#tysm riley!!!!

[perpetual-fng]

quick sketch

[knightjpg]

In the third picture of Brick by Brick, there’s a guy straddling a ladder and that has me crying bc that’s asking for a hospital visit😭😭

But it makes me think that if Simon were to get hurt on the job, reader would always be there at home to patch him up. He doesn’t always care if he’s not doing something the safest way, and reader is none the wiser about the OSHA guidelines, so he oftentimes comes home waiting for the gentle hands he associates with home to help fix him up.

I love the story so far and I can’t wait for more of your amazing writing!💕💕

"Do I need'ta carry you t'bed, love?"

Simon's large hands stroke over your shoulders, and for a moment you pause to lean back into his touch with a sigh.

"All knots, you are," and Simon presses into a tight, unhappy muscle along your neck. You let out a little yelp and twist your head to give him a half-hearted pout.

"Just a little more? I almost have it."

Simon hums, gaze sliding over to the pile of open books and notes scattered over your desk. "How long you been at it?"

...Guilty silence. You squirm in your chair. "Couple hours."

Simon just waits, though his hands don't stop rubbing soothing little circles into your skin that have you melting under his touch. After a long pause you finally confess, "Well--since I got home. But--"

Far too long, then, by Simon's standards. He bends down, one hand sliding over your shoulder and curling around your throat, fingers flexing against your pulse. He feels you swallow when he murmurs in your ear, "Think it's time f'you to be in bed with me."

You let out a breathless little laugh like you think he's joking, but there's no outright refusal, and Simon isn't going to wait around long enough to get one. He lifts you straight out of your chair into his arms, and you're taken aback enough to automatically cling to him in that way that makes his chest glow bright red.

"Hey--!" you huff. Simon turns and heads for the door. "I can--honey," you say, this time with a laugh. "I can walk, c'mon. Put me down."

"M'afraid I can't. Made me wait too long. Had t'take matters in my own hands."

He squeezes said hands to drive home his pun. A sweet giggle, and you rest your head against his shoulder. "You're silly."

"Not as silly as--" Simon cuts himself off, biting his tongue. The door to your bedroom is closed and his shoulder throbs when he tries to twist one of his arms, still holding you, to nudge the handle down.

He tries to hide his wince, but this close up you notice the tightening around his eyes right away. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Am I too heavy?"

"A feather," Simon says, and it's the truth, but when he tries for the handle again his jaw jumps.

"Baby, no. Put me down." This time you sound like you mean it, and Simon begrudgingly and carefully lowers your feet to the ground. His shoulder twinges again in unhappy relief.

You look him over critically, hands stroking his arms like you're trying to locate the source of his pain from touch alone. "Are you hurt? Talk to me."

Ahh. Once the missus finds out she'll be upset, he told Price when he offered to call. Wasn't a big thing, nothing worth interrupting your day for, and he figured it'd heal soon enough that telling you would make you worry more than was in any way necessary. And he was right, wasn't he? You look anxious, chewing at your lip, brows furrowed in worry. Simon lifts his hand--his left side, the good one--to brush your cheek.

"Just a bit of a strain," he tells you. "In m'shoulder. Nothin' important."

"Why didn't you tell me?" you frown. "Baby, I could have--" You gasp, fingers squeezing his arms. "I asked you to empty the rubbish today!"

"It's fine, didn't hurt."

"Please tell me you had someone look at it."

"'Course I did," Simon grumbles, feeling more and more like a child being chided because they didn't look both ways before crossing the road.

"And what'd they say?"

You're not being entirely fair here with those doe eyes, softening your voice like you would at a stray dog, but knowing it doesn't stop Simon from responding exactly how you want.

"Just have'ta take it easy for a bit," he says gruffly. "Price knows, won't be dragging 'round anything heavy for a while."

"Hmm." You purse your lips and turn the handle, tugging Simon into the bedroom. You point to the bed. "Sit, please. I'm getting you a cold compress. And tiger balm."

Simon watches you with a small smile while you fuss over him, directing him to strip and sit still while you apply the cream.

"Yes ma'am."

Might not be all bad seeing you worry over him once in a while.

[rashfords]

hello   everybody   ,   click   the   source   and   you   will   find   227 247 268x151   gifs   of   vanessa   morgan   in   wild   cards 1.01 .   she   is   of   tanzanian   and white descent   .   these   were   made   by   me   but   idc   what   you   do   with   them   ;   edit   ,   don’t   edit   …   if   you   wish   to   redistribute   as   gif   icons   ,   feel   free   .   you   don’t   need   to   ask   permission   but   please   credit   me   in   the   post   .   anyways   like   /   reblog   ,   all   that   jazz   .

[sir-heichou-smith]

I had just finished a lil thing with poly!141 x fem!reader. However, I'm still new to the Tumblr posting mechanisms, and I accidentally deleted the draft I had saved 🤦‍♀️

Should anyone like me to rewrite it, I gladly will. Just know it wasn't very good lol, just a thought. Maybe once I get the hang of this more I can start turning them into actual fics.

[valerieisunavailable]

w h a t.

[shyravenns]

Soap 1C and Ghost 6D :)

Ghost for 6D! Sorry for how messy this is, but I was Struggling trying to work on his body type haha I hope you like it!

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Has an obsession with Johnny slaughter, likes COD men? This might just be the worlds greatest tumble blog 🤭

It just goes to show we both have good taste 😏 (tysm you're the sweetest 👉👈)

[omegawott]

see so far tumblr is nicer than twitter because its been a whole ten minutes and i havent seen a single person nihilistically make fun of a piece of loved media for no reason or debate whether or not trans people deserve to exist or elon roleplaying as his three year old son

[yuukimiyas]

hi hi!! do you have any book recs chloe?? i remember you saying you were majoring in english, so what are some absolute favs? <3 i spend too much money on books but i love them sm (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

eeep!! sweet riley!! ꒰✿´ ꒳ ` ꒱♡ okay i love love LOVE this question!! i could go like.. so in depth w this question but i'll just list em rn hehee ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა so i'm a huge fan of most of the classics, poetry, fiction & autobiographies (i know that's kinda lame lmaosdjf) but okie so my top 5 all time faves are:

the bell jar by sylvia plath (fun fact! my first ever tattoo is a quote from this book!!), the stranger by albert camus, howl by allen ginsberg, even cowgirls get the blues by tom robbins, & i'm thinking of ending things by iain reid!! ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა i'm trying to read more fiction that has come out somewhat recently & i have a huge list i wanna read but sigh despite workin w books i have so lil time ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა but i'm tryin to read lots more!! i could list so many more omg i feel like most of my faves touch on kinda heavy topics but i love the style choices used by all of these authors & they all left a huge impact on me growin up!! ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ ilysm riley tysm for this question!! i hope you find them enjoyable if you do read some of them!! <33 def lmk what you think!!

[sorrowveined]

Once, a long time ago, the existence of monsters and magic along with creatures of the night was common knowledge to lords and citizens alike. After all, through Dracula's power, there was no escaping their devastation - anyone who once held any doubt as to the veracity of the myths passed down to them through generations would soon learn that those myths were very, very real.

But now, in the modern age... it's funny to think about how much things have changed. And how quickly. With Dracula and his castle finally gone for good, it's not like magic or darkness have disappeared... yet, now there are very few who are even aware that anything beyond the mundane exists in this world at all. Most of that is due to the efforts of the Church, of course, but even so, Alucard has no doubt that such a state of relative peace would not be possible if his father were still here.

This strange and constantly changing world, without Dracula... what is he supposed to think of it? Sometimes, Alucard doesn't know how to feel. His mission to protect humanity is still something he holds to firmly, but when he thinks about the future, and wonders where things will end up in the end, for him and for humanity... there are times when he wonders what his place here truly is. What it could be, and what more he can do.

