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goodday-goodmorn · 4 months

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Little blurb that’s been sitting in my Docs for while based on @auspicioustidings idea from a while ago now i think— But yeah! I’be got like zero motivation to continue this- butttttt i liked the scene a lot so it shall be seen now! (Plus it’s Mhari’s Birthday!!! Happy Birthday Mhari! :> Even though i’m a few hours late into the day Hope you’re having a wonderful birth celebration!)

Based on a a scene i cooked up where reader finally gets caught by none other than the Ghost himself:

The weight of a gun in your hand is familiar.

So is the quiet sounds of a break in. You point at the door, watching, waiting. Like clockwork it creaks open, and there he is.

“Don’t move.”

You say sharply. Making the gun in your hand well known to the intruder.

Silence. He stares at you, you stare back. How many times have you done this dance? Tense words and a dashing messy escape. (The poorly wrapped bandages around your abdomen throb answering you question for you. Too many then.)

You sigh, and lower the gun.

He doesn’t even look suprised.

With a soft, Thump! ,you plop backwards onto the bed, arms outstretched. The gun is still in your hand but it’s dead weight. (Just like you.)

“…You’re not gonna ever stop are you?”

It’s said up at the shitty hotel ceiling. Hushed in the darkness of the room.

“No.”

He says it so simply.

You hum, pulling your knees and legs up onto the bed and rolling over. Back facing him, on your side. You snag a plushie on the way, hugging it close to your chest and settling your chin atop its head.

“Well shit. Turn all my red flags to white then, i give up.”

Defeated. Hushed. Tired. It sounds so unlike your normal voice. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

There’s a dip in the bed, true to his namesake- he was silent as he walked to sit. You haven’t even heard him.

“…Who did your bandages?” Gruff bastard with his gruff voice. Sounding way too passive for talking with you, an enemy, his target actually. He should be barking orders and threats to you, you’ve heard the way he speaks on a mission before, all bite and harsh. But he shows none of that tension now. Not a lick of hostility.

“Who do you think?” You snort out, tucking your face into the head of the plushie and vehemently ignoring him.

“Kid, you need help. You can’t survive on your own.” Straight to business it seems.

Without even turning to look at him, you halfheartedly raise your middle finger.

He sighs.

Silence. Blissful, damning, silence. You’ve no more fight left to give and he knows it. Months on the run, months of constant near death escapes, months of being hunted like a dog. You’re tired. So tired.

“Ya know, Torture isn’t an effective way of getting info outta someone: statistically speaking.”

“We’re not gonna torture you.”

“But you do want that info don’t you?”

More silence.

You hum knowingly.

“And what happens after you get your precious information? You’ll kill me? Maim me like all the other fuckers who end up in your shit list?”

“No. Never.”

He says it with such ferocity it almost takes you by surprise for a second. If you were to be facing him, you would see the hardness of his eyes. The pure conviction swarming in his gaze.

“Not you. Never you.”

…

Finally you turn to him, feeling far too much like a young little kid on the playground who just can’t understand-

“Why?”

Something in his gaze softness. He wants to tell you this because he cares. The team cares. All of them- that they saw you, a prickly, panicked little bird in over their head and flying blind- but he knows it an answer you won’t accept. One you won’t understand. Not at this stage. Not yet. You don’t believe in words, you’ve been lied too far too many times for that.

So he says something you will believe. A watered down version of the truth that feels like such a disservice to everything that makes up your very being.

“You’re interesting.”

You seem to digest his words. Turning them over and thinking in that little head of yours.

‘How long is that interest gonna last?’

That's what you want to say. You want to scream at the top of your lungs that he doesn’t want you. No one does. He’ll get sick of your brashness eventually- he’ll learn and grow used to your tricks. And when your spontaneity grows old, you know what’ll happen.

But you don’t.

You say nothing except—

“…Can I at least pack my bags? …please?”

He knows you don’t have much to pack. He also knows you’re one tricky, flighty little bird. However, he heard your small plea, sees the defeated look in your eyes, the way your hand is so lax around the gun.

Gently, oh so gently, he takes the gun from your hand. You don’t even try and fight him.

“Sorry little bird. Can’t trust you to pack.”

The sad look on your face nearly makes him reconsider. But he can’t risk you getting away again. Not when you’re so easy to catch right now. So vulnerable.

“Can’t you restrain me and then i’ll tell you what to pack?”

That, he can do.

“Up.”

Commands come so naturally to him. You’re almost jealous at how easily they fall from his lips.

Like the old defeated dog you are, you listen, sitting up and presenting your hands to him to restrain. You don’t meet his eyes.

He takes no chances, you are securely bound with a pair of handcuffs. He tugs on them, standing you up and nudging you to the common area of your hotel room. It’s a sizable room, a nice hotel, though truthfully you hadn't really been thinking when you booked it. Brain to frazzled and exhausted to think about anything beyond a clean bed and a hot shower.

The lights are flicked on by his gloved hands, flooding your vision. You hiss blinking and adjusting while he nudges you to the center of the room, down into your knees.

“What am I looking for here, bird?”

Your gaze flicks to him, then to the corner of the room, a vent right by a little corner desk with a lamp.

He follows your gaze and then, (with one last hard look towards you that screams ‘stay’), he walks over. Inside the vent is a crumpled up backpack, old and raggedy. It looks out of place amongst the clean cream colors of the hotel amenities.

He prods at the thing, trained caution. (You don’t blame him after your last stunt with explosives.)

Unceremoniously he opens up the bag and dumps all its contents on the floor. You wince, watching your whole life be scattered on the ground.

A journal, a thermal blanket, a lighter, cash, USB sticks, Your laptop in its thick padded casing (thank god), stolen hotel amenities, nicotine patches, several pill bottles, a half empty water bottle, a pocket knife, bullets…

Your own personal little horde of trinkets.

“Was that necessary…?” You mutter, as he stuffs some stuff back into the bag.

“Can’t blame me for bein’ cautious.”

“Well- i could.”

He turns to look at you. Just… stares at you, all you can see is his eyes at that dreadful mask, boring into yours. He doesn’t need to say anything. You both know you could but you never. Been through too much to really blame him.

You’ve saved his life before, even though he was hunting you. You both know you would never blame him for doing his job. Not at this point.

(Just as he would never blame you for running.)

#cod fanfic #fanfic #go look at auspicioustiddings they’re cool #reader insert #simon riley x reader #I have so many thoughts about this au #Simion is a treat in this #so soft #Reader on the run who is resourceful and just so absurd in their demeanor #i’m talking pulling out insane insults as they run #calling ghosts mask moldy lol #But also is a reader who is just so defeated and tired #they don’t wanna run anymore #not from 141 #not from banter through texts #not from stupid reaction images #not from strangers offering in full confidence to doordash you food while you’re starving #not from the resulting jokes about them trying to get an address out of you #Not from the warm yet hearty meal that shows up anyway #not from the closest thing to family they’ve ever known #but how could they ever stay?#It’s a dynamic set to fail #They are a target #An objective #So what happens when 141 finishes their mission #what happens when they are caught?#ANYWAY— Happy birthday Mhari!!!

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skyxskywlkr · 1 year

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Me: Who else thought that Ghost would look like a Twink under the mask?

AGGRESSIVE WET FART NOISES:

#simon ghost riley #ghost riley #ghost #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #why they do him like that #BYE #That’s not Simon that’s his brother simion

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konigsblog · 1 month

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Hmmmm if simion knocked up one of his victims, would he find that a turn on? Would he be riddled with guilt? Would it matter if the victim knew it was simion or not?

fantastic idea... how guilty would he truly feel? :(

TW/CW: RAPE/NON-CON, FORCED IMPREGNATION & BREEDING, STALKING, RAPIST!SIMON RILEY, DARK CONTENT DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

(YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE.)

rapist-simon riley knew it was cruel to pin down a defenceless woman and have his way with her, but a part of him yearned for the control that being a rapist brought. he wouldn't consider himself a rapist, it hurt him too much to admit the truth — that he was sicko, a brutal and sickening bastard — he'd describe himself as immoral and disturbing instead.

he kept a close eye on you, noticing how your stomach would begin to swell with your pregnancy. he'd sneak his way inside your apartment, having a spare key for himself, every single morning while you were away. he'd rummage around looking for a pregnancy test, eventually finding a positive answer, one that left his heart slamming against his chest.

he is truly disgusted with himself, but he can't just let you walk away, pregnant with his babies and struggling to provide for two. he'd have to take you for himself, lock you away and tend to your needs, manipulating you into sympathising with him.

you'd sit in the basement, blankets around your weak body, with simon gazing down with teary eyes, admiring his newborn baby. you'd be left without a choice but to cling for him and accept his ‘affection’, otherwise he wouldn't let you hold your precious baby girl, separating the both of you from each other.

