with Alejandro and his partner, helping them when its needed.

The good thing is that they had a few days off, getting a break from all the chaos and being able to relax for a bit. Some went off base to be with their families while others stayed behind, like Simon did. It was no use getting back home, flying out will take time and for him to only be with Y/n for a day or two and then to fly out again was torture. He’d rather spend those days either locked in his own room or practicing his combat with those who stayed behind.

What Simon didn’t expect was a knock on his door, alerting him of someone’s presence and to pull the door open and see Soap on the other side with a small grin on his face. Simon didn’t like the look on his face and narrows his eyes under his balaclava.

“What is it Johnny?” His voice is deep when asking as the Scottish mans grin widens.

“We’ve got a lad up front, claiming that he knows you.”

Simon raises a brow confused at first until Soap speaks up again.

“He brought flowers.”

Those words are enough for Simon to storm out of his room, brushing past Soap as he makes his way towards the front entrance of the base. Simon doesn’t want to overthink and believe that its Y/n because what would that man be doing out this far from home? It was dangerous and Simon could not have him wandering around the streets.

When Simon finally appears near the entrance his eyes immediately land on Y/n who stood patient while staring down at the flowers in hand as one of the soldiers stood by and watched, being cautious of him.

“Y/n?”

Simons voice gets the mans attention, lifting his head up and smiling widely.

“Si—Ghost!” Y/n quickly corrects himself, not wanting to give away Simons identity out in the open as he walks up to him and wraps his arm around his torso, smiling widely before standing on his toes to kiss his covered cheek. “Surprise?”

Simon chuckles. “A surprise indeed, why are you here?” He asks, hands touching Y/n’s shoulders and arms, wanting to make sure that he got here safe without any problems. The other didn’t bother batting Simons hands away and allows him to check him over. “I’m here on a flower delivery, this beautiful couple bought a big order and had to get it shipped here on time for their wedding and the couple were nice enough to let me stay for the ceremony.” He explains.

“You attend a wedding?”

“Mhm! I also stole the center piece.” Y/n gives off a mischievous grin as he held out the small case of flowers while Simon rolls his eyes. “Stealing your own flowers isn’t really stealing.”

Y/n pouts. “Don’t ruin my fun.” He mumbled out while handing Simon the small vase of flowers which gets the man chuckling a bit.

“Was that a laugh L.T?”

Simon’s smile quickly falters when hearing the familiar Scottish man who stood over his shoulder while looking at Y/n with a knowing smile. “Hello.” Y/n greets with a small wave at the other man.

“Who do we have here?”

Y/n smiles as he sticks his hand out for a shake. “I’m Y/n, Ghosts boyfriend.” He says proudly while shaking Soaps hand who stares in disbelief. “Boyfriend? Who would have thought that Ghostie knew what love is?” He was clearly teasing the man and Simon wasn’t amused by his jokes, but Y/n was.

“I know right? He may look scary in the outside but in the inside he’s a softie.” Said Y/n.

“Who’s a softy?”

Simon wanted to groan when Gaz approached them next a hand on his hip as his eyes dart from Simon to Y/n, before figuring out the situation and turns to Y/n with a charming smile. “Gaz, Ghost and Soaps teammate.” The florist chuckled at Gaz charm and shakes his hand too. “Y/n, Ghosts boyfriend.” He introduces himself.

Introductions continue on when they move further into base where the finally meet up with Price who possibly already knew about Simon’s relationship, but pretends like he didn’t know when greeting the young man. Everyone’s was still surprised to know that someone so happy and bright could be Simons lover.

Simon who was always brooding and cracking dark humorous jokes that not many of the others laughed about. Funny to say that Y/n laughed at a few of them which always made Simon smile.

“Well, well, a quien tenemos aquí?”

Alejandros smooth voice cuts into the crows, making his way through as the man eyes Y/n up and down before taking his hand into his own and kissing the top of his hand, earning a soft blush from Y/n who chuckled in a flustered manner. “I see we have a romantic one amongst everyone.” He gently pulls his hand away while Alejandro chuckles. “Rumor has spread that fantasma, here got himself un amante.”

Y/n raises his brows in shock. “Wow that fast, huh?” He laughs out, looking over his shoulder to Simon and playfully smacking his chest before focusing back to the others. “It was very nice to meet everyone, Simon talks highly of everyone.” Everyone on Simons team slowly looked at him with mischievous grins and smiles on their lips while Simon glared at them in return.

“You don’t say?” Says Soap. “Got any embarrassing stories of him?”

“OH! I do! There was this one time when we were in bed together—!” It wasn’t until Simon quickly covers his lovers mouth with his large hand, stopping him from going any further. “Time to go, love.” Simon orders while wrapping his arm around his waist and dragging him away.

Y/n groans, but doesn’t stop himself from waving the others goodbye. “Bye! Hope to see you all soon!” He shouts from across the base while the others waved in return, watching as Simon dragged his lover away from his men, glad that he’s wearing his balaclava in order to hide the embarrassing blush on his face.

#male reader #Simon Riley x male reader #Simon Riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x male reader #ghost #simon riley mw2 #golden retriever x black cat #grumpy and sunshine dynamic

[lethalchiralium]

If ur taking requests can we get something like Ghost still doesnt trust fxreader at all even when they are together for like 1/2 years and she gets all sad and starts distancing herself tyxxxx

No More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: guys. guys i mean it keep the requests coming i love them. also : captain reader? because girlboss??? it’s kinda shitty but i love messy. gives me better control of future chapters :)

CALLSIGN: Mercy

warnings: angst, cussing, realizations and sort of heartbreak.

summary: You’ve been with Ghost for a year and a half - you allowed him into things you kept safe guarded, and realized that he has never done the same for you.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

SERIES MASTERLIST

You thought he would grow out of it. He’s an adult; given, he’s a very fucked up soldier, but an adult that has done adult things. He’s a few years shy of being in his thirties, and he doesn’t even understand the basics of having a girlfriend. He doesn’t understand a lot of things, and even though you’ve explained to him more times than you can remember, he still didn’t understand you after a year and a half of being together. Sure, you are on the same squad, you leave separately on break but always end up in the same apartment. The apartment that had framed pictures of you, your family, your dog - yet it always feels like he doesn’t give you anything.

