#simone riley

[gavramous]

i'm coming out as an agender!ghost truther <3

[certainlynotasimp]

I just finished Haunting Adeline and now I have an idea of one of the COD characters being a stalker while also following the main story line of the games with them just dropping into the darling’s house and being like,

“Don’t forget that I’m always watching, little mouse…I’ll always be watching you squirm under my gaze until you’re begging for me to stop…or begging for more.”

[ghostlychief]

He’s babygirl fr <3

[junosbugs]

0.4

fireside

0.4

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

warnings: alcohol, mentions of kidnapping, dead animal, slow burn, accurate description of london streets, ginger Male.

a/n: guys i love a good slow burn just bear with me please.

0.4

0.4

“It’s not like I'm asking for a lot, like how hard can it be?” Dan went on. The second his shift started, he couldn’t stop talking about his latest entanglements and to be quite frank, Iris was not having any of it today. Her attention was captivated by the four men hidden in the back of the booth in the corner of the room. 

Irise was wiping down the dirty counters, while Dan refilled cabinets with liquor bottles below her rambling on about what else his lover did. She had zoned out his words, trying to eavesdrop on the booth at the other side of the room. 

By now it had been three nights since Kyle had walked her home, and since that night he had made an unspoken promise to walk her home. Even if his friends decided to leave their work earlier, Kyle always found his designated seat at the end of the counter watching the girl find herself in a routine. He stayed entranced by her movement, her words, her charisma that she shared with everyone.

On the second night they walked home in silence. No words spoken other than simple pleasantries and while neither of them realized, they were both content with just that. 

“Iris!” 

“What!” 

“Are you even listening to me?” Dan narrowed his eyes at the raven haired girl. Iris looked back at the red head, forcefully tearing her eyes off the booth. 

“No.” Shrugged Iris as she gripped on to her towel rag. 

A groan escaped the ginger's lips, standing up to his full size. “Can you listen so you can tell me if I’m being rational?” He questioned. Stepping away from him, Iris tossed the dirty rag away in a basket full of already dirty rags. “You’re never the rational one, Danny.” 

“Iris please.” 

She threw her hands up in the air as a sign of defeat, “Okay fine.” She leaned her hip onto the end of the counter as she looked ahead at Dan. With just her luck, Kyle and his friends were right behind him. 

She fought everything within her to not analyze and document their every move. His every move.

She filtered her eyes back up to Dan, working her hardest to focus on just him; however, she found eyeline faltering in his direction. It was like he had placed a magnetic trance on him.   

Dan's soon insistent voice became a distant noise filtering to the background music playing in the pub. Kyles every move became a movement she needed to memorize. The way his brows furrowed, creating patterned creases on his forehead. He scratched an itch with the back of his thumb and alway let the lip of the glass hover over his lip before hugging it tightly. 

“Oh my god,” Dan's voice broke her from the haze, “You like Kyle.” 

“What?” Iris’s head snapped in the direction of the red haired boy, a look of disgust radiated off her. “No I don’t.” She shook her head.

Dan looked back at the booth, “I would have pegged you as more of a masked man, but I understand the boyish crush.” He nodded in approval, as if she needed his approval. 

Iris simply scoffed, picking up a new clean rag. “I’m going to go clean the empty tables and wait for some tables.” She made her way out of the back of the bar. 

“Don’t get distracted.” 

“Shut up Dan!” 

Iris found therapy within the movements of cleaning. The motions were mechanical and organic in ways that fit perfectly despite the oxymoron. She wiped down each empty table, till she finally found herself nearing the corner of the bar. The booth. 

“Where was she last seen again, again?” Soaps' voice rings up in Iris’s ears. The girls slowed her movements as she tried to focus her ears best on the table a few feet down. 

“Harley Street,” Ghosts gruff voice came up for the first time, “Found her car parked down a few blocks on Devonshire Street.” 

Ghost rarely spoke, rarely interacted with those around him that weren’t a part of the group curated around him. This had been the most she had heard him say in one sitting. 

Iris moved on to another table full of dirty dishes allowing her movements to slow down just a bit, ears perking at the voice of Kyle, “Says here she felt like she was being watched. What do we know about that?” 

“Right well, we have reports of a few phone calls but the trace went blank. Husband assumed it was an affair.” Price’s voice came up, “A few days later she received a package of a dead rat, with this image in it.” 

Iris gripped on to the rag in her hand, fighting the urge to glance over at the table. She wiped down the table and cleared away any dishes with an ironclad grip, her attention fully formed by the conversation unfolding at the booth. The mention of a mysterious phone call and a disturbing package spiked a curiosity in her that she wanted to feed. 

“She wasn’t the only one taken,” Price's voice cut in, “Selena Bristol, Laurel Wells, Cherlene McKormick. What do these names all have in common?”

“These are well known women from socialite families.” Soaps voice muffled against his hand which now leaned over his mouth. 

She finished cleaning the table in front of her, not being able to contain the thoughts swirling in her head. There was not much Iris could do to keep her ears latched onto the conversation. Moving from the table in front of her back to the bar their voices became murk. She placed the empty dirty dishes into the back of the kitchen for the busboy to clean up.

When making her way back, she was shocked to see Kyle sitting at his designated stool at the bar and Dan was talking to him. The rest of his friends had started making their exits out of the bar, sending farewells and pats on the back. Kyle waved them goodbye, 

“And here is your lucky lady.” Dan exclaimed, a mischievous grin played on his face that only Iris caught as he gestured over to the girl. Iris froze in her tracks, an odd sensation running through her as she looked at the man seated in front of her. 

Kyle smiled tenderly at the girl in front of him, “Hey Iris,” His gaze was soft towards her, “How’s the night treating you?” 

Iris stepped forward, getting together any last minute clean up duties that needed to be done before her shift was over. “Same old, same old, you know?” 

She glanced up at him. This time she allowed her eyes to roam, he had a baseball cap resting on his head of hair. He wore a dark green jumper that hugged his body in a comforting manner, his arm rested on the top of the bar with an empty glass gripped in his hands. “I see you’ve been occupied with Dan's rambling.” She smiled up at him, gesturing back to Dan. “I could apologize for his behavior, but the most I could do is offer a free drink.” 

A melodic laugh escaped his lips, “No need to apologize, Dan’s an interesting-”

“Hey!” Dan exclaimed. 

“Entertaining! An entertaining character.” Kyle explained back to the man behind Iris, who was finishing off his closing duties. Iris chuckled at the banter between the two. The air between them changed as the laughter settled between them. There was a tense ambiance between them that could be cut by a knife. 

Iris grabbed another clean rag from the side of the bar, beginning to clean what was already a clean counter. That’s where Iris was reminded of the empty glass in his hands. Pointing to the glass, “Did you want a refill?” 

Kyle’s brows furrowed, realizing she was gesturing towards the glass in his hands. “Oh umm, no I’m okay.” He smiled. That same feeling in the air was back, it was tight and stiff. Instinctively, Iris’s hands tightened around the clean rag held in her hand. 

Iris broke the silence by blurting out a very stupid question, “So, what were you and the guys discussing back there? It seemed really intense.” 

Kyle's soft gaze hardened at the question, making Iris curse at her own impulsiveness. “Oh, just work related stuff.” His other hand wrapped around the same empty glass while his finger danced around the rim. “Wouldn’t want you to worry.”

“You’re probably right. I don't really handle stress that well.” Iris shrugged, tossing the dirty rag in the basket. She grabbed her bag from under the bar counter, along with her jacket. 

“Dan, you’re closing.” She spoke back to the red head. Slipping on her jacket she stepped out from behind the counter and made her way next to Kyle. The proximity that they stood in was intoxicating for Iris. She placed her hand around his bicep, gently pulling him up from the stool he sat at. She nodded in the direction of the door with a soft gaze, “Walk me home?”

[applbottmjeens]

Fem!Ghost/Simone Riley being the woman of my DREAMS

(uncensored version available on my Patreon)

[auserath]

This was made a little while ago but I'm still proud of it :]

[mcntsee]

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.

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[robinthisbank]

TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. “B-but they’re not canon 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😖😖” honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow

[thephantomsdream]

Can't stop thinking about Captain John Price, your good friend's boyfriend, listening to you talk about how you are considering getting a guard dog, and he whole-heartedly agrees with you. John likes you, you're a fantastic friend to his dove and you're sweet, and sweet girls do need protection. So he nods along and tells you he'll look into getting you one, a big one to protect you.

Two weeks later, you're invited to your friend's house, her telling you days before that John might have gotten you a dog, so to prepare! She wasn't sure, he just hinted at it on the phone.

Tell me why, after knocking at your bestie's door, she opens kinda pale and awkward, maybe even a little bit annoyed, inviting you in. Instead of a proper, legit, literal dog, John introduces you to Simon Riley, who stands there awkwardly but tall and intimidating while your friend apologizes, calling her boyfriend an idiot. But John isn't an idiot. For a while now, he thought you'd be perfect for his Lt., this just a funny way to introduce you both. And the only thing that took Simon to agree (after a sharp yet bored no when firstly asked) was to send him a picture of you at a bar, smiling.

Extra:

"So... you come with a leash?" You joke with the tall man, whose eyes wrinkle in amusement. He has been more on the silent side although very atentive, his intense brown eyes on you all evening. Now that you were both alone at the balcony, abandoned by the two love-birds, you tried to ease the tension.

"I don't do leashes but I can pull a spiky collar." He smiles as you giggle. Hell, he felt relief that you did. Even happiness...

"Yeah, it would fit you."

"Yeah?" His voice was low and buttery. "What about a tag with your name on it?" He leans down a little, just enough in your personal bubble, and your stomach flipped. You felt your cheeks warm.

"Can it be heart shaped?" You stare prettily at him and all he can do is to snort to ease the tension.

"However you want it." His reply was quick, eager.

"Deal. But first take me on a proper date."

"Perfect." He smirks.

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[ghostlychief]

posting a request tn!

[junosbugs]

0.2

fireside

0.2

kyle “gaz” garrick 

warnings: alcohol ???

0.2

Dan was sick. Not sure if it was contagious or not, Iris offered to take over his side of the bar. Tuesdays were slow anyway. 

By now, three weeks had passed since her first two, since she had met Kyle, or Gaz. Still unsure what his real name was. That didn’t mean she saw him any less. Every so often he would come in and sit at the same booth in the back of the room, located in a dusty corner, away from the music, from the people. Sometimes he would come with his entire group of what you assumed were friends. Sometimes he came with new people. But he was never alone. 

“Could I get an order of chips, doll?” A voice came from the side of the bar, a man with a full head of hair, slim, but old, held up his card which was delicately placed in between his fingers. 

“Ya, let me go put your order in. Would you like me to open up a tab?” Iris strode over to the man, writing down the order onto a notepad. It wasn’t necessary at all, it was just fries, but she wanted to. Enjoyed the formality of the rules. 

“No need, dollface.”

Iris could only let out a huffed chuckle. 

“One order of fries!” She yelled into the kitchen window, sliding over the now ripped out page from her notepad that only held the words ‘one plate of fries.’ 

Dollface. Pet names were odd. Some days it made Iris hurl in disgust. Other days it made her want to curl up on the tacky wooden tiles, wishing she had her father to whisper them in her ear again on a summer day. 

Dollface was new, but it didn’t remind her of her dad. 

Iris took the card from the man's hand, handing him the receipt when she was done. She was quick. 

Just then, a creak followed the opening of the front door. In came that same group of four men. The Scottish man, who Iris had learned was named after a cleansing product, came walking in first sending a small wave in her direction, slowly making his way up to the edge of the bar. Behind him walked Ghost, the man with the mask directing himself to the same booth they always went to; Kyle and the other man, Price, followed. 

“Alright bonnie, how are ya?” Soap spoke, leaning his forearms on the table in front of him. 

“Good,” Iris stated simply.

“Here are those fries you asked for.” The man behind the kitchen window said as he placed the plate down. 

“Thanks Benny,” Iris called into the window, grabbing the plate on the sill. She looked back at Soap while walking up to the slim man seated and waiting patiently. “Can I get you boys anything?” She said, placing the plate down. 

"Just a couple o' whiskies fer the lads. And hey, maybe an espresso martini fer the wee fella, eh?" Soap leaned forward, not exactly whispering his last sentence. Iris laughed, shaking her head. 

‘Sorry Soap, but not today. Dan’s not here, so it’s just me. Maybe another time.” Iris said, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and four glasses underneath her. 

"He won't admit it tae ye noo, bon, but he did like it." Soap added in a hushed tone. 

Iris smiled, placing the full glasses of whiskey on a tray, “Of course he did,” she stated matter of factly, sliding over the tray to the Scottish man in front of her. 

‘Open a tab fer me, Bonnie?” Soap questioned grabbing the trays in front of him. 

“Will d.  Enjoy the rest of your night.” 

As Soap made his way back to the booth, Iris stole a quick glance in his direction. Her eyes locked on Kyle’s as a smile graced his lips in acknowledgement. She smiled back, turning to another customer. 

The rest of the night went smoothly, Iris fighting her urges to glance back at their booth. But maybe she just wasn't fit for it. With every glance, she was left with a pit of disappointment in her stomach, the four men were deep in work, papers and folders scattered around, their glasses empty now. Iris wondered if it would be okay for her to go back there and ask about a refill, but she felt she would be interrupting something. 

Iris wasn’t a people pleaser per say. But working the job that she did, she learned that when people like you, they treat you human; most of the time, they did give nice tips. 

The clock now read 11, almost 12, which was closing. Iris couldn’t say her legs ached, but the dull feeling that laid heavy in her heels slowled her movements. She couldn’t wait until she was home, laying in her creaky bed. Even with the growing feel of uncomfort, a smile still danced on her lips for the remainder of the customer. 

Slowly, she started to tidy up behind the bar, knowing the kitchen was already clean. She had the fortunate opportunity to say no to any customers wanting food, having to deal with the mumbling spells of irritations escaping their lips. All she could give was a smile, their tab, and a wishing them a safe rest of their night. 

‘Thirty more minutes,’ she thought, tilting her head, holding back a silent groan that rumbled in her throat. The only people left lingering were two older men playing a game of cards on a table with almost empty beers in their hands, and the four men hiding in the back of the bar in their designated booth. The four of them were still locked in a deep and tense conversation. Again, she fought the urge to walk over to them, to say something, anything. 

Iris wasn’t sure where the desire to disturb them came from. Never had she had the urge to interrupt a customer, interject in their company, insist for their attention; but they were not ordinary customers. They weren’t regulars either, but she had a pitiful feeling dancing around her stomach that pulled whenever she looked in their direction that grew when he never glanced back. 

11:42

The bar was clean, she wasn’t serving anymore and didn’t expect herself to serve if someone asked. She was done for the night. The kitchen was clean and empty, Sherry's office standing still with the lights off; she knew she would be closing tonight.  

She strode up to the two men, still immersed in the game in front of them. “Alright boys, sorry to interrupt but I believe it's time for me to close up.” She smiled tightly, hand inching towards what were presumably empty beer bottles. But the man to her right snatched the bottle away before her finger tips could touch the cool glass. 

“We ain't done yet, pretty face.” He grumbled, not looking away from his card. The man across from him tossed a card into the pile in front of him, disregarding Iris’s presence once. 

Iris smiled at the two men, not caring if they weren’t looking. She had to act the part, right? She couldn’t afford pissing two grown men off, especially when closing on her own. 

Turning back, she prepared the tabs for the two parties, hoping it would move time quicker for her. Before she could make her way towards the booth hidden in the corner, a tray full of empty glasses was placed gently on the counter. 

Price stood in front of her, pulling out his wallet from his large camel-colored jacket. This time she didn’t fight any urge, glancing back at the booth, watching how the other three men fumbled out of the booth while organizing the papers in front of them. 

“Her, to close the tab.” Price’s gruff voice came out with narrow eyes facing Iris, silently watching her take the card he placed on the bar counter. With a simple nod, Iris got ready to close off the tab and send the four men home. Her eyes glanced back at the two men still stuck in their game. Her eyes lingered on them for a bit before a sigh escaped her lips, shaking her head in frustration. She looked up at the clock placed over Prices’ head. 

11:58 

Handing over the receipt to the older man, Iris mumbled a somewhat cordial farewell before grabbing the last tab for the night, long strides headed in the direction of the two men. She placed the tab in front of them. 

“I am very sorry, however we are closing in three minutes. Could I take your bottles?” Iris spoke with a tight smile. Really she just wanted to cry. She never liked difficult customers, but she didn’t like being rude to them. Not that they didn’t deserve it. There were too many consequences when being rude and Iris struggled to avoid them. So she simply placed it nicely. 

“In a minute.” One of the gruffed. A cry almost escaped her lips. Her legs ached now, that dull feeling only growing. It was dark out, and she never enjoyed closing during a weekday. 

“I'm sorry sir, but there are only two minutes left till closing. I would greatly appreciate it if you at least let me take your bottle.” Sincerity wrapped around her voice. Maybe a little bit of desperation too. She didn’t try to hide it either. 

Profanities lodged in her throat. She smiled tightly, nodded and stepped away from the table, maybe to stop herself from knocking it over. Could she knock it over? 

With quick steps, she made her way over to the booth in the corner, maybe to waste time till closing, or maybe it was to finally interrupt the game they were playing and finally push them out the door.

She looked over at the booth. It was clean. The three of them lingered around the table, putting their jackets on. Iris grabbed the rag that was hidden inside the small pocket of her apron and began wiping down the already clean table. 

Would she have to call the cops to get them to leave? Certainly not, but maybe just an implication of a phone call would work, hopefully scare them off. 

A familiar Scottish voice interrupted her train of thought, locking her out of her of the conversation playing in her head. 

“Need a ride, bonnie?” Soap asked from the side, Price now joining. 

Iris just shook her head, “It’s fine, I have to wait for those two to leave and I fear they might overstay their welcome.” Nodding over in the direction of the now irritating men still playing their game. 

In a moment of despair and frustration, Iris groaned in annoyance tilting her head slightly to the side, which only reminded her how exhausted she was.

 “What could they be playing, for fucks sake.” This earned a chuckle from the four brooding and tall men. 

12:00

Iris took a deep breath in, ready to tell the two it was time to wrap up, this time with more vigor. Why did Iris hesitate? Just yell at them already. 

“Oi! Bars closed! Go home.” Kyle bellowed towards the men as they made their way out the door. 

“Another minute won’t hurt.” One of them waved him off. Kyle walked up with Iris as they made their way towards the table. Ghost, Price, and Soap lingered by the door, watching silently. 

“Oi lads, just go home, it’s late. I am pretty sure we could all use a good night's rest.” Kyle groaned, leaning his palms at the edge of their table now. Iris lingered behind, not wanting to interfere till they got up. In all honesty, she couldn’t find herself interacting with the two men without fighting back the urge to spew irritated insults at them. 

Placing the cards down on the table, one of them locked eyes with Kyle, “And what? You’ll call the police?” 

Kyle shuffled a bit in front of Iris. Moving his coat jacket a bit, she wasn’t sure what was happening, blinded by the backside of his body. Whatever was shown was enough for them to get up quickly. A stifled laugh escaped Soap which Iris was sure she imagined. 

The men grabbed their cards, stacking them and shoving them into their pockets. Leaving a few twenty dollar bills on the table, they made a beeline for the door, not sparing a second glance at the four intimidating men. 

Iris let out an exhale of relief. Reaching over to grab the empty beer bottles, she quickly wiped down the table with the rag in her free hand. Nudging Kyle with the back of her occupied hand, she breathed out, “I could use you for the closing shift more often.” 

Only thing that escaped his lips was a small chuckle, followed by Price’s voice, “You sure you don’t need a ride home, dear?” 

Iris tossed out the beer bottles and smiled up at the men still hovering by the door, Ghost's hand resting on the knob. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry. Enjoy the rest of your night.” She collected the trash, and grabbed her bag from under the counter. Kyle looked back at the three men that slowly made their way out of the bar. 

You guys go ahead,” was all he said before the creaking of the door began singing its song as they left one by one. 

“Let me walk you home.” He shifted his body towards the girl behind the counter, buttoning up her jacket.

“It’s okay, really. Go home.” 

“Please,” Kyle dragged out.

Iris leaned over and picked up the trash bag near her, opening her mouth to say something. 

“Dont, ‘Maybe another time’ me.” The man interjected, quickly leaning over to grab the trash bag secured in her hands. She smelled his cologne. A girl like her wasn’t well versed with the scents of a man, but she knew he smelled warm. She fought with herself again, knowing she lost already. 

Her grip around the trash bag loosened, letting Kyle relieve the weight on her fingers. 

“Okay,”

[applbottmjeens]

Fem!Ghost reveal (and her lil boyfriend too)

just imagine this tall lady with tattoos and a skull mask who's got a super soft n cute face under there EEEE

(i cannot wait to draw more simone and august tbh)

[bi-writes]

ok ok how about mute?ghost who you aren't sure if he's actually mute or if he just chooses not to say anything. you hear a different answer from everyone you ask. (18+)

ever since mexico, wouldn't say a fucking word.

nah, mate, he's been zipped shut since he enlisted.

heard it was a mad accident.

what you mean? heard him telling off privates not even a year ago!

well, since you're a certified yapper, and ghost can't (won't) tell you to shut up, you make him your living diary. whenever you see him around, you sit next to him, stop by his office, hop up onto his desk and talk to him. you tell him about your day, about the recruits that bother you the most, about the meals in the mess hall being worse on saturdays than on mondays (fuck, you'd think the weekend would put some pep in their step, no?).

but gosh, when ghost finally had you seated in his lap with your pants around one ankle, you really weren't expecting to hear him.

pussy-drunk, tongue out, hands gripping your ass as he listens to the wet smack of your thighs against his, and that's all it takes for him to let out the filthiest groan you've ever heard, enough to make you spiral, see red-hot stars, to shake and cry until you're cumming and babbling and even more incoherent.

when they talk about ghost, you still keep your mouth shut. you're still not sure if he talks, fuck if i know, is what you say.

but if you suck his cock just right, you're certain he's singing.

[mcntsee]

me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst