Damien

24y/o fed up with everyone's bullsh*t most of the time

[ddejavvu]

Need Steve bruising my cervix fr

you go to the hospital for your mysterious gut pain and they explain to you very kindly that, whatever monster toy you're using, you've got to find a smaller one, and stop being so rough with it. meanwhile steve's parked in the chair to your left wide-eyed and tight-lipped, bouncing his leg because he happens to be the monster toy

[finnslay]

things you DO NOT need to be a man

a dick

he/him pronouns

XY chromosomes

things you DO need to be a man

the swiftness of a coursing river

the force of a great typhoon

the strength of a raging fire

the mysteriousness of the dark side of the moon

^this post was brought to you by LGBT^

Let's

Get down to

Business

To defeat the huns

[homeofthelonelywriter]

K.I.A. | Oneshot

(A/N) This one could really hit hard. Please take care of yourself.

Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: lots of angst, death of a loved one, depression, grief, alcohol, comfort in the end

Synopsis: I don't think there is a need for a synopsis. The title says it all.

It was supposed to be fine.

It was supposed to be safe.

“It’s going to be a quick and easy mission, love. I’ll be back in no time.”

That’s what he had said.

That’s what he had promised.

But he lied.

The mission wasn’t quick. It wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t be back in no time.

He was dead.

Killed in action, an honorable death.

To hell with them. To hell with their honorable death. Death isn’t honorable, death is death. And now he’s gone. And I’ll never see him again.

It’s his funeral and I can’t even look at them. The ones that survived. Price, Soap, Gaz. They all came back but he didn’t. He didn’t and he never will.

They hand me a flag, folded into a triangle. If I could, I would throw it at their heads. If I could, I would yell at them. If I could, I would I hit them. But I can’t. I can’t do anything, but stand there, hold that stupid flag and cry while they fire off their shots. I can’t do anything.

Well, I can do something. I can lie in bed. I can cry, a lot. I can ignore my hunger until I almost throw up. I can see his shadow, trick myself into thinking that he’s back. That he’s alive.

And I can think of him. Of all the good memories. How we met. The first time we kissed. How he asked me out. Our first date. The birthday he gave me the puppy.

The puppy…at the though of Riley, I sit up. At least until I realise that my mom took her after the funeral. She was safe, cared for. I was alone. So fucking alone.

I don’t know how much time passed, a week? Maybe a month. Perhaps even two.

I finally get up and take a shower. I smell after all.

The shower feels incredibly small without Simon behind me.

And that’s how I start crying again. I sit under the stream for what feels like hours before I finally find the strength to get out and dry off my body before falling back onto my bed.

But now it’s getting better.

I take showers from time to time.

Sometimes I even eat some food. I don’t cook anything, everything I’ve had, had spoiled by now, but I just order in.

It’s been four months since Price stood at my door and told me he was dead. That Simon would never come back. And I’ve finally found a way to dull the pain.

Alcohol isn’t the answer, of course. But for now it’s the only thing that is making me feel even slightly alive.

I spent most my day at the bar nearby, what else am I supposed to do?

Home makes me think about Simon.

Work makes me think about Simon.

Hanging out with my family or friends make me think of Simon.

We had never gone to this bar together, so I’m safe here. And the alcohol drowns out my thoughts of him. Well, most of them anyway. At least it leaves enough sense to find my way back home.

It’s become some sort of ritual. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to the bar, get shitfaced and go back home.

Today isn’t any different. Why should it be? But why…does it feel different.

I usually spend multiple hours there, but today I just want to get back home. After I pay for the drink I actually had, I make my way home. But I feel watched, the whole way back. At least I’ll feel better as soon as I’m in bed.

I unlock the front door and walk inside, not paying any mind to the big shadow standing in the hallway, or to how similar it looks to Simon. Instead, I lock the door behind me and shrug off the jacket I’m wearing, hanging it up.

I walk past the shadow and to the staircase leading up and to the bedroom I share…shared with Simon. But something stops me. One word.

“Love?”

I freeze not moving a single muscle. It can’t be him. But it sounds like him. But he’s dead. But it looks like him.

Stiff, almost like a robot, I turn around and look at the shadow. And I see Simon.

“You’re not real.”

I shake my head and start walking up the stairs.

“Love, it’s me. I’m sorry, I-”

I cut him off as I spin around and slap him across the face. That used to get rid of the hallucinations, but…he’s still here. His head whips to the right from the impact, but he doesn’t move.

“Simon…”

He looks at me. He is here. So I touch him.

I place my hands against his chest, against his beating heart.

And it is beating. He is alive. He is here.

I move my hands to his shoulder. They are as broad and hard as I remember.

I move them to his neck, feel his pulse. He is here. He is alive.

“Simon.”

I only realise that I’m crying when Simon lifts his hands and carefully wipes them away.

“Simon.”

A sob wracks through me and I let him wrap his arms around me.

Another sob and I let him pull me closer.

My body shakes as he holds it to his.

His body. Firm and warm. Hard, covered in muscles.

He is here. He is alive.

“You were dead.”

He tightens his hold on me.

“I know, love. I know.”

I claw at his jacket, trying to get him closer.

“I cried for you.”

Again, his hold tightens.

“I know. I wish I could’ve done something. All I could do was watch.”

I continue to cry and sob in his arms.

At some point, Simon picks me up and carries me upstairs. But not to the bed. To the bathroom.

Carefully, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub before he turns on the shower. With hands, as gentle as I remember them, he undresses me, before he undresses himself.

He navigates me into the shower, before he carefully washes me. All the while, holding me close and consoling me whenever I have another break down.

And then, he leaves me there. He leaves the water on and it feels like he’s gone again. Maybe I just imagined him. Him being here. Him consoling me. Him taking care of me.

But I didn’t.

He joins me in the shower again after ten minutes.

“I just changed the sheets real quick. Let’s get you out of here, princess.”

Once again he picks me up and carries me to the edge of the bathtub. He had placed a towel there, so I don’t feel the cold of the metal when he sets me down.

Carefully, as if I were made out of porcelain he dried my body before he pulled one of his old t-shirts over my head. Once he is dry as well, he carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed, before he gently tugs me in.

“I’ll be right back, my love. I’ll just get you a glass of water.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead and is about to walk away when I catch his wrist.

“Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”

He turns to look at me and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Simon, please. I…I can’t loose you again.”

Tears are rolling down my cheeks again. And this is what he needed.

He nods and climbs into bed beside me, immediately pulling me close against his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry my love. I’ll never leave you again. I promise. Never again.”

I nod but continue to sob into his chest. And this is how I fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning, alone in bed.

“Simon? Simon!”

Without thinking, I try to rush to the door, but my feet get tangled in the sheets. I fall to the floor, but get up immediately.

Please let him be there. Please let him be alive. Please.

Please please please please please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple-

“Love? Are you alright?”

He is here. He is alive.

“You…you are here. You are alive.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His arms immediately wrap around me and support my weight completely.

“Ssh, it’s okay my love. I’m here. I promise you I’m here.”

Like a baby, he started to gently bounce me up and down until I slowly started to calm down. Now I know why that works on babies.

For the rest of the morning, I stay there, wrapped securely in his arms, while he cooks pancakes and cleans the dishes. I even eat in his arms.

And even after that, I’m hesitant to leave them. But I do. I let him set me down on the couch and watch him as he flies through the house and cleaned the messes that had accumulated since his ‘death’.

His ‘death’.

“Why?”

Simon stops in his tracks and turns to look at me.

“Why what, my love?”

I sigh, already feeling bad about asking this question. But I need to know.

“Why did you fake your death? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Now Simon sighs. He puts away the broom and sits down next to me.

“There was a mole in the 141 and we had to flush them out. This was the only way we could think of. I’m so so sorry love. I promise, I tried my best to get them to change their mind. Or to at least let me tell you, but the mole…he had to buy it and…”

“They were afraid I wouldn’t fake it well enough.”

Simon nods, sadness clear in his eyes.

I nod. And I can’t say that I don’t understand. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating him. I just never thought it would go that far.

“Si…please never do that again.”

He shakes his head and picks me up, putting me down on his lap.

“Never, princess. I’ll never leave you again. I swear on my grave.”

At that statement I pull back slightly and look at him. His lips were pulled into a slight smile. And then I start laughing.

“You are such an idiot.”

Simon chuckles and nods before pulling me back onto his chest.

“I’m sorry, love. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I shake my head and cuddle into him and I know this is going to be alright. We are going to be alright.

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Pt. 1

Your obsession with the four men kept growing inside you and two days later, you found yourself once again close to the surface. It was easy to spot them, the water around you and them was deserted otherwise. Well, at least if you didn’t count the fish and other sea creatures.

Always keeping out of sight, you watched as they enjoyed their time in the water. Whether they were swimming, diving, snorkeling or just playing around, you stayed nearby. One on hand, you wanted to keep them safe. The sea was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, having to fight against bigger predators daily. But…there was something pulling you to them as well. When you first saw them, you were scared. After all, every time you met humans before, they tried to take you. Wrapped their hands around you, sometimes even used nets. But you always got away somehow.

“Oi! Johnny! Come back here!” You peeked out from behind the rock you were using to hide and saw one of the men on a floating thingy, slowly drifting out to sea. He was fast asleep, not realizing how far off he had gotten. Suddenly, your heart started to beat faster as you realized that he began to drift out to an area that was known for its strong currents.

Not thinking, you dove under the water and swam to him as quickly as you could. By the time you reached him, he seemed to have woken up, but he had also been caught by a current. Although he wasn’t threshing around, you could sense the panic boiling inside him.

You breached the surface right next to him and could immediately hear the others yelling at him to stay calm. But when the man caught the movement next to him and saw you, he shrieked and tumbled off the weird thing. The moment, he hit the water, he was pulled away by the current. You quickly grabbed him under his arms and pulled him back up, using your fin to keep you both afloat. “Wha-” He sputtered, looking at you with wide eyes.

You looked right back, still holding him, before motioning for him to hold his breath. The moment he did, you dove back under and pulled him along, using the strength of your fin to navigate the both of you out of the current and back towards the beach, where the others were still waiting.

As soon as it was shallow enough, you let go of the man and turned around, about to swim away, when someone else called out. “Wait!” You hesitated, glancing back to see an older man with a beard, slowly walking toward you. His hands were raised and you quickly realized that he was the man that freed you. When he noticed that you weren’t about to bolt away, he lowered his hands again and smiled at you so sweetly. “Thank you. For saving that idiot.” He pointed to the still gasping individual, who, even though he looked as if he had just swam an atlantisthon, still managed to grin at you and send you a wink. “Aye, thank you bonnie.”

You were quickly joined by the other two, but the one that spoke first, made sure they didn’t get too close, so they wouldn’t spook you. “Do you…Can you understand us?” You slowly nodded, and the man chuckled, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “That’s good. My name’s John. These are Johnny, Simon, and Kyle.” You took all of them in. They looked like warriors, well built and covered in scars - some more than others - but they also looked so…nice. Not something you ever thought of the mer-warriors. Quietly, almost too quiet, you whispered your own name back, your voice breaking, not used to you speaking. The man repeated it just as quietly, almost as if trying how it sounded from his lips and you couldn’t help but smile at all of them.

And so, an unlikely friendship began. Every day, you would join them on the beach, show them tricks, win breath-holding contests and play with them. At some point, late at night, you found yourself sitting in the shallow water with the silent one of the group. Both of you so still, that fish had started to swim around you. With a smile, you started to play with it, not noticing Simon staring at you. “You’re beautiful.” Wide-eyed, you turned to look at him, surprised to see him smiling softly at you. Your mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say, but he just leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, before getting to his feet and trudging back to the building on the beach. “See you tomorrow.”

The next day, you noticed them growing more affectionate. Their touches more intent and lingering for longer. Their bodies were suddenly much closer to yours and their eyes were constantly on you. But when John gently cupped your face while the others were getting food from inside, you pulled back, fear in your eyes. He looked surprised, stunned, and confused. “I-I’m sorry if that was too much. I promise I would never do anything without your permission.” Your chest heaved as you breathed quickly, fear clawing at your heart. “W-When humans kiss us…we…we become human too.” John’s eyes widened and he stumbled back, stuttering further apologies, but you just turned around and swam away, still scared. But at the same time, there was a small voice in the back of your head, asking if it truly would be so bad to be a human. To be with them.

A/N: Still inspired by @beloveds-embrace. I love you!!

@totalapathy @soniiyi @littleindulgences @terrifiedanimegirl @harmonysonata @dotmistbird @z-wantstowrite @small-mean-dwarf @kthehoeforfictionalmen @limeleag

[unknownsvoid]

simon is genuinely so obsessed with how dumb you get over his cock. whether you're being drilled by it, having it in your hand, sucking it, hell even by looking at it has you all shy.

don't get him wrong. it's cute and everything, but when he's having to fuck you with his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, while fucking you in a supply closet literally twenty minutes before a meeting. it gets kinda annoying, not that he is complaining. well, he is, but it's worth it in the end when he sees your dumb, cock-drunk face.

his dick pounds in and out of your warm, wet cunt, it pushing him away before dragging him back in for all his worth. it drives him insane. he barely has to do much. your cunt is so greedy it just sucks his cock in and then spits him back out.

one of your legs around his waist while his fingers are pushed deep down your throat to shut you up. you're too dumb to even think right now – spit slobbering all over his thick digits. he doesn't mind it though. he finds it verrryyy cute and verrryyy arousing.

"shhh, doll, wouldn't want the others to hear us, hm? what would they think if they say their lieutenant fuckin' his co-worker like this, hm?"

he smirks. he knows damn well what he said went in your ear and came right out of the other. he knows you can't process anything right now but pleasure.

your cunt clamps down onto him, "c-cumming! shitshitshit!"

though it was all muffled with his fingers in your mouth. he could tell what was about to happen anyway.

the way your eyes roll back and your cunt began to flutter around him while more of your delicious juices leak onto his cock, even more than before. yeah, he joined you soon after. his cock spurting warm cum deep into your quivering pussy before he pulls out of you with a groan.

five more minutes.

well shit, you're going to be late to that meeting. i guess it was worth it for a quickie though...

[thephantomsdream]

Y/N: [watching a video of someone getting dumped at the altar]

Y/N: What the fuck?

Ghost:

Y/N: [the bride accepts getting dumped gracefully, just shedding some tears]

Y/N: Such an elegant, beautiful woman. Nobody deserves this. My heart breaks for her...

Y/N: Couldn't be me

Y/N: The way I'd be swinging so fucking fast—

Ghost: [smiles and nods]

Y/N: [bride keeps crying]

Y/N: No, because I'd immediately jump the fucker, bite his skin off, dislocate his jaw, kick him in the ribs a few times—

Ghost: [stares in heart emoji]

Y/N: Definitely would kick him in the dick too. Oh, and his balls? Would fully castrate him by the time I'm done stepping on them.

Ghost: 'Ere ya go. [hands Y/N a ring]

Y/N: [ignores the ring, keeps ranting]

Y/N: No, for real, he'd vomit his own piss and cum for a month.

Ghost: [gets on one knee]

Ghost: Marry me.

Y/N: To end it all, I'd spit in his mouth.

Ghost: MARRY ME RIGHT FOOKEN NOW—

[kkusuka]

i want captain john price to fuck me so well that the entire med-bay can feel it. thinking about patching him up then getting my guts rearranged as a thank you.

you aren’t even a soldier- just a medic who happened to be around when 141 needed help. patching up their captain was more than nerve wrecking- his lieutenant and two sergeants looming over you asking about his status. but john could care less about his team at the moment— you looked like an angel. patching him up so sweetly, so mindful of how he was feeling.

and if anything, john price likes to keep his scores even- you help him out he helps you out.

“so good f’me, love. always so good” and you look just as good as he first saw you; lip between your teeth, unwilling to let too many people know how good his cock feels pounding into you. “patchn’ me up so well, takin’ my cock like you were made f’it”

and the captain would be damned if someone tried to take you from his team; you’re too good to them to go anywhere. he knows they know what happens after you patch him up, and he knows you’d do the same for any of them too- they just need a little push on the right direction!

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: Know why I called you in here? Ghost: Because I accidently sent you a dick pic Y/N, stops pouring two glasses of wine: Accidently?? Ghost: Ghost: Nevermind ignore me-

[thephantomsdream]

Soap: What did you do on break, Lt?

Ghost: Rode my bike and slept in an alleyway behind a bar.

Gaz: Checks out... (leaves the room)

Ghost: ...

Ghost: Want to know what I really did?

Soap: (immediately interested)

Soap: Yeah!

Ghost: (pulls out his phone)

Ghost: (shows picture of him having someone cuddled up next to him, both under a blanket, two switches in hand, both on the Stardew Valley logo screen)

Soap: (his smile falls immediately)

Soap: Wh—

Ghost: I played Stardew Valley with the missus.

Soap: The mi—?!

Ghost: Planted crops, went to the mines...

Ghost: (swipes through more pictures of them playing)

Soap: (stunned silence)

Ghost: Upgraded the house for the missus, made some town friends... (screenshots of more gameplay)

Soap: Wait—

Ghost: Even fishing. (shows a picture of him catching a legendary fish)

Ghost: The missus doesn't like fishing. (clicks his tongue) Caught them all though. (nods to himself)

Ghost: (smirks) Want to know why I'm telling you this?

Soap: (still stunned, but nods)

Ghost: Because nobody will believe you.

Ghost: (starts deleting all pictures in front of Soap)

Soap: (pained gasp)

Soap: Ye monster.

[khioneee]

free chicken.

pairing. simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

the dim light of the briefing room flickered over the map spread across the table, casting long shadows. you stood close to simon, your shoulder brushing his as the team reviewed the details of the next objective. the tension in the room was lighter than usual.

soap was grinning, as always, but this time, it was contagious.

‘this one’s free chicken,’ soap said, tapping the map with the blunt end of his marker, a cocky glint in his eye. ‘no sweat. barely a challenge.’

you blinked, confused by the term, and turned to simon. ‘free chicken? what does that even mean?’

simon’s gaze didn’t leave the map, but the corner of his mouth twitched beneath the mask, a hint of amusement only you would catch. ‘it means easy. something we can take without a fight.’

you frowned, glancing back at the objective. ‘sounds too good to be true.’

he finally glanced your way, his eyes catching yours for a fleeting moment. ‘it usually is.’

something about his tone made your stomach flutter. like he was talking about more than the mission, his words carrying a weight you couldn’t ignore.

‘maybe this one really is easy,’ you suggested, trying to lighten the mood, though you didn’t quite believe it yourself.

simon’s eyes lingered on you, unreadable, before he murmured, ‘nothing worth keeping is ever easy, doll.’

your breath caught at the way his voice dipped low, soft in a way he never used with anyone else. your chest tightened, the words sinking in. before you could respond, soap cut in with his usual energy.

‘all right, enough flirting over there,’ he teased, jabbing his thumb toward the exit. ‘let’s grab this chicken before it flies the coop.’

you stepped back, cheeks warm, as simon shot soap a glare sharp enough to cut steel. but as you moved to gear up, you felt simon’s presence linger behind you, his voice low and meant just for you.

‘stay close,’ he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. ‘even if it’s free chicken.’

you nodded, the warmth of his words settling over you as you followed the others out. trap or not, you knew one thing for certain: you’d always stay close to him.

an. yes ik chickens don’t fly.

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

warnings. mentions of death, emotional distress, grief and loss, pregnancy.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.

[khioneee]

tap out.

simon doesn’t expect anyone to tap him out. a ritual where loved ones step forward to release a soldier from duty, creating a chance to reconnect.

based on this.

simon stands in formation, a soldier among countless others, each bound by discipline, each carrying their own story beneath a stoic exterior.

in the unyielding line, he’s silent, gaze fixed forward, while around him, families reunite: sons embraced by tearful mothers, women lifting their children into their arms, couples lost in long-awaited kisses. joy and relief fill the air, carried on quiet laughter and murmured words of love.

but simon is an orphan now.

there’s no one to step forward for him, no one to break his stance. he watches it all, standing alone, feeling like a stranger in this crowd of reunions, this world of connections he never belonged to.

over the years, the military has stripped him down, rebuilt him into something hardened and unbreakable. this new self is his armor, a wall between him and the life he left behind.

the tap-out tradition is a formality he’s only ever heard about, something he’s watched from a distance but never expected for himself.

he stands motionless as soldiers around him are tapped out by loved ones. he watches quietly, feeling a distant sense of satisfaction for them, grateful that they have that in their lives.

maybe soap would tap him out after he’d seen to his own family.

no matter how many times simon tried to keep him at arm’s length, he’d come to accept that soap wasn’t leaving him behind. coerced into the friendship or not, soap was a friend. until soap has been tapped out, there’s no one in simon’s life to come pick him out.

still, simon knew he was alone in ways he couldn’t change. or so he believes.

then he feels it—a subtle shift in the air, hesitant footsteps halting just in front of him, carrying a weight he doesn’t understand. his breath catches, but he doesn’t move. he’s trained to hold his position, but something in him almost falters as he senses a presence just inches away. slowly, he lets his gaze shift, barely, enough to catch a silhouette he thought he’d left behind a lifetime ago.

it’s you.

you. his childhood best friend. the love of his life.

you. the only person he thought of when he escaped his broken home. you. the guilt that wracked him when he ran, unable to say goodbye after the night he barely escaped after being beat nearly to death. you. the only reason he wanted to be alive, and the person he hadn’t been able to look back for.