It’s been a year and a half and the only personal thing you got out of him was a story about his brother when they were younger. You had told him countless stories of you and your childhood best friend, your single dad who fostered and adopted you. You even told him about your childhood dog who got hit by a car when he was young and still lived to be 15, about the very short memories you had of your godfather before he passed. You had told him everything, you had put your full trust into him and he hadn’t even given thought into putting an ounce of trust into you.

You couldn’t help it when you started to close yourself off - a trauma response from those years in the orphanage, then the system. You took less and less patients, eventually getting confronted by your Lieutenant, “What is going on with you, Captain?” You had given them a half-assed answer, “Got a lot of papers to go through from Price. It won’t be a long time.” And you kept yourself locked in your office, looking over case files and possible missions you could go on to escape this. Escape the feeling that has been gnawing at your soul since the last time you left your apartment with him three months ago. The feeling of distrust, of emotional abandonment.

You didn’t stop your tears when they came every night after Ghost had visited, but you never cried in front of him. You figured that would give him more ammunition to keep you at arm’s length.

Your hand ran across the hefty manila folder, the other held onto your vest collar. You opened the folder.

It was a stupid decision, you knew that. He would never let you get out of his sight, let you be anywhere without his knowledge and approval. But you needed something different - you needed somewhere where you felt like you could breathe, with people you trust and have put trust into you.

Your dog, Cerberus, whined from your cot across the room. You’d been sleeping more in your office than your own room, you figured it was because you were mentally preparing to be out on the friend with your old squad, and definitely not because you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Ghost. He never let you move away from him in missions, never let you out of his sight when on them - it was suffocating, feeling like you were inadequate in a field you spent most of your life in because of the man you loved with everything you had. You gave him your all, your everything - he definitely made you feel that it would never be enough, without him even speaking a word.

Your eyes read over the mission again. Reconnaissance on a couple of enemy bases, a patrol of safe houses in the area to make sure they were still secure. That and to infiltrate a top secret base deep in the mountains to retrieve information on a possible illegal uranium enrichment plant being constructed. Your eyes darted back across the room to Cerberus, you whistled lowly. The German Shepherd leapt off your cot, scrambling to sit in between you and your desk, he plopped his heavy head on your lap. You smiled at him, scratching behind his ears. “Good boy, Cerby.”

Your team consisted of your good friends, Logan and Hesh Walker, as well as Keegan Russ. You remembered how threatened Ghost was with how close of friends you were with them, you had chose to follow him to 141 instead of stay in the comfort of the Ghost Crew. A choice you had regretted earlier, but not now. You felt a lot better equipped with such an intense task force, you have more medics than before and an actual base to stay in - that and Price seemed a lot more relaxed now that Hassan and Shepherd were no longer a problem.

Cerberus’s ears perked up and he darted out from under your desk as you heard thunderous footsteps coming towards your office.

“Lay down.” You ordered your dog, he looked back at you before he skittered back onto your bed. You stood, your seat wheeled backwards half a foot. It was only five more seconds before your office door slammed against the wall, Ghost stormed in and shoved it back into the frame with his foot. He held up a folder just likes yours before he growled loudly, “What the fuck is this?”

You closed your own folder, moving your hand from your vest collar and splaying your fingers on the cardstock. Your eyes stayed down on the folder stamped, “Classified.”

“You’re going on a mission with the Ghosts?”

Your eyes looked over some stamped patient files, taking them in your hand and opening a few to se did you had signed them.

“Price told me five minutes ago. You’ve known for how long?”

You closed the files and whistled lowly again, the clicking of claws against the concrete was heard as the massive search and rescue dog curled around the back of your legs. You didn’t even have to look to know that he had his hackles raised - when you were on guard, so was he.

Ghost marched forwards and slammed his folder down on your desk, his fist clenched as he growled, “Answer me.”

“A month.” You muttered, eyes staring at the folders in your hands before turning away. You’ve cried over him the night previous and the seven before that, must you face him?

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” His voice was gruff, appalled. “That’s reckless. And you told Price not to tell me? Really?”

“It was need to know.” You answered, placing the files back on your desk before you stepped around your dog to the head of your cot where your duffle sat open. He followed, keeping a distance of six feet from you because of Cerberus curling around your legs and staring at him. Your hands grew shaky as you began to double check everything in your bag.

“I tell you whenever I leave for any mission, any fuckin’ errand, and you don’t dare tell me about one of the most important ops we’ve had in months? Why are you going?”

“They need a medic, they requested me.”

He scoffed. “We need our medic.”

You slowed down, hand brushing over your beige t-shirts as you spoke, “You have my lieutenant, Gomez.”

“I want you here.” His voice softened a little, you shoved the clothes down farther in the bag, pulling out your spare medkit and opening it, eyes darting over its contents. “I only trust you to patch me up.”

You slammed your spare med-pack closed and back into your duffle. You quickly zipped it, sharply saying, “That’s funny, ‘cause you seem not to trust me any other time.” You turned to look at him, eyes brimmed with tears.

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You don’t trust me, Simon. You never let me take my lead when we’re on missions, let me be near you, let me talk with other people.” Your arms crossed over your chest, tears slicing hot on your skin. “You don’t trust me. do you even want to be in this relationship?” Your hand went up and quickly wiped away your tears. “Because it certainly feels like you don’t.”

He stood there, stunned - his hands at his side, he had no idea what to do with them. “Of course I do.” He took a step forward, cautiously placing his right hand out. “Of course I trust you.”

