Not proofread, English is not my first language, forgive any grammar errors
Simon knew something was off. However, he couldn't tell what was happening. You seemed fine, normal.
Complying all of your obligations. Following your routine like nothing happened. But simon knows, he knows you like the palm of his hand. He knows the little bag under your eyes appears when you're not having enough sleep. He knows the little shake on your lips when you smile. Or how you fidget with your fingers on the meetings. He recognizes the way you zone out in your own thoughts when no one is looking.
Was late at night. Almost midnight. And you were at the training room. You had just finished your routine, normal. When you could feel him. A pair of eyes looking at you. When you turn your head, you saw him.
"Simon" you offer him a little smile.
"What's up with you." He said, arms crossed over his chest and eyes focused on your sweaty face because of the training.
"Uhm, training?"
"No, you know what I mean."
"I have no idea what are you talking about, simon" Yes, you did know what was he saying. You know he could read you like an open book
"Dove. Stop pretending with me. You know it doesn't work." He approaches you, arms still crossed.
"I.. I don't know wha-what are you tal-king about.." your eyes start watering while your voice cracked and your head fall on Simon’s chest.
"That's it. Let it out sweetheart." Simon started rubbing the back of your head, playing with the hair of your nape.
"I have been doing everything, fulfilling my tasks, training, hanging out. But anything seems to work, simon.. I feel empty. I can only feel a void in my chest. I-" you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the sobs of your crying.
"You know you don't have to cope with all those feelings on your own, bird." His voice was firm but soft. He knows for years to know exactly what you need in these moments. Let it out.
"I had tried everything. But nothing seems to work, si.."
"Shh I know, i know sweetheart. "
Simon knows you don't need solutions, you need to feel safe, you need to feel that someone listens to you.
Simon carried you, arms behind your knees. Your head falling in the crook of his neck.
He walks you to your dorm room. Opened the door and laying your body on your bed.
"Stay there." He said and walked away entering in your bathroom.
You heard the shower running water.
"Let's take a bath." Simon started to undress you and you let him, you let him manhandled you, because you had no strength to do it on you own. You melt into his touch.
He washed your hair, so gently.
"Open your mouth sweetheart"
You did it. He brushed your teeth. "Spit it out, that's it. Good girl"
He even chose the pijama, and you didn't care, that was the best thing someone could do for you.
He comb your hair and made a braid. "That's it. Now, let's go to sleep."
That night ended up with you curled on Simon’s arms, sobbing and crying, but this time, those tears were happy ones.
constructionworker!ghost protecting us after we go to a construction site because were being followed by a man after a bad night at the club because like im epic and cool 🤤
construction worker!simon riley x fem!reader
"jesus," simon huffs, a bead of sweat working down his forehead. he licks at his dry lips, throat aching for a sip of water. he looks over to the boss, john price who stands utop the half-done building's roof, inspecting for any mistakes and fuck ups.
he's been working at it since sun up, and now he watches as the sun slowly disappears from the sky. simon isn't worried. he knows his work is accurate and lacks imperfections unlike these other lazy slackers. some of these bastards don't even know how to properly lay down some tile—
"uhm—excuse me? s-sir?!" simon hears a female voice shriek from behind, which, alarms him because there no females construction workers on site today.
he instantly whips his head around, raising an eyebrow bewilderly as he locks onto a young woman in a tight silver dress and heels stumbling her way towards him. she clutches at her black handbag in one hand and her iphone in the other.
simon's blood boils, what is this chick doing at a construction site in a tight ass dress? "what the bloody hell are you doing?" he yells out, rushing towards her with his fists clenched. simon judges that, based on her choice of clothing, that she must've came from one of the pubs nearby.
"oh—uh, well i–woah!" she squeals, her flappy heels slipping on the wet pavement that was freshly laid out this morning, leaving heel prints. she falls forward, but luckily simon manages to catch her in his arms, holding onto her by her shoulder and waist. his nostrils flare, picking up the dizzying scent of alcohol and fruity perfume off her. "uhm, i'm sorry, hic, i was trying to, uhm," she struggles, flattening her palms against his damp chest, peering up at him with glazed doe eyes.
she stutters, her drunken mind struggling to comprehend the size of the man before her. "wow, you're like, really big," she slurs, dumbly smiling at him. in her state of mind, her core clenches at the strong scent of a man, sweaty and dirty with dust and dirt.
simon flinches at her words, realizing that she's hardly even a threat to his work. "uh, thanks? what. are. you. doing. here?" he questions, voice gruffy with annoyance. she whimpers, wobbly even while she attempts to brace herself against him much to his dismay. "you don't needa be so meannn," she whines, pushing him herself off her him with the equivalent of strength of simon swears is the same as his young nephew.
"just came back from that pub, uh—the wh-whale?" she babbles, snapping her fingers while she concentrates the best she can to recount the name of the pub she came from. simon only stares at her blankly, "the wharf?" she perks up, gleaming at him like he hung the stars for her, "yeahh, that one, was bar hopping with my girls but they all left me, with this guy," she rambles, running a hand through her blowout, "he kept tryna to kiss me!"
simon slowly nods, tilting his head at her curiously. he rolls his eyes when she squeals again, looking down at her feet, seeing dirt and wet pavement on her manicured toes and heels, "oh my gosh, this is literally couture!" she groans loudly, throwing her head back.
"that's what happens when you walk onto an active construction site," he remarks, shaking his head at her disapprovingly. the sky is beginning to turn a dark blue, the sun hardly over the horizon anymore. his eyes flicker back to her, feeling the tiniest bit of empathy at her incessant pouting, her lips plump and glossy.
"come on," he shrugs, guiding her by the back of her shoulder with a light hand, "i'll show you to the exit."
simon's hand grows tighter on her as she stumbles her way alongside him to the exit. she cowers against him, the other construction men whistling and calling petnames at her. "gee, you men are all so gross," she complains, giving dirty looks to the old men who leer at her without shame. "dont any of you have any shame?"
simon sighs heavily when he sees the tall exit sign come within eyesight, happy to get rid of the yappy girl out of his ear and sight. she cheers when she steps out of the site, happy to be on dry, grippy concrete. "ugh, i gotta throw these away now.."
she peers back up at him, innocently batting her lashes at him. "what was yer name?"
simon hesitates, is there really any point in telling this girl his name when they won't ever see each other again? but with another bat of her lashes at him, simon feels a strange sensation in the lower part of his stomach, like worms or something.
"er.. it's simon," he says defeatedly, scratching at the back of his nape with dry palms. she smiles wide at him, holding out her hand for him to shake. "well thank you simon! i'm y/n," she says. simon reaches out without a word to shake her hand, but quickly finds himself hesitating when he realizes how dirty his hands are in comparison to her own, shiny with moisture and glittering with rings.
"me hands are dirty," he says gruffily, and she seems to pull away with embarrassment as result. "ah okay, well bye, simon," she nods, before stumbling off to the sidewalk and off her way to god knows where.
simon shakes his head, muttering out a disbelieving "women," before turning around back to his construction site. he stops, staring off into the darkening sky.
"siiimmmon!" a shriek from the distance calls, the voice familiar and feminine. "not again," he mumbles, before hesitantly turning around. he blinks rapidly with confusion as he watches the same chick from earlier come towards him, running as fast as she can in her strappy silver heels. "help! he's back!"
simon raises an eyebrow. who?
she comes to an abrupt stop right in front of him, circling around his body and cowering against his back. "what's the bloody matter with you?" he asks, enough of this random woman's antics and he hardly met her fifteen minutes ago. she huffs and puffs out of breath, "the guy from the whale, he's right there!"
simon looks to where she pointed, his eyes focusing on another young chap, who is clearly intoxicated, probably more than this girl. the guy stumbles and mumbles his way towards them both, whistling high for her attention.
"he's coming!" she shrieks loudly, to which simon shushes her, "christ shut the hell up." she trembles and shakes into his back, her hands gripping onto the cotton of his stained tee. he watches like a hawk, standing at full height as the guy comes closer and closer and eventually he's only five feet away and tilting his head at the two of them.
"think there's shhomeone behind you," the guy slurs, pointing at simon.
simon tilts his head back, seeing y/n peer up at him with pleading eyes. he looks back, unfazed. "yeah?"
the guy nods, coming closer and stepping around simon, until simon is pressing his silt covered hand flat against the intoxicated man's chest. "don't think she wants ya," he says, nodding back to her without breaking eye contact with the shorter male.
"nah, she was laughing at the pub wit' me," the other guy quips, pointing at himself. simon tilts his head.
silence.
you shiver against simon, the cold air sobering you up.
"fuck off mate," simon simply says, low and unfaltering. the other guy is visibly taken aback at the sudden hostility. "what? what's your problem?"
simon feels his blood boil, his fists clenching at the guy's persistence. "i said. fuck. off," simon spits out, stepping forward and pressing his built chest against the other guy's. simon thinks, if this guy is smart, then he'll know better, and back off. who wouldn't when they are being pressed by a 6'3" 300 lbs man?
"she ain't interested," simon declares.
the other man stares with wide eyes up at simon, flickering from him to the girl a few feet behind simon, she chewing on her painted nails nervously.
it seems that the man isn't as drunk as simon believed him to be. he visibly swallows hard, before finally backing off. "yeah, smart man," simon snickers, watching as the drunkard stumbled away with his tail inbetween his legs.
he remembers then that you're still there, turning around. his eyebrows furrowed and jaw tight. you're a small thing compared to him, shaking like a leaf from nerves. he wonders what might've happened to you if you stumbled to the wrong guy.
"thank you," you say softly, wrapping your arms around yourself in attempt to warm up. "ill go now."
you walk past him, back into the direction you originally took, before you hear a gruffy voice call at you. "you got a ride home?"
you turn back around, shaking your head no. "took the tube."
he winces, imagining another bloke harrassing a helpless you. he clears his throat, trying to figure out the best way to offer his solution. "i get off in thirty—if you wait around a bit i can give you a ride, maybe."
the way your eyes light up becomes simon's cherry on top of his previously fucked sundae. you nod enthusiastically, "okay, okay, yes! thank you," grabbing at his still dirty hand and shaking it frantically. simon huffs, "yeah, yeah, okay," fishing out the keys to his truck out of the pockets of his jeans.
thirty minutes later as promised, simon finds himself dragging his feet to his truck, worrying that he might not even find it in the parking lot in the more. he mentally scolds himself, giving his keys to a fucking stranger he just met out of pity.
but he finds his truck in the same spot he left it in this morning. he opens the driver door, and tries to find himself surprised to see you passed out in the passenger seat, and as he starts the car and rolls out of the parking lot, he realizes he doesn't even know your fucking address.
he guesses you'll just have to come back home with him tonight.
a/n : i hope you enjoyed this fic! thank you for the ask this was fun to make!
You know he loves you, there's no secret about that. Ghost is far too blunt and uncaring to put up an act. Still...you notice how underneath the fat he's all muscle and strength and fit. Underneath your fat it's just...fat.
"Lovie? Wots wrong? Yer not eating yer food." Ghost narrows his eyes on his first night back from a two month op.
You've made his favorite, the exact meal you cooked on your first date together. Rich, creamy pasta and buttery garlic bread. You don't touch it, despite how much you want to, despite loading ghost's plate up with two servings.
Instead, you pick at the salad you've come to hate over the past weeks, and mumble "I'm uh...I'm trying to lose some weight, si."
"Huh?!" Ghost gasps, sounding absolutely devastated. "Why would you do that, love? What's wrong, did I do something??"
"What– no!" You flush, avoiding ghosts face even when he takes your hands, "it's just...isn't it embarrassing? Walking around with me when you look so good? I hear what people say..."
People astonished that someone as hot as ghost would take pity on an ugly, fat thing like you. With your double chin and belly that hangs out of nearly every pair of jeans you own.
Ghost, he makes an absolutely wounded noise.
"Embarrassed? Fuck, no lovie. Do y'know how 'ard it is keeping my hands to myself in public?" Ghost grunts, doesn't hesitate to walk around the table and kneel by your seat, looking reverent up at you "how much i want to just leave it all behind and move away with you? How i think about you, all of you, during bad missions?"
Ghost moves the salad out of the way like it personally offended him, spoons that delicious pasta and your favorite amount of sauce onto a plate instead. "I want you, got it? C'mon, eat. Need yer energy before I eat you tonight."
That makes your face burn with more than just tears. So you eat, and god is it good. Ghost smiles with every bite, happy to share this moment with you, happy to keep you fed, happy to have you.
Waitress!reader, who's a new hire, working part time in a restaurant to make just enough money to support yourself through uni.
Youve been having the absolute worst day, from losing the assignment that you were supposed to hand in today and getting reamed out by your professor, to having dropped a tray of waters at the start of your shift, a preemptive sign that the rest of your night would be tough.
You're just trying to make it through your shift, when you get a table of crude, middle aged men, who make you feel anything but pleasant.
You do your best to cater to their needs and try be as polite and neutral as possible, despite wanting to give them to another waiter, but as usual, the restaurant is overwhelmed and understaffed.
Line cook!Simon who's been watching the pretty little new hire get progressively stressed as your shift goes on. His heart aches for you a bit. A pretty little thing, doing her best to make ends meet, whilst dealing with idiot customers.
Simon who feels his jaw tighten whem you come back into the kitchen, teary eyed, explaining to another server how one of the men at your table tried to hit on you and grabbed the back of your thigh.
Simon who tells you to sit in the walk-in for a bit, whilst he goes to deal with your table, he was needing some fresh air anyway.
Simon who soon comes into the walk-in pantry with a little plate of chips and hands it to you with his now-bruised hands. He pats your head softly, before gruffly saying 'take a break, yeah luv? Go' someone on yer tables'
...Line Cook!Simon who refuses to address his soft spot for you, telling the whole kitchen to shut up when teasing him about it. They can see the faint pink on the tips of his ears though.
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