—you. you. you.

and now here you are, standing before him, eyes wide with hope and uncertainty, tears gathering at the corners like unsaid words held back for too long.

he doesn’t understand, not fully. he thought he’d locked that door, left that part of him sealed away. and yet, here you are, holding everything he thought he’d left behind.

you hesitate, the weight of the years pressing down between you, unsure if you’re allowed to do this. if you can reach out to him after all this time, to be the one who taps him out.

he senses your uncertainty, feels it as if it’s his own, and in that moment, he lets a flicker of vulnerability break through—a slight furrow in his brow, a subtle nod. silent permission.

and you know, in that instant, it’s okay.

with a trembling hand, you reach forward, closing the distance. your hand hovers over his shoulder for a heartbeat, the air between you heavy with everything left unsaid.

then, gently, you tap him out. a simple touch, light and fleeting, yet it breaks something open in both of you.

in an instant, simon moves. his arms come around you, his grip unyielding as he pulls you close, lifting you off the ground. the soldier falls away, and he’s just simon again, holding you as if you’re the only real thing in a world that’s constantly shifting.

his head lowers, his face buried in your shoulder, and he breathes you in, lets the walls he’s held up for years fall away.

‘you’re here,’ he murmurs, voice rough, thick with emotion he can’t hide anymore.

his hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, each touch soft, a silent promise. the weight of years and regret presses against him, but he holds you tighter, as if to make up for every moment he was gone.

you feel the warmth of his tears against your shoulder, silent and raw. he pulls you closer still, as if afraid to let go, his voice barely a whisper as he breathes, ‘i’m sorry, lovie. i’m so damn sorry. i’ll never leave you behind again. i promise.’

and in that moment, surrounded by echoes of lives left behind, he’s just simon again, the boy who belonged with you.

. ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ an. i know the tap-out tradition isn’t common in the uk and is usually done at the airforce but oh well. read part 2 here.

[lilmarshie]

Cuddling | S. Rogers x Reader

- Steve’s cuddles are normally spent with you enveloped in his arms.

- His arms tightly around you as the two of you spend the night winding down after a long day.

- Steve loves cuddling with you after a long day especially if he’s been gone for any period of time.

- His masculine scent of his freshly showered body and a light scent of his cologne wafting around you.

- You love entwining your fingers with his as you lay there content with each other.

- Steve peppers little kisses up and down your neck gently while you cuddle.

- Steve longs for these moments of simplicity whenever he’s away.

[anxietyproblem]

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Pssst

Hey, are you an artist or writer with WIPs?

Come here... I got a secret for you pssst come ‘ere

[kittmoon]

waiting in deep suspense

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Psst you ready here comes the secret

Here it comes

[moinsbienquekaworu]

I am also very curious about this secret

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Your time spent enjoying the creative process is infinitely more valuable that any final project you create. So stop putting yourself down for never finishing or posting those WIPs because every moment you spent creating something you loved is a moment not wasted. Your progress and talent is measured by your passion not your number of posts.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

This post went from 3k to 7k overnight and that just goes to show how many of you need to hear this so make sure you don’t ever forget it

[whatareyoureallyafraidof]

[ageless-aislynn]

I don't know if anybody out there needs to read this right now but I felt like saying it:

You're important. The things you do, whether you're a creator who writes, draws/paints/etc, vids, sings, writes or plays music, writes theories, speculations and headcanons, anything at all and/or you're out there supporting others... all of these things matter. You never know who has been touched by the things you make. You never know whose day you made better by the comment you left for them.

It's easy to feel like you're alone. Like you're saying these things through the things you make or the comments you leave but nobody seems to hear you.

You're not alone. You're important. You matter. You make the world better by being here. I love you. Be kind to yourself.

[blue-m-d]

reblogging because i fricking needed this right this moment.. Thank you.. just thank you for your words. Hope your life gets full of all the good things you deserve

[reachperfection]

[estrogenesis-evangelion]

if you've never been clinically depressed, this is the short version