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outoftheseine · 1 month

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- SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY FIC RECS 2 -

my big, broody husband | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

part one | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

yes, lieutenant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very very angsty, violence, smut)

forcedhusband!simon x reader

↳ by @suimon (sooo much fluff, comfort, slow burn, mutual pining, lots of bantering)

unexpected | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (pregnant!reader, angst, comfort, fluff)

the roommate • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world (angst, fluff, smut, kidnapping, simon here made my heart so fuzzy)

please love me | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @rowarn (angst, smut, comfort, tw’s like depression, sa and suicide)

actions have consequences | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!civilian!spouse!reader

↳ by @mrweh (heavy angst, mean!simon)

office romance • supervisor!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @hecateslore

you had his baby and he didn’t know | part two • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sgrplumditz

ghost distribution system | part two | part three • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @katz-chow

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

his heart, his light, his world • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (so so fluffy)

no judgement • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @blingblong55 (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

consequences • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sinkovia (very angsty, tw: miscarriage)

a place to be weak • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff, little angsty)

superficial wounds, deep devotion • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @tacticaldiary (fluff)

tormented by a ghost • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @shotmrmiller (mean!simon, little explicit)

lights • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (dad!simon fluff, angst, childhood trauma)

sunshine • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @sgtcosmo (fluff)

whispers and words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @dammn-dean (angst, slightly suggestive, happy ending)

secret haven • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lightwing-s (fluff, secret relationship)

gentle love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @floatingfireflies (fluff)

his girls • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @casiia (dad!simon, domestic!simon, fluff, slight angst)

migraines • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @mockerycrow (fluff, physical hurt/comfort)

family ties • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @lundenloves (angst, dad!simon but not a cute dad ahaha)

longing • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (fluff)

hold it together while the world is on fire • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (major character death, grief, angst, tw: drug abuse)

is it too soon? • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (fluff, simon is whipped, grief)

in another life • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @suimon (very angsty, hurt but no comfort)

over his shoulder • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (tooth rotting fluff)

sweet dreams, my love • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @qtboni (so fluffy)

the sacrifice • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @bravo4iscool (medic!reader, fluff, angst but happy ending)

wrong words • simon ‘ghost’ riley x 141!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (hurt/comfort)

being chosen… by a baby • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!single mom!reader

↳ by @southernbluebellereader (fluff)

big guy • simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kivino (fluff, jealous!simon)

gentle giant • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @asph6lt (fluff, soft!simon)

girl dad • dad!simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @thexsilentxwordsmith (very fluffy)

home invasion • neighbour!simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

↳ by @oceantornadoo (hurt/comfort, violence, fluff)

everything’s gonna be okay • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @pearlofthesirens (hurt/comfort)

meet the family • simon ‘ghost’ riley x civilian!reader

↳ by @sim0nril3y (angst, comfort, family issues)

oh muse, tell me of the things done by golden aphrodite • simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

↳ by @sprout-fics (smut, greek mythology au)

late night embrace • simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

↳ by @mondaysoct (fluff, slightly explicit)

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kib-ble · 1 year

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tw: soft mentions of SA

“i got you.. i got you love, don’t worry. i’m bringing you home…” simon whispered, following price and gaz, soap behind him. he held you tight in his arms, your cold, unconscious body. your clothes ripped and bloody. simon could only imagine what they did to you to get information out of you.

soap could read his mind. he saw his worried eyes when they found you tied to a chair, you’re hair matted with blood. your blood. they all knew of the soft spot simon had for you. it was adorable, to say the least. he was protective and loving. he killed anyone in the way to get to you, anyone.

he held you tighter to his chest with any noise he heard. “you’re safe now, lovie. i promise.”

a small kiss landed on your forehead through his mask. it was the thought that counts.

no one in the 141 had the heart to tell him that you couldn’t hear his promises. no one had the heart to tell him that you aren’t going home with him. no one with a beating heart could tell him that yours wasn’t beating anymore..

#simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x reader angst #141 x reader #cod mwii x reader #cod mw ghost #simon ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #kibble writes cod

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piggycyberwarrior · 7 months

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I'm not okay Pt 2.

love y'all and request are opennn!! I. Love. You!

ghost x reader kinda?? idk guys

genre: Angst

Warnings: no proof read reader being kind of depressed, depression rooms, soap being a good friend AGAIN, ghost being an Asshole AGAIN, some fucking plottwist in the end:), yelling, hurting feelings, situationship

Your gaze drifted to the floor looking at the tons of litter covering your carpet. Your body lazily laying on the couch, arm dangling down- hand dropped onto the cold floor.

You sighed in selfpity.

It's been three days since Ghost forgot your birthday and even though you were used being stood up on him- it still hurt.

It felt like he didnt gave two shits about you- not reaching out to you either.

Johnny suggested that he would talk to him- also being his friend, but you quickly waved off.

You didnt want Simon to know how pathetic you looked right now. Crying over his stupid ass and drowning in laziness. Just sleeping and crying- sleeping and cursing yourself,

sleeping and regretting your life choices.

The door of your small flat opened- empty soda bottles fell over with a loud clank, as the door hit them. You didnt bother to look at the person in your doorframe- knowing it was Johnny.

He quickly sighed- walking through your trash-stuffed and dark room- opening the window blinds and letting you hiss in reaction. The bright light was something you did not saw for days, choosing to live in the comforting dimness of your dirty room instead of looking at the cheery sun- laughing about you.

Your eyes finally settled on your friend, who was now standing with a broom and a trashbag in the centre of your home-made-dumpster;- cleaning your trash without a word.

You knew he was going to talk soon enough.

"So-" Soap begun as you clicked your tounge in confirmation- sitting up in the progress.

"He is angry." He just said- shorty stopping his cleaning to look at you with a serious look- that told you to take this as serious as his voice was.

You shrugged at his statement, not caring about Ghost- standing up and opening yourself a soda can. It opened with a soft click and you could smell the tummy churning sweetness that radiated off the drink.

"let him be." You just answered, feeling too empty and broken to care about somebody that didn't cared about you

Soap chuckled quietly- not liking this pessimistic side of his friend. His heavy footsteps made its way to your trashbin, opening it and letting the litter fall into it.

Onto a still half full bottle of your cheap whiskey.

"He says that you need to send in a report of why you are absent."

he quickly glanced at you, as his gaze finally drifted away from the alcohol. You rolled your eyes and groaned in response, taking your now empty soda can and letting it fall into the trashbag Soap held.

His smile refreshed, as you also smiled gently at him- but soon it was replaced with a nervous gutfeeling.

"Did you tell him anything?" you asked softly with a croaked voice- falling gently into his arms, as you felt the tears sting in the corner of your eyes again. Soap sighed as he buried his head into your hair- taking a deep breath, softly hugging you back.

It was a sweet moment- something between friends. Gentle and lovely.

Soaps heart ached just like yours. You deserved the world in his eyes- the whole fucking universe. Seeing you so sad made him feel something. Some rage that he burried deep down- deep deep down his soul- marked as dead

but it lived.

"You need to get away from him." he muttered- his grip on the back of your head tightening just a bit as you nodded into his chest, not complaining about his words.

Maybe you would- in another live

You knew that you and Ghost had no future together. it would just mean more tears. more sadness

More heartbreak.

"Help me Soap." you mumbled with a shaky breath, burrying your face into his warm chest- not wanting him to see you cry again like a stupid baby. You didnt want him to think that you were weak.

"We will get you out of that situation." he whispered lowly into your hair.

And oh you hoped his words would come true

"What do you mean you are done with me?"

Ghost roared behind his office desk. You couldnt see his face- but the hatred that radiated off his eyes was telling you enough.

His fingers clenched around the pen he held, almost breaking it and knuckles turning white. A snarl noticable under his mask- as he rised from his stool.

"You heard me." you huffed while puffing your chest out with crossed arms. Jaw clenching and unclenching- just wanting to get it done.

"Fuck I did." He said with anger blazing behind his brown eyes, voice only a low growl.

"Good-" you wanted to scoff at his asshole behaviour.

"I never liked you anyways." he smirked while looking down on you, only inches space between you.

you breath hitched, your gaze that was never on him- instead on the window of his office- quickly flew to his face. You knew he was lying- just denying some shit that hurts his big ego- but still.

Why did he have to say something like that.

And why didnt he stopped?

"I am doing it."

You said to Johnny, leaving him look at you with shock, his mouth standing agape for some seconds before catching himself and clearing his throat.

'I never felt something for you while we had sex.'

Johnny grasped your hand, smiling at you.

'I imagined someone else the whole time."

"I will support you." he whispered with a soft and gentle smile

'I just used you the whole time, princess'

"Thanks Johnny." You said with a teary smile- hoping he would be your best friend forever and ever and ever.

It was decided.

You will do it.

He felt bad.

Really. He wasn't lying about this. Well he was.

But not entirely

He didnt loved you nor cared for you the way you did.

But he felt bad for his words.

Ghost was standing in front of your door, quiet and unnoticable, debating if he should leave you alone or knock- saying one or two nice things and then never talking about it again

It seemed like a plan.

He quickly glanced at his watch that sat on his delicate wrist. 11pm. You often were one to sleep much and early- leaving Ghost worried if you would even hear him in your sleep.

You would have

but only if he had really knocked on your door.

His mind was torn by his inner conflict, Soap telling him that he also forgot your birthday.

He felt bad. He really did. Well not entir-

I think you already know what he means.

His fingers knocked before he could think, eyes focused on the wodden door, waiting- anticipating if you would maybe- maybe accept him. Or something else

You didnt answer. You always answered- but not today.

His shoulders visible slumped-maybe because of relief? Maybe because of grief.

He knocked again.

He didnt knew why, but he had to see you a last time-why?

Well maybe he wants you back? Its been two days since he said those horrible words to you, leaving him alone every night.

He had to admit it.

He missed you. Even buying those dumb sodas you liked- the ones he disliked so much because of their taste. But he neverthless bought them in case you would come back after all. Maybe drinking with him just like back then.

Maybe.

His knock was unanswered, leaving him to knock again, harder this time It should have waked you.

A small noise errupted from his side, turning his head to the man that stood there, chuckling at Ghost's Actions

His eyes shortly fixated onto Soap that stood in the corner of the hallway, observing his lieutanent.

"You didnt hear?" he said with an unreadable expression, leaving a confused simon.

"What?" Ghost growled, not wanting to see Soap right now

"She left."

#Ghost x reader angst #ghost x reader angst drabble #ghost x reader drabble #Simon ghost riley x reader angst #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley drabble #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader angsty imagine #soap x friend!reader #Call of duty simon ghost riley angst #CoD Ghost x reader x soap #I am not okay pt 2

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 11: Canary

Ch. 10 < Series Masterlist > Ch. 12

Warning: character death, graphic description of injuries, cursing.

Summary: A reunion and an apology.

Do not read this work if you're ander 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 2300~

The sound of the running water has always been comforting to Canary. It never failed to lull her into a sense of relaxation. Granted, the low adrenaline and the blood loss were also aiding her weakened state. At any other point, she would’ve felt anxious, but there was nothing she could really do at this point. She had already tried to get up, and barely managed to make herself dizzier. Her body kept shivering due to the cold, and she guessed she was about to break into a fever anytime now.

However, she knew now that Ghost was close, and Soap was likely with him. They must have found out where she was, and it would be only a matter of time until they realized she was in the forest. She knew they wouldn’t leave without her. No one fights alone. No one is left behind. She only needed to keep herself awake and press down on her wound until they found her.

She reminisced of a childhood with her grandparents, cooling off during the summer by jumping in the pond, and weekend trips to the river to go fishing. One time, her grandmother had taken her hiking in the mountains in search of blueberries, and they ran into a stream - just like this one. But as they looked towards the other shore, they saw a fox mom and two kits. The mom was drinking water from the stream and the kits were bouncing around, squeaking like fluffy, jumpy toys.

There was a rustle of leaves coming from the opposite shore, and Canary snapped back into the present. She combed the shore with her eyes, hoping to see the familiar skull mask or a mohawk, but instead she saw a figure getting closer to the shore, a bit wobbly and heaving for air.

When Alan finally made it into the clear, her blood froze in her veins. How was he even alive? She was almost certain she had stabbed him in the chest, but in her enraged and adrenaline-fueled frenzy, she may have missed his heart just so. She cursed herself for not further checking if he was truly dead before running from the cabin, though she had to concede that she was not in the same mental state as she usually was in the battlefield. It was not the time to try and analyze her actions, though.

She silently watched him from behind the bushes, as he drawed his eyes carefully along the shore, until he stopped right at the place she had crossed. She followed his gaze and cursed, her heart drumming wildly against her ribcage - he found her footprints in the mud.

Alan approached the trace slowly, his left arm hung limp by his side, covered in blood from the shoulder, and in his right hand he held the gun. He stopped and studied the mud, following with his gaze an imaginary trace to the other side of the stream. Canary held her breath as she saw his eyes light up and he found the continuation of the footprints on her side of the shore.

Although she wasn’t wearing any camo, her running clothes were dark enough to be hidden in the shadows of the forest. If she stayed still, he might look past her. It was no more than wishful thinking though, as Alan raised his right arm, and shakily aimed in her general direction. His crazed, bloodshot eyes were wide open, and his face vaguely resembled one of those japanese demon masks that Oni had given her as a gift and now hung on her living room wall, only much paler from his own blood loss.

She waited for him to shoot at any random direction - maybe even her head -, but instead he stepped into the stream. His steps were slow, almost robotic, and Canary had to remind herself to breathe as every step brought him closer to her. Suddenly, a distant call reached her ears:

“Canary!”

Soap’s voice traveled through the forest and into her ears, washing over her entire body like a cool shower on a hot summer day. Canary opened her mouth to call back, but shut it quickly and bit her lip - if she made the littlest noise, Alan would find her, and he was already here unlike Soap. She began brainstorming for a way to get their attention, her thoughts growing frenzy and more muddled the further Alan got into the water. As he was about to reach the middle of the current, he stopped, a demonic smirk spreading through his lips like poison ivy.

“There you are,” he sneered, and fired the gun.

~~~~~~~

“...So, why do they call you Canary?” Gaz inquired as the post-mission lull fell upon the team as they waited in a safehouse for extraction.

Canary blinked and let a small, playful grin stretch her lips. “Well…”

~~~~~~

As the bullet whistled past her, narrowly missing her shoulder, she braced herself closer to the large tree beside her to use it as a shield.

There was no point in hiding now, she thought with a grimace, they must’ve heard the gunshot.

She gulped down what little saliva she could muster and thought of how to let them know she was still there, waiting for them. She remembered how her voice failed her when she tried to call for Ghost earlier, and decided that it wouldn’t be much different now.

Instead, she wet her lips and took a deep breath, filling her lungs until it hurt to do so and her sight grew hazy from the pain, and let it out in a clear, high-pitched whistle.

~~~~~~

“Canary!” Soap called again, his eyes searching into the forage for any sign of movement. Both him and Ghost knew that, if Canary was being chased by the other man, she probably wouldn’t give away her position, but it would assure her that they were there, about to find her. He looked to his three, finding Ghost sweeping the greenery through the scope. Gaz was on his nine, while Price had chosen to search through the road just in case.

Just as he opened his mouth to call for Canary again, they heard the gunshot. No words needed to be exchanged, as they rushed in its direction. Cold sweat ran down Soap’s back as the thin branches hit his face in his race towards the gunshot.

They were so close, so close. It couldn’t, it wouldn’t end like this when they were this close to Canary.

Abruptly, as bright as the first star in the evening skies, a clear whistle rang through the forest, and both Soap and Ghost knew exactly who it belonged to. Their hearts filled with euphoria as they cleared the distance to the stream, and they saw from the distance a man standing in the middle of the water, his gun pointed to the other side as he shot it once more.

~~~~~~

The second bullet ricocheted on the tree trunk, and Alan resumed his march across the stream. But as he took another step, a searing pain exploded in the back of his leg, making it buckle into the freezing water. Looking at the back of his leg for the origin of the pain, he saw the hilt of a knife sticking out. And as he turned his face to see where it came from, a large shadow with the face of the grim reaper engulfed him

Alan barely had time to gasp in surprise when a gloved hand clutched his throat and dunk him in the icy water. He struggled to keep the air in his lungs as the shock from the cold took hold of his body, but the grip on his throat was so strong that no air would be let in or out anyway.

In a desperate attempt to shrug off the massive and increasing weight on his windpipe, Alan raised his gun, but managed nothing as another knife was stabbed between his ribs. He realized in terror that the air was escaping him, and felt the icy water invade his lung from the open wound.

As his mouth fell open in a gargled scream, the darkness invaded his sight from the corners, the face of the grim reaper being the last thing he would ever see.

~~~~~~

Ghost retrieved his knife from the ribs of the man beneath him, and watched as life faded from his terrified eyes. He secretly wished he had had more time to make the bastard pay for what they did to Canary, but this was just as good.

He looked up from the corpse and saw that Soap had finished crossing the stream and was now approaching Canary, and he jumped to his feet to follow him.

Canary stared at Soap’s figure with half-lidded eyes, her breathing growing heavier by the second. The whistle she made earlier had taken all but a portion of the oxygen in her lungs, and she was having a hard time getting it back. Still, a relieved smile lightened up her features, and she raised a shaky hand to meet him.

“J-Johnny,” she panted the moment her fingers met his, “s-sorry about t-the hoodie,” she wanted to say more but was interrupted by soft lips pressing against hers in an urgent, desperate kiss.

Although it was short-lived, it didn’t fail to leave her dazed and wanting more, with warmth spreading to her cheeks as their eyes met.

“Fuck, Tweetie, y’know there are plenty of those for you to steal whenever,” he couldn’t help but grin as his hands engulfed her cheeks, before his eyes roamed down her body to check her injuries, and his features fell into a frown. “Alright, bonnie, let me check these,” his hand inched closer to her bandages, and she whimpered in pain at the touch, her head falling back limply against the tree.

From a distance, they could hear Gaz calling into his radio, and the sloshing water as Ghost ran towards them.

“I-... I lost a lot of blood,” she groaned, and her face paled again much to Soap’s desperation. He pulled away the bandages just as Ghost joined them, and kept himself from gasping at the state of her wound. Simon just made it to their side and Canary’s head lolled to the side to watch him, sending him a sleepy smile.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered as he got closer. His eyes crinkled in a smile as he held her cold hand, pressing a kiss on it through the fabric of the balaclava.

“Of course I would,” he exhaled, trying not to make the knot in his throat choke him up, “I’ve waited two bloody months to see you again.” Canary smiled through her foggy eyes as a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

Simon wiped it away with his thumb and looked at what Johnny was inspecting. His eyes fell on her wound and inwardly panicked - it was much worse than she’d ever let on. Judging by the state of the bandages and the tremor in her limbs, she were close to being in shock - how she had managed to get this far was beyond them.

The radio crackled and they heard Price’s voice, “Evac is coming, stabilize her for the trip.” Simon’s eyes met Johnny’s and he instantly moved to retrieve clean bandages from his kit as Johnny searched for a stim shot. It would only keep her going for so long, perhaps just enough for her to be loaded onto the heli and into the hands of more capable field doctors.

Canary felt the sharp sting of the stim shot in her leg, and was moved back and forth as her wound was cleaned and the bandages changed. Her tongue felt more numb than before, though, and dark spots began clouding her vision. She knew it would be only a matter of time until she finally fainted.

“I-... I’m sorry,” she whimpered, barely loud enough for the other two to hear. She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to apologize. Maybe for letting herself be taken like this, when she should’ve been stronger, or maybe for letting herself get this hurt. Perhaps for wanting to spend her medical leave off-base, or for going on that run.

Or maybe, it was for all that together, and more things she couldn’t quite remember at the moment.

She knew Johnny was saying something to her, but she couldn’t quite hear him. The ringing in her ears was too loud. The sounds around her felt like mud.

Her eyes were heavy, just like her chest - it was getting hard to even breathe. A nap sounded nice.

She made a sound where she felt the cold ground on her back - was it pain or relief? She wanted to sleep.

A hand was slapping her cheek. Just a nap, a short one.

The smell of her grandma’s cookies. The vintage sound of 80’s rock albums playing on her grandpa’s record player. Dancing in their living room. She should go and visit their graves before her next mission. She knew her parents didn’t, and would probably refuse to visit hers, too.

The stuttering sound of a helicopter’s blades.

Grandma and Grandpa would visit her grave. Simon and Johnny would, too. They would’ve all gotten along, if they had ever met. Grandpa was born in Manchester, like Simon. Grandma knew how to curse like a Scot because of her own parents. A big, noisy family dinner.

It was pretty dark. Just a short nap. The ringing in her ears was constant now, but slowly fading away.

“Canary, wake up!” Simon sounded scared. Why? She was fine.

Just… Just a nap.

“[Name]! Please!”

A/N: ... I-...

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @tapioca-marzipan @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25 @cumbersome-robes @carlyi @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @scarletbandit @twistytimesandthoughts @angelsquidd @ilovemoneyandcheese @sail-boat21 @vvoidspaceeee @httpsarii1 @delreyaddict @madelyn324566

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buterccup · 1 year

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Silver Bracelet

Summary: Guilt and sadness overwhelm Simon as he lays in his room looking up at the ceiling and his mind rewinds back to the days he treasured the most as he plays with your silver bracelet.

Warnings: Heavy angst, mentions of death, small bits of fluff, blood, usual CoD violence, swearing, a little bit of comfort at the end

Character(s): Simon "ghost" Riley x Gn! reader

[c/n] = Codename

Simon had no idea what time it was as he lay in his bed as the silver bracelet in his had no longer felt cold from how long he held onto it. His heart felt heavy and he was sure he couldn't stay awake any longer. Even with his insomnia.

His bed felt lighter and less warm. Empty. And the more the noticed it the more he felt his heart ache and the more he felt his breath get shaky. He always knew, joked even, that he was cursed and every single good thing that happened to him always got taken away from him in the end in the most painful way a person could lose something.

Death.

Now, he knew that he really was. Everyone in 141 tried to help him cope with his grief but nothing seemed to work. Not even Soap's dumb jokes. It seemed like the more they talked to the Lieutenant about what happened the more he closed himself from them.

Simon was quieter during missions. More Violent. Like he was letting out all of his anger, sadness and heartache into his work. Simon thought if he let his emotions out like this, the missing feeling he has will soon go away. But he knows better.

His knuckles were almost white from how hard he was gripping your silver bracelet. Your voice echoed through his head as he looked down at his hand. Your hair, your eyes, your smile. Everything kept flashing in his mind. Like it was teasing him. Mocking him.

It would be about this time of the night you would wake him up from a nightmare or because you moved in your sleep.

"Si...Did I wake you up?" your voice was soft but also croaky from waking up, your eyes meeting his once he place a hand on your cheek. The warmth of him making you smile.

"Of course not sweetheart. Never." his response made you smile even more as you moved your arm to hold him closer. The shine of your silver bracelet meeting the moon light and breaking through the darkness of the room.

But now it was just cold. Even though the bed felt so empty he felt like someone put weights on his shoulders as all he could think about was you.

He should've known better than to let you into his life, you deserved someone so much better than him. He knew the dangers of you getting close to him. YOU knew the danger of getting close to him but you still did it anyways.

You never looked scared. You always smiled. You always made his heart feel warm even on the coldest days. He remembers the time he almost lost you. And you still made him feel loved.

"Hang in there okay, [c/n]?" His breath was broken and there was blood soaked into his clothes as he watched over you during the ride to the base. You were bleeding so much, even with your bandages but your eyes looked so bright anyway, you even smiled at him.

Once you all arrived at base Ghost was the first one to get off the helio and get you help while the others trailed behind him. He could feel you get limper and weaker in his arms making him fear the worst and shout more.

He felt his heart sink like it did now once they took you away from him on a cot. But as soon as he got you taken away from him you came back.

"[c/n]..."

"Ghost..I'm so sorry."

"You can nothing to be sorry about sweetheart." his voice was soft. like he got out all of his pent-up feelings when you all arrived, he even felt comfortable enough, even after what you both went through, to take off his balaclava.

"You're so pretty."

"You're pretty too, love."

No matter how much he worried and how much you scared him during that time, he wished it happened again instead of happened days before. At least you were still here.

"SHIT! [Name]!"

"Ghost! we have to go!" Soap's voice would call over the coms as he fought off more men while Price and Gaz were trying their best to catch their target while you fought your own battle in a ring of fire.

Ghost could do anything but back you and Soap up but he felt his breath being taken away once he heard your scream.

"FUCK!"

everything went so quickly after he heard your scream. Price and Gaz caught the bastard soon after you got wounded and Soap and Ghost helped you out of the fire and ash. You all were so close to getting out of the shit hole.

And before he knew it the coldness of your silver bracelet lay in his hand while the rest of 141 helped him the best they could.

It was almost time for him to get up but it didn't bother him. Simon had this moment with himself every night since you died. Your dog tag was placed on his desk and bracelet in hand.

And if he was going to be honest, he didn't want to wear your bracelet. Not yet anyway.

It wasn't because he couldn't accept you were gone, he knew that. It was because these moments with himself were healing him. Slowly but surely. Simon Riley, Ghost, the strongest in the battlefield, will have the strength to wear that simple silver bracelet.

Requests: Open

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #angst #mw2 angst #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 141 #simon ghost riley x reader angst #soap mw2 #gaz mw2 #price mw2 #mw2 141 x reader

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mcntsee · 11 days

Text

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

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truetogaia · 3 months

Text

just thinking and crying over the way simon would continue to refer to you as “his girl” even after your sudden passing.

he would talk about you as if you were still alive whenever relationships came up in conversation. and he’d be so reluctant to allow anyone, even his respected comrades, to try and comfort him.

“yeah, me n my girl have been together for years now. she’s everything. all i’ve got, ya know?”

he would make sure to always keep your resting place full of life. Whether that was by planting your favorite plant, and naming it after you, or always keeping it filled with bouquets of your favorite flowers. and he’d always take your beloved pet that you left behind to go see you.

“did you miss mommy, p/n? i bet our girl missed you so much.” and he’d smile sadly when your baby showed signs of recognizing your grave. his heavy hand petting it comfortingly “so excited to see her today, yeah?”

cod masterlist

#in my crying era #drabbles #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost angst #simon riley angst #ghost x reader #cod angst #cod fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff

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empresskylo · 5 months

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley is a light sleeper. he’s so well trained to be on high alert that even when he’s not on duty he wakes at the smallest sound.

sometimes you’ll get up in the middle of the night and he immediately sits up. “you alright?” he slurs.

you make a small sound of discomfort or wiggle a little too much and his head is turning on the pillow, his eyes on you. and he always asks if you’re okay. you’ve told him he’s being silly and sometimes you just have to get up to go to the bathroom, but you gave up on telling him that—he’s adamant on checking on you.

and anytime he wakes up, no matter where the disturbance comes from, he’s looking over to your side of the bed to make sure you’re okay first.

and if you ever do need him in the middle of the night, all you have to do is whisper his name. he opens his eyes almost immediately and instinctively tightens his arm around you. “everythin’ alright?”

and one time you couldn’t sleep. your face was buried in his chest as he clung to you, the soft rumble of his snores letting you know he was knocked out. you didn’t want to wake him, but you were crying. you barely even moved as you teared up into his chest. suddenly, his hands squeezed you tighter. “whats’a matter?” he coos softly.

you tilt your head up to him teary eyed. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”

he clicks his tongue. “tell me what’s wrong, baby.” his hand gently caressing your face, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.

and he’s so protective. if you roll over and out of his hands he’s quick to pull you back into his grip. he likes having his hands on you while he’s sleeping. it makes him feel more secure knowing you’re okay.

when you fall asleep together on the sofa, your body pressed to his, his arms are wrapped around your waist, clutching you closely against him. it doesn’t even matter if he’s too warm, he wants you touching him at all times whenever he’s asleep.

it’s gotten to the point where he can barely sleep when he’s not with you. without you safely in his arms, without being able to physically feel you under his fingertips, it continuously wakes him up. he’s lucky to get two hours in a row without waking.

post that inspired this | my cod masterlist

#ghost #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw3 #ghost mw3

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criminalamnesia · 3 months

Note

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

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vvanisshedd · 26 days

Text

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

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outoftheseine · 5 months

Text

- SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY FIC RECS -

a lot of dad!simon fics here. i am not sorry. i want to bear this man's child(ren) | note: this is COD so there are some trigger warnings like: blood, guns, injuries, military stuff, death so please beware of them. there also also 18+ content so minors DNI. don't forget to read the authors' warnings | more will be added!

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

haunted | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (heavy angst, tw: depression, drugs, addiction suicide, toxic relationship, please read the warnings!)

too old for you | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x medic!fem!reader

↳ by @lunarw0rks (smut, hurt/comfort, age-gap)

soft spot • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @cordeliawhohung

the red means, i love you • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader x john 'soap' mactavish

↳ by @thewriterg

smashing pumpkins • simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!fem!reader

↳ by @qwimchii

last kiss | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @milf-murdock (angst, unestablished relationship, smut, fluff)

secret lovers | part 2 • husband!simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

↳ by @savemefromanepicoftimewasted

my baby swingin' • biker!simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @tojisun (very sexy biker!simon, smut, fluff)

happiness • simon 'ghost' riley x wife!fem!reader

↳ by @lethalchiralium (i feel so fuzzy when i read this series, fluff, sometimes angst, some tw be aware)

i'm with you | keep you close • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @undercoverpena (angst, feelings, explicit)

being yelled at by ghost | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @hxltic (angst! simon is an asshole)

northern attitude | part 2 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst)

lights on • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @peachesofteal (single mom!reader, fluff, slight angst, protective!simon)

one night stand | part 2 | part 3 • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @cmncisspnandmore

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC'S

break in, break down • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @hyperactively-me (home invasion, comfort, fluff)

his girls • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @babygirl-riley (so so so fluffy, dad!simon)

one fucking mistake • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @codfanficedits (very angsty, hurt but no comfort for a whilez grieving, tw:depression)

book boyfriend • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @stargirlrchive (fluff)

lime-sized • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @imperihoe-writes (pregnant!reader, very fluffy)

bloodied bullets, soft confessions • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @ghosts-cyphera (a little mean!simon, hurt/comfort, injuries, fluffy end)

monster • neighbor!simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @rowarn (smut, protective!simon, zombie au)

unmasked love • simon 'ghost' riley x afab!reader

↳ by @springtyme (so so so cute! dad!simon)

adoration • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @yawnderu (dad!simon, fluff)

simon 'ghost' riley x sensitive!gn!reader

↳ by @cherryredstars (fluff and nswf content)

this chapter is over • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @colonelarr0w (character death, angst, injuries, some fluff)

simon says • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @unreliablesnake (smut)

salt in an old wound • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!oc!reader

↳ by @ghouljams (hurt/comfort, explicit content, fae au)

blood on my shirt, rose in my hand • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @alwaysshallow (friends to lovers, the continuation is on ao3!)

antique soldiers • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @mangowafflesss

why? • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, slightly explicit at the end)

cold but warm • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @riverbutghost (asshole!simon, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

pretty pink flowers and bloody cherry blossom tree • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @underscorewriting (really really angsty, ugly cried)

for the last time • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @wttcsms (pregnant!reader, mentions of death, angst but fluff)

welcome home • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @nastybuckybarnes (home invasion, arguing, fluff)

medical leave • simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

↳ by @kib-ble (mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff)

no more stars left to count • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @lvlyghost (angst, hurt/comfort)

protective • simon 'ghost' riley x reader

↳ by @ponyosmom35 (medic!reader, protective!simon, tw: sexual harassement)

return • simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

↳ by @bruhrobs (fluff, colleagues to lovers, single mom!reader)

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kib-ble · 1 year

Text

medical leave

(simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn! reader)

summary: simon comes home from a long mission on medical leave and he doesn’t tell you because it will worry you

*i tried to write simon where he’s kinda clueless on how to comfort the reader, but kinda made it not like that, idk, enjoy!*

when simon arrived home the lights were off, a few notable changes were made, and you were fast asleep on the couch. a quiet movie lit up the room, showing how comfy your make-shift bed was. he smiled at this. you didn’t know he was coming home this early but you also didn’t know he was gonna be gone this long.

‘it’s only three months,’ simon promised the night before he left. his hands on your waist. your hands on his face, holding his jaw. your thumb brushed against the spikes of stubble on his jaw, he never had the chance to shave. the two of you held each other close, allowing your scents to waft to each other. it was relaxing.

it was five months later when he returned. he knew it would’ve been more if price didn’t put him on medical leave, you didn’t have to know that.

“oh love..” simon dropped his bag full of equipment and slowly walked over to your sleep form. his hand softly pushed the hair out of your face before lifting his mask and giving you a kiss on your cheek. he pulled the covers up on you more and moved to walk to the bathroom.

once he successfully got his gear off, with not much sound, he carefully took of his shirt to show the bloody bandage on his lower abdomen. he had just got it changed before he left but the stab was deep to continue to bleed even after it was stitched up.

he gently peeled off the tape and replaced the padded bandage. the wound stung as the bandage was pressed against it, but atleast is wasn’t infected.

when he had finished washing his body with a loofa, as to not get water in the bandage, he got changed and went to go get you from the couch.

he carefully kneeled down next to the couch and rubbed your shoulder to gently wake you up. when your eyes slowly opened and your mind was cleared of all delusions, you finally realized that it was simon infront of you, not a total stranger.

the shocked face you apparently made got a soft chuckle out him before you jumped into his arms. an ‘oof’ like noise came out of him as he fell back to the ground. your legs wrapped around his waist and pressed against his bandage earning a quiet hiss out of him as well. concerned moved through your body as you looked at him.

“what happened?” you hands cupped his face as you looked into his eyes. his hands held your waist as he gently squeezed it.

“i’m fine, just sore” he promised. you nodded and continued to hug him. your arms tighten around his neck as his arms tighten around your waist. he carefully, and somehow successfully, picked you off the ground and took you to your bedroom. simon gently set you down on the bed, then he got into the other side, cuddling up with you.

“i’m sorry i was gone so long, baby.” his hand came up to play with your hair as you laid on his chest. you looked up at him and smiled. you were always understandable about how much simon worked. it was his job and you were used to it. you did hate the thought of him getting hurt though, which is why he didn’t tell you about his injury.

your arm that laid across his abdomen, your hand softly rubbed his side. of course, it was the side with the obvious, bulky bandage on it. your hand slid across the tape before fully extending to land on the bandage itself, resulting in simon wincing once again.

you sat up abruptly, looking down at simon, who was still slightly recovering from the pain. “whats wrong?”

“nothing, love.. it’s nothing.” simon followed suit, sitting up as well. just a lot slower than you. “i promise.”

“simon,” you spoke firmly, “are you injured?”

he looked into your eyes, deciding it was best not to lie. he sighed and nodded, “yes, i got injured on my last mission, but i’m fine.”

“simon, are you kidding me?” you leaned your head back, eyes screwed shut. “what happened?”

“i got stabbed..” your eyes widened, which simon noticed very quickly, “love, i promise i’m fine.” he quickly spoke.

“simon, you got stabbed! how are you fine with that!?”

“obviously i’m not fine with it, but i handled it. i always do. you’re so worried over nothing..” he knew why you were worried. there would be a time when he didn’t come home from his job. a time where the 141 would show up at your home, carrying the rest of your boyfriends stuff, giving it to you and telling you the news. ‘we regret to inform you that simon ‘ghost’ riley has been killed in action. without his heroic selflessness, we could say that we would not be here to deliver you the flag of our country that ghost had fought so hard for.’

the thought of them showing up at your door had you in tears. you got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wipe your eyes. you’re sniffling could be heard were simon sat, watching you. he felt terrible but he never meant to get injured and he never wanted to tell you.

“lovie, im sorry. i didn’t want to tell you cause i knew you’d feel terrible..” his soft words could barely be heard in the bathroom, but you understood. you looked over at him, wiping your remaining tears with your hand. “come here, lovie..”

his hand patted the spot next to him, where you were just laying with him. to no avail, you sat back down, not looking at him. “how bad is it?”

“it’s stitched up, but it bled a lot. not enough to make me loose consciousness though.” you nodded, moving your eyes to where his hand sat, which you could assume was right over the wound. simon noticed your staring, “it’s not a big wound, i got the son of a bitch before he could drag the knife.” he once again assured you.

another nod and you silently laid down, looking up at the ceiling. “i’m scared simon.” you whimpered.

“about what love?” simon looked down at you. your eyes closed once again and he noticed the few tears fall down your cheeks again. “oh, baby.”

he laid down next to you as your hugged him tight, you face mushed into his neck, arms carefully wrapping around his abdomen. “baby, it takes a lot to kill me.”

“i know, but-“

“no ‘buts’, im okay. i’ll be okay. i promise you. i’m not reckless and i would never try to get purposely get myself killed.” he held your face, focusing you on his words. “i promise..”

a small smile grew on your face, indicating you understood. a smile also grew on simons, which was just pure happiness and love for you. he hugged you close and you managed to fall asleep in his arms. it was late and he had woken you up from your nap before so you were still undoubtedly tired. your soft breathes managed to lull simon to sleep, too. which, again, wasn’t too hard since he was tired.

#cod mwii x reader #kibble writes cod #simon ghost riley x reader angst #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

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piggycyberwarrior · 7 months

Text

White Lily's and Unsaid Words

Warnings: No proof read, dying reader kinda.., mentions of death.

request are open y'all. And remember: I love you and I am there for you all.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley knows a lot of things. How to slice up a man without too much noise. How to get information out of people. He fought battles that nobody should have see. He won fights- his opponent dead and not even burried

Vanished.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a beast. His body is ripped, muscles covering every inch of his skin just like his scars. They weren't pretty. No Throphy's. he would be naive to brawl about the marks.

They are warnings. For him.

Warnings that he almost died several times. That life isnt forever. He knew that better than most people on earth- and that made him dangerous.

Simon Ghost Riley is feared. Soldiers shit their pants if he raises his voice while combat trainings- spatting venomous words with his heavy accent. Still he is respected by everyone. He is a walking Monster. Ripping enemys apart as if they were sticks- cracking through their bones and minds- just having his mission in mind.

Simon Ghost Riley isn't handsome. Well he is in his own way. Scars litter across his face, his nose bridge crooked- a reminder to protect his face more in combat. His stern and cold eyes. Blond short hair and a bit of a stubble.

Neverthless you loved him

Simon Ghost Riley wasn't one to talk often. His low voice sometimes grunted in response when he had to answer a question. A groan that sometimes slipped past his lips after he slumped down into his bed, wounds freshly bandaged and taken care of.

Simon Ghost Riley was a rough man. Somebody that is a bit rough around the edges, sometimes saying hurtful things that would hurt people. Hurt you.

But you loved him neverthless

Simon 'Ghost' Riley was a good man even though he isn't showing it. He fought for his land, saved his teammates so often-he stopped counting to be honest. He didnt care. Didnt care that people would look at him in fear- are scared of him. He knew that he only needed you and his team. Nothing more.

You loved that trait of his

Simon 'Ghost' Riley loved you more than every other person on this damn planet. He loved the way your eyes shined. Loved the way you laughed- lived- The way you were breathing peacfully next to him. He wanted to grow old with you and that scared him to death. He never was so in love with somebody. He would die on the spot if it meant saving you.

But

Simon 'Ghost' Riley failed to show you his love, dumping you, neglecting you, lashing out on you- not having the ability to show you the love you deserved. he cursed his mind, that he is the way he is. His heart clenched while you cried- but not comforting you. letting you alone as he had to control himself not to bang his head into the wall till it bled. He was scared that you would leave if he opened up. He was a coward when it came to love

And in the end.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley lost you on some fatal Misson.

"I love you, Si." you smiled weakly- shots and screams errupting around you but neither of you cared as your body went limp. You knew it must be the end. Breathing getting shallower till it completely stopped. His arms holding you, tears stinged in his brown eyes. "I" he croaked but stopped himself. He couldnt say it back. He wanted to. but he couldnt. He couldnt tell you how much he loved you.

Not a single time

You died that day, laeving Simon Ghost Riley alone on this cursed planet.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley never was one to talk much.But Oh how he wished that he talked just a little bit longer with you, sharing his feelings with you- if he hadnt been such a coward. Too scared to tell you his past- even though you shared everything with him.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley felt like the most horrible person on the planet. Letting you die in his arms- after you took a fatal hit for him- and not even saying 'i love you too' back. He was a coward. Too scared to love. Crying his eyes out that night and wanting you back in his arms.

But all he could do was bringin you fresh lily's everyday and cry at your grave- in hope you would see him and forgive his actions.

Neverthless you loved Simon with all his flaws, but he couldnt return you all the love you deserved.

#Simon ghost riley x reader angst #x reader angst #simon ghost riley cod angst #cod drabble #Simon ghost riley x reader angst drabble #Simon ghost riley x dying!reader angst #Cod Simon ghost riley x reader angst #Cod Simon ghost riley x reader angst drabble #simon ghost riley angst

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

Text

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 9: Broken Cage

Ch. 8 <; Series Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood and injury, character death.

Summary: Canary will make them pay for everything. All at once.

Do not read this work if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 2800~

“Luke is taking too long.” Alan comments to no one in particular, his cup of coffee in front of him left untouched after the first few sips - it tasted like sewage water, truth be told.

Charlie simply hummed in acknowledgment as he munched down on some crackers he had found in his backpack - the only non-stale food in the cabin. He gulped them down with cold coffee, and Alan decided not to think too much about the state of his taste buds.

“He’s probably just avoiding the cops,” Charlie finally commented after a few silent minutes, “maybe there are blockades and shit.”

Alan said nothing, limiting himself to smoke his cigarette and watch out of the open cabin door towards the road. It was almost noon, and he had returned to the cabin hours ago. He had planned on getting some shut-eye once Luke had come back, but the hours passed with no news and he was growing antsy.

He knew that as far as Luke was concerned, the only thing the police could arrest him for was driving a stolen van. If that was the case, it would be only a matter of time until he received a call from the police station and he would have to present himself as his friend to bail him out, or as his lawyer and demand his release until a set court date. He had done it with Charlie a couple of times before, it would be a first for Luke.

A quiet grumble interrupted his musings, and both men looked at the direction it came from. Alan suddenly remembered that their cute little hostage hadn’t had anything to eat in almost two days, and he sighed. “...Right.” He took one cracker from the sleeve and stood up, stepping slowly towards her.

Canary froze up, inwardly cursing her stomach for being so impatient and calling their attention. She had been painstakingly rubbing the hilt of the knife against her bindings, keeping her wrist movements hidden from her captors with the rest of her body. She had managed to avoid detection so far, and it seemed as if her greatest traitor would be her own body. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears as Alan approached her, and she wormed away from him in an attempt to hide her little plan.

He stopped right before the bed, and showed her the cracker held between two fingers. “If you try to bite me, I’ll tear your teeth out one by one, understand?”

Canary gulped and nodded, knowing that her best chance of escaping would be by them letting down their guard. That would only happen if they didn’t see her as a danger, and the only way she could accomplish that, was to be obedient and submissive. Only until she got her damn restraints off, though.

Alan nodded and leaned down, pressing the cracker against her lips. She took it with her teeth as slowly as she could, trying her best not to touch his fingers with her lips. Alan smirked, releasing the cracker and stroking her cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

She felt like lurching whatever remained in her empty stomach as she heard him - it definitely sounded much better when it was Simon saying it - but she ate the cracker in silence. It was a little humid, but it would do for now.

“If you behave,” Alan hummed, pulling away, and walking back to his seat, “you’ll get another one later.”

She now really wanted to bite his fingers off.

“I can think of something else for her to eat, though,” Charlie leered at her, licking his lips with a wolfish grin.

She narrowed her eyes. I dare you to try, see how my chompers work, she thought, but stayed silent as she swallowed the cracker. Canary had resumed her work on the ligatures as they were distracted, slowly grinding the knife against the bindings, which were giving away little by little. The more they loosened, the more she could feel the rope burn around her wrists. She kept her breathing steady, not looking away from the men as she worked.

Alan seemed to read her thoughts, though, as he cackled out loud. “You want to live the rest of your life with half a dick? Be my guest then.” Charlie simply shook his head, lighting a cigarette and clowning the smoke towards her.

“She won’t be able to if I dislocate her jaw, though,” he chuckled darkly, enjoying the mental image that his brain conjured, already feeling his blood pooling to his crotch.

“That’s for the buyer to decide, and you know that,” Alan scolded him, and put out the butt of his cig on the table. He checked his wrist watch and stood up with a grunt, patting down the front of his jacket. “I’m off to check if we got an answer from our buyer,” he walked to the door and sent Charlie a last warning, “I’m serious, if you do anything to her that can’t be covered with a band-aid, I’m going to kill you.”

Charlie watched him go with a snort, taking a long drag of his cig, “You’re no fun.”

The last thread of the rope snapped away at the same moment the door closed shut behind Alan, and Canary nearly cried in relief. She managed to stealthily pull the pieces of rope away from her wrists and hold the knife tightly in one hand. Her blood pounded through the bruises and into her hands, cramping the tips of her fingers, but she was well aware that she had no time to relax. Charlie had stood up from his chair.

He downed the last bit of his coffee and lit another cigarette, his eyes leisurely traveling from her chest to her feet. He took a step closer to the end of the bed, his eyes shifting to her face.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” he grumbled with a smirk, fiddling with the cigarette and leaning in to hold her ankles with his free hand.

Canary kicked back half-heartedly and let out a small whimper while her eyes fixed on his openings, she needed to make him think she wanted to crawl away from him, that would make him lean in even closer. She was dangling the bait in front of him, and her hand clutched the knife, ready to swing at the smallest chance. “Try not to scream so much, okay? Alan is busy, after all.”

Charlie used his leg to press down on her thighs, unknowingly offering her a full view of his back. His free hand clutched her ankles while the hand holding the cigarette inched closer to her skin. He failed to see the shadow over his shoulder as the knife came down.

Canary was significantly weakened from her usual strength, due to the drugs, the hunger, the dehydration. But she still managed to dig the knife halfway into his back - more or less where his upper-lung should be. He let out a painful howl and tried to flinch away, but her hand clamped down on his upper arm and pulled out the knife, before forcing it down on his neck as fast as she could.

The thin muscle gave way to the steel and Canary pulled the knife out just as quickly as she stabbed it, and blood began spurting out in the same rhythm as his heartbeat. Charlie’s legs managed to pull him away from her only to tumble down onto the floor, taking the chair down with him.

Canary jumped on her feet, ignoring the stinging pain in her soles, and readied herself to attack again. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and fueled her with almost the same energy she felt in the battlefield. A sense of euphoria surrounded her when he looked up at her with a mixture of fear and rage, desperately trying to put pressure on the hole in his neck. He opened his mouth but only a gurgling sound came out, and she knew that he was starting to drown in his own blood.

Canary raised her hand holding the knife and took a deep breath, before smirking down at him. He was going to pay for everything, all at once.

~~~~~~

“Get in,” Luke did as was told, or attempted to, since his hands were still handcuffed behind his back. A strong hand pushed him into the car and he groaned in protest, before setting down in the middle of the backseat.

He allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath, until he realized he wouldn't be alone. The Sergeant with the mohawk and the Lieutenant with the skull mask climbed in and sat on his sides, their enormous bodies barely fitting in the back of the patrol car - and big weapons held between their legs. Suddenly the air in the back of the patrol was stuffy and he barely had room to breathe.

An officer sat behind the wheel and Hartford climbed in the passenger seat. “Where?” He simply asked, looking at Luke out of the corner of his eye.

“T-take the road around campus and cross the bridge,” Luke could barely let the words out of his mouth, feeling two pairs of eyes practically digging through his flesh, “then take the first turn to the right.”

The patrol car drove off, and Price’s jeep followed with him and Gaz inside.

~~~~~~

Alan stopped dead in his tracks as he was walking down the road. He knew he had heard a shout, but wasn’t sure of whether it was the girl or Charlie. He slowly turned around, weighing his options.

If it was the girl and Charlie lost it again and tried to ‘shut her up’, they would surely lose another product before he even got a sale confirmation. If it was Charlie, and the girl had managed to hurt him in some way, it meant that he would fight back - the girl was tied, drugged, and hungry; he was at an advantage and would certainly bust her head open. Again, lost product.

A third possibility crossed his mind, but he dismissed it quickly - it couldn’t be possible that she had managed to untie herself. Even if she did, he was still stronger than her, there was no way…

A few moments passed in silence before he began walking back to the cabin. Minutes passed when he finally reached the cabin and opened the door, his mouth instantly slackening in shock.

Charlie was on the floor with his limbs spread out, lying in a pool of his own blood, and their hostage was kneeling on top of him with her hand holding the knife that was still buried to the hilt in Charlie’s chest. She was disheveled, her clothes were covered in blood and her eyes shot up to meet Alan’s. He felt a shiver travel down his spine - her eyes were cold and deadly. His hand reached under his jacket where he hid his holster at the same moment she stood up.

Canary held the knife tightly in her hand and ran forward, nearly slipping on the blood with her bare feet, as she stormed to her enemy with a battle scream that nearly drowned the bang of the shot being fired.

~~~~~~

“Um… Take the road up north and drive on,” Luke gulped as he sat up straight. He had the feeling that if he relaxed just a little, he would die. However, both Soap and Ghost remained silent, simply watching out of the window and only occasionally sending Luke a glare, just to make sure he couldn’t try anything funny. They both knew that their presence in the car alone was enough to inhibit any fighting plan he could conjure up.

As the car turned right on the intersection, a few minutes passed before Hartford recognized the scenery and his heart dropped. A day prior, Melanie Kirk was shot and killed in that road, and the detective remembered exactly which tree had stopped her car. Now, he was traveling down that same road, with one of the men involved in her death, to rescue the woman she had tried to help.

He looked into the side view mirror and saw Ghost’s eyes on him. He seemed to be thinking the exact same thing as him.

They will pay for everything.

~~~~~~

The sound of the bed sheets ripping under the hilt of her knife was barely louder than her panting. Once Canary gathered enough strips of fabric, she took a large square of fabric and folded it several times to create a press, and held it against her open wound with a groan. The bullet had gone through and through, and although it passed dangerously close to her lung, she didn’t hear any whistling sounds coming out of her wound.

Canary wrapped her makeshift bandages around herself as tightly as she could, knowing that it would be only a matter of time until her blood started to stain the cloth even further. She couldn’t sit still, though. She knew that the third man had been out for a while, and he would be back at any minute now. She was now too injured to hold a fight with an uninjured man who was probably also armed, while she only had a knife.

Despite the risk of blood loss being too great, it was still a fighting chance that she wouldn’t have if she just stayed idle. If she made it to a road with more traffic, she would be able to find help.

As she walked out of the cabin, she was faced with a difficult decision: should she walk on the road, or should she sneakily walk through the forest? She would be able to flag down a vehicle easier if she walked on the road. However, she would also be easily found by the third man. Besides, he was supposed to get another vehicle, so she may not recognize the danger until it becomes too late.

The forest would definitely hide her from view from the road, but it would be hard to navigate in it without having been able to see the road when they got there. She glanced down at her newly acquired shoes, courtesy of Baldie’s corpse. They were a couple sizes too big, but they would help protect her feet from the terrain.

Her wound stung, and she looked up at the sky. It was past noon now, and the sun felt nice on her skin. The wind made her shiver - she would have at least 4 hours of sunlight before she was consumed by the dark. She needed to find help before then.

Canary took a deep breath and marched forward, decidedly walking into the forest, unaware of Alan’s eyes trained on her. He had somehow avoided death, and managed to get up as she left, his weapon still in his hand. He wheezed and coughed as the taste of iron filled his mouth at the effort, but his entire body was fueled by rage. Pure adrenaline pumped through his veins as he gripped his gun and staggered after her.

Straight into the woods.

A/N: Canary made Charlie into a cushion pin for his own knife.

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hxltic · 9 months

Text

bein yelled at by ghost. you’ve been in the army this long, been yelled at by sergeants and others alike, majority men—obviously—but none of them like this. The others you didn’t even flinch as they screamed directly into your ears, probably even worse than other men just to intimidate you as a woman.

You caught him in a bad mood and it seemed completely unrelated to work, but as his partner and soldier, he had to tell you things that you didn’t want to hear.

“Hey, I got your message Simon, didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t let it happen again.” You place some things of yours down on the dresser as you enter his quarters. He’s standing there in thought, unreadable.

His mask is still on with his gear connected to his body.

“Damn right, you won’t.” He gruffs, heavy in his accent.

All you could do was question what this meant. Would he not let you do it again? Were you being thrown in a different squad?

“What does that mean?” You stop your moving for a direct answer. You almost took that personally.

He explains, “You made an impulsive decision that would have led to half our unit being taken out. The amount we sent to that building was more than usual.”

“I understand, and that was on me. In my defense though: it was a suggestion in the moment, one that the other members also formally agreed to. It wasn’t just me.” You giggle, even though you’re aware these aren’t giggling matters. You just needed to lighten the mood.

“There were 35 men in that building alone. Led by Gaz and König!”

He fully pronounced the words, turning to you aggressively. Had you known this was the severity of his mood, you never would’ve taunted him in any type of way. This was when he had to be your boss.

“I understand but-“

“It doesn’t matter who agreed! You are seen as a leader standing next to me and you introduced the idea. I cannot be there to stop you every time you do something stupid.” His eyes were laced with anger, an anger that arose out of the protection built for his squad over the years.

“Every time?”

He said that like you did something stupid every day. He’s had bad missions before too, and we should all just be happy everyone made it back safe. Well, maybe one or two. He quickly turns to you, but stays in his spot.

“Every bloody time. It’s the mission before that. Then that. You cannot keep jeopardizing this team.”

Despite the offense you took to his words, you understood him.

“I understand.” You speak. For the night, you split off into your own quarters, not wanting to anger him any more than you already have. You’ll just have to be better with your decisions. There’s more than just your life on the line now.

The next few days, you’ve been kind of stand off-ish, hoping he’d come to you when he was feeling so. Instead, you were all assigned a mission, one they’d put you in charge of. Naturally, you’d felt it best to prove yourself and win his attention back. He was still Simon, and you still loved him.

. .

You all returned back to base with a more than successful mission under your belt. This made you extremely happy, as it’s finally a good time to speak to him.

You approach his door, then knock. You never knock.

A deep, “Come in,” is all you get.

You walk in to him sitting at his desk, his back to the door.

“Hey,” is all you can muster. You’d had the balls to walk in, but Simon is still a scary man. Your hands come down from his shoulders to massage over his biceps.

“I’m sorry for the past few days. I hope I redeemed myself?” You try.

“Hm,” He grunts, standing from his desk and filing papers into the drawers. This made you a little wary.

“Are you feeling okay Simon?” You fiddle your fingers together as you watch him walk around to the other side of the table.

“Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Your hands drop. You’d expected something, or some type of praise. Instead, you got this.

“What’s wrong? I thought I did good this time?”

“Is there something you want?” He shoots back. You glance at him, then around the room, then the floor. “No? Alright then.” He continues on as if you aren’t there. You stand in disbelief.

“What has got you so upset Simon? You can talk to me.”

“Did ya come in my room with nothin to say? What are you here for?” he snaps back.

This was a knife in the heart. You’d been terrified of the business portion of your relationship engulfing the rest, but you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe it wasn’t you.

“Literally what is your problem?” You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. It didn’t feel right yelling at him.

You attempt to walk to his front, hoping that seeing your face would bring him some sense of calmness or bring him back down to Earth, but that was long gone. He’d lost all professionalism or softness.

Or maybe that was just it, and there was too much professionalism.

You reach him and plead, “Simon please, let me help y-“

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t need your goddamn help!”

His head whips around, and that was all it took for you to realize the severity of everything going on. You’d physically retracted back and flinched. It’d been a long time since you’d done that.

“What do you want?” He throws the pen he’d held to the wall, and if you could see, you’d say there was a visible dent. That was your second step back, and you only took more as he came forward powerfully, his frame enlarging with each step.

“I-“

“Do you want me to praise you for your fuckin’ job? Now that you’ve decided to take it seriously?” He growls.

This was completely untrue, it wasn’t easy getting into 141, and it didn’t take anything but seriousness. Despite this, it didn’t take away from how his voice seemed to reverberate through your bones. You were retreating from him the best you could, but you didn’t want to look away, afraid it’d make him angrier.

Your hands felt around behind you as you got closer and closer to the wall, but not before detecting a small table that almost had you stumbling backwards when you knocked it over. Along with some more pens, a vase fell, shattering about and leaving tiny shards for your feet to step on the one day you decided not to wear the house slippers Gaz always made fun of you for.

He could literally take your breath away, but the piercing sensation under you couldn’t compare to the expression he wore that was dripping with malice. You felt like prey under a predator, caged to the wall with nowhere to go.

Your back hit with a thump, your hands flying back to the wall but close to your figure. You’d wanted to put them between you two, hoping it’d prevent him from coming closer, but it wouldn’t work. So now you search for separation by forcing your cheek against the wall, eyes frantically darting back and forth between nothing in particular and the raging man towering over you. You don’t think you could look at him anymore.

You whisper, “S-Simon. Please-”

He was so close his breath was to your ear as he leaned over. You were scared. In fact, you’d spoke it so lightly, you don’t even remember if you did or if it was just a thought.

“This,” he was referring to today, “is absolute bare minimum. Your job is to take orders, then get it done with the least. Casualties. Possible. Do you understand me?” He enunciates every part of the sentence, every word, so deep and low but strong that you had no choice but for it to be engraved in your brain. He was infuriated.

You didn’t want to breath too hard, afraid it’d also upset him, so your shortness of breath had you quickly nodding. The last words had you trembling.

“Do you fuckin’ understand me?” His words seem to shake the room, booming loud and clear enough to make you flinch again and your eyes squeeze shut. It was even worse than before—you were terrified.

He made you feel like a little girl again, answering to her father that she could never seem to impress no matter what she did. That’s why she joined the army. So she could be in charge.

But it didn’t stop because your eyes had to blink open to reality, and the time bomb called a response was ticking, just like his already gone patience. It also didn’t stop things from getting blurry, and before you knew or could stop it, there was a tear gathering that eventually released to your cheek.

“Y-yes sir,” you whimper on unsteady breath, Closing your eyes in prayer he would retreat. He was there for a little longer, but once you felt his presence leave back into the heart of his room, you still didn’t move an inch. You eventually shuffled uncomfortably to the door, not even feeling okay enough to close it behind you. You dashed as fast as one could go with millions of tiny glass in their feet, and before tending to it, you shut your door and fell to your butt with your back pressed against it and cried.

It’d been so long since you’ve cried over this specific issue; you thought you’d left it behind you. You technically had, but it was reawakened. The mission fatigued you, and you were so exhausted, but the only reason you didn’t lay your head down in the bed and fall asleep was the glass that would distribute painfully throughout your sheets.

You wrapped your feet and slipped into the night with the occasional sob.

. .

Sometime in the night, your locked room was intruded, assumingely by the one man graced with a key. Large hands scooped you up effortlessly, before bringing your head to one shoulder. You felt warm lips seep into your forehead.

He whispered things to you, things you couldn’t hear, but your head was held protectively with his strong hand over your ear. You’d been rested in another bed, one that smelled like him. He removed the tape from your feet and actually cleaned your wounds before tucking you in and sliding in beside you.

He felt like he didn’t deserve it, the guilt enough to bring him to tears, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. So instead, he tucks your head into his body closer, praying the sleeping version of you would recognize this as an apology until the morning.

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