He tries not to dwell on such thoughts too frequently. Today has been a strange day for him, but not necessarily a bad one... Still, when Alucard spots the unfamiliar woman - and notices the unusual interest that she appears to have taken in him, he realizes that he must have been more lost in thought than he was aware of.

"...Excuse me. Was there something you needed?"

@incubabe ( starter! )

[oceantornadoo]

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

--

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

[kittywhimsical]

nsfw! mdni

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

simon riley x roommate!reader who just cannot finish by herself.

roommate!reader who does everything she can from her fingers to vibrators but to no avail, she can't come.

roommate!reader who goes to simon's room, shyly peaking her head in, wearing just panties and simons an oversized shirt.

roommate!reader who asks for simon's help, but he barely heard her because she whispered.

simon, who made her speak up and his cheeks immediately flushed red as she did.

simon, who agreed to help her. what harm would it do if he did?

roommate!reader, who thought simon's fingers were much better than hers.

simon riley x roommate!reader who are now roommates with benefits.

simon and reader who both want more than that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

holy crap!!! tysm for 100 notes on my previous post!!??

[joyfulfxckery]

Eeeeee 🩵

Hihi, okay, I have a request!

Can I request how 141(mostly ghost & price but whoever you want) + König would react if their s/o has scoliosis? But it's a really, really bad day, and every subtle movement is nothing but pain? And could you possibly add their back seizes so bad they can't breath or move for like a few minutes? That happened to me earlier in a pizza joint 😣

I've cried so many times today from pain, and I can't stand up straight, and I'm leaning sideways leaning tower of fxckery over here

Please and thank you!

Ghost + Price Comfort GN!Reader With Scoliosis

cod masterlist

A/N: I only did these two, i hope that’s ok! also, warning—i do not have scoliosis, so i did some quick research for this. please let me know if it’s inaccurate and i will immediately edit this <3 i’m also sorry youre in so much pain!!! “birdie” is not a callsign, just a nickname to switch it up!

[WARNINGS: physical pain, military inaccuracies, hurt/comfort.]

-> John Price

Price is aware that you have scoliosis and he knows that it can be quite painful, but he hasn’t gotten the chance to witness how truly painful it could be for you. He’s seen you wince and sit down in unconventional locations in an attempt to alleviate the pain radiating in your back, your braces, everything.

Today is a day where he hasn’t seen you all day, besides in the morning to collect the paperwork that you needed to do by the end of the week. He found it odd when you collected it all at once as you usually space it out between days, but he didn’t stop to think about it.

He hasn’t even seen you leave to get anything to eat or drink and it’s 1100, and you got up at 0600. That’s when John decides to grab you a cup of your favorite drink from the common kitchen area and head to your office, as well as a cup of tea for himself.

John manages to get the door open with both hands full—somehow—and that’s when he finds you hunched over your paperwork, your thumbs digging into the inner corners of your eyelids, pressing until those large block splotches appear behind them. He pauses for a moment, noticing the way you didn’t even perk up at the door opening.

“Y’alright?” He asks in a slow tone, watching the way you jolt from your position. Your eyes open and they land on John and you look miserable, cold sweat dripping down your temple from pain. “Mhm, just.. a flare-up.” You wave your hand in air as if to dismiss your pain, causing him to walk over to your desk.

John places your cup down—thankfully in a blank spot that isn’t covered by paperwork—and he stares at you for a moment with a non-believing look. “Is there anything I can d-“ He’s cut off by a low, pained whimper from you; you shove your face into your hands, as if to hide from him.

Your breath hitches, like you can’t breathe, and John begins to panic. He puts his cup of tea down somewhere on the desk and puts a hand on your back, speaking lowly and gently. “Darling, I need you to talk to me before I drag you to medical..”

You take a deep breath, sending sharp pains shooting through your body. You manage to push out “muscle relaxers” and “NSAID”. John processes your words and his shifted to something serious, like he was on an actual mission. He goes around to behind the desk and finds the bottles in the upper right-hand side drawer.

John opens both bottles and grabs the correct amount of medicine, and he grabs your cup. “Open,” he murmurs, planning on feeding you the medicine. You take a quick breath and open your mouth and John swiftly feeds you some of your drink, pops the pills in your mouth, allows you to swallow and lets you drink some more.

“Good.” His voice is low and comforting, and he presses a kiss against your tear stained cheek, his thumb coming up to wipe your tears away. “When you’re ready, lovie, let’s move you to your couch. Heard hold and cold things may help, too.” He feels terrible as he watches you struggle to breathe, your muscles spasming terribly, sending excruciating pain through your muscles. John wishes he could take this pain from you.

-> Ghost

You’re moving supplies for the base, big crates full of food, MRE’s, medical supplies and more when you feel the familiar pain begin your back and radiating down your leg. You wince from a spark of pain settling into your joints of your leg. You, being stubborn, refuse to sit down at first; “work through the pain” is your motto most of the time.

And most of the time, that does not work at all. Johnny, who is unloading the crates with you along with two recruits, notices your pace slowing and you only slow when something is up. He watches you closely for a moment before he speaks up, walking next to you as you carry a crate to the loading area. “Y’know, bonnie, ya can take a break? We’ve got it.” He insists, watching the way you bend down slower than earlier to place the crate down.

“I’m fine.” You respond—if you don’t think about it, it’ll go away.. right? That was your second mistake, the first being offering to help when your back was already aching a bit earlier. Johnny sighs and grabs the next crate you pick up from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow. “Go rest, you need it.” Johnny says, pausing for a moment with a smirk. “Don’t make me get the L.T.”

You mimic his voice childishly “dOn’T mAkE mE gEt ThE L.T.” before picking up another crate, securing your fate. Johnny texts Ghost and within a few minutes, he walks into the loading area and you make eye contact, groaning half with annoyance, half from pain. “I’m fine.” You try to insist, but your tone is a bit weak, and you wince from the pain—a nerve in your spine is probably being pinched by this point.

You lift a crate and Ghost swiftly snatches it from your hands, and your jaw drops and you look up at him to argue, but his gaze is intense, silently telling you to listen. He protrudes authority with just his presence, much like his captain. Ghost has seen you have scoliosis related problems before, so he places the crate down on the ground and he grabs your hand. He doesn’t yank you along in fear of hurting you further, but he does guide you to your office.

“You need to start taking better care of yourself, birdie.” He eyes you as he has you sit down on the couch, walking over to your desk and opening the drawer he has memories your medications stay on. You grumble and attempt to adjust your position to feel more comfortable. “I do take good care of myself.”

“I said better, yeah?” Ghost pours the medications into has hand and walks over to you, dropping the medicine in your out-stretched palm. You want to be stubborn and snap back at him, but at that very moment, a sharp pain shoots through you and your muscles begin to spasm. You whimper and you blink, within a second, Ghost is sitting next to you, pulling you against him. “Shh, let it pass..” He mutters, his voice unnaturally soft, but still rough around the edges. “I’ll grab you some water soon, birdie. I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

[ink-n-shadow]

As for suggestions, maybe something fall=Halloween themed? Like maybe smau that is the reader is texting the boys maybe freaking out about being lost in a corn maze? Or texting them about (sexy) Halloween costumes? Just some ideas!

-🦦

this suggestion really got my creative juices flowing (tysm to everyone who suggested couples costume ideas!)

PERFECT COUPLE('s costume)

����𝜚 the texts where you find the perfect couples costumes to wear with the CoD men

𝜗𝜚 characters: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick 𝜗𝜚 cw: allusions to smut themes (minors—DNI), brief knife kink (ghost), subtle allusions to munch!soap, overall cute halloween-y vibes 𝜗𝜚 a/n: i just realized i deleted a texts from soap's messages, but i can't change it now so rip </3 it doesn't impact the read much but it bothers tf out of me

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[romanticintheory]

HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS

...

and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺

HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3

simon riley betrays you pt. 2

simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist

☆ ☆ ☆

-miraculously, they let you go.

-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.

-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?

-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.

-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.

-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.

-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.

-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?

-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.

-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.

-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."

-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.

-"c'mon jus' let me-"

-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.

-oh, thank god.

-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.

-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.

-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."

-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.

-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?

-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"

-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?

-"no. never."

-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.

-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.

-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.

-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."

-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"

-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.

-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"

-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"

-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.

-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.

-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."

-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.

-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.

-"what?"

"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.

-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).

-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.

-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?

-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.

-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.

-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."

-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.

-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."

-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.

-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."

-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.

-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.

-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.

-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.

-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.

-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."

-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.

-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.

-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.

[mvctavish]

idk if u do platonic requests but can u write like a drabble of simon riley and a daughter!reader where she has separation anxiety

𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x daughter!reader

notes: hi!! this is my first request ever, so tysm! i love this idea and platonic requests are more than welcome ^-^ i do have to say a quick disclaimer: i am not an expert on separation anxiety, so don't take any of this as fact or advice.

summary: during your childhood, simon often noticed how clingy you were. it wasn't necessary a bad thing (since it ensured you'd never wander off or get lost) but it seemed abnormal. as you got older, it became abundantly clear that you suffered from separation anxiety. it was tough, especially when he had to be deployed.

cw: daughter!reader, my bad writing, descriptions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, reader cries, angst, hurt/comfort-esque fic, mentions of riley (the dog), reader's age isn't specified, word count: 1.3k

SIMON RILEY never thought he'd be a good father. It was in his blood, he told himself, destined to be a grade-A asshole like his own dad. However, when you came along, his whole world shifted. You were the product of a one-night stand and entirely unexpected, but you quickly became the most precious part of Simon's life. From the moment he first held you in his arms in the hospital room, he knew he could never, ever hurt you. You were his perfect baby girl, and he'd gladly die and kill for you if it meant you'd be safe from harm.

Raising a kid on his own wasn't easy by any means. Who would've thought a hardened lieutenant would spend his afternoons playing tea parties and barbie dolls and beanie boos? You were the one thing that kept him going. Whenever times got tough, whenever Simon found himself in a grueling situation on the battlefield - you were what lingered on the back of his mind. He had to make it home to you.

As you got older, and your personality warped into a unique soul, one thing stood out. Your separation anxiety. You tried therapy and journaling and breathing exercises and just about every coping mechanism under the sun. It helped, but not on days when Simon would leave. His work kept him away for months at a time, leaving you a nervous wreck that rarely left your room.

Simon hated leaving you, knowing just how much distress it caused you. But unfortunately, life wasn't fair, and he had to make sacrifices. His job was one of those. After years of dealing with your anxiety, he'd learn the best ways to cope with it. Telling you days in advance of his deployment never helped, as you were stuck stressing yourself out and marking the days on your calendar like a countdown to the end of the world. Simon preferred to tell you the day of his departure. It was at least a little easier that way.

The door to his bedroom was left cracked open so Riley could enter and exit as he pleased. The old German Shepherd often made rounds around the apartment, so Simon didn't think much of it as he packed up. He'd only been home for five days, but a call from Price let it known that he'd be needed soon. Simon always, always hated leaving you, but he knew it had to be done.

His black duffel bag sat atop his freshly made bed, unzipped and being filled up with clothes and other necessities like his toothbrush and whatnot. It was still early in the morning, the sunlight just barely beginning to filter in through the half-opened blackout curtains on the window. He hadn't even started to brew his early morning coffee, head fuzzy from sleep. It was quiet and peaceful, for a few passing moments.

Simon's trained ears quickly picked up on a soft gasp of breath. He froze his movements, waiting (it wouldn't be the first time his mind was playing tricks on him). It wasn't until the sounds of shallowed, sharp little breaths did his heart sink. He knew that sound all too well. You were standing in the doorway, clearly having caught your dad packing up for deployment.

“Dad?”

Your voice, small and shaky, is what finally made Simon step into action. He crossed the bedroom in a few long strides, quickly taking you into his arms as your eyes well with tears. This was exactly why he hated leaving. It made his chest ache, his heart hurt, seeing his child so torn up because of him.

“Shhh, it's alright, yeah?” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, a deep timbre taking on a gentle tone made for you alone. One hand cradles the back of your head, fingers delicately brushing through your sleep-tousled hair. The other rests on the small of your back, his hold on you strong and tight but not suffocating. He'd done this dance a thousand times before, comforting you when you need it most. “I'm right here, sunshine, I'm not going anywhere.” Yet.

Hazel eyes darted down to look at you. It's then that he realized your gaze was still focused on his duffel bag, tears trickling down your flushed cheeks in thick globs. Simon was leaving. Your dad was leaving soon, but you needed him home. You were shaking, trembling hands clutching onto the front of his wrinkled sleep shirt. It's quiet. He counted your breaths, coming in and out far too rapidly. Your heart was aching, and your chest felt too tight, making each breath painful. You couldn't get enough air in your lungs, even as you let out a pitiful sob.

Simon's heart shattered at the sound. His daughter, his sunshine, was in pain. You hadn't had an anxiety attack this bad in months. He clenched his jaw as he carefully dropped to his knees, knowing the smallest of movements could startle you. “Look at me.”

When you don't listen right away, his hands, calloused from years of training and military work, come to cradle your cheeks. His touch is soft and tender, handling you like a porcelain doll. “Hey,” Simon speaks again, the single word sounding just a bit more serious than before. Sometimes, a firmer hand is needed. He gently guides you to look at him, teary, red eyes meeting his own. His grip on your cheeks keeps your head in place, not allowing you to look anywhere but at him.

“Take deep breaths, baby,” Simon coaxed, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through chapped lips, hoping you'd soon follow suit. His thumbs gently brushed under your eyes, collecting your tears and wiping them away. He keeps up the slow breathing. “I'm here. I'm right here. You're not alone, sunshine. It's okay.”

“I don't-” you choke on a breath, more tears replacing the ones he'd just wiped away. Another sob falls from your lips. “I don't want you to leave.”

God, the sight of you nearly breaks him. He's a soldier, but you're his weakness. Your brows furrowed, eyes widened, and your chin quivering. Simon feels his throat grow tight as you gasp and struggle for breath. “I don't want to leave, either,” He states, thumbs rubbing the apple of your cheeks to try and ground you. Your hands reach up, gripping onto his wrists. If it weren't for his focus of trying to calm you down, your nails digging crescents into his bare skin would've been painful. He didn't mention it. If that's what you needed, then let it be.

“But I have to, baby. I swear to you, I am always comin’ back home to you.” His thumbs keep working, wiping away each tear they can manage. “You need to calm down. Deep breaths.” And Simon continues the breathing he'd done before.

“I can't-”

“Yes, you can.”

It was easier said than done. The anxiety you felt swallowed you whole, trapping you in a headspace that was hard to escape from. It occupied your every thought, tainting each happy moment and turning it sour. Despite your doubts, you did your best to breathe, chest heaving and hiccuping until you managed. All the while, Simon held you and whispered gentle praises.

“There we go,” Simon whispered, wiping away the remainder of your tears. “Good job.”

Your cheeks were wet and splotchy, sticky tear streaks staining your skin. The rims of your eyes were red and puffy, and your breath still stuttered every once in a while, but you had managed to pull yourself up from the throes of your anxiety attack. Simon remained in front of you, thick brows furrowed in worry as his hands left your cheeks, resting on your arms. His hands rubbed up and down, soothing you completely and keeping you present in the moment.

“I know you don't want me to leave, I know you're scared,” Simon continued after a few beats of silence. “It's alright to be scared, sunshine, but this is something that I have to do. You won't be alone when I'm gone, and I'll call you and text you every day as many times as I can. How's that sound? Good?”

When you nodded, his lips twitched, forming a brief remnant of a smile. “Good.” He repeated and nodded as well. “Now, what d’you want for breakfast?”