#mw2 angst

[yawnderu]

Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Ghost w/ a Zombie! S/O

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Descriptions of Smut, Ghost Losing His Mind, Implied Unprotected Sex, Parasitism, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

We’ve all heard of Zombie! Ghost with a human companion, but consider the inverse: human! Ghost who is afflicted with a human s/o who has the virus.

He keeps you locked up in his basement, coming to feed you any meat he can find. Anything to stave off your inevitable rot.

Simon sits with you, talks with you, tries to remind you of who he is – who you were.

Sometimes, he’s sure he can see the glimmer of recognition in your eyes. Others, he’s almost certain he’s lost you entirely.

There are times where he misses your touch, your gasps, the way you would call his name whenever he gave himself to you.

His deepest secret is that he still thinks he can hear you now. Now, as he has your mouth gagged and arms bound, balls-deep inside you, pumping his hips against yours.

He calls your name, thinks he can hear you call his back, looks you dead in the eyes while he’s making love to you.

You still take him so well despite how cold you are. You bring him to a spasming, throbbing, white-hot end that leaves his voice straining, crying your name amidst the throes of his orgasm, his head hanging in the crook of your shoulder while he empties his load inside you.

He half expects your hands to card through his hair, for your lips to meet the sweat-soaked skin of his forehead, for your face to light up with a hazed smile when his eyes find yours.

When he looks down at you, though, panting and pushing himself up onto muscular arms, he sees none of that. Feels none of that.

Your eyes are milky and you writhe beneath him, trying to unbind your hands to grab him, scratch him — anything.

He can see you gnawing on the rope about your mouth, no doubt the sensation of his skin between your teeth on your parasite-infested mind.

He knows he’s utterly mangled. His mind won’t let you go.

And neither will he.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[juicybvns]

Simon x fem reader

A/n: Ghost angst usually hits the best

—

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who thinks about you the whole 4 months he was deployed

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who’s heart aches just thinking about his wife is all alone and been expecting him since last month

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who stares at the door nervous to walk in but excited to see you maybe cuddling a cup of coffee on the couch like your usual morning routine

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who’s eyes burn a bit, rimming with tears under his mask when he sees you almost spill your coffee when you look towards the door

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who drops his bag and and lifts his mask up when you stand up and stumble to him

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who squeezes you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who holds your head against his shoulder and he closes his eyes to let it sink in that he’s finally home

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who breathes in your scent when a tear drops from his eye

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who hears your sniffle and brings you’re head face to face with him while he looks into your eyes and smiles

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who kisses you like he would never see you again, taking away your breath

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who then gently brings his forehead to yours and says “I missed you so much, love.”

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who kisses you again and guides you to the bedroom

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who lays you down and removes his shirt by grabbing it from the back and bringing it over his head

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who shows you how much he missed his wife by giving you hours of pleasure and his undevoted attention

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who, a few weeks later drops to his knees to hug your stomach when you tell him your pregnant

Husband! Simon Ghost Riley who promises to love, cherish, and protect his new and long wanted family <3

[bubblygumi]

Her first words.

hi again! i’m back with a second post, and as before, please excuse any errors as english is not my first language, thank you. enjoy.

˚♡ sincerely, bubbly.

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

pairing : Father! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x deceased Reader

genre : angst, slight comfort.

CW : S/O loss, parent loss, grief and guilt. please proceed with caution if this sounds like something that would trigger you.

little note from the author : Your daughters name is Riley Y/L/N.

Simon had always had problems sleeping, even before he had his little girl. He always had nightmares that plagued his mind. Of death, of his time in the military, of his past, the possibilities were endless with everything he had gone through. Getting up at night was never an issue, it’s not like he slept anyways, not with the terrors in his mind.

His eyes shot open as he heard a familiar cry echoing through their home, a silent sigh passing by his lips as i got up from his bed to check on the little one. He entered her room, the cries getting louder as he approached the fragile baby in the crib.

He picked her up into his arms, remembering the first time he held her when she was delivered. He was terrified, holding her with those same hands that had blood stained over them, he couldn’t taint her innocence like that and resorted to wearing gloves for the first few months of caring for her.

But not now, skin to skin with his crying daughter as he gently tried to coax her to calm down. Minutes went by, and then some more without any luck. He had tried everything he could think of, bouncing her gently up and down, caressing her, giving her small kisses, checking her diaper, he couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

Simon was almost at his breaking point, the lack of sleep and his daughter’s loud cries were overwhelming, why couldn’t he do this? Simon went back to blaming himself, he’s a terrible father.

Tears stung his eyes as he prepared a bottle for Riley, her sobs and wailing in the background as he mindlessly went over the same exact procedure. He couldn’t let the tears slip, approaching her and sighing out of relief went she finally calmed down, suckling on the bottle for the milk.

“That’s my girl.” He said, a loving calm tone he always used for his daughter. The gruff voice long gone, always as soon as he entered their home.

He chuckled bitterly when Riley grimaced, “Not into the formula too much eh?” He sighed once again, this time not of relief, “Mommy’s milk was better huh? I know, i miss her too.” Gone, taken away too quickly. Simon was left alone with Riley and Y/N never had a chance of being there with them.

Y/N had always wanted children, Simon remembers the good old days where she would show him baby videos and cute baby clothes to try and give him as much baby fever as she had. It had worked of course, Simon now had a daughter he adored more than anything.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt away as he watched his daughter drink from the bottle. How could he ever be enough for her? Without Y/N, what was he supposed to do? Did Riley hate him?

The tears that stung his eyes before finally let go, one or two running down his cheeks. He pulled the bottle away from his daughters lips, gently wiping away the remains of the milk on her chin before wiping his own tears away. His baby girl would always come first.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to her, placing a kiss on top of her soft head, she looked so much like her mother. It was like she could feel his energy, frowning on her small face that usually was filled with smiles.

She reached out, her small hands grabbing onto anything she could of her Dada. And then she said it, something that immediately washed away all of Simon’s worries and guilt, her first words.

‘Dada!’

It echoed in Simon’s mind, replaying it as he looked at her in disbelief. He couldn’t believe it, did she really say that? Her very first words at 11 months old, soon to be 12.

A smile broke out on both of their faces, mirroring each other in a clearly loving gaze. “Dada? That’s right! That’s me!” Simon exclaimed, proudly, and almost a little too loudly but Riley just giggled.

He picked at up, placing another kiss on her soft cheek as he carried her back to her crib. He gently put her down, looking at her adoringly as she fell back to sleep.

The smile never faded from his lips as he went back to his own bed, and for the first time, he soundly fell asleep. No nightmares as usual where he would wake up in cold sweat, a well deserved, sound sleep where he dreamed of all three of them being together as a happy family.

Only for the dream to end in sorrow when he woke up, bed empty, missing the mother of his child.

[prettyoatmeal]

pls pls pls pls pls

i need more FWB simon 😭😭

We're Just Friends (FWB!Simon x GN!Reader)

A/N: You need it anon, you got it!! I need to write more hurt/comfort because damn I loved writing this. Post anon is referring to.

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: You and Simon have established a friends-with-benefits relationship. But the boundaries set in place keep getting overstepped. Your brain his confused, Simon's heartstrings are getting pulled back and fourth, and it isn't exactly your fault. Simon's in denial, and that barrier slowly starts to break.

Word Count: 770

Masterlist here!

***************

"You seemed awfully touchy with others tonight."

"Simon-"

"I don't like the way they were looking at you."

"Are you jealous?"

He grumbled against your skin, feeling his lips pressing small kisses along the crook of your neck through the fabric of his mask. Pushing you further into the countertop in front of you, his grip on your hips was becoming more possessive by the second.

No matter how many times you would tell him, it seemed like it didn't really matter. You two weren't a couple, you're allowed to do your own thing, even if you weren't really trying to. He had a bit of a habit of becoming too touchy or affectionate to your liking in regards to your arrangement, and now it was especially showing through after a little get-together at his flat.

"Relax, they weren't looking at me in any way. And I'm allowed to explore my options."

"I know.. jus' like you to myself sometimes. That's all."

This was becoming too confusing. For yourself, and for him. You'll push him away, remind him your situation isn't longterm, that you're doing this for him and that if someone comes along then you're allowed to pull out. But you couldn't help but think that maybe there was something more that he wasn't telling you. No matter how many times he'll deny it, it was getting a little obvious.

Too obvious.

The way you unintentionally tugged on his heartstrings over and over again, the effect you had placed on him was getting too much to ignore.

Pulling the infuriating fabric of his mask down and breathing in your scent with a long sigh, it was clear he wasn't going to let you go. Not yet at least. Placing the small porcelain dishes into the sink which you had been holding, you turned the tap on to start cleaning them. May as well make yourself useful if you weren't going to move, the clean smell of his dish washing liquid filling your senses.

But as his face nuzzled further into your soft skin, he couldn't get enough of you, his hands gripping at the flesh of your hips, squeezing your waist and pulling you as flush against him as he could. He didn't like the dish washing liquid drowning you out. He was becoming needy, mumbling a few words which only become muffled against you.

But you already got the feeling you knew what he said.

"Don't-" You warned. But he didn't want to listen, cutting you off.

"Please, lovie," he lifted his face from your neck just enough so you could hear him, "please stay. Just one night, just tonight."

He sounded upset almost, his pleading voice lingering with something more than just neediness.

Normally this would've gone no where, but something was telling you to stay. And you weren't sure if it was yourself, or the forces of nature. You knew that accepting will only play with his heart further. You were cruel for promising him you'll stay. But how could you say no to him sounding so sickeningly desperate.

This was getting unhealthy.

"Fine," you answered him reluctantly, "but just this once."

You were pulled away from the sink, and in a matter of minutes, the make-out session had ensued on his bed. A bed that smelled so comfortingly of him. You expected the usual -sloppy kisses followed by your guts getting rearranged by the behemoth of a man on top of you. But that wasn't his plan.

His lips moved slowly against yours, kissing you in the dimmed lights of his bedroom as if he loved you, and left your heart and head confused.

"Need you," he whispered against your plump lips, "I need you like.. like this." laying next to you, his arms wrapped around you with his head pressing against your chest, "please."

All you did sigh and hold him close. It felt wrong. You hoped this wouldn't also become a habit, burying himself closer to your warmth.

"This wasn't part of our agreement."

Silence. His arms around you tightened.

"You're playing with my head."

Silence again.. but this time it was followed by a muffled grumble into the fabric of the Nirvana shirt he gave you for pyjamas, which was considerably oversized on you. Throughout his protests, you could make out a small whine of 'I'm sorry'.

And with a sigh, you reach over to his bedside table to turn the lamp off, cradling his head closer to you as you placed a small kiss on the top of his head.

"Goodnight, Simon. Sweet dreams."

***************

<33 happy November 21st! <3

[apollodarling-writes]

Please please please, a ghost x fem!reader fic where medic reader is on the field for some reason and reader gets injured because simon makes a miscalculation and everyone is told they’re gonna die (but she makes it through in the end) but like the TORMENT AND SELF TORTURE PLEASEEEEEE

Also can you do it like a confirmed secret relationship (like not a crush or situationship)

I wanna see angst and hurt and simon blaming himself and losing it but reader comforting him at the enddd

tws: gore, injury, near-death, war typical murder, simon has a panic attack, dissociation, simon is mean for like two lines

i hc that simon doesn't allow himself to get close to people because they always die in the end- so that's included in here.

@darklordofthesimp

Everything happened too fast for Simon to process. One second the hall was cleared, his finger snug against the trigger, ammunition filled and ready to lay out the next enemy. And the next… you were bleeding from the chest, choking on your own blood, and eyes filling with tears.

Simon didn’t hesitate to eliminate the enemy, yelling over the speaker that you- their only medic and Simon’s lover- were bleeding out, harmed by his own miscalculation and shortcomings. Soap MacTavish was the first to respond, saying he was finished on his end and that he would take you to the infirmary as soon as he could make it over there. The mission was complete- they had exterminated every hostile in the building and reinforcements would now be able to lodge here.

But you... Simon couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. He was afraid he would watch as the life bled from your eyes and onto his hands just like everyone else he’s ever loved and cared for. Firmly pressing his hand against your wound, he tried to stop the bleeding, whispering prayers to the gods he stopped believing in a long time ago.

“Please, please, please! Hold on for me, baby. Hold on just a little longer!” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, voice strained and cracking. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as you nod your head in response.

“Si… ‘m sleepy. So sleepy..”

"Fuck! Stay awake for me, princess. I promise you can sleep later." Tears spill over Simon's lash line, landing on your cheeks despite your inability to feel them. Simon's calloused fingers brush your hair from your eyes, cupping the back of your head with one hand and untangling your hair.

"Jus' stay awake for me, please." Simon would cringe at how pitiful his voice sounds- all hoarse and quivering- if you weren't bleeding out in his arms. It's his fault. If he hadn't been so eager, you wouldn't have been hurt- this was the only time he had ever miscalculated and now the one person he had allowed himself to love was dying. Crimson had painted his gear and hands. That damned iron tang usually wouldn't bother him, but it's yours. It's your blood.

Simon doesn't hear Johnny approach, pressing two fingers to your neck and checking for a pulse. Simon doesn't hear Johnny tell Price over the Comms that you were damn near dead. He doesn't hear Price tell him it'll be okay, and he doesn't feel Gaz lifting him. He doesn't feel his breathing become shallow and rapid, nor does he recall König guiding him through breathing techniques.

Simon does remember the Head Nurse on duty telling the team that it was unlikely you'd make it. The bullet had punctured a vital organ and surgery would be difficult and risky with the state you're in.

It's my fault she's gonna die. It's all my fault.

Simon doesn't remember anything that happened after that. He only knows that the next time he looked in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot and he had snot dribbling down his nose. Even now as Simon gazes into the mirror, the only thing he sees is a killer. A legal, funded bloodthirsty machine. Killers shouldn't love.

Or at least that's what he tells himself. If he didn't love you then maybe you'd be okay right now. You'd be thriving and goofing off with Soap and Gaz, comforting König, and doing whatever it is you do when you're not working or with him. But, because he loved you...you were going to die. Everyone Simon loves and cares about dies.

Knocking on the door alerts Simon of a presence. "Oi, LT. The Nurse has news on [Name]."

Simon wipes his face and opens the door. He trudges to the infirmary, afraid of the possibility that you'd died during the operation; afraid that he would be the reason you wouldn't make it into your thirties. Simon was afraid he'd be the reason your family would grieve for years to come- an empty seat at every family gathering, every shared holiday. He's terrified of the possibility that your puppy back home would be wondering where you're at for the rest of its life, and that you wouldn't be able to achieve your dreams after your enlistment ends.

Yet, Simon continues on. Step by step, corridor by corridor he makes his way to the nurse's station. Simon imagines the possibilities. If you had died during the operation, did you curse his name with your final breath? Did you hate him for letting you get hurt? Would you watch over him during battle?

And if you did make it through, would it be better for him to distance himself? Would it be better for you to stay away from him? Simon wonders what it would take to make you hate him. Even if it hurts him, Simon decides, he'd rather see you alive and well than dead in a casket. So, as Simon finally reaches the infirmary, he decides that if you were still alive, he'd break things off and make you hate him. It would be better for you. You'd be safe.

Simon stops in front of the door. Were you alive? Did he want to know? He wouldn't be able to live with himself if you...passed away. No, he doesn't want to think about it. Just open the door.

Simon feels his chest grow tight, his mind racing with the thought that you'd died during the operation. It was his fault. Simon feels his breath grow short, gasping for air and tears pricking his eyes. He shouldn't have loved you. Simon clutches his chest; he can't get enough air. Maybe you'd still be alive if he hadn't.

He failed you.

He didn't deserve you.

He'd never see your smile again.

He'd never get to propose to you.

It's all his fault. It's all his fault. It's all his fault . It's all his fault its all his fault all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault its all his fault-

"Breathe. Breathe for me... Ghost, breathe." Ghost recognizes König’s voice. He feels a hand on his shoulders.

"In for four seconds.... hold. Out for four seconds... hold." König repeats that mantra, Ghost following along until that blockage in his chest is gone and he can breathe properly.

"She's alive, Ghost." Price's worried face comes into view, and with those three words, he can feel the weight upon his shoulders melt away.

"Can I see 'er?" Simon croaks, cringing at the state of his voice.

“Yeah.. yeah you can see her.” Price doesn’t move as Ghost approaches the door, placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring, “It’s not yer fault.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, simply wrapping his fingers around the door handle and pushing it open before he can stop to think. There you were in all your glory- chapped lips and dark circles and he still thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Upon opening the door, your [color] eyes had settled upon him, a smile finding its way to your face.

“Hey Si-“

“[Callsign], I don’t think we should be together anymore.” Ghost blurts, watching as your face fell and disbelief wrestled its way into the shadows of your eyes, tears gathering at your lash line.

“That’s bullshit.” You whisper. “That’s absolute bullshit… This is because I got hurt isn’t it? Isn’t it!?”

Ghost stays silent and you become desperate, throwing the covers off of your body and taking pained steps towards him. Tears fall at a faster pace now, and Ghost can’t look you in the eyes- if he did, he’d beg you for forgiveness. He’d sob into your arms and ask if you hated him. He’d be Simon again.

“Si, please. It’s not your fault.” You cry. “I’m here aren’t I? Right?”

Ghost doesn’t respond, opting to gaze at the floor and bite his lip. It hurts him, it really does. He never liked to see you cry. If he could, he’d protect you from everything so that you’d never cry again. His heart squeezes as you release a sob, latching onto his wrist as he stands to leave.

“Simon Riley, don’t you dare leave! You don’t get to leave and not tell me why!” You exclaim, voice wavering. “Is it because I’m a liability? Am I too much?”

No, you’re not, Is what he wants to say.

Instead, he says, “I never loved you. You were just a warm hole.” The words taste like ash in his mouth.

“You’re lying! Please, tell me you’re lying!” The heart rate monitor begins to pick up pace and you rip everything hooked up to you out, sinking to the floor and clutching your chest.

“Simon Riley!” He loved when you would say his name. “Look at me! Look at me right now!”

His body turns, eyes meeting yours for a moment before they fall back to the floor. God, you have such pretty eyes. Such a cute nose and plush lips- he remembers when you would press kisses to every inch of his face when he came back from a mission. He remembers the time you almost got caught leaving his room when you wanted cuddles in the middle of the night. But, he won’t have that anymore. Simon tells himself that it’s for the best.

“You think you can be the martyr, Simon?! You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” You sound so hurt; Simon hates it. It’s for the best. “You think after everything you’ve told me, I wouldn’t know that you think you’re doing what’s best for me?”

“Simon goddamn Riley. I love you. I love you so much and I know you love me too.” Simon feels your hands lift his face, immediately leaning into your touch and eyes scanning your face. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, tearstains carving trails down your cheeks, and tears keep falling. His hands itch to wipe them away.

“You don’t need to leave, Si.” He hears the plea in your voice and caves, pulling off his mask and pressing his lips to yours, tears streaming down his cheeks and mixing with yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Simon chants, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin atop your head.

“Si, it’s okay.” You sniffle. “I love you.”

Simon’s lip quivers, teary eyes meeting your gaze before his lips press gentle kisses to every inch of your face, kissing away your tears.

“I love you too.”          

[majesty-madness]

"Skin to Skin" - Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader (sfw)

Summary: There’s something about him that makes her think that perhaps he needs to know she’s real. 

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: slight angst, nudity, cuddling, kissing, pillow talk, mentions of past trauma, fluff all around

a/n: not proofread. I had problems with writing this, almost like I couldn't "get mind in the game" so I apologize if it feels ooc or anything like that. I did try to keep it the way I had envisioned it but I don't know, maybe I didn't. Oh well, it's whatever I guess.

Btw Commissions are open for anyone whose interested.

Main Masterlist

As a member of 141, danger is one of the things she had become accustomed to and with that comes predictability. Yes every situation was different but somehow those different situations would end with the same conclusion so in that respect, Y/N supposes she may have accidentally grown complacent. 

Most missions were: research the target, then locate the target, infiltrate, and so on. It was second nature at this point, no need to even contemplate her actions as she would carry out her orders. 

However this time, the situation got a little dicey. 

It really wasn’t anyone's fault, in fact Y/N blamed herself for not noticing the guard that had managed to seek right into her blindspot and before she knew she was aggressively tussling with the man. No surprise he was stronger than her, so when he wrapped his arms around her waist in the middle of their fight and tossed her like a ragdoll, it was almost to be expected. What she didn’t account for was his speed for as soon as she picked herself up off the ground, he was already charging her. 

Reacting quickly, Y/N brought her legs up and pushed the man back with all her might right as the man closed the distance. 

He fell back with a thud on the concrete floor, uttering what Y/N assumed to be a curse in a language she didn’t understand. They’re fight continued for several more seconds, Y/N landing several blows to his face and she nearly dodging each attack, and in his growing frustration, the man got in close once more. Y/N didn’t see it but she felt it, the white hot searing pain resonating in her thigh. She let out a pain filled scream, echoing through the enemy compound. 

Ghost had been clearing another part of the building when he’d heard her causing his blood to run cold, the image of her lifeless body flashing in his mind. He rushed out of the room, pushing himself to sprint as fast as he was capable of. 

It took less than a minute for him to turn the corner to where she was, and his eyes were quick to adjust to what he was seeing; Y/N straddling the man, her knife dug deep into his throat. He could tell that she was breathing heavily, her torso expanding in and out as her lungs attempted to gain as much air as possible.  

“Sergeant.” Was all Ghost could think of to say. That seemed to grab Y/N’s attention anyhow because she whipped her head around to see his towering figure. Her eyes were manic from the adrenaline of fighting against someone twice her size. 

Ghost took a breath then took two giant steps forward, hands finding her shoulders to guide her away from the body. In the middle of pulling Y/N to her feet, she let out a strained whimper causing Ghost to freeze. 

“What is it?” He asked, voice hushed and gravelly low. 

She gestured to her right thigh, “My leg…” 

He glanced down, keeping an arm pressed to her back. Easily he was able to see the blood seeping from the wound; from his upright angle alone he saw the wound wasn’t too deep but it still needed medical attention. 

“Here, hold onto my shoulder; I’m gonna wrap this up.” Ghost didn’t give her a moment to respond as he already leaned down to tie a bandage around her bleeding leg. 

She let out a closed mouthed moan when Ghost tightened the bandage though otherwise was okay. He stood back up to his full height and helped Y/N out of the building. 

Luckily, the rest of the mission was completed without any more incidents. Y/N had initially been worried that her scuffle with the guard made the situation more precarious, however Price reassured that nobody else in the facility had been alarmed. After that they left; the team huddled up in their helicopter. 

Things seemed normal until they got back to the compound; Ghost had escorted Y/N to the medical bay to treat her injury but shortly after arriving, he curtly excused himself. Y/N was a bit surprised that he just left. She thought he might’ve stayed to hear how critical her injury may have been. It really wasn’t that bad, of course the initial stab was what hurt the most, other than that the almost burning ache is what remained.

From that day forward, Ghost had been acting strange. Stranger than normal. 

It was no secret that the soldier known as Ghost was an eccentric person to say the least, but this seemed different. For one Ghost kept his distance from Y/N, not ignoring her but definitely avoidant of certain interactions with her. One day she asked about this sudden change, seeing as how they were in a relationship. 

“What’s wrong?” She’d asked, sitting in front of him on her bed. 

It took a few minutes before he came up with the right words. “For just a moment I thought you…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence for her to know what he meant. 

I thought you were dead.

Y/N made sure to give him his space, let him process what happened and deal with the fear that he could very well have entered the room only to see her dead body. And this went on for days, weeks and eventually she started to wonder if he’d gotten lost in his head. 

Her leg was well healed now and nothing changed. She missed him. 

“Ghost?” Y/N said, hand barely tapping his shoulder for his attention. He turned, dark, expressive eyes visible from the underneath skull mask. “Can you meet me in my room later tonight? When you have the time, of course.” 

She watched his eyes dart away from her for a second, clearly thinking it over before he looked back to her, a subtle nod being his answer. 

“Thank you.” She gently whispered to him as if she were attempting to sooth him from an unseen turmoil. 

Around 9 that night Y/N heard a knock at her door, and knowing it was Ghost she called for him to come in. He was still decked out in his full tactical gear with his mask while Y/N had long taken off her vest and weapons, leaving her in her standard uniform pants and t-shirt. 

“Did you want to talk?” Ghost asked lowly as he closed the door behind him. 

She shook her head. “No, I just wanted to see you. And I thought maybe we could lay down for a while, seeing as how we won’t be up and at’em for a while.” 

He stood silent, again, contemplating the best decision when Y/N broke the quiet air. “If you want to, I’m not gonna force it on you. I thought maybe we could spend some time together is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Ghost replied, already beginning to take off his tactical gear and setting it off to the side. 

Y/N began to take off her boots, placing them neatly off to the side then stood at full height to pull back the blanket from the not so big bed. In the middle of doing so, Y/N paused, the fabric of the blanket crinkled in her palm as she stared at a random place on the bed. 

At that moment, she came up with an idea; an idea that might break the distance Ghost had been building between as of late. 

“Simon, can I ask you something?” She spoke, raising her eyes to look up from the bed. 

Now he had taken off all his gear including his mask, leaving him in the same uniform as Y/N not to mention the black like dust circling his eyes. She had to take a second to admire him as he was always wearing his mask. He didn't like to admit it nor would he ever but she thought he was absolutely handsome; a pillar of a man who had suffered in his life that still knew how to extend gentleness and kindness to others just as he’d done for her. 

She loved him so much. 

Ghost simply stared at her, promptly Y/N to continue on with her question. 

“Uh…this might sound a bit odd, but would you be okay with undressing before we lay down?” 

The moment the words left her mouth, Ghost’s muscles immediately tensed. 

Y/N knew what he was thinking so she made the quick decision to ease his concern. “I don’t mean anything sexual by it, please understand that.”

She paused, to give Ghost time to take in what she was saying. “I’ve noticed that you’ve kind of been lost in your head, distancing yourself, and I let you have your space since I don’t want to overwhelm you or pressure you to talk to me. But I miss you.” 

“I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Ghost started, however Y/N shook her head, taking several quick steps to him to gently grasp his ungloved hands in her smaller ones. 

“No, don’t apologize, let’s just lay down okay? Relax for a bit.” She suggested, gaining enough courage to smile. 

He gave her a semi smile, flashing so fast one would barely notice he even smiled in the first place. 

With that, Y/N stepped back almost to where she was standing previously and lifted her shirt over her head to toss to the floor. Then she unbuckled the belt wrapped around her waist, removed it from the pants loops and took her pants over quickly after that. She spared a glance to Ghost who had mirrored her actions to undress himself. He already took off his boots and shirt, and now worked on getting his belt off. Soon Y/N stripped down to only her underwear and crawled under the blanket, looking up at Ghost as he finished undressing. Much like Y/N, Ghost stripped down to everything except his boxers, the moment he did Y/N extended her arms out to him to join her. 

Ghost took a steadying breath before leaning down and slipped under Y/N’s blanket, instantly feeling her hands caress the skin of his shoulders as she brought him to lay against her chest. She adjusted herself until they had complete skin to skin contact, a comforting warmth transferring from one patch of skin to the other and soon a contented sigh leaving her lips. And when Ghost laid his head fully onto her chest, feeling her fingers massaging the base of his skull, her other hand tracing invisible patterns against his back, he too felt content. 

“How do you feel?” Y/N probed while continuing to tread her fingers through his short locks. 

“Good.” He simply answered, eyes staring off into nothing in particular. 

Y/N couldn’t help but to smile. “I’m glad. Though if you get uncomfortable, tell me and we can stop this.” 

She felt him nod. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I don’t think I’ll want to go anywhere any time soon.”

“I think we’re on the same page with that. Love feeling you so close.” She cooed, pressing herself as close as humanly possible. 

Ghost began to rub his hands along the skin of the side up to her shoulder, enjoying the softness. “Me too, I’m not…used to this.” 

Y/N pulled back enough to peer down at the entirety of his face. “I know, but if you want we could make this a regular thing?” 

“That sounds good to me.” 

Y/N leaned down to plant a soft kiss to his lips and he reciprocated in kind, nothing too fast or rough; it was perfect. Their lips moved in sync, burning from the heat of each other intertwining together in an intimate dance. When necessary, the separated; lips creating a wet smacking sound as they did so. 

The two stared into the other’s eyes, taking in every detail their face had to offer like they’d never see it again. 

“I was scared.” Ghost suddenly admitted, his voice hushed. 

Y/N nodded. “I know, and it’s okay. I’m here now, and hell will freeze over before I leave you.” 

This time, Ghost scoffed in amusement. “I don���t doubt that. You’re more stubborn than anyone else I know.”

“Oh yeah? Well I suppose I learn from the best.” She joked with a laugh.

Ghost dipped his face back to rest between Y/N’s chest and neck, taking a deep inhale of her sweet, natural scent. They remained in comfortable silence, listening quietly to the sound of the nightly crickets and each other’s hearts beating steadily. 

“I love you.” He uttered into the quiet room, noticing Y/N kiss the side of his temple. 

“I know, and I love you too.”

[anjelagarrick]

saviour

kyle “gaz” garrick/reader

summary: you get shot whilst saving your boyfriend.

tags: established relationship, secret relationships, near death experiences, strangulation, attempted stabbing, guns/gunshot wounds, angst with comfort, eventual fluff

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

YOUR LUNGS ARE heaving desperately, you’ve never ran so fast in your life. Soldiers are everywhere, you need to get away. Kyle’s behind you, making sure you’re not stumbling as he sprints as well. Rounding a corner, you pull him into a building, closing the door behind him with haste. “Fuck…” you whisper, backing away carefully. Heavy boots track past, you both share a glance, holding your breaths as the soldiers pass by. Finally, it goes quiet, and you both exhale with relief. “C’mon… maybe there’s some stuff in this house.” You tell him, gently touching his arm in passing. “Right.” His eyes follow you, finally moving away as he slowly sweeps through the house.

As soon as he knows it’a relatively safe downstairs, he heads upstairs, grabbing his radio. “Captain? Laswell?” He calls out, hoping one of them will respond. “Gaz, is Pagan with you?” Price asks, the use of your call sign throws him for a bit of a loop. “Yeah- yeah, she is. We’re fine, taking shelter in a house.” He responds, shining a flashlight into the bathroom attached to a bedroom. Nothing. “Good. Sit tight for a little while, we’re still getting confirmation on evac.” The Captain tells him, Kyle nods. “That’s fine. I think we’ll be okay for a while.” Kyle glances at the decor in the room, stomach twisting with a sombre feeling. “Stay strong, son. We’ll be home soon.” Price promises, signing off. Turning off his radio, Gaz continues his sweep. He can hear you walking downstairs, the sound rather reassuring to him. As he opens a door, a body slams against it, knocking him over with an oomph. A man launches himself onto Kyle, knife threatening to plunge into his chest- quickly, he grabs the soldier’s wrists, squeezing tightly as he tries to resist. With a quick movement, he smacks the knife away- it clatters against the hallway floor. Not giving up, the man wraps his hands around Gaz’s neck. With a new desperation, he scratches at the man’s wrists, hoping that he’d pull away, yet the enemy doesn’t budge.

You hear the commotion, racing upstairs, gun in hand. “Gaz-!” You yell, slamming your side against the stranger atop your boyfriend. The two of you tumble, you land roughly upon your shoulder as your own knife slips from your holster and skids away. Turning, you go to get up, yet the soldier is locked onto you like a wild animal- desperate to live. His gun is pulled, your eyes widen as a loud gunshot silences the house. You stumble back down, gasping a little in shock. “Y/n!” Kyle yells, voice raspy as he shoots the soldier. Panting, he rushes to you; stumbling to your side. “Hey, hey- it’s okay. You’re fine.” He whispers, pressing his hands over yours. The bullet had hit your sternum, your eyes were as wide as saucers; gazing at the ceiling. Shakily, Gaz grabs his radio, lifting it to his lips. “Captain-!” He pauses to wheeze a little, lungs still burning.

“Kyle, what’s wrong?” Price asks immediately, clearly worried at the sound of distress in the young sergeant’s voice. “Y/n got shot..! I need you here now!” He begs, hearing some immediately movement on the captain’s side. “Where are you? What’s the address?” Price demands, moving quickly. “Uh- a house on main street. I didn’t check, but there’s a red pickup truck in the driveway.” Kyle informs him, “Please, just get here quick!” He adds on, dropping his radio to continue aiding you. “Kyle-“ you choke out, taking deep, shaky breaths. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He responds, tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t wanna die.” You whimper, eyes meeting his; you’re scared, he is too. “You won’t. I promise you, baby. I promise! You’re gonna be fine.” Kyle responds, moving one of his hands to gently brush against your cheek; a smudge of red smearing against your skin.

“Remember that date we had planned?” He asks, a humourless laugh escaping him. “Yeah…” you respond, stomach rising with another shaky breath. “We’re still going, right?” Kyle smiles, it’s weak and quivering. “Kyle…” you mumble, voice dejected. “The coffee shop, your favourite. You promised you’d take me. You can’t break that promise, baby- you can’t..!” Gaz leans down, kissing your forehead softly. “Kyle- I don’t think.. i’m gonna get out of this one.” You whisper, wincing in pain. “No- you’re gonna be fine!” Kyle can feel tears running down his cheeks, yet he ignores them. Moving your hands, you let Kyle press over your wound, palm finding its place upon his cheek. “Baby, c’mon now…” you whisper, a shaky smile on your lips as your own tears escape you. As you gently stroke his cheekbone, a trail of blood stains his skin, marking him. “You’re gonna be fine- we’re gonna go get drinks, like you said.” Kyle responds stubbornly. “Kyle, baby. Be reasonable- i’m losing blood fast-“ you pause, wheezing roughly. “The captain is quite far away, we don’t know where he is or if we’re even getting an evac.” You add on, saddened eyes trying to comfort him. Kyle feels terrible, he should be consoling you.

“Just- save your energy, baby. You need it.” He whispers, palms trying to stop the blood flow. “I love you, Kyle.” You mumble, voice growing weaker, quieter. “And I love you more, just take deep breaths. You need to save your strength.” He responds, breaths harsh as he tries to calm himself. You hum, hand moving from his cheek, smearing the blood that was already there. “Baby?” Kyle mutters, examining your face. You seem more relaxed, sleepy. “Babe, this isn’t funny. C’mon.” He begs, hearing the front door fly open. He doesn’t know if it’s Price or enemy soldiers that had heard the shots, and he didn’t care as he goes numb; moving to cradle you. “Y/n, please.” He begs, shaking you lightly. Your head rolls a little, resting against his arm- as if you were peacefully asleep. “Y/n..!” He begs, at this point not even hearing the footsteps running up the stairs.

“Move, kid, let me see.” Price gently pushes Kyle away, kneeling beside you. Kyle shuffles away, back pressing against the wall as he stares at you. Price is observing you, fingers pressing to your pulse as he presses a kitchen towel to your wound. “She’s going into shock…” he mutters, glancing to Kyle. “Get some pillows from the bedroom.” He commands, Kyle blinks before getting up, rushing into the bedroom. He returns, handing it to the captain and watching him slip the cushion under your legs. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asks, voice wavering slightly. Price looks at you, then gives Gaz a knowing look. “She’ll be fine, son.” He responds. “How do you know?” The younger man questions, voice shaky. “Trust me, I know. Pagan is strong, you don’t have to worry.” Price is careful as to remove your helmet as well as any restrictive gear, putting it aside. “Is evac coming?” Kyle whispers, eyes staring at you. Your skin has lost pigment due to blood loss; Kyle feels sick at the sight. “Yeah, they’ll be here soon.”

Kyle sits, completely silent as he watches your chest struggle to rise and fall- raspy breaths escaping your nose. Clenching his jaw, he looks away, letting his eyes close as he listens to you; it was unbearable. Price glances at the sergeant, then back to you, exhaling slowly through his nose. “Gaz.” He speaks, bringing the younger man back to him. “Go get a thin blanket, just to prevent her going cold.” Price’s voice is more gentle, he knows that Kyle is hurting. “Yes, sir.” Getting up again, he retreats into a bedroom to collect a soft blanket. As he comes back, he watches as Price talks to you. “You’re gonna be alright, lass. You’re in good hands.” He mutters, accepting the blanket and draping it over you. “Can she hear us?” Kyle asks, watching his captain as he mulls it over. “I’d like to think so, son.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Hours have never felt so long. Kyle is sat beside you, eyelids drooping with exhaustion. His hand is knitted into yours, refusing to let go, no matter how clammy his palm felt. Kyle watches you, your breathing is more steady, but you’re yet to wake up. It had been seventeen hours, you had showed no signs of stirring; and no one around could pry Kyle away from you. He’d been beside you since you got here- he hadn’t even washed your blood from his face, arguing with everyone- even snapping at Price and Laswell when they suggested he take a break. He didn’t care if they found out, he wasn’t about to leave you. It was his fault you were in this state- deep down he was terrified that you wouldn’t wake up. He wanted to be there, for any outcome.

“Come on, baby.” Kyle mumbles into the silence, adjusting his chair so he could look at you better in the dim room. “You can’t do this to me… please, wake up.” He adds on, raising your hand to give it a soft kiss, keeping it there for a moment. “I can’t lose you. Please wake up.” He begs, voice beginning to waver as tears well up in his eyes. Kyle takes a deep breath, lowering your hand once more. “Baby, please!” Leaning down a little, his elbows press to the stiff mattress beside you, head in one hand as he cradles your own hand against his cheek. His tears drip, wetting your skin as well as his own. A low, raspy hum disturbs him. “Don’t cry.” You mumble, voice very hoarse as you move your hand to gently wipe his cheeks. “Oh- fuck, y/n- baby..! Oh God.” He let’s out a huge breath of relief, leaning in to kiss you firmly. “You’re okay!” He adds on, much happier tears escaping him. “I’m fine.” You nod, a weak smile on your lips. Gaz takes a few deep breaths, calming himself as he cradles your head, pressing some kisses to every inch of skin he could reach. “Kyle- please..!” You laugh, it splutters into coughs as you gently push him away. “Sorry- i’m just… i’m so happy you’re okay.” He mutters, hugging you instead.

You sigh softly, wrapping your arms around him whilst being careful of your IV. “Deep breaths.” You whisper, rubbing his back slowly as you close your eyes once more. You’re still tired, very tired, but you wanted to console your boyfriend. Kyle follows your words, soothing himself as he stops himself from squeezing you too tightly. “The captain helped you. I didn’t even know you went into shock.” He laughs meekly as he pulls away. “Kyle.” You deadpan, hand wiping the dry blood from his cheek. “It’s not your fault.” You tell him, taking a soft breath after. The bandages didn’t make breathing easy, yet you didn’t particularly care. “I… it’s just- you could of died saving me..! I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if-“ you sit up, pressing a kiss to his lips to hush him.

“It’s not your fault. I did what I had to.” You whisper, letting him ease you to a more comfortable position sitting up. “But you shouldn’t of had to do it..!” Kyle argues softly. “Kyle, baby. I know you can handle yourself, but… I wanna help when I can. This is something that could happen any time, you know that. I can’t just sit by as you’re being hurt..! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t help you.” You try to joke, letting your fingers slip between his once more. “I don’t want you to die because of me.” Kyle whispers, eyes still glassy as he looks at you. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” You point out, smiling slightly. “Yeah… but I… I can’t go through this again, baby.” He glances away. “Hey. It’s part of the job. It’s not my first time in here, you know that.” You lift your hand to gently swipe a tear upon his cheek. “But it’s your first time being shot..!” Your boyfriend argues, looking back at you. You stay silent at the harsh tone, watching him gather himself. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be upset with you.” He exhales, you smile, kissing his lips gently.

“It’s alright, baby. Just try and relax, okay? I’m fine.” You respond, leaning your head on his shoulder as he hugs you. “We still going to the coffee shop?” You ask, tracing your fingertips over his forearm gently. “Of course, baby. My treat.” Gaz responds, kissing your forehead. “Good. You’ll love it there.” You smile softly, voice growing more tired. “Get some rest.” Kyle mumbles, slowly laying you down to prevent any strain. “Lay with me?” You reach out, grasping his arm, thumb rubbing his skin softly. “Are you fit for that?” Kyle asks anxiously, resting his hand over yours. “Of course I am. Besides, I need you here.” You admit quietly, shuffling over to make room upon the hospital bed. Kyle slips his boots off to prevent dirtying the sheets as well as his gear so he could be more comfortable, slowly lying down beside you. You roll onto your side, adjusting the IV pole carefully so it didn’t tug when you curled your arms around your lover. Kyle hugs you, squeezing you firm enough that it was comfortable but not too hard to hurt. “G’night, baby.” You mumble, nuzzling your face into his neck. Kyle let’s his chin rest atop your head. “Night, baby.” He responds, letting himself relax fully as you fall asleep.

Within the early hours of the morning, Price stops by, peering in to check if Gaz is still there. He freezes, the sight of the two of you curled up around each other was not what he was expecting. The light from the hallway seeps in, and you raise your head sleepily to see who was there. “Sorry,” Price mumbles, giving you a dismissive wave. You hum, head moving back to Kyle’s shoulder as you readjust yourself, getting more comfy. With as much carefulness as he can, he takes a picture for Kate to see later before slowly closing the door. A smile spreads on his lips as he shakes his head. “Kids.” He mutters, heading out of the medical wing.

[makemykneeshurt]

How the 141 would react to your struggles with self-harm.

HEAVY CONTENT WARNING

Self-harm, cutting, scars, blood, hurt/comfort

__________________ ❤︎___________________

Simon:

- Walked in on you in the bathroom as you were sobbing and cutting. "Shit- sorry." Only to notice the little droplets of blood on the floor and you hiding your arm. He grabbed your arm and forced you to show him. He would think about all the reasons why you would do this, trying to figure out any reason behind it.

- Would be angry at first, but then would help you clean up. He would rinse your arm under cold water and help you bandage it as you sobbed. "Shh.. just breathe, breathe for me baby.."

- You would cuddle until you fell asleep. He would caress your cheek and just watch you sleep. He would think of all the ways to help you.

- At some point during the night, he would go grab any sharp object and hide it, scared that you would do it again.

- He crawled back next to you, holding you tight against him, afraid that be would lose you.

- If he had to leave you alone, he would make sure you were 100% okay before leaving. He would always make sure to text you throughout the day, just to be sure.

- Gives death stares to anyone who pointed it out.

- Kisses your scars.

__________________ ❤︎___________________

Soap:

- After a long day, you two were cuddling as always. He saw your old scars on your arm, and he went dead quiet. He grabbed your arm and ran his fingers over the small bumps. "Baby, what's this?'

- You two would have a long conversation about your struggles with it, but he would be very understanding. He would make sure not to leave any detail out of his mind to ensure that you wouldn't do it again.

- He would hold you in his arms for the whole night as you slept. He would run his fingers through your hair and give small forehead kisses as you slept.

- Would cry if he saw new cuts on you. He would need to know every single reason for it, when, where, how, and with what.

- He would be very conscious about sharp objects around you, especially if you were use it. He would always keep an eye on you if you were handling a knife or a razor.

- Wouldn't make a big deal out of old scars eventually. He loved every single part of you. Would call you a tiger, though. "My little tiger."

__________________ ❤︎___________________

Gaz:

- Saw your cuts in the shower but didn't mention them until afterwards.

- Wouldn't know what to do. He would be really confused as to why and when you used to or do it.

- Would try to help take care of fresh cuts. Eventually, you needed to help him because he was so clueless. He would hate seeing bloody bandages because it reminded him of your struggles.

- Would make sure you weren't in pain as he cleaned your wounds. "Does that hurt? Sorry baby, I'm trying to be quick.."

- He would make small jokes about it just to make you laugh, but would apologize if you didn't find the joke funny. "You're like fruit ninja."

- Makes sure you're always comfortable with him if you needed space after self harming he would give you it. He would complain about it after you were fine. "Please don't push me out, love.."

__________________ ❤︎___________________

Price:

- He found you cleaning up your cuts in the bathroom. He would panic at first, grabbing your wrist and giving you a concerned look. "What is this? Did you do this?"

- Would hug you and give you kisses for minutes right then and there. He would help you clean up and bandage your wrists. His bandaging was the best you had ever seen, not too tight, just perfect.

- He would be soft on you for the rest of the day/night, asking if the cuts hurt at all. He would make sure to offer painkillers if needed and would make sure he could help with it. "Baby, please, take these.. I don't want to see you in pain.."

- During the days, he would text you more often, making sure how you were feeling. Would come check on you if you needed him. He would bring you your favorite chocolates when you were feeling down.

- If you ever wanted or needed to cut again, he would make sure you wouldn't. Would make you take a bubble bath and stay there next to you, helping you calm down and relax until you were feeling better.

- If he catched you in the act again, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. "It's okay baby, it's okay.. You're going to be fine.." He would help you with it again without scolding you about it like he usually did if you did something wrong. It hurt him to see your blood drip down onto the sink and down the drain.

- 100% would stare at your scars and cry because he knew why you did it. It hurt him a lot.

[yawnderu]

Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

You examine the man as if he was under a microscope, milky white eyes staring back at you with the same intensity they always did. His balaclava was ripped off halfway, revealing a dislocated jaw, the bits of skin you could see while he was wearing his uniform were now all mangled up and pale, a contrast to the surprisingly soft skin Simon had before.

''Don't bite me.'' You warn and the zombie simply lets out a grunt in response. It has been a week since he turned, and it took hours of convincing the rest of the 141 to let you keep him— with the pretext that you could use him to try and find a cure, and maybe that was true. There was nothing you wanted more than to find a cure and turn your husband back to who he used to be. So far, nothing was working.

''I'm going to draw some blood, okay? It might sting a little bit.'' Your tone is gentle and so are your hands, carefully lifting off his uniform sleeve to reveal his forearm, needle penetrating one of his protruding veins until the blood collection tube was full of his dark, purple blood. You removed the needle, grabbing a cotton ball and taping it with medical adhesive tape. You sigh as you put down the materials, sitting down in front of your former husband... does it count as former if he's not completely dead?

''I miss you a lot...'' You start, speaking to him the same way you have been doing ever since he went nonverbal, unable to speak due to the zombification and broken jaw. Based on the grunts and the way he looks at you, you convinced yourself he can understand and knows who you are.

''I'm trying hard to find a cure. I mean, I like to believe I'm sort of close... but I don't know if it'll do much since the necessary organs are already decomposing. I'm sorry, I feel like I failed you.'' Your voice is strained as your gloved hands hold his, tears rolling down your cheeks as you silently sob, bringing his hands to your face and giving his knuckles soft kisses, the same way you did back when he was alive.

''I don't think I can go on without you, Si... I don't want a life without you.'' Your heart breaks more when you hear a soft grunt, a noise you became familiar with, the same sound he made before, comforting you when he knew you were down. Your head snaps up and you can see a small tear roll down his pale cheek, your eyes open wide as you bask in on the discovering.

''So you are sentient to some degree.'' Fuck Element 115 and fuck the zombie who bit your husband, the bastard is sentient! A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips as you smile up at him. You may not have a cure yet, but at the very least, he's not fully gone. Your hands gently caress his decomposing cheeks, testing the waters as you slowly lean closer.

Closer...

Closer, until your lips are touching his bloodied, decomposing mouth, the broken jaw forcing you to have an awkward angle to make it work. His mouth parts slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue inside, holding in your breath to not throw up at the smell of his rot. Surprisingly, you feel his cold tongue wrap around yours weakly, his poor attempt to kiss you with the little control he has of his motor skills. You break away for a second to take a deep breath, hands cupping his cheeks while you look deep into his eyes.

''I love you. I wish... things were different. I heard they'll bomb the entire country to get rid of the evidence of the virus.'' A small chuckle escapes your lips as he simply stares at you, tears blurring your sight while you lean your head on his shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks while you try to stay quiet.

''I don't know what to do, Si... There's really no hope. Even if I found a cure for you, we don't have access to any planes to get out of here, and any neighboring country would kill you if they see you.'' You feel cold hands attempting to hold your waist and you look up just to find he was already looking down at you. Perhaps you're that delusional, but you could swear his milky white eyes softened. You try your best to put on a small smile, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

''At the very least... we're together. I'll see you in the next life, my love.'' He grunts softly in response and you let out a soft laugh. You ignore the panicked screams ringing through the base, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against Ghost's, one last display of love before the bomb hits, wiping out of everything you ever loved.

''Hey.'' You call out softly to your colleague, holding a skull glove that slipped out of his uniform. He turns to look at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable even when he remains unmasked.

''Earth to Simon?'' You tease, waving the glove around for a few seconds before he gently takes it from you.

''Thank you... Stray, was it?'' He asks, one of his thin blond eyebrows raising slightly as he looks down at you. You nod your head, offering him a warm smile. You were just introduced by Captain Price, yet it feels like...

''Do I know you? You look familiar.'' A small smile is seen on his lips before he looks away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He thinks about his answer for a few seconds before it all hits you. He's...

''Ghost?'' You ask, tears rimming your eyes as soon as he nods, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he holds a hand on the back of your head, not wanting to let you see the tears escaping his eyes as well.

''Found you, love.'' A second chance at life with him.

[garden-of-joy]

Mistake| Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x reader

Summary: Gaz felt from the begging something about the mission was awry. But he didn't expect this...

I totally forgot about Gazfest! I hope I'm not too late @glitterypirateduck

Warnings: Angst, death

Gaz could feel it even before you left the base. Something about the mission was off. It rubbed him the wrong way when Laswell had her hands tied and forced out of the briefing room for "undisclosed reasons". The person that was in her stead seemed shifty and untrustworthy. His eyes were constantly jumping between the 141, never focusing on anyone in particular. The informat never regarded anyone by name. It was always "Captain" this, "Lieutenant" that, "Sergeant" third. Kyle never trusted that CIA informat.

What takes him out of his train of thoughts is you nudging him on the knee. "Kyle? Are you with us?" You whisper to him, making sure to not disrupt the meeting.

"Yeah love. But that skeezy guy doesn't look... Right. Something's off." He whispers back, leaning closer to you with his body.

"Relax, it's not like it's our first time without Laswell babysitting us." You reassure him, trying to be rational. Yeah sure, the replacement CIA guy doesn't look like the most trustworthy person out there, but to trust someone from the CIA fully is straight up stupid. Even with someone as close as Laswell, you still have to take everything with a grain of salt.

"I know, I just don't know if everything is right. Something is wrong." He keeps insisting, bouncing his leg nervously.

You put a hand on his thigh and press it down. "Relax, you're just being paranoid. Come on, we've gotta focus up on the brief." You move your hand up from his thigh and hold his hand, resting it between the two of you.

"You're probably right. Sorry love." Kyle shakes his head, feeling his bones pop a little and focuses on the briefing.

And even then, everything about the informat was wrong. From the way he didn't seem to look at anyone for too long, to how he never stopped changin his posture, but always had an anxious and hostile body language... What really sent him was when Price began strategizing how **his** team should go in, the CIA agent shot down his offer and gave a completely ridiculous idea. That they should all split up. And enter from four different sides, while Ghost keeps overwatch. The mission is a simple warehouse sweep, just go through it quickly, find what you need and get the hell out of dodge. It sounds painfully compromising, to send them alone like that so nobody has their six, having to comb through a warehouse with lots of potential flank routes and ambush spots.

And now here he is, two weeks later, pinned by what he assumes is dozens of russian mercenaries, taking turns to fire at his position. Some have already tried to flank him, but he picked them off, so now they just wait for him to come out, firing at him mostly to make a point. Kyle knows he can't stay here forever, or he'll eventually be caught off guard. He looks around himself, trying to find the nearest exist, his heart beating all the way up in his ears as bullets fly by, too close to his head for it to be safe. Comms are jammed, so he can't even call anyone to come help him, even though his squadmates have definitely heard the gunfire.

The exit to the north of him will take him to a more close quarters part of the warehouse. Maybe he can lose them there? Try and get any news from the team, maybe even find his comrades? At any rate, he'll have to get the hell out of dodge first, and then think about comms and whatnot.

He waits for the enemies to stop firing, just for a second, immediately springing off towards the exit, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his breathing heavy as he barrels towards the door. A bullet grazes his cheek, missing him by barely an inch, but he slams his entire bodyweight on the door, swinging it wide open. He doesn't stop sprinting, feeling the air going through his hair a mile an hour as he rounds corner after corner, in a frenzied sprint to get away. He stops after a minute, panting heavily, but catching his breath, securing his rifle.

"No doubt they'll go after me. I need to be ready. I need to-" is all he can manage to think, before he hears rushed footsteps coming in his direction. Footsteps, laboured by battle gear.

Gaz readies his rifle, setting it to full auto. His mind is going a mile an hour, Kyle can feel his hands itching to exact his flight or flight instinct, as his vision blurs around him. He doesn't quite realise what he's doing, adrenaline pumping through his veins with such intensity it can almost make them burst. He only comes to when a body hits the ground with a muted thump, all the rifles and punctured body armour clanking loudly to accompany the thump.

Gaz takes a cautious step to his fresh kill, to confirm it, but he freezes when he hears you. Or rather, the pained, blood-soaked croak you barely manage to let out. It pierces his ears like a thousand gunshots never could. Kyle lunges over to you and collapses to his knees, hoping that he misheard, but no. It is YOU. Your face, your attire, everything. Just like he remembers it. Except that now, every detail is getting bathed in blood, faster than anyone can help.

"Y/N, I... I..." He tries to find the words but he can't speak. His stomach is turning, making him squeamish. He can feel something rising up his asophagous, forming a lump in his throat as all he can do is gasp.

"I-I can fix this! I-I just need to call a medic." Gaz talks to you, clasping his palms around your wounds, desperately trying to stop the crimson fluid from seeping out of you, taking your life with it.

It's when he looks over at your face, a faint smile curled on your lips, that he feels it all. Death is staring back at him, its cold, boney hands dragging you away from where you need to be. In Gaz's arms, carrying you out of the goddamn warehouse. He stares back at your empty eyes, somehow so full of tenderness, transfixed on a place far beyond Kyle's reach.

His rationale is screaming for him to go, to at the very least save himself, but how can he? You're dead. Gone. Perished. And why? Because of him. It's his fault.

**I should have noticed your attire, your signature weapons, your fucking face!** His mind curses up a storm, drilling into him the severity of the situation. His gloves feel disgustingly warm, caked in something that isn't his, coated by something he wrongfully took. It's HIS rifle that shot HIS bullets that made it to YOUR stomach.

He takes your lifeless corpse in his trembling hands, his usual relaxed yet no-no sense attitude gone. Tears stream down his face as he presses you close, the salty drops finding their way into his mouth, painfully contorted as he tries not to cry. Gaz's ears begin to ring, but all sounds feel so distant now, as if coming from another planet. Everything feels distant and foreign to him, everything, except you. Kyle knows full well there's no going back. No amount of blood transfusions, stitches, resuscitation attempts, NOTHING, will ever help you. Because. Of. Him.

"Please Y/N forgive me, please..." He barely whimpers between stifled sobs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, your scent just like he remembers it. He wants to lose himself in you. He can't imagine a life without his one true love, especially knowing that you died by his own hands. All those dreadful, sorrowed sounds leave him, filling the room with unparalleled anguish, reverberating between the walls and drilling back into his head. It's too thick for him to move, too thick for him to hear the rapidly approaching footsteps and loud voices. It's too thick for him to see the bright red laser from a rifle, trained onto his head.

[juicybvns]

ik this is not a question, but

girl i beg you to write more smut scenes (ON MY KNEES FOR SOAP IM BEGGING OMG)

WE need more.

Also HAPPY NEW YEAR OMG and hope u had a good day!<3

sorry i’m late to this! but thank you and happy new year to you too!

soap x fem reader! maybe ooc

the sounds of dishes clanking in the kitchen became vidient throughout the house as soap walked through the front door.

he slid his shoes off by the entrance along with his jacket, two coffee cups in hand.

he had woke up before you around nine this morning. he had originally wanted to sleep in with you but was used to waking up pretty early during the week.

he always looked forward to waking up next to you, being able to admire you sleeping then kissing your forehead before getting out of bed.

this morning he decided to get you guys a little treat and ran out to get a coffees from the cafe down the street for the both of you.

he made his way towards the kitchen and walked in to you bending over, searching through the lower cabinets looking for a pan to start breakfast. what a nice way to start the morning.

his eyes took in your little pajama shorts that hugged your ass so well with your cute fuzzy socks. he bit his lip eyes scanning you. he set the coffees down on the counter and made his way towards you.

he stopped behind you, slowly placing his hands on your hips while slightly pushing his pelvis against you. he bent down towards your ear and whispered.

“morning’ babe.”

you quietly gasped in surprise as you looked back. “johnny you scared me!” he chuckled. you stood up straight and turned around with his hands still on your waist.

“i brought ya coffee.” he nudged his head towards the counter. your eyes lit up and you moved out of his grip to retrieve the drink.

“aw thanks baby! you’re so sweet.” you said before taking a sip.

once the liquid reached your taste buds, you pulled away and cringed slightly. “a bit too strong but it’s alright.”

he eyed you with a certain look as you cuddled your hands around the drink. you recognized it and gave him a really? look.

“it’s 11 in the morning, how are you horny?” he laughed as he threw his head back then looked back to you.

“i can’t help it, ya look so good when ya first wake up.” he pouted.

you gave him a stern look and attempted to shut him down.

“not now johnny, I still have to make breakfast.” you whined unconvincingly.

he just stared at you, a smile slowly creeping up his face like he knew you were gonna give in.

“stop it! we’re not having sex right now.”

“fuck! johnny!” your voice echoed in the kitchen.

he knew you we’re gonna give in. you always do.

having you bent over the counter, thrusting in and out of you at a inhuman pace. your slick coating your inner thighs and his hands deathly gripping your hips.

morning sex hit different considering this man was whining, head thrown back.

he looked down, watching your ass clap on his pelvis, face red.

his thrusts ranged from hard and slow to fast and short. but boy did they feel good.

the tip of his dick reaching deep inside your pussy. his girth and the curve he had hitting all your sensitive spots, making your eyes roll.

he was ended up getting irritated with his shirt being in the way so he brought the edge of it to this teeth to hold it up. beautiful abs out and glistening with sweat.

you looked back as your hand gripped the counter and watched him thrust while listening to his groans get muffled by his shirt.

being able to get those sounds out of him just had you drooling for this man.

his eyes connected with yours and he leaned foward to hold your hand on the counter.

“fuck baby…ya feel so good, i don’t think i can’t last that long.”

just hearing him say that had your stomach fluttering, ready to orgasm.

he let go of your hand bringing it underneath you to rub your clit in circles, while giving you open mouthed kisses on your neck. feeling his heavy breathing against it.

the sensation on your clit and neck had your breathing picking up. a few more thrusts and you were creaming around him while moaning his name. “oh johnny!”

he was honestly trying his best to keep going but the sweet feeling of you squeezing and pulsing around him had his hips stuttering as his cum started to fill you up. “s-shit!” he stuttered.

he started to slow down and and soon stopped moving altogether. both of you catching your breath.

he slowly pulled out while you hummed in pleasure and ache. your clit feeling almost overstimulated.

he watched your cum ooze out of you and chuckled out of breath.

“got ya extra creamer for that coffee.”

[buterccup]

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

[veroneverleft]

Cars Outside

Ghost (Simon Riley x (Vixen)Fem!Reader)

TW: Angst, Cursing, Death, mdni, mentions of trauma

Summary: You and Simon had an argument right before an mission, and when it goes downwards, you get shot trying to protect him.

-

I'm packin' my bags that I didn't unpack the last time.

"(Y/N) this mission has high risks, You're not coming." Simon tells her, as she stared at him with disbelief as he continued getting his gear ready "Me? Not coming? Simon- I'm the bomb specialist in this team, and the mission needs one! What do you mean 'm not coming?" She said as she also started wearing her vest and and get her gear ready, But Simon stops her "Take your vest off. Thats an order." He said coldly, she rolls her eyes and shakes his hand off

But you know the truth, I'd rather hold you

Than try to catch this flight.

"Price has already assigned me to be in this mission, don't bullshit me with your 'orders', I'm coming an thats final." She said as she finished wearing her vest and place her gear in its designated places.

.

I don't wanna leave you

The mission went shit. They were surrounded, enemies left and right and any direction they look at theres an enemy approaching. "We're compromised we need back-up! Were low on ammo!" Simon said over the comms, Vixen heard this, Price told her to stay low, but soap and ghost were in a dangerous position, "Vixen stay put. Do not engage." Price said, She stood there as she listened Simon through comms. Finally having enough she took off, running away from the parked EVAC "Vixen!" Price shouted yet she was long gone.

I don't wanna leave you

She ran and ran, asking where to go. "Northwest- the small shop- fuck- careful- enemies scattered around the whole street, over" Soap said over comms as she soon found their location, the streets were indeed filled with enemies, she quickly loaded her gun, making a run for it, killing the soldiers that were now alerted by her presence, as she ran inside the shop "Go out the back door!" She shouted, as Soap quickly ran out, using his remaining bullets to clean a path, Ghost followed soap after, she watched Simon run, all of a sudden she yelled his codename, before running and pushing him to the side before a loud gnshot was heard. Then there was a deafening sound. She tried to focus her vision and listen, yet it was all a blur, she couldn't hear the man who was begging her-

Not to close her eyes. It reminded him when his brother died, like history was repeating itself. The nightmare all over again.

She can hear him but it was faint. "Keep your eyes open Vixen!" "Don't do this to me!" "Stay awake goddamnit!" She couls hear him. "Ghost.." She mumbled weakly. "Yes thats it love, talk to me, keep your eyes open" He said, Yo can hear the worrg n his voice. "I'm sorry.." She said, last thing she heard was a plead. "Don't die on me please!" Before everything went black.

. . .

They arrived at the EVAC. She was dead on arrival. She's lost too much blood due to being shot in the lungs, the bullet grazing her heart. They arrived back at base, the whole ride was silent. As ghost was left with his thoughts.

'I told you it was dangerous..'

Don't wanna leave you anymore.

[bubblygumi]

his last words.

hi ! this is my first ever post. please excuse any errors as english is not my first language, thank you.

˚♡ sincerely, bubbly.

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

pairing : Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x John ‘Soap’ McTavish

genre : angst, no comfort.

CW : MW3 spoilers ahead!! Major character death, grief, slight descriptions of blood.

“I love you.” The three words Simon couldn’t shake from his head, they haunted him like a ghost, taunting him in remembering how Soap died in his arms without him even having the chance to say it back.

He was a coward. Soap was alive and well right before the mission, Simon had even went so far to let him into his arms when Soap spoke those three dreading words that would haunt Simon till the end of his days.

Simon didn’t say it back, he froze, he beat himself up mentally for never saying it, especially now that Soap was gone, out of reach.

He swore he would say it back, but he froze up once again as the pool of blood stained his uniform. It was Soap’s blood. Soap was dying right in his arms and there was nothing Ghost could do about it.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout and profess his love to the man in his arms, but he froze. Right as Simon opened his mouth to say the simple ‘i love you too.’ Soap was already gone, Soap died without ever knowing if Simon loved him back.

[homicidal-slvt]

"Lucien"

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MDNI

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A story about the son of Simon Riley.

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Part 2

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Important: Lucien is an oc I recently created, inspired by @sprout-fics take on how Simon would respond to Y/N being pregnant.

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Warnings: Angst, Death, Abandonment, Trauma

-

Simon was pleasantly surprised when his son actually agreed to meet up with him, to give him a chance to talk.

Mend old wounds- to try.

18 years.

He's only sent birthday cards and presents for 18 whole years, constantly considering talking to his son but then thinking about his work, about who he was as a person.

His trauma. His past.

How could he possibly be a good influence on a growing child's life?

Now that child has grown up and Simon missed it, a swirling mixture of regret and heartache in his soul. He tried to convince himself it was for the better but he often doubted that decision. Often wondered 'What if I had stayed?'.

-

Lucien clutched onto his mother tightly, thick drops rolling down his cheeks as he cried. The 6 year old little boy quivering within his mother's gentle hold.

"Momma... Does daddy not want me?"

The poor little boy couldn't grasp why his father couldn't be there in person for his party, why he wasn't ever around. His delicate heart shattered and his mom left to do her best to glue the pieces back together.

"No, sweetie... Your daddy just is going through a lot, okay? But he loves us both very very much. We both love you Luci and don't you ever forget that."

-

Lucien tugged on his denim jacket and slipped on his boots, breathing out harshly and trying to hold it together.

He wanted to give his dad a chance.

But how could he ever make up for all that time- how could he possibly explain? How could he ever take the pain away?

Groaning he ran his fingers back through his tousled brown hair, jaw clenching he trudged on down into the direction of the diner.

••

Simon's attention was instantly caught as his son walked through the doors, the first thing he noticed was how similar their eyes were.

Lucien's deep unrelenting hazel gaze locked onto Simon- his father's eyes for sure.

In one quick motion the chair in front of Simon was pulled out, the feet scratching harshly against the diner floor and Luci plopped down into it.

"Go ahead. Talk."

Tone of voice cold and direct- Simon cleared his throat and began his attempt to explain to Lucien best he could. Though it wasn't exactly an easy subject to tackle.

Though after his genuine attempt at explaining he noticed that Lucien hadn't responded at all, gaze still drilling into Simon.

Luci wanted so bad to just forgive his father- but all those years of pain and anger just wouldn't let him, like a festered wound and torn stitches in his heart. All Simon's words sounded like were excuses to him at this point, eighteen years for all this to build up.

A whole eighteen years dealing with everything on his own.

Simon kept eye contact as he could see the pain in those hazel eyes, however there was also a darkness looming- an unyielding storm.

Hatred.

"You left us."

"I know-"

"No. No you fucking don't."

Fists clenching until knuckles turned white, a burning sensation in the back of his eyes tears threatening to form. That broken little boy still inside him.

"She had no one. She raised me by herself. You were never there, you don't know the hell we went through. You don't know."

Simon sat in silence listening closely, knowing he needed to let this out.

"You don't fucking get it!!! You didn't even show up for her funeral!"

That word struck something within Simon, a wave of disbelief washing over him and more pain crawling into his heart.

She's dead...?

A joyless chuckle escaped Lucien as he stood up abruptly, chair nearly falling over and other people looking at them now but he frankly didn't care.

"That's right- you didn't even know she died, did you? Too busy off god knows where leaving your kid and the woman who fucking loved you behind to fend for themselves."

His tears felt like acid burning at the edges of his eyes as he tried not to cry, turning and storming out of the diner and heading back home. He didn't even notice whether or not Simon tried to call out for him.

He just needed to go home. Now.

-

{Lucien is my baby I love him sm he needs a hug so fucking bad. Also yes this is gonna be a series.}

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}