Hey, idk if requests are open but could you write a fic where the reader gets back stabbed by her only friends (them shit-talking her behind her back when she’s already going through shit) and Ghost’s reaction to the reader telling him about this?
It’s literally just happened to me so it’s kind of sucky. Thank you if you do end up doing this, it means a lot to me. Take care of yourself and have a lovely day <3
𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Summary: After a long and difficult mission that completely goes wrong you return to base for a much-needed break. Instead, you're met with harsh words overheard by the friends you held dear, and it breaks you. Luckily Simon is there to hold you for as long as you need.
OR
Simon is sweet and soft and holds you close as you cry.
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Warnings: Bullying, cursing, mentions of violence but other than that it's just really soft. Hurt/Comfort is my favouriteee.
Author's Note: Hi Anon, I'm sorry it took so long for me to finish your request, and I'm even more sorry that this happened to you. But you don't need my pity, instead, hopefully, this fic acts as a bit of comfort, what happened to you was really shitty. Ghost will make it feel better though :))
It was a gnawing sort of feeling, betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worse thing in the entire world, something that anyone would look at and be forced to look away from because it was that terrible. But what made betrayal ache was that in the before, in its place, was trust.
Trust comes differently to everyone, to some it may be as simple as a flick of the wrist, whereas for others it may be a slow uphill climb, but once established, it should not be broken. It should never be expected to be broken, because at its root that is what trust is, is it not? To place a piece of your soul into another person’s hand and believe that they will treat it gently.
And yet sometimes, people grasp onto that and squeeze as tightly as they can until it shatters into irreparable pieces.
~
“Gods they’re such a fuck up all the time, who wants to place bets as to why their mission failed? Oh! I know! Them,” Roxanne had sneered before laughing along with the rest of the group. The group you had once called friends. You listened in from the shadows as they talked loudly in the corridor, false hope building in your chest because maybe, just maybe, they weren’t talking about you.
“Gods I don’t even know why they were allowed to go in that mission in the first place, Ghost and Soap? They’re the best of the best, and then…” Lucille said, trailing off and allowing them to fill in the blanks. Your heart drops, weighing as heavy as the gear you still wore from the mission. You hadn’t even had time to go back to your room yet and word had already spread of the result of the mission.
You had seen your friends in the hallway, ready to go greet them all before you overheard their conversation. About you.
It had already been a difficult few weeks already. It seemed as though every mission you had gone on went awry. Whether it’d be faulty intel or teammate injury, hell, one time the people you were after weren’t even at the base you were set to infiltrate! Regardless, you had failed.
The one mission prior to this one had been the worst though. You were on a recon mission when all of a sudden the enemies were raining down hellfire. You were the sniper of the team, their eyes in the sky if anything went awry. It allowed you to protect your team in a way you couldn’t on the ground. It was a difficult gunfight but your team was pulling through and the end was near. But then you spotted a child huddled behind a dumpster a bit of a ways off in the distance, trembling as she covered her ears from the sound.
You had radioed in that you were going to help her, but received orders back that you were to continue killing off enemy soldiers until there was no one left, it would compromise the mission should you abandon your team for this child.
But you knew that your team could handle themselves, and like hell you were going to let this little kid be out there in the open. That was a death wish! And you were not going to see a civilian die if you had a say in it. So you had dropped your position to save this kid, putting her in a safer spot until the end of the fight.
Your team had made it back alive, with a few more injuries than necessary, but alive. But that wasn’t good enough for your superior, so you got the chewing out of a lifetime.
“The HELL were you thinking compromising the entire fucking mission for a god damned civvy?! I could have you written up for this, disobeying direct orders when the entire team was in danger. You know your duty, you cannot compromise the mission, whatever the fuck the reason may be.”
All you were able to squeak out was a ‘Yes, Sir’ before you were sent out of the office, tears threatening to fall.
That mission had eaten away at you for the longest time and had you questioning whether you were right enough for the job. Putting the mission first? Even at the risk of killing innocents, you had the capability of saving? That mission was the breaking point, and whispers began on base as people began to recognize the common factor in each of the missions that went wrong. You.
It was a miracle it didn’t meet Simon’s ears really, how often people would gossip behind your back. You knew that if he even caught the faintest wind of it he would be tearing people apart left and right.
Your sweet, sweet boyfriend.
You knew that he noticed something was up, but that man was anything if not patient and would never prod at anything you weren’t willing to tell. Because he understood better than anyone that sometimes things were difficult to talk about. And so, he waited for you to come to him. But you never did.
“Isn’t that a little mean? I mean, you know missions don’t always go to plan, even the best of the best still mess up. And isn’t she ranked the best in our unit? Surely-” Stella said before she was cut off sharply.
“Enough, Stella, you know she’s not worth it,” Mikayla bites back snarkily, making Stella shrink into herself.
Well, at least one person stood up for you.
“I don’t care if they’re Ares himself, why should they get to go on these high-profile missions with the 141 while we’re out here getting the scraps?”
Oh, so that’s what it was. Jealousy. A disgusting emotion, no doubt, but that wasn’t an excuse to be horrible to someone you called a friend.
They were your closest friends on the base, the ones you had movie nights with, and went bar hopping with knowing they would protect your drink with their life. You were close to the 141 too, but with them, it was a different vibe entirely. 141 were your friends and colleagues, but they also knew you as Simon’s partner as well. But the other friend group, well, seemed as though they weren’t your friends as much anymore.
How long had they been thinking like this? How many times had you hung out with them only for them to show their fakest selves?
Looking back now, it all began to make sense, all the backhanded compliments and snarky comments. You brushed them off as playful banter but it all added up now.
You didn’t even have the heart to confront them, because while they were being cruel, there were many moments too precious to you that you wanted to cling onto. At least for a little while longer. You knew it wasn’t healthy, Gods know that if you could let them go in a snap it would be so much better, but it wasn’t that easy.
Tears brimming your eyes, you slipped through the shadows and out of sight, headed to your room where you could take a shower and just forget it all.
You walked through the hallways silently, head tilted toward the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anyone else’s judgement, not today at least.
Right as you arrived in front of your door an arm is held up in front of you, blocking your way. You blink hard to force away the tears before your head snaps up to the person. All you’re met with is the familiar pale skull mask, and the comfort it brings you makes a sob climb up to your throat that you choke back down.
“Mind if a join you for a bit?” Simon asks, voice gentle as his gaze trails over your face and the expression you can no longer find the ability to hide from him.
You only nod as you go to unlock your door, knowing that your words would fail you if you tried to speak.
He follows you closely from behind, clicking the door closed. At long last you could let your guard fall down, tears pouring from your eyes as you sob. Your legs no longer have the capability to hold you up as you lose yourself to the sorrow, but before you can hit the floor Simon is capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest.
He doesn’t say anything, knowing that nothing he could say right now was what you needed. No, all you needed at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved.
With careful hands he guides you to the bed, lying down first before pulling you down on top of him. One arm was wrapped around your waist as the other was gently holding your head, allowing you to cry into his sweater.
And that you did, for longer than you would admit. You loathed crying, it felt weak, it’s what was instilled in you since you were young. You knew this wasn’t the case, but habits were hard to unlearn. Crying was a way to express emotion, a healthy and normal way to, but in this type of work, you couldn’t afford to show emotions. That’s what got you, and others, killed.
But you were only human after all.
So you cried, and you cried, and Simon only held you close, even as his own heart broke as he listened to your broken sobs. If he could will your pain to go away, to become his own, he would do so in an instant. But that’s not the way the world works, so he would be here for you in every way that he could.
~
After a little while your sobs had died down to only the occasional sniffle, the tears run dry. You don’t say anything though as you try to collect yourself fully, but that was alright with Simon. He does however sweep you away to the washroom, carrying you like a bride that brings the tiniest quirk of a smile to your lips at the cheesiness of the action.
Placing you down on the countertop he wets a washcloth wordlessly, before trailing it up and down your face with soft hands, the dried-up tears washing away with it. The tenderness of the action makes your heart melt as you lean into his touch, soothing the pain if only a little bit.
“Wanna tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, his mask long gone, taken off some time in between when you were crying and now.
You can’t help but reach out to stroke over his face, a smile gracing your lips that don’t quite meet your eyes, but it's an effort. His face was still rough with stubble after the long mission, not that you minded in the slightest. His eyes close as he relishes your touch.
“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been, rough, lately, I guess. All the missions that have been going wrong, they have just been piling up I suppose, and they were weighing me down.”
His eyes open as he listens to you speak, the hazel colour meeting your own, leaving you feeling like you were bearing your soul for him to see.
“That one mission with Captain Oberon was the worst I think. I know saving that kid was the right thing to do, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I mean, if I can’t save one fucking kid in a job that’s supposed to ‘save the world’ then what good am I for?” You say, your tone irritated at yourself more than anyone.
“But I think that was the breaking point, where I started to question what I was really doing here. What’s ‘top of my unit’ if I can’t do the one thing I’m meant to do? That’s…when the whispers started. Saying how I was the reason missions kept going wrong, how I was the ‘bad luck charm’ and such,” Simon’s eyes harden as he takes in your words before he collects himself, knowing now was not the time to be angry.
“And I know that they’re not my fault, believe me, I do. Things go wrong all the time on the job, it’s what’s expected really. But then,” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes well up once more.
Simon’s thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.
“But then I come back from our mission today, and I see my friends in the hallway talking. Here I am, thinking that I can find a moment of repose in this difficult world when all I hear is them saying these cruel things, about how I’m the fuck up, and how it’s not fair that I get to go on missions with the task force because I don’t deserve to. And I know that I’m not the reason why missions go wrong because sometimes that’s just how the world goes, but…” your head slumps over, forehead pressing into Simon’s shoulder.
“But when half the world tells you that you’re the reason why, it’s hard not to believe them too,” you whisper brokenly.
For a moment the washroom is silent, but all at once Simon’s arms are wound tightly around you in a hug so all-encompassing it only makes you cry once more.
“Never believe what they say, alright doll? You are one of the best soldiers I have ever seen on the field, your tactical skills and intelligence carry every team that you’re on, and I say that with every ounce of truth. I have never seen anyone more efficient and fucking badass than you, don’t forget that now, alright? I will continue to say this until you believe me entirely,” he says, his tone final, so full of confidence that you can’t help but believe him too.
“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him.
“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened as thoughts of what he could do to everyone who has done you wrong fly through his head at 100 miles per minute.
“No,” you say panicked before recovering, pulling away to look at him. “no.” A bit more softly.
“I can deal with them myself. I know I don’t have to prove anything to them, but I can damn well show them that I’m meant to be where I am. Their jealous asses can suck it,” you say harshly but self-assured, and Simon can’t help the smirk that forms on his face. He was proud knowing that you could more than handle yourself.
...That did not, however, mean that he was not going to put them through absolute hell in training.
“There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You show them, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, the first true smile forming today.
“Let’s go make some pancakes,” he says, sweeping you up into his arms. On instinct your legs wrap around his waist.
“Right now?” you say with a laugh, and he can’t help but chuckle along.
“Right now.”
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