#me when im having a ptsd attack

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

#watching ppl go from being like ''support neurodivergent ppl~~!" #to being like ''if this is going to give u a panic attack ur fuckken stupid'' #like..... gets me #yeah man. i know im going to be triggered by it . in the old fashioned term. it is GOING to give me a panic attack. it's pretty much certai #and i shouldn't have to tell u about what i have survived for you to be okay with that. #you can just trust that i ALSO don't want me to react to it. i'm not gonna be having a FUN time. #dismissing that bc you think it's stupid.... like is the whole problem. #these sounds are workshopped by entire teams of people to get you to pay attention and move quickly. #they arent meant to be fun and exciting. #OBVIOUSLY it's gonna set ppl off. #but yeah there's something so fuckken demeaning about ppl being like. well that trigger isn't valid bc u haven't undergone X #dude i have ptsd bc i was abused as a child. like plain and simple. the fact im 30 and afraid of the dark tells you how bad it was. #i shouldn't have to ask u for permission to be mentally ill. #the reason it's a fucking disorder and not a fucking choice is that I DO NOT CONTROL IT. #like how is it any different from when ppl are like ''oh public speaking isn't that scary'' like FOR YOU #for YOU this isn't scary. now if i could fucking eat my own amygdala...

[moonilit]

just went through the second part of the AQ and to put it mildly, im not handling these sad Victorian children well

#By not handling it well i mean im crying #LUMINE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU #You worried about fucking CHILDE but not the actual CHILDREN we got in prison????????????? #Who cares if childe is dead or not freminet the actual child nearly got dissolved like mentos in coke! #Who cares about childe here??? Lynette nearly had her ptsd triggered lyney DEFINITELY got at least a panic attack #THEY ARE AT THE FUCKING PRISON WOMAN GET IT TOGETHER #also why are we having visions about childe ew and why are they fully cinematic?? Who is filming??? #Like childe funny as a meme to observe but don’t actually get him that close don’t test me know ur place #When did we even become that close with childe??? Im sorry what??? #I can’t keep seeing them kids in life threatening situations on trial then this???? #Arlecchino you are on a THIN FUCKING ICE #Im watching you!! Im watching you you better not turn into an abuser by actual standards #*break into genshin codes* stay right were you are sweetie im coming rn im going to get you out of this game into a loving family #Im not handling this well #genshin impact #freminet #lyney #lynette #yes I know im the last human on earth to do the quest leave me alone it been a busy time #Im going to kill anyone that get between me and the safety of these kids CHILDE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY PLOT YOU ARE MAKING THIS TAKE TIME

[frecklystars]

i know nobody is online rn to read this but ;-; i gotta get it off my chest i love ken so much he means everything to me he's making me so happy and i've needed him so so so bad. he's brought me comfort when my ptsd has been so fucking unbearable and every time i'm having a crying fit over losing my tf f/os or every time i'm having a flashback i ALWAYS immediately IMMEDIATELY think about him rushing to my side, holding me and saying "hey hey it's okay, i'm here, i'm right here" and it's such a relief because i haven't been able to genuinely wholeheartedly believe any character would be willing to do that for me the entire time i've been struggling this year.

i've never gone so long without comfort from f/os, much less being triggered by the ones who used to comfort me the most. so to have barbie and ken right now is like the biggest wave of relief every single day when i wake up and the hyperfixation is still there. sometimes i will literally close my eyes and sigh in relief when i hear a song and my first thought is sebastian or ken or six or... whomever. i love being in love again. i NEED this. i love waking up and my first thought isn't my trauma most of the time now, it's ken. or it's six. or it's barbie. or it's harley. or it's officer k. or it's... yeah you get it. i needed these characters so fucking badly. every time i see a gifset and get excited over it, i feel a rush of gratitude bc self shipping has always been the glue holding me together. it doesn't feel as intense or strong as the SB musical or TF used to make me feel but i am not picky. not at all. i will take anything and i'm praying this lasts for at LEAST another few weeks please

i may not be at a sense of peace right now and i dont know when i ever will be, it could be years, but im so. so. so. so so so thankful to have these characters right now when i've needed someone so badly for so long. i hope ken knows how much i love him ;-; i hope barbie knows how much she has helped me, has saved me from one of my major triggers and has helped me to love and feel safe around the color pink again. i wish they could see me when i'm not so broken but i'm glad they're here even when i'm at my worst, i'm glad they still love me even when they deserve to see me in a much better light

#it feels so fucking terrible not celebrating my bday with my starlight. i used to buy myself cakes and put his figurine next to them #i mean i still have... a little bit over one week... i cant... let it pass by without him being involved somehow #so i might make a quick vent doodle and queue it for the actual day of my bday #i refuse to not draw myself with him at least once for my special day #its not like we 'broke up' or anything but fuck it feels so bad #he's a literal fucking ptsd trigger. how fucking insane is that #im still in shock. im still in shock over what happened to me like i cant fucking believe it #wearing his necklace makes me cry so i just leave it on my dresser #that shouldnt be normal!!!! #but im hoping that shipping with barbie/ken is going to help me feel like i can reclaim control over my ships #bc my abuser made me feel like... i had no control over my TF ships whatsoever for a solid year #so now that i'm finally free of that toxicity i'm still shakily trying to learn how to ship again #i'll have moments where i'll worry ken will try to hurt me on purpose bc im so used to my abuser telling me how abusive any f/o would be #but then i tell myself 'hey what the fuck. this is MY story. NOBODY would abuse me i dont care WHO they are' #but it's so hard to unlearn several months of abuse 😔 #and even harder to look at a character who i invested so much time and energy and money into #my voice clips. my cameos. all of my steve blum autographs. my art for steve. all of it feels sad and numbing #not just stsc but everyone in any TF universe feels like... a threat and i get panic attacks when i see very specific characters sometimes #its awful. it hurts so bad. i love ken so much. but nothing compares to what i had with my TF comfort characters #but it's okay bc... ken is holding my hand and he might not understand ptsd at all but he can still squeeze me tight #and six HAS c-ptsd he GETS it. and he's there to hold me when my nightmares make me fall apart. he's my rock #vent #ptsd #sorry it's 5am i had a bad nightmare and now i refuse to sleep again #i fucking hate ptsd i fucking hate living like this i rly wish i knew how to cure myself #im exercising im eating and drinking often im sleeping as much as i can #theres only so much i can do #when does it get better?? when the fuck does it get better? im serious. not rhetorical. when does this finally heal #i dont even know if im healing or if im just distracted... but fuck ill take anything

[justabunchofdragons]

ohhh. [realising the permanence of the past]

#chaos.txt #growing up is sure. interesting huh #song triggers r so insane also. have you ever considered that. i cant listen to malinda or ts anymore cuz uhm the Thing happened #around the time i loved them #s*nders s*des still makes me feel a bit ill. when i say a bit ill if im not ready for it i feel like im 13 yrs old again #+ i will probbaly have a PANIC ATTACK lol. um. #god i miss my friends. i feel like i fucked everything up ! #anyway. just heard the original of a cover i used to listen to back then. and idk #its like. a dull ache. but its the reason for everything. its literally the reason im who i am #yes c ptsd doesnt have 1 specific trauma but i do definitely have a very specific trauma ! lol #and now i have to stop talking about it cuz </3 my heart is starting to race. stop that lol . we're safe now. im safe now

[mars-a-margo]

Slayter bater, gooning goose and silly rabbits

#uhoh girlies ive been so angry lately #so just pissy and moody and its all because #well three things: men and ptsd and lonely as all hell #and i HATE sayin i have ptsd but at the end of the day when i man yells at me and i have a minor panic attack and LITERAL flashbacks #but shit i never had a MAN make it up to me and apologize like REALLY apologize and i dont need much just maybe like FLOWERS or just effort #and my last few exes man they're good guys but genuinely still got me so fucked up #sure everyone makes mistakes and im no baby and im FULLY down to take an apology but theres no effort no CARE #“oh i want you back i really care” words are cheap like you bastards #i just want ???? someone who wont say something that'll fuck me up for weeks #is that so hard ?? #literally just PUT effort #ive got one goal in life and thats to find a LOVER and its so ??? hard ?? ill literally move country's if someone ASKED #i aint PICKY i just want to love and be loved #Spotify

[transsexualbloodlust]

.

#its like well im kind of always sad even when im having fun and it feels like Way to big for me to be able to handle and almost all the #times i try to actually like feel my feelings or whatever the fuck i either feel stuck and like i can't let it out or it's just so big that #I have an anxiety attack and the only even vaguely healthy way I have of dealing with it is smoking weed (also poetry but I can only do so #much of that) and well then i just feel sad but in a more manageable way and then i also have to deal with being high which is fun when u #Want to be but 80% of the time i dont really like being high I just prefer it to like. the alternatives #in good news I think the ptsd is like mostly gone (thank u shrooms) but like jesus when will i get better and also i don't want to like #that would be the final nail in the coffin the final like. okay it's a tragedy and it's not getting fixed fucked up!!! #anyway.

[mejomonster]

Engineering and my own capacity for self destruction really gave me ptsd in a way I could've never fathomed

#rant #shdhhd #my health issues #??? i guess? #like. yeah the complex ptsd has to do with parents yeah for sure. id have to do the working thru that #and fixing that work anyway #but the absolutely incredible self destruxtive panic attacks??? #the way wjen i panic my body is fully xonditioned to respond to stress #singularly by directing hatred at myself and wanting myself destroyed to 'fix' the cause of strwss and terror? #wild that i trained my fear response somehow to respond to fear by just panicking until im incoherent then trying to kill myself #on a lighter note i think a killer would have a hard time killing me. i can swing with a metal pan incredibly hard #meanwhile my own skull can take brick or metal at pretty much any human strength thats not incredibly unrealistic #its a miracle ive never sustained issues from any xoncussions #long term im looking up emdr therapy or whatever its called. to try abd process memories and see if that helps #cause ive done cbt and dbt which worked WONDERS on all non panic attack mental health #and ive done neurofeedbaxk which LESSENED my anxiety and propensity for panic by like 9/10 pf the time #but when panic attacks do hit theyre still just incredibly extreme. and i just cannot think during them #in engineering i kept teying to kill mhself every time panic hit so idk maybe it became the only imstinct #despite wantjnf to very much stay alive ans safe and comfortable now in my life #anyway maybe emdr would help? #neurofeedback helped significantly tho not to downplay. i was literally having mini seizures constantly. no wonder i panicked 5-20 #times a day. like if ur minds short circuiting no fucking wonder #anyway i hate panic attacks i hate lacking control over them since u knowm by definition if i xould breathe and think calm during one it #would be Over

[sokkatheboomerangbender]

Fml I hate that people find me attractive because APPARENTLY being flirted with triggers my ptsd this is fantstic

Also WHy is my trauma response fawning like hello babe that's the opposite of helping, and also how we got into this mess in the first place

#ive been having panic attacks and flashbacks #and panicking at the thoigjt of seeing my coworker who is into me #havent slept right in days #when i use deep breathing or whatever the second i stop #the memories and the panic comes flooding back in #haha im starting to get stress hives #other than this im fine i just cant be alone with my thoughts #vent post #ptsd #fuck it i guess ill get a little bit high #bitch PLEASE PLEASE learn to tell people no

[storm-of-feathers]

-

#and its not his fault. its mine for having ever used ambien for that in the past so we both know it works #and ofc he was only trying to calm me down enough so i could tell him how to help me #not to uh #not to tmi. but if im bad enough i can be violent #it doesnt matter who im with i will lash out like i think im in a bad situation again #so i dont blame him for resorting to that to help me bc worst case scenario i could have hurt him #or worse myself #if i had been sound of mind i would have stopped him but i wasnt #i cannot emphasize enough that that is the worst panic attack ive had in years #im told neighbors came knocking bc they heard me screaming #idr... any of this. my memory sorta starts fuzzy with eating mac and cheese #im not entirely sure what set off this sudden wave of ptsd tbh? #like its always bad but when the waters always cold you're used to it #but it suddenly freezes over and freezes you in it and you cant escape you can only wait for it to melt #god i dont know what did this to me normally one this bad needs a trigger #not... idk i woke up and my brain went mmm torture time #my stomach hurts my head hurts and id use ambien but im so freakin low

[aftermathing]

.

#Sorry to complain all the time but remember when I was like 'hey I am too ill and in pain to feed myself and can barely walk' #'and I'm having a three month long anxiety attack because of a ptsd trigger and leaving my dorm is so hard' #'and I barricade my door at night because I'm terrified of everything' #'and that's why I've been distant for a while' #'and I screamed for an hour in terror after leaving your house and I asked if I could come back to your house bc I didn't feel safe' #'but you didn't answer' #And they said 'im sorry buddy why don't you go to goodwill and buy yourself a trinket for your dorm? :)' #. .... . . bro........ i. ..... bro.................... #And then I had a panic attack at their house because they didn't tell me they were moving several states away in like three months #Remember when they were like 'I will save you from your abusive parents we can live together :))' and then they didn't do that #And they got a house with several people who weren't me instead #Why is your fiance's trauma so sexy is it because it's quiet and stoic and mine is annoying and loud #Why is it hot that he has walls and defense mechanisms #I have more walls than you even know!!!! No one will never know the real me because I'm so traumatized that I don't even know!!! #Cool abandonment issues bro do you mind if I abandon you about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #I have NO ONE and you have your cute little house with your fiance and better friend than me who you would rather live with!!!! #Bro my chronic pain was so bad I couldn't make food!!!!! I could have died I could have killed myself do you even care!!!!!!!!!!!!

[straawberries]

gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach

teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can

HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE

heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.

ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.

by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.

on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.

i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.

C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga

P*YP*L - @delilahkill

plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)

i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)

i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)

im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.

#undertale #pixel art #performing art #trans #autistic #actually autistic #urgent #help needed #please boost #mutual aid

[mrshesh]

i saw on your rules that you don’t write hardcore nsfw, so im gonna try to stay tame LOL

how would ghost be in bed? i feel like im so conflicted about this topic

ghost in bed - simon "ghost" riley x reader

overview: how simon "ghost" riley would be like in bed

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: smut, fluff

a/n: i'm actually so passionate about this topic. he's very misrepresented in our fandom, so i'd like to give my two cents regarding this topic. thanks for the request, anon!

TW! mentions of SA, abuse, suicide, and torture. proceed with caution.

Contrary to popular belief, he is not the rough dom everyone makes him out to be. He wouldn’t slap or spit on you. He wouldn’t push your head into the mattress and call you the filthiest words that come to mind - no, he’d be gentle, careful, and loving. 

Simon has been through hell and back - he knows what it feels like to be hurt better than anyone. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically, you name it! He knows it all, so he doesn’t get off on it. 

His past is extremely gut-wrenching. He got betrayed by everyone, even his own team. He got tortured for months and months on end, to the point where he got severe PTSD and anxiety. He suffers from nightmares and panic attacks and has even tried to take his own life. We also know that he got SA’d in the past, in the months he got gravely tortured. (Reading the comic was seriously terrifying.)

The fact that his father was abusive isn’t helping his case, either. 

And on top of that, he dislikes exposing his body and face. 

So best believe he’s only sleeping with you when you fully trust each other.

And when he does have sex with you, my god, it’s gentle. 

He loves missionary and sitting cowgirl. Being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours - those things he’d do during sex, not choke you till you pass out.

He has lost everything he has ever loved, so losing what he loves the most, you, is out of the question for him. And that results in him being extremely cautious while having sex. He’s terrified of scaring you away. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear constantly. “I love you so much.” “Takin’ me so well.” “You’re so beautiful.” 

His face is redder than a tomato. Having intimacy with someone he loves is a pretty new thing to him, so his cheeks are painted a light pink from the get-go. 

The aftercare consists of soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and praise, so much praise. 

The moral of the story - he's a gentle giant who's absolutely terrified to lose you, despite his hard rock exterior.

this turned dark really quick, but it had to be said.

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x you #cod: mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod x you #ghost mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #mw2 smut

[frecklystars]

my ptsd is horrific today it’s like I cannot go an hour without having a flashback. I keep spending money on food that I cannot keep down. I keep trying to sleep only to jolt awake after an hour and then having to go to work drowsy and shaky and lightheaded

I always feel so. unlovable when I’m like this. i relapsed on self harming again when I was clean for a couple of months and I can’t help but think that Ken would hate me the most during these times. like he’d take one look at me and just. want nothing to do with me.

he’s never seen human blood before. he didn’t know it was red. what would his reaction be to some girl crying on the bathroom floor, bleeding and vomiting profusely. it would probably scare him. I don’t know how he’d love me when I’m some… shaky and broken fragile thing

he’d think I’m too scary. i never want to scare him. he’d want nothing to do with me if he saw me like this. he’s never even heard of self harming before. he’s a plastic doll. he’d think imm. Really stupid hahahaaa I’m stupid for self shipping with characters when the idea of them not loving me has been beaten into me for so long you’d think I’d learn by now

#vent #delete later #self harm mention #I miss Ken so fuckinf bad but I don’t think he’d want to even look at me when I’m like this #i am so. unlovable somebody convinced me I am so. unlovable. #for months and months and months somebody fuckjgn beat that idea into me I’m so unlovable #and now with my f/os I cannot convince myself they’d love me #my abuser would hurt me on purpose in order to comfort me afterwards #‘I’m hurting you because I have the urge to hurt my most special friends and you’re the MOST special’ #I can’t believe I fell for that #she had me believing I am only lovable when I catered to every single unreasonable demand #and that she felt the urge to protect me and comfort me. so she’d hurt me. sick. sick sick sick sick #and now I’m either worried my f/os would hurt me on purpose because it makes me look ‘cute’ like I’m conditioned to believe #OR they would hate me when I’m having an attack and want absolutely nothing to do with me #I feel sick #im sorry for venting I’ve had a lot more ptsd breakdowns than usual in the last 5 weeks #nobody has to say anything or read this or anything like that I m just venting

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Three

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Flirting. Emotional hurt/comfort. Panic attack. PTSD. Comfort. "You'll be with him?"

“-nna let ‘im die out here-“

“-is too risky without adequate-“ 

Johnny is drowning in a sea of shattered voices, whispers of words that sound like they might be coming from Gaz, or Price, hushed prayers and promises, jargon he doesn’t understand washing over him from unfamiliar, clinical mouths. 

It’s overwhelming. He can hardly get his eyes to open, and when he does, they stay half shut for what feels like hours, even though he knows, logically, it’s mere seconds. 

He’s no longer strapped into a backboard, but a bed, and the ceiling is not metal and rivets, but white and canvas, voices competing with the constant sound of beeping. 

“Soap.” Price leans into his line of sight, hat gone, exhausted. He’s holding a sat phone, the one they usually carry during missions in one hand, a file folder in another. He looks his age, Johnny thinks, for the first time in his career. Looks like he’s spent eons in combat, like he hasn’t had a full night’s rest in a decade. “John. You’re in the hospital on base.” At the use of his government name, Johnny tries to straighten on instinct. The soft, floating feelings he’s been having for the past who knows how long have faded, and his body is starting to feel like it’s been pumped with gasoline, and then lit on fire. From the inside. “Are you with me, Sergeant?” He tries to vocalize, tries to say yes, or nod, but can hardly get his neck to work, bones and ligaments and everything in him screaming in agony. “They want to take you in a flight for life, get you home to a top hospital. Simon's already agreed, but he- he wants to speak with you.” Price wrenches his fingers open and lifts the clunky satellite phone to his face. “I rang him, on the emergency line, at home. Just… you need to-“ he stops, chest heaving with a desperate breath, an indulgence of emotion that Johnny has never seen. His captain wants to tell him- you need to say goodbye, just in case. But he can’t find the words, and Johnny can’t make it fit in his head, the reality, the stark reminder that he could not be here, in a moment. Or an hour. A day. “Open your eyes, John. Stay awake.” 

“Johnny.” The Manchester accent crackles through the receiver. Johnny can almost see him, cell pressed to his face, pacing in the living room. He wonders if he’s got the fireplace lit, if it’s chilly now that it's turning to winter, if there’s been frost on the windows of their little house. If Simon is wearing a pair of sweatpants, if he’s got the television on as he tries to make dinner. “Johnny. Sit rep.” The status check comes through harsh, but the truth is tucked away beneath the grit. Fear. Life altering, heart breaking fear drenches every syllable that spills from his partner. 

Pain sizzles through his muscles, across his brain, but he swallows it, shoves it down into a dark hole for another minute. 

“Pretty banged up.” 

“They’re going to lift you to a hospital,” He thinks he knew that. “and you’re goin’ be alright. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Ah love ye, Si.” It’s all he can say. All he can think about. The excruciating agony that is radiating through his body robs him of everything else. 

“I love you too. Hang on.” Johnny grinds his jaw, blowing short breaths through his nose to try to control his pain response, and then holds his breath when soft babbles echo through the phone. “It’s Da, Pen. It’s Da. Can you say Da?” 

“Da?” Penny mimics her dad, and Johnny wonders if they’re sitting on the couch, Penelope tucked up against Simon’s chest, wispy curls tickling just below his nose as she climbs all over him like a jungle gym. 

“Ma wee lamb.” Johnny whispers. “Ah love ye, Pen.” There’s more babbling, half strung together words, more than appropriate for a fourteen-month-old, and Johnny’s temples shine with tears that drip from the corners of his eyes. There’s talking, around him, people bustling back and forth. A hand brushes against skin, sharp pinch squeezing along the inside of his arm. 

“Can you say, I love you?” Simon encourages, but Johnny knows it’s a lost cause. 

“When she’s old enough to understand, ye tell her Ah loved her, loved her so much. Ye an’ her, is all I ever wished fer.”

“Stop.” Simon breathes. “You’re going to be fine.” 

There’s another poke in his arm, someone lighting a fire in his veins, and he loses the battle to his eyes once more. 

Your neck grumbles in protest when you try to twist it, working out tight muscle and tendon, rolling it across your shoulders and down, back and forth, over and over again.

You should go home. 

You know you should. It’s two hours past seven, you should already be home. Should already be in your flat, showering the workday off and crawling into bed. You could be having a tea, snuggled up in your sweatpants, moving playing on low in the background. Warm, safe. Nearly asleep.

Johnny twitches beside you. His fingers clench in the blankets and then relax, face smoothing out in his dreams. The mask is gone, replaced with the cannula that loops beneath his nose, and the monitor beeps in soothing, reassuring, stable tones. One chime right after another, relaying his vitals to where you sit in Simon’s chair, feet slung over the side, kindle in your lap.

You made a promise. 

And even without that promise, for some reason, you couldn’t just leave Johnny here to wake up alone. The idea of him coming to and being confused, or scared, again, made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Even before you promised Simon to stay earlier, you already knew.

You wouldn’t be leaving.

“He’s had a seizure.” Simon’s eyes widen above the mask and then flatten into something harder, something almost distrusting. “Neuro’s done an exam and they’re of the opinion there will be no long-term deficits, but we’ll need to wait until he wakes to be sure. They’re still trying to figure out what caused it, but most likely it's a result from surgery.” He moves to shoulder by you, no doubt trying to beeline back to Johnny’s room, but you hold your hand up with a pause. “I can’t let you go back in there yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“He’s not awake.” 

“I don’t-“

“Simon, this is the ICU. I don’t know who or what strings you pulled to even be allowed to sit with him in there twenty-four seven, but it’s not the norm. You won’t be allowed back in that room until we are sure he is stable.” You don’t tell him that you don’t want him to be there when Johnny wakes in case there are deficits, that you’re trying to save him from the pain, the heartbreak, of seeing things that patient’s loved ones are not meant to see. 

He regards you silently, and you fidget under the scrutiny, waiting for him to speak, trying to ignore how your mouth is going dry. This isn’t the first he’s watched you like this, stared at you like he’s trying to pick you apart, and you swallow your grimace until the long moment passes, his voice low, gritty with stress. Exhaustion. 

“I’m supposed to go home today for a bit. I… don’t want to leave ‘im.” 

“You can still go. He’s sleeping for now, and when he wakes, they’ll have to do some more tests that you won’t be allowed in the room for anyway.” He looks down the hallway towards Johnny’s room, before his eyes find yours, heavy with grief, indecision. 

“You’ll be with him?” He can’t hide the hopeful inflection at the end of his question, his need for a light in the dark of this situation. 

“I-“ The thought didn’t occur to you, to not be there. You imagined you’d wait until Johnny was cleared by neuro and Simon was allowed back in the room, but the morning has dragged on, and he’s been sleeping peacefully. There’s been no desire to wake him unnecessarily. “Yes. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”  

“He go home?” Johnny’s voice, scratchy from sleep and medication and everything else, startles you from a half doze, spine straightening into a rod before you’re leaping to your feet, leaning over his prone figure.

“You’re awake.” You find his good hand, slipping two fingers into his grip. “Can you squeeze my hand?” When he does, tightly, more strength in it than you were expected, you give him an honest, happy smile, and retreat to the end of the bed, flipping up his blanket to poke at the bottom of his feet. “Can you feel that?”

“Aye.”

“And this?”

“Aye.” He huffs at you, impatient. “Did he go home?” You sigh in response, hand on your hip.

“Yes.”

“Finally. Been tellin’ him he had to. The man’s back ‘s not made to sleep sittin’ up.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t want to leave. I told him I’d sit with you.” You reach over to press the page button, looking intentionally away from where those bright blue eyes track you, sweet and soft and open, lips slightly parted. “How’s your pain? I’m not on the clock any longer, so I can’t page the neurologist, but they’ll have come and do a few tests.”

“Ye wanted to sit with me, pretty girl?” Your face gets hot, blood pooling beneath your skin, pit of your stomach liquifying into something honeyed and potent that flows through your veins until you swear you can feel the room getting warmer.

“How’s your pain?” you repeat your question, words dumb on your tongue.

“A five.” You raise an eyebrow. “Alright, a seven. And a half.” The days nurse knocks with perfect timing, all hustle and bustle, bright and cheery, and asks Johnny the same questions, keeping up a perfect stream of small talk between you and Johnny until Neuro is standing at the foot of his bed, and you’re excusing yourself.

“Okay, I’m-“

“Dinnae leave.” He protests, voice quiet. Your stomach lurches at the vulnerability there, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“I’m just going to get a tea.” You promise, even though you know he’ll probably be half loopy by the time you’re back, and the dayshift nurse gives you a nod, acknowledgement of his state, an understanding that she’ll be here with him.

Not an hour later, your pocket chimes with a text from the dayshifter as you half sip your tea, letting you know that Johnny’s exam is done, and as you pass her in the hallway, she gives you verbal confirmation of what you were hoping for: his brain function is normal. He’ll have to go for CT later, but she’s just given him another dosage for pain management. You yawn in the middle of her pass-on, and she tells you that she'll keep an eye on him. You can go. 

She's not wrong. 

You need to go to bed. 

You know your presence at your patient's bedside won't be viewed as unprofessional, since others have done it in far less severe situations, but the pendulum your emotions swing on every time you step foot in that room leaves you with a sinking feeling that's starting to crawl across your skin.

You wanted this. You wanted to stay with him. 

Simon asked you stay with him. 

Yeah, but for how long? He cannot expect you to spend all day here. You have to go to bed. Are you just going to leave him all alone? Are you going to wait for Simon to come back? 

The dread spiral is easily answered when you slide open the glass door and lay eyes on the very handsome man from the other night, the younger one from the chair vigil, now sitting beside Johnny, the two of them softly chuckling.

When Johnny spots you, he manages to fire off your name as a half-effort introduction, more than expected considering his slowly slipping state of consciousness.

“I’m Kyle. Soap an’ I work together.” Soap? Who is Soap? 

“She doesnae know me b’ Soap, only calls me Johnny.” He explains your confused look, to which Kyle raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Letting your nurse call you Johnny, eh? Simon better-“

“Ach, stop.” He rolls his eyes, but sleep tugs his lids downward.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You give Johnny and his monitor a once over, catching yourself on his sweet, sleepy gaze, flushed face and lazy smile, before directing your attention back to Kyle. “I told Simon, I’d sit with him for a bit before he got back, but…”

“I’m here in his place.” Kyle explains, motioning to the chair, and you breathe a small sigh of relief. You will get to go home and get some sleep, after all. 

There’s a woman with a confused look on her face just outside the elevator. She looks exhausted, skin raw under her eyes, clutching a baby who’s maybe a year, or a bit older, in her arms, glancing up and down the hall before she spots you.

Fuck. You’re still wearing your scrubs. 

“Hi.” You smile, and she visibly relaxes, obviously relieved. The baby tucks her face into the woman’s chest like she’s shy, coyly looking at you from corner of her eye. “You look lost.”

“I’m looking for the nurse’s station. My husband was supposed to meet me here but he’s running late and I-“

“It’s all the way down, take the first left, and it will be at the end of that hallway.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” She glances at your ID, punctuating her gratitude with your name, and you give her another smile, leaning to extend towards the baby as well.

“So cute.” You tell her, pressing the elevator button with a ding.

“Cute. But she’s a little terror, especially when she’s missing her Da.” She grumbles, and then waves, setting off against the white tile as you laugh to yourself. Pretty much sums kids up. Cute little terrors.

A week passes easily, beds and rooms changing over, room two sixty-eight remaining a constant. Johnny takes his battles on the chin, burn debridement on his side, casting for his wrist, removal of his chest tube, a third surgery. 

“He’s a fighter.” Simon tells you one night in the dark after he’s slipped off to sleep. “Always has been. He's strong. Spirited.”

“I can see.” You agree, holding out the extra blanket you’ve pulled from a cabinet. When Simon takes it, his eyes meet yours, something soft shining in them, and you give him a smile in return. 

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “For everything.”

A few days later, you’re surprised, and secretly pleased, to find Simon in the café.

He’s standing in front of the counter, paying for what you think might a baked good of some kind, sweet lady behind the register eyeing him up suspiciously as he deposits the note into her hand, and you stay on the outside of the doors, lingering in the hallway, watching.

At least he’s eating something. He’s still wearing the mask, and although it’s not uncommon, especially in a hospital setting, it does give you pause. Does he wear it all the time? Is it just because this is a hospital? He observes the room, steadily taking in all of the people meandering about, some eating, some standing, making their selections, engaging in conversation, and you notice how his hand slides to the back of his neck, distractedly rubbing the hair at his nape before he makes his escape, long legs eating up the distance between him and the door, him and… you.

“Hi.” You squeak when he steps into the hall, turning the corner to find you standing there like a deer in headlights, your water bottle clutched in one hand, phone in the other. His head tilts, eyes narrowed, and you manage to give him a half smile. “Getting something to eat?”

“It’s for Johnny.” He notes. “I ah, had something to eat earlier. When I was home.” Oh, good. Being in the hospital twenty-four seven isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even patients. 

“Cool.” Cool? What is this, a pub? You swallow your embarrassing, awkward acknowledgement, breezing past the word like it didn’t happen. “Well, I’m about to badge in, so I’ll see you in a bit?” He nods, eyes still trained on your face, and you beat back the heat that’s spreading through your body like a fever when they drift down to your shoulders, and then to your badge.

“Cute sticker.” He points to where it’s clipped to your top, shiny bunny sticker from a patient’s child still there, holographic print sparkling in the dusk.

“Oh, thanks. Another patient of mine has a little kid. I was hanging out with him for a bit yesterday.”

“Suits you.” His gaze dips downward, glancing over the curve of your hip, plush from the swell of your ass, taut pull of your scrubs all of the sudden feeling too tight, too stretched across your waist, and you scramble to make sense of his comment. 

“A bunny?” Your brows raise in disbelief, confusion, but he only nods, head tilted slightly, posture broad. Your brain turns over, frantically trying to think of a response, something clever, but he continues to talk, clearing his throat with a question.

“What do you call a line of rabbits hopping backwards?” Huh? 

“What?”

“A receding hare-line.” Wait. What? Is he… joking with you? Your mouth drops into a little o of part surprise, part confusion, before you squint at him in disbelief.

“Oh… my god. That’s…”

“’s not that bad.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, giving you the impression that he might be smiling beneath the mask, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating.

“It’s pretty bad.” You croak, nervous laughter bubbling up in the back of your throat. “Well, I… uh-“ His phone dings, pulling his focus to the screen, and he swipes out something quickly with his thumb.

“I’ll see you up there.” He jerks his head towards the elevator, and you mumble out a mild, flabbergasted reply.

“Alright... yeah.”

Your first break comes up fast. Your morning, everyone’s evening, is busy, with a code, a tricky vent, and a needy, elderly man in two fifty-two. It goes from busy to worse, an argument with the pharmacy heating your blood, spurring anger through your veins and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep from berating the poor tech at the window. Useless. You seethe in your mind all the way back up to your floor, frustration driving you to seek solace, eager to escape the eyes of the hospital, running away from the possibility of being noticed.

But supply closet 2b is occupied, a frazzled resident huffing into a pillow in the back, hyperventilating with tear-stained cheeks.

Without even fully realizing, you find yourself inside two sixty-eight, Simon’s sharp eyes falling upon you with scrutiny. He looks at Johnny’s monitor like something might be amiss, relaxed posture straightening into something tense, structured. There’s a card game in progress on the swivel tray table over Johnny’s lap, the glaring reality of your interruption, and you blanche.

You’re immediately incredibly embarrassed. What are you even doing in here? 

“Miss me already?” Johnny coos, beaming, and your throat feels dry. He’s feeling the best he has since he got here, albeit not great, still in awful pain, still staring down the barrel of more surgeries, but the pain medication from earlier is working its way through his system, and you’re happy to see it’s taking the edge off it all for him, allowing him comfort and conversation with his partner.

“My um… usual break spot is occupied?” You don’t know why you phrase it as a question, it just comes naturally. Like you’re seeking permission. Agreement.

“Ye want to sit with us? While ye eat?” Johnny asks, somewhat pointing to your yogurt cup, and you shrug, but Simon motions to the extra chair, the one that now sits on the other side of the bed, across from him. Guess facilities finally brought down that recliner you requested. 

“Would… would that be alright?”

Johnny looks to Simon, and Simon nods. Slowly.

Your yogurt goes down easy, light chit chat bouncing around the room, Johnny nodding in and out with drawn out answers to your questions, until a noise startles you from the chair, pushing you onto your feet to peer out the door.

It’s a man, yelling, screaming, from a room down the hall, not from sadness or despair, but rage, and your mind goes haywire when security is paged over the PA system.

Deep breath. 

This happens sometimes. Patients, or loved ones, become disruptive. Secrets and lies all come out in the wash in a hospital. Custody agreements, battles, DNRs, last wills and testaments, any of these things are a perfect tinder box. One match, and it all goes up.

A siren blares.

“Code black, code black.” echoes through the hospital, each room on every floor, down every hall.

Johnny startles from his near sleep stupor, eyes alert, the outline of his muscles solid beneath his gown.

Security risk. Lockdown. 

You straighten your spine.

Deep breath.

This is your job. 

Part of your job is being able to handle things like this. Protect, take care of your patients, and their families. Keep them safe.

The man shouts again, sharp tone of anger snapping through the air and across your frame, forcing your muscles tense.

You slide the door lock into place, pulling the curtain to only allow a small line of sight.

“What’s going on?” Simon stands, turning towards the door, and Johnny pats his hand, like he’s trying to soothe him.

“Oh, uh. It’s… just a lockdown. I don’t know.” You’re vaguely aware of the numb feeling that’s spreading from your chest down into your hand, and the sound of the irate man gets closer. Fuck. 

“Ye okay?” Johnny’s voice is gentle, and when you glance over your shoulder to reassure them, you realize they’re both watching you, Simon’s eyes locked onto your now trembling fist, as Johnny regards you softly, with kindness.

“Um. Yeah.” You suck in a quick breath, forcing yourself to steady, gritting your teeth against the frozen, involuntary fear that’s trying to overpower you. You think Simon might be frowning beneath the mask, confusion shading his question.

“Why are you standing at the door?”

“It’s standard operating procedure. If there’s an issue, or a disturbance. If you’re in a patient’s room, if I- I’m in a patient’s room, I’m supposed to act like a… barrier. Just in case.” You keep your eyes fixed out the glass, watching for any sights, listening for any sounds. The door is locked, and glass is thick, and security would be here if anything were to happen, they’re already down the hall, everything is fine. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep-

“Go sit with Johnny.” Simon's standing just behind you, voice pitched low, sweetened into one of those softer hums, the kind of tone he usually uses with Johnny. Not with you. He’s so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and you shake your head with a refusal.

“I have to stay-“ He cuts you off, not even letting you choke out the rest of your quivering protest.

“No. Go sit with Johnny.” He pauses, stepping around to angle his body in front of yours, looking down at you over his shoulder, and you think, for a moment, you see a glimmer of the tenderness there that’s reserved for Johnny. “Please.”

“My wrist hurts.” Johnny calls hopefully to you, mischievous smile and eyes sweet, his good hand outstretched with an open palm. “Need ye to rub it.” Simon nods, serious look quashing any rebuttals you might have, protocol and procedure slipping far from your mind as you let yourself drift to Johnny’s side, settling back into your seat previously abandoned. Johnny offers you his wrist, smile fading when he looks closer at your curled fingers. “Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

“Low blood sugar.” You lie. The man in the hallway shouts again, closer, loud and awful, roiling with rage, and you inadvertently tense, jolting minutely in the chair.

“Hey now.” Johnny reaches for you, gentle touch against your skin, warm fingers holding onto yours. You look down to where he tries to give you comfort, where he tries to soothe you, instead of the other way around, as it has been, as it should be, and you get lost in it, the idea of comfort, the feeling of care. It makes your heart stumble in your chest, almost like you can’t breathe, staring off into space, trying to pretend like there isn’t a man screaming down the hall, like you’re not the person you are, buried beneath the insurmountable weight of scars, memories of pain and fear etched into the very tissue of your brain, the backs of your eyelids, every strand of hair.

Ingrained inside of you, forever.

Someone says your name, and you blink back to the face of your patient, who looks to Simon, his expression unreadable until it shifts into tender warmth, re-focused on you. “What is it?”

“I-“ You picture yourself, letting your lips go loose, entrusting your secrets and worst fears to these strangers, these men who you don't even know, who don't know you. “I’m exhausted.” You offer, and shadow flickers across Johnny’s eyes. It’s not a lie, not technically. You’re always exhausted.

“Ye-“

“Code black lifted. Code black lifted. Lockdown complete. Resume normal operation.” The PA system drones, tension between your shoulders draining, and you jump to your feet, palms and fingers smoothing over your scrub top.

“Well, I’ve got to check in at the nurses’ station now. Protocol.” You explain, nearly tripping over yourself on the way to the door. Your heart is still raging inside your chest, beating faster than it should, and you steady your breathing with a mental count. One... two... three... one... “I’ll check in on you later.” You promise over your shoulder, slipping by Simon to disappear down the hallway. 

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #john soap mactavish #simon riley #ghoap #soap x ghost #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #simon ghost riley

[diordeer]

౨ৎ SWEET

“if you want someone, then just call me up, and remember where I'll be: sweet in bare feet, you can find me where no one will be” - lana del rey (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, who is literally just a cutie pie and everyone loves her, face claim is shay rudolph

description: guys i need to stop playing safe bc i was dming this guy but then ghosted him bc hes a bit of a pathological liar but like… he kinda cute

requested by: @tomblythsslut

Liked by leahsavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln 🐱🐱

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user1 shes so real for practically mainly only posting pics of her cat

↳ yn.ln he’s my muse and also runs the cult… that im- um in 😊

↳ user2 this is so real, every cat is borderline terrifying

↳ yn.ln he attacks me WHILE i cuddle him but gets mad when i go away like make it make sense

↳ user4 yn is my muse

user3 i literally love her shes so cute

iamcharliebushnell i am terrified of your cat i think i get ptsd whenever i see a pic from him after last time

↳ yn.ln WHAT?! he loves u rly 🩷🩷

user5 yn and her cat is my roman empire

dior.n.goodjohn the angle in the last pic is KILLING me

↳ yn.ln wdym he always looks like that 🤷‍♀️

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell and others

yn.ln 0.5s on set (+ dior 😘)

tagged walker.scobell, dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries

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walker.scobell i cant believe u cut me out!!

↳ yn.ln i thought putting u on the cover would make up for it 😣

↳ aryansimhadri WHAT AB ME

↳ yn.ln ill star you next time im so sorry 😔

user1 she knows what the fandom wants and feeds us gourmet meals

leahsavajeffries charlies glasses 4 life

↳ iamcharliebushnell moneys well spent

↳ yn.ln i still need to have a go with them 😣

↳ iamcharliebushnell ok bet ill bring them next week

user2 whats happening next week!

↳ user3 girl shut up leave them alone

↳ user2 ummm..?

dior.n.goodjohn i cant believe i get the starring role in this post

↳ yn.ln ofc pooks 😘

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell and others

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yn.ln ice cream with my pookie pies!! <3

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user1 WHO IS THIS WHO IS THIS

↳ user2 whoever it is better be some dream guy bc NOTHING can happen to yn

leahsavajeffries u can never go wrong with mint choc chip!

↳ yn.ln exactly!!!!!

user8 POOKIE PIES

aryansimhadri im still waiting for my feature !!

↳ yn.ln NEXT POST I PROMISE 🙏🙏🙏

user3 guys ik this is a stretch BUT she did call charlie a cutie on her story

↳ user4 yeah but i feel like she would call everyone that

↳ user5 OK BUT IF THEY WERE TOGETHER THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE

↳ user6 ok onto this theory charlie literally posted on the comments of her last post that they were seeing eachover next week AKA THIS WEEK!!!

↳ user7 oh my god oh my god oh my god

aryansimhadri pookie nation!!!

↳ yn.ln going strong 🫡

iamcharliebushnell i cant believe you would get mint choc chip when chocolate was the obvious choice

↳ yn.ln excuse me 😃

↳ user6 “WAS”?

↳ user2 y’all reading into stuff like maniacs

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #social media au #smau #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #instagram

[bravo4iscool]

Could you maybe make a comfort one with Simon or Soap please? Like the reader has trauma and gets triggered by something and has a panic attack? If not that's okay! You don't have to! <33

but what if i did both👀? hehehehehehehe

this is an amazing idea! since you didn‘t mention if reader is civilian or military i‘ll go with military… but technically this could also be civilian lol

all i know about ptsd i know because one of the main characters of my favourite series (ray perry from seal team) struggled with ptsd after he was taken hostage. i’m in no way a expert about this whole topic or anything else…

reader‘s call sign is „venom“. and for the love of god idk how to imitate a scottish accent, so please don’t hate me cuz i didn‘t do it🧍🏼

btw IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! i’m in my final 10 weeks of school and it’s so stressful😭😭

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

john „soap“ mactavish

soap didn‘t know that something was off. he suspected something—maybe—but he wasn‘t 100% sure. so, when you start to disassociate, your pupils dilating he at first wasn‘t sure how to act.

„ey, ey!“ he nudges your shoulder, a visible frown on his face. „venom? venom, hey!“ you don’t answer, your gaze darting around the room.

he waits another second, wondering if you’ll answer but then it clicks and he knows what’s going on. you’re having a ptsd period.

he carefully stepped away from you and looks around. he needs to find out what exactly triggered you. “i’m gonna step away for a second, okay?” he tells you, taking one step after the other.

your head twitches but you don’t answer, only stumble back a little bit. soap wasn‘t unfamiliar with ptsd, ghost suffered from it too, but he didn‘t know you had to fight it. you‘ve always acted to strong and put together, so what was your trigger?

„soap?“ your weak, rasp voice calls out for him and immediately he’s beside you again, his hand reaching out for you. „soap, don‘t go,“ you plead, your hands shaking when you grasp him, your knuckles white and your grip bruising. you choke out a, „don‘t leave me.“ and he promises he won‘t.

„i‘m here,“ he assures you, carefully and gently removing your hands from his arms and placing them around his waist so he can properly hug you. „i won‘t leave; ever.“

you sink into the hug, your hands crunching up his shirt with your grip. you were save, no? you were safe…

you weren’t…there. you were here; with soap. he was holding you, keeping you sane. you didn’t need to worry about anything.

he’d keep you safe.

simon “ghost” riley

the moment simon realizes you’re having another ptsd episode he’s beside you, his hand hovering over your cheek.

“stay w’me, venom,” he murmurs, his gaze searching for yours. “c’mon… stay w’me.”

when you make no sign to move he slowly exogenous his hand so it fully cups your cheek and he pulls you close.

your hands slightly tremble and you look at him with blown eyes. your breath is staggered and you feel this familiar yet unwanted rustling in your ears. you want it to stop.

“take deep breaths love,” simon instructs you as he cradles you hand in his to hold it against his chest. “j’st like i do.”

tears start to gather in your eyes while you try to focus on simon but your thoughts were screaming at you, dragging you down that hole you didn’t want to drown in.

“y’doin’ amazing,” he whispers in a gentle voice, his other hand pulling your heard against his chest with careful hands. “j’st like that. perfect.”

you let out a couple of chocked hiccups as you try to relax against simon’s body, doing all the tasks therapy taught you.

“‘m sorry,” you swallow in a voice rough from crying.

“no, none of that,” simon frowns. “y’doin’ exactly what y’were taught.” his one hand tightens over your that’s laying on his chest, his other he buries in your hair. with a careful movement he places his chin on top of your head.

“d’nt ever apologize f’havin’ problems,” he tells you in a quiet voice, his hold on you tightening.

he’d never let you go.

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader