Ghost Call Of Duty - Tumblr Posts
cw // mentions of abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, she/her pronouns used for reader, alcohol use; idk if i like how this ended but here u go anyways give me feedback I am desperate
Simon’s high school sweetheart is a girl with a guitar and big dreams to get out of the shithole they call home. After she cleans his face up from yet another beating from his father, they settle underneath her sheets. He lets out a sigh of relief as his teenage muscles release tension the second his back hits the mattress. He pays no mind to the throbbing pain in his face as he tangles his fingers with hers, letting her kiss each of them with her soft lips.
“Promise that I’m gonna get us out of here,” she sleepily mumbles, her head resting on his shoulder. “Gonna make it big, then we’re out of here. Get a nice big house and a couple of dogs. They can have their own rooms,” she muses. Then, she falls asleep.
Simon doesn’t have the guts to tell her that he’s enlisted himself in the military. He leaves next week.
And she doesn’t find out until she comes home to find a handwritten letter on her pillow. With a curious look, she picks it up in her fragile hands, calloused fingertips brushing against the thin sheet of paper.
Hey love,
I wish I’d have told you that I was leaving, but I couldn’t bring myself to it. Ironic, yeah? Considering I’m supposed to be going to put my life on the line. Can’t even tell my bird that I’m leaving. The rage that I’m sure you’ll feel will be far scarier than any national security threat the world has seen. I don’t blame you though.
I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I promise that I’ll look for you the second I do. If you don’t want to see me, I get that. I know I won’t deserve it, but I hope you’ll give me a second chance anyway.
I love you, angel. I’ll have your songs on repeat in my head every night. I’ll never forget you.
I’m sorry.
Simon x.
And she tries so hard to forget him. She gets well into her twenties, feeling a bit silly for still thinking about her high school boyfriend. It’s not like she wants to be stuck for the rest of her life, but how do you forget about the only person you’ve ever truly loved?
She moves to Hollywood a year later. There’s a fancy record deal, and all she has to do is sign her name on the dotted line. No need to worry about the fine print that gives away her rights to her own music, all the songs that she wrote about the tall blonde brute of a boy that still hold her heart. It doesn’t take off. She reaches a small audience, but she doesn’t come anywhere close to playing sold out stadiums, even three more years into her deal.
By the time the fourth year is over, her contract ends, and her record label keeps her songs. She feels so alone and lost. She decides that the best choice is to get on the first flight back home, packing up a small suitcase and her guitar. Then, she’s back in the town she swore she’d pull herself (and Simon) out of, living with her parents, disappointment heavy on her shoulders.
She plays at the local pub every Tuesday and Thursday night, bartending every Monday through Saturday. It’s not a bad job. Some people recognize her from her failed career. Others recognize her as her father’s daughter.
He recognizes her the second she gets on the stage. She looks different than he remembered. Her hair is longer, and she’s just a smidge taller. Just a smidge. She’s still as beautiful as he remembers though. The second that her fingers strum against the strings of her guitar, her melodic yet soulful voice ringing through the pub, he knows he’s gonna be spending the rest of his life on his knees, begging her for forgiveness. She’s his deity.
He knows some of the songs. He mouths the words as she sings them. His mind flashes back to the day MacTavish and Garrick had caught him listening to her music, the little icon of her album on his phone screen as it played through his earbuds.
“Thought you’d like something a little louder,” Garrick chuckled. “A bit more aggressive.”
“Ye, L.T.,” MacTavish added. “Dinnae take ye for a big softie.”
But they didn’t know how much her voice brought him back down to earth. It soothed him, slowed his heartbeat. All of her songs were about him, and even if they were filled with angry and mournful lyrics, it still brought him comfort. She made him feel a little more human.
When her set ends, she packs up her things and heads behind the bar to begin her second job. His heart skips a beat as she walks over to him. “Need another?” She asks, nodding to his empty glass that once held whiskey.
He sighs and taps the glass on the bar top, nodding. When she turns around the grab the bottle, he grabs the fabric of his balaclava and tugs it off. Once she’s turned back around, she’s met with the sight of his scarred face. His hair is shorter. His eyes are somehow darker. They resemble the eyes of a man who’d seen so much more than anyone could comprehend. The bottle of whiskey almost slips from her hand.
“I’m sorry, dove,” he says, low and soft. Sincere. It’s all he can think of. “Wish I’d told you sooner, but I’m a coward.”
Tears brim her eyes as she looks at him in disbelief. She immediately puts the bottle down, and she’s scrambling to move around the bar. Once she’s in front of him, she reaches out to hold his face in her hands, as if he was a precious relic. He was. He was her precious relic. An artifact worthy of protecting with your life.
“Simon,” she whispers, her thumbs tracing over every scar she can find. Her mind thinks of every worst case scenario. “Simon…”
His hands reach up and take a gentle hold on her wrists. “I’m here,” he tells her. “I’m back home. You’re my home.”
She doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she crashes her body into his, her arms coming to wrap around his large body. He’s bigger. Much bigger. She imagines he’s been eating a bit better, working out much more than the boy she knew in high school. Tears fall down her face as she remembers the last time she’d seen him. “Don’t leave again,” she begs. “Not without warning.”
He wraps her arms around her waist, holding her like she could slip away any second. He won’t let her. “I won’t. I promise.”
I <3 this mask
nom nom nom human hot dogs nom nom
Normalize making y/n a bad bitch
Awe this is so cute ! 🤍
Sanrio 141!!! The sillies dressed as 141 today :D
Ghost [watching Y/N get drunk in their corner after a long mission] : Fuck you, Y/N
Y/N [definitely intoxicated] : Do it yourself, you coward
Ghost [knowing he'll remind this to you kindly tomorrow] : 💀
Texts w/ Your higher ups in Task Force 141
Getting caught skipping training sessions
Don’t hesitate to ask me for more 💖
Simon taking his time w u… ♡
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ really suggestive themes !! mdni ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
After a heated kiss, Simon pulls away, the breath he didn’t know he was holding escaping in a warm puff against your neck. He nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
He trails small, soft kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, each touch igniting sparks of desire as he explores every inch his lips can reach. Unbeknownst to you, his hand quietly traces the hem of your shirt, fingers teasingly slipping underneath the fabric, inching it up to reveal your stomach. He holds your shirt in place with one arm, creating a tantalizing barrier while his fingers roam freely across your skin, exploring the delicate curves and contours of your body.
The only sounds in the dimly lit room are the soft whispers of skin against skin and the gentle sighs escaping your lips as his kisses travel lower. The warmth of his touch sends a wave of heat through you, intensifying with each stroke.
Without warning, he swiftly pulls your shirt over your head, tangling your hair as he discards it carelessly to the edge of the creaky twin bed. His large hand glides over your chest, fingers brushing against the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly intertwining with the fabric before he squeezes gently, sending a thrill through you.
His touch is both possessive and reverent, as if he’s discovering a treasure he’s longed for. The way he caresses you makes your heart race, each squeeze and caress igniting an insatiable desire deep within. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he devotes himself to exploring every inch of your body, your pulse quickening with anticipation.
His breath hitches slightly, the sound barely audible but enough to send another wave of warmth cascading through you. His eyes, half-lidded and darkened with desire, drift over your now-exposed skin, lingering on the intricate lace of your bra as if committing every detail to memory. The intensity in his gaze is almost unbearable, making you feel as though his eyes alone are enough to set your body aflame.
With deliberate slowness, Simon trails his fingers down the center of your chest, grazing the valley between your breasts, the pads of his fingers featherlight against the delicate skin. The anticipation builds with each second, every touch of his hands leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His large hand slides down further, his thumb hooking beneath the edge of your bra, teasingly tugging at the lace. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Fuck...”
Without breaking the intensity of his gaze, Simon carefully pulls the straps of your bra off your shoulders, his fingers barely grazing your skin as they follow the delicate line of the straps down your arms. The lace falls away, and he discards it with a slow, deliberate motion. His hands now return to your body, palms pressing gently against your skin, his touch sending shivers of anticipation rippling through you.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing just below your collarbone, leaving a trail of searing kisses that moves downward, lower, as if he’s worshiping the very essence of you. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, each movement agonizingly slow, his lips savoring every inch as if he wants to imprint himself on your very soul. You arch into him instinctively, your body craving more, needing more.
His hand, rough but gentle, cups your breast, his thumb teasing the sensitive skin there, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. The room feels smaller, more intimate, as though time itself has slowed, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment. His movements are unhurried, as though he’s trying to memorize the way your body responds to him, the way your breath catches and your skin flushes beneath his touch.
Simon pulls back just slightly, his breath once again warm against your skin as his eyes roam over you, admiration and lust mingling in his gaze. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. There’s something almost reverent in the way he says it, like he’s been waiting his whole life to have you like this—slow, careful, and consumed by the moment.
Collab with fluff_fae on tweeter for the Ghoap server Equinox event
went with some winter soldiered Soap working for Konni group :3
because we love to hurt <3
HIIIIYYAA CHAT GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT HOW TWO POST 🔥🔥
first time in a hot minute i drew trad yooooo
this is SO simon riley coded
SOAP BEING CLINGY
This man has given me back the desire to draw after months of not being able to do so. Bless him.
[Sketch]
𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴/𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵 :((.
𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘰! 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳.
"𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢." 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. "𝘛-𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶..." 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴, "𝘚𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
𝘏𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘔𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 :((.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵!
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘢' 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢?"
"𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
"𝘎𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰! 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!
"𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
"𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢."
𝗦𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀/𝗼 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗺𝗮! <𝟯𝟯
Lol simon would send u some texts and then when u call him back this mf be like “talk to me, mama😊”
OMG YES THAT’S SO TRUE! I picture his texts smt like this:
“Mama answer the phone.” “Mama pick up.”
“Mama?”
And then when you eventually call him back, you hear faint rustling in the background and heavy breathing. “Simon?” A low groan and a “Talk to me mama, how was your day?”
You’re still suspicious but still proceed to yap about your day and whatnot. Soon enough you feel like your talking a bit too much for your liking, “Si? You still there?” you mumble softly waiting for a response but all you get is a moan in return. “Fuck, mama. Got me so damn hard. Need your tight fucking cunt around my fat cock.” And you whine, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Fuck mama, can’t wait to get home and fuck dumb.”
“Gonna fill you up so good with my load. You’ll have all my babies, won’t you, mama?”
“Gonna knock you up so good, mama.”
Let’s just say that was by far the most interesting sex call conversation you’ve had with him this month.
-Nany 🩷
Just thinking Simon "Ghost" Riley with freckles, but not really noticeable freckles, you'd have to get really close to see them. But it's the cutest thing ever when you're kissing, and he blushes real hard and you notice his small freckles. And he just starts to blush even more when you stroke his cheeks, slowly counting how many he has. Just after you finish counting the ones on his face he says.
"There's still much more in other places, baby."
Y/n in a barbie voice: "I think I'll go study abroad, Ken!"
Ghost in a rough voice: "No Barbie, you're staying home and having my kids."
Soap: "What the fuck."