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maleyhae · 5 months

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DO YOU THINK WE ARE SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

Summary- You have being seeing this trend every where on tik tok, so you wanted to do it but on who? Your ex Simon Riley who you broken up with because of him always being gone.

Warning poorly written angst, out of character Ghost? Idk if I miss anything just let me know

A/N- I'm in my COD era so yay :D based of that 'do you think we are soulmates in every universe " angsty trend enjoy :)

YOUR POV:

You were scrolling on tik Tok when you saw this trend that's been all over your for you page, you wanted to try it out on your Ex-boyfriend. Simion Riley better known as Ghost. You and he had broken up due to the lack of communication. He was at Johnny or 'Soap' house. So you texted him.

TEXT MESSAGES BETWEEN YOU TWO

You: Hey sim I have a question

Simion: Go ahead and ask. And Sim?

You: Yeah sorry habit of mine

You: But, Do you think we are Soulmates in every universe?

read at 11:15 pm

You: Simon?

Simion Riley Pov:

I was hanging out with Johnny. Still not over my ex reader. Johnny is drunk out of his mind. Guess the Scot couldn't handle the alcohol like he claims. My phone vibrate who would be texting me at this hour?

NEW MESSAGE FROM [ ]

what did she want? I unlocked my phone and read her text

"Hey sim I have a question?"

Sim... Her old nickname for me when we dated. I texted back a

"Go ahead and ask. And Sim?"

She apologizes another bad habit she had always had then she asked her question. She asked if we were soulmates in every universe. We were hardly ones in this one why would she think that now? I left her on read while I got another bottle of the shitty beer he had at his house.

"If we are I hope I was brave enough in at least one of them to make you stay." I sent her and saw that she read it at 11:20 pm.

TEXTS BETWEEN YOU TWO (again)

Simon- If we are I hope I was brave enough in at least one of them to make you stay. How about you

You- I'm sorry Sim, I love you in every universe including this one, Just can't keep you with me in this one

Simon- I love you too my love, Just can't be brave enough for you.

------------------------------------------------------------

GUESS WHO'S BACK MY POOKIES WOOKIES

Upcoming fics

Ghost face bill

Stu x reader

Philip graves x Male! Reader

Also if my shit randomly goes to Pierre it's because I changed my name :3 so RAHHHH MERICA 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

#maleyhaeranttime #maleyhae fanfictions #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #angst #no happy ending #ghost x reader angst

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elliotisgae · 2 months

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THIS IS MY FIRST TIME POSTING ON TUMBLR SO BE NICE TO ME!

ALL CAPS BECAUSE I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH RN. I DON'T LIKE MY MIND BY MITSKI IS SIMION RILEY'S FUCKING SONG. If you haven't heard it yet, do yourself a favor. Go listen to it, think about him, cry. The lyrics fit him SO painfully well. I just like him and Mitski's music too much not to post this. Thank you for indulging my tired maybe cringe rant, I'll see myself out. Maybe, if this actually does well I'll post my whole Ghost playlist.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley cod #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #i promise im normal #i think about him a lot tho

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envyangelic · 5 months

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⊹₊ ⋆ WRITING PLANS ⊹₊ ⋆

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆. CHANGES - JTK X READER (Rewriting chapters/ continuing) ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

•

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ SHALLOW OF RUINS - FINNICK ODAIR X READER (rewriting/ finishing last chapters

•

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻ CORRUPTION - SIMION “GHOST” RILEY X READER SMUTSHOT (writing)

#jeff the killer x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair #creepypasta #cod mw2 #jeff the killer

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goodday-goodmorn · 5 months

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Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

#fanfic #cod fanfic #fanfic of a fanfic #(?) kinda #reader insert #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Look at Charlie’s blog right now.#Specifically obsessive Johnny because when i tell you i was-#GAGED #Jaw dropped #Charlie’s got such good characterization #In the case she sees this-#…did you like it?#also hello

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