You backed away then, your calves bumped into Cerberus, your hand reached down to touch his head - an attempt to calm yourself. “Then why can’t you put a little faith in me? A little faith that you are the one I go to sleep thinking about? That you are the one I worry about when I’m out on the field, instead of my own safety? That I wouldn’t ever do this to you?” Tears fall rapidly, your heart beat roughly in your chest - anxiety was gripping your diaphragm. “I trust you with my life, Simon. I have since we got together. It’s been almost a year and a half and you still don’t even trust me to have your back.”

He just stands there, arms at his side - his eyes stared at you, dark and full of pain. “I do. I do trust you, Y/N.”

You threw your duffle on your back and walked towards him - shoving a finger into his chest, looking up at him. “You have this whole mission to think about this, about us. Because I can’t be trusting you blindly when you don’t even trust me to breathe.”

You moved around him, whistling for Cerberus. The dog swiftly followed you out of the office, and you slammed the door behind you. You swiftly walked down the corridor, and as soon as you turned the corner, your back hit the wall. Your hand flew up to your mouth, pressing into it to muffle the loud sobs that fell from your throat. Cerberus pawed at your leg before pressing his head to it.

____________________

part 2 here!

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley request #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

[hina-hina]

Would you do Ghost agreeing to get a dog “just for protection” and at first refusing to spoil the dog but caving and allowing his partner to put sweaters on it and let it sleep in the bed (despite grumbling about it)?

Hello friend!! This was so cute of a request, especially because I headcanon that Ghost is a dog person ♪(^∇^*) Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!!

|| Ghost Buying a Guard Dog and Reader Spoiling It ||

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

This one kinda goes in hand with my headcanon from yesterday

So, he is super protective and hates leaving you alone because he fears something might happen to you while he is at work

So, he gets a guard dog

A 100% purebred German Shepherd

Lowkey because the dog reminds him of Riley

He purchases the dog already trained to protect you and teaches you all the proper commands

But your only half paying attention bc omg puppy

Your immediately researching the best meals for his breed and the best toys on the market

And while your ordering his special treats and toys, you happen to see a sweater that says "mama's boy" in his size

And it immediately goes into your cart

Without Simon's knowledge, of course

So, when he goes on deployment he feels a little better leaving because he knows you'll be protected

So, when he comes back and he sees that the fearsome guard dog he had bought you was now wearing a sweater that said "mama's boy" he is bewildered

He goes about scolding you but your only defense is over-the-top pouts and "he's so cute though!!"

When the two of you go to bed that night and the dog jumps into bed with you, Ghost goes to scold him and set him off the bed

But you wrap your arms around the dog and claim that he always sleeps in the bed while he is gone

Ghost is exasperated

He, very reluctantly, allows the dog to sleep in the bed and grimaces to himself when it shoves its way between the two of you on the bed

He furiously denies cuddling into the dog in the morning

You took a picture of it and hold it as blackmail

However, have no doubt that the dog is still (if not more) protective of you and willing to fight tooth and nail for you

When you tell Ghost about how this guy had started getting too pushy with you while you were out walking him

The dog immediately started growling and pushing itself between you and the man until he backed off

This resulted in Ghost slipping him a bit of table scraps, a pat on the nose, and a "Good dog."

Thanks for reading!!

#ghost imagine #cod mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 imagine #cod headcanons #cod imagine #cod ghost #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty

[bingoboingobongo]

in his eyes

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: explicit language, slight Gaz x Reader, i wrote the first draft w/o my glasses in the dark while listening to airplane sounds so forgive any typos

A/N: nothing is more humbling than hungrily fishing for pickles with chopsticks. also yes i wrote this instead of part three of awuass. anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated, enjoyyy :)

“Soap! Wait up, man,” Soap heard from behind him. He stopped walking and turned to see Gaz chasing behind him.

“You need something, mate?” Soap asked, confused. It wasn’t that he and Gaz weren’t close or anything — they were — but he had never seen Gaz so desperate to talk to him. He waited for Gaz to arrive, shooting him a concerned look when he had to stop and catch his breath, which Gaz just waved off. “Where were you coming from that’s got you all out of breath like this?” he asked.

“The training room,” Gaz said, taking another deep breath. “I sprinted here just to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Soap was confused, he couldn’t think of a situation that was urgent enough for Gaz to come chasing after him, but not urgent enough for Price or one of the higher-ups to find him.

“You know Stick?” Gaz asked, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards. Soap was even more confused, of course he knew. You were Stick. You had gotten the nickname after you kept asking the guys to look for chapstick while they were on missions. Apparently you had lost the one you packed when you first arrived on base, and since then you had always been on the lookout for it. Soap had been the first one to call you it, although he called you Chapstick at first. Somewhere down the line though, it had been shortened to Stick and no one really questioned it.

“Yeah, what about her?” Soap asked.

“I just saw her and the lieutenant down at the training room, they were sparring together.”

“You mean Ghost?

Gaz nodded, which only left Soap more confused. Perhaps it was a little odd for you to be sparring with the lieutenant, given the general height and size disparity, but it wasn’t completely out of the question, and certainly not important enough to warrant such an extreme reaction from Gaz.

“Is that it? They were training together?”

“Of course not,” Gaz said, as if it were obvious, “I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between them. He was acting so weird around her, I’m telling you.”

Soap’s interest was piqued. “You mean you think they’re hooking up?”

“I don’t know about hooking up but there’s definitely something there, you can tell just looking at them.”

Soap hummed. You and Ghost, huh? On the surface, it wasn’t an absurd conclusion for Gaz to come to, the two of you did hang out together a lot, which held a lot of weight considering the kind of man Ghost was. But thinking about Ghost blushing over some school-boy crush on a girl just seemed insane. He was a 6’4 killing machine with more deaths under his belt than Soap could count; Soap just couldn’t see it.

“You’re reading into things, pal,” he said, punching Gaz lightly on the shoulder, “you really think Ghost’s got a crush on Stick?”

Gaz rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you man, there’s something there, for real. He was like a whole different person today while they were sparring. I swear to God he looked at her like she was the bloody Queen of England.”

“You think Ghost’s in love with the Queen of England?” Soap asked, smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Gaz said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s something there, I’m pretty sure I saw him smile at her for a moment.”

“He took off his mask?” Soap asked, surprised.

“Of course not, you idiot.”

“Then how could you see if he smiled, genius?”

“I saw his mask shift.”

“You saw his mask— Are you messing with me?”

“Oh fuck you, Soap. You know what I mean. It was in his eyes too, like, he looked at her like he was in love.”

Soap snorted, that idea was even more insane than Ghost blushing. “Alright, good one, Gaz. You got me.”

Gaz sighed, “I’m serious mate, I swear. Tonight, at dinner, I’ll show you. Just watch him, see how he looks at her, there’s no way he doesn’t like her.”

Soap rolled his eyes and began to walk away, “Whatever you say, Gaz,” he said nonchalantly. But despite his incredulous behavior, he couldn’t help but wonder if Gaz had a point. He did see Ghost hanging around you a lot, but he had assumed it was just coincidence until now. That being said, coincidences didn’t just happen over and over and over again.

That night, he decided to take Gaz up on his offer. He went to stop by his room before dinner, but before he could say anything Gaz shushed him. 

“Get in, quick. Ghost’s gonna be coming down the hallway any second now,” Gaz explained in a whisper as he tugged Soap into his room.

“You're stalking the lieutenant now, Gaz?” Soap asked.

“Oh piss off,” he said, “he always stops by her room around seven, and then they walk to dinner together. It’s been happening for about a week now.”

“So why’re you only telling me now?”

“Because I figured he was just reminding her of dinner or something. But after today,” he clicked his tongue, “no, there’s definitely something more there.”

Soap watched as Gaz creaked open the door ever so slightly, positioning himself so that he could just barely see out of it. Low and behold, Gaz was right. He heard Ghost walking down the hall before he saw him, but then he was there, just a few feet diagonal from them, knocking at your door.

He watched as you opened it, and said something he couldn’t hear, before closing it again. Ghost stayed outside of your door, leaning his weight against it as he stared down the hallway.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Soap asked. 

Gaz didn't answer, instead choosing to motion wildly at Soap as a signal for him to be quiet.

A few more minutes passed before you opened the door again. You looked surprised to see him there, but your surprise quickly morphed into a smile and the two of you left Soap’s line of sight. Gaz kept watching for a while longer, before shutting the door.

“See that?” Gaz asked.

“Did you hear what they said?” Soap repeated.

“He said something about dinner, and then she said she had to finish something up. I think it was a TV show or something. And then when she opened up the door she asked what he was doing there and that he didn’t need to wait for her.”

“Did he say anything in response?”

Gaz sighed, “I don’t know. I swear I heard him say he was happy to or something along those lines, but his voice is so damn low and his accent doesn’t help.”

Soap nodded slowly, “So he’s been doing this every day for a week now?”

Gaz nodded, “Usually he doesn’t have to wait for her though. They just go straight to dinner.”

Soap paused, staring at the ground for a moment, “Should we follow them? See if we can catch them doing something else?”

Gaz stared at him for a moment, his face thoughtful. “I’ll do you one better, Soap. How about you go up there and pretend to hit on her, eh? And then see how Ghost looks, I swear he’ll probably beat you up.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Soap asked.

“Because I’m not trying to get on Ghost’s bad side.”

“Well, neither am I,” Soap cried.

Gaz sighed, “Fine, I’ll do it. But you owe me for this. And you have to watch Ghost’s face. I’m not about to put my life in danger for nothing.”

Soap nodded, and the two of them made their way out into the hallway. You and Ghost had already exited, but it wasn’t hard to catch up. Gaz motioned for Soap to be quiet, and he watched as Gaz crept up behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump up in surprise.

He watched Ghost turn and glare at Gaz, and he could swear he could feel Ghost’s glower from a mile away. Soap ran to catch up to the three of you, just in time to hear you jokingly berate Gaz for scaring you.

“I swear to god, Kyle, if you didn’t have such a pretty face I would slap you right now,” you said, jokingly raising your fist at him. Soap immediately turned to look at Ghost, who’s eyes looked like they could probably kill. Soap took the chance to run ahead of you three, facing you guys as you walked down the hall together.

“Woah there, Stick,” Soap said, placing his hands out in front of him in fake concern, “we can’t have you threatening Gaz here, can we? I’d have to snitch on you to Price for that.”

“Oh screw you, Soap,” you said, laughing. Soap didn’t miss the way Gaz had managed to wedge himself in between you and Ghost, and he also didn’t miss the murderous glare Ghost was shooting towards Gaz.

“You guys going to dinner?” Soap asked, eyeing Gaz warily as he not-so-subtly put an arm around your shoulder.

“What is this? What are you doing, Gaz?” you snorted, holding up the hand that was wrapped around your shoulder.

Gaz opened his mouth to answer, but Ghost beat him to the chase. “She’s right, sergeant,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Get your hands off her, just because we’re off duty doesn’t mean you can just forget about the rules.”

Gaz clicked his tongue and nodded, slowly snaking his hand off of you. Soap didn’t miss the told-you-so look Gaz shot him as they made eye contact. 

You laughed again, “It’s alright, Ghost, he was just playing around. It's all in good fun, right Gaz?”

“You know it, Stick.”

Ghost’s eyes flickered between you and Gaz. Gaz had been right, Ghost was different when you were involved. Before, reading Ghost had been harder than reading a text in a different language, but now he was an open book. Soap could see every emotion behind Ghost’s eyes, anger, annoyance, betrayal?

“Besides,” you said, looking at Ghost, “you’re still my favorite.”

And there it was. The ‘something’ Gaz wouldn’t stop talking about. Love, with an undertone of adoration and maybe a hint of disbelief. Soap was shocked. There really was something between you and the lieutenant.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” Soap said, curious to see how Ghost would respond. He acted how he thought he would, his eyes snapping off of you and onto Soap, and maybe, just maybe Soap could see the slightest hint of blush on the edge of his exposed skin at being caught. “Are you guys going to dinner or not?”

You turned to look at him, a bright smile on your face as you nodded. “You?”

“Of course,” Soap said, “you guys sitting with us still?”

He watched as you turned to look at Ghost, who also turned to look at you. Somehow, the two of you managed to exchange some sort of silent conversation, because when you looked back you gave him a sheepish smile and said, “We’ll see.”

Soap watched you carefully, “Right then," he said, “come on Gaz, let’s go while the food’s still warm.”

He pulled Gaz out from between the two of you and the pair headed towards the dining hall, moving as fast as possible to try and get far enough away that they could talk about what had just happened.

“God, I guess you were right, Gaz,” Soap said, as they entered the hall.

Gaz clicked his tongue, “I told you so. I guess all it took was me risking my life to convince you.”

Soap chuckled, “You were gutsy back there, you know? God, if you saw the way he was looking at you? You better be glad he wasn’t armed or he probably would’ve shot you right then and there.”

Gaz snorted, “Oh I saw how he was looking at me, scared the shit out of me too. You know, they should give me a medal for that level of bravery.”

“I'll say.”

He followed Gaz as they went to go get a plate of food, before finding a table near the center of the room to sit down at. “You think they’ll come eat with us?” Gaz asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? They always eat with us,” Soap said.

Gaz hummed, “Could you see how stiff he got when I was standing in between them?” 

Soap laughed again, “Of course, I did. And when he yelled at you for putting your arm around her?”

Gaz snorted, picking at the food on his plate, “Oh god, you don’t know how fast my heart was racing when I did that. I was preparing my last will and testament and everything.”

Soap doubled over in laughter, but stopped quickly when Gaz tapped his shoulder repeatedly and hurriedly whispered for him to be quiet. He looked up, his eyes swiveling around before they landed on you and Ghost. He watched as you made eye contact with him; he let out a wave which you returned before moving towards the food. As always, Ghost was right behind you, but Soap could’ve sworn he was following a little more closely than usual.

“Is it just me or is he standing really close to her?” he asked Gaz, lowering his voice so they couldn’t be heard over the dining hall chatter.

Gaz shook his head as he pretended to toy with his food, “No, he’s definitely closer. Look at them, they’re practically touching hips.”

Soap watched out of the corner of his eye as you two finished getting your food. He saw you look over at Ghost and then nod your head in their direction, before you rolled your eyes with a smirk and went to follow Ghost to a small table in the opposite corner of the room.

“Did you see that?” Soap asked Gaz, his eyes flicking between him and you.

“I did, now stop staring before you get us all in trouble,” Gaz said, keeping his eyes focused on his plate. 

“Why do you think they’re sitting alone?” Soap asked.

“Why do you think? Ghost probably thinks I actually fancy Stick and now he’s trying to keep her away so she’ll pick him.”

Soap hummed thoughtfully, “I think you’ve actually got a point there, Gaz.”

“Damn right I do.”

“Do you actually though?” Soap asked.

“Do I what? Have a point?”

“No, do you actually fancy Stick?”

Gaz stopped to think as he took a bite of his food, “I mean,” he said, swallowing. “She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I’d probably try and at least ask her out under different circumstances—”

“But?”

“But if there's something going on between her and L.T. I’m not going to be the idiot that tries to get between them.”

“Really?” Soap asked, “what if there’s nothing actually between them?”

Gaz snorted, “Are you serious mate? After all this? I risked my life just to prove it to you and you’re still doubting me?” He shook his head. “There’s definitely something going on between them, get your head out of your ass. And — and maybe this is a controversial opinion — but I would like to return to my family when this is all done. I don’t have a death wish.”

Soap chuckled, tilting his head in agreement.

“Besides,” he said, gesturing for Soap to look at them again. He did, and through the mess of heads he could see Ghost cut off a piece of his food and feed it to you, a strangely domestic scene that went against everything he thought he knew about the cold lieutenant. “They’re kind of made for each other, eh?”

“Who’s made for each other?” asked Price, sitting down next to them with a groan.

“Sir,” Gaz said, stiffening, “didn’t realize you were listening.”

“It’s my job to listen, Garrick. Now answer the question.”

Gaz sighed, nodding his head towards your direction.

Price let out a sigh. “So you guys finally caught on, eh?”

“You knew about this?” Soap asked, turning to face Price.

“It’s not hard to notice.”

“Are they…” Soap paused, nodding his head suggestively.

“What? Dating?” Price asked.

“Sure.”

“Now that, I don’t know. I don’t think so though.”

“Do you think she likes him?” Gaz asked.

Price clicked his tongue, “Most likely.”

“Do you think he likes her?” Gaz asked.

“Most definitely,” Price said, snorting.

“Do you think he knows she likes him?” Soap asked.

Price chuckled, “MacTavish, I don’t think he even knows that he likes her.”

That comment earned a round of laughs from the three of them. But despite Price changing the topic, Soap couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you and Ghost. It was such a strange scene to see, you and him tucked away in a private table in your own little corner. He watched the way your eyes crinkled with laughter as you spoke; the way Ghost would interrupt you every so often with a piece of neatly cut food on his fork for you to eat it.

He could practically see the adoration oozing out of Ghost every time you rolled your eyes and took a bite; the way you practically stared at him with hearts in your eyes whenever he would ever so slightly lift his mask to take a bite of food. And for a moment, just for a moment, he swore he saw the corner of Ghost’s mouth twitch into a smile at something you said before he lowered his mask again. But even with his mouth covered, Soap realized Gaz had been right once more. Soap could see the smile in Ghost’s eyes. Soap could see everything in Ghost’s eyes, every single drop of love and reverence and adoration he had for you.

#bingoboingobongo.com #ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost modern warfare 2 #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #ghost drabble #ghost angst #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2 #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish

[shinyscollection]

Just Ghost Thoughts #1

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

Content warnings: smut. P in V. Unprotected sex (u wanna get between her thighs? Condomize!). Creampie, mutual orgasm, praise, literally the tiniest bit of begging. Authors notes: I’m so sick and tired of the simon riley fucks hard agenda, so here’s a few soft!lover Simon for y’all.

Simon had always thought he liked rougher sex. Seeing his partner completely at his mercy as he relentlessly pounds into them, ripping orgasm after orgasm from their shaking forms. To him, that's what sex was. Fast. Hard.

But then he met you.

"My pretty baby." His voice was soft, soothing as he murmurs against the soft skin of your neck, the vibrations ticlking the sensitive skin. Your soft sigh of contentment sounded like heaven in his ears. He was so content, so happy to lie like this. hovering over you, feeling your hands card through his locks as he leaves a trail of marks and lovebites along your neck. If it wasn't for the way your hips were bucking slowly, your cunt clenching around him with each breath.

"Please,"

Your voice was heaven. So soft, so small, shaky between moans and sighs of pleasure. Slowly, he brings his hands up to cup your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your parted lips. There was no urgency, nothing being demanded. It was as if he just wished to memorise the feeling of your lips.

“What do you need, baby?”

He asks, murmuring against your lips. He knew what you wanted; the way you were clenching around him was more than enough of an indication. But he needed to hear it. He needed to hear your soft voice speak those words. And you did.

“Need you,” you whine, and simon could have sworn he found heaven. You were so perfect, so pretty.

He slides out of you, almost completely, before pushing himself back in, and your response is immediate, letting out a soft whine as you head falls back, thighs trembling. He sets a rhythm of slow, deliberate thrusts, basking in the feeling of your walls around him.

"So good for me," he coos, eliciting a soft whine from you, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, his fingers gripping your thigh, keeping it hoisted around his hip, allowing him to hit that spot deep inside you.

"Si- please..."

"Shhh," he soothes, kissing your lips, those pretty lips, already puffy and swollen. You looked like an angel, his angel, so pretty and perfect for him. "Just relax, yeah?" His hips rolled against yours, pelvis brushing your clit each time, each thrust bringing you closer to that edge, and he feels the way you tense around him, his cock twitching, feeling his orgasm building, and he groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "Gonna come for me? Hm?"

He coos, hand dropping between your thighs, rubbing soft circles on your clit, guiding you to your peak

"Go ahead, baby, 'm right there with you." He murmurs, head falling into the crook of your neck as he feels your cunt clench around him, the both of you toppling over the edge, his hips stilling, grinding against you as he kisses over your face, moaning softly, lost in the feeling of your walls clenching around him, squeezing him so perfectly.

"Good girl, my girl, yeah?"

reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

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

[soapybutt17]

im cooking something...

#call of duty #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley mw2 #simon riley angst #4k in and im not even halfway done with this #writing preview

[nrdmssgs]

You're in good hands, love

Masterlist

Ok guys, I'm off to vacation and you get a sketch. Leaving you in good hands ;) Please don't behave!

#cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod mv2 #cod fanart #fanart #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanart #cod ghost #call of duty mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost simon riley #mw2 #simon riley mw2 #ghost cod mwii #ghost cod mw2

[toshidou]

i sent this to cas but had to share it with the class <33

könig/ghost x afab!reader

tags // NSFW 18+, this was written with both of our favourite masked men in mind, so pick whoever you want, pussy eating, overstimulation, somnophilia, first time munchers könig and ghost <3

now, bear with me here. what if, because of the respective masks, they had never had the opportunity to eat someone out, preferring to stick to impersonal one off encounters that involve as little clothing removed as possible. until you.

when they finally get to a point where they feel comfortable enough to reveal themselves, to show you the barest bones of themselves, do they realise the new opportunity presented to them in the form of your spread legs.

it would start off hesitant, unsure, a little anxious to be so exposed along with the pressure of making you feel good despite being in completely unfamiliar territory. and yet, as soon as their lips make contact with your cunt, it's game over. frenzied is the only word that comes close to summarising it, devouring you like a man starved, as though the apex of your thighs were an oasis amidst a barren desert. he doesn't even notice the first time you cum against his tongue, nor the second.

It's only when he feels your thighs go limp around his head does he finally resurface for air, only to realise you've passed out, overstimulation leaving your unconscious body twitching. and he knows he should stop, should check on you, but your glistening cunt steals his attention away, and just like that, he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. Hours would pass by, brief moments of lucidity pulling you back to the surface to babble garbled words into your hand before you're out once again, left at the whim of the man between your legs.

#☁︎⋅writing #☁︎⋅debauchery #yeah #i don't have much to add other than i'm sorry #and also your welcome? #maybe? #WKDKSKMD #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #könig x reader #könig x you #konig #konig smut #könig smut

[babygirl-riley]

Hiiiiii sorry to bother- but i'm OBESSED with dad!Simon. have you seen those tiktoks of dad's crying while their baby girls get ear piercings? They look more in pain than the kid themselves?? I'd like to ask for a short drabble please!! ❤️❤️😩

Silent Treatment

Simon and your baby girl are shunning you after getting her ears pierced

A/N: ANON ANOOOON! Those tik toks make me laugh because it’s like damnnn those dads wanna fight mom soooo bad. 😭 But yes yes I love this idea!

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

You felt bad truly, you stood in the door frame as Simon didn’t look at you. Same with your infant daughter. “Si, we talked about it.”

Simon shook his head. “Doesn’ matter, she was in pain. Almost took the bitch’s head off,” Your daughter clanged to her father as she sighed into his shoulder. “We are not happy about it, aren’ we princess.” Simon said whispering to Millie.

You chuckled low before sighing. “Simon she is fine now. She isn’t even crying.”

“Her ears say oth’r wise.” He commented looking at her subsiding red ears.

You smirked as you saw Simon smirk, he was milking it now. You glared at him still smirking as you fold your arms. “You can’t gate-keep her forever you know.”

Simon’s smile grew bigger as he looked at Millie than you. “You try to take her for me and see who’s gate keepin’ who.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling. He was right, she was the one clinging onto him without any hesitation. When you tried to get her out of her car seat she screamed for her daddy. You really pissed her off, you knew she was daddy’s girl but never has she refused you getting her out.

Millie looked over her shoulder and her head was still laying on his shoulder. Her brown eyes looking right through your soul. You could feel the anger on the toddler. God how much both Millie and Simon were alike, even in her toddler years. That look that she was baring into your soul was the same look that her father gave the lady that pierced her ears.

“Okay dad you can go on the other side so I can just snap one on,” The lady said pulling out the piecing gun. Your mom did it to you when you were younger, easier to do it when they won’t remember it. Raise your daughter to have a routine of having earrings. Millie looked up at you as you sat her on your lap. She was confused, first having a stranger holding her ear and mom letting the stranger holding her ear. The lady smiled up at you. “You ready?”

Simon looked over at her. “It won’t hurt her too bad yeah?” You swore he was more nervous than how Millie looking on your lap.

You smiled holding her closer. “She will cry Simon but it shouldn’t hurt too much. It will feel like a pinch.”

Oh how wrong you were, once the piercing went in she screamed. Simon snapped his head up to the lady before giving her a death stare, as he moved over to the side to see her ear red. Millie kicked and tried to pull you off of her. You watched as Simon’s hands clenched into fists. “One more! I know baby.” The lady said walking over to the other side cautiously.

You saw Simon watch carefully as the lady lined up the piercing. You swore you saw fire in his eyes but also pain. You haven’t seen Simon express that emotion in years, it made your heart hurt to see him in pain as well. Millie started to lift herself as she reached for Simon. Simon tapped his foot waiting for the session to just end.

You tried to grab her hand to soothe her but instead she batted away. She tried to reach for Simon once again as you held her still. You looked over to see tears in his eyes, which made your heart drop. “Simon,” You soothed. “She is okay.”

Simon snapped his head to you. “She doesn’ look okay to me.” You frowned as he looked back to Millie as you petting her head until the lady got her gun in place of her earlobe.

After the last snap, Millie screamed again, having her arms raised to Simon. It was like flash of lightning when Simon was right in front of you. Simon grabbed her immediately, bounced her up and down. Shushing her, soothing her, rubbing her back.

Simon left the store immediately, leaving you in the dust. You sighed as you handed the money to the lady. “Don’t worry all husbands do that with their babies. The good ones at that.” The lady whispered to you. “Some of them actually shed tears.”

You smiled and thanked her, however she was wrong about him not shedding a tear. You knew why he stormed out with her, you saw the single tear leaving his eye when he snatched her.

You paid the lady and thanked her as you watched Simon hold Millie closer. Both of them gave you the silent treatment, like you did the piercing. You rolled your eyes as you tried to hold Millie but she refused you as she clanged onto Simon all the way to the car.

After getting out of the car he went straight to her room as he rocked her. Holding her. Soothing her. You followed him into the doorway, as you listened to him mumble sweet things to her. It wasn’t until then he started to speak to you.

“I’m not mad at ya,” He said sighing. “Didn’ like my babygirl cryin’ like that.” His voice lowered even more as he rubbed her back on soothing motions. Holding her even closer than he already had her before.

You nodded. “I know you don’t. I am sorry you felt that way. My heart hurt too, I didn’t expect her to scream cry,” You fell silent as you watched Millie turn to cuddle more close to his neck. Gripping his shirt. You chuckled having Simon start to smile looking at you. “I think you scared the lady as well.”

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Good she hurt Mills, should have just stared at her the whole time to have her stop.”

You chuckled coming in more, Millie watched as you walked up to her and Simon. “Then she would only have one earring.”

Simon followed with his eyes as you stood in front of him. His eyes softening as he chuckled. “That’s the new thing isn’t it?”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes as you giggled. “I’m sorry baby,” You whispered kneeling down, rubbing the top of her ear. “Think you will be the only one to have pierced ears if we get you a sibling.”

She cooed as you leaned up to kiss her forehead. She laid back into his chest. It was quiet for a moment before you stood up. “Damn right.” Simon mumbled, smirking down at you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost #simon ghost x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley mw2

[lethalchiralium]

Twice A Question, Once An Answer | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: YOU THINK YOU CAN KEEP ME FROM MY STREAM OF SEROTONIN? ABSOLUTELY NOT. THIS MAN DESERVES LOVE AND A FAMILY AND A LOVING FAMILY. this was also just an entire dialogue i wrote when i got home from work at 3:30am

connected to tonight, tonight, tonight and a little more!

warnings: talks about babies, talks about simon’s past, domesticity cause simon deserves it, mentions of nudity

summary: Two times you asked your husband a question, and the one time he had the answer you needed.

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“Thought about having a boy?”

Simon’s eyes had just closed, sleep calling him like a siren. His arm was rested over his eyes. “Mmm.”

“Have you thought about having a boy?” You asked again, voice quiet as you stared at the ceiling in the dark.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Your head moved to look to the left, to look at him. “Not even once? Even if we try again?”

He sighed a little, his other hand coming to scratch his neck. “I make girls, love. I’m two for two right now, not sure if I would be okay with losing my winning streak.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at his silhouette, almost wanting to reach out and touch his arm. “So you only want girls?”

“No.”

“Then you want a boy?”

“No.”

You scoffed, moving to rest yourself up on your elbows. “Well Jesus, Simon, which one is it? Boys or girls?”

He moved his arm down to his side, moving to lay on his side to face you. “I want healthy babies. Want ‘em to live happy and long lives. And I want whatever you want.”

“Simon, I’m asking your opinion.” Your hand reached out and rested on his chest, your fingertips grazing above his heartbeat.

“Yeah, and I gave it to ya. Whatever you want is fine by me.”

“You only wanted Winnie. Just Winnie.”

His hand settled on yours, thumb gliding across the back of your hand. “If I knew about Mellie when she was in your belly, trust me, I would have wanted her too.” His other hand came to rest on your bare lower stomach, fingers tracing your stretch marks. “I want you to be happy with however many babies you want.”

“So you’d be okay with twelve?” A giggle left your lips.

He grunted. “Now you’re pullin’ my leg.”

You snaked one of your legs in between his, moving to your side and now feeling his breath on your skin. “Simon, do you want a boy?” You leaned forwards and pressed your lips to his collarbone, then rested your forehead against it. “Would you be okay with a boy?”

The hand on your stomach traced your skin to your side, fingers massaging the marks he had left only an hour before. “…He’ll be loved all the same as his sisters. Just don’t be pregnant right now.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I just realized I never asked what you wanted kid-wise.” You cleared your throat. “I wanted two girls and two boys when I was a kid, but now, I just want this. I want us, and however many babies come next. But I want to know when we should stop. You need to be comfortable with it too.”

You felt his lips against your head. “…Just the girls for now. Ask me again when Mellie starts to talk back.”

“Which, at this rate, will be next week.”

Your husband chuckled a little. “Good, she’ll need to so she can bully Soap for me.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Well? I can’t do it forever - Lord knows that Soap will cockroach his way to outlive me like a spiteful bastard.”

You smacked his chest gently, moving your head back to meet his eyes in the darkness. “Don’t say that, you and Soap are gonna be neighbors and have old man fights.”

He smiled. “Yeah, so I need my daughters to back me up when he needs to get smacked the fuck up.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. “Go to sleep.”

—

“Simon.”

“Mm.”

“Why don’t you want a boy?”

He looked down at you, back curled into his chest. “Baby, go back to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Just one question and then I’ll sleep.”

He let out a sigh, curling his arm a little tighter around your waist. “I want a boy if you want a boy.”

You shook your head, turning your head to look back at him. “No, that’s not it, Simon. Why don’t you want a boy?”

“…Girls are different creatures all together. I don’t see me when I was a kid in their little faces because they care about their dollhouses, fire trucks and that dumb little astronaut toy, they love each other. If we have a boy, I don’t want him to end up like me.” He rested his cheek on your shoulder. “Or be as mean as Tommy was when we were kids. My girls have love for each other I didn’t have with my brother until three years before he was killed.”

“Simon…” Your hand went to rest on his arm, squeezing it.

“If we have a boy, he’ll be loved just the same. And by sisters who will cherish him like they do each other. He’ll be different than us. Me. He’ll be different than me.” You felt his nose settle into your hair, as he whispered, “So if you want a boy, we can try for one.”

“What would we even name him?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Simon- I’m serious. If we have a boy, what would you name him?” You gently pet his arm on your side.

“Grant Thomas, after my nephew’s middle name.”

A smile on your face. “Perfect.” You turned your head back around, settling your cheek onto your pillow again.

“You’re like 600% not pregnant?”

“PMS-ing.”

“Ah, okay. Hormonal.”

“Yes.”

There was a small moment before he whispered, “What if we have another girl?”

Your arms moved to settle on top of his that were around your waist. “We’ll name her whatever you want, Simon.”

“We’ll name her whatever you want.”

“Simon.”

“What?”

“You give me all your name choices and I’ll pick one. I named Mellie, it’s only fair.” Your eyes fluttered closed again.

He grunted in protest. “Doesn’t matter what’s fair, you’re birthing our imaginary third daughter.”

You let out a huff. “Simon, I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Your eyes opened and you looked over your shoulder, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “Then why are you arguing with me?”

“I’m not arguing.”

“Are you scared to name our imaginary third daughter?”

“No.”

You turned your head away, smacking his arm a little. “Then give me a name or something, since you don’t want to have a boy.”

He held out his hand, pinching his fingers. “…I am this close to sleeping on the couch.”

“Please?” You grabbed his hand and pulled it to your lips.

“Let me sleep on it, love.”

—

“Baby.”

“Mmhm.”

“Lyra.”

Your eyes didn’t open, sleep still claws deep in your brain. “…Hmm?”

“Lyra.” Your husband whispered right by your ear, his cheek rested just above it. “I like the name Lyra.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you like it?”

You pondered the name, letting it settle on your sleep-drunk brain. “Yes.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Go to sleep, Simon.”

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x wife!reader

[dixonsgirl93]

Mornings with Simon [“Ghost” Riley]

(Based off a dream I had last night)

Early mornings with Simon meant cuddling on the sofa to crappy daytime tv. You wearing Simon’s T-shirt and him in just his tracksuit bottoms. Leaning against his bare chest, feeling the heat radiate off him, the light spattering of dark hair on his chest between your fingertips.

“I fancy a coffee.” You say and go to the kitchen. While there you decide to make tea for Simon. He didn’t ask, he probably would if you were making tea for yourself too.

You take the drinks back and sit down. He thanks you and kisses your temple sweetly. Your drink is too hot so you cuddle into Simon’s side and he wraps an arm around you.

In his warmth, with the rising sun burning through the window, with the tv on and no errands ahead, you felt the most comfortable and safe in these moments.

#simon riley mw2 #simon ghost riley imagine #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon Riley fluff #Simon Riley Drabble