the-cult-of-riley

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act Two: Chapter Three)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

Man, I’ve been feeling like shit lmao

My b12 anaemia has been kicking my ass and I’m not even joking. I went to see Greg Puciato on the 10th and I legit spent the whole first two starting bands throwing up and almost passing out, with zero alcohol consumed. I thought I was gonna die but refused to go home ‘cause no way was I missing Greg loooool I pushed through and it was the best show I’ve ever been to, even if I felt on the verge of death. I also picked up some germs ‘cause now I feel like I’ve got the flu and I haven't even got over whatever I was dealing with before.

I don’t know why my brain has been really struggling with this chapter. I have so much of Act Two mapped out but it's mostly the action and the fun and the angsty bits and the making up and all that. The little in-between parts to get there haven't been written and my brain really wasn't playing ball. Sorry for any typos, It's currently 2 am here and I've literally just finished writing and quickly editing it lol

In the name of our Lord and Saviour, Simon Riley, I beseech you to strike the writer curse from my weary body and allow me to continue feeding my hungry children with Ghostly content.

The last wisps of sleep were still clinging onto Charlotte’s consciousness when she felt her bed dip and the covers rustle and move. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her brain trying to comprehend the shit show that had become her life. For a brief moment, she thought she was back home, dying under the weight of grief and raising a child alone. But then she realised this wasn't her bed, these weren’t her bedroom walls and her husband wasn't dead. She still felt that grief though, it wouldn't shake even if he was breathing and now she had a heaping scoop of betrayal to go along with it. She rolled over to the source of what woke her up to see Beth beside her, giving her a cheeky smile.

“Good morning, mummy,” she murmured tiredly, scooting closer and wrapping herself around Charlotte like a snake. It made all of her tension seep from her body, even if only for a moment. She loved these moments in the morning with her daughter. They made her feel like she was glued back together briefly. 

“Good morning, pickle,” she smiled softly and Beth made a disgruntled noise like she always did at the nickname. They didn't need words as they cuddled together as they both woke up and Charlotte tried to will some backbone to leave the room at some point. 

They’d need breakfast and she hoped Simon wouldn't be in the mess hall. She wasn't sure how Beth was supposed to bond with him when she wanted him nowhere near her. She knew she needed to suck it up for Beth’s sake and Simon was lucky she’d do anything for their daughter. 

“Did you have a good sleep?” Charlotte asked, her fingers stroking through Beth’s unruly curls. The girl shot her a bright smile with a nod.

“I did. I’m excited to go and see daddy at breakfast! Can we go yet?” she asked eagerly and Charlotte tried to stop her stomach from tying itself in knots. 

“Let's get dressed then,” she flashed her best fake smile and Beth giggled, rushing to get out of bed as Lottie sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Can we match, mummy?” Beth asked hopefully and Charlotte nodded.

“You pick what you want us to wear,” she instructed, watching with a fond smile as Beth rummaged around in the bag, pulling some things out and leaving them strewn about the place. 

She picked out two matching hoodies that had Placebo across the chest. Hers was real merch but they didn't make kids stuff so she’d wound up using fabric paint to replicate it on a kids hoodie. She picked out black leggings to match too. They both got dressed in their matching attire, boots to finish off the look and Charlotte really didn't feel like making much of an effort with her hair with how she was feeling so she threw it up into a high pony. Naturally, Beth gave her a look and was only placated once she also had a high ponytail that looked nothing like Charlotte with her blonde curls.

If she thought she felt nauseous on the way to the mess hall, it was nothing compared to how she felt when they strolled in, hand in hand. It felt like everyone’s eyes turned to the two civilians on base and she knew she wasn't imagining how they all murmured to each other. Maybe word travelled fast. 

One pair of eyes in particular felt like they burned her right down to her bones and she glanced over to the table housing the 141, seeing those deep brown hues staring right at her. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her and she looked away quickly, ushering Beth to the food. She grabbed two trays, feeling guilty that Beth was babbling about something but she was struggling to pay attention. She scooped some scrambled eggs onto the plates and some bacon. She was just scooping some beans too when someone approached. 

“Well then, who’s this wee pretty lass?” 

Charlotte turned to see Johnny standing there, a smile that she could only compare to sunshine on a rainy day as he peered down at Beth. she clung to Mr Snuffles tightly, blinking up at the man.

“I’m Beth,” she answered sweetly and Charlotte watched as Johnny crouched to be closer to her height.

“What a beautiful name,” he grinned and Beth beamed at him.

“What's your name?” she asked curiously.

“I’m Johnny but people call me Soap,” he answered and Beth giggled.

“That's a silly name!” 

Johnny snorted with a nod.

“Aye, it is, but it's mine and I love it. We need to get you a call sign, aye?” he asked and Beth toddled closer to him, eyes wide as she nodded.

“Yes please, Mr Soap,” she clapped her hands excitedly and Charlotte didn't miss how she was drawing attention. 

“Alright., let’s think…” Johnny rubbed his chin, making a show of thinking and it made Beth giggle again.

“Do ye have a nickname already? We could use that,” he suggested and Beth pulled a face.

“Mummy calls me pickle sometimes,” she muttered gloomily and Johnny chuckled.

“Nah, we don't want a name like pickle, do we?” he asked her, pulling the same face she had and it made her laugh.

“What kinda things do ye like?” he asked her thoughtfully and Beth’s face lit up.

“I like Halloween and spooky things. Ghosts, skellingtons and pumpkins. I like monsters,” she made fake claws with her hands and growled at him. 

Being the good sport he was, Johnny yelped dramatically, falling on his ass and Charlotte couldn't help the grin on her face as she watched the pair, Beth laughing brightly at him. She was quickly warming up to the man. 

“I have the perfect name for ye, and it kinda goes with yer daddy’s” he announced, looking pleased with himself and Beth was practically bouncing on the spot.

“What is it?” she asked eagerly.

“Spook,” he declared with a flourish and Beth’s eyes were almost sparkling. 

“I love it!” she beamed, dancing about a little, the bunny in her hands getting thrown about in the process.

“Awesome!” Johnny grinned, holding his hand up to her and she slapped him a high-five harder than he expected if his wince was anything to go by. 

He stood back up, a slight groan leaving his lips as he back popped. 

“Now that's settled, let's eat, aye?” he smiled, turning to look at Charlotte as he gave her a warm grin that had her smiling back at him.

“Alright?” he asked her and she nodded, feeling somewhat better by his soothing presence. He seemed happy with her answer, clapping her gently on the back before he swiped Beth’s tray so Charlotte didn't have to carry two. 

Beth was happily chatting to him as the three of them made their way over to the table. Price was at the head of the table to the right, the bench along the back housing a man she didn't know with a cap on his head and a calming smile aimed at her. She smiled back nervously and looked away, her hands tightening over the tray. There was an empty spot beside the man and Johnny plonked into it, not before putting Beth's tray on the other side of the bench which was empty. On the head of the table to the left was Simon, whose eyes were glued to her. Beth’s tray was placed beside him and that left the spot between Beth and Price open for her. 

She noticed two of the men who were there at her outburst the day before weren't here but she was glad. It was bad enough being around just this small group, especially because she’d spilled her heart out in front of them. Worst of all was Simon though and the only respite she got from his burning gaze was when Beth climbed up on the bench, having to sit on her knees to reach her tray as she beamed a blinding grin at him and his eyes now went to his daughter.

“Good morning, daddy,” she smiled up at him. Charlotte wished to tear her eyes away and yet she couldn't, seeing his dark eyes peering out of his mask at Beth, all soft and gooey. It was the same look she had herself when her daughter was being sweet. 

“Mornin’, lovie,” he murmured quietly and Charlotte swallowed thickly. 

“So! Introductions since this spooky bastard won’t be makin’ ‘em,” Johnny started with a smirk and Beth gasped, slapping one hand over her mouth, the other pointing accusingly at the Scot, making him go silent.

“You swore!” she exclaimed and the whole table went quiet as they watched her. Charlotte bit her lip to stifle a laugh as Johnny blinked at her for a moment before he let out a laugh.

“Aye, I did, I’m sorry, lass,” he murmured with a grin and Beth raised a sassy brow at him.

“You owe me a pound now,” she held her hand out expectantly and Charlotte watched the Scot look to the girl's hand before back at her face.

“I owe ye?” he asked slowly and Beth nodded.

“We have a swear jar and every time mummy swears she puts a pound in and then I get to spend it,” she flashed her teeth in a toothy grin and Johnny’s lips quirked upwards as he glanced to Charlotte and then back to Beth.

“Well, I don’t have a quid on me right now, but I’ll owe ye one, aye?” he asked and Beth sighed with a nod.

“So, ye already know the Captain and this creepy fu- fool…” he trailed off after curtly cutting his words so he didn't owe even more money to the mini Riley. He slapped Simon on the shoulder and Lottie watched carefully as his dark eyes slid to Johnny, mild amusement and annoyance shining behind them. But when those eyes slid back to her, she felt like a lightning bolt struck her right in the chest and she looked away quickly, picking at her eggs. 

“This one is Kyle Garrick, also known as Gaz,” Johnny finished as he gestured to the only man on the table she hadn’t met yet.

“Nice to meet you Mr Gaz,” Beth smiled sweetly at him. The man smiled, a soft look on his face.

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied politely, his eyes turning to Charlotte then.

“You too, Mrs Riley,” he smiled and her hand tightened around her fork.

“Charlotte’s fine,” she muttered tensely and she could practically feel Simon’s eyes burning into her.

“And all you fuc- idiots know Charlotte and Beth, now also known as Spook,” Johnny gestured to the little girl with a flourish and she grinned, making a spooky noise while she wiggled her fingers.

“You gave her a callsign?” Simon asked and Charlotte couldn't decipher his tone. It was so detached, different to what she was used to with him.

“Course I did. She loves spooky shi- stuff, so it felt right. You like it, aye, Spook?” he asked her and she giggled, nodding her head.

“I love it,” she answered happily before she turned her deep brown eyes to her father.

“Do you like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes hopeful and wide as she stared at him. He just watched her for a moment and Lottie was starting to think he wouldn't answer her.

“I do. Suits you,” he answered, reaching out slowly and stroking her head softly. Her smile widened as she leaned into his touch and Charlotte felt a burning in her chest. 

“We need a call sign for Charlotte then,” Gaz commented, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Grim,” Simon answered before anyone could suggest a thing. Had he shot her in the chest? It felt like it. So many memories flooded her system, memories of a happier time, of a time where he hadn’t betrayed her trust, hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t hurt her. 

“Aye, that's good. Ghost, Spook and Grim, a proper family,” Johnny snorted gleefully

“What can I say? I like a good theme,” Simon answered dryly but she heard the amusement and it sparked an annoyance in her. 

Five years he’d been gone, five years he’d fucked off, only to live in their old base. Was he here every day eating with his friends and cracking jokes like she wasn't at home raising a child alone and drowning in grief? Did he really care that little that he hadn't even checked in with her once? Didn't have anyone look into where she might be, what she was doing? Would he have even bothered to come back if he knew Beth existed? Would he have come back for her? Did he like it here without her? 

She pushed her tray away from her, a vile feeling creeping into her chest like an infection that was spewing puss. She didn't want to be here.

“Mummy, your breakfast,” Beth murmured, looking up at her carefully.

“I’m not hungry anymore, sweetie,” she replied but her voice felt far away, floating out of reach. 

It felt like her eyes weren't seeing, she couldn't get out of her own head. She suddenly felt warm leather on her cheek and with a start, she realised Simon had reached over Beth to cup her cheek, turning her to look at him with pure worry in his gaze. She jerked her head from his grasp like he’d burned her and his arm dropped back down. She didn't miss the pure anguish in his eyes. She needed to get out of here, she couldn't break down in front of everyone, not in front of Beth.

“How about I give ye that tour we were talkin’ about?” Johnny asked her with a grin but there was something on his face that touched her, soothed her spiralling. He’d never offered her a tour, he was giving her an out and in that moment, she knew Johnny meant his promise from the night before. 

“Sounds good,” she forced a smile and Beth grasped her arm.

“Mummy… could I stay here with daddy?” she asked with a smile and Lottie hated the pain that lanced through her chest. 

It shouldn't hurt her that she wanted to spend time with her dad, she’d only just met him and they had a lot of lost time to make up for. Yet she couldn't help the burning jealousy that hit her out of nowhere. He hadn't been here, it wasn't fair that he got to covet her and she got left in the dust.

“That's fine,” she answered, trying her best to keep herself in check until she left. She stood up quickly, not looking at anyone and not really bothering to think about manners to the other men at the table as she rushed out of the mess hall and outside. 

Johnny was right behind her, hand on her back as he led her to a bench. She crumbled onto it, resting her face in her hands. She didn't want to cry, not again. She was sick of it. She wished she could just pretend it didn't bother her what he did. That she could just be happy he was here, happy he was alive. She couldn't shake the feeling of abandonment though. That the one person who swore he’d never do that to her had done it without care. It hurt so much that she felt she might die.

“It's alright, love,” Johnny murmured sympathetically as he rubbed her back. 

“I just… he’s been here this whole time while I’ve been suffering ,” she lamented, feeling like her sanity was slipping through her fingers. 

“I know… I know, lass. I wish I had the words to make this all better. Ye didn’t deserve to go through all this,” he sighed sadly, his hand still rubbing her back. Silence settled over them for a moment as she fought the deep urge to cry, sitting there staring out at nothing as she wondered how it all came to this.

“Ye wanna blow some shit up?” Johnny asked out of the blue. Her eyes darted to him, wondering if he actually meant what he said and he gave her a roguish grin that told her he did indeed mean it.

“Okay,” she nodded with a sniffle. Johnny’s grin widened, a gleeful laugh leaving his lips as he jumped from the bench, grabbing her hand and yanking her with him. He all but dragged her through the base to get to the demolitions section where training was held. 

Ghost sat stiffly, watching as Charlotte rushed from the mess hall, his best mate in tow like a little puppy at her feet. He couldn’t get that haunted look she had out of his fucking head. She looked so lost, adrift at sea with no anchor to tether her to the world. He’d been that anchor once and now he was the cause of her spiralling. He’d wanted to be her anchor again and his touch had brought her back, but it wasn't the reaction he was hoping for. 

Having her pull away from him like that was more painful than the gunshot wound to his collarbone last year. The fleeting contact he’d had with her filled his dead heart up with so much warmth before it was snuffed out like it was never there to begin with and he cursed himself for wearing his fucking gloves. He just wanted to be okay with her again, wanted her to accept his touch, wanted to fall into her arms and have her make everything okay again. 

It wasn't okay though, it hadn't been for a while and this was his doing. He wasn't sure he’d ever be able to fix it and having Johnny be the one glued to her side was like salt in his wounds. He knew it was a good thing, Johnny would try and get her back on his side like the good best mate he was, yet it still stung. Hurt like a bitch when he saw her embracing Johnny while she refused his touch so viciously. How easy she’d fallen into Johnny’s arms, how desperate for comfort she was. It hurt. It really fucking hurt . 

He was brought out of his depressing musings by a tug on his hoodie and he glanced down, remembering the little girl sat next to him. Her brown eyes were blinking up at him carefully, tilting her head like she was sizing him up. She was so beautiful.

“Daddy?” she asked him, her voice soft and sweet, wrapping him up like a warm blanket.

“Yeah, lovie?” he asked quietly. It was like no one else existed in that moment but her. She nibbled her lower lip as she shifted where she sat for a moment, looking deep in thought. 

“Can we do something?” She gave him a hopeful smile and despite looking so much like him, he saw Lottie in that smile and he wasn't sure if that eased the ache in his heart or made it worse. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asked, unsure what four year olds liked to do and even if that was possible on a military base. Her eyes seemed to light up as she flashed him a bright grin.

“I know!” she shuffled off her seat, moving to stand as she grabbed his hand and tugged on it impatiently. He stood, seeming to tower over her and she refused to let go of his hand as she started pulling him along. He couldn't hear Gaz’s witty remark but he heard Price chuckle at them both as he left. 

He allowed her to lead him until they got outside and she kept pulling him until they moved over to the patch of grass that ran along the gates near the car park. She let go of his hand and he watched curiously as she plonked herself down without a care. She looked up at him expectantly and his lips tugged up slightly as he moved to sit on the grass with her. 

“Daisies are really pretty,” she murmured happily as she started picking them. He’d never really noticed them before but now she’d drawn attention to them, he noticed they were scattered all over the grass. 

He had no idea what to say, couldn't remember how to act around kids, it had been far too long. Part of his brain tried to remember how he’d interacted with Joseph but that was far too painful and he shoved it away quickly. He wanted to bond with her but he really had no clue how, so he just watched her. 

She picked a bunch of daisies, her tongue poking out of her mouth a little in pure concentration as she started fiddling with them. He couldn't really tell what she was doing with them but after a few moments, she grinned triumphantly and put a flower crown on her head.

“What do you think, daddy?” she asked him sweetly and he melted into a puddle looking at her. The sun shone down on her and he wondered for a moment if he was dead and she was in fact an angel. 

“Perfect, love,” he murmured, his throat feeling tight and uncomfortable and he had to clear his throat to ease the sensation. 

Her smile widened even more and his chest felt like it was expanding. She picked a bunch more and he was helpless, could do little else but watch this little part of himself as she busied herself with the flowers. He still hadn’t fully wrapped his head around the fact he was a father now. 

He’d been so ready for it back then, when he’d left for the last time. He’d been so excited to get back to Lottie and start a family. He’d been excited to watch the bump grow, to watch Charlotte glow as she carried their baby, looked forward to the scans and all the milestones. Looked forward to holding a tiny bundle of his own, much like he had when Joseph was born. 

He didn't have any of that though and it was all his own fault. He’d missed out on the most precious moments of Beth’s life because he was a coward. He’d never be able to get those moments back, he couldn't undo what he’d done. Knowing all the things he’d missed made him wish he had died back in Mexico. It would be a relief from feeling what he was currently feeling. 

He flinched with a blink when something touched him, rousing him from his thoughts. Beth was standing in front of him now, a cheeky grin on her face as she put a crown of his own on his head over his balaclava. He felt a rush of warmth flowing through him and he really didn't give a toss who saw him wearing it. She’d made him something and he wished he could keep it forever, wished it wouldn’t wilt away. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he smiled softly even though she couldn't see it. It was like she could sense it or maybe she was perceptive for her age and picked up on the scrunching of his eyes because she beamed at him, such a radiant smile he wanted to burn to a crisp from it. 

“You're welcome,” she smiled, kissing his cheek over his mask before she moved away. 

He was overwhelmed, too many thoughts and feelings running rampant in him and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. An explosion across base felt like it shook the floor and Beth jumped up, a worried look on her face that had a protective streak surge through him. He steadied her with his hands and she settled closer to him, plopping into his lap as if she’d done it a million times before.

“What was that?” she asked with big eyes, looking towards where the noise came from.

“It's just the demo practice. Its where they learn about bombs and things,” he explained, hoping to ease her worries. It seemed to work as she relaxed into him more. 

“So, it's not bad?” she asked him, blinking her pretty eyes at him.

“It's not bad. You don't have to worry, lovie, I won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you,” he meant those words wholeheartedly. He’d burn the entire world down with everyone on it to keep her safe. 

Another explosion happened and this time Beth seemed fine, pressed into his chest as she sat on his knee. While he wasn't worried as the noises were coming from the demo area, he was sure there weren't any classes or training today. It wasn't uncommon for Johnny to go and play around a bit, the only one to get away with it as the demolitions expert and being one of the 141. Was Lottie with him? Was it them making all this racket?

His eyes drifted back to Beth then, happily sitting on him with their matching flower crowns. He wanted to know more about her, all the things he’d already know if he’d have been around. 

“You wanna play a game?” he asked her and she grinned up at him.

“What kinda game?” she asked him excitedly. 

“We ask each other questions to find out more about each other,” he suggested and there was a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes. 

“I already know everything about you. Mummy told me,” she beamed, sounding more than proud of herself. He felt like someone just gutted him, sliced him right open and let his insides splat onto the floor. He pushed it away though and tried to ignore it. Of course Lottie told her everything. 

“How about you tell me stuff about you, then?” he asked her hopefully and she clapped her hands excitedly. 

“My full name is Elizabeth Anne Riley,” she started. No, he hadn't been gutted before, he was now though. The pain that ricocheted through him tore through skin, muscle and bone. He bit down on his lower lip hard behind his mask, drawing blood. The sensation grounded him though as he nodded, trying not to look too upset. 

“That's a lovely name,” he muttered, voice strained and choked. Her smile turned softer then, blinking up at him and she leaned into him more.

“It's a special name. Mummy told me I was named after special people,” she murmured. His chest felt so tight that he felt like he couldn't breathe. Without thinking about it, a hand came to stroke her hair and he found the feeling soothing to him, easing that ravaging ache in his chest. 

“I’m four but I’m five in two weeks,” she held her hand out, wiggling her fingers at him to demonstrate her point and he felt his lips tug up a little at her excitement. 

“My favourite colour is…” she trailed off, tilting her head with that thoughtful look on her face again. “Black. I like black ‘cause it's all spooky,” she flashed him a toothy grin and he melted once again. 

“Mummy’s sketty is my favourite meal but I also love when she does eggy bread on my birthday,” she beamed up at him and he swallowed thickly, still stroking her hair as he nodded.

“They’re my favourites too,” he replied hoarsely and she gave him a cheeky look.

“I know,” she giggled and he made him smile. 

Without warning, she hopped off his lap, his hand suddenly cold now it was no longer stroking her hair but she flopped down next to him, laying down and making her crown fall a little onto the grass.

“Lay down,” little one was bossy and he knew he had no choice so he obeyed. He held onto his flower crown as he shuffled around before laying on his back beside her. He moved his hand back to his side even though he was sure the crown had slipped off into the grass anyway,

“Do you like clouds, daddy?” she asked him softly. He turned his head to look at her and she was laying there, staring at the sky. 

“Never really thought about it,” he replied honestly. She turned to look at him then, scrunching her face up with the most judgmental look he’d ever been given.

“Look at the clouds. Sometimes they look like things,” she murmured.

“I’ve seen that sometimes. Once I saw a cloud that looked like a co-... clock,” he muttered, shaking his head as he changed his words. Wouldn’t bode well for him as his first day being a dad coming out with that. 

He still remembered that day though, in the sweltering heat of Al Mazra in the middle of a mission. Wasn’t every day you see a cloud shaped like a fucking dick in the sky and he’d have thought he was hallucinating due to the heat if it wasn’t for Johnny seeing it too. The Scot had said it was the best thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire life. When Soap had got Price to look, the shape had changed and the old man was sure they were off their rockers. 

“Look at that one, it kinda looks like a bird doing this,” she pointed at a big cloud before she started flapping her arms around weirdly and he shook his head fondly before he looked back up at the clouds. He just watched them go by for a moment, enjoying the peace he felt. Something he wasn't sure he’d felt in a long while.

“That one kinda looks like a bum,” he murmured, pointing to a cloud.

“Daddy!” Beth burst out laughing, smacking his arm and he found himself laughing. Actually genuinely laughing and not the half arsed chuckled Johnny would draw out of him with a bad joke. It was an odd feeling to laugh like that, he was sure he hadn't done it since before he’d left for that mission, the one that ruined his life. It made him feel lighter.

“You can’t tell me it doesn't,” he huffed playfully and she laughed again.

“... It does, but you're still silly,” she snorted, making his whole body light up. 

She was so precious and he wasn't sure just how to handle it. He was sad things with Charlotte were so bad and he didn't want to think about how the hell he was supposed to fix that mess, but being able to spend time with Beth and bond with her meant the world to him. He could focus on Beth for now, one thing at a time. He’d build his family back up from the ground, brick by brick. He’d done it before, back with his brother and his mum and he could do it again. It’d be painful and probably take a while but he wouldn't waver, wouldn't give up. Not when he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. He couldn't give that up for anything.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act Two: Chapter Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

I’m super sick right now :(

I haven’t been able to write anything and instead got sucked down the rabbit hole of reading fanfic instead of writing lmao

I’ve got bits and pieces of Act Two written up already but not in a real order so there’s a lot I still need to write up. Send me good vibes so I can write up the next chapter.

Also, this chapter is like twice as long as my usual ones, enjoy :)

Placebo - Surrounded By Spies

I saw you jump from a burning building I saw you jump from a burning building I've seen you move like Elvis set on fire I've seen you move like Elvis set on fire This search for meaning is killing me This search for meaning is killing me This search for meaning is killing me This search for meaning

Ping pong ball at the back of my throat Ping pong ball at the back of my throat And I won't be spoken to like that And I won't be spoken to like that

Suspicious bag on the platform Suspicious bag on the platform Suspicious bag on the platform Suspicious bag on the platform

Ex-drummer's nose stuck in the past Ex-drummer's nose stuck in the past Found dead behind the wheel of a car Found dead behind the wheel of a car

World leader going under the knife World leader going under the knife Stage four Stage two Stage three Stage four Stage two Stage three

We go to Sweden in the back of a cab We go to Sweden in the back of a cab

And every picture house is empty And every picture house is empty

I gave my heart Now I want it back I gave my heart Now I want it back I gave my heart Now I want it back I gave my heart Now I want it back

I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies

Dead fly on the national anthem Dead fly on the national anthem Dead fly on the national anthem Dead fly on the national anthem

I see faces on the bathroom floor I see faces on the bathroom floor I see faces on the bathroom floor Come on over and I'll show you more

Where are you now When I need you the most (Shut up) Where are you now When I need you the most (Shut up) Where are you now When I need you the most (Shut up) Where are you now When I need you the most (Shut up)

I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies I am surrounded by spies

Charlotte sat on the bed quietly as Beth got into her pyjamas, ready for bed. It was much later than she was used to going to bed but after all the drama of the night, the poor girl looked ready to drop. Charlotte wasn't sure how to feel about any of it. The last few hours of her life had been a tempestuous whirlwind and she could barely get her bearings. She felt so much at once, all conflicting feelings that she didn't know how to sort through. 

She was happy he was alive, of course she was. How could she not be? How many times had she cried herself to sleep, asking the universe why he had to leave? Asking if he could just come back? Well, now he had. She got her wish, yet she hadn't expected it to happen, never mind how deeply it wounded her. To know he left all on his own volition was something else. She didn't care what his excuses were of keeping her safe, she didn't think anything he said would be enough to soothe the deep wounds he’d left her at this betrayal. 

She never thought in a million years that her Simon would do this to her. She hadn't meant to explode on him like she had, nor had she meant to confess in hurt and anger that she’d tried to kill herself. She felt shame flush her cheeks at remembering the fact she’d had an audience as she’d said it. Remembered how hurt he’d looked at her admission, even if all she could see of his face were his eyes.

That was all she needed to see to read him. There was something so heartbreaking about seeing him cry like he had, at seeing him hiding his face away behind that mask, yet she hadn't allowed herself to feel sympathy for him. She couldn't, not after what he’d done. 

She’d thought he’d been murdered, right along with everyone else she considered family. In one fell swoop, she’d become so bitterly alone in the world that the only way out she saw fit was to end her own life. She remembered waking up in that hospital bed. She hadn't felt relief that she had survived, didn't see life with a new outlook, all she felt was pain and blind rage at the universe that it wouldn't even let her fucking die in peace. To be with her family. But now looking back, maybe the universe was doing her a favour because Simon wasn't dead, he was here in fucking Hereford at the SAS base they used to live at all along. 

It was confusing to be relieved yet angry at the same time. She didn't know how to process any of it. All she’d wanted was to have Simon back, to have a complete family, for Beth to have her dad. But now she got her wish and she couldn't see a way where her and Simon could pick up where they left off. Not only because he'd created a cavernous space between them with his lie, but because they were different people now. 

Living through the grief that she had, it changed her, much like she could see it changed him. Even though he hadn't been technically dead, she hadn't known that and she’d grieved for him so deeply that she hadn't been able to get out of it in the five years he’d been gone. Her grief knew no bounds. Not for Simon, not for Beth or Tommy, not for Anne, nor for sweet little Joseph. It changed something deep in her DNA that would never go back to how it was. 

The bitterness and jadedness, the anger at the world. She’d spent the first few weeks of knowing she was pregnant hating her own baby simply because it meant she couldn't end her own life and end her own torment. But even when she finally connected with the little baby in her belly, she didn't go back to who she used to be. It gave her a reason to live, sure. It made her dead heart start beating again but it felt like there was only a small chunk of it left. The rest of it was buried along with the Riley family. 

She felt sick then, realising the grave she’d been visiting all this time hadn't been her husband's at all. Who the fuck was buried there then? A new wave of grief washed over her and she closed her eyes to stave off the tears, breathing deeply through her nose. She wasn't the woman Simon knew her to be, not any more. She knew from what Price had said, Simon had been through more than just the loss of his family. He had changed too, she could see that with that mask he wore. She could hardly believe the man was wearing a fucking skeleton mask all the time, not when he used to be so afraid of them. 

Ghost . That’s what Price said he was called now. He didn't go by Simon anymore. For all intents and purposes, Simon was dead. Maybe her grieving hadn't been for nothing after all. But could she love Ghost as she had Simon? Was Simon hiding in there at all? She thought back to the journey over here and the way Price was being cryptic, not telling her much but telling her enough to warn her of what might await her. 

The silence in the car was making Charlotte’s skin crawl but she couldn't find it in herself to open her mouth and break it. Her brain felt like it had been on a merry go round since the moustached man had uttered those treacherous words to her back home and felt like she didn't know which way was up anymore. 

She glanced to her left, seeing Beth clutching her stuffed bunny. She was bobbing her head to the beat of the music, chunky headphones over her ears that were connected to Charlotte’s phone. Beth had always loved music, enjoyed how Charlotte played it around the house. She thought it was best the girl listened to some on the journey, not wanting her to be hyper aware of the tension her mother was holding. It was getting increasingly harder to hide things from her, she was getting far too perceptive for her own good. She didn't need her asking questions about why she wasn't happy her dad was okay. 

When she’d explained to Beth on the way out that her father wasn't in fact an angel in heaven, but very much alive, the girl only had one emotion. Excitement. Of course she couldn't get it, she was far too young, but Charlotte was struggling with a slew of emotions she couldn't quite understand and she was having a hard time putting on a brave face for her daughter. 

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be goin’ through right now. And I know I have no right to ask you anythin’ but… just hear him out, yeah? Whether that's tonight, in a week, a fuckin’ month… Once you’ve got your head on right, just try to listen to him,” John murmured carefully from the driver's seat, the leather steering wheel creaking under his grip. 

Charlotte tensed, glaring out of the window as she crossed her arms over her chest. Part of her wanted to hear Simon out. He was her husband. They hadn't just been lovers, but best friends and that's why she was so confused as to why he’d done this to her. At her silence, John continued.

“He’s a good man, Charlotte. And I know you know that ‘cause you married him,” he sighed, his tone weary.

“It’s been five years, John. I don’t know what kind of man he is now,” she bit out, still staring out of the window as the dark street passed her by. 

“He’s still a good man,” John argued vehemently. “I won’t lie and say he’s the same man you knew all those years ago because he’s changed. Who wouldn't after everythin’ he’s been through? I can’t tell you all of it ‘cause it’s not my story to tell, but… I know you know what happened to the family,” he murmured, glancing at her through the rear view mirror. She licked her lower lip, chest aching at the mere mention of them.

“They were murdered,” she replied tensely. They’d never caught the murderers and that had always been something that stuck with her. John nodded, a frown etched onto his face that she could see when she looked through the mirror at him.

“Like I said, I can't say much, but I will tell you it was connected to a job gone wrong in Mexico. Simon was taken with some of his squad mates, tortured for months on end. And the poor bastard… he somehow survives, somehow gets out, only to come home and find his family fuckin’ massacred,” John’s angry words made Charlotte feel nauseous. 

The idea of Simon going through all that broke her heart. She remembered his smiling face the day he left, the last time she ever saw him. He’d already been through so much in his life and she could only imagine the stuff he went through at the hands of whoever did this to him. 

It still stung though, that he left her so willingly. She was his wife, he should have come to her in his time of need so she could be there for him. They could have grieved together, helped each other through it. But instead, he’d led her to believe he’d been murdered too, led her to believe she was thoroughly on her own.

“He could have come to me,” her voice was a mere whisper in the quiet car and John’s shoulders slumped.

“I know he could have. He fuckin’ should have. I’ll never sit here and try to defend his actions, he was a fuckin’ idiot for doin’ what he did. I tried to tell him after I found out he’d faked his death, told him to reach out to you, but he wouldn't have any of it. He was convinced if he did, you’d wind up dead too,” John explained with a sigh. 

The more rational and logical side of Charlotte’s brain understood the motives. Understood that Simon had been out of his mind with grief after being tortured for months when he'd made the choice to leave her behind like he had. She understood how terrified he must have been when she tried to put herself in his shoes. But what she didn't understand was why he hadn't told her sooner. Why not after a few months or even just one year, he hadn't tried to reach out and explain things to her.

Five years was a long time and the only reason she was finding out now was because his identity had been exposed. If that wouldn't have happened, she had no doubt she’d still be thinking her husband was dead and that hurt her deeply. It hurt that he clearly hadn't even looked her up and checked to see how she was doing or he’d have known about Beth. John had told her as they left the house that he’d called ahead to let him know he had a daughter so he didn't have a heart attack when they got there. Did he care that little about her that it was so easy to let her go? That he’d been able to forget about her like she meant nothing?

She was broken out of her depressing thoughts when Beth moved to take the headphones off, looking from Charlotte to John.

“Are we nearly there yet, Mr John?” she asked excitedly, kicking her legs around as she wriggled in her seat. It was far easier for Beth to roll with the punches after finding out her dad was very much alive. She didn't care about the ‘how’ or the ‘why’, she just cared about finally getting to meet her daddy, her hero. 

“Not too long left now, sweetheart,” John replied with a smile. It hadn't escaped her notice how attached he’d gotten to Beth already. 

“I can’t wait! Mummy, are you excited to see daddy?” she asked with a big smile, her big brown eyes boring into her mother. No, no she really wasn't. It would have been better if this bomb had been dropped on her and then she was left to stew in it for a week so she could digest the news. But instead she was heading right there when her emotions were heightened and she couldn't make sense of any of them.

“Of course I am, sweetie,” she smiled at her. She tried her best to make it as genuine as possible and the girl bought it by the way her own smile widened. 

“Now, before we get there, there’s just a few things I wanna get outta the way,” John spoke up, making fleeting eye contact through the mirror with Charlotte.

“He doesn't really go by Simon much anymore. I’m really the only one who calls him by his name and it doesn't happen a lot, sometimes his best mate Johnny will too, if it's somethin’ serious. On base, you’ll hear him be referred to as Lieutenant or Ghost,” he continued. Lieutenant. He got his promotion then. 

“Ghost? That’s a funny name!” Beth giggled and John let out a chuckle.

“It’s his callsign, kind of like a nickname. Most soldiers have one,” he explained patiently. 

“Do you have one, Mr John?” she asked curiously.

“Not really. People often just call me Cap or by my last name,” he shrugged.

“Why is daddy called Ghost? Does he like spooky things? I like spooky things!” Beth exclaimed, pulling what she deemed to be a ‘spooky’ face in the mirror at John and he smiled to himself. She didn't give him a chance to answer her barrage of questions though as she continued to ramble.

“Halloween is my most favoritest day of the year. And on my birthday, mummy decorates the house like it's halloween!” she grinned, ending her spiel with a ghost noise as she wiggled her fingers dramatically. Despite the situation, Charlotte couldn't help the smile that curled on her lips. No matter what anyone said, her daughter was for sure a character. 

“Well, if you like spooky things, you’ll like your daddy’s mask then. He has a skeleton mask that he wears all the time,” John spoke up. His voice was light as he addressed his words to the young girl who started clapping excitedly, but his eyes caught Charlotte's with a meaningful look. It shocked her, knowing his fear since a child, knowing how Tommy used to wear a skeleton mask to scare him.

“All the time?” she asked, getting a nod in return. 

“Was only recently the rest of the 141 got to see his face. Part of it's due to some scarrin’ he’s got after… after Mexico. But mostly I think it's to conceal his identity,” he explained and she held in her scoff. Didn't do a fucking good job since someone found out anyway and now her and Beth were being driven to an SAS base for god knows how long. 

She tried to will herself to be in a better mood, to summon some semblance of excitement to see her husband, mostly for her daughter's sake. Little Beth couldn't sit still in her seat as she went on and on about how excited she was to see him. She couldn't find any excitement inside herself though. 

The sting of his betrayal stung deep and she had no idea how long it would take for it to subside. Would it ever? She never thought in her wildest dreams that she’d ever get to see him again and never did she ever think she’d be feeling this way if she did. Yet here she was, on her way to see the husband she thought was dead for the past five years and all she felt was hurt. 

Charlotte looked over once Beth was fully ready for bed, watching as she rummaged around in the duffel bag near the bed. The room was a decent size with a bathroom attached. It had a double bed for Charlotte and a smaller single bed for Beth. John had explained to her once she’d come inside about how the base worked, despite the fact she lived here once. Apparently things had changed a little especially since they were in a special task force. 

It was an SAS base but they weren't the only ones here. The Task Force had their own building which housed their barracks and a rec room/small kitchen. They shared the training area, armoury and mess hall with the rest of the soldiers here. 

Beth pulled a worn leather bound book from the bag and Charlotte smiled softly. It always looked comically large in her small hands. It was the same copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales that Simon got her all the way back in 2006. She hadn't been able to look at it for two years after he ‘died’, but eventually she found comfort in reading it. Beth loved it too now. The stories weren't traditionally for children but Beth didn't care. She loved these ones and not the Disney versions that were in her words, ‘icky’. She toddled over, book in hand and her comfy bunny pyjamas back on.

“Mummy…?” she asked softly, dark eyes glancing over at her with a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“What is it, sweetie?” Charlotte answered.

“Could daddy read me my bedtime story?” she asked hopefully. The idea of seeing Simon so soon after the confrontation outside made her blood turn to ice in her veins, but she concealed it with a fake smile for her daughter. 

“You’d have to ask him, his room is next door. He might not be there though,” she said softly. She hoped he wouldn't be there. It was bad enough knowing his room was so close to theirs and she knew Simon was probably to blame for that. 

“Can I go and knock?” she asked with a grin and Charlotte nodded as she stood up. She wouldn't go to his door but she’d wait at her own so she could keep an eye on her. She was only four after all. Beth put the book on her bed and Charlotte opened the bedroom door, leaning on the doorframe as she watched Beth go to the door next to theirs. 

She knocked softly, fidgeting where she stood and Charlotte felt conflicted. The selfish part of her hoped he wouldn't be there so she wouldn't have to see him, but seeing how excited and anxious Beth was, she couldn't help but hope he was there. The door opened and Charlotte couldn't see him as he stood in his doorway. Beth grinned up at him, a brilliant smile that she’d perfected over the years. The one that got her anything she wanted. 

“Daddy! Can you read me a bedtime story, please?” she asked, clutching her hands together like she was begging him. He was silent for a moment and Charlotte wondered what look he had on his face. Despite everything, it had touched her seeing how emotional he got when he saw Beth. It touched her how he instantly fell in love with her. 

“Where's your mummy, sweetheart?” he asked carefully and Beth pointed over at her. 

He stepped out of the door then, now dressed in black sweats and a tight fitting t-shirt. He’d always been big but he seemed even bigger now. He didn't have on the hard skull mask from earlier, and instead he had a black gaiter with half a skull painted on it covering his lower face. She could just make out a scar coming out from it and curling around his temple. 

His blonde hair had grown in his time away. It was longer at the top and messily pushed back, shorter on the sides. He also had a half sleeve and a part of her brain, the old Charlotte, itched to see what the ink was, what story it told. He stared at her for a long moment and Charlotte couldn't meet his eyes as they burned into her. He finally dragged his gaze away from her and back to the little girl in front of him.

“If it’s alright with your mum, then I’ll read to you, lovie,” he murmured, making Beth turn her pleading eyes on her. Charlotte couldn't find her voice and just nodded, making her way back to the bedroom as Beth and Simon followed. She sat on the bed, watching as Beth rushed in, grabbing the book. Simon shut the door behind him, looking severely out of place in the room.

“Come on, daddy!” Beth giggled as she climbed in bed, pulling her quilt over her and patting the spot next to her. Simon walked over, perching on the side of the bed. When Beth shoved the book in his hands, his whole body seemed to still. Charlotte couldn't help but watch his reaction, seeing how his hand rubbed over the beaten leather cover as he swallowed thickly. He took a shaky breath, cracking open the front cover to reveal the message inside. 

‘Grimm stories for my Grim girl. 

All my love,

Simon’

She watched as his hands shook, watched how he blinked rapidly before looking at her. She felt a deep ache in her chest and she bit down on her lower lip, tearing her gaze away from his. She knew it meant something to him, that she’d kept the book. 

“Which story, lovie?” he asked Beth after clearing his throat. 

“Any, you can pick!” she smiled, moving to lay down, wriggling around to get comfy inside the covers. He nodded, flicking through the pages before he found the one he’d been looking for.

“Once upon a time there was a sweet little girl. Everyone who saw her liked her, but most of all her grandmother, who did not know what to give the child next. Once she gave her a little cap made of red velvet. Because it suited her so well, and she wanted to wear it all the time, she came to be known as Little Red Ridin’ Hood, ” he started, his voice low and soothing. Charlotte settled to sit back, leaning on the headboard as she listened on.

“One day her mother said to her: ‘Come Little Red Ridin; Hood. Here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother. She is sick and weak, and they will do her well. Mind your manners and give her my greetin’s. Behave yourself on the way, and do not leave the path, or you might fall down and break the glass, and then there will be nothin’ for your sick grandmother.’ " listening to him read like this took her back and she tried to ignore the tumultuous tide of emotions within her. A large part of her wanted to go over to him, curl around him and not let him go. She didn't think she'd ever get to hear his voice again and now he was reading to their daughter. Despite the deep yearning she felt, she didn't move. She couldn't . 

A nasty voice in the back of her head wondered if he was happier away from her. Wondering if maybe he hadn't looked her up because he realised he was better off without her. She knew it was stupid, knew it was a very self centred way of thinking, yet she couldn't help it. She never thought she and Simon had a perfect relationship by any means, she didn't think perfect existed. She did think they came pretty fucking close though so learning that he just fucked off and left when they both needed each other still didn’t make sense in her brain.

She stayed there listening to him read until Beth fell fast asleep, her soft snores filling the air as he stopped reading. The quiet left the roaring in her ears far too loud. Glancing over at him, she saw how he watched Beth, eyes flitting over her face as if he was trying to ingrain every small feature of her face into his brain. It made her chest feel hot and tight as he gently raised his hand up to her head, hesitating for a mere second before he stroked her head with his large hand. 

She wondered what he would have been like with her as a baby. It had devastated her after having to go through labour alone, to know Beth's daddy wouldn't ever get to hold her. He'd missed out on so much of her life, so many important firsts she'd been through. There wasn't anything he could do or say to change that. 

His hand moved back to the book then as he closed it quietly, his hand once more smoothing over the beaten leather cover. The silence that permeated the room was anything but comfortable and Charlotte wasn't brave enough to break it herself. He dragged his eyes to her and she tried to quell her rapidly beating heart. She needed time alone, needed her brain to digest the ridiculous amount of bullshit that it had forced on it within hours. 

“I'll uh… I'll let you rest then,” he murmured, his tone unsure and awkward as his eyes never left her. He'd always had a way of seeing right through her but now she hated it. She nodded, nibbling her lower lip as she stood. She didn't know what to say so she settled on not saying anything at all as she walked to the door. She opened it, unable to meet his gaze that was burning into her as he placed the book on the nightstand and moved over to the door. 

He hovered in the doorway before just stepping right out, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief. Part of her had been worried he'd corner her into talking about everything and it was far too soon. But as she watched him walk down the hall a few steps away to his own door, a thought hit her like a tonne of bricks again and she couldn't stop her mouth from opening. To ask the question burning on the tip of her tongue, even if she was scared to know the answer.

“Simon…” she called out after him, her voice trailing off as she stepped out into the hallway. He stopped and turned to face her at an alarmingly fast rate. She almost felt bad at his hopeful eyes that burned into her.

“What is it, love?” he asked, his voice soft, as he gazed at her. 

She’d wondered if Simon was in there at all or if Ghost was all that was left, but the reverence in his dark eyes let her know that Simon was indeed still there, even if he was buried. Her mouth floundered for a moment, scared to even ask him but she knew she’d lose sleep if she didn't. Hell, she knew she'd be losing sleep regardless, but she wanted to know.

“Who… Who’s buried… where you should be?” she asked carefully, tripping over the wording. Shock coloured his face for a brief moment before his eyes darted away at lightning speed, now unable to look at her. It only made the pit in her stomach grow.

“Some things are best just left well alone, sweetheart,” he frowned, still not looking at her. It only served to make annoyance swell up inside of her.

“Really? After everything you’ve fucking done, now you won’t even answer my questions?” she asked, sounding more hurt than angry which only annoyed her further. His eyes finally met hers, brows furrowed deeply but he still didn't say anything.

“How am I ever gonna be able to understand all of this bullshit if you won't even answer me?” she asked incredulously as she took an angry step towards him.

“Ask me somethin’ else, anythin’ else and I’ll answer, please ,” he whispered and she could hear how strained his voice was. She knew then, he didn't want to answer her because he knew she wouldn't like the answer. Her eyes narrowed, hands shaking at her sides as she glared at him.

“It was one of them, wasn't it? One of the murderers?” she asked, dread coating her tongue. It got worse when he squeezed his eyes shut, lowering his head as he inhaled deeply through his nose. She started to think he wouldn't answer her again but then his shoulders slumped as he nodded.

“Yeah… it is,” he admitted and the shame in his voice was clear as day. She stumbled back a step, covering a hand over her mouth as if it would help stop the feelings of bile climbing up her throat.

“Lottie…” he pleaded, reaching his hand out as if to steady her but she moved right away from him, bitter tears stinging her eyes.

“You… I can’t-” she shook her head, wiping at her eyes furiously as the ringing in her ears got louder. His own tearful face watched her, half covered as his tears disappeared under his gaiter.

“I visited that grave every single fucking day! I stood there and poured my heart out to the bastard that took our family away! He's buried next to them!” she seethed, trying to keep her voice down but she felt so much disgust that she worried she might vomit her heart right up. His face fell, a look in his eyes that told her this was something that bothered him deeply, yet he’d done it anyway. 

“I’m sorry, love, I am, but I did what I need-” he started but she didn't want to hear it.

“Don't you dare! You didn’t need to fake your fucking death! You didn't need to have me visiting a murderer's grave for five years!” she hissed, feeling lightheaded. She couldn't even look at him, it made her feel sick. 

She turned on her heel, moving back to her door and pushing it open, but just as it opened a crack, his large hand covered hers on the handle as he yanked it back shut. His hand stayed on hers, his left hand on the doorframe by her head, caging her in as she faced the door. 

His chest wasn't touching her back but was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Part of her wanted to cave, wanted to turn in his arms, sob into his chest and beg him to never leave her again. She couldn't though, not after this. It dawned on her that this was why he was scared to answer the question. That maybe this was a push too far. 

She stood stock still, tearful eyes blinking at the wooden door in front of her. His head was hovering over her right shoulder and she could hear his stuttering breaths, knew he was trying to calm himself despite his tears. She waited for him to speak, to argue his point some more. She didn't have it in her anymore, she just needed to get away from him. 

He stayed there for a moment, so close yet so out of reach it burned her chest, and then he backed away from her. Her hand felt ice cold once he’d let her go, the only proof he was in fact alive and she hadn't made all of this nonsense up in her head. 

“I know it probably doesn't feel like it, Lottie… but I love you,” he murmured with a rough voice. She didn't turn to look at him as her silent tears fell harder, didn't dare open her mouth because she wasn't sure just what might come out. She stayed as still as a statue at her door until she heard him walk away and go back into his room, and only then did her tense muscles relax. 

The tears wouldn't stop though and the burning in her chest was getting worse. She knew she couldn't go into the bedroom like this. The last thing she wanted was to wake up Beth in this state and only cause her confusion. Not really knowing what else to do, she took off down the hallway, leaving through the double door that separated the bedrooms from the rest of the building. She hurried into the kitchen area, chest heaving with ugly sobs that she couldn't hide any more. She was just glad Simon wasn't around to witness her like this. She clutched the kitchen counter in a death grip, trying to will her breathing to slow so she could get a hold of herself. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

The voice made her whip around, coming face to face with a man with a mohawk. She’d seen how close he was to Simon when they were all outside and she was sure this was the best friend John had told her about. She wiped her eyes as her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, but she still couldn't calm down. He looked so sad when he looked at her, like he knew her, like they were friends, and this whole thing made him sad. It was pretty jarring given he was a stranger. 

“Alright, come on,” he sighed with a frown, shaking his head as he held his arms out to her. She blinked her watery eyes at him dumbly.

“What?” she squeaked out through her tears. He didn't answer her with words and instead just took a few long strides to her before wrapping her in his arms.

It caught her off guard but there was something comforting about him and she couldn't help but melt into him, allowing herself to seek comfort. The only person that had hugged her for years had been Beth and despite how she was avoiding Simon’s touch like the plague, she needed comforting now more than ever. 

She sobbed into his chest, hands balled into his t-shirt at his back as he held her close. One of his hands stroked her hair as he murmured something to her. She couldn't really understand him with his accent, she wasn't even sure if he was speaking English at this point. It still soothed her though and after far too long for her liking, her tears finally dulled to sad sniffles. His shirt was soaked with her tears and she felt her face flush once more as she reluctantly pulled away from him. He gave her a sad smile, squeezing her shoulders before he took a step back, allowing her space once more.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, shame still nipping at her.

“Don't need t’ thank me, lass. Yer family,” he replied easily, a warm smile on his face. Family . That word felt so strange to her now. She’d been so used to it just being her and Beth and now she had a family again. She tried to give him a smile back, feeling more than overwhelmed and unsure of herself.

“You want me to make ye a brew?” he asked kindly but she shook her head, swallowing thickly as she wiped at her damp cheeks.

“No… No thanks, I should get back in case Beth wakes up,” she declined politely and he nodded with another warm smile.

“Alright then. Sleep well,” he shot her another smile and she headed to the door, arms wrapped around herself as if to self soothe.

“Charlotte,” he called out before she walked through the doorway. She turned back to look at him, finding him looking at her already. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing.

“If ye need anythin’, and I mean anythin’ , ye can come to me. I know you don’t know me very well, not yet at least, but ye don’t have to be alone here. I want ye to know that. You got someone fightin’ in yer corner for ye. That big fuckin’ idiot might be my best friend but… you didn’t deserve all this shit. So if ye need someone rootin’ for ye, I’m right here,” he implored, bright blue eyes burning fiercely. 

Her throat clogged up, eyes stinging with unshed tears again at his words. He didn't know her at all yet she could tell he meant his words. It touched her and sent a wave of relief through her. Simon was the only one she knew here and she couldn't go to him after everything. She couldn't trust him any more, so knowing she had someone she could go to if she needed anything was a huge relief for her. 

“Thanks…” she trailed off, realising she didn't know his name. Her head was so muddled, she couldn’t remember if John had told her back on her journey here or not.

“Johnny or Soap. Take yer pick. Fuck, ye can call me the Scottish Bastard if ye want, I won’t mind,” he shot her a lopsided grin that made her smile genuinely for the first time in hours. 

“Thanks, Johnny. It means a lot,” she murmured. He beamed at her, seemingly happy with her response and she gave him a little nod before exiting the room.

Johnny watched her go, trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest at the mess his best friend had caused. He turned to flick the kettle on, needing some shite like a chamomile tea to help him unwind before bed. He felt far too wired right now. He felt the presence before he heard it and he heaved a sigh.

“Ye want somethin’, LT?” he asked tiredly, glancing over his shoulder. Ghost stood there, gaiter on and all imposing like he usually was but Johnny spotted his tense posture right away. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think his LT was about to fucking murder him.

“What’s your fuckin’ game, Johnny?” Ghost growled. His tone was harsh, harsher than Soap had ever received from him even when he was purposely trying to push his buttons. It made annoyance swell up inside the Scot as he turned to fully face the spectre haunting the kitchen.

“Excuse me?” he asked, making sure to sound as unimpressed as possible. Ghost took a step towards him and Johnny wouldn't be a liar and say it didn’t strike a little fear through him. Mostly because he could see those dark eyes peering over the mask at him and they looked absolutely fucking feral.

“That’s my fuckin’ wife you had your hands all over!” he hissed, sounding half fucking gone as he jabbed a finger in Soaps’ direction. It wasn't just jealousy he could detect in the man's tone, no, it was pure hurt.

“Is that a fuckin’ joke?! Ye think I’m makin’ moves on yer wife?!” Johnny spat, feeling like he might as well have been smacked in the face. 

Ghost’s breathing was ragged and Johnny didn't miss the glistening of his eyes. He felt almost positive his big bad LT was on the verge of breaking down and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to will himself some fucking patience to deal with the man.

“I was comfortin’ her, ye wee bawbag! Didn’t ye see her? She was a mess, a mess you caused! And I get it must be hard all this but it's hard on her too and I want her to know she’s got people that care. I want this to fuckin’ work for the both of ye, yer my best friend for Christ’s sake! I’m tryin’ to be the bridge here, the one to help guide you back together!” Johnny frowned. 

If he was honest, he felt hurt at Ghost’s implications but he also knew the normally emotionally constipated man was going through a lot right now. The beast of a man's shoulders sagged and Soap saw the switch from Ghost to Simon as he looked down, shaking his head as his fists clenched and unclenched.

“I didn't mean… I know you wouldn't, I just…” Simon couldn't seem to find his words, his voice cracking as he sucked in a painful sounding breath. 

“She won’t let me touch her. All I wanna do is hold her and I can't. And then I see you huggin’ her and I…” he trailed off with a shaky voice, nothing but pain in his words and it punched Soap in the gut. He felt for the man, he really did. Five years away from his wife and he wasn't allowed the reunion he so desperately craved. He can only imagine it would drive a man mad. 

“Well… if ye hug me then it’ll be like a second hand hug off Charlotte,” he murmured wryly, opening his arms out to him. Simon squinted at him, tilting his head as he looked at him like he’d grown another head.

“Are you fuckin’ daft?” he asked incredulously and Soap laughed lightly.

“Aye, pretty much. Now come here, ye fuckin’ shit stain,” Soap huffed, moving over to hug the man. 

Simon’s hands hung limply by his sides for what felt like a whole minute but Soap didn't relent. Finally, he heaved a long suffering sigh before wrapping his arms around Johnny and the Scot knew he needed this hug as much as Charlotte had with how tightly he was gripping him.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” Simon muttered in contempt and Soap smiled to himself.

“Nah, ye love me,” he retorted, not missing a beat. He let go after a few moments not wanting a punch to the dick for taking too long. He’d already pushed it as it was.

“It’ll all work out in the end. Just gotta be patient,” Johnny said carefully, a soft look on his face as he watched his Lieutenant roll his shoulders as if to shake the tension out of them. 

“How can you be so sure?” he asked miserably and at that moment, Soap wasn't sure if he was speaking to Ghost or Simon or maybe an odd mix of both.

“I can feel it. Ye both still love each other and I think after some time, you’ll be able to work through it all. Love like this… nothin’ can stop it,” he shrugged honestly and Simon swallowed thickly, the movement making his gaiter bob a little. 

“I hope you're right, Johnny,” he admitted quietly, a mere whisper in the kitchen as if he was scared to say it out loud. 

Johnny hoped he was right too, he hoped to all the gods to ever exist that Simon could win his wife back. If anyone deserved happiness in this world it was his LT and Johnny wanted him to get that happy ending he’d always tried to deny. The one he’d tried to run from. Like he said, nothing can stop a love like this and it had all come catching up to him now. You can't outrun fate.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #ghost x reader

[the-cult-of-riley]

Hey, I don't often comment on fics but I just wanted to tell you that your "sleeping with ghosts" fic is AMAZING. I started it yesterday and just finished reading chapter 27 and I CANNOT wait for act two cause it's just amazing !!!!

Thank you so much 😭 It doesn't get as much traction here as it does on AO3 I think because it's an OC and not a reader insert. I get worried no one likes it lmao

I'm so happy you like it. I just posted the first chap of Act Two, I hope you enjoy the pain 😈🔪😂🫣

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #thalia answers

[the-cult-of-riley]

[[Simon 'Ghost' Riley RP]]

At the risk of taking on too many things at once (my hypermania is in full force lmaoooo) I've decided to RP Ghost casually via dms.

I love rping the characters I write for, I love getting in their heads and messing around. It's been a hot minute since I've had the chance to rp so I'm eager to dive into it again.

I can't promise I'll get to messages quickly, hence the casual part. I still have requests to write up, many multi chap fics and my health is going down the shitter. But, I find it always helps to get the creative juices flowing.

I don't mind rping with people who haven't done it before and I'm fine with smut. Send a dm if you're interested and don't be shy.

Minors DNI obviously lololol

Bonus, I'm actually from Manchester so you get the real Mancunian experience lmaoooo

Thalia x

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley rp

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act Two: Chapter One)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

Double update again!

It has begun >:)

Placebo - This Is What You Wanted

Hey, hey, hey There's no need to panic This is just how it is Your pulse is fast and frantic And it feels like you'll explode

This is what you wanted This is here and now This is what you came for But you leave disappointed Cracked skin and furrowed brow

Hey, hey, hey This is what you wanted This is why you came This is what you asked for Yes, I heard you beg

And you came And you broke it, threw it Out of the room Flushed it, down the toilet Even though it was your precious, the last thing to call your own

Hey, hey, hey This is what you wanted And you got it Now you hate it 'Cause it's a disappointment

Your expectations were way too fucking high Now you're angry Frustrated You've created your own special hell

Where it's arctic And it's barren And it's silent And it's white Your own prison cell

Hey, hey, hey There's no need to panic

It was dark outside, the air starting to get a little cold as he stood outside the barracks and the moon hung heavy in the sky, casting the car park in an eerie glow. Anxiety ran rampant inside of him as he stood there as if he was waiting for his execution. He'd spent the time beating the shit out of Soap, admittedly going a little harder on him than he should. The Scot took it like a champ, no doubt telling himself some bullshit about ‘that's what best mates are for’. Either way, Ghost appreciated the distraction, but now it was time. Price had texted to let them know he was a few minutes away. Texted Johnny , not him. Maybe he thought Ghost would bolt if he got the text, part of him was fighting the fucking urge. 

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he shifted where he stood, crossing his broad arms over his chest as if to protect himself for what was coming. The feelings only got worse when he saw Price’s car pull in. He didn't really want an audience for this but had Johnny on his left side. Ale, Rudy and Gaz were also there, albeit loitering a little further away, closer to the door to the barracks. They'd all been excited to meet the ever elusive Mrs Riley they only just found out existed. Only made worse when Johnny told them a Mini Riley would be in tow too. 

Price was the first to get out of the car and nausea swept through Ghost’s entire being, heat prickling at him uncomfortably. 

“Should you not take off the mask, hermano? You might scare the little one,” Ale asked warily from his spot near the door and Ghost’s head whipped over to him, eyes slightly wide through the mask. Of course it would scare her, he looked like a fucking menace. Why didn't he think of that? He was already failing at being a good father. 

But then images of his scarred face flashed through his head and the idea of scaring her with his actual face and not his mask cut through him like a hot knife through butter. 

“Mask stays on,” he bit out, and he could feel Johnny’s eyes burning holes into him.

“LT…” he started and he knew the Sergeant knew why he wanted to keep the mask on and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t ,” he warned dangerously, dark eyes boring into the man next to him who wore a frown. Before Soap could argue more, the sound of a car door made Ghost look back over to the car. 

Charlotte climbed out and suddenly he couldn't breathe anymore. An ache started deep in his chest and climbed into every crevice of his body. Fuckin’ hell, he'd missed her. Missed her so much he could feel it all the way down to his fucking bones. He could hear blood rushing in his ears as he watched her carefully, emotion clogging his throat with a lump he couldn't get rid of. He tried to clear it but the noise sounded more like a pitiful whimper as he fought the urge to break down in front of everyone. 

The noise didn't escape the man who was still glued to his side though and he felt Johnny's hand on his back. He bit back the snarky comment that wanted to leave his lips because he was sure it was Johnny's hand that was keeping him from collapsing in a heap on the floor. His arms fell to his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as he resisted the urge to run over there and touch her. To grab her face and kiss her senseless. To hold her close and never let her go again. 

‘She’s pretty upset, I don’t know what the fuck you were expectin’. She’s taken it pretty badly that you left her willingly.’

No, she wouldn't appreciate that, not without him trying to explain and smoothing things over. Not only had he chosen to leave her, but he did so knowing she would be completely on her own, that it hadn't just been him she'd lost that day. 

He’d broken the vow he’d made to himself and to her, that she would never have to feel alone again. It was so fucking selfish of him, even if at the time he told himself it was to protect her. And it was. After what happened to his family, he couldn't risk that happening to her too. But he knew deep down he'd ran off out of fear, out of selfishness, and now he was about to face his reckoning. 

His dark eyes stayed glued to his wife as she leaned into the car before helping a small child out. He blinked dumbly as he watched on. She was fucking tiny, her blonde curls a little unruly like she'd slept in the car. She was wearing leggings, boots and a fur coat that just swamped her tiny frame. She clung to a stuffed bunny in her hands as she glanced up at his Captain and said something with a smile on her face. Fuckin’ hell.  

He could see himself in her and he wasn't sure what to think about it, but then her dark eyes turned to him and they widened like saucers as she stared at him. He remembered Alejandro's words about the mask and his breathing hitched. The idea of scaring his own child cut something deep inside of him, but then the tiny mirror of himself dropped her stuffed bunny and started running at him, not away.

“Daddy!” She yelled excitedly, with so much reverence he knew he didn't fucking deserve after what he'd done. 

She was like a tiny whirlwind as she barrelled at him and another pitiful noise escaped him as he fell to his knees with a heavy thud, just in time for her to fling herself at him, trying to wrap her small arms around his neck. Instinct took over as his broad arms encircled her, a sob stuck in his throat as he lifted her into his arms, holding her as close as possible. She smelt like chocolate and strawberries and something broke deep within him. 

She squeezed him impossibly tight for as small as she was, repeating the word ‘daddy’ over and over. But her excitement gave way to a more watery tone then that would have hurt less if she'd shivved him. She moved her head away to look at him and the tears trailing down her cheeks made him feel sick. What had he done?

“Daddy… I-I missed you,” she cried softly, the innocence of her statement ricocheting like a bullet. How could she miss something that she never even had? But she had missed him. The absence of him, the absence of a father, it had left a gaping hole in her fucking life. 

He kept hold of her as he fought the urge to rip his fucking mask off. He couldn't breathe and the girl deserved to see him and not Ghost yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it, couldn't bring himself to reveal his awful face to her and scare her away. He was a coward. He barely registered as his tears fell under his mask, tumbling down his face as he struggled to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a kiss to her forehead through the mask as his whole body trembled with her in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” he lamented brokenly, moving to cradle her head with his large hand. She moved closer then, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he held her impossibly close.

“I’m here, love. I’m not goin’ anywhere, alright?” he murmured to her, his hand stroking silky soft curls. She nodded into his neck, sniffling as her tears started to ease off but the pain in his chest didn't lessen. He suddenly became painfully aware of where he was and that he was being watched. 

He moved to stand and Beth clung to him so tight, he might have thought she wanted to strangle him. It pained him that she was acting like he might float away and vanish again if she let him go. He held her tight as he got to his feet, nuzzling her hair as he continued to stroke it, wanting to ease her worries. 

He heard a sniffle from beside him and glanced over, seeing Johnny wiping his eyes quickly as he looked away. He might have had a few choice words for the man if he wasn't crying like a mard arse too. 

He noticed Price then, closer than he remembered as he walked over with a sympathetic look on his face and Ghost’s eyes darted to Charlotte. She’d stopped a few feet away, her face stained with tears and her eyes red rimmed, but what hurt the most was the fact she was point blank refusing to look at him. 

Shame and guilt burrowed their way inside of him so deeply, he wasn't sure he’d ever be able to get rid of it. His eyes caught her rings still on her finger as she wiped at her face and he felt winded that she still wore them, even after all this time. He still had his own wedding band, dangling off the chain with his new dog tags as Ghost. 

“Lottie…” he choked out, the lump in his throat expanding with each passing second as he took a step towards her.

“Don’t!” she hissed out, her eyes finally snapping to him and making him stay stock still. Part of him wished she was still avoiding looking at him because the pure loathing and betrayal in her eyes hurt far worse than her ignorance. A fractured sob bubbled from his lips that he couldn't contain and he felt his little girl raise her head from where she’d been hiding in his neck, looking at him warily and then at her upset mum. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Why don't I show you and Mr Snuffles to your room, eh? Bet he’s tired after that trip,” Price smiled up at her, wanting to get her out of the tense situation so the adults could talk. He had the well worn bunny in his hand that he'd picked up from the floor where she’d dropped it. Beth blinked at him for a long moment before nodding with a tentative smile.

“Okay,” she murmured and Ghost crouched to set her on her feet. A part of him didn't want to let her go at all but she didn't need to witness all this. Didn't need to see how he’d hurt her mummy so much. 

As her feet touched the floor, he was stopped from standing upright as her tiny hands grabbed either side of his face. He was helpless, the only thing he was able to do was look at her. His dark eyes flit over her face, memorising every little detail on her pretty little face. Despite her earlier tears, she gave him a smile that cracked his ribs right open and let his insides spill over. 

She leaned in, giving him a little kiss on the cheek of his mask before moving over to Price and taking his outstretched hand. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment, his cheek burning where she’d placed a kiss he didn't deserve. His head was a mess, a muddle of thoughts and feelings he couldn't quite grasp. 

He’d hoped the others would have taken the hint and fucked off to give him some privacy but they hadn’t, although Johnny had the decency to move over to the others nearer the door. He wondered if they couldn’t help watching this unfold like a fucking train wreck. 

He stood slowly, eyes glued onto Charlotte as she stood there once again not looking at him.

“Charlotte… I’m so sorry-” he started, voice as raw as his insides felt, but he was quickly interrupted.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” she seethed. 

He’d never seen her so upset before and that was saying something because he knew he could be a right bastard at times, he was a Riley after all. But this was different. It wasn't just anger, it was pure unfiltered pain. Such deep betrayal that he felt it himself. She wasn't just mad at him, she was hurt and that broke his dead black heart into pieces. He’d done that. 

“Five years… It’s been five fucking years and you’ve got the cheek to say you’re sorry?!” she asked viciously. Her pretty blue eyes were wide, incredulous at his audacity as he just stood there and listened. He’d take every verbal lashing she’d give him and gladly wear the scars from them. He deserved worse. 

Despite him wanting to give her silence to let her get it all off her chest, his silence seemed to enrage her more as she took a step towards him with such fire in her eyes, he was sure she was about to hit him.

“I grieved for you! For five years I carried around the grief of losing you like a lead fucking weight around my heart! And you've been here ?! You’ve been fine this whole time and you never once thought you should let your fucking wife know you’re alive?!” she bellowed, her voice cracking at the end as it wavered. 

The tears fell in rivulets down her face and Ghost’s hands itched at his sides to wipe them away. He never wanted to see tears on her face, ever. His own tears were still coming hot and fast down his face, not that you could see them, but he had no shame anymore, how could he? He didn't care about the audience he had, nothing mattered but her. 

“Love-” he started brokenly but he got cut off again. 

“How could you do that to me?! How could you allow someone to come to our home and tell me you were dead?! Do you know how broken I was when they handed me your fucking tags and told me you were dead?! That you were all dead?!” she asked, her voice bordering on hysterical with her rage and pain. He scrunched his face up, his brain supplying made-up images as he imagined just how devastated she was. He knew if the roles had been reversed it would have killed him. He knew nothing he said would be enough to soothe the pain he’d caused her.

“I did it to protect you, love,” he whispered, voice low and pained as he blinked through his tears at her. 

“Really?! Go fuck yourself!” she scoffed incredulously and he frowned as he shook his head. She wouldn't allow him to explain further though.

“I know you were going through a lot, I do, but to make me think you were dead ? I get wanting the enemy to think you were dead, but me? Your own fucking wife? You couldn't have just told me you needed to go underground for a bit? Or even at least tell me you were fucking off and wouldn’t see me again but you were fine?!” she asked, the anger leaving her voice as it wobbled and her tears fell harder. He stepped towards her again on instinct and she took a step back, taking pieces of his heart with her.

“I’m sorry,” he lamented quietly. 

What else could he say? He could tell she wasn't ready yet to hear him out, not that he had a good enough excuse as to why he hurt her this way other than the fact he was a selfish bastard and terrified. Grieving and scared. But it was too soon. She’d not long found out about his lie and she needed to process it. She needed to let her pain and anger out. 

“Do you know how I found out I was pregnant?” she asked. The dead and apathetic tone that took over her voice was eerie, as if all emotion had suddenly left her and it made Ghost seize up. It felt like ice creeping down his spine and wrapping around his limbs like vines. Something in her tone told him that no, he didn't want to know how she found out. Something in that cold tone told him she hadn't found out by simply popping to the corner shop for a test after a missed period and pissing on a stick. She didn't care for his response though as she continued. 

“I lost everything . I lost Beth, Tommy, Joseph, Anne… you . I lost everyone I ever had, my family. I had no one left, I had nothing left to live for,” her cold tone made way to a sadness that sent a fierce ache into his chest and he didn't like where this was going.

“I tried to kill myself,” she said it so simply, blinking with an unseeing gaze upon him and he stumbled back like he’d been shot with a fucking shotgun right in his chest. It fucking felt like he had. He was suddenly transported back to 2006.

“You ever wonder what the point is?” she asked after a long moment. He was taking his sweet time tying the bandana off, wanting to prolong the contact he had with her. 

“The point of what?” he asked curiously, eyes flitting to her morose face.

“Living. What's the point in everything, why are we here? What's the point ?” she asked with a frown and he felt something tugging deep in his chest.

“Should I be worried you're gonna fling yourself off a roof, love?” he asked warily, finishing tying the knot in the bandana. His hands left her skin then but he stayed facing her. She heaved a sigh that even he could feel the heaviness to as he watched her carefully.

“I’m not gonna kill myself. I just… everything's miserable, you know? I came out of the womb with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. Almost died. Mum always told me it would have been better if I would have. Maybe that was a sign,” she muttered and the words made a deep ache pinch inside of him. She said it so matter of factly and a frown etched onto his face. 

“That's pretty grim,” he remarked, unsure of what to say. He wanted to comfort her but he had a feeling she didn't want comforting. She laughed then and it startled him. A genuine laugh that felt like bells chiming all around him and making his inside feel like they were about to turn into outsides. She smiled up at him and he suddenly felt unable to breathe. Fuckin’ hell. 

He was brought out of his memories by her voice once more.

“Sat in the bath and slit my wrists, ‘cause what was the point in going on? I didn't even have anyone to write a suicide note to, how sad is that?” she asked, a heartbroken look spreading on her features that had no right in being there. He felt sick, felt his breakfast climbing its way back up his throat, wanting to spill out of his mouth. She’d tried to fucking off herself because of him. She could have been dead all ‘cause he lied like they were in some kind of twisted Romeo and fucking Juliet. 

What’s the point? What's the point? What’s the point? He’d known since the day he’d met her that there was a troubled darkness that lay inside of her due to her past, often wondered if that was why he was drawn to her, because his own could sense it. But the idea of her trying to take her own life, over him of all things, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

“I was done and all I wanted was to be with you. So I slit my wrists and started to bleed out in the bath,” she explained, lifting the sleeves of her chunky black cardigan to reveal identical scars from her wrist to the crease of her elbow. The sight of them burned him up from the inside out and he felt like he couldn't breathe. The tattoos on her right forearm were sliced crudely in half by the marred flesh, not quite matching up perfectly.

“I hadn’t been to work in almost two weeks. Didn't call in, could barely get out of bed with how grief stricken I was. My boss decided to send the police around for a welfare check. Doctors in the hospital told me they found me in the nick of time, told me I was lucky . And… and all I could think was that they needed to hurry up and discharge me so I could try again!” her voice turned shrill at the end, a note of hysteria in it with wide eyes as if she was laid up in a hospital bed once more, going through it all over again.

He knew she’d be hurt when he ‘died’, he wasn't stupid enough to think she wouldn't be. But he’d honestly hoped she’d make her peace with it and move on. As much as jealousy and bitterness permeated his entire being at the thought, he’d hoped she’d find a nice man and settle down with him, someone who could give her all the things he’d never been able to. But here she was, still grieving the ‘loss’ of him, still wearing the fucking rings he got her, still wounded over a lie he told. He’d never hated himself more.

“When they told me I was pregnant, I fucking…” she trailed off, so many emotions running across her face that he could barely keep up with them, but then it settled onto pure anguish and he stepped towards her. She didn't move away this time but a raw sob ripped from her throat that made him still entirely.

“I hated her! I fucking hated her! My own child! Because I knew I couldn’t kill myself then, because it wouldn’t just be me! I loathed the baby inside of me and it was all your fault!” she screamed and he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to try and quell the onslaught of tears. 

He deserved this though, deserved to hear every harsh truth of the devastation he’d left behind. He was stupid for thinking she’d be sad for a bit and then move on, stupid because that wouldn’t be how he’d deal with it if she’d been the one who died. 

And maybe subconsciously that's why he’d never sought her out afterwards, never looked her up. The urge to keep tabs on her haunted him every day and night because no matter what, she was his , but a part of him worried what he’d find. Maybe she had moved on and he’d see her happy with someone else, or maybe she wouldn't be around at all. 

“It was only when I had my 20 week scan, when I saw her on that fucking screen and heard her heartbeat that it changed. That I couldn't hate her, not anymore. I loved her and she was all I had left of you. And you’ve been here this whole fucking time, doing god knows what when I’ve been out there raising her alone while trying to grieve,” her voice turned cold again and Ghost hated that more than the pain she’d held just moments before. It scared him, that tone. Reminded him so much of who he was now, of Ghost .  

There was so much he wanted to tell her, yet nothing came out of his useless fucking mouth as he looked down at her. Looked at how her shoulders slumped, eyes tired and red rimmed and face damp. She shook her head and blew out a shaky breath with her eyes closed. When they opened again, there was a mixture of fire and ice in them that made his stomach drop.

“Just know that I’m not here for you, I’m here ‘cause John told me we weren't safe. That Beth wasn't safe. Seems like all this bullshit was all for nothing, right? Since here we are anyway,” she scoffed and the look she levelled him left him feeling two feet tall. And she was right, wasn't she? ‘Cause if he’d done all this and caused all this pain to keep her safe, he’d well and truly failed. He’d fucked up his entire marriage and missed out on his daughter’s life for nothing.

“I wish I could take it all back,” he bit out honestly, wishing he could hop in a time machine and undo everything. She wouldn’t look at him again now, hands shaking by her sides.

“I won't keep her from you, not that you deserve her,” she started and the words cut him deeper than any knife could, even if all she spoke was truth. “But she deserves her dad. I told her all about you, since I thought you were fucking dead, and she thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. So I’ll let you build a bond with her because that's what she needs,” she took a step towards him then and his breathing hitched. A stupid part of his brain hoped she’d reach out, touch him, soothe him, fucking something , but he should have known better.

“Make no fucking mistake, Simon. If you break her heart, I will fucking end you,” she snarled, so much animosity that it genuinely shocked him because he’d never seen that on her before. And while it hurt that she had to threaten him like that, something flared inside of him that burned brighter than the sun. seeing how protective she was of his little girl, seeing that fire behind her eyes. Because despite the ray of sunshine he remembered her to be, something had awoken inside of her after becoming a mother, he could see it in her eyes. It wasn't an empty threat. He had no doubt she’d fucking end him or anyone that chose to hurt his little baby and he found himself grateful that she had a mother like her. 

Before he could say anything, before he could tell her he’d never dream of hurting her, that all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his pitiful life making up to both of them what he'd done, she was already storming past him. His dark eyes followed her as she brushed right past the men loitering at the door, all with wary looks on their faces like they were too scared to get caught up in hurricane Charlotte. She slammed the door behind her as she went inside and he dropped his head as the pain in his chest burned him in a vile way.

“Fuckin’ hell, Mrs Riley is scarier than he is,” Gaz murmured wryly, a tinge of awe in his voice. He yelped after a slap sounded but Ghost was too consumed by his own pain and misery to care who clipped him around the ear. The murmurs faded away as the door opened and closed again and now he was alone, he let out a pained noise, swaying on his feet. 

“Come on, big guy, aye?” Johnny sighed and it startled him, he hadn't realised anyone had stayed behind. Johnny guided him to the bench outside, helping him to sit heavily on it before he sat beside him. 

He couldn't contain it now, his shock had worn off and so much hit him all at once. He had a daughter who thought he was dead her whole life, his wife had tried to kill herself because of him and now she hated him. He dropped his head to his hands as wretched sobs wracked his large frame, unable to care that Soap was seeing him this way. The Lieutenant who was known for being stoic and emotionless had shown more emotions in half an hour than his entire time with the lads here. 

Johnny rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring some shite he couldn’t understand, even if his ears weren’t full of the sound of his cries. He desperately sucked air into his lungs, praying to a god he didn’t fucking believe in that the pain would ease, if only a little.

“I fucked up, Johnny. I can't fix this,” he lamented with a watery voice. How daft had he been to think he could fix this? That she’d overlook his lie because she missed him? That things could just be normal?

“Don’t talk like that, LT, just give her some space. She’s been through a lot and I’m sure her heads a wee bit fucked right now. Just a few hours ago, she thought ye were dead,” he replied carefully, his hand still rubbing his back. 

“Let her process it all, give her some space. Time heals all wounds and all that shit, aye?” he continued and Ghost felt his tears thankfully subside as he was able to breathe as he listened to the Sergeant mirror his own earlier thoughts.

“Don’t think there's enough time in the world that's gonna get her to forgive me this time,” his voice sounded like sandpaper, raw and scratchy.

“You’d be surprised. She clearly still loves ye, if she didn't she wouldn't be so upset. Just leave her be while she figures shit out and in the meantime, you got a little girl to get acquainted with,” Johnny gave him a smile and he nodded, unable to smile back. Thinking of Beth sent a different ache through his chest, one that was accompanied by a burning warmth. He knew he should heed his best friend's advice. Giving Charlotte space, as hard as it would be, would be for the best. She needed to wrap her head around everything that she'd learned before he could talk to her and beg for forgiveness. He wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to get to know his daughter without bothering Charlotte, so he’d hang back and let her take the reins. He'd already done enough damage. 

He just felt lucky that she was gracious enough to not keep him away from her. Despite all he’d put her through, she wanted them to have a relationship and that meant more than anything to him. He hoped in time she'd learn to forgive him, even if she didn't want him as a husband anymore. He needed her in his life, that much was painfully clear. These past five years he’d been walking around like a dead man and now he finally felt alive. And while it was something so viscerally painful, he knew he'd never be able to give her or Beth up, not again. 

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Interlude)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

Since we’re 27 chapters deep at this point, I thought I’d repost the prologue as an interlude to refresh you guys. Feel free to skip if you want but Act Two follows on straight from here.

I also wanted to clarify some timeline shit for anyone who might be a little lost. They got married in 2008 and then two years later in 2010 was when Simon bought them a house. The last two chapters were set in 2014, four years later. The relationship in total was eight years. Simon was deployed for around four months total, spending three of those captive by Roba. Charlotte was around 14 weeks pregnant by the time Simon came back on Christmas day but she had no idea.

I hope that makes things super clear.

Placebo - Sleeping With Ghosts

Hush It's okay Dry your eyes Dry your eyes Soulmate dry your eyes Dry your eyes Soulmate dry your eyes Cause soulmates never die

Price walked up the driveway, his heart hammering away behind his ribs. He’d faced a lot of things in his life and his line of work, yet nothing shook him quite like this did. Nothing made him panic quite like the task he was about to do, which was laughable given he wasn't in any danger. He blew out a shaky breath, removing his hat as he fisted it anxiously. He’d agonised over what to wear to this, wondering if more casual clothes would have been appropriate. He decided against it though, wearing some dark camo pants and a dark green t-shirt. He wanted to look the part, unsure of how he’d be received here. 

He knocked firmly, straightening up and trying to will some confidence within himself. He wasn't sure just what was eating at him but he knew if this went badly, Simon wouldn't be happy at all and he didn't want to let him down. Not with this . It was a big deal and part of him thought Simon should have come here himself, but he understood why he couldn't, not yet. It was better this way. Price just hoped the news would be received well. 

He heard shuffling behind the door before it swung open, revealing a petite and pretty woman with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. Before he got a word out, he saw her eyes flit over his uniform, her whole demeanour turning tense as she narrowed her eyes, gripping the door in the death grip. He’d never seen the woman in person but he found himself thinking how lucky a man his Lieutenant was. He opened his mouth to introduce himself but she beat him to it.

“Why are you here? He's been dead for five years,” she bit out, voice strained and he felt a pang in his chest as he saw her eyes glaze over with unshed tears.

“Mrs Riley… I’m Captain John Price. I don't mean to intrude but I really need a word. Can I come inside?” he asked politely, practically expecting the door to be slammed in his face. She looked conflicted and he could see the grief all over her, even after all this time. It was then he noticed she was still wearing her rings on her left ring finger, could see the chain of dog tags around her neck and he just knew what name would be on them. Fuckin’ hell, Simon, you arsehole.

“Please,” he added softly, his face imploring. He didn't want to deliver this news on her bloody doorstep. She pursed her lips before nodding tensely, moving away to let him in. He shut the door behind him and followed her into the living area. 

It looked cosy and his eyes drifted to the fireplace, noticing the framed picture on the centre of it. It was strange to see his second in command this way, unmasked and smiling on his wedding day. He looked younger, less jaded and beat down. Less scarred. The couple were something to behold together, Charlotte in her wedding dress as she grinned up at her new husband with nothing but pure unadulterated love on her face. He couldn't imagine how she’d taken the news when she’d been told Simon was dead. It must have crushed her. 

She moved to sit in one of the armchairs and he took a seat on the couch, perching on the edge, feeling tightly wound. He licked his lower lip, wondering how best to phrase what he needed to say as she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. 

“Simon told me alot about you,” he murmured awkwardly, wincing as she looked away quickly, folding her arms over herself like she was trying to create a barrier to protect herself. She was clearly still affected by it which didn’t bode well for what he was about to tell her. He knew she'd be relieved but mighty pissed. He knew he would be. 

“Charlotte-” he started, only to be interrupted.

“Mummy, who’s this?” a small voice asked and his head snapped to the stairs so fast, he thought he might break his bloody neck. A small girl was coming down the stairs in her little pyjamas with bunnies on them. A mass of blonde curls coming to her shoulders and deep, dark brown eyes he knew all too well.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispered, eyes wide as he stared at the clone of his lieutenent in miniature as she toddled down the stairs. She walked over to her mum, standing between her legs as Charlotte cupped her cheeks, stroking them gently.

“What are you doing up, sweet pea?” she asked softly.

“I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep,” the girl pouted before she turned her dark eyes to him. “Hello!” she grinned cheerfully and he suddenly felt like he’d had a hole punched right through his chest. 

“Hello, sweetie. What's your name?” he asked with a tentative smile.

“Elizabeth, but people call me Beth,” she replied and her smile rivalled the sun. Beth . 

“That's a very pretty name,” he smiled back at her and it made her smile widen.

“What's your name?” she asked curiously, tilting her head.

“My name is John,” he answered softly,

“Hello, Mr John!” she beamed and his throat closed up at how sweet she was. He suddenly found himself wondering how Simon was going to take the news. He’d missed out on so much, wasn’t even aware he had a fucking kid. He was completely lost in thought, only brought out when the little girl spoke again.

“It's almost my birthday! I’m gonna be five!” she grinned, holding up five fingers and almost dancing on the spot with excitement. He couldn't help the smile that graced his face.

“Wow, that's a big number. You're gonna be a big girl,” he replied with a grin and she giggled. The sound felt like it filled up his hollow chest and he didn’t know how to process it. This little girl wasn't just Simon’s family, she was his family too. She was family to the 141. 

“I didn't know I was pregnant. I found out two weeks after…” Charlotte trailed off, looking away and stroking the girl's soft curls as if to ground herself. He couldn’t imagine going through all of that alone after such news and he feared her reaction even more now. He didn't want to mention it in front of Elizabeth though.

“Are you an army man? Like daddy?” she asked excitedly, catching him off guard again. He wasn't sure why it shocked him that Charlotte had told her about Simon, of course she would. Yet it stunned him anyway. 

“I am,” he replied carefully and her eyes lit up for a moment. 

“Mummy said he was a hero! He saved people! But now he's an angel in heaven. He keeps me safe,” she murmured, a slight sadness now overtaking her voice that John hated more than anything. The poor girl thought her dad was fucking dead and he cursed Simon for sending him here. 

“Are you a hero too, Mr John?” she asked curiously and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“I try to be, sweetheart,” he replied, trying to give her a smile. 

“Sweetie, you need to go back to bed, okay? Let me speak to Mr John and I’ll come up and read you a story. You go up and pick one,” Charlotte instructed softly and Beth grinned with a nod.

“Okay! Bye Mr John!” she beamed, waving at him before she ran off, trotting up the stairs once more. His chest ached, his head pounding with the situation he found himself in. 

“I don't mean to be rude John, but why are you here?” Charlotte asked. She looked worn down and he felt another pang in his chest as he looked at her. Girl looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I… fuckin’ hell…” he trailed off, wringing the hat in his hands anxiously. She watched him expectantly and he couldn't meet her eyes. 

“Simon’s not dead,” he blurted, needing to get it out of his mouth like poison. Silence overtook the room then and he felt nerves well up inside of him, eyes glancing over to her as she blinked dumbly for a long moment. But then a wave of grief washed over her face before it hardened and she glared at him.

“Is this some idea of a sick joke? You come into my house, talk to my fucking daughter and you come to fuck with my head like this?” she hissed at him and he shook his head vehemently. 

“I’m not… I’m tellin’ the truth, Charlotte. He’s alive,” he implored, watching as a myriad of emotions crossed her face. She looked lost, like she was being swept out to sea and he found himself standing, moving to crouch in front of her and take her trembling hands in his own.

“How… he can’t... they told me he was dead,” she mumbled tearfully, a dazed look to her face as she frowned and shook her head.

“It’s complicated. He went through…- Some shit happened on a mission and it followed him home, they thought he was dead. On paper he was killed, but he’s still alive. He's on my task force and he sent me here,” he explained, squeezing her hands softly hoping to help ground her.

“He’s alive? And he didn't… he didn’t contact me?” she asked, her voice now small and distraught at the idea. She looked so confused and Price swallowed thickly.

“He wanted to keep you safe, he thought it was best. That’s… that's a conversation you need to have with him, I’m afraid. But I’m not just there for this,” he muttered with a wince, looking at her sheepishly as her tear stricken face turned to him. He knew he'd already dropped a bomb on her and she looked like she didn’t know which way was up.

“You need to come with me, back to our base,” he explained, feeling like he was ready to face an explosion. She blinked at him for a long moment before a laugh bubbled from her lips, but it wasn't one of amusement. She sounded delirious.

“What? I just found out my husband isn't actually dead and purposely fucked off and left me on my own to raise our kid, and now we need to move? Am I having a stroke or something?” she asked, eyes wild and incredulous as she looked at him. He let her hands go, moving back to sit on the sofa, wiping a hand over his face. He really wished Simon had come here himself, he was going to fucking kill him.

“I know it's a lot to take in, but his identity’s been compromised. Some bad people know he isn’t dead and it isn't hard to trace you back to him. You're not safe and neither is Beth. Simon wants you on the base so you’ll be protected, just until the threat is dealt with.”

“Oh, he wants us on the base now our lives are in danger? Fucking fantastic,” she huffed, wiping her face angrily before blowing out a deep breath, hanging her head. He left her alone for a moment to process the information and after a few long moments she looked at him once more, a defeated look across her face. He knew she didn't want to, but knowing her daughter wasn't safe would force her to go with him.

“When do we need to leave?” she asked with a heavy sigh.

“Now, preferably,” he explained sheepishly, watching her take another deep inhale, her eyes closed. 

“Let me pack some stuff,” she muttered and he nodded, watching uncomfortably as she stood. 

He sat on the couch for a long while as she packed the stuff for both her and Beth and his mind drifted to his second once more. Simon was in for a shock when they turned up, an addition he wasn't aware of in tow. Not to mention his very pissed off and hurt wife. He wasn't sure if Simon had prepared himself for the wrath Price knew was coming. Maybe he thought she’d just be grateful he was alive. He had no doubt she was but he’d seen the hurt on her face when she found out he'd been avoiding her for all these years. There had been so much she’d had to do by herself, the pregnancy, the birth, raising the girl. All of it alone, thinking her husband was dead. 

He knew from Simon that she had no family. His family had become her family but then they were all gone and he fucked off. Maybe it was an easier pill to swallow to think he was dead, that it hadn't been his choice to leave. Knowing he'd made this choice, that he’d left willingly , well he knew that had to leave a bad taste in her mouth. He thought of the small blonde then, looking so much like her father it was almost scary. She thought her daddy was an angel in heaven and now she was going to meet him. He couldn’t imagine how that would fuck with her head. 

“I’m just gonna step outside to make a phone call,” he murmured awkwardly as he stood, looking over to where she was stuffing some teddies into a backpack. She glanced over at him but didn't stop what she was doing.

“Tell him to go fuck himself while you're at it,” she huffed, her wobbly voice betraying how upset she was even if she was trying to seem more angry than hurt. He gave her a sad but wry smile as he nodded, moving to leave the house and walk to his car. He couldn't just turn up with a child like that, his Lieutenant was likely to have a fucking aneurysm if he did. He needed to let him know, at least warn him of the tiny whirlwind that would be coming back to base.

He knew it would be a lot to deal with but he didn't want the small girl's feelings to get hurt if her dad acted like a right arsehole with her in his shocked stupor. The ride back to base would take around two hours so he hoped it would be enough time for Simon to get his head in gear for what was coming for him. Some might have called it karma.

The phone rang twice before the gruff voice came through the other end.

“Price, is she alright?” he rushed out, not even bothering to hide the fear in his voice. This past week since all this came to a head had been tense for the entire team. He was the only one who knew of Charlotte since he’d met Simon when they were together. He'd worked with Simon once before he faked his death, before the Mexico bullshit happened. Then after, he'd been the one to take the man in after the hell he'd been through, been there when he'd made the choice to lie to her. 

He’d never met the girl but he knew the masked soldier was head over heels in love with her. He’d tried to convince him not to be a dick and play dead but he couldn't get through to the man. He was too pig headed for his own good sometimes and in a way, John got why he did what he did. But now seeing the damage that was done, well, he was starting to rethink his position on it. 

Once Simon realised his wife wasn't safe, he came to the terrifying realisation he needed to let her know he was very much alive because he needed to bring her to the base. The fucker was going to get Price to bring her there while he fucked off elsewhere so he could keep the charade up, but that was where Price firmly drew the line. His Lieutenant had been a wreck since and it hadn't been made any better when the rest of the 141, including Ale and Rudy who were honorary members and currently helping with their situation, hadn’t shut up about the fact that Ghost had a fucking secret wife. They were all in for a fucking treat now, weren't they?

“She’s pretty upset, I don't know what the fuck you were expectin’. She’s taken it pretty badly that you left her willingly,” he bit out with a sigh, wiping a hand over his tired face. He heard a shaky exhale down the line that stretched onto an uncomfortable silence. He knew Ghost was dealing with a lot of emotions right now, something he wasn't used to. Not anymore. Ghost was known for being stoic, for being emotionless, empty like a shell. He was always as cool as a cucumber, unflappable, unable to be ruffled. The entire team had seen a side to him only Price had been privy to before with all the emotions this had brought up for the man.

“Simon… I need to tell you somethin’ before we get there,” he murmured hesitantly. He felt a twisting in his gut and he tried to ignore it. 

“What is it?” he asked carefully, apprehension bleeding through his tone. John inhaled a deep breath, blowing it out of his nose slowly. 

“When you left… fuckin’ hell… Charlotte was pregnant. You’ve got a daughter,” he admitted quietly and he heard nothing but dead silence on the other end that made that twisting in his gut even worse. 

“Hey, Cap, the fuck ye say to LT? I think ye broke him,” Soap snorted down the line.

“Where's Ghost?” Price bit out, panic settling in his bones. The idea of him freaking out over this to the point of rejecting his child made him feel sick. He never knew with Ghost. He wasn't the same as Simon, the two were very separate in the way they dealt with things. 

“Dunno, he just shoved the phone at me and fucked off. What's goin’ on?” Soap asked curiously.

“I need you to get him, make sure he’s alright,” John sighed.

“Cap?” he asked worriedly.

“He’s got a fuckin’ kid, Johnny. Charlotte didn't find out until just after she was told he was dead,” John swallowed thickly.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap whispered and John could just imagine his wide blue eyes at the news.

“I can't have him losin’ it. I don’t give a shit what he’s dealin’ with, this is his mess and he needs to deal with it. He needs to get his head out of his arse before this little girl gets here or I’ll fuckin’ have him,” John growled, already protective of the sweet tiny Riley.

“Aye, I’ll talk with him, try to get his head on right,” Soap affirmed and he knew Johnny would do his best. As much as Ghost liked to pretend otherwise, the two were best mates and if anyone could talk some sense into him, it would be Johnny.

“Tell him… tell him she’s called Beth. Elizabeth,” John murmured softly and he heard Soap’s intake of breath over the line. They didn't need to voice the emotion they both felt. 

“Will do,” he replied somberly. 

His ears were ringing, eyes unseeing as he sat on his bed. He felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe and he ripped the mask off his face, letting it fall to the floor as he tried desperately to inhale air. A kid. He had a fucking daughter. His brain couldn't quite wrap his head around it, emotions not kicking in yet as all he felt was blind panic. A child. How the fuck was he gonna manage that? Was he even capable of being a good father now? He’d already fucked up, already missed out on almost five years of her fucking life and left Charlotte to do it all herself. 

He knew deep down that faking his death was a mistake. Fucking hell, he’d known that long ago but had been too much of a coward to rectify it. And if he’d have known she was carrying his child then he’d never have done it. Never have left her alone to raise a child by herself. Never have abandoned his own kid. It made him feel sick. He was already dealing with the deep shame and regret of hurting Charlotte. He could only imagine how hurt she was right now and he knew he’d deserve whatever she threw at him when she got here. 

He wished he could take it back, he really did, but it was too late now. He’d fucked up and now his ghosts were coming to haunt him. He knew he was in a state of shock and he dreaded to think what he’d feel once he had the capacity. He had to switch it off, had to be Ghost because he couldn’t have a fucking mental breakdown when they both got here. It wouldn't be fair to Charlotte, wouldn't be fair to his little girl. He had to be strong, had to bottle it all up until he could deal with it later on his own. He just had to get through this first meeting, maybe it would be easier after. 

There was a knock at his door and before he could tell whoever it was to fuck off, it opened. Johnny came in, a sympathetic smile on his face that let him know Price had told him. 

“I hear congrats are in order,” he murmured wryly and Simon’s heart thudded dully in his chest, not even managing a smile back or a witty retort. Johnny moved over to sit next to him on the bed, leaning his arms on his thighs as he leaned forward. 

“I… I know ye goin’ through a lot, Si. I cannae even imagine how fucked yer head must be…” he trailed off softly, as if he was talking to a spooked animal. He was.

“I’m not gonna freak out,” Ghost bit out, running his hands through his hair in agitation. He hated that he had to wait. He’d rather get it all over with, rip it off like a fucking plaster. Soap gave him a look with a raised brow, one that told him he didn’t believe him in the least and Ghost blew out a breath and shook his head.

“I’ll be fine. Get this over with and then… I don’t fuckin’ know,” he frowned, a pain in his chest blooming and radiating throughout his entire being. The thought of Charlotte's tearful face made him feel sick. He'd always hated seeing her cry, especially when it had been his fault. He wasn't proud that he’d made her cry a fair few times over the years ‘cause he was a right fucking bastard when he wanted to be. But knowing she would be hurt more than ever made him feel like he wanted to throw up. 

“She uh… She’s called Elizabeth… Beth… by the way,” Johnny murmured carefully, his voice thick. Beth . Tommy. Joseph. Mum. Elizabeth Riley. Fuck . His chest tightened again, a lump in his throat growing until it felt the size of his fist. His hands shook as he balled them up, pressing them into his thighs as he inhaled shakily. 

He flinched when he felt Johnny’s large hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. If his head wasn't so fucked, he’d have made a comment about it. As it was, it was taking all of his willpower not to break down. After a few more shaky deep breaths, he nodded resolutely and stood, slipping his mask back on, literally and figuratively.

“Let’s go to the gym, spar for a bit,” he suggested, his voice firm and not giving the Sergeant an option. He needed a distraction. The waiting would kill him.

“Aye. whatever ye want, LT,” Soap replied, giving him a sad smile as he stood too. Maybe beating the shit out of his best mate would help him feel a little better. He doubted it but it wouldn't hurt to try. He needed to stuff Simon back in his box, lock him up tightly and just get through the day. 

A child. Fucking hell, he was fucked. Just another person to add to the list of those he let down. Another person for him to hurt. He had a wife he didn't deserve and a child he'd never met. He cursed Price for not letting him run off like he wanted and he cursed himself for being such a fucking coward, for being such a piece of shit. He was a Riley through and through. He really was his father's son. 

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Oh, baby, this is it!!!

The last chapter of Act One. I hope you guys are ready for the hell I’m gonna bestow on you all lmaooo

I just wanted to say, while I have a bunch of shit written for Act Two and a boat load of ideas, I am up for suggestions. If there's something you'd like to see in the fic, don't be a stranger. I can't guarantee I’ll do it, if it doesn't mesh with the ideas I have, but as a free writer, my work is always evolving and taking on a life of its own. So hit me up if there's some specific shit you wanna see.

Also this chapter is a little rough so… re-read the tags and take care of your mental health.

Placebo - A Million Little Pieces

There wasn't much I used to need

A smile would blow a summer breeze through my heart

Now my mistakes are haunting me

Like winter came and put a freeze on my heart

I've lost the power to understand

What it takes to be a man with my heart

I saw you wanted this to end

You tried your best to be a friend to my heart

But I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Whenever I was feeling wrong

I used to go and write a song from my heart

But now I feel I've lost my spark

No more glowing in the dark for my heart

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand? (Can't you see I'm sick of fighting?)

Understand? (Can't you tell I've lost my way?)

Understand? (Look at me there's no denying)

Understand? (I won't last another day)

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Then I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces now

A burst pipe was dripping, the nose echoing in the desolate concrete room. Sounded like a bullet ricocheting off the walls. Simon fucking wished it was, wished it ricocheted right into his brain. How long had he been here? It all bled together, felt like forever at this point. His body was well and truly broken, had so much done to him that he’d been sure he was a goner multiple times, yet somehow he was still clinging on. His mind though, that he was trying to clutch with all of his might, bloodied fingers and all. 

He wasn't sure just where it all went wrong, to be betrayed by his superior like he had, to wind up in the hands of a monster. Roba wanted him to join their side, thought he’d make a great soldier for him. Wanted him a mindless drone to follow his brutal orders. An unstoppable machine. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t ever fucking do it but boy was Roba determined to try and break him. 

It had been your run of the mill torture at first but Simon was prepared for that, fucking passed his RTI training with flying colours for a reason. But when that didn't work it got meaner, more brutal, until Simon’s body was littered with scars, so many he was sure he looked like mincemeat. The one that sliced through his top lip into his cheek had been the most painful. It was still trying to heal. 

When Roba realised he wasn't getting anywhere to break his new favourite toy, he resorted to tactics that Simon hadn’t been prepared for, ones that had damaged his psyche beyond repair. He’d been confused when the first prostitute had been brought to him and he’d been horrified at what they wanted him to do. He was married and he wasn’t about to fuck a hooker. Roba hadn't liked that though and as the poor girl hit the floor with a thud, bullet hole in her head, Simon had felt bile clawing its way up his throat. He might not have pulled the trigger but he damn well killed her, and that was the fucking point wasn’t it? The mind games. 

Roba knew he'd play along more if innocent lives were threatened and so that's what he did. He kept bringing him women that if he was honest, might not have even been willing participants and they forced him to be touched against his will. And if he didn’t get hard, didn’t fucking finish as they watched like the sick perverts they were, the girls wound up beaten or dead. He wasn't sure he’d ever be right in the head again if he ever got out of here, especially not when it got even worse when even that hadn’t broken him completely. 

Then it turned into the men taking turns with him, being used in a way he’d never even considered. He felt dirty, like he’d never wash clean, like he was tarnished from the inside out and all he could think about was her. Could she still love him after he’d been with other people? No, that wasn't right was it? Hadn’t been voluntary, hadn’t been willing. He knew exactly what it was he went through, the R word that burned in the back of his mind like vitriol. He’d been defiled. 

Would she think of him differently or would she open her arms out to him, wrap them around him in a tender embrace and tell him it would all be okay? Simon’s eyes closed, tears leaking down the sides as he lay on the hard concrete floor, the cold biting into his broken and naked body. He could just about hear her, the delicate voice floating through the peripheries of his shattered mind.

I’ve got you, Si. I love you.

A deep and aching sob wracked his bruised chest, his heart yearning so fiercely for her that it caused him more physical pain than the beatings. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in check, the only thing he was clinging onto so desperately. He needed to get back to her, needed to be in her arms, needed to feel like he was still a man, still worthy of love. 

He felt so disconnected from everything, disjointed and wrong. Nothing felt like it made sense anymore other than her. He’d never allow them to break him because he couldn't leave her all alone. He’d promised her that years ago, made it solid with his vows to her. He wouldn't die here, wouldn't leave her grieving and alone. He’d get back to her no matter what it took. 

His whole body tensed up as he heard the door down the hall rattle, the key in the lock turning. A cold, creeping fear trickled through his veins like ice and his chest felt like it caved in. He knew what was coming for him, knew what time it was. And so, he allowed himself to float away somewhere else. Somewhere it was warm, somewhere with blue soft eyes gazing at him, a bright smile just for him, small hands smoothing through his hair and telling him it was all okay. He'd be okay as long as he was with her. 

He’d been through a lot of horrible things in his life but nothing could top the last three months. Nothing could top being hung by his ribs with a meat hook or being buried alive with his dead, treacherous CO. But even then, he hadn't given up. Even bloody and gasping and retching and fractured. He’d dug his way out of that grave with the jaw bone of his bastard of a Major, got himself right out. Finally. He could go back to her. She was all he ached for, all he wanted. 

Getting out of Mexico had been a blur, wound up being picked up by a Captain called John Price that he’d briefly worked with before. He wasn’t sure how he fucking found him, wasn’t sure of anything anymore and then weeks were spent in hospital as he recovered. His brain was fuzzy, his mind trying to erase the horrors he’d endured, trying to stuff them into a box so deep in his mind he’d never be able to find them. Didn't work though, did it? His body recovered, leaving awful scars that covered every part of him. His face made him sick, a scar along his cheek and lip and one that curved around his left temple. Would she flinch when she looked at him? Would she feel as sick as he did? Would she still look at him the same? His body might have healed but his mind sure hadn't. He had this hope, that once he was home, once he was back with her that it would all be okay. She’d make it okay. 

“You thought any more about what I said?” John asked him, watching as Simon slid a hoodie on. The man had been kind enough, slowly earning his trust after not leaving his side. 

“We both know I wouldn't pass a psych eval… not anymore,” he bit out. He tried not to think of the nightmares or the crippling panic attacks he kept getting out of nowhere. Tried not to think about the dreams where he was hurting people, hurting innocent women and enjoying it. Tried to tell himself that Roba hadn't won, he hadn't. 

“Doesn't really matter about that, does it? You've got potential, Simon. A bit of therapy and I think you’d be good to go. I’d love to have you on my team,” the man murmured, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt honoured that after all he went through, this man, a seemingly good man, had decided he was worth something. Decided that he wanted him on board. He felt like a fragile piece of porcelain, cracked and waiting to fall to pieces. He was nothing like the brave soldier he’d thought he was. 

“I appreciate it but… I’m done. I want out. Just wanna get home, back to my wife. Wanna… settle down, get better, have kids. I don't want this life anymore,” he admitted hoarsely. 

His hand moved to his tags, the pendant she got him still there. A tether to her. He couldn't do this life anymore, not after all he’d been through. He just wanted a normal life, wanted to just be with Charlotte. John nodded, moving at a snail's pace to tap him on the shoulder. He still flinched anyway but he was getting better. He hoped to god he wouldn't flinch at Lottie’s touch, he knew it would break her. Her soft heart would already hurt for him when she found out what he’d endured. 

“Alright, well… Here's my number anyway. Call me if you change your mind or… if you just need a chat,” he smiled and Simon nodded, grateful for the man who just appeared in his life when he needed him. He’d never forget his help. 

“Thanks, John,” he murmured. 

He got the special treatment of a private military plane back to Manchester and he looked around at the pitiful smattering of snow and the twinkling lights people had up. It was Christmas day. Even after everything he’d been through, he was excited to see her, his stomach twisting in knots at the prospect. She’d be so surprised to see him and he just needed to feel her, needed to take in her comforting scent and to hear her beating heart. 

A thought occurred to him then and he decided to go to his mum’s first and he knew Tommy, Beth and Jo would be there after spending Christmas day there. Not really to see them as he knew his current scarred state would cause quite a stir but because Lottie’s present was there so she wouldn't see it. His mum had helped him with it. He’d been so excited about giving it to her. While he knew it was wrong, he decided he wouldn't tell his family what happened to him, they didn't need to know those horrors. He’d come up with some bullshit about a bomb or something to cover for his scars. He would tell Lottie though, she deserved to know the truth and why he’d come back different. 

He was glad the houses weren’t too far apart, his steps picking up as he saw his mum’s house. The lights outside blinked rapidly and he smiled at the stupid inflated snowman in the front garden. It wasn't lost on him how close to death he’d been not too long ago and all these little things he’s taken for granted meant so much more to him now. He moved through the front gate, approaching the door and frowning when he saw it was open a crack. 

“Mum! You’ve left the door open!” he called out, pushing it open as he stepped inside. For a house full of people on Christmas day, it was eerily silent and Simon felt a chill sweep up his spine, his military alertness taking over. 

“Mum! Tommy!” he called out warily, moving inside the house fully. 

As he walked into the living room, the world stopped turning and he couldn't breathe. Mum. She was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree and his first thought had been that she’d had a fall or a heart attack or stroke. But as he rushed to her, turning her over to her back, blood pounded in his ears at the bullet hole in her head. No, no, no. 

He jumped up, hands clutching the sides of his head as he shut his eyes, frantically shaking his head. He’d had dreams like this before. It was a dream, it had to be. Yet when he opened his eyes again, the lifeless body of his mum stared back at him. He looked to his left seeing Beth slumped on the couch, bullet wound to the head. He couldn't hear the wounded noises he was making with the pulse blaring in his ears but his cheeks were wet and he clawed at his chest as he tried to breathe. Joseph was in the armchair, body half falling off with blood dripping from his small head.

“No…” he wailed, swaying on his feet as he stumbled over. His hands shook, hovering over the boy before he carefully lifted him so he didn't fall, leaning him against the chair. Tears fell in rivulets, loud and gut wrenching sobs tearing at his throat as he cradled the boy's bloody head. 

Tommy, where's Tommy? His lower lip quivered as he released Joseph, looking around with blurry eyes as he tried to make sense of what happened. He needed to find Tommy. Tommy had to be okay. He moved around the room before going into the kitchen and something broke in him completely at the sight of his baby brother laying on the floor in a pool of blood. An agonised noise left his lips as he fell to his knees on the floor, arms going around his brother uncaring of the blood. He was cold, so cold and he sobbed, clutching Tommy as if it would breathe life back into him. Bad dream, had to be a bad dream, need to wake up, wake up. 

“Was hoping you’d show up.”

The voice made him whip around, eyes widening to see Washington, one his squad mates who had also been taken. He’d thought he’d died. The man looked at him with cold eyes, devoid of the life he’d known them to be and it all clicked in his head. He’d been turned, been sent here to dole out Simon’s punishment for getting away, for not bending to Roba’s will. They’d died because of him. 

He set his brother's body down, standing up to his full height. He towered over Washington but the man was unflinching, gun dangling in his hand. Big mistake. So much pain and rage swept through him that he could hardly contain it. He lunged at him and the fucker wasn’t prepared for it. The gun clattered to the ground but Simon didn't care about that, didn’t need a fucking weapon because he was one. 

He knocked him onto the floor and Washington tried to scramble away, shocked when Simon’s fist collided with his temple and stunned him. But he didn't stop there, couldn't stop there. His fist hit and hit and hit and hit until the man's head was nothing but a pile of broken bones and mush. Until there was brain matter dangling out of his useless split open skull. Until there was no noise coming from the man other than the sick squelching of his head. His rage knew no bounds, ragged breaths ripping in and out of his lungs violently. He couldn't make sense of how he got here, couldn't make sense of anything. Charlotte. Oh god no. 

He took off with his heart in his throat, tearing out of the house and running down the street at inhuman speed. The fear he felt was like nothing else he’d ever experienced as he kept running until he felt sick. He pushed himself until their house came into view, Christmas lights up in the window. He came to a screeching halt at the living room window, seeing Lottie folding up washing and putting it on the couch to sort out. 

The relief he felt made him crumple to his knees, vomit projecting out of him at a painful speed and onto the driveway. She was alive, she was okay. She wouldn't be though. Roba would come for her, he’d get her because she was all Simon had left and his heart ran cold at the notion. His family were dead. Gone completely. He’d never see his mum's warm smile, see Beth’s kind eyes or hear sweet Joseph's laugh again. And Tommy… he’d never hear his stupid jokes again, never roll his eyes at him, never give him big brotherly advice, never hear him poke fun at him for anything and everything. His baby brother who he’d fought so hard to protect his entire life and he’d failed him. He was dead because of him, he’d killed him. 

He wished he’d died back in Mexico so he didn't have to endure the searing pain ripping through his soul. And if he lost Lottie… no, he couldn’t, he fucking refused. He quickly left before she saw him, a plan forming in his mind. He needed to kill Roba, she’d never be safe if he didn’t. Would she be safe even if he did? This proved his line of work was dangerous and he’d made many enemies over the years. He'd never really thought it would bleed into his personal life and now look what happened. 

He couldn't do that to her. Having her alive was better than having her with him temporarily just to die because of him. The idea of leaving her like that was painful, he knew just what he was doing by breaking his promise of leaving her alone, but he had no choice. He couldn't have her die because of him. He had to make this right somehow, how to get justice and revenge for his family, had to keep his wife safe even if he had to hurt her in order to do that. He made his way back to his mum's house, a sick feeling festering in his stomach like an infected wound. 

There was this eerie emptiness that suddenly wrapped around him like a blanket and he welcomed it. Something shifted within himself and he felt it deep in his core. Simon Riley didn't exist anymore, there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man. A ghost, doomed to haunt the earth as his penance. And so, he did the only thing that made sense, setting fire to the house in some kind of funeral pyre for his family, leaving his tags on that murdering cunts neck so he could finally kill himself once and for all. 

The one thing he grabbed before he left was the gift he’d made for Charlotte. He didn't have much left of her now, this was it. He’d left his tags behind as much as it wounded him, but he could keep this. Remind himself he was doing this for her. 

When he was far enough away from the house, he made the trek into the city centre, head down and avoiding everyone. He finally got to his destination, chest heavy with grief as he eyed the bus stop in front of him. He could almost envision himself sitting there as if he was a spectator, watch Lottie stroll up in that little dress, watch her pluck his cold heart right out of his chest and warm it up. 

He blinked rapidly, tears falling down his miserable and marred face, moving over to sit down, clutching the gift tightly. He wished so badly he could say goodbye to her, to feel her embrace, to feel her soft kiss just one more time, but in a way he knew he’d never be able to leave her if he saw her tearful face. He rummaged in his pockets, reaching out the two gifts off John. A pocket knife and a burner phone. He flicked the knife out, scratching into the metal seat at his side carefully. 

S.R 

<3

C.R

Maybe she’d see that one day, maybe she’d see it and know it was him, maybe it would comfort her. His lower lip wobbled horribly and he wiped at his eyes, pressing call on the only contact in his phone. 

“Hello?” he answered after two rings. 

“Price… I need help,” he choked out, unable to stay strong under the unbreakable weight of his pain. 

He willed that coldness to come back to him, that emptiness was much easier to handle than all of this emotion. He needed to bury himself, needed to become nothing but a ghost so he could carry out his revenge and keep Charlotte safe. He didn't deserve to have a happy life with her like he’d longed for, was stupid for ever thinking it was possible really, wasn't he? He was nothing but bad luck, cursing everyone he loved to a painful death. He’d never be able to make up for what he’d caused but he’d spend the rest of his miserable life making sure Charlotte wouldn't suffer the same fate. 

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Six)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Eeep! One more chapter after this for Act One.

This one ties things up on Charlotte's end and the next one will tie things up on Simon’s. I’ll warn you, the next chapter is starting the angst/hurt early lmao

August 30th 2014

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Charlotte murmured as she lay in bed with Simon. They were facing each other, the room lit dimly by the bedside lamp. The clock read 4.35 am and Simon was due to ship off for a mission soon. It had been hard for her to adjust to the SAS missions with the fact she had zero contact with him until he came home but with time, it had slowly gotten easier to deal with. 

“I know, love. At least I got to spend your birthday with you this time,” he replied ruefully, his hand buried in the hair at the nape of her neck and he rubbed it soothingly. It was always hit and miss if he’d be around for her birthday or not but she was used to it now.

“I guess, you’ll be gone for yours though,” she pouted, making him grin as he leaned over, closing the gap as he placed a tender kiss to her lips. 

If she was honest with herself, she figured by now after being together for eight years, he’d have gotten bored of her, that the relationship might have run its course, but it hadn’t. It was still going strong, she still had those same butterflies in her stomach when he kissed her as she had at that damn bus stop. 

His lips trailed down to her jaw and then her neck and a smile curled on her lips as he rolled her to her back with him hovering over her as he lavished her neck with attention.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about somethin’,” he purred against her skin, nipping her and eliciting a gasp in return.

“What's that?” she asked, barely paying attention when he was kissing her neck like that. He settled heavily between her legs, the pair still naked after the night before and she could feel how hard he was. He moved slightly to look at her, those deep brown eyes peering right to her soul.

“Was thinkin’... when I get back we could start tryin’ for a baby,” he confessed and she blinked up at him for a moment as his words pinged around her brain. A baby. He wanted a baby with her. 

She’d had to come off the contraceptive pill a couple of months back due to having some unpleasant side effects so they’d been using condoms the entire time. They’d been super careful at first but she’d admit that the past two weeks had been a little more sloppy. He’d fucked her a fair few times without a rubber, complaining he hated the feel of them and he’d pull out. Two of those times, he hadn't managed to pull out on time. She wasn’t too concerned though, she had a feeling it would take some effort to knock her up and she tried not to let that worry her. She was still thrown for a loop that he wanted a baby with her.

“Are you sure? It's a pretty big decision,” she said carefully, looking up at him. He nuzzled his nose against hers, causing her to smile at his affectionate touch.

“Positive. Been thinkin’ about it ever since I saw you with Jo as a baby,” he confessed and she was even more dumbfounded. They hadn’t really talked about having kids before and if she was honest, she hadn't thought he wanted any. She’d been fine with that but now he was saying he wanted to try for a baby and she felt excitement bloom in her belly. 

“We might need to see a doctor though, with my PCOS it could be hard to get pregnant,” she murmured, raking her hands through his short hair and he shivered. 

“That's fine by me, sweetheart,” his lips collided with hers then but there was an urgency there that hadn't been before. He dominated her mouth, rubbing his straining cock against her in a way that had her moaning. It was crazy how wet he was able to get her with nothing but a kiss and he slid inside of her easily with one swift movement. They both moaned and he gave her no respite as he started pounding into her, one hand propped by her head and the other gripping the flesh on her thigh as he hitched her leg up his hip. 

“Can’t wait to put a baby in you,” he groaned, punctuating his words by a hard thrust that made her see stars. “Pump you full of my cum until it takes, have you all full and round for me,” he drawled, sounding half delirious and Lottie was dumbfounded that her husband seemed to have some form of breeding kink, not that she was complaining. His words made her whine as she arched up at him and he chuckled darkly, the hand on her thigh moving to her neck, squeezing it and making her head rush deliciously. 

“Simon,” his name left her lips in a broken moan and a long drawn out groan got ripped from his throat.

“You like that, love? Like the idea of me knockin’ you up?” he growled but she could do little else but nod as her body was jostled with the force of his thrusts. He was panting and moaning above her, unashamed in his wanton behaviour as he pounded into her. 

“Fuckin’ hell, look at you. So eager for me to fill you up,” he groaned and his voice was hoarse, tense like he was a second away from shattering. He shifted the angle of his hips and she cried out, back bowing as her orgasm crashed over her out of nowhere. Her body twitched under his, pleasure rolling over her in waves as he cursed up a storm before shooting his load inside of her. 

She felt like she was floating as she came down from her high and he rested his head in the crook of her neck as he tried to catch his breath. She ran her hands through his hair lovingly and she felt him smile against her neck, placing a tender kiss there before he moved to look at her. 

“I love you,” he murmured and she couldn't help the smile on her face.

“I love you too,” she replied softly. 

They spent a little more time in bed, wrapped around each other before it was time for him to leave. It never got easier to say goodbye to him but she hoped she could distract herself well enough until it was time for him to come back. He said they hoped to be back by Christmas but they couldn't promise anything.

“You sure you’ve got everything?” she asked him as she stood at the door. He had his duffel with him, fully dressed and ready to go. She was in one of his shirts.

“Yeah, got all I need. Make sure you stay safe, yeah? You know if you need owt, just ring up mum or Tommy,” he insisted, the same speech he always gave her, not that he needed to. When he was deployed she spent a lot of time at Anne’s or with Beth.

“Yes, sir,” she smirked and he raised a brow, giving her a look that told her if he wasn't in a rush to leave, he’d have her bent over his knee. 

He stepped closer, dropping his duffel on the floor next to him as an arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand cupping her jaw as he kissed her senseless. He plundered her mouth thoroughly until her lungs burned and only then did he pull away. 

“Gonna miss you, love,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against hers softly as she melted into him.

“I’ll miss you too. You try to stay safe too please. Need you home in one piece,” she implored, gazing up at him. He nodded, placing a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose before placing one on her lips too. When he moved away, she felt the loss already and tried to ignore it. 

“I’ll try my best, sweetheart. I always do,” he smiled softly at her, a special smile he always saved just for her and it made her chest fill with warmth. She took his hand, nuzzling it before kissing his knuckles and his eyes softened as he looked at her. 

“Get going before you get in trouble,” she shooed him off, not wanting him to leave but not wanting him to be late. He was up for a promotion soon and he’d been working his arse off for it. To say she was proud of him was an understatement. He nodded, looking at her with the same regretful face he always wore on the days they had to part with each other. 

“I’ll see you soon, Lottie,” he smiled softly.

“See you soon. Hopefully sooner rather than later so you can knock me up,” she smirked and his soft smile turned into a devilish grin.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he flashed her an award winning smile, looking like someone who just won the lottery at the thought of having a child with her and she was once again struck with wonder that this man was her husband. 

She waved to him as he left, shutting the door behind her with a heaving sigh. It would be a rough few months but she’d cope, she always did. And now she had something extra to look forward to when he got back. 

Christmas Day 2014

Charlotte had cleaned the house from top to bottom and she was exhausted. She’d had Christmas dinner at around 1 pm at Anne’s house and it had been perfect, as it always was. She then spent a few hours playing with Joseph and his new toys. She loved playing with him, he had such a vivid imagination. She knew he preferred to play with Simon, who always made time for his little nephew, but with him not being here, he was more than happy for her to take his place. 

They’d all hoped Simon would turn up today but she already had a feeling he wouldn't make it dead on Christmas. She was hoping maybe he’d get there the next day, she missed him more than she could vocalise. 

She was already thinking about the plans she needed to make when he got home.

She’d been having trouble with her PCOS again, her periods deciding to vanish or just minor spotting so she was planning to ask Simon to go with her when he got back to see the gynaecologist. She was nervous to go by herself and she also thought it was important for him to understand what was going on with her body if they were going to start trying for a baby. She only ever had regular periods when she was on the pill so she wasn't surprised she was having issues now she had to come off it.

She hadn't really planned on leaving the Riley home so early on Christmas day but she was just so tired and she wanted to get the house ready for if Simon got back. She’d spent the time cleaning and now it was night as she stood in the living room and folded the clean clothes. She wanted him to come back to a nice home and she’d admit to letting chores go by the wayside a little when he wasn't around just because she missed him so much. 

She was grateful that she was working again these days because if she was stuck at home all day every day thinking about how much she missed him, she’d climb the walls. She’d managed to get herself a job at an alternative clothing brand company, designing patterns for the clothes. Some days she’d go into work where she had a little office all to herself and she liked her coworkers. They even had her model for them a few times with the clothes for the website, saying she had the perfect look for them. Simon had been stupidly proud about it, it was cute. 

She’d roped him in one time to model some of the menswear and it was funny looking at him in such goth aesthetic clothing. She’d found it hot but he’d refused to do it again after all her coworkers had fussed all over him. She hadn't blamed them. 

Perks of working there were heavily discounted clothes and she loved all of her wardrobe now, even got some jumpers for Simon. She wasn't sure what it was about her husband and jumpers but she just thought they were insanely attractive on him. 

Her hands stilled when she heard something outside and she eyed the window. She couldn’t see through it where she was because of how dark it was outside so she continued to fold up the pants in her hands before putting them in the pile. Then she moved to the window, peeking around the curtain so she didn't look so nosey as she tried to figure out what the noise was. No one was there and she shook her head perplexed before shrugging to herself. Maybe it was the neighbour's cat, the thing loved to be annoying in their front garden. 

She made her way back to the laundry having no idea that in just a few hours she’d be given the news that her entire family was dead, that she would be handed her husband's tags as they told her he too was in the fire. She had no idea that in just a few hours her whole world would crash down around her. 

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Five)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: There’s only two more chapters left of Act One after this one and the ending is pretty painful so hopefully you’ll enjoy that. I’m so excited to close out this arc and get to the real meat of it all >:)

It had been almost two years that Charlotte and Simon had gotten married and moved on base together and to Charlotte, it somehow felt like it had flown by and also dragged at the same time. Luckily Simon hadn’t been deployed yet but she knew it would be coming, almost like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was anxious about it. It had been nice to spend so much time with him, living on base meant he didn't have to get up as early and was home right after finishing. 

She was trying her hardest to enjoy it, trying her hardest to like it, but after almost two whole years of it, it was thoroughly wearing her down. She hated it. Spending more time with Simon was the only good thing about living on base and she was finding it harder and harder to find the silver lining the more time wore on. Especially as lately he’d been working more and she hadn't been seeing him as much as she’d like.

She’d tried to fit in among the other spouses here, she really had tried, but they’d been nothing but rude to her, making her feel stupid and it had taken her right back to her highschool days where no one wanted anything to do with the outcast. She missed home, she missed Manchester where she could hop on a bus and go and see Beth and little Jo, go and listen to Tommy tell bad jokes or go and help Anne in her garden or visit her for a brew. 

She was so depressed that she hadn't even done anything in their own tiny garden they had on base. She just couldn't bring herself to settle down here fully, to take root. Almost as if she didn't want to stay here, because in reality, she didn't. 

It was getting to her, eating her alive as each day passed with more and more isolation being added to her. She wanted Simon to notice like he noticed everything about her, but he’d been run ragged in his new position and he’d been so tired all the time that he didn't notice how she was crumbling and she couldn't bring herself to say anything.

What would it achieve? There was no way she was moving back home without him and it was unfair of her to ask him to move hours away and make his life harder than it already was. There was no solution to this other than putting up with it and suffering in silence. 

The fact she was on her period really wasn't helping her emotions though and she felt like a raw and exposed nerve, especially after another terrible day. She'd tried as a last resort to connect with the wife next door, tried her hardest one last time to see if there was anything she could do. She’d spent all morning baking various things, all Anne’s recipes, and taken them over. 

The woman, called Louisa, had looked at Charlotte like she was a stain on the floor, told her she didn't eat desserts and promptly slammed the door in her face. Charlotte had stood on the porch with burning cheeks, humiliation making tears prick at her eyes. She didn't know why they hated her so much, why she could never fit in. It was all too much for her. 

She’d scrubbed the house clean in a desperate attempt of feeling better and it did nothing to help her and now the house smelt like bleach. She didn't have it in her to cook a meal, something she’d been doing every week night for Simon for when he got done with work. He cooked on the weekends. They had some microwave meals in, those would have to do. With nothing else to do, she sat herself at the dining table with a glass of red wine, the bottle on the table in front of her. 

His boots scuffed the ground as his feet dragged a little, completely exhausted from all the training he’d been doing that day. He really couldn't wait to just get in and relax, couldn't wait to be with Lottie. He pushed the door open and instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up. It was quiet, too quiet, the house almost silent and it was eerie. 

Usually, he’d come home to the sound of Lottie’s music, to her humming away as she cooked food. It was never like this. It made an uncomfortable feeling settle deep in the pit of his stomach as he moved further into the house that smelt so much like bleach, he was questioning if he’d walked into the infirmary by accident. 

He found her then, sitting at the table. Bottle of wine on the table, glass of the stuff in her hand as she took a long gulp of it. Something was off, something was making his muscles tense up in preparation for something and he really didn't like it.

“Alright, love?” he asked in a soft voice, his feet slowly approaching her.

“Fine,” she replied but she didn't look at him, didn't give him that pretty smile he was so used to getting when he got home. She looked utterly… depressed and that worried the shit out of him. He wasn't quite sure what to say, needing to know what was wrong so he could fix it but worrying about the strange mood she seemed to be in. He didn't want to push her away.

“Didn't feel like making food… gonna have to have the currys from the freezer,” she muttered before bringing the glass back to her lips and finishing it off. He nodded, swallowing thickly as his hands twitched with the urge to reach out and touch her.

“That's alright, sweetheart. I’ll get ‘em on, yeah?” his voice was still soft, hopefully soothing to her as he moved to the freezer. 

His heart and his brain were going a mile a minute as he tried to figure out how to navigate the choppy water he found himself in. Had he done something? He didn't think he had but he couldn't be sure. Something must have happened while he was working because she was fine this morning. His brain continued to barrage him with thoughts as he pulled out the curry and rice, popping them into the microwave. The silent house was now filled with the sound of the microwave whirring. 

He stood leaning against the counter, arms folded over his chest as he watched her with eagle eyes, trying to figure out what had happened. She stood up, moving to put the glass in the sink and putting the bottle on the side of the counter.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked carefully, dark eyes still glued to her. She hadn't looked at him once yet and that was the most concerning thing to him. She tensed up, staring at the wine bottle before she shrugged.

“Nothing to talk about,” she replied in such a despondent tone that it made his heart clench. His arms dropped then, a deep frown tugging at his brows as he stepped closer to her. 

“Don’t bullshit me, love. Somethin’ must have happened,” he insisted. He wasn't going to let her mope like this, he needed to make her feel better, he needed to know she was okay.

“Nothing’s happened,” she bit out, sounding irritated with him and he couldn't remember her ever using that tone with him before.

“Just talk to me, Lottie. I’m your husband, it's what I’m here for. If somethin’s happened I need to know,” he begged, hating seeing her like this. 

“I just told you, nothing’s happened!” she said exasperatedly and as she finally looked at him, the glare in her eyes startled him.

“Well, sorry for not believin’ you when you’ve got a face like a smacked arse,” he grouched, getting annoyed. Not necessarily at her but moreso the fact he had no idea what the fuck was going on and she was refusing to let him in.

“A smacked arse? Really?” she scoffed, anger flashing behind those pretty blue eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling a deep breath as he tried to quell his irritation. It really wouldn't help anything.

“You're clearly miserable, Charlotte. Somethin’ must have happened ‘cause you were fine this mornin’ and I wanna know what the fuck it is,” he muttered tensely and he didn’t like how she looked away quickly, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Just fuckin’ tell me, love!” he pleaded, “How the fuck am I supposed to fix it if you don’t tell me what it is? Is it me? Did I do somethin’ to upset you, ‘cause if I did, then I’m fuckin’ sorry-” 

“I hate it here!” she blurted, cutting off his desperate rambles and his whole body ran cold, stilling like a corpse in the middle of the room. Her eyes had gone wide, telling him she hadn’t meant to admit that to him and he blinked at her slowly, confusion and dread seizing his limbs.

“What?” he asked carefully, watching as she looked away from him.

“Nothing,” she muttered quickly before trying to rush past him to the bedroom. He grabbed her wrist and twirled her around, staring down at her wide eyes.

“It’s not nothin’, love. Fuckin’ tell me, don’t shut me out!” he demanded, annoyed with this whole situation. How could he fix anything if she wouldn't even speak to him? He saw how her eyes turned glassy, how her lower lip wobbled and his stomach dropped, his hand letting her go.

“I hate it here. I feel so… isolated. All the other spouses treat me like an idiot, like I’m not good enough for their little group no matter how hard I try and I can’t just go see Beth when I want, ‘cause that's four hours of the day gone by train if I do. You're always busy and I have no one and I just feel so alone,” she rushed out with pitiful tears. 

He felt sick. Her words had started a feeling in him he couldn't quite place. One similar to when one was given news of a loved one passing. It was an overwhelming grief that had hit him like a truck and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn't find his voice through the lump wedged deep there. 

Alone . He’d failed her. He’d done the one thing he’d vowed never to do, to make her feel alone. It felt like the world didn't make sense anymore, it felt like he didn't know where he was or who he was and nothing was right.  Everything was wrong and he was floating, adrift at sea with no life raft. 

“Why didn't you say anythin’?” he lamented and he barely even registered how his voice had wavered through the ringing in his ears. Her brows furrowed as she wiped furiously at her eyes and he knew her well enough to know she was beating herself up at admitting it at all.

“Because I love you. I love you and living with you and getting to spend time with you. I didn't want to say anything because there isn't an alternative so I just… get on with it. It's just been really hard lately and I’m on my period, I’m sorry. I should have dealt with it better, it’s not like I’m not used to it.” Those words hurt him far more than she realised and he had to blink rapidly to conceal the tears that were stinging his eyes.

“You shouldn't have to be used to it,” he choked out. How had he failed her this badly? She was fucking suffering here and doing it all because of him, because she fucking loved him. And he hadn't noticed, he hadn't noticed how she was drowning here, right under his own nose.

“Simon… it’s fine really, I shouldn't have said anything,” she frowned, her face looking contrite like she’d done something wrong. His heart lurched before he spun around, stomping his way to the front door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, a tinge of panic in her voice like she thought he was about to fuck off and leave her forever. As if he ever would. He turned around, that lost look still on his face as he tried to comprehend just where he’d gone so wrong.

“To fix it… I need to… I’ll fix it,” he muttered firmly, spinning on his heel before he slipped out of the door. 

He couldn’t breathe, actually couldn’t fucking breathe and he moved around the side of the house before he dropped to a crouch. He braced his hands on the back of his head which he lowered, much like when you readied yourself for impact on a fucking plane. He tried to suck in deep breaths, tried to tell himself to get a fucking grip ‘cause he had shit he needed to sort. He didn't have time for pathetic panic attacks because he realised he was the worst husband in the world. It took him a good moment to pull himself together before he could breathe again, before the ringing in his ears stopped, before his vision stopped swimming. 

He leaned his head back against the bricks of their house. Her prison. He made himself sick. How devastating it had been, to see her so heartbroken and be the cause. What an utterly selfish bastard he’d been to her, to pluck her out of her comfortable and happy life where she had a real friend for once in her life and a family that loved her, just to covet all of her time and keep her here with him. To make her alone. 

He’d isolated her, even if he hadn't meant it that way. To know he’d failed her in the worst way, to know he'd caused her such emotional turmoil absolutely ruined him. He couldn't do it. He’d never willingly hurt her even for a second, she didn't deserve to be treated that way. Part of him knew he should go back in and comfort her but he hadn’t been able to deal with his panic and now the only thing he could focus on was fixing his fucking mistake before it was too late. Before he hurt her in a way she wouldn't be able to overlook, before she left him all alone. He left the base with a goal in mind and anyone that stood in his way would be absolutely sorry. He’d make up for what he’d done and give his wife the life she fucking deserved.

By the time he got back, he was well and truly knackered. It was almost 2 am and he felt the exhaustion down to his bones. It had taken him some time to sort it all out, even wound up enlisting Tommy’s help who was more than happy to spare his time. It was done now and he was finally back. As he entered the quiet house, he felt guilt gnawing at him for not staying and comforting Charlotte. He knew deep down he should have stayed and at least gave her a cuddle but knowing how badly he’d fucked up had made a complete mess of his head. 

He tugged his boots off, leaving them by the door before he trudged up the stairs, trying to be quiet as not to wake her. When he finally got to their room, she was sleeping on her side, her chest rising and falling slowly. It soothed something in him at seeing her peacefully asleep and he tried to will that pesky guilt away as he rid himself of his clothes until he was only in his boxers. 

He slipped into bed behind her, wrapping one arm around her middle, hand splayed on her belly while the other slid under the pillow and snaked around her.

“Simon?” she asked groggily. He’d hoped not to wake her but he really just needed to hold her if he was honest. He was a selfish man. 

“I’m here, love. It’s alright,” he whispered, kissing the side of her head gently. She shuffled back, pressing herself more against him before she relaxed again, one of her hands coming to rest over his on her stomach.

“Where did you go?” she asked sleepily and he held her tighter, relishing her soft warmth.

“We’ll talk about it in the mornin’, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, yeah?” he kept his voice low and it worked as she nodded, falling back to sleep not too long after. He was glad that she wasn't more awake or he’d have to tell her now. 

It took him a bit longer to go to sleep, still keyed up from the beating his heart had taken. Still nervous for the next day, to see if his offering was a good enough apology for failing her so badly.

The next morning he was up before her, dressed and cooking pancakes in the kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd felt so out of sorts when it came to Lottie, not since they were married now, he felt like they should have been past the nerves. Just as he predicted, as he plated up she emerged, coming down the stairs in just one of his t-shirts. She had an uncanny knack for just knowing when he was cooking her breakfast and when he was plating up.

“Mornin’, love,” he murmured, settling the plates on the dining table.

“You're off work?” she asked softly, looking hesitant and out of place as she hovered near the table but didn't sit down. She looked like a dog that got caught pissing on the carpet and he didn't like it. He didn't like her thinking she was in the wrong for this.

“Took some paid leave, got a week off,” he replied, giving her a warm smile as he walked over to her. 

Her blue eyes were wide, slightly sad as she gazed up at him, arms crossed over her chest like she was trying to hide herself away. He cupped her cheeks, thumbs stroking them as he blinked down at her. 

“I love you,” he whispered and a tiny smile graced her melancholy face.

“I love you too… and I’m sorry, about yesterday, I-” she started with a frown.

“Don’t… Please. It wasn't your fault, love, you don't need to apologise. I’m sorry. I shoulda seen how hard things were for you,” he implored but it only made her frown deepen and his hands fell from her face as she shook her head.

“You shouldn't be sorry, you're not a mind reader. I’ll be fine anyway, I shouldn't be acting like an ungrateful brat. I think it’s just my period,” she shrugged, looking super uncomfortable. He’s been married to her long enough now to know it was pointless to keep arguing with her, she wouldn't accept the fact she wasn’t in the wrong. He didn't need her getting more upset before he took her to the surprise so he just guided her to the dining chair and urged her to sit down.

Breakfast was somewhat uncomfortable, the lingering tension from the day before still looming over them. It took an immense amount of effort to bite his fucking tongue and not keep apologising for letting her down so badly. It somehow felt worse that she didn't even see it that way, blaming herself as usual. 

She didn't even seem curious or excited when he asked her to get dressed because he wanted to take her somewhere. He wondered just how long this had been bothering her for, wondered what the hell had gone on with the other spouses that had her feeling like the black sheep. He wanted to ask but he was scared of the answer. Scared of finding out she’d been suffering so badly right in front of him this whole time. 

He’d seen her upset a few times, seen her pissed at him mildly over the years but nothing too bad even when he deserved it, but the strange sadness she was wrapped up in now was fucking awful and he hated it. He wanted to make it better but knew no words would help so he kept his mouth shut as they were in the taxi on the way to his mum’s. He reached out to take her hand and she took it, clinging onto it even though she didn't look at him. He didn't think he’d ever seen her this withdrawn before. 

“Here’ll do,” he murmured to the taxi driver. The man glanced through the rearview mirror with a nod before pulling up on the curb and he felt Lottie’s confused gaze burning the side of his face. He paid the fare and they both shuffled out.

“Why didn’t we get out at your mum's?” she asked softly, eyeing him and then down the street where his mum's house was. It was eight houses down the road.

“We’re not goin’ to mums,” he supplied vaguely and she followed him obediently as he walked into a front garden of a house

“Where are we going then? Whose house is-” she asked, her words cutting off abruptly when he pulled keys from his pants pocket and shoved them in the door. He pushed it open, stepping inside and looking at her to come in. She blinked dumbly at him for a long moment before she walked inside, blue eyes warily taking in the space. 

The living area, dining room and kitchen were all open plan, the kitchen separated slightly by an island. Honestly, it was a really nice house. He hadn’t consciously planned to go house hunting for one so close to his mum but the opportunity arose and he couldn't pass it up. 

When he'd turned up at his mum's the evening before, he’d been a mess . never had he allowed anyone, much let his family see him in such a vulnerable state before. It had taken ten whole minutes and a brew to calm him down enough to where he could tell her how badly he fucked up. When he told her he wanted to buy a house in Manchester, she’d told him a couple she knew down the road were selling up. Forgoing the estate agents meant he didn't have to wait and he paid the couple extra money to have it right away. They were already living in their new house so it hadn't been too hard for them to get the house ready and hand the keys over as he paid them.

He’d roped Tommy in to help him go to Ikea and get all the essentials. It wasn’t finished, it was a bit far fetched to expect to buy a house and fucking fully furnish it in less than a day but he thought they’d done a pretty fucking good job of it. It was a home and when Lottie decorated it and put all her little touches on it, he knew they’d both love it. It was just an added bonus that it was so close to his mum’s and also wasn't too far from Tommy and Beth. She’d be surrounded by family now, she wouldn't be alone. 

“Simon… what is this”? She asked carefully, those big blue eyes watching him apprehensively. 

“A house, sweetheart,” he replied with a slight upturn of his lips but she didn't smile at him. In fact, her eyes narrowed instead. 

“You know what I mean. Why do you have keys to a house?” she asked him exasperated.

“‘Cause I bought it for us,” he said simply and he watched her eyes widen.

“You… you bought a house? But it's… Si…” she struggled getting her words out and she had a mortified look on her face that made his stomach drop, fearing he’d made a mistake.

“You said you hated it on base, I just… I wanted to fix it,” his throat felt tight as he realised he’d messed up yet again. He’d thought he was a good husband, thought he was doing alright with the whole thing surprisingly and now it felt like it was all falling apart. She blinked rapidly and it only made his chest ache at how hard she was staving off tears.

“I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be away from you. I don't want to only see you on the weekends,” she lamented and it took him a moment to realise just why she was upset and it made him relax.

“Love… I’m plannin’ on livin’ here with you,” he murmured, stepping over to her and taking one of her hands. 

“I couldn't ask you to do that, it's two hours away. You’d have to get up even earlier than you already do and you'll be dead on your feet by the time you get home,” she frowned up at him. 

“I don’t mind, I want this,” he meant his words wholeheartedly. He knew he’d be spreading himself a little thin but it was worth it to him.

“I don't want you sacrificing so much just because I’m whining over nothing,” she argued with shiny eyes.

“It’s not nothin’, Lottie. You shouldn't have to be stuck in a place you don't wanna be. I want you to be happy, that's the most important thing to me. Not the army, not the SAS, not anythin’ else. Makin’ you happy is my only job that I care about,” he implored. 

With how much she hated being a burden and was therefore unlikely to talk about things when she was unhappy, he wondered how long it would have taken before she upped and left him if she hadn't had her outburst the day before. The idea of making her so miserable that she left him made his chest itch uncomfortably. 

“I want you to be happy too,” she whispered with furrowed brows. He leaned down, kissing her frown away as he cupped the back of her head.

“You make me happy. Besides, I like it here. Right close to mum, big garden to grow shit in. It's a nice house and it's fully ours now,” he pressed his lips to hers before she could protest any more and she melted into him, fisting the front of his top. When he pulled away, he brushed the top of his nose against hers and she smiled softly. 

“You really don't mind?” she asked.

“Don’t mind at all. Now, you want a tour of the place? Bet you’ll love the garden, it's even got a tree,” he grinned and her face lit up like a kid on Christmas, making the ache in his chest dissipate into the wind and be replaced with a fond warmness. 

Getting up a couple of hours earlier in the morning and coming home a little later at night was something he was willing to do to have this life with her. He refused to be away from her all week and like fuck he was forcing her to live on base if she hated it. She’d told him she wanted him to be happy too but this was what his happiness looked like. It looked like her radiance as she gushed over the pretty tree in the back garden and babbled about what things she was planning to plant, pointing out all the areas with good sun. As long as she was happy then he was happy, that was all that mattered to him.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Four)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: The wedding is here!!!!

Thank you once again to everyone showing love to this story. It’s nowhere near done but my brain is getting antsy. I have like a billion Ghost stories I wanna write, some I've started already, some mere ideas in my pesky brain. I’d love to hear which ones you guys are most interested in first. I can’t list all of my ideas here because it would take too long but some of the ones I’m doing are;

-Ghost/OC/Soap story. MC is on the task force.

-I don’t wanna call it an alpha/omega story because the MC is human, but it's kinda along those lines with mates and stuff. But it falls into obsessive Ghost and reluctant (at first) MC. If you think this Ghost is pussy whipped for Lottie then… lmao just wait and see bby.

-a sunshine/grumpy trope story. Ghost absolutely wants nothing to do with her but she's so cute and ridiculous and happy and she worms her way in anyway >:)

-mediaeval ish story. MC is the princess, Ghost is a knight.  

-an actual alpha/omega story. Our poor little omega is traumatised and Ghostie takes care of her.

-Zombie AU story. Deals with some pretty dark and depressing shit.

I have more ideas but those are the ones pinging around my brain the most and some I’ve already started. Don’t be shy to let me know.

The wedding dress and the lingerie for reference.

I actually managed to pick a song that wasn’t the usual bands lmao My brain allowed it because good ol’ Greg here is the singer from The Dillinger Escape plan, who I believe our Ghostie listens to lololol

Greg Puciato - Heaven of Stone

In the earth below with

Nowhere else to go

I know that we'll belong

Set free from all the wrongs

In eternal gardens

Fallen flowers grow

I've held you all along

In heavens made of stone

‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ Simon tried to remember who said that, if he remembered right, it was Aristotle. Made sense though, didn’t it? Maybe that's why he’d spent most of his life miserable, feeling cold and empty like a haunted house. Maybe that was why he always felt like something was missing. He’d been only half of a soul, floating around like a wraith, trying to find his other half. Now he’d found her, had her stumble right into his life and now he knew he could never look back. He felt whole, he felt complete, he felt like everything was right and the world made sense.

Despite these feelings, he was greedily sucking nicotine from a smoke, his second in  less than fifteen minutes, as he sat perched on the wall outside of the courthouse. To say he was feeling nervous would have been a gross understatement. He wasn't having cold feet, in fact Tommy had been stunned by the lack of cold feet he’d shown all morning. He’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. But he was nervous for a lot of other things, the variables in this scenario, the things beyond his control. Just as he hated that bullshit out on the battlefield, he hated it in his personal life. He loved to be in control, it meant he was less likely to get hurt, a feeling he’d been subjected to far too much as a child. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again. 

What if she was the one having cold feet? What if she decided she didn't want to marry a tosser like him? What if she decided she didn't want marriage at all? What if she decided she was bored of him and that she didn't want to be with him full stop? What if she didn't turn up? What if he went home and all her stuff was gone? What if, what if, what if? Too many thoughts, too many feelings and he was trying to calm himself down by chain smoking. 

“You're gonna get lung cancer before she even gets here at this rate,” Tommy huffed from next to him, snatching the pack of smokes out of his hand and pocketing them. Simon glared at him, stubbing out the end of his cig before flicking it into the bin not too far away. 

“I’m fine,” he grouched and Tommy eyed his leg that was anxiously bouncing before raising a smug brow at him. “Fuck off,” he huffed and Tommy snorted.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Si,” he murmured and Simon ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Lottie would be here soon and he wished she’d just turn up early, to see if she would in fact turn up or if his life was about to quickly go down the shitter. 

“What if she doesn't turn up?” he asked, his voice so quiet with the shame of his admission. Tommy glanced at him, a sympathetic smile on his face as he clapped Simon on the back.

“She will turn up,” his simple answer just annoyed him and he heaved a sigh, glaring at him. “She thinks the world of you, Simon, anyone with eyes can see that. She’ll turn up. If anything, she’s probably panicking just as much as you right now. Probably convinced herself you won't be here,” Tommy said quietly and Simon knew he wasn't wrong. He knew his girl so well and she was probably working herself into an even bigger tizzy than he was. He just hated this anxiety, hated being away from her like this. He knew she loved him, his nerves were just getting the best of him. 

Tommy’s phone dinged and he glanced at it, grinning before he stood up.

“Come on, arse wipe, up you get. They’re on their way,” he beamed at him. 

Relief flooded his system then, knowing she was coming after all, Beth and his mum in tow after helping her get ready. He wondered just what she’d look like walking down the small aisle of the courthouse. 

He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, just a simple black and white suit that he’d worn to Tommy’s wedding. He’d contemplated getting something fancier, something just for this occasion, but Charlotte had told him to do what he wanted, whatever was comfortable for him so this is what he chose. He wasnt much of a suit person to begin with and he didn’t want to waste money on something that made him so fucking uncomfortable. He felt he scrubbed up decent enough anyway. 

He followed his baby brother into the courthouse to await his bride and his stomach felt like there were a million roaches inside, all squirming around trying to get out. He felt sick, breathing slowly so he didn’t fucking pass out and make a right knob of himself while he waited at the end of the aisle. The officiant was an older man, a kind face who had been nothing but nice and polite to the boys since they arrived. They all stood waiting for the girls to arrive. 

There wouldn't be music, the wedding march or anything of the like as she walked in. They could have requested it but she’d said no. He'd been a little surprised that she wanted a bare bones wedding like this but he hadn’t minded at all. He tended to agree with her though, weddings were shite. He just wanted to marry her. 

He heard the door start to open and he stood taller, as if standing to attention in front of his commanding officer. As the doors fully opened, he felt like all the breath got stolen from his lungs. The feeling was so reminiscent of when they first met and he never would have thought back then that he’d wind up making her his wife. 

She was an absolute vision and his throat constricted painfully as he couldn't stop staring at her, eyes unblinking, not wanting to miss anything. The dress suited her perfectly, the lace as delicate as she was and he felt his eyes prickling with unshed tears as the emotion overflowed inside of him. His mum was linking arms with her, giving her away as she had no parents of her own. He remembered how hard Lottie had cried when his mum had offered, remembered how he himself had cried no matter how embarrassing it might have been. 

Beth was behind them, holding the train of the dress in one hand, the other arm having an almost one year old Joseph perched on her hip. He was wearing fucking suit and everything. Little man looked proper dapper. 

His mum led Charlotte to him and his girl was staring at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile. After a pat to the arm off his teary mum, she sat down with Tommy, Beth and little Jo following along. He couldn't take his eyes off Lottie though as they stared at each other. Her brown waves were up in some braided updo thing, a few waves framing her face. She was perfect.

“You look like an angel, love,” he whispered reverently, his voice thick with emotion as he grasped her hands. She blushed, that pink looking so pretty on her face as she smiled shyly. Always acted like he was complimenting her for the first time. He never tired of making her blush, he loved that he could still have that effect on her. 

“You look so handsome, Si,” she murmured, making those moon eyes at him as if he’d hung the moon himself. Fuck, he wished he did. He’d do anything she asked of him no matter how impossible the task. 

He wanted to keep going on about how beautiful she was, wanted to kiss the gloss of her perfect lips, wanted to do a lot of things, but then the officiant started speaking.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Charlotte and Simon in marriage. This ceremony marks the beginning of their journey together as husband and wife,” he started and Simon felt the anticipation thrumming through his entire being. His eyes were still glued to his girl, even when he heard his mothers sniffle from her seat. 

“Charlotte and Simon, today you come before us to express your love and commitment to one another. Before we proceed, do you both affirm that it is your intention to enter into this marriage willingly and with full understanding of its significance?” he asked and Charlotte smiled up at Simon in a way that rendered his heart to mush.

"We do," they both answered and it made his lips tug up as he squeezed her soft hands gently.

“Excellent. Charlotte and Simon, marriage is a sacred bond, a union founded on love, respect, and mutual trust. It is a promise to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges. It is a commitment to support and uplift one another, to cherish and nurture your relationship each and every day. Now, Charlotte, please share your vows with Simon,” the officiant said with a warm smile. 

He could tell she was nervous, felt her hands trembling against his own. He expected her to pull out a piece of paper with her vows on, like his own that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Vows he’d agonised over and rewrote a billion and one times because no words could ever be able to sum up what he wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to need to read her vows though, apparently she had it all stored in her head.

“Simon… from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we've shared together. You’ve changed me as a person, for the better. Made me see I’m worthy of being loved. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me but I’d love to spend the rest of our lives trying,” she started with a wobbly voice and shiny eyes. His chest felt heavy, like a weight bearing down on him as he suppressed the urge to cry like a right mard arse. He gave her a watery smile and she gripped his hands tighter. 

“I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to be your partner in all things. I vow to listen to you with an open heart, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I choose you today and every day for the rest of our lives,” she murmured earnestly and he had to blink rapidly to quell the onslaught of tears threatening to break through. 

“Thank you, Charlotte. Now, Simon, please share your vows with Charlotte,” the officiant smiled. 

Simon swallowed thickly, one of his hands leaving Lottie’s so he could retrieve the little piece of paper in his breast pocket with a trembling hand. His breathing was shaky and he tried to calm himself, didn't want his voice to crack.

“Charlotte, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with…” he hated how close to tears he sounded, how the lump in his throat got bigger with each word leaving his mouth. Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, bringing the hand she still held up to her mouth and placing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my best friend, my confidante, and my soulmate. Today, in front of our family, I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in all your dreams and endeavours, and to always be there for you. I promise to cherish you, to respect you, and to honour you for the incredible person you are. I’m so grateful to call you my partner, and I vow to spend the rest of my days makin’ you happy,” he choked out, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before wiping his eyes quickly. The officiant looked at Tommy then and he hopped up, fishing around in his pocket before grabbing the two rings, handing them to both he and Lottie. “As Charlotte and Simon exchange these rings, they are symbolising the commitment and love they have pledged to one another. These rings are more than mere adornments; they are a visible representation of the promises and vows made here today. Charlotte, as you place this ring on Simon's finger, may it serve as a constant reminder of your love, loyalty, and devotion. Let it be a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share and a promise of your commitment to him,” the officiant said, gesturing to Charlotte and she smiled up at Simon, a heart melting smile before she slid the ring on his finger with the utmost care.

“Simon, as you place this ring on Charlotte's finger, may it be a symbol of your eternal love and unwavering dedication. Let it be a reminder of the promises you've made and a testament to the love that will continue to grow between you,” Simon’s thumb brushed over her finger before he slid the ring on, giving her hand a squeeze as he gazed down at her adoringly. 

“May these rings forever signify the love and unity you share as husband and wife. With this exchange, your lives are forever intertwined, and your journey together as partners begins anew. And now, by the power vested in me by the City of Manchester, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Simon wasted no time, gripping either side of Lottie’s face and leaning down, capturing her lips quickly. He’d wanted to do nothing but kiss her since she’d turned up. He kept it tame, he did have an audience after all, he he tried he pour all of his love, all of his emotion into the kiss. When he pulled away, her cheeks were aflame, amusement dancing behind her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him.

“I love you,” she murmured and he felt himself melting all over again.

“I love you too… Mrs Riley,” he smirked and her smile widened.

They stayed a little longer to sign all the forms to actually be married before they all left the courthouse. Not before his mother had clung to him, weeping into his chest at how proud she was, how fucking happy he was for him. Made his heart feel like it had grown three sizes seeing his poor mum like that about him. 

Much to Tommy’s chagrin, there wouldn't be a reception. Charlotte hadn't really wanted one and if he was honest, neither did he. All he could think about as he looked at his new wife in that dress was wanting to get her home and getting inside of her. Before they left, his mum was adamant on getting some pictures that she could print off so they’d posed for her outside of the courthouse and he didn't think he’d ever had a picture taken of him smiling quite like this.

They’d gotten congratulations from the taxi driver on their way home after parting ways with his family and Simon felt his chest puff with pride that Lottie was now his wife. His other half. She was fully his and he felt like he was on top of the world. She seemed so happy, smiling and giggling as he told her shitty jokes on the way home, clutching his arm as they made their way inside and into the lift. 

As they walked down the hallway of their apartment, he scooped her up bridal style, making her squeal before she started laughing, gripping around his neck as if she thought he’d drop her. As if he ever would. He was smiling so fucking hard his cheeks hurt and he was sure he probably looked fucking psychotic at this point. He couldn't help it though, he’d never felt happiness quite like this, never thought he would. Hadn’t thought he deserved it. Yet here she was, beautiful and sweet Charlotte, giving him every drop of love she had in her entire being and he wouldn't waste a single bit of it. 

He carried her through the threshold, gently placing her on her feet as they got indoors and he shut the door behind her. His eyes turned hungry then as he gazed at her, eyes trailing over her in that fucking dress, looking like some angel sent from heaven to tempt him. 

He stepped towards her and the look in his eyes had her stepping back until her back hit the door, lips parted, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at him. He rested his hands either side of her on the door, caging her in, knowing she loved his size and loved feeling helpless around him, little minx she was. 

He trailed his nose along her delicate throat with a hum and she let out a soft noise that had his hard dick aching in his pants. He placed a wet and open mouthed kiss on her pulse point, making her moan quietly before he leaned back up to look at her with his blazing eyes. 

“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” he purred and she smiled, a delighted flash glinting in her eyes. 

“Be careful of the dress, it's a rental,” she smirked, making him snort softly.

“That’s a shame, wanted to fuck you in it,” he muttered wickedly, loving how she swallowed thickly, squirming where she stood. 

“I have something better… you should take the dress off,” she murmured, looking at him all coy like and batting her lashes. 

He was intrigued and horny so he did what he was told like a good husband, moving his hands from the door to around her waist. She gasped as he pulled her flush to his chest, her hands splaying on him as she blinked up at him. His large hand slid around to her back, finding the zip and unzipping it slowly, slow enough to make her shift impatiently. 

Once the zip was completely down, his hands trailed in a featherlight touch up to her shoulders, pulling down the dainty straps there. He tugged the dress down, revealing lingerie he hadn't expected underneath. His movements became a little faster now, pulling the dress until it pooled around her ankles and he let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening. 

“You dress up for me, angel?” he asked in a mere whisper and her blush swept up her chest to her face as she nodded shyly. What a fucking sight she was like this, white lingerie with delicate straps and flowers adorning her. She’d been right, it was better than the wedding dress. His hands slid up her hips to her waist and he leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Charlotte,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and feeling her smile against him.

“You like it?” she asked almost meekly and maybe it shouldn't have made his dick even harder, but it did.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he replied breathlessly. 

He trailed hot and wet kisses from her mouth, down her jaw and to her neck, lavishing it with attention, just how she liked it. She let out a breathy moan and he groaned in response, pulling her closer to him as his hands slid around to her arse. It was then he realised the lingerie was a thong and her perfect arse cheeks were on display for him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gave them a firm squeeze, and she moaned a little louder this time. 

“On the bed, love,” he ordered, pulling himself away from her painfully. He needed to get out of his fucking clothes so he could have his way with her before his dick fell off. She flashed him a pretty smile before they both made their way to the bedroom and she sauntered over to the bed. He watched her lay on her side, watching him with rapt attention as he started to undress. His lips tugged into a smirk at her blatant ogling so he made sure to take his time as he unbuttoned his shirt before peeling it off, his pants soon to follow. 

Once he was finally free of his constraints, he made a beeline for the bed and Charlotte rolled onto her back waiting for him. He climbed on, parting her thighs and groaning in delight at the view of her soaked cunt behind the sheer white material. 

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me already like a good little wife,” he drawled and he didn't miss how her breathing hitched at his words. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched him keenly and he slid his hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, loving how soft her skin was. He could feel her shaking with anticipation, his cock twitching at how she arched her back, trying to get closer to him. 

He couldn't tear his eyes off her, he loved her so much it felt like it caused him physical pain sometimes. He leaned down, kissing every morsel of skin he could that poked out of her body suit, worshipping her body like the goddess she was. Fucking hell, he’d give his life to her, devote everything he had in him to her. 

She was writhing under his touch, at every flutter of his lips against her skin, every brush of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was reverent with every touch as he made his way up her body, paying extra attention to her neck and getting a lovely moan from her. 

His lips finally claimed hers and she was so desperate for him that he felt like he might spill his load without being touched. How had he gotten so lucky? What on earth had he done to deserve such a beauty in his life that was the radiance she exuded? She was absolutely everything to him, the beginning and the end, completing him like the puzzle piece he’d spent his life searching for. 

“What?” she asked shyly and he realised then he’d stopped kissing her and was just looking at her with those soft eyes he had, only for her. He felt heat bloom high on his cheeks, in the top of his ears and she noticed because she smiled warmly at him, her fingers caressing the back of his neck lovingly. 

“I just… I love you. Never thought I’d have this,” he admitted quietly and her eyes softened, her smile widening. 

“I love you too,” she fluttered a pretty smile at him, pulling him back down and massaging her lips against his. 

He melted into her, his hand trailing down her body like some sacred object before it brushed her dripping cunt over her underwear. She gasped and he moaned, practically salivating over how needy her body was being. Part of him wanted to go all out, fuck her with his fingers, lick her pussy until she was a shaking mess, but he couldn’t. Seeing her in this pretty white lingerie, seeing her in that dress, seeing her with his ring on her finger, branding her as his… It was too much. He needed her so badly he was sure he’d die. 

He hooked his finger in the string of her underwear, dragging it from where it lay over her cunt and arse, pulling it to the side to sit in the crease of her thigh. He gripped his aching cock, rubbing against her soaked heat and she let out a needy noise that had his blood running hot. 

He sunk into her with a loud groan of relief, her own moan bleeding into his. He bottomed out deliciously and she had that pretty look on her face that told him he was filling her tight little cunt up to the brim, filling her up good. The hand beside her head was used for leverage, his other winding around her lower back to angle her better and keep her as close as possible before he started rutting into her. 

If he wasnt half gone with lust, he might have felt sorry for the neighbours as his pretty little wife started keening, clawing at his shoulders as he fucked the soul out of her, trying to claim it for his own. The legs of the bed squeaked, the headboard slamming into the wall and the room was full of obscene sounds. Their moans, the sound of their skin slapping together as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

He wanted to tell her she was his now, belonged to him in every way possible, wanted to tell her she wouldn't be leaving him ever, not if he had anything to do with it. He wanted to say a lot of things but his mouth could do little else but moan like a needy whore at the pleasure he felt. She was divine, being with her like this was a holy experience for him and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire. 

His lips crashed to hers and the kiss was messy, desperate as they both clawed and pawed at each other, chasing a release that felt higher than any other. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she tangled her tongue with his and he could feel the cold metal of her ring on his skin, a reminder of how she willingly gave herself over to him today. They were no longer separate souls, two halves separated into two bodies. They were joined in union, tied together forever. He’d follow her even after death if it came to it. 

He angled his hips just right, brushing that spot inside of her and pressing against her clit with his public bone and the noise she let out would make a porn star blush.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he moaned, struggling to hold into his sanity as her cunt fluttered around him 

“Don’t stop,” she choked out, her pale cheeks flushed red, irises nowhere in sight as her eyes were overtaken by her pupils. Her voice was pleading, bordering on desperate as she clung to him like she might float off the earth if she didn't. 

He didn't stop, he kept his brutal pace, sweat trickling down his temple with the effort it was taking to not fill her up, not yet. He felt the moment she came, felt her pussy grip him so tightly he was worried she’d cut off his blood supply. It felt like she was trying to suck him inside of her, trying to consume him and he’d let her. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan, guttural and primal as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside of her, over and over. He felt like he'd never cum that much in his life. 

They both lay there, panting and sweaty and he tried not to squash her as they came down from their highs. His lips found hers, the kiss tender, slow, loving. Her hand was on his cheek, soft and sweet and it made his chest feel tight. When he pulled away, she was radiant, glowing from the inside out as she blinked her pretty eyes at him. 

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she murmured and it made the tightness in his chest worse. 

He couldn't fathom being something someone wanted, that someone would be lucky to have him. But he knew she meant it, down to her fucking bones and god if it didn’t feel good. If it didn't make him feel like he could do anything when she looked at him so lovingly. He felt like he could take on the world. He was the lucky one and he knew that, to have such a loving partner, now wife, to have someone with so much love inside of her, all to himself. 

She’d raised herself, had been starved of love and basic human decency for most of her life and she’d turned out perfect. She’d raised herself and done it right and it made Simon feel like he could take on his own demons. If she could come out of the other side burning brighter than the sun, then so could he. 

They would chase each other's demons away, make the shadows crawl back to wherever they came from. She lit him up from the inside out and it made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was actually living and not just existing. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies and he refused to part from her now he found her.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Three)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: There’s not too many chapters left of Act One now (I’m so excited for the angst coming your way lmaooo). From here on out, the time skips are gonna get bigger. We’ve covered most of the important stuff at the start of their relationship and now it's going to start being big milestones and important things so you get a full overview of their relationship and stuff.

I’m glad I decided to write the story this way and give you guys a real feel of their relationship. When I started writing the story at Act Two, I really felt like the readers wouldn't get hurt as much so I knew I needed to get you all invested. I hope I achieved that with Act One. I had a lot of wobbles writing Act One, feeling like not much was going on with it, action or angst wise, but the whole point was to set up the real story. 

This chapter’s a little on the shorter side. I was originally going to skip right to the wedding in Simon’s POV but I felt like we needed to get some of Charlotte before then.

Engaged, Charlotte still couldn't quite wrap her head around it as the ring caught the sunlight through the window. She was curled around Simon on the couch, legs over his sideways as she snuggled against his arm. He was reading a book, something military related and it made her smile how much of a secret nerd he was when it came to that kind of stuff. He’d proposed only a couple of days ago and she felt like she was still in shock over it. She’d never experienced that amount of romance before, taking her to where they first met to pop the question. 

She was trying to make the most of his leave while he still had it, unsure about what would happen once he had to go to his new base, what that meant for them both. She’d been trying to pretend the issue didn't exist because she didn't want anything bursting the perfect little bubble she found herself in. 

“Have you got any thoughts on the wedding?” she asked tentatively. It had been something pinging around her brain, wondering what kind of wedding he might want. She had her own preference but she wasn't sure if he’d agree or not. He glanced up from his book, eyes trailing to her as he gave her a little smile.

“Not fussed, love. Whatever you want’s fine by me,” he murmured and she nibbled her lip as she nodded.

“I don’t… I don’t really like weddings,” she blurted and he blinked dumbly at her for a moment.

“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?” he asked, his tone wary as his deep brown eyes studied her face. She snorted, shaking her head and the motion made him relax infinitely.

“No, I mean… I like marriage but weddings are always so… tacky. It’s just a big party and a waste of money. And it's not like we have a lot of people to come, I don’t have anyone full stop,” she frowned, trying to ignore how disgustingly depressing that was. Simon rested a hand on her leg and she could tell he was about to try and reassure her but that wasn't what she needed right now.

“I was just thinking maybe we could have a courthouse wedding? We could still get dressed up, I really wanna do the whole wedding dress thing… But it doesn’t need to be over the top or anything,” she watched him carefully, not sure how he’d take her suggestion. The idea of planning some lavish wedding, only to have Tommy, Beth and Anne be the only guests was a little ridiculous.

“Makes sense,” he hummed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her leg, “A courthouse wedding is simple enough… could get married while I’m still on leave,” he suggested, raising a brow at her. A thrill rushed right through her veins at his suggestion and she couldn't help the smile curling on her lips. 

“You really wanna get married that quickly?” she asked him and he chuckled, tilting his head at her.

“Wanted to marry you before I fucked off for the SAS, love,” he smiled and it made her chest fill with warmth. 

“Best ring them then to see when they’ve got a slot,” she smirked and he grinned, his face so happy and full of love that she felt like she might just implode from looking at him.

An hour later and they managed to book a slot for the week after. It still felt so surreal to her that in a week she’d be a married woman, the idea made her head spin. The Riley’s had been over the moon to hear about it, just as excited as she was and she was glad no one seemed to mind her want for something small and simple. 

“I’ve been thinkin’...” Simon trailed off. It was tea time now and the pair were sitting at the table. She’d been messaging Beth all day back and forth as the girl sent her links to bridal websites to help her find a dress.

“About what?” she asked, munching some of the pizza. Simon had made it from scratch and to say she was impressed would be a huge understatement. His fingers drummed restlessly in a way that told Charlotte he was having a bout of anxiety and it made her own flare up, wondering what had him in a tizzy. 

“Once we’re married… we could move into a house on base,” he murmured, looking at her through his lashes. She took in his words for a moment and what he was trying to say.

“You want to move?” she asked carefully. His chest expanded, a large steadying breath going through him as he rolled his shoulders and tried to sit up better. He seemed worried almost and she frowned. 

“I just… I want a good life for us and… it’d be nice havin’ a real house and shit. A garden for you to grow your own veggies in like you’ve always wanted,” he explained slowly. She had always wanted to grow her own vegetables. “It’d be easier without having to travel two hours every mornin’ to get to work and then back home again. Means we’d get more time together,” he shrugged and while he was trying to look casual, she could tell he was anything but. He obviously really wanted this and was worried how she’d react. It was odd seeing him such an open book for once or maybe the ring had magical powers. She almost snorted to herself.

“We’d be further away from family,” she said gently, not wanting to put a downer on his plans but wanting to make sure he’d thought it all through.

“Only a train away, ain’t like we see ‘em every day anyway,” he countered.

“What about Cafe Metro?” she asked him and he swallowed thickly, looking away from a moment as he toyed with his own hands on the table. When he seemed to will some confidence in himself, he glanced back at her. 

“I… Do you enjoy workin’ there?” he asked hesitantly and she blinked slowly at him in thought.

“It’s okay. It's nothing special really, I’m not super attached. I guess I could look for another waitress job closer to-” she started, only to be cut off.

“You don't have to. You don't have to work full stop, I’ve got enough to look after the both of us,” he spoke up and she frowned.

“I don't wanna leech off you, Si,” she shook her head and he reached over the table and grasped her hands.

“You won't be. I wanna… I wanna take care of you, wanna look after my wife. You don't have to work and you… you could focus on your art. You always said you wanted to do somethin’ with it, it’d give you time to figure it all out, get on your feet,” he implored. 

She struggled with saying yes to him for the simple fact that she didn't like feeling like a user. She’d always had to look after herself and knowing Simon wanted to do it for her was a strange feeling, despite already knowing this. This would be a complete surrender to him but she couldn't lie and say it wasn't appealing. She’d always wanted to try and do something with her art, maybe sell her work or work for a company or something art related. She messed around with patterns sometimes, maybe she could be a pattern designer. 

Having no job meant more time to hone her skills, to come up with ideas on where she wanted to go with it. Eventually, hopefully, she’d be making her own money again through whatever art medium she chose, so it would only be temporary. And she hadn't lied about not being attached to her job. She enjoyed it to a degree and it was a comfort in the known, in the stale and regular. But maybe she was ready for a change. Maybe she was ready to spread her wings and do something different with her life. Do something for her for once. Selfishness wasn't in her nature but Simon was trying to show her that being selfish wasn’t always a bad thing, self care and learning to love yourself wasn't a bad thing. 

Living on base also meant more time with Simon and meant he didn't have to get up at ridiculous times just to trek to work. More time with Simon was definitely a win in her book because she hated being away from him.

“Are you sure you won't mind?” she asked softly and at her clear wavering on her stance, a pretty smile graced Simon’s face as he squeezed her hand.

“Positive, love. Want nothin’ more than to look after you. You allowed me to go chase after my dreams and now I want you to be able to do the same,” he breathed and it made a lump lodge in her throat. 

“Guess we’re moving on base then,” she snorted and the way Simon’s face lit up was better than anything she’d ever witnessed before. 

It was crazy how fast things were suddenly moving and yet it felt right. It felt right to marry him, to move in with him. There was no one else in the world she could imagine wanting to settle down with more. Simon was the best partner anyone could ask for and he’d already done so much for her, already helped her come out of her shell more and look after herself. She wanted that forever with him that he wanted with her and she felt so lucky that he wanted her in his life, that he wanted to share it with her. She couldn't wait to be Mrs Charlotte Riley.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: He’s finally back baybeeeee!

Simon’s out here making moves in this one. It's pretty long and a complete rollercoaster of emotions. I could have split this one into two chapters but I’m lazy so… lmao

Also, Mard means being a whiny little baby, just for reference. 

Placebo - English Summer Rain

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Start again, start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Simon's body felt like it weighed a tonne. He leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed as he fought an exhaustion so deep, it clawed at his insides. The last ten months had been more gruelling than anything he'd ever done, but it was done now. He'd done it. The pride he felt tugging in his chest was almost overwhelming and he couldn't wait to see Lottie. She obviously knew he made it, but he wanted to tell her how well he did, wanted her to be proud of him. 

God, he'd missed her. Being away from her with zero contact had been worse than the RTI training and he couldn't wait to get inside and grab her. He wondered how she'd been these past months, if she was alright. He'd been planning on ringing his mum to let her know he was back and asking how Charlotte had been, yet he'd been far too tired. It was only 9.43 pm but he hadn't slept in what felt like forever. The training had ended and he'd been shoved right back on a plane back for his leave before it started for real.

His muscles were firmer, bigger, than before he left. He hadn't been out of shape in the least but all this training had toned him up even more. He wondered if Lottie would like it or not, wondered a lot about what went on in her head. As the lift doors opened, he breathed a sigh of relief before stepping out and trudging his way to their apartment. The second he'd got on the plane, he'd been itching to just get home, get in bed with Lottie all to himself so he could fall asleep with her in his arms again finally. He'd had to make one stop before getting home but now he was here. 

His lips quirked up as he saw the Halloween decorations on the door. A little spooky wreath with pumpkins and ghosts, a real carved pumpkin with a lit candle just outside the door to the right. There was still a couple of days until Halloween but clearly, his girl had been busy. He eased the door open slowly, instantly being greeted by music. Placebo. He tried to place the song and it didn't hit him until he heard some lyrics. English Summer Rain. 

He looked around, seeing Charlotte in the kitchen area in one of his t-shirts and either tiny shorts or just her knickers, he couldn't tell. She was messing about with something in the oven, her body dancing about a bit to the music. He watched her with an amused smirk as she took a tray out of the oven and heavily set it on the counter. The smell drifted over to him and he almost groaned at the delicious cinnamon smell. She was singing along, swaying her hips and having a good time. It was such a lovely sight to come home to and he wanted to burn it into his brain for the rest of his days.

She turned around, yelping loudly with a hand flying to her chest as he watched her with a fond grin. It took her a moment for her brain to register what she was seeing but then her eyes widened, a face splitting grin on her lips before she squealed and ran around the counter. He dropped his duffle bag just in time to catch her, lifting her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. 

He felt the same feeling he had after getting home with his last deployment, like his thirst was being quenched after being denied water for far too long. He held her close, greedily inhaling her scent as he nuzzled the side of her face. She pulled her head away to look down at him and his heart felt like it expanded in size at the look she gave him. She gripped either side of his face with her small hands, looking at him like she wasn't sure he was real. 

“Hello, love,” he murmured and her eyes turned glassy, her smile watery. 

“I missed you,” she didn't give him time to respond because her lips were then on his. He sighed softly, body relaxing as he kissed her back and enjoyed the comfort it brought him. When she pulled away, he couldn't tear his eyes off her.

“I missed you too,” he breathed, glad to be finally back with her. “Somethin’ smells good,” he commented, his stomach growling at the sweet scent filling the apartment. 

“Cinnamon rolls, your mum taught me how to make them,” a deep and steadying warmth wrapped around him at her words, something tugging in his chest at the idea of his mum being here and taking care of her, of teaching her things. She looked so proud of herself too. She wriggled until he let her go and he instantly felt the loss of her against him, watching as she rushed over to the kitchen. 

“Sit down, I’ll be over in a minute,” she smiled over her shoulder at him and he complied simply because he felt ready to pass out. He groaned as the couch swallowed him whole, sinking deeper into the cushions as his body started to relax thoroughly. She came over not too long later with a cinnamon roll in her hand and a can of Guinness. He raised a brow at her with an amused smile and she snorted, handing them over to him.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, figured I'd get some in for you,” she explained sheepishly. 

“Appreciate it, love,” he murmured, popping the can open and taking a long swig of it with a content sigh. He took a large bite of the cinnamon roll, eyes practically rolling back into his head with how amazing it tasted. 

“Good then?” she asked hopefully and he nodded eagerly, munching the rest of it easily.

“Perfect,” he hummed, licking the icing off his fingers that was still wet. He presumed she’d just put it on when she was in the kitchen. She beamed a smile at him, so pretty it fucking hurt him. That smile was the only thing in his mind when the SAS was putting him through the ringer, making sure he wouldn't spill his secrets to the enemy. He knew he was strong willed, growing up with an abusive father would do that to you, but she’d strengthened his resolve even more. She’d helped him get through the whole ordeal, the prospect of getting back to her and making her proud driving him on.

“How did it go then? Was it hard? Did they hurt you?” she asked, hovering so close she might as well be on top of him, not that he’d complain at all. 

“Was alright, bit rough but I got through it. Made it through top five,” he couldn't help the pride in his voice knowing not only did he get through, but he ranked high up enough to get noticed. Her face lit up with a wide smile and his pride flared even more. 

“I knew you could do it!” she grinned and his heart stuttered in his chest. She leaned over, pressing her lips to his sweetly, making him melt all over again. When she pulled away, her eyes scanned his tired face as he blinked slowly at her and she smiled sweetly at him, taking the can from his hand and putting it on the coffee table.

“You wanna go to bed? You look shattered,” she murmured, her hand running through his short hair and making him shiver slightly. Part of him wanted to protest because he’d only just got home, felt like he’d spent no time with her. He was tired though and laying in bed with her wrapped around him sounded divine right about now. He had plans for the next day anyway and he knew he needed the rest.

“Sounds good, love,” he smiled and she nodded as she got up. She was already ready for bed and he stripped off to just his boxers before heavily flopping into bed. She wasted no time crawling in beside him, giggling when he snaked his arms around her and pulled her to lay her head on his chest. She wrapped a leg around him and he felt an overwhelming comfort at feeling her pressed against him like this. The last ten months had been hell trying to sleep without her.

“I love you so much,” he muttered sleepily, feeling her smile against his chest.

“I love you too,” she replied softly, snuggling closer to him. Having her so close, being able to feel her, smell her, it soothed all of his fried nerves and his body finally felt safe, finally felt okay to relax and let go. He drifted off to sleep easily, better than he had in months. 

“Riley, CO wants you.”

Simon looked over at the man who he couldn't seem to place, someone a little higher up than he was here. He nodded, wondering what he’d done to call the attention of his superior, hoping he hadn’t fucked up somehow since he was new here. He’d felt secure in his place in the army, knowing his squad and his CO there well. This was different and it was strange to be back at the start all over again, even if he was still ranked as a Sergeant. He made his way to his CO’s office, back straight, head held high. He was pretty sure he hadn’t messed up so he wondered what he wanted, hoped it wasn't about a deployment so soon. Lottie would kill him. 

He knocked on the wooden door and heard the man tell him to come in. He walked inside, standing at the other side of the desk, looking at the older man with greying hair.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked, feeling a pinch of nerves when the man frowned in a weird way. A pitying way.

“Sit down, son,” he ordered and something in his tone set Simon on edge, so much so that he ignored his CO’s order. 

“What is it?” he asked warily and the man heaved a sigh, running a hand over his weary face.

“You need to go to the hospital. They called and need you to identify a body,” he informed him and suddenly, Simon's world stopped turning. A body. Someone was dead.

“Who is it? My mum? Is it Charlotte?” he asked rapidly, swaying on his feet as his blood pressure skyrocketed. His CO stood up, rushing over to him and steadying him where he stood.

“They wouldn't tell me, Simon, I’m sorry. You just need to get over there,” he frowned sadly and Simon was sure he’d throw up. 

Everything was a blur. One minute he was in his CO’s office, the next he was standing in the hallway of the hospital. He wasn't sure how he even got here, his brain completely shutting down on him. The sign on the door in front of him said morgue and his chest caved in, ragged with his rough breathing. He pushed the door open, his lower lip wobbling at the table lay out there, someone under a sheet. He couldn't breathe, pitiful noises leaving his lips as he took slow steps towards the sheet. 

“Are you ready, Mr Riley?” he looked up, seeing a woman in a hospital uniform giving him a sad look, standing at the head of the body. He wanted to say no, wanted to tell her he couldn’t face knowing whoever was under there was dead, because no matter who it was, it would ruin him. He nodded his head though, needing to know. She pulled the sheet down, revealing his precious angel and the noise he made was that of a wounded animal. 

“No… no, no, no,” he wept, stumbling over to her as he shook his head frantically. She looked so peaceful as she lay there, serene, as if she was in a deep sleep. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be, it wasn't fair. Deep gut wrenching sobs ripped out of his throat as he cradled her face. Her skin was ice cold and he internally begged her to wake up, for it all to be a dream. 

“Come on, Simon, what you being mard for?” a rough voice asked him and he tearfully whipped around to see none other than his weathered father standing there. Something was very wrong though because Simon had to look up to see him, not down at him like the last time he’d seen him. He frowned in confusion, turning back to the table with Lottie on it, only to be a few foot shorter. He yelped, a hard hand gripping the back of his neck harshly and jostling his body.

“Stop your whinin’, you stupid boy! Laugh!” his father bellowed, shoving him closer to the body of his beloved. 

“Dad, no! Stop!” he pleaded, his voice nothing like that he was used to, not anymore. His dad pressed his face against Charlotte’s, only now she didn't look serene, she didn't look peaceful. Her dead eyes were wide open in terror, mouth contorted in an unnatural way. He started yelling, pushing back the hold his dad had on him as his dad started to laugh like a man deranged. 

“Stop it! Please, stop!” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he couldn't fight against his fathers hold on him, couldn't get away.

He flew up with a heaving gasp, his lungs burning and his body on fire. There was a loud pitch ringing in his ears and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Suddenly, he felt hands grabbing at him, making him panic and lurch away. It caused him to fall off his side of the bed with a thud. He blinked slowly at the dark ceiling and then squinted when the bedroom light came to life with no warning. The ringing in his ears started to subside, his breathing regulating a little, but then Charlotte came into view, peering down at him in concern and he felt shame and embarrassment worm its way so deep inside of him that it was rotting his bones. 

A nightmare, of course it was. Or more like a nightmare mixed with a memory. How fucked was that then? He'd not had a single nightmare since he'd started his relationship with Charlotte, since the very first night they fucking met. It had been a pure relief for him, reprieve from the torment that always seemed to plague him. She'd made it all better, taken away his past pain, but now they decided to start back up. 

He knew why, he wasn't fucking stupid. The stress of his SAS training had cracked his fucking dome in, ripped down the walls that Charlotte had so lovingly put up for him to keep his nightmares at bay. The nightmare might not have been about the torture he endured in training but he knew that's what triggered it. 

It wasn't that he did badly, in fact he passed with flying colours unlike some of the other hopefuls that wound up too traumatised to carry on. But it was brutal and there wasn't a single SAS soldier alive who could say they came out of that training without some mental fucking scars. It had ripped barely healed wounds right open for him and he felt so disgusted with himself. He felt weak and it was only made worse by the barely concealed pity in his girl's eyes. He never wanted her to look at him like that. Like she felt fucking sorry for him. He was better than this, stronger. 

“Are you okay?” She asked sweetly, her voice low and calm like she was talking to a spooked animal. It poked at the raw wound pulsating in his chest and he felt an uncomfortable heat building inside of him. She held her hand out for him and he ignored it as he hopped to his feet. He could feel his face burning in shame as he refused to look at her.

“I'm fine,” he bit out, needing desperately to get away from her and those sad blue eyes. He started stomping off and out of the room, hearing her rushed footsteps behind him. 

“Simon…“ she murmured, pity and worry coating her words like she didn't know what to say and he couldn't take it. 

“I said I'm fuckin' fine! Just leave it!” He snapped, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door so hard, the mirror above the sink wobbled. 

Regret hit him like a freight train instantly at talking to her like that and he gripped the edge of the sink, lowering his head as he heaved ragged breaths. She didn't deserve that, she just wanted to help him. Had a heart of fucking gold and he just ripped it to shreds. He hated himself. Hated himself more when he heard a pitiful sniffle from outside the door where he'd left her and his chest felt like it was caving in on himself. What a bastard he was, just like his dad. The rage flowed through him to such a degree it worried him, the urge to punch the mirror and shatter the useless piece of shit staring back at him. He pushed it down though, taking long and deep breaths as he tried to allow the feelings to pass. His poor sweet girl. Fuck. 

He scrubbed at his eyes, feeling sick when he found them damp and he shook his head. It wasn't her fault his father had been a mean bastard. Wasn't her fault that even though he wasn't a weak boy anymore that his past still haunted him. He didn't want to be that monster, didn't want to be his fucking father. He was better than that, he knew he was. He still felt that lingering grief at losing her that his nightmare had evoked. It felt so real, that loss of her, so harrowing he knew he’d fucking off himself if that ever happened. His life wouldn't be worth living. 

With a shaky breath and heavy chest, he pushed open the bathroom door. As he walked out, he saw Charlotte in the kitchen in only his shirt that swamped her. Her back was to him as she fussed over a cup and he noticed it was his cup, she didn't have one. He'd bit her head off and here she was, making him a fucking brew. And he knew before he even said anything she was blaming herself, somehow justifying his bullshit as her fault, that she deserved it and it made him feel nasty inside. Made him feel like a vile cunt for contributing to her already ruined self esteem. She hadn't noticed him as she stirred the tea and his heart clenched when her spare hand wiped quickly at her eyes. 

“Love…” he murmured contritely, shame weighing on him heavily only this time it was less to do with embarrassing himself. She whipped around to look at him and he wanted to strangle himself at her red rimmed and glassy eyes. 

“Are you-” she started as if on instinct but then her mouth clamped shut like she didn't want another earful off him. It made his shoulders slump as he carefully approached her. “I-I made you tea,” she muttered with a wobbly voice, forcing a smile for him as she grabbed the cup. He winced, eyes burning as he blinked quickly. 

“I'm sorry,” he breathed tearfully, his voice cracking as he looked at her and how unsure she seemed to be around him. She looked at him and then the cup still in her hands, shifting on her feet. 

“It's okay, you were going through stuff,” she shrugged with a shake of her head and he frowned. He grabbed the cup from her hand and put it on the counter, causing her to look at him warily. He grasped at one of her hands, pressing it against his chest where his ruthless heart lay beating steadily. 

“Don't do that. Don't ever make excuses for me when I act like a bastard, Charlotte. You never deserve me to snap at you like that,” he insisted firmly. He wouldn't do this to her, wouldn't become his father, wouldn't be a mean twat. He wouldn't tear her to pieces like a piece of paper. She looked uncomfortable and he knew her brain was having a hard time with accepting his words, always thinking she was at fault. He was grateful she didn't argue with him though, he didn't have it in him right now. She nodded, her thumb rubbing against his chest soothingly. 

“I forgive you,” she whispered and while he felt relieved, he still felt like a bastard about it because he knew she'd forgive him no matter what he did. Knew she'd never hold him responsible for fucking anything. 

“I love you,” his voice sounded pleading almost, but for what he didn't know. He hurt her and he needed her to know that he loved her more than anything. A pretty smile graced her face and she took his limply hanging hand. She mimicked him, pressing it against her heart that he could feel fluttering against his hand. 

“I love you too. And I'm always here, whether you need someone to talk to or you need space. Just let me know,” she said quietly and he knew she was right. He'd always kept his work away from her and he still intended to but she deserved to know what upset him like this. While nightmares were something he was used to, Charlotte wasn't aware of that. This was new for her to see him this way because she usually kept them away. 

He grabbed his cup with one hand, her hand with the other before he led her to the couch. He set his tea on the coffee table before sitting down and tugging her to sit with him. As she went to sit next to him, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to straddle him. She came willingly, settling against his chest like she belonged there, her head lay on his shoulder and her nose against his neck. His arms encircled her instantly, seeking out closeness and comfort. 

Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to go to her after something like this, instead of pushing her away. He felt his muscles relax instantly under her touch. She waited patiently as she lay there with him, her fingers drawing patterns on his bare chest and he allowed one of his hands to slide up her back under his shirt she was wearing, wanting to feel her skin. 

“It was a nightmare,” he started with a low voice and it felt like she pressed herself closer at his admission.

“Was it the training?” She asked in a whisper, her voice caring and gentle. He pressed his nose against her head, breathing in her scent deeply and allowing it to soothe him.

“Was and it wasn't. Wasn't about what happened there but… but it dragged a lot of shit up for me. Stuff with my dad,” he admitted. He could feel his cheeks heat up at talking about it so openly despite the fact she already knew about his father. She moved to sit up then as if sensing the gravity of the conversation. 

She gave him a soft look as her hands smoothed up his chest. His hands wandered her body before settling on her thighs, rubbing and squeezing them like they were a squishy stress toy. He could have left it at that admission and be done with it, she wasn't prying for more information, but he found himself wanting to tell her, needing to get the poison out of his system once and for all. 

“You know what he was like, the shit he did, but… one of the worst was… He took me to this metal concert, a band he liked. Drug use was just part and parcel of bein' there. At one point I couldn't find him so I went lookin’... Found him in the bathroom with a prostitute. They were shootin’ up in one of the stalls, only… only she was fuckin' dead. OD’d on the bullshit. And my dad, he… he found it fuckin' hilarious, forced me to stare at her, force me to laugh at her dead body,” he grit out, eyes unseeing for a moment as he felt the same feelings he felt all those years ago. Fear, disgust, shame, sadness. His dad hadn't saw any worth in the woman just because she was a sex worker but she was someone's daughter. Maybe someone sister or mother or aunt. She was a person and he'd been forced to look at her lifeless body and laugh like she was nothing but the butt of a bad joke. He couldn't bring himself to tell her his nightmare was a twist of that memory, that she’d been dead instead of the prostitute. 

He was dragged out of his miserable thoughts when Charlotte's warm hands cupped his cheeks, making his dark eyes snap to hers. Her brows were pinched together as her thumbs swiped over his cheeks. 

“You didn't deserve to go through that,” she muttered and his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs at the concern in her eyes. It wasn't so much pity as just not liking the fact he'd been through something like that. The same feelings he had when thinking of her past. 

“I really hope I get to meet him one day so I can kick him in the nuts,” she huffed, a scowl on her pretty face. Despite everything, his lips quirked up at the image she’d provided him with. He knew she couldn't hurt a fly, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. 

“You gonna beat him up for me?” he asked in amusement and she gave him a wry grin.

“Damn right I will,” she said firmly and his smile widened. Fuck, he loved her. How she managed to bring him back from the brink of his own dark mind was beyond him. He wasn't sure how he’d cope if he didn't have her in his life. One of his hands left her thigh, moving to cup her cheek. He enjoyed how she always leaned into his touch.

“You mean the world to me, love,” he murmured, eyes shining at her affectionately. He was sure he looked moon eyed as he gazed at her, nothing but a lovesick fool. The prettiest smile painted her lips and he was breathless, struck by how absolutely stunning she was. And she was all his. She leaned in, pecking his lips with a sweet kiss as she smiled at him.

“You mean the world to me too.” He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her love but he was damn sure gonna keep it. He’d do whatever it took to keep her by his side. His nightmare had been harrowingly realistic and he’d felt every emotion as if it had played out in real life. He knew what it felt like to lose her and he didn't think he’d ever shake that feeling for as long as he lived. He took comfort in her weight on him, in feeling her warm breath fanning his neck as she tucked herself neatly there, at feeling her chest expand with each breath, pressing against his. He’d make sure he never felt that feeling again.

When Simon woke up the next morning, his neck was stiff as a board. It took him a moment to get his bearings, realising he was asleep lay on the couch. The night before came back to him, the nightmare, Charlotte comforting him. They’d stayed on the couch all night and she’d wound up getting her Grimm’s book, reading to him. He must have fallen asleep. But now he was wondering where the hell she was and he sat up, looking over the couch and seeing her flitting about in the kitchen. He groaned softly, stretching his sore muscles from the way he’d slept and he felt bad for falling asleep on her like that, for waking her up with his nightmare to begin with. He stood up, rubbing his tired eyes as he padded into the kitchen. 

She looked over at him, radiant smile on her lips that always punched him in the chest every time he saw it. She was wearing just one of his shirts and he knew it was his favourite outfit on her. 

“Good mornin’, love,” he murmured, his voice slightly raspy from sleep. 

“Good afternoon,” she replied wryly, a smirk tugging at her lips as his brows shot up. He looked at the clock quickly, seeing it was indeed 12.46 pm. He hadn’t realised he’d slept for so long but fuck knows, he needed it. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he frowned, feeling bad about waking up so late. 

“Don’t be. You were proper knackered, especially after… waking up like you did. You needed the rest,” she smiled sweetly at him. He noticed the pan then and the smell of eggs and he felt a tugging in his chest.

“Eggy bread?” he asked hoarsely, so many memories hitting him all at once it made his head spin. The little smile on her face made him think she was aware of what was going on in his head.

“Your mum taught me how to make it. She said she’d try and make it for you and Tommy on special occasions, so…” she trailed off, looking somewhat uncertain. The tugging in his chest got worse and worse, the gesture touching him. He had so many lovely memories tied to this simple dish, memories of his mother trying her best for him and his brother, despite their awful father. 

“What we celebratin’, then?” he asked curiously, trying to rid the emotion clogging up his throat. She gave him a funny look, tilting her head at him.

“You,” she said simply and he just blinked at her. “You being back here, you getting through the SAS stuff with flying colours,” she added softly and he felt his ears burning at the tips. The idea of being celebrated was foreign to him, especially if it wasn't his birthday, but it touched him and he smiled down at her. 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, making her beam a smile at him. He was excited for the food, he hadn't had it in a while and he always enjoyed it. 

“You're welcome. You can get something on if you want, it's almost done,” she grinned, gesturing to his state of undress in just his boxers. He did have plans for the day she was unaware of so it would do him good to get dressed. He leaned down, kissing her lips with a smile before he sauntered off to the bedroom. 

The bed was neatly made now, unlike the disarray he left it in after his nightmare. Everything was back where it should be. He got himself into some dark jeans and the sage green jumper she’d bought him at some point. She really loved him in jumpers apparently. He came out as she was plating up and his stomach growled loudly as he moved to sit at the dining table. A plate full of eggy bread and beans was placed in front of him and he didn't even wait for her, digging in and making her laugh at him. She joined him, her own plate with the same but a little less food as they ate together. It was so nostalgic for him, remembering every birthday he and Tommy had where his mother managed to make it for them. It had become a routine and one he’d cherished as a child. 

He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they ate, wondering if she was even real. He had half a mind to think he was in some insane asylum somewhere and this whole thing was a figment of his imagination. How was it possible for someone to be so kind and caring, to be so loving and giving? 

“What?” she asked after catching him, wiping her face as if she thought she had food there. 

“Nothin’, you're just…” he trailed off, nerves and excitement blooming in his stomach at the plans he had for the day, his feelings for her only getting stronger with each passing second he spent with her. 

“I’m just what?” she asked, eyeing him warily and he smiled warmly at her.

“Perfect,” he supplied simply. She flushed delightfully, looking down with a bashful smile on her face.

“We’ve been over this,” she rolled her eyes playfully but her blush didn't ease. He wanted to launch himself over the table and fuck her into next week when she looked all coy and shy like this. Wanted to make her sing.

“Yeah, yeah. No one’s perfect and all that. Except that's a load of bollocks, ‘cause you are,” he argued with a smirk and he didn't think it was possible, but she blushed even harder. 

She wouldn’t look at him for a moment, a shy smile she was trying to suppress still on her face. When she lifted those beautiful blue eyes to his, he wanted to drop to his knees in reverence to her. 

“If I’m perfect, then so are you,” she muttered, almost pouting and he chuckled at her. He wasn't going to argue with her because he knew she wouldn't hear any of it. If he had to go along with her bullshit so she’d accept a bloody compliment off him then he’d do it. They finished their food off with shared smiles and blushes on her part. before he got up, taking both their plates over to the sink and ignoring Lottie’s protests as he did.

“Get your arse dressed, got some shit planned,” he ordered from the sink, not even looking at her as his nerves expanded from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Oooh, where are we going?” she asked excitedly and he was surprised when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him from behind. She’d really turned the tables on him since this was what he usually liked to do to her and he knew it must of looked bonkers from the other side with her being so small. He smiled to himself as her hands slid up his jumper, smoothing up his muscles and drawing a happy little hum from her. 

“Not tellin’ you, so get dressed,” he smirked and she heaved a large sigh, resting her forehead on his back.

“Fine,” she almost whined but he could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see it. A kiss was placed on his back before her arms disappeared and he found himself longing for her again already. Was mad how he fucking missed her even though she was right there, how the fuck did that work?

As she dressed, he got the kitchen nice and clean, putting everything away when he was done. He noticed something on the fridge then that he hadn't noticed the night before, being as tired as he was. It was a picture tacked to the fridge with a little heart magnet and the picture made his heart stutter against his ribs. It was a picture of Lottie holding little Joseph. He hadn't seen the boy since he got back yet but he’d grown already so much. By Simon’s calculations, he’d be 11 months now. He wondered what milestones he’d missed, was he walking yet? Joseph was sitting on Lottie’s knee with a precious smile on his chubby little face and Lottie was looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ. It was the same look she’d worn at the hospital when she looked at him, now encapsulated in a photograph. It stirred so many feelings in him as he looked at it.

“Me, Beth and Jo went to town, had dinner at Cafe Metro. Beth took the picture, I didn't even realise she’d taken it until after she had it printed.” He jumped, not even hearing her come back in and he whipped around to see her now dressed. 

She was wearing an outfit he hadn’t been privy to yet and he wondered if she'd gotten it when he was away. The skirt was black, high waisted and long, reaching her calves and fitted to her silhouette exquisitely, a slit going up the side no doubt to help her walk with ease. She’d put on some black tights and her top was a cropped jumper, the colour almost matching his with the pretty green colour she loved so much. The amused smirk on her face had him wondering if she’d picked it to match him on purpose. 

“Is this okay?” she asked as she looked down at herself, still having no idea what he had planned. A hum reverberated low in his throat and he grasped her hips, pulling her closer to him greedily and making her giggle as her hands spread over his chest.

“Perfect. Love the skirt,” he hadn’t meant it to but his voice came out a mere growl as his hands slid around to her arse. The skirt hugged her perfectly and he was enjoying how it clung to her curves. 

“Remind me to wear it again, then,” she grinned cheekily, perching up on her tiptoes to give him a slow and languid kiss that set his blood on fire. He hadn’t taken her since he got back yet and as much as he wanted to put her over the table and rut into her until she was sobbing with pleasure, they had shit to do. 

“Stop distractin’ me, you little minx. Shoes and coat on,” he ordered, giving her arse a smack for good measure before ushering her off. She laughed as she moved away, eyes twinkling with mischief as she went off to do as she was told, pulling her Docs on with her leather jacket. He moved to put his hoodie on before slipping off into the bedroom. 

He shut the door before quickly hurrying over to his duffel bag by the bed that he still hadn’t emptied. He crouched, tilting his head to keep his ear out for a moment and when he couldn't hear Lottie at all, he unzipped the bag and rummaged around at the bottom of it. Once he found what he was looking for, he grabbed it, slipping it into his pocket. When he left the room, his girl was fully ready and patiently waiting for him. She shot him a beautiful smile as he approached and he smiled back, unable not to when she made his chest so warm.

“Ready?” he asked her, getting a nod in return.

“Ready.”

He was stalling and he knew he was but he really couldn't help it, not when nerves kept seizing his limbs in a vice. It wasn't that he was having second thoughts, his mind was firmly set and nothing would change that, but how the fuck was he to know how she’d react? That was the terrifying part, to put himself out there so openly and be rejected. He knew she loved him, he didn’t doubt that for a second but it didn’t mean she would go along with his crazy fucking plan now, did it? They were in the city centre and he’d taken her shopping. She’d outright refused at first, telling him they were supposed to be celebrating him and not her, but he promptly told her that since they were celebrating him, he should be able to do whatever he wanted, including spoiling his girlfriend. That had shut her up for a bit. He loved spoiling her though and eventually, she’d given in, knowing there was no use in fighting him and allowed him to just buy her shit. 

They’d gotten some Lush, easing her mind a little when he told her he fully expected to get in those baths with her and enjoy the bath bombs and bubble bars she’d gotten. He got her some clothes but she didn't want much, said the clothes weren’t worth the money and he had to admit he agreed, even if she did force him to treat himself to some bits and pieces. They’d sat in Waterstones too for a bit, gathering a small collection of books for the pair of them and enjoying the quiet atmosphere in there as they perused the shelves. 

It was a nice day, calming, to just walk about with her like this. But as the day had worn on, that biting anxiety had started to get more and more intense until he couldn't ignore it. Couldn’t ignore it when he took her to the same Italian place they’d gone to all that time ago. She’d been so happy about it and he’d spent the entire time feeling like he might pass out with how light headed he was feeling. She’d picked up on it embarrassingly enough. Apparently he looked pale and worse for wear and he’d lied right to her face, told her he was just feeling under the weather. Felt like a right bastard when she’d taken his hand across the table and suggested they go home so she could look after him. He only agreed because he needed to get this over with. The longer he waited, the worse these feelings would be and he really didn’t want to fuck the whole thing up because he was panicking. Knowing the potential to ruin absolutely everything, he was losing his damn mind. 

“Are we not getting the bus?” she asked softly, her hand clasping his as they strolled down the dark street. The lamp posts were the only thing illuminating it, giving it a slightly yellow tinge. 

“Yeah, just not this one,” he murmured and she looked at him with realisation and a pretty smile, curling her other hand around his arm, practically hugging it. 

“Are we taking a trip down memory lane?” she asked cheekily, fluttering those long lashes at him. It always surprised him that all he had to do was look at her and he remembered he was a fucking goner for her. Absolutely done in, had no chance. 

“Maybe,” he replied, making her smile widen as she leaned her head on his arm for a moment. 

She was practically clinging to him and he was soaking every little bit of her affection up. When they got to the same bus stop he met her at, the feelings inside his chest were whirling around like a hurricane. He watched her, completely enraptured as she looked around, not having been here in a bit. Was nothing remarkable, just a fucking bus stop, but it changed everything. She made a move to sit at the bench but his hand tightened around hers, pulling her back over to him as she blinked up at him in question.

“I… think about this bus stop a lot,” he confessed, his heart thumping hard against his chest. “It’s mad really… I coulda gone to any one of ‘em, yet… I was here and then you came along.” he hadn't really prepared a speech. God knows he bloody tried but this kind of stuff didn't come easy to him and he’d given up trying to script it, decided to just wing it but now he wasn't sure his words were the right ones or that it was coming out the way he wanted it to. His free hand moved to stroke her cheek as she looked at him with those wide and loving eyes, a sweet smile toying on her lips.

“I’m really glad you chose this bus top,” she murmured as she gave his hand a squeeze. He smiled but it was shaky, much like his breathing as he stepped even closer to her, his thumb swiping over her slightly flushed cheek. He needed to just get it out of him, purge it from his system and so the flood gates opened and the words just tumbled right out of him.

“You know I’m not good with words. I wish I could tell you just how much you mean to me but I don’t think there's any words in the English language to do it justice. Tellin’ you that I love you just doesn't feel enough. You came into my life with all your light and chased all the shadows away, you gave me things I never thought I wanted or deserved. I didn't think… I never thought I could love like I do with you, never thought I could be loved. You’ve changed my life completely and I’m a better man for it, for you. I realised somethin’ back before I went off for selection, fuckin’ hit me like a freight train and then I couldn’t shake it. I knew I wanted this, us, you, forever. I knew that you're it for me, all I’ll ever need,” she was watching him intently, eyes shining slightly as she looked at him like she couldn't quite comprehend his words and he knew her insecure brain was probably trying to wrap her head around it. He took a deep and shaky inhale, letting go of her hand and her face, making her brows furrow slightly. 

“Charlotte… I… fuck… “ his heart was galloping a mile a minute and he could feel his pulse in his neck. He was sure he was about to keel over from a medical emergency with the way his body was carrying on. He wanted to continue his grand speech, wanted to keep declaring his undying love for her but the words got stuck in his throat as he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He shoved his hand in his pocket, grabbing what was in there before he dropped down heavily to one knee, opening the box to reveal a silver ring with a diamond in the centre. 

“Will you marry me, love?” his voice was bordering on hysterical pleading as his wide eyes implored at her from where he kneeled. The rapid beating of his heart only increased when she stared at him unblinking and he started to worry he’d made a colossal mistake by doing this. Maybe it was too soon, maybe she didn't even want to get married, he’d never bothered to ask her thoughts on the subject because he didn't think he was the marrying type himself. 

“You… you wanna marry me?” he was broken out of his musings by her soft and incredulous voice and he was just glad she started blinking again.

“Would be mental not to,” he confessed quietly, meaning his words wholeheartedly. His heart was in his throat, completely at her mercy on the floor with his beating heart in her hands. Despite his concern of her crushing it right before his eyes, soft tears fell down her pretty cheeks, a radiant smile curling her lips.

“Yes,” she laughed tearfully and he blinked dumbly at her for a moment, sure he’d heard wrong.

“Yes?” he breathed, hope coating his tone painfully. She wiped her eyes with a laugh, her smile the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

“Yeah,” she grinned. The feeling that exploded inside of him felt like a mini heart attack. He couldn't even put it into words, happiness felt too menial of a word. He’d never felt anything quite like this feeling of pure elation and he had a smile of his own on his face, grabbing her hand once she gave it to him and putting the ring on her finger with a shaky hand. He practically bounced up to his feet before capturing her lips in a desperate kiss that she eagerly melted into. She said yes. She was going to be his wife, he was going to fucking marry her. Charlotte Riley, he really liked the sound of that.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty One)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Simon’s out here splashing the cash on his girl lololol

2008 was a miserable year and Charlotte wanted no part of it. He'd been gone now for almost 8 months and she didn't know what to do with herself. Not being able to even write him a letter was nothing but pure pain and she cursed him for fucking off to the SAS like that even though she knew it made her selfish. Beth had tried to be a distraction for her, constantly having her over or taking her out on days off, surrounding her with Joseph who was getting bigger by the day. It worked somewhat and Joseph was definitely a joy to be around, but she always wound up back at their place, miserable, silent, alone. 

She'd lost weight despite not needing to but she hadn't been able to help it. She'd pushed on, trying to be brave for his sake for as long as she could but she'd reached her breaking point somewhere along the way. Dishes piled up in the sink, rubbish didn't get taken out. Her hair was up in a greasy bun and she was withering away. She just didn't feel hungry enough to eat properly when this horrible depression was seizing her so tightly. She felt ashamed and she knew Simon would be disappointed in her if he could see her. 

She hated not knowing where he was or what he was doing. Was he being tortured right now? He was being waterboarded? Nails being torn off? She had no idea what the SAS resistance to interrogation training was like but it couldn't be good and he'd willingly put himself there. He'd made it through the selection process like she knew he would, that was sure because he'd have been home months ago otherwise, but she had no idea when he'd even be back. 

There were different kinds of training and a lot depended on how you did in the one previous. For all she knew he could fail out and get sent home tomorrow. While she'd be happy to see him, she knew he'd be devastated and she felt bad for even thinking it. She wanted him to do well because he clearly wanted this so much. She'd been there when he told his family and by what Tommy had said, it was clear that he'd planned for this for years. She couldn't be selfish just because she loved him and stop him following his dreams. She had to suck it up and suffer in silence and just hope he'd come back soon. 

She was laying in bed after work in her pyjamas, blinking at the ceiling slowly. She'd had to put his pillow long ways in the bed so it felt like someone was behind her when she slept, spritzing it with his cologne at every chance she got. It helped, but not by much. It was only about 8pm but she didn't have it in her to sit all alone on the couch and watch nonsense on TV when he wasn't here to criticise it with her. Everything felt so empty without him here. So devoid of life. 

The door to the apartment knocked and for the briefest of moments, her heart rate spiked at the idea that he was home. It dawned on her then how utterly stupid she was being because he wouldn't knock, he'd just let himself in. Then she was just confused because no one had buzzed up. Maybe it was a neighbour. She heaved herself out of bed, feet shuffling on the carpet as she made her way to the door. When she opened it, she really didn't expect to see Mrs Riley herself standing there with a face the picture of concern. Her brown eyes flit over Charlotte, worry creasing her brows. 

“Oh, lovie. Come here,” she didn't wait for a reply before scooping Charlotte into a hug and she just stood there in confusion for a moment as her throat closed up. 

“Beth told me you weren't doing well, I didn't think it was this bad,” Anne murmured, squeezing her tightly and she felt the dam break. 

She'd purposely been avoiding Anne because the woman was rather observant and she knew she wouldn't let it slide as easily as Beth did. She found herself sobbing as the woman gently shushed her, rocking her side to side softly. She felt so stupid at breaking down like this, this was Simon's mother. She had more of a right to be upset than she did yet here she was comforting her. 

She was unable to stop her gut wrenching sobs though, months and months of pent up sadness, loneliness and frustration finally being let out. Really though, it ran deeper than that, years of painful loneliness rushing to the surface. Simon's absence had opened up old wounds. Anne held her until her sobs turned to sniffles and then led her inside properly, ushering her over to the couch where she plonked Charlotte. She wrapped the quilt she'd made Simon around her like a burrito before whisking off to the kitchen area. Charlotte watched on, shame burning her cheeks red as she started to clear away to rubbish. 

“You don't have to do that, Anne,” she called out with a frown. It made her feel all kinds of bad having her tidy up for her. 

“Nonsense, Charlotte. We're family, it's what we do,” the woman gave her a soft smile before getting to work in the kitchen. At some point, a cup of tea had been put on the coffee table for her before Anne returned back to the kitchen area. A few hours later and the entire apartment was spotless.

With the place now clean, Anne started cooking and from the smell, Charlotte instantly knew it was bolognese. Her stomach ached fiercely and she frowned at the sudden hunger that hit her. Once it was simmering, Anne came into the living area, sitting in the armchair looking at her. 

“I'm sorry,” Charlotte murmured with red cheeks. The shame she felt at Anne seeing her and this place in such a state was eating her alive like a wildfire. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Anne smiled softly, sipping a tea of her own. There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke up again. “I remember his first deployment, I don't think I slept the entire time with the worry. It got easier to manage in time. I try and keep myself well distracted with my crafts and bingo,” she gave Charlotte a rueful smile at that and her lips tugged up, the woman really did love her bingo. 

“I knew it'd be rough because we can't contact each other at all, but… I really thought I'd adjust once he was gone. I guess I'm just dealing with a lot,” Charlotte admitted, clutching the cup in her hand tightly.

“There's no shame in that, hun. We need to find you some new hobbies. I know you love art but we should see what else we could do to keep you occupied and he'll be back before you know it.” Charlotte had to admit that Anne's words and presence were comforting to her and even though she was embarrassed to be seen this way, she definitely appreciated it. 

“A new hobby sounds good. I think it's not just Simon, if I'm honest. I mean, I miss him. I really, really miss him, but… I think it's the adjustment of having someone here every day and then not. With everything in my past, I think it's brought up a lot of old feelings and it's overwhelming,” she confessed shyly. Anne didn't know much of her past, just bits and pieces from Simon or that she'd put together from asking her questions. She'd always been polite enough to not really mention it to Charlotte. 

“I can imagine it's tough. If you want to talk about it, you know I'm here. It helps sometimes… to talk about traumatic things. I was in therapy for years after… after Simon and Tommy's dad,” the woman had a haunted look across her face that made Charlotte's chest pinch but it was gone as quickly as it came. “I'd be more than happy to listen if you wanted me to,” she added with a warm smile. 

She thought about it for a moment, considering it. She always felt like a whiny baby talking about her past, even though Simon would try to convince her she wasn't. She trusted Anne and the woman had the mother's aura about her that she had always craved to have in her life. She was kind, caring. She was nurturing and Charlotte needed that, so she did open up. 

The floodgates completely opened as she told her all of it, from her first memories to the letter her mother had left her on Christmas Eve. She told her even more than Simon and when she was done, she felt cleansed from the inside out. Anne didn't make her feel like a burden, she listened intently, poking into the conversation every now and again to tell her whatever she was talking about wasn't her fault. She appreciated the talk immensely.

Anne stayed for a good few hours, eating food with her and putting the leftovers in tubs to freeze so she could help herself to more when she wanted. She had a feeling Anne would be popping in a lot more often and she found herself feeling a little less lonely. 

“It's your birthday in three weeks, isn't it?” Anne asked as they both made their way to the front door. She blinked blankly for a moment, she hadn't even realised it. Time had become so muddled in her miserable state that she didn't notice the date. 

“Yeah, the 31st,” she answered, leaning against the doorframe as Anne hovered in the hall looking thoughtful.  

“Come to mine and I'll cook something. I'll get Beth, Tommy and Joseph to come too,” she beamed and Charlotte felt her lips tugging upwards. 

“Thanks, Anne. I really appreciate it,” she murmured. Anne bundled her into a tight hug, patting her cheek affectionately before she moved away. 

“I'll let you get some sleep, it's getting a bit late now. Don't forget I'm only a phone call away, lovie,” with another warm smile, Anne was gone. 

Charlotte tried to not let the sudden loneliness get to her as she walked back inside. She felt better with the place now clean and she felt some sort of accountability now to keep it that way. She wouldn't be so rude as to have Anne tidy her mess just for her to mess it up again. She felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders after her deep and meaningful talk to the woman. She felt closer to her and just saying all of it out loud was cathartic. That was the first night in eight months she fell asleep peacefully.

Charlotte was dressed casually, some jogging bottoms and a tank top. She was munching some cereal as she lounged on the couch watching TV. It was a little warm out and she couldn't be bothered getting dressed properly just yet. The buzzer by the door went off in the tune of shave and a haircut and her lips quirked up, amusement and confusion colouring her face. She knew exactly who was wanting to be let in but she wasn't sure why he was here at 10am on her birthday. 

She set her cereal down on the coffee table before getting up, pressing the button to open the big door downstairs. She moved to grab her cereal bowl, no longer bothered with it as she took it into the kitchen to empty it and wash it. It didn't take long before she heard someone in the hallway.

“Happy birthday to youuuu, happy birthday to youuuu, happy birthday dear Charlotte! Happy birthday to youuuu!” Her cheeks flushed red, a large snort escaping her as she hurried to the door, not wanting the neighbours to be mad at them. The door swung open to reveal a cheeky looking Tommy at the door, grin in place and a bin bag in his hands. 

“Really? You trying to burst my eardrums for my birthday?” She asked in amusement and he laughed with mischief shining behind his eyes. 

“Did it work?” His grin widened as she rolled her eyes playfully, moving aside to let him in. He waltzed right in before plonking the bin bag on the dining table. She looked at it, raising her brow before dragging her eyes back to him. The shit eating grin he was sporting did little to tell her what was going on. 

“Presents… not off us, you'll get those later at mum's. These are from Simon. Told me back before he left that if I didn't give them to you the morning of your birthday that he'd kill me,” the look on his face told her Simon had definitely threatened him and she almost felt bad for him. She was more overtaken by shock that Simon had gotten her something, something he'd bought way back in January before he left. She didn't think it would have crossed his mind if she was honest. It hadn't even occurred to her that he'd miss another of her birthdays. 

“I'll leave you to it, don't wanna be a weirdo and loiter when you open them. God knows what he's got you,” he snorted and her cheeks flushed as she levelled him a look. 

“I'll see you later, then,” she murmured, giving him a smile. He nodded, grin still firmly in place as he clapped her on the shoulder before he saw himself out. 

She blinked at the bag before opening it up to reveal five wrapped presents. Her eyes narrowed and if she had a way to contact him, she'd have chewed him out for getting her so many things. Wanting to be comfortable as she opened them, she carefully took them over to the couch, making a few trips before sitting down. 

The first one she opened was a bath set and not a cheap looking one either. It was a brand she'd never heard of before, all lavender themed which Simon knew was her favourite. She was excited to try it out, already planning on having a bath before bed and what she'd use. She wanted to be sparing with it. 

When she unwrapped the second gift, she was greeted with the fluffiest and softest dressing gown she'd ever seen. Her eyes lit up as she rubbed it between her hands, knowing this would be perfect to put on after her bath. The next one she unwrapped was a copy of the complete works of H.P Lovecraft. Her chest warmed at how attentive he was, at how he listened to her every word, even her random musings in passing. She'd only mentioned wanting to read this once to him and yet he'd remembered. 

She opened the fourth and blinked slowly at it as she came face to face with a framed picture of one of her own artworks. It was a landscape piece of Clayton Vale she'd done, where the blackberry bushes were, where she'd taken Simon. She had no idea when he got it off her tablet or how but it was so odd to see her artwork displayed like this. It was surreal, a slightly out of body experience. She liked art and she didn't think she was bad at it but she didn't think she was that good to have her stuff framed either. Yet looking at this picture, she felt pride swell in her chest and a smile tug at her face. 

The last gift was the smallest and she wasn't sure why she'd decided to save it for last. She tore open the paper, looking at the small, velvet box, so similar to the one she'd gotten Simon for Christmas. She cracked the box open and it felt like the air left her lungs in a whoosh, eyes widening alarmingly. It was a necklace, a very beautiful necklace. The chain was silver and the pendant had a light blue gem in the centre, surrounded by a bunch of clear gems. It wasn't quite a circle, nor was it a square and the inside of the lid caught her attention with a small sticker inside. 

Cushion Cut Aquamarine and Diamond Halo Necklace.

Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Diamonds, like real actual diamonds. She'd presumed they were cubic zirconia because there was no way he spent that much money on her to get real fucking diamonds. She was speechless and while she was mad he spent so much money on her, she felt her chest full with inexplicable warmth as she reached into the box and carefully took it out. 

She'd never owned anything like this and she was almost scared to put it on. She knew damn well though that he didn't buy it for her to just never wear it so she put it around her neck. Took her a few tries to get the clasp by herself but once it was on, she moved over to the mirror to glance at it. It looked so elegant and she bit her lip with a smile as the light bounced off it. It was beautiful and she really couldn't believe it. 

She felt utterly spoiled and she knew that was his intention, the little shit. She couldn't wait for him to get home so she could try and show him just how much she appreciated them all. She scooped up all of the wrapping paper, moving into the kitchen to put it into the bin. When she grabbed the bin bag to do the same, something fell out of it onto the floor. She crouched and grabbed it, eyes reading her name scrawled on the front of an envelope. She moved to sit at one of the dining chairs as she opened it, revealing a birthday card. The front had a cartoon T-Rex on it, the text reading;

Girlfriend,

You give me a

T-Rextion!

An inelegant snort left her lips at the bad joke and she shook her head. She wished he was here so she could take the piss out of him for it. He and Tommy always did the bad jokes and she knew he would have found this hilarious. She opened up the card, surprised to see the entirety of the inside covered with writing, not just a simple birthday greeting. 

Hello love. 

Sorry I've missed another one of your birthdays. Can't wait to actually celebrate one with you in person, want to take you out for a nice meal. I hope you liked all your presents. I know you might be a bit miffed I spent so much, but I've got nothing else I'd rather spend my money on. Treating you isn't just for you but it's for me too. I like being able to take care of you and I want to be able to spoil you. Hopefully you won't be too mad. 

You'll be reading this eight months after I've written it. Weird that. I know for a fact that right now as you're reading it, I'll be missing you like mad. Honestly dreading going because of how much I'll miss you. Deployment last time was fucking miserable because of it. Don't think I'll ever get used to having someone back home waiting for me. It's a bit of a double edged sword but I wouldn't change it for the world. 

I hope you have a good birthday and make sure you're not locking yourself away for it. You don't have to spend it alone. Hopefully I'll be back soon enough. Can't wait to just wrap you in my arms again. Hate sleeping without you next to me now. 

Running out of space so I'll finish this up. There's so much I wish I could say but I'll settle with telling you that I love you. So much that I can't even put into words. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, Lottie. Thank you for loving a man like me. 

I love you and I'll see you soon, sweetheart.

Simon x

She wiped her eyes with a watery smile, standing to go and put the card up on the fireplace. While he wrote it before he left, it was nice to read it now. It made her feel a little closer to him and she was sure she'd read it a few more times before he ended up coming back. She hated having no contact at all. After putting her gifts in the appropriate places, she decided to start to get ready to go to Anne's. Despite Simon's absence, having his gifts and card and spending time with his family made her feel cared about and much less alone on her birthday. Maybe this birthday would be a good one. 

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: This one’s a little short, I really struggled to stretch this one out a bit.

Big love to those who have been reading this. I really appreciate all of you. I have a bunch of other Ghost stories I’m working on in the background as well as this one and I can’t wait to share even more with you.

The smile on Charlotte’s face was bright and airy as she chatted away to Simon about the book she’d been reading. The smile was fake though. Fake, fake, fake. She was trying to be brave, she really was. Not Simon level brave, she knew she’d never be able to achieve such a thing, but brave in her own way. She was proud of him for being up for selection and she knew without a doubt he’d pass with flying colours, but the idea of what he’d go through, the idea of being away from him with zero contact for almost an entire year was harrowing to her. 

She hadn't had to be alone since his last deployment and she may have some people around her now, but it was different. Simon leaving would be a different type of loneliness, one that would eat her alive even if she was surrounded by people. She couldn't be selfish though, he’d worked hard for this and she wasn't about to be a Debbie Downer about it. It was bad enough how upset she'd gotten when he’d told her and she still felt the guilt for that gnawing at her bones like a dog. 

She excused herself cheerfully to the kitchen to get another drink, the TV commenter rambling about their excitement for New Year fading into the background. They were at Tommy and Beth’s to celebrate New Year but with Simon leaving in only five days, it was getting harder and harder to keep up her happy facade. She poured herself another glass of red wine, taking two large gulps of it. She wasn’t drunk by any means but she certainly wasn't sober either. She didn't drink often but she felt like she needed it with all that was going on. 

“Alright, love?” Simon's gentle voice asked from the doorway. She was glad she was facing away from him, one hand clutching the counter so hard the bones in her finger ached. With the alcohol flooding her system, she was a little slower to react, slower to put her mask back on. She took a deep breath, shakily putting that smile back on her face before she turned around. 

“I’m fine, babe,” her words were easy, casual as she held her wine glass and gave him a pretty smile, yet he tilted his head, dark eyes scanning her face. She knew it was pointless to pretend with Simon because even though she didn't want to be, she was an open book to him. He was quiet for a moment, as was she, and she took another sip of her wine as she waited to see what would happen, hoping he’d let it go and they'd go back in the living room with everyone else. 

She’d never been part of as many family celebrations as she had since she met Simon but she was glad to be included. Tonight, however, didn't exactly go according to plan. Anne had kindly offered to take Joseph for the night so Tommy and Beth could have a break and so Beth could have a drink after being stone cold sober for nine months. She'd expressed milk for the little baby, enough that by the time she needed to breastfeed him again the alcohol would be fully out of her system. Tommy had hyped up the night to her and Simon, claiming it would be a riot, a party, the night wouldn't end. By ten, the pair of them were passed out on the couch together after only one drink, complete exhaustion taking over them. Joseph was currently dealing with colic so he wasn't sleeping. She knew being a parent must be hard but seeing her friends go through it was something else. 

Simon had rolled his eyes at the sight, muttering curses about being dragged out of his nice warm flat just for them to fall asleep on him. Didn't stop him from covering them up with blankets though and turning the TV a little lower so the celebrations on BBC wouldn't wake them. She hadn’t minded too much though. Sure she'd been happy to be invited and all but with her mood, it had been hard to try and socialise. It had been hard enough talking to Simon and trying to act like everything was fine. 

He moved over to her with slow steps and she leaned more against the counter, her hand curling more around the glass as tension wormed its way around her. Those deep amber eyes felt like they could see through her like a piece of glass and she swallowed thickly, unable to keep the eye contact. 

“I love you… you know that, right?” he asked carefully and she stared at the floor with a lump in her throat. She did know that, without even a doubt. And maybe she did have her moments where she’d question it after a lifetime of self esteem issues, but he made a point to make it known every single day. Whether it was his words or the little things he did for her, he made sure she felt loved no matter what. It was a nice feeling, a reassuring feeling, to know irrefutably that you're loved. 

“I know,” she murmured softly, eyes rasing to meet his soft, warm hues. He took another step then, right in front of her. 

“And you know that you’ll always come first, yeah? Always,” his eyes were firm as he said this, a pointed look shooting right though her. He’d told her many times since his confession about going for selection, told her that all she had to do was say the word and he wouldn't do it. It was terrifying to her, that she for some reason had that power over him. She didn't like it. She’d never in a million years make him leave his dreams behind because she was being an over emotional baby. 

“I know,” she echoed, giving him a tentative smile. Small, yet not fake this time. It seemed to relax him a little, some tension leaving his shoulders as he reached out, grabbing her wine glass and setting it on the counter. 

She squeaked when she was suddenly lifted and plonked on the counter too. It made her closer to his height like this, yet still shorter than him. He slotted between her legs easily, as if she was made to be moulded around him, his large hands cupping both her cheeks, thumbs swiping over the skin as he gazed down at her. She’d never been looked at the way Simon looked at her. Like she was some precious gem or made of gold. It made her heartbeat skyrocket every time he gave her that look and she was sure it was the same look she always gave him. 

He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, instead opting to lean down and capture her lips with his. They were soft, plush against hers as he slid a hand around to the back of her neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue massaging hers slowly, tenderly. Her hands wandered, sliding up his shirt and making him gasp into her mouth at her cold hands. She smiled into the kiss, settling her hands over his chest and enjoying the feeling of the steady thumping of his heart. When he broke the kiss, he didn't move away from her, his body still flush with hers as he smiled at her. He was so handsome when he smiled like that. 

“I know that it might not seem like it, but… I am proud of you. I have no doubts that you’ll get into the SAS,” she admitted as her fingers traced patterns on his skin. His eyes perked up ever so slightly at her words, his smile brightening.

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against hers and her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Yeah,” she smiled up at him. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the TV which had gotten louder as everyone on it chanted the countdown to New Year. 

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“Happy New Year, love,” Simon murmured affectionately before placing a long yet chaste kiss to her lips.

“Happy New Year,” she replied when he pulled away, desperately trying to ignore the burning sadness in her chest. It wasn't a happy new year when he wasn't going to be with her to enjoy it, but she didn't say that. Instead, the fake smile slipped back on her lips as she allowed him to wrap her in a hug.

Jan 7th

Charlotte was woken up by a large and warm hand stroking her face. 

“Wha…?” she blinked blearily, trying to get her bearings. She was absolutely shattered. She hadn't been able to get to sleep until 3 am because she knew in only a few hours that Simon would be leaving. It was the day. Now he was perched on the edge of the bed near her, fully clothed. It was still dark out and her eyes darted to the clock, seeing it was 4.30 am. She’d only been asleep an hour and a half but she knew Simon had to go soon. The dread that slapped her across the face woke her right up. 

She sat up abruptly and Simon shot her a worried glance. She’d told herself she had to be brave this morning, she could break down once he was gone, not a moment sooner. She wouldn't do that to him, he must already be nervous enough as it was, even if he tried to hide it. She’d seen how he'd been working out more vigorously, seeing him brushing up on his military tactics and warfare strategies by all the books he’d been burning through. He wanted this badly and she wasn't about to get in the way.

“Gotta go, sweetheart,” he whispered and she bit the inside of her cheek hard to stop herself from crying. She wondered if he’d even slept. she’d thought he’d been asleep when she lay there anxiously, stewing in her own thoughts. Maybe he’d been awake the whole time. Had he known she was awake too? 

“Okay,” she replied, trying her hardest to keep her voice level. He stood and she climbed out of bed, following after him to the living area. His duffel was near the front door and her breathing became shaky. She was trying her best to appear normal but those all seeing eyes of his were bearing her down into the ground. The only thing that soothed her was the fact it was obvious he was struggling too. Those dark eyes were shiny, strained, his jaw clenched tight as he looked at her. 

“I uh…” his voice cut off as it cracked and she felt her lower lip wobble. If he got emotional she wouldn't be able to help herself. He stepped forward, movements rushed, before he crushed her into a hug. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling like she was about to burst with the effort she put in to not cry in front of him. She clung onto him like a life raft and he did the same, a large hand pressing her head closer to his chest. His chest that was shaky and erratic.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he bit out, voice broken and raw and she couldn't handle it. 

The tears leaked from her eyes and she was sure the vein in her neck was bulging from how hard she was suppressing the sob that tried to work its way out of her. She wanted to tell him that she’d miss him too but she knew the second her mouth opened that she’d unravel so she nodded, hoping he'd get the point. He held her tighter for a second, a kiss being pressed firmly to the side of her head before he moved away. He cupped her cheeks and she couldn't look away from those intense eyes.

“I love you,” he implored, as if begging her to believe him even though she already did. 

“I love you too,” her voice was choked but she couldn't not say it back to him, it was impossible for her. 

He swallowed thickly, the movement making his Adam’s apple bob up and down before he rested his forehead on hers. She tried to soak up the closeness greedily, knowing soon enough it would be gone. Ever so gently, his nose rubbed hers in a gesture that made her heart still completely. Her breathing was ragged, held on by a thread. His lips connected with hers softly yet firm as he held her there against him before he moved away, glancing at the clock and he stepped away from her.

“Gonna be late if I don’t get goin’,” he frowned, looking like he didn't want to leave. She felt so weak that she almost begged him to stay. Almost. 

“Good luck out there, not that you need it,” she tried to sound confident as she smiled at him but her voice was thin and wobbly. He nodded, eyes glued to her for a moment longer before he turned away and grabbed his duffel bag. 

“See you soon, yeah?” he asked as he opened the door, looking over his shoulder at her. Her chest ached like she’d been sucker punched but she nodded, giving him another watery smile.

“See you soon, Simon,” she replied quietly. His dark eyes were blazing with something as he stared at her and she wondered just what was going through his head. Was he at war with leaving her or going? He forced himself to look away, stepping out of the door before shutting it behind him and suddenly, the apartment felt very, very cold. 

Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the pitiful noise that left her and she tried her best to keep it together. She wished she could be strong like Simon, wished she wasn't so fragile. She jumped out of her skin when the door flew open, Simon coming back in hurriedly. His duffel hit the floor with a thud and before she could even fathom what was happening, he rushed her, lips desperately seeking hers. She fisted his top, squeaking as he almost lifted her off her feet by her head as he cupped her cheeks. 

She was suddenly sandwiched between him and the wall as he pressed his entire body along the length of hers, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth like he needed to memorise it all. When he pulled away, she felt her lungs burn with lack of oxygen as she blinked up at him in surprise. He was panting himself, eyes wild as he stared down at her. 

“I love you… be safe,” that was all he said, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose before he turned around, grabbed his duffel and once more was out of the door. She was completely baffled, unsure of what the hell just happened. Her lips tingled and she raised a hand to them as she blinked dazed. She was so dazed that her tears didn't come on for at least an hour. 

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Nineteen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Some good ol’ Christmas drama and also some very protective Simon.

Nine Inch Nails - In This Twilight

Watch the sun

As it crawls across a final time

And it feels like

Like it was a friend

If it's watching us

And the world we set on fire

Do you wonder

If it feels the same?

And the sky is filled with light

Can you see it?

All the black is really white

If you believe it

As your time is running out

Let me take away your doubt

You can find a better place

In this twilight

Dust to dust

Ashes in your hair remind me

What it feels like

And I won't feel again

Night descends

Could I have been a better person

If I could only

Do it all again

But the sky is filled with light

Can you see it?

All the black is really white

If you believe it

And the longing that you feel

You know none of this is real

We will find a better place

In this twilight

Simon had sworn he’d never hit a woman, not after watching his father take his hand to his mother far too many times, yet right now, his resolve was getting weaker and weaker.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” he asked harshly, dark eyes burning like coal as he glared at the woman at his door. The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously and she put one of her hands on her hip.

“I don't know who you think you are, I’m not here for you!” she snapped and Simon’s sanity was hanging onto dear life with a fragile piece of thread. 

“And I don't know who the fuck you think you are! Turnin’ up here like you have the fuckin’ right!” he hissed back and his hands gripped the door handle so tightly that the metal groaned under his touch. 

“I’m her mother,” she growled.

“You’re nothin’ but a fuckin’ surrogate!” he bellowed, his composure well and truly gone. “Bein’ a mother is more than pushin’ her out your dirty fuckin’ minge, you daft cunt! You’ve got no right to come here on Christmas fuckin’ Eve to ruin her day. It’ll be a cold day in hell when I let you near her,” he seethed and he was sure his face said it all because she had the sense to take a step back. 

As if Charlotte’s fucking mother turned up at his doorstep like this. He was glad his girl was at work because god only knows what this would have done to her and he had no fucking clue how the bitch found out where she was. The woman pursed her lips before pulling an envelope out of her coat pocket.

“Will you at least give her this?” she asked him and he snatched it off her, seeing Charlotte’s name scribbled on the front of it. He wanted to tell her no, wanted to set the fucking thing on fire so she never had to see whatever lay inside of it but he knew he couldn't do that. This wasn't his place, wasn't his right to take away from her, so he just nodded with a clenched jaw.

“Fine, now fuck off and don’t come back,” he spat harshly. 

He wished he felt better when the twat was gone but he didn't feel any more relaxed at all. He sat heavily on the couch, glaring at the envelope on the coffee table. He wanted to tear it open and read it, to see if he should allow her to read it or not. What if she was grovelling for another chance? Lottie and her soft, bleeding heart would do it, he fucking knew she would and she didn't deserve to get hurt again and he knew that's exactly what would happen. It's what always happened with useless parents like them. 

What if she wasn't begging for forgiveness she’d never earn though? What if she was being horrible? What if whatever was in that envelope would crush his girl's sweet soul? The very thought made his chest burn and he snatched the letter off the coffee table, leg bouncing as he tried to shake himself out of the anger he found himself stewing in. He really didn't want to invade her privacy, didn't want to take the choice away from her to know what was in it, but he loathed that he had no idea just what the letter said or what it would do to her. 

He was broken out of his thoughts by the girl in question coming through the front door. Despite it being Christmas Eve, she’d volunteered to work so some of her colleagues with kids could have the day off, always the softie she was. She’d told him not to walk her back because he wasn't at base and she didn't want him turning up in the cold for her. He had been planning to anyway and then the woman from hell had turned up and ruined it all. 

“Hey,” she grinned at him, shaking her hair and letting some of the snow shake out of it before she took her coat off and hung it up. When he didn't answer her or greet her in a way he typically would, her face turned into a frown as she slowly started to walk over.

“What's up?” she asked warily and he swallowed thickly, rubbing his free hand over his face.

“Sit with me, love,” he murmured, trying his hardest to make himself sound softer than he felt on the inside. Wasn't her fault he was this pissed off. She walked over carefully, perching on the couch next to him as she eyed him suspiciously. He couldn't look at her and he cleared his throat, handing out the envelope. She took it with tentative hands, brows furrowed as she read her name.

“Your… your mum turned up,” he bit out and her head snapped to him, eyes wide and confused. 

“What… how…?” She looked absolutely bewildered and he still had no idea either other than perusing the electoral roll to find out where she was living. 

“Dunno but… she left that,” he gestured with his head to the letter now in her hands and her eyes dragged back to it, watching it now as if it was a venomous snake. 

“Do you… do you know what's in it? Did you open it?” she asked him and he couldn't get a read on her tone. 

“No… Wanted to, won’t lie to you but… it's not my place,” he muttered, wanting to be truthful with her. She nodded and blew out a shaky breath. She looked like she didn't know what to do with herself.

“Will you read it to me?” she asked after a long moment and his heart dropped at the notion. 

“What if it's… I can’t read some bullshit to you, love. I won’t be nasty to you,” he frowned with a vehement shake of his head.

“It won't be you, Simon. It's her. I just…  don't think I can read it myself but I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don't know what it is,” she pleaded and he hated how he could never deny her anything. He took the letter, opening it with a heavy feeling of dread weighing down his stomach. His eyes scanned the page rapidly to see what he was getting into and the feeling of dread intensified as he squeezed his eyes shut with another shake of his head.

“Love… don't make me read this to you, please. Let's just bin it,” he begged, full blown pleading with her because he couldn't do this to her, he really couldn't. He wanted to fucking find that bitch of a woman and cave her face in, woman be damned. He didn't care, not when she dared to write such a vile note to his girl. Her face paled at his words and his heart squeezed when she shook her head.

“Please… I need to know, I’ll be okay,” she reached out and put her hand on his leg, looking at him with those sad and wide eyes. The ache in his chest was so intense he started to worry he might be on the verge of a medical emergency. But he did as she asked because she’d asked and he could never say no. He took a deep inhale, steeling himself as he started to read the letter.

“Charlotte… your dad’s dead,” he started, unable to look at her face but he heard her breathing falter, felt her hand grip his leg tighter. He really didn't want to continue but he knew she wanted to hear it, maybe on some level she needed to. Maybe this horrible letter was exactly what she needed to move on fully from her awful family. 

“I hope you know it’s your fault. You took off years of his life when you were born… wretched little thing you were. Probably still are. My biggest regret in life was not gettin’ an abortion as soon as I found out I was pregnant,” he continued, his hand shaking slightly as he held the letter. He peered at her, brows furrowing at her glazed over expression as she stared off at nothing. When he didn't continue after a few minutes, she dragged her unseeing eyes over to him.

“Just get it over with, please,” she whispered and her broken tone absolutely ruined him. 

“Your dad left because of you but I always thought he’d come back to me someday, and now because of you he's gone. You killed him. When I looked you up I found out you were livin’ with someone and I don't know who this Simon Riley is but I feel sorry for him… You don't deserve him, you don't deserve to be happy… You're nothin’ but a disease who poisons everythin’ you touch and you deserve nothin’ but loneliness- I can’t, I’m not readin’ the rest. We should fuckin’ burn it,” he bit out, the lump in his throat getting bigger by the second. 

He felt like he’d betrayed her somehow by reading those words to her, like he was the one saying that. Feeding into her own insecurities like that was a dirty move from her mother and he didn't think he’d ever wanted to hurt another human so badly in his life. Said a lot that since his dad had evoked plenty of feelings in him. Charlotte jumped up suddenly, so suddenly it made him jump and he watched with wide eyes and she hurried off to the bathroom tearfully. 

“Lottie, wait!” He called out but it was too late. The door slammed shut and he followed after her, lingering outside the door. The sobs she was letting out gutted him and he squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched tightly.

“Charlotte… love… don't hide away from me. Let me in,” he begged. He didn't want her alone and hurting like this, he wanted to hold her, to try and take away all the horrible pain she was feeling. 

“No, I’ll… I’ll be fine,” she cried and he rested his forehead against the cold, wooden door.

“Love-” he started but got cut off by her frantic and upset voice.

“It’s fine, I know… I know it's stupid to be upset, I knew she was a twat. But I…” she didn't need to finish her heartbroken words because he knew it well enough himself. She thought maybe this time was different. Maybe this time her mum had come to her senses and things would change. Been there, done that and wore the fucking t-shirt with his dad. His heart ached for the poor girl who still yearned for a mother's love, even after all this time. 

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart. It's normal to be upset. Let me in, yeah? Please, love,” he pleaded and he felt relief sweep through him when the door unlocked. 

He moved off the door as it opened and she stood there still in her work uniform with tears streaking down her face. His face fell even more looking at her and he wasted no time in scooping her into his arms, holding her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his middle, hands bunched into fists in the back of his top. Her face was pressed into his chest as she tried to use him to stifle her sobs but it didn't work very well.

“You're alright, love, I’ve got you,” he murmured as he stroked her hair. He held her for a good long while as she cried it out. Eventually, she pulled away with a red and puffy face looking a little out of it. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked tentatively. She shook her head, wiping at her eyes quickly.

“Nothing to talk about. It just reinforced what I already knew,” she shrugged. It hurt him seeing her like this and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before moving around her. He put the plug in the bath, turning the hot tap on.

“What are you doing?” her question was a bit of an obvious one and he knew it wasn't so much what he was doing, clearly running a bath, but more so why.

“We’re gonna get a nice hot bubble bath and enjoy Christmas Eve. I won't let her ruin it for you,” he insisted and he meant it too. 

This was their first Christmas together and from what he’d put together from things she’d said, she didn't really do Christmas before. Not as a kid when her mother didn't care enough to pretend Santa was a thing and then never really bothered as an adult. He wanted to change that for her. His childhood had been rough and some Christmases were like any other day. Sometimes though, his mother had tried her hardest to at least get a tree or to get him and Tommy something if his dad would allow it. Fucker would always still ruin it though with his yelling and drinking and he hated Christmas ‘cause it used to end with his mum being beaten black and blue. It was different now and he always went to his mum’s for Christmas with Tommy. Lottie would be coming this year and with the new addition of little baby Joseph, it was supposed to be a special one. He wouldn't let that fucking slag ruin it all. 

Charlotte gave him a watery smile and all he wanted to do was wrap her up and cuddle her. He put a lot of the lavender bubble bath in that she liked, making sure the water was hot like she liked it, even if it made his balls ache at first. He turned the tap off once it was all done, stripping off and Charlotte did the same. He helped her into the bath and she let out a relaxed sigh when she sunk into the hot water. 

After she’d scooched forward, he climbed in behind her. Was tight fit but she shifted so he was able to put his legs either side of her. His chest was pressed against her back and he smoothed his hands down her arms before grasping her hands and linking his fingers with hers. She relaxed into him and he rested his head on her shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmured and she smiled softly, a little brighter than before.

“I love you too,” she replied, turning slightly to show him just how pretty that sweet smile was. He kissed her cheek, making her smile widen and he couldn't get over how much he fucking loved her. 

It was quiet between them as he washed her, his touch light and gentle as if she was made of glass and he was scared she might shatter. They wound up staying in the bath until the water got cold and then he helped dry her and get her in her pyjamas. Didn't take long before he bundled her up in a blanket on the couch, hot chocolate on the coffee table as it cooled down for her. 

He grabbed the small metal bin from next to the couch, emptying it before setting it down on the floor in front of her. She looked at him questioningly as he moved to disconnect the smoke detector and then he sat down, handing her that fucking letter and a lighter. She eyed them for a moment before looking at him, taking the items from his hand. 

“You need to burn it, get some closure,” he murmured. She took a deep breath and nodded, looking a little more relaxed after the love he'd tried to shower her with. She looked so serious as she looked at the letter, brows furrowed slightly and her lips pursed. She looked like she was having some internal conflict but then nodded to herself, coming to some sort of resolution. 

She flicked the lighter, sparking the flame before bringing it to the corner of the letter. Once it caught, she dropped it into the bin and both of them leaned over slightly to watch as it burned. He hoped it would be cathartic for her and he didn't speak until the letter was nothing but ash. He turned to her, causing her to angle her body closer to him in response and he cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her soft skin as he gazed at her pretty pink cheeks. 

“You deserve the world, Charlotte,” he breathed, a mere whisper in the room. She looked away, brows pinching a little and as her mouth opened to protest him, the hand on her face slid over her mouth and she blinked up at him with big, round eyes. 

“I don't care what that bitch said, it's bollocks. You're the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met. You deserve nothin' but good things. And I'm not sayin' I'm a good thing but… but I'm tryin’ to be… for you,” he admitted, watching her eyes soften right before him, those blue hues sparkling at him like the reflection of the sun in the ocean. His hand moved from her mouth to reveal a beautiful smile, a smile he wished was on her face all the time. It was so radiant and warm that it felt like the light seeped into every pore in his body, filling him up completely.

“You are a good thing… you're the best thing to happen to me,” she said simply, as if her words didn't mean the world to him, didn't make his chest feel like it expanded. He knew logically that it wasn't a hard task given how everything in her life had been shit, but still, hearing her say that touched him deeply. He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers in a chaste kiss before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. It made her smile again and his stomach swarmed with butterflies.

“Let's get you to bed, ay? Got a lot goin’ on tomorrow, we should get a good night's sleep,” he murmured. She nodded, no doubt agreeing as they both knew it would take a lot out of them going to the Riley household and putting up with Tommy all day. 

She grabbed her hot chocolate that he’d completely forgotten about and before he could tell her they’d go to bed when she was done with it, she started chugging it like a student on freshers week. He watched on in amusement as she finished the whole thing off, some whipped cream around her mouth giving her a funny moustache when she moved the cup.

“Fuckin’ hell, what am I gonna do with you?” he snorted and he got a cheeky smile in return. He reached out and wiped the cream off her top lip, sucking it off his thumb as he shook his head at her and slapped her thigh through the blanket she was wrapped in.

“Up, bed,” he ordered. She rolled her eyes with a playful pout and a huff, standing and carefully setting the blanket back over the couch. 

He was exhausted by the time they were both tangled in bed yet he struggled to go to sleep, even as Charlotte snored softly wrapped around him like a koala. It was their first Christmas together and he was a little nervous about his gift for her. They’d both agreed to only one gift each. It was Lottie’s idea, telling him that she couldn't really afford to get him a lot of things on her wage and knowing he got paid more than her. She didn't feel comfortable with him showering her with stuff if she couldn't return it. Ruined his plans a bit since he had been intent on spoiling her, but he got where she was coming from and she’d been pretty worked up about it. 

He’d put a lot of thought into this one gift and while most of him thought she'd like it, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his father, telling him she’d hate it. He tried his best to ignore it. Between his nerves, his excitement and Lottie’s cunt of a mother showing up and causing problems, his brain was a fried mess. He didn't end up getting to sleep until past midnight.

He woke up before her, pleased that his body clock was still working fine as he got up at 5 am. He’d planned on getting up first because he wanted to make a proper breakfast for them. First, he worked out with The Dillinger Escape Plan blasting through his headphones. Whenever he woke up before her, he tried to get the workout in. It had been every day, even weekends when she wasn't in his life and he didn't want to let himself go. He had to be more prepared now he was going for selection for the SAS and he really needed to pick his routine back up. 

After he worked out, he got her present from his hiding spot on top of the kitchen cupboards. He knew she couldn't reach there so it had been safe. It was wrapped in silver and green wrapping paper to the best of his abilities, which wasn't much, but he’d put a pretty green bow on it, hoping it would help it look better. He slipped it under the tree besides the other boxes there. One for his mum, one for Tommy, one for Beth and of course a few for little baby Joseph. Simon couldn't help spoil him even if he wouldn't have a fucking clue what was going on. 

Then there was one with his name sprawled in pretty writing on a tag. He’d caught sight of it a couple of times now but he knew to leave well enough alone. If Lottie caught him eyeing it she’d probably shiv him with a kitchen fork for trying to spoil his gift. It was a small and almost flat box, wrapped in shiny black paper. She’d wrapped it meticulously for someone who didn't really do Christmas, so meticulously that he’d convinced her to wrap the ones for the others too. 

When he was done, it was still only 7 am and while he wanted to get breakfast done before his angel woke up, he knew it was still early and he didn't want to wake her up too soon. He wound up sitting on the couch for a bit to read, deciding on starting food at 8. He was sprawled on the couch reading the ultimate collection of Edgar Allen Poe after Lottie recommended it, surprised himself by liking it. The one he was on currently was The Masque of the Red Death. When it reached 8 am, he put his book away and wandered into the kitchen, making a mental catalogue of all he needed to do. 

He went all out, a proper full English but switching the fried eggs for scrambled because he knew she liked them better. He tried to be all fancy about it, using a toast rack to put the toast in the middle of the dining table, made the tea in a little teapot that his mum had given him, had the milk in a matching jug and sugar in a little bowl. 

He’d been pondering on how to wake her, feeling a little bad about disturbing her sleep and knowing most people didn't feel like eating the second they jumped out of bed. He hadn't needed to worry though because just as he was putting the cutlery on the table, a sleepy Charlotte waltzed in, rubbing her eyes with a yawn. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going to the table set all nice and proper and then going to him.

“You made breakfast?” she asked with a curious smile and he couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips.

“I did, Merry Christmas, love,” he moved over to her, ushering her to sit in the chair and scooching it in for her. She giggled, looking up at him as he moved around the table and sat in his own seat.

“Merry Christmas. You made a real fancy breakfast, I don't think I've seen a toast rack outside of work,” she smirked and he felt the tips of his ears burning as he looked down, grabbing his knife and fork to distract himself. 

“Wanted it to be special for you,” he admitted and when he chanced a glance at her, her chin was propped up on her hand as she gave him a look. It was dreamy and moon eyed and in that moment, there was no way he could deny she was in love with him. It made him feel far too many things all at once. 

“It’s special because I’m spending it with you,” she murmured and her words only furthered his intense emotions. Why he felt a lump in his throat was beyond him, he was happy so why did he feel like he was on the verge of tears? He didn't do tears. 

He cleared his throat, trying to aggressively rid himself of the lump. He wasn't sure what his face was saying to her but he knew she saw something because she reached out, laying her hand over his on the table. He looked back at her then and she gave him a warm smile.

“I love you,” she said softly. Was mad how three simple words could crack him in half completely. A choked noise left his lips that only left him more confused and his eyes widened in horror as he felt it coming. He snatched his hand away, his chair scraping horribly against the wooden floor of the dining area as he went to flee. A tiny hand clamped hard around his wrist though as he stood and he looked down to see Charlotte looking at him carefully.

“You asked me last night to not hide from you and I didn't. I let you in,” she pointed out.

Her words were gentle and soft but her eyes felt penetrating and he knew what she was asking him, pleading with him not to shut her out. He wanted to run off because he didn't want to be like this around her, it was fucking embarrassing, but he couldn't deny her anything when her eyes looked at him so pleadingly. How could he expect her to open up to him if he wouldn't do the same? He fell back into his seat with a thump and he was only glad no tears were leaking from his eyes.

“I uh… I don't know what's up with me,” he bit out and his voice sounded raw as he forced it around the growing lump in his throat. She gave him a sympathetic smile before she stood, moving over to where he sat. She moved to straddle him and he knew it mustn’t be comfortable doing that on a dining chair but she didn't seem to care. She settled against him nicely, her soft hands grabbing his face on either side and he was powerless to look away from her. 

“You feel overwhelmed?” she asked in a soft voice, like talking to a spooked animal. He nodded, not wanting to risk talking in fear of the dam fully breaking. Her thumbs swiped over his cheeks and his dark eyes swept over her face.

“I feel overwhelmed too. It's not a bad feeling, like I’m not… sad. But it's a lot, to finally have a Christmas with someone I love. Today's gonna be the first time I have a Christmas dinner,” she admitted shyly and his heart dropped a little at her words. He knew she hadn't done much but to not even have a Christmas dinner was bonkers to him. His hands smoothed her thighs before settling on her hips, squeezing them lightly. 

“I know I’m not sad but I… got emotional, I guess. Still don't know how I got so lucky to have you in my life,” he murmured, wanting to get it off his chest. She nodded, her hand moving to around his neck where one of them toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I could list all the reasons if you want?” she asked cheekily and he rolled his eyes with a snort. It was all the ammunition she needed it seemed. 

“You're ridiculously handsome, like it's really unfair how you just look perfect even when you've just rolled out of bed,” she started and he ducked his head shyly as she watched him. “You’ve got a massive dick and know exactly how to use it,” she grinned impishly with her brows wiggling for emphasis. 

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed in amusement but she wasn't done.

“You're stupidly brave, I have no idea how you do any of the shit you do for work. I certainly don't have it in me,” she shook her head before moving an arm back to his front, laying her hand over his thumping heart. “You have a heart of gold, even if you don't see it. You literally glued your family back together after everything they went through because you love them so much. You're always thinking of other people and what you can do for them. You're way more selfless than you realise,” she breathed and he swallowed thickly, the grip on her hips tightening a little. 

He never thought himself a good man although he was trying his best. Always trying his best as the shadow of his father haunted him, always trying to be different. Her eyes softened as her hand travelled up his chest, neck and then his face, taking his jaw much like he had done to her many times. He could only imagine how comical it must look from her view with how small her hand was. She made him look at her, face serious as her blue hues danced across his features. 

“You take such good care of me and you do it without complaining. I know I have my issues and they probably won't ever fully go away but… you've helped me overcome so much. You've made me realise that… that I do deserve to be loved. That I’m not broken and what happened wasn't my fault. For the first time ever I feel loved and I'm learning to accept it,” she admitted tearfully and Simon grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down, face buried in his neck as he held her tightly. Wasn't so much for her although he was definitely trying to comfort her, but more so because those tears that had been threatening to fall had finally gone over the edge at those heartfelt words. Knowing he’d made her feel that way was more than overwhelming and if he died right now, he’d die happy that he’d at least allowed her to understand she was worthy of love. 

He used the hand not cradling her head to swipe at his eyes quickly, not wanting her to see him so emotional. He really hadn't expected Christmas to be so emotional for them. He hadn't known what to say in response and he was sure his tightened throat wouldn't allow him to anyway. She didn't seem to mind, didn't seem to need a response as they just held each other for a moment.

“We should eat before it all gets too cold,” she murmured into his neck, placing a sweet kiss to his skin before pulling away. Despite his effort for breakfast he wouldn't have minded it if it had all been spoiled after her words. He smiled at her, pulling her down for a sweet kiss before allowing her to get up and sit back down. He felt his manly ego inflate at every pleased noise she made as she scoffed his food like she’d never eaten in her life. It was such a primal feeling, to feed his woman, to satisfy her that way, to take care of her. When she was done and was sipping her tea, he stood and grabbed the dishes.

“Siiiimon,” she whined, giving him a dirty look.

“Nope, don’t care. It’s Christmas and I wanna do the dishes, so shush and drink your tea,” he huffed, earning a playful scoff from her before an obnoxiously loud slurping noise hit his ears. She kept it up the entire time he washed the dishes and pans and he felt like he deserved a medal for not paying it any mind or giving her a reaction. 

“Can I give you your present yet?” she asked eagerly the second he turned around. He wasn't shocked that she was more excited to give gifts than to receive them but he couldn't say he wasn't curious about what she got him. 

“Only ‘cause you're so cute when you're excited,” he snorted and she let out a little excited noise, jumping off the chair and bounding over to the tree. He was a little more casual with his stride as he went over, perching on the couch beside it and watching her as she sat on the floor. 

She snatched his gift before shoving it at him. He could see the excitement swirling behind her eyes but also nervousness and he knew exactly how that felt. He took it, feeling somewhat awkward at her watching him so intently. He’d always hated that, when people just stare at you when you open a gift. He'd make an exception for her though even if he did feel out of place. He carefully ripped the wrapping paper, feeling a little bad at ruining something that looked so pretty and then tossed it into the bin next to him. He’d already known it was a small flat box but he could see now it was black and velvet. He cracked it open slowly to reveal a simple silver round pendant. There was no chain with it, just the pendant and he recognised the engraving on it easily as coordinates. 

N 53° 29' 6.967"

W 2° 13' 56.4609"

He took the pendant out carefully, so delicate as if he was trying to disarm a bomb. His eyes drifted from it to Lottie who was watching him with eagle eyes. 

“It's uh… the coordinates… for the bus stop where we met,” she explained, looking slightly sheepish like she thought it was stupid as her cheeks flushed pink. He was speechless for a moment, eyes darting back to the engraving. 

The bus stop. Such a stupid place yet he’d met her there, laid his eyes on her and fell in love in an instant, bound to her forever. If he’d have sat at any other bus stop, and there were plenty in the area, he’d have missed her. It was an uncomfortable thought to him, to think of missing her by such little distance, ships passing in the night. She wouldn't be here with him right now, he wouldn't feel so complete and happy. He’d go back to being an empty shell and honestly, he couldn't even remember what that felt like which was even more terrifying. He didn't want to go back to that. Choosing that bus stop had changed the course of his life forever in the best way possible. His lips curled into a smile as he lay his soft eyes on her. It was such a sentimental gift and he knew he’d keep it safe always. Everytime he thought he couldn't love her more, she proved otherwise. 

“I love it, Lottie… thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out and grabbing her hand from her seat in front of him on the floor. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand and a bright smile lit up her face.

“You really like it? It’s supposed to go on your dog tags, that's why there's no chain,” she explained, looking so happy that he liked the gift. He pulled the dog tags around his neck over his head, attaching the pendent with no hesitation. He’d started wearing them at home more at Lottie’s request and he was pretty sure it was only because she found them sexy. He thumbed his tags with the pendant, an overwhelming warmth blooming inside of him before he slipped them back on. It felt like a way to have her with him no matter what and considering he’d be gone for a while with no contact, it meant the world to him. 

“I don't even know what to say, sweetheart. I… I love it,” he said sincerely, feeling like he could never put into words his gratitude. As usual, she didn't need his words though, smiling so pretty at him, eyes shining with happiness. 

“I’m glad you like it,” she beamed. 

He gestured with his head to her gift under the tree since she was closest to it and she grinned, picking it up quickly. She looked shocked by the weight of it, turning her eyes at him suspiciously as she hefted it. She tore at the paper and as the front was revealed to her, her hand stopped mid rip, eyes widening like saucers as she stared at it. She looked like she’d malfunctioned for a moment, unmoving and unblinking before she turned those wide and watery eyes to him and he felt like he’d been punched in the throat again. 

“Simon…” her voice wavered and she blinked rapidly to stave off her tears.

“I know… I know it can’t ever replace the one you lost, but I… I know how much those stories meant to you and maybe this one can be a stand in. It’ll still remind you of the librarian and what she did for you,” he rambled nervously as she turned back to look at the leatherbound book of the Grimm’s fairy tales. She inhaled a shaky breath, tearing the rest of the paper off with more care before she cracked it open, eyeing the scribble he’d left for her inside the front page with damp eyes. He’d never have thought of defiling a book like that but she’d mentioned in the past about how romantic she found it when she’d come across an old book with a love note in the front. He hadn’t been sure what to say, not wanting to be too sappy, so he’d settled with something simple.

‘Grimm stories for my Grim girl. 

All my love,

Simon’

A distant echo of their first encounter at the bus stop all that time ago. He’d made sure to get a fucking fancy one, leatherbound and embossed, edges of the pages gold. She flicked through the pages with a sniffle, stopping at Little Red Riding Hood and he remembered how she read that one to him when he was deployed. She stared at the pages for a moment before closing the book with a gentle thud and he watched warily as she got up and went into the bedroom. 

He wondered where she was taking the book, if he’d find it on her nightstand just like her old one had been back at her old place. She came back out after a few minutes, wiping her eyes as she padded over to him. He stood up reflexively and she made a beeline for him, wrapping her arms around his middle. He sunk into her, one hand splayed on her back to hold her as close as possible as the other cradled her head.

“Thank you… that’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten,” she admitted with a muffled voice against his chest. He didn't doubt it knowing her previous company and he gave her a squeeze.

“Wanted to get you somethin’ special, that meant somethin’,” he murmured as his fingers toyed with her hair. He’d sat there for ages trying to come up with ideas, none of which felt special enough until this idea popped into his head. She moved her head, arms still around him as she peered up at him. 

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world to call you mine, Simon Riley,” she smiled and he could have melted into a puddle. He’d hardly agree with her but he couldn't argue without being a hypocrite, so instead he leaned down and claimed her lips with his. She pressed closer to him, standing on her tiptoes a little as she kissed him back firmly, insistently. If they didn't have places to be he’d have taken her back to bed. After plundering her mouth thoroughly, he pulled away feeling breathless. 

“Shall we get ready to go to mum's then?” he asked hoarsely. Her lips curled into a self satisfied smile, knowing the effect she had on him.

“Okay,” she leaned up to give him one last kiss before she untangled from him. He watched her go into the bedroom and he stayed there for a moment, hands going to his tags through his top as he took a few deep breaths. 

She thought she was the lucky one but it was him that was lucky. She’d saved him, brought him back to life, giving him a reason to live and not just exist. She was everything to him and he’d never take that for granted. He wanted her and he wanted her forever, wanted her longer than that. He wanted to spend his life trying to be a good man for her, to keep showing her she should be loved and he could do that well. He had more than enough love for her and he knew no matter what, that would never change.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eighteen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

While I did try and do my research, I just want to remind you all that I know fuck all about the military lmaoooo

Also, fun fact; in the UK the word fanny doesn't mean ass like it does in the US. It actually means female genitals lolololol

Simon was distracted and it made guilt bloom in his stomach. Lottie had planned a nice day out for them for Bonfire Night and here he was, a million miles away in his head. He had been since the day before when his Commanding Officer had called him into the office and broke the news. He’d been excited at first, a deep sense of pride filling him so much he thought he might explode. He’d wanted this for so long and now it was within reach, his dreams finally able to become a reality. But then he’d thought about Charlotte, thought about what it meant for their relationship, thought about how it would change things, thought about how this might be too much for her and she might say fuck it and walk away. 

All of his excitement got sucked right out of him and he’d been stuck in his head since the day before, worry tearing him apart from the inside out at how to break the news. And she’d noticed something was off with him, of course she did. She noticed how he was more withdrawn, more distant and when he’d given her lies as she asked if he was okay, she’d given up with words and settled for just being close to him, trying to show him she cared and she was there for him and it made him feel like a bastard. 

They were walking hand in hand, Lottie pressed against his side as they made their way through Platt Fields park where the bonfire was. She’d asked him if he’d ever been to a firework display and he’d told her hadn't been to a proper one but back in Gorton some of the kids would light a bonfire at the fields out back. He and Tommy would sneak over to watch it as they let some fireworks off but it always ended with the fire brigade being called and sometimes even the police. She hadn't ever been to one either and she thought it would be nice for them to go. But now he was here and he couldn't smile to save his life and he knew he was casting a dark and gloomy cloud over something she thought was special and he hated it. 

He knew he’d have to tell her about it when they got back, he knew he couldn't last another day like this keeping it from her. It made him feel sick, not knowing how she’d react and even just knowing things would change even if she was okay with it. It almost felt like he had to sacrifice in order to get what he’d wanted for the longest time and it was an uncomfortable feeling. For so long now he’d been in a comfortable part of his life where everything seemed to be going great and he wished he could have what he wanted without things changing with them. 

They'd watched the firework display silently, Charlotte glancing at him worriedly every few minutes and making his guilt increase. Everyone else was in high spirits, kids running around yelling ‘remember, remember the fifth of November’, everyone just enjoying themselves. Once it was over, they stayed around the bonfire for a little while longer before she turned to him.

“Let's go home,” she gave him a soft smile but he saw right through it. She was worried about him but she was also disappointed that her planned day didn't go as she wanted it to. He really wished his CO had given him the news after Bonfire Night instead. 

“Alright, love,” he murmured, getting tugged along by his hand and she led him out of the park. 

The wait for the bus was rather uncomfortable. He knew she was dying to ask him what was up with him again but she didn't want to push it since it was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. He was trying to will some confidence within himself for when they got back. He needed to rip it off like a fucking plaster and just tell her so he knew how it would all go. It was no good ruminating in his mind, thinking over every possibility of how the conversation would go. 

When they got back to theirs, they shrugged off their coats and hung them up and he could feel her eyes burning into him before she meandered off to the kitchen. He heard the kettle boil and he blew out a deep breath, rolling his shoulders before he walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it. She came back with two steaming cups and settled them on the coffee table and he hated how she hovered uncertainly like she wasn't sure if he even wanted her around him.

“Come here, love. There's somethin’ I need to talk to you about,” he uttered, trying to keep the nerves out of his tone but failing. This has been his plan for years, the goal he'd set his sights on long ago. Now he was there, now it was in reach and he wanted to share that with her despite his nerves. He wanted to be happy about it.

“That sounds… ominous,” she murmured with a frown, anxiously twisting her fingers in front of her. 

He could see her brain was probably going through every bad thing he could be about to tell her, no doubt settling on some bullshit about him leaving her. As if he ever would. So he held his hand out to her, looking at her with warm and expectant eyes that made her relax a little. She padded over, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to sit in his lap. She watched him warily and he settled his hands on her hips, squeezing them affectionately.

“I uh… I'm gonna be trying out for the SAS,” he admitted. 

He knew it would be tough going and yet he knew he'd fucking thrive there. He'd known for a long while that was where he wanted to end up but he didn't have someone else to think about then. Now he had a girlfriend to think about, things would change. He'd be gone for training for a while, his base would be different and a lot further away. Ultimately, he knew it would mean less time with her, a fact that had bothered him deeply since the day before after his Commanding Officer put his paperwork through for him. He was eligible now to try out, had his CO’s blessing and approval, had his fucking backing. But he'd been tying himself in knots over it because of how it would change things with them. 

It had been a hard choice for him to settle on, despite it being his dream for a while, because he didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to upset her, didn't want the relationship to fall apart with more distance and time between them. He wanted this though, he really fucking wanted this and it felt like his entire military career had been building up to this moment for him. He'd try and convince her and if she still wasn't happy about it, then he'd give it all up. Of course he would, he'd give up anything if she asked him to. But he would plead his case first because he did genuinely want this. And even though it would be rough going with all the changes, he knew they could make it work. He'd always make it work when it came to her. 

“Isn't that where they simulate torture?!” She asked mortified, brows pinching together. He wondered how the fuck she knew that, what she'd been reading. He was well aware of RTI training and it wasn’t something he was exactly looking forward to but he’d put in the fucking work because he was good at what he did.

“Yeah… it is,” he sighed, not wanting to lie to her.

“Simon…” She started, a panicked edge to her tone that softened his hard lump of a heart.

“I'll be fine, love, they're not gonna kill me. It's just to make sure you can take it, to weed out the weak ones. And I'm anythin' but weak,” he replied firmly, raising a brow at her. 

He knew it wasn't that she thought he was weak, knew it wasn't that she didn't believe in him. It was just the idea of him going through something horrible like that cut her bleeding gold heart in half. She cared about him, soft hearted sweetheart she was, and she didn't like the idea of him being hurt in any way. He could see she wanted to protest, wanted to confess her true feelings on the matter as her blue eyes swirled like twin stormy seas. She didn't though. She schooled her face, eyes glued to his chest where she toyed with the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“And you're sure?” She asked him, dragging her eyes to his face. The heaviness that looked back at him weighed him down as he nodded.

“I'm sure. Been wantin’ this for years,” he confessed but it felt like it left a bad taste in his mouth, saw the look that rapidly passed across her face. 

He hadn't meant to say it the way it came out but he knew his words would burrow deep in her insecure brain. Knew she realised he'd wanted this since before she was even in his miserable life and he knew she wouldn't protest it now. Felt a bit like manipulation to him despite that it hadn't been intended. Knowing she was soft for him, weak like he was for her. Knowing that she cared enough to not want to take his dreams away. But he didn't like the idea of his words twisting her arm like that, didn't like the idea of her once again putting others first and herself last ‘cause she thought that was how it should be. 

“If you really don't want me to, then I won't. You'll always come first, Charlotte, you need to know that,” he insisted sincerely and he meant every word of it. Fuck, if she told him to leave the army full stop and get a fucking office job like a monkey in a suit he'd do it for her. She looked away from him, licking her lower lip as she shook her head.

“You know I’d never ask you to do that,” she started with a frown and he did know but he still needed her to know. “How… how will it affect us?” she asked him carefully, still unable to look at him and he hated the wall it felt like she’d put up. He massaged her hips, watching her sadly as he tried to summon the words.

“Honestly, I dunno yet. I’ll have to leave for selection which takes about five weeks but then… if I’m selected… I’ll have to go through a lot of trainin’... I’ll be gone for most of the year,” he admitted and her face crumpled as she looked down quickly, her hands balling into fists with his shirt. She let out a shaky breath and it felt like someone had lodged a stone the size of his fist in his throat seeing her this way.

“Where will your new base be?” she asked in a whisper and he frowned, his heart thudding dully against his ribs.

“Herefordshire,” he answered. It was just over two hours away and while it didn't seem like much it still meant less time with her. If he stayed here and not on base then he’d have to get up much earlier to get there and he’d be home two hours late every night. It would be worth it though, he knew it would. He hadn't been away from her properly since his deployment back at the start of their relationship and he was glad that even though he’d be away longer, she at least had Tommy, Beth and his mum this time.

“When will you be going?” she asked him, eyes glued to his chest.

“January 7th,” he murmured and she nodded, taking a few deep breaths. 

“I… I won’t be able to contact you there, will I?” she asked knowingly and a deep ache formed in his chest at her words. When he'd released that himself it had been a hard pill to swallow but the SAS was highly classified which meant there would be no contact at all, that also went for any deployments he went on. 

“No, love,” he lamented. He didn't know what else to say, didn't know how to make this better for her as she sat there looking like she was trying to sort through her thoughts and feelings. He knew it was a lot to take in, a lot to spring on her, especially when it meant he’d be gone in only a couple of months. She looked so sad and it broke his heart. 

She didn't say anything more, just moved to lay her head on his shoulder and while his heart was heavy, he was glad for the closeness. He wrapped his arms around her, a hand cradling her head and playing with her soft hair. The quietness wasn't pleasant and it felt like it was suffocating him. After a long while, she seemed to have gathered herself enough as she sat up once again, looking at him now. A shot of fear ricocheted through him, suddenly panicked she was about to say she was leaving him.

“I love you,” she murmured softly and instantly eased his worries. He melted, dark eyes gazing up at her affectionately as he gave her a sad smile and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too, more than I could put into words,” he confessed. Relief flooded him when she smiled, as if he’d just witnessed one of the seven wonders of the world. 

“I’m… I’m upset… just because I worry about you and I'll miss you. But… I am proud of you. I don't really know what you have to do to even go for this but I know it isn't easy. I know you’ll pass it all with flying colours,” she said sincerely, her hands smoothing up his chest. 

Her words made his throat clog up, a warm emotion settling deep into his bones. Her approval, her belief in him, it was something he hadn't even known he’d craved from her, yet having it now meant more than his own CO telling him he knew he’d pass. He smiled at her, eyes shining with emotion as he cupped her cheek, watching as she leaned into his touch. 

“I know you’d never ask, but I’d give up everythin’ for you, Lottie and I hope you know that. You… You’re the most important person in my life and there isn’t a fuckin’ thing I wouldn’t do if you asked me to,” he blurted and her eyes widened a fraction, a pretty pink blush dusting her cheeks. 

“I hope you know that I feel the same,” she uttered softly and deep down he did know it because she was allowing him to go off chasing his dream even though it meant he’d be gone for almost a year with no contact. 

He gripped her jaw, pulling her down for a slow and gentle kiss. He tried to put all of his feelings into the kiss, all his love, his appreciation, his gratitude. She kissed him back, melting into him and he soaked her up like a greedy sponge. He had no idea how he was going to cope so long without her but then again, he’d be going through hell so his mind would be pretty preoccupied. 

A week passed by in a blink and at first, it had felt a little off. She tried her best to seem normal, act happy for him, but he could tell it was still playing over in her mind. He’d started to worry things wouldn't ever go back to normal, that he’d somehow broken the relationship and he didn't know how to fix it. Luckily though, as the week wore on, things started settling back to normal and he figured maybe she just needed time to wrap her head around it. Hell, he didn't think he’d fully wrapped his head around it yet and maybe he wouldn't until the day he was fucking off for almost a year, but he tried not to think about that. 

They’d had a pretty normal Friday night. He’d met her at her work, they’d gone home together and they cooked tea together, this time some cheeseburgers. After that, they’d snuggled up and watched some shitty TV and then went off to bed, knackered from a full day's work. It was such a simple routine yet it became one he craved. It was 2.56 am when his phone started ringing and he sat up like a shot, eyes darting around for a moment before he reached over and grabbed it from the bedside cupboard. Tommy’s name flashed on the screen and a sudden swell of dread smacked him in the face. There was no reason for his brother to call at his time, not unless something bad happened. What if something happened to mum?

“What is it?” he asked quickly as he pressed answer and Tommy snorted down the line.

“Wow, hi to you too, arse wipe,” he muttered playfully and the tone instantly made Simon relax. He wiped a weary hand over his face and shook his head.

“Any reason why you're callin’ at this time?” he bit out and Tommy took a deep breath.

“Beth went into labour last night, little Joseph was born an hour ago,” he breathed and Simon sat up straighter, an emotional warmth settling over him.

“Fuckin’ hell… is he… is he alright? Beth alright?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips that he couldn't have fought off even if he wanted. 

“Yeah, yeah, both really good. Labour was tough. Women are crazy, I tell you. I ain’t pushin’ something that size out of my fuckin’ fanny,” Tommy laughed and Simon shook his head incredulously as he breathed a chuckle.

“Good job you don’t fuckin’ have one then, innit?” he asked wryly and Tommy laughed down the line again. “You told mum yet?” he asked curiously.

“Told her when Beth started having the contractions, she’s been here this whole time,” Tommy chuckled and Simon smiled to himself. Didn't surprise him in the least, as if she’d miss the birth of her first grandchild. The line went silent for a moment and Simon didn't need to see his brother to pick up on his change in breathing, the shift that suddenly happened.

“I can't believe I’m a dad. I mean… I knew it was coming for nine months but… now he's here it just feels so real. What if I mess up? What if I end up like da-” he started anxiously rambling and Simon cut him off right away.

“You won't be. You're nothin’ like that fuckin’ cunt. You're gonna be a good dad, Tommy, just like you're a good husband. I’m happy for you,” he murmured, trying his hardest to stop his voice from wavering. His baby brother was all grown up and had a kid of his own. 

“That really means a lot from you, Si,” Tommy whispered and Simon swallowed thickly. 

“Do you want us to come down then?” he asked, glancing at the clock before at Charlotte who was beginning to stir, her eyes fluttering open blearily.

“No, not yet. Visiting hours aren't until 10 am so, come down then. I’ll text you all the details and stuff,” Tommy explained and Simon nodded despite him not being able to see. His eyes were on Lottie as she yawned, looking at him questioningly with her cute and sleepy face.

“Alright then, I’ll let you go. I’ll see you later,” Simon murmured and after Tommy said his goodbyes, he hung up.

“Who was that?” Charlotte asked sleepily.

“Tommy. Beth went into labour last night, Joseph’s here,” he smiled, pride filling him up like a fucking balloon. 

Her eyes went big like saucers and a beaming grin spread across her face. Before he knew what was happening, she was up, squealing something like ‘oh my god’ before diving off the bed. Problem was that her foot got stuck in the quilt and she hit the floor with a loud oof. He didn't know whether he should be worried or laugh. 

“Fuckin’ hell. You alright?” he asked in amusement, peering over the bed at her crumpled up form tangled in the blankets. The look she gave him was scathing and he couldn't help but laugh.

“Aren’t you excited to go and see him?” she asked him, giving him an accusing stare.

“‘Course I am but we can’t go yet anyway, visitin’ hours aren't until ten,” he explained, reaching out and grabbing her before hoisting her back into the bed. She flopped against him like she had no bones and he sunk back into the bed with her sprawled out on top of him.

 “I hurt my arse,” she whined, her lower lip jutting out in a little pout. His large hands smoothed down her back, cupping her arse cheeks and giving them a cheeky rub.

“Want me to kiss it better, love?” he asked impishly and she snorted, shaking her head.

“You wish,” she muttered and he hummed in agreement. He didn't stop massaging her arse cheeks and she relaxed even more on him.

“Should get some more sleep, yeah? We’ll go see ‘em in the mornin’ when it's time,” he suggested and she shook her head.

“I'm not tired,” she mumbled and he knew she was a barefaced liar because she could barely keep her eyes open. 

He huffed a laugh, not saying anything and allowing her to fall back asleep on her own. Didn't take long. It took him a little longer with how excited he was. He didn't think he’d be feeling this way when his nephew was born. Not because he hadn't been excited or anything, but this was a little overwhelming. He had no idea how Tommy himself must be feeling right about now if this was how he felt. 

Eventually he did fall asleep and then when they got up in the morning, the pair of them were full of anxious and excited energy. They were both dressed and ready to go by 9 am, a little early but Lottie was adamant she wanted to get gifts on the way. She’d gotten Beth some pretty white roses, interspersed between some baby’s breath. She’d bought Joseph a little dinosaur teddy and she didn't need to get Tommy anything because Simon already had that covered in the form of a cigar. He’d bought it a few months ago in preparation. When he asked Charlotte if he should get his mother something, they’d decided it would be a nice thing to do so he got her a mug that had the words 'world's best grandma’ on it. They topped it all off with a blue baby boy balloon and Simon had to force her to get going before she bought the entire shop. 

They arrived at the hospital at 10:06 am, checking in at the desk and then went to the room they were given. He was a little overwhelmed from the second he stepped foot in the room. His mum came to him first, wrapping him in a hug as she cried, blubbering about something, he couldn't understand her through her tears and they only got worse when he gave her the mug. Tommy was next as his mum latched onto Charlotte and Simon hugged his tearful brother, slapping him on the back roughly to compensate for his own damp eyes. 

“Congrats, Tom,” he murmured and Tommy grinned at him when he pulled away and he handed his brother the cigar. Tommy’s eyes lit up and he wound up with another hug for good measure. When he glanced around for Charlotte, she was no longer in his mother's grasp but was now next to Beth, giving her the flowers as she cooed over the baby in Beth's arms. Simon walked over, eyes glued to the tiny bundle Beth was holding and she looked up with a smile, eyes knackered, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Fuckin’ hell, he’s tiny, ain’t he?” he asked quietly, not wanting to bother the small boy. 

“He’s a baby, Simon, he’s supposed to be tiny,” his mother piped up from across the room and he levelled a look at her to tell her she wasn't funny. Tommy disagreed with him though as he snorted. 

“You should hold him,” Tommy declared excitedly and Simon could do little else but be shoved into the armchair beside the bed and then a baby was being placed in his arms. 

Tommy mumbled to himself as if reciting steps he’d been told, rearranging Simon’s arms to cradle the baby better. He was mumbling something about the head and a soft spot but Simon wasn't listening, he was staring at the baby. He was blinking up at him slowly, totally unbothered by the large man who was holding him and Simon felt a lump form in his throat as he smiled down at him. 

“Hey, little man,” he whispered, touching the tiniest hand he’d ever laid eyes on and the boy wrapped it around his finger.

“He’s adorable,” Lottie beamed, hovering next to him as she leaned down to get a good look at him. He looked up at her then and her soft eyes warmed him right up.

“You wanna hold him, sweetheart?” he asked her, still keeping his voice low. Her eyes widened and she stood up straighter, shaking her head frantically.

“Oh… no… I-” she rambled but Beth cut her off.

“You should hold him, Charlotte, you're his auntie,” she smirked and Lottie turned to her.

“What if I… What if I drop him?” she asked, sounding mortified. Tommy laughed at her question but Simon could tell she was deadly serious. 

“You won’t drop him, you can sit here,” Simon stood at a snail’s pace, terrified of dropping the boy himself. 

Once he was up, he gestured with his head and Lottie obediently sat down. Tommy came over then and Simon was glad because while he could handle guns, bullets and explosives, babies were a whole other fucking thing. Tommy took Joseph and gave Charlotte the same treatment, arranging her arms in a certain way. He could tell by her face that she was observing his movements carefully, as if trying to memorise them. Tommy placed Joseph in her arms before smiling triumphantly and moving away. 

Simon was helpless, unable to not look at her as she held the tiny boy so gently. She smiled down at him, a smile he’d never seen before which shocked him because he thought he'd seen them all, but this one was new. Reserved only for this special little boy who looked up at her curiously. She swiped a tender finger down his small face, eyes sparkling brightly as she watched him in awe. She looked enamoured with him, so full of love that he felt ready to burst at the seams watching her. 

A thought struck him then that startled the shit out of him. One where she was holding a different baby. One with blonde hair and dark brown eyes, one that was half her and half him. He’d never thought about kids before, been sure he wouldn't have any and didn't have the desire to either. But then again, he’d felt the same about relationships too, hadn't he? 

She’d thrown all that right out of the window and now she was doing it again because as he looked at her, he felt a deep yearning inside of him for something he never thought he wanted. Made him ache for it so badly he almost forgot how to breathe. Not yet, of course not yet, it was far too soon and he’d be fucking off to the SAS soon enough. But one day… maybe. He hoped.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Seventeen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Simon is secretly a big sap, confessions are made and Charlotte has some… fun with Simon  >:)

Nine Inch Nails - I Would For You

What a pathetic string of words

Just leave them lying on the floor

The warning posted on the door

Not over here, not anymore

There was a place that could have been

Step over all that used to be

Since you have let yourself come in

Some things I'd rather you not see

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

Didn't it seem like something more?

So long, I can't remember when

All this has happened all before

And this will happen all again

And I only have myself to blame

And I only have myself to blame

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

There’s a blissful moment just before you wake up where you aren't quite asleep but you're not awake either. It's this quiet space, a liminal space in your mind where you just linger for a while before you fully wake up. Simon felt like he was suspended in time and space, enjoying the feeling of the best kind of blankness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware it was later than he usually got up, yet he felt no urgency to force himself to wake fully. Had he booked the day off? Was it weekend? He couldn't tell you, couldn't fucking remember. 

A warm tingle started in his toes and swept up his entire body, making him hum softly in delight. He was unsure what the feeling was, yet he found himself wanting more of it. It happened again but it felt more intense, his stomach tightening as it ripped through his entire being and his eyes flew open with a ragged moan. He was dazed and confused, eyes frantic and wide as they darted around the room, only to find his girl between his legs, sucking on his very hard cock. Another needy moan left him as he watched her, feeling vulnerable in his half asleep state. She let his cock slip from her mouth with a pop, those blue eyes scanning his face carefully.

“Good morning, handsome,” she smiled, not giving him a chance to reply before she dove right back in and took him all the way in until he hit the back of her throat. 

A choked gasp tore from him, his hand flying to her head and holding her there for a moment as she spasmed around him. He released her and she went back to bobbing her head up and down, her soft, warm, velvety mouth massaging his cock for all it was worth and he couldn't hang on to save his life, not when she’d cornered him in the dazed state he was in. 

“That's it, just like that,” he moaned roughly, back arching as the pleasure increased at a rapid rate. She looked beautiful with her hair all mussed from sleep, her hazy blue eyes on him as she sucked on his cock like she was hungry for it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back into his head as he exploded, spilling himself right down her eager throat. 

The room was spinning and he couldn't get his bearings, he felt like he’d been washed out to sea and his body was shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. He started to come back down to earth when she lay beside him, a bright smile on her face as she tentatively touched his cheek, turning his head to her. He leaned into the touch, seeking her out, needing her. She seemed to sense his neediness and hooked her leg over him, pulling him closer as their bodies entwined.

“Happy birthday, Si,” she beamed and his heart softened, the world finally righting itself as he looked at her. It was his birthday, that was why he was off. Didn't feel much different now being 24.

“Thanks, love,” he replied with a lazy smile, reaching out and smoothing her hair away from her face. 

“What d’you want for breakfast?” she asked, allowing her hand to trail over his face as he’d once done to her, tracing over every feature with a featherlight touch. 

“Not fussed,” he shrugged, not really wanting her to get out of bed. 

He hadn't really planned anything for his birthday, he never really bothered with it much to the chagrin of Tommy and his mum. Lottie hadn't had any of it though, telling him that even if they just stayed home, she fully planned to celebrate him. It touched him enough that he'd allowed her to plan what she wanted but he wasn't sure if he'd given her too much power. She informed him the night before that they'd be going to a club later on but she was being all hush hush about most of it and he was unsure why. For the most part though, the day would be spent at home with her as per his request and she seemed content with that. 

“Come on, babe, pick,” she pouted and his heart jumped erratically at her words. Babe, that was a new one. He'd never been called babe before, didn't think he'd like it much and yet here he was, butterflies making his stomach feel like it might fall out of his arse. 

“Wouldn't say no to some bacon and eggs,” he murmured softly, eyes affectionately soft as he looked at her little proud smile that she'd got him to answer her question. 

She sat up and he watched, feeling forlorn that she wouldn't be laying with him anymore, placated for a moment as she leaned down and placed a sweet kiss to his lips. She hopped off the bed and he went to grab her, just missing her by a millimetre. 

“I didn't get to return the favour,” he frowned as it suddenly dawned on him. 

“You don't need to. It's your birthday and I wanna take care of you,” she replied, smiling at him as she pulled his shirt off the floor over her head.

“Lottie…” he started, fully intent on having to give her the lecture once again about how him ‘taking care’ of her wasn't a burden to him. In fact, he very much enjoyed it. 

“Simon,” she replied, using the same tone with a mock stern impression of him that made his eyes narrow. “I'm fine, you can touch me all you want after breakfast but I'm feeding you, so get over it,” she cocked a brow at him and he found himself slightly speechless by her sass, watching as she left the room and left him there alone. He had half a mind to put her over his knee and show her just what that attitude got her. 

Having no use in laying in bed alone, he heaved himself up, moving to get into some boxers and sweatpants. He left himself shirtless, knowing his girl liked it and wanting to give her something to look at. He caught his reflection on the mirror on the wall and he ran a hand through his hair. It was getting a bit longer and he knew he'd need to cut it again soon. Didn't half love it when she tugged on it though when he was devouring her sweet cunt. He moved out of the room, seeing her in the kitchen area humming to herself as she cooked. He allowed himself to stand in the doorway and just admire her for a moment. He was sure she was humming a Placebo song but he wasn't sure which one and she danced to her own humming, turning the bacon in the pan. He loved watching her like this, unguarded and utterly beautiful, when she didn't know he was watching. He crept up behind her, sneaking his arms around her and making her yelp. 

“Jesus fucking… you need a bell!” She chided, sagging against him as a hand went over her chest like she was about ready to have a heart attack. He chuckled, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her scent deeply. 

“Sorry, love,” he mumbled against her skin before kissing it, making her squirm against him. 

“You don't sound too sorry,” she pouted, a whine leaving her lips when he kept planting slow and wet kisses to the side of her neck. He laved at the skin with his tongue, a growl rumbling in his chest at something primal in him, something tugging at him to fuck her raw, make her his over and over.

“Simon,” she whined again, trying to wriggle from his grasp but he held her still. 

“Thought it was my birthday,” he knew he was playing dirty with his words but he was fucking hard again already and he wanted her. She scoffed, turning her head to send him a glare and he flashed her a grin. 

“I know what you're up to, Sergeant Riley and it won't work. I've got plans for you later so I suggest saving yourself,’ she muttered. He really wanted her but now he was well and truly intrigued. 

“Plans?” He asked, roguish smile tugging at his lips as a myriad of thoughts ran through his head at a rapid rate. 

“Yep,” she smirked, popping the p loudly. “I wanna try something… new. But it's a surprise, so behave yourself and sit down,” she pointed with the spatula to the dining table and he sighed, nodding like the obedient little dog he was. Damn his curiosity. 

Breakfast was delicious and he devoured it with gusto, taking note of her little smile as she kept glancing at him. She only had bacon, not as hungry as him it seemed and she hopped out of her seat when she finished before him. He watched her go into the bedroom curiously as he finished his food and then she came bounding back in. She plonked into the seat beside him, a bright smile firmly in place as she put a wrapped present on the dining table. He blinked at it for a moment as if he'd never seen such a thing, he hadn't really considered she'd get him something. 

“You didn't have to, love,” he murmured, glancing from the present to her. She tilted her head with such a condescending look on her face. He figured she felt smug at what she was about to say given the fact he was the one always saying it to her. 

“I wanted to. Now shut up and open it,” she snorted, pushing it closer to him. She was clearly excited but there was a nervous energy about her that he picked up on, noticing how she was nibbling her lower lip. 

He tore open the plain blue wrapping paper, brows rising and eyes widening a little at the box he found underneath it. He didn't need to open it to know what item lay inside, the name Cold Steel written on the box. Some kind of knife. He opened the box and his breathing felt like it ceased altogether. It was the AK-47 field knife and it was one he'd had his eye on for a bit. He got it out of the box, weighing it into his hand before twirling it expertly. Fuck, it felt good and he knew it would make a good addition to his collection. 

“Is it… is it okay? I wasn't quite sure what knife to get you but I figured a tactical one would be good,” she rambled anxiously and he tore his eyes away from the knife, landing on the pretty girl in front of him. Truth be told, she was the best gift he could ever ask for and he never needed another thing in his life. He did love the knife though and it warmed his heart that she knew him so well that her choice had been one from his own personal wish list. 

“It's perfect, sweetheart… You're perfect,” he breathed, raw honesty in his voice as he reached out and stroked her cheek. She flushed furiously, ducking her head with a shy smile. 

“No one's perfect, Simon,” she muttered shyly and he gripped her chin, making her look back up at him. 

“I beg to differ,” he smirked, raising a brow at her. She huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“If anyone’s perfect here, it’s certainly not me,” she murmured, giving him an obvious once over that had his ears burning. 

She got up to grab the dishes but he stopped her, arms around her as he pulled her onto his lap sideways. She laughed lightly as her arm went around his neck to steady herself and he just smiled up at her. He pulled her in for a kiss, taking his time as his tongue languidly toyed with hers. She smoothed a hand over his chest and he moaned softly, a hand digging into her thigh greedily. She pulled away with an amused grin. 

“Stop trying to seduce me, I told you to wait,” she smirked, tapping him on the nose before she jumped up and scooped up the plates. 

The day seemed to fly by despite doing nothing but snuggling on the couch together like he wanted. It had been the most relaxed and calming birthday he’d ever had and it had been nice to just take a step back and do nothing for once. He’d mentioned he fancied a curry so they wound up getting Indian for tea, a new place that was now his new favourite and his dupiaza was fucking delicious. When 7 pm rolled around, Charlotte glanced at the clock before peeling herself away from him.

“I’m gonna start getting ready. It's a nice place by the looks of it, found it on the internet,” she started, glancing him over and looking deep in thought. He wondered why she'd picked somewhere other than the usual pub they went to. He wasn't typically a club person if he was honest but she obviously picked it for a reason. 

“Your black jeans should be good… maybe a nice shirt or something,” she mused and he realised it must be a nice place if he needed to wear a shirt. 

“Alright, you get ready first, it won’t take me long,” he murmured, curious as to what she planned to wear and where the fuck they were going. She nodded, pecking him on the lips before prancing off to the bedroom. 

He lounged for a little longer, watching TV as he waited for her to come back. He didn't need to do his hair and he certainly didn't plan on wearing make up, so he only really needed to get his clothes on. He’d be ready in like 5 minutes. The bedroom door opened and he glanced at her, doing a double take as his eyes almost bugged out of his head. If he was in a cartoon, his jaw might have been on the floor. There wasn't an inch of her the black dress wasn't hugging tightly and it was so short that he almost marched her back to the bedroom and demanded she put pants on. He didn't though, he wasn't about to be a possessive arsehole who told her what she could and couldn't wear. Besides, he very much liked the view. He just hoped no one else fucking did. 

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling with a pretty smile on her face. She’d done her make up all pretty, smokey eyes making them stand out more and brown lipstick on her pouty lips. Her wavy hair was half up in some kind of braid, the rest flowing past her shoulders. Combined with the tiniest black dress in the world and some black wedges, she was certainly a sight.

“Look divine, sweetheart,” he hummed, moving to stand and walk over to where she stood blushing. 

He still towered over her even with the heels and she blinked those long, dark lashes up at him, making his stomach feel all funny. He took a moment, his dark eyes really taking her in and he couldn't believe he’d landed a girl like her, couldn't quite understand what she saw in him. He wanted to kiss her but didn't want to ruin her makeup so he settled on kissing her cheek, making her beam a smile at him. 

“I’ll go get ready, won’t be long,” he said before slipping off into the bedroom. 

He kept to his word, being ready in 4 minutes, black shirt, black jeans and his boots on. He’d splashed a bit of his cologne on for good measure and that was the extent of his grooming. His curiosity over where they were going was burning in him as he went back into the living area and he got a wolf whistle for the first time ever in his life. He hated how he blushed like a little girl when he snorted at her.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, making her laugh as she walked over to him. He had no idea how she could walk in the heels she was in. He'd never actually seen her in heels before when he thought about it, always those Docs she seemed to live in. 

“Ready?” she asked eagerly, now in her leather jacket too. Fuckin’ hell, he wanted to bend her over and fuck her into next week, but he remembered her promise of plans later on. 

“Ready,” he nodded, not bothering with a jacket of his own. It wasn't too cold despite it being the start of November and he always ran a bit hot. She took his hand, lacing their fingers together before they both left and got into the elevator.

She told the taxi driver where to go and he wound up in a part of town he’d never been before. They got out and she led him down the street, other people milling about and enjoying the night. The clubs looked a little more upscale, certainly not a place a man like him would go to. He kept quiet, trying to figure out just why they were coming here and when she stopped outside a sleek looking club, he saw the purple neon sign over the door reading ‘Pleasure Paradox’. 

His brows raised and he allowed her to guide him to the door, two massive bouncers giving them a once over before nodding and allowing them entry. He wasn't sure what he’d expected when she said she was taking him to a club but it sure as shit wasn't this. The first thing he noticed were the naked dancers on stage, dancing a pole and somehow making it look elegant and not cheap like the place he’d been to for Tommy's bachelor party. Everything was black, purple and silver, looking high end and a lot of the men in full blown suits. 

He felt a little out of place even in his nice jeans and shirt. It didn't escape him how some people were blatantly getting it on in the booths and he glanced at Lottie to see if she noticed, but she seemed dead set on finding the bar. He got dragged along by his hand until she stopped, waiting patiently to be served as the bartender went around tending to people.

“Lottie…” he murmured carefully, drawing her attention and making her nod. “A sex club?” he asked quietly, not wanting to offend anyone that wanted to be here. 

He knew they got up to all sorts of kinky shit but this felt a bit weird, like something they should have discussed beforehand and she’d always been good at that sort of shit. She never sprang shit on him, always wanted the green light to go ahead, especially after learning of his inexperience. This whole thing just rubbed him the wrong way and he wasn't sure why. She laughed, the sound slightly nervous as a blush crept up her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something when this swanky wanker in a black and red suit sidled up to her, far too close for Simon’s comfort, especially when he was still holding her fucking hand, making it obvious she was with him.

“What are you two having to drink?” he asked and when he settled a hand on Lottie’s shoulder, Simon’s vision almost went black. He clenched his jaw so tight that his teeth started to ache, his eyes zeroed in on the hand on his girl.

“Oh… uh…” Charlotte turned to him, her eyes pleading like she was unsure what to say and he hated, no, fucking loathed the fact he was so soft for her that he went along with whatever bullshit she was pulling on him. 

“Bourbon,” he grit out and the man nodded, waving over the bartender as he looked at Lottie questioningly. The man must be someone important since the bartender ignored all the others who had been waiting longer and went straight for Mr Prick.

“I don't know what to have, maybe one of the cocktails?” she sounded so unsure of herself and he was left once again baffled why she was even here. 

“You seem like a Cosmopolitan kind of girl,” the man smirked, giving the bartender the order. It took less than a minute and a glass was being shoved in his hand by the man who was far too touchy for his own good. 

“Benedict,” he grinned with a tip of his head and of fucking course the twat was called Benedict. The fuckers full name was probably something pretentious like Benedict Montgomery the fucking third. 

“I’m Charlotte, this is Simon,” Lottie flashed the man a smile that had Simon’s blood suddenly feel like lava running through his veins. His hand was still holding hers in a death grip, drink in the other and he took a large gulp of it, tugging her a little closer possessively. The man seemed to notice the move, eyeing Simon’s hand around Lottie’s and then he looked back at Simon with a patronising smile.

“First time swingers then?” he asked wryly and Simon blinked dumbly at him. 

Swingers. This was a fucking swingers club. There was something that felt akin to betrayal that shot through him violently as his eyes darted to Charlotte but she’d looked over at the booths across the room and he couldn't see her face. Was she avoiding him?

“I wouldn't mind sharing her with you,” the man smirked smoothly and Simon heard ringing in his ears. 

He clutched his glass so hard he thought it might shatter in his hands and when Charlotte laughed it only made it worse. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to deck the fucker, punch all of his perfectly straight teeth right out of his mouth. He didn't though. This club was clearly different, the man was just going along with it. He was the odd one out here and for a moment, he wondered why the hell Charlotte had brought him here. 

He felt sick as he slammed his glass down, letting go of her hand and storming away from them as he weaved through the sea of bodies. He sucked in a greedy lung full of air when he got outside but his feet didn't stop. The urge to get as far away as possible burrowed deep into his skin. He wasn't used to this feeling, this weird burning in his chest that scorched him from the inside out.  

“Simon! Simon, wait!” She called after him. He stopped, unable to keep going at her plea, but he didn't turn around. His whole body was held taut like a string about to snap, his hands clenched to fists by his side as he took in a shaky breath. 

“The fuck was this then? Am I not enough for you now?” He growled harshly as he turned around. He really couldn't help the burning insecurity and betrayal he was feeling at the idea she wasn't happy with him anymore, that she needed to bring in someone else. Hurt flashed across her face making her look as though he'd just struck her. 

“What? No! I-I didn't even…” she tripped over her words and something stabbed him deep in the chest when her lower lip trembled, her eyes glazing over with tears. 

“I didn't know the club was like that. I just… I wanted to bring you ‘cause of the dancers, I thought you'd like it. I never meant for that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted,” she blurted, her voice wobbling as she wiped her eyes furiously. It made the makeup smudge around her eyes and guilt shot through him like a 7.62mm bullet. What a right bastard he was to make her cry like this, to hurt her fragile feelings. He believed her too, believed she hadn't brought him here to try and bring someone else into their bedroom because he could see the sincerity all over her face. But then her words replayed in his brain and he frowned. 

“Why would you think I'd wanna see the dancers?” He asked her, watching how her cheeks flushed as she looked away. She wrapped her arms around herself in the way she did when she was trying to distance herself. His frown deepened as he took a few steps towards her. 

“I… I don't know. They're… different… New and exciting, I guess. I thought you'd like it, they're pretty,” she murmured quietly. He blinked at her, his chest feeling heavier by the second as he took in her demeanour. He’d seen her look self conscious a fair few times, no doubt a result of her upbringing and then her twat of an ex, but this was different. She looked like a wilting flower and it physically hurt him.

“New and excitin’? You think that's what I want?” he asked carefully, his voice thick as his throat constricted. She opened her mouth before snapping it shut again, a distraught look crossing her face.

“I don’t want you to get bored of me,” she admitted quietly, her eyes full of pain and her cheeks pink. It felt like his chest caved in and he tilted his head as he gave her an incredulous look.

“Why the fuck would I get bored of you, love?” he asked with a shake of his head. 

He tried to keep his voice soft because the poor girl looked ready to shatter at a moment's notice. He watched it happen right before his eyes as she looked down, a small sob ripping from her lips that broke his black heart in two. He wasted no time in stepping into her space, cupping those pretty cheeks that were stained with her tears and makeup. He tilted her face to look at him and she scrunched her face up as more tears fell, looking like she’d just been shivved.

“Everyone gets bored of me, Simon. Ethan, Jessica, even my mum and dad. Everyone reaches a point where they just… don’t care anymore. And I don’t… I don’t want that to happen with you,” she cried softly and he wrapped his arms around her, caging her against his chest as he stroked the back of her head. 

His poor sweet girl had been through far too much bullshit for the sweet little thing she was. Hearing the venom that was poisoning her mind made him feel physically sick, not knowing how long those thoughts had been burrowing in her mind like a fucking parasite. He tried to figure out an appropriate response in his head, not wanting to come out with something that would make the situation worse. She was fragile right now, that much was clear and it was his job to glue her back together. Words were hard for a man like him, always had been, so he decided to show her something instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go back home, need to show you somethin’,” he murmured. She blinked her tearful eyes at him looking confused but she nodded. Maybe she was grateful to get away from prying eyes in the street or away from the damn club that started all this bullshit, but he was glad she didn't ask questions. 

Getting the taxi back, Simon felt nerves bloom in his belly at what he was about to do. He’d do it for her. Do it because she needed reassurance, do it because she needed him and there wasn't a world where he wouldn’t do whatever she needed of him. He led her inside their place, shutting the door behind her. She kicked off her heels, a morose look on her face that reminded him of the day they met. 

This wasn't exactly how he thought his relaxing birthday would go but something in him told him this was a long time coming and what he was about to do really needed to happen. He moved behind her, gently taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hook by the door. 

“Sit down, yeah,” he gestured with his head to the sofa and she complied, padding over and slumping down. He looked at her for a moment before wandering into their room, crouching beside the bed before pulling out a shoe box. He got back up and wandered out to the living area, moving to sit next to her. Even with makeup smeared around her red rimmed eyes she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. Her blue hues darted to the box in his hands and he set it on her knee, making her confusion grow.

“Open it,” he urged, trying to ignore the huge spike of fear that shot through him at his own words. He was about to make himself the most vulnerable he’d ever been and it fucking terrified him. 

She looked at him warily for a second before prying the lid open and setting it on her other side on the couch. She blinked at the contents before starting to pull some things out to look at. The first thing was a receipt for the stuffed dinosaur he’d gotten her from the museum. The next was the movie tickets from when they went to see Final Destination 3. Every receipt from Cafe Metro where she’d scribbled a little note on them for him, every letter she’d written him when he was deployed, a picture of the pair of them with Tommy and Beth from Beth’s birthday, a picture of her and his mum in his mum’s garden as they both planted some flowers. She pulled out the strip of pictures they’d had done in a photo booth, one of which he’d cut off and put in his wallet, wanting to carry it with him wherever he went. The last thing she pulled out from the very bottom was the bus tickets dated from the night they met. Her eyes snapped to him, glassy and shining in the light.

“You kept all this?” she asked incredulously, her eyes searching his face before she shoved everything back in the box. He felt the blush dusting his cheeks but he tried to ignore it.

“I did… Kept it ‘cause… ‘cause I love you, Lottie,” he admitted, his voice wavering as he uttered those words he’d held in for so long. 

He thought he’d broken her for a long moment as she stared at him without blinking. Started to worry him, started to think he’d fucked it all up by telling her, but then a blinding smile overtook her face and he didn't think he’d ever seen her so radiant. Gone was all the earlier sadness, all the self doubt, in its place was pure happiness that made him feel like a grenade had gone off in his chest and left nothing in its wake. 

“You love me?” she asked hopefully, wide eyes sparkling at him. 

“I do. Have for a long time,” he breathed, feeling terrified and relieved all at once now it was out in the open. “And I’m not expectin’ you to say it back, that's not why I said it. I just… you got no need to worry about me gettin’ bored of you, Charlotte. You're… everythin’ to me. You’re my reason to exist, my fuckin’ oxygen. I’d never get bored of you for as long as I’m still walkin’ the earth,” he implored, baring his bloody and beating heart for her, on his knees begging her not to crush it. 

The box got plonked on the floor and then she was on him, on his lap as her lips claimed his with such desperation it made his head spin. He kissed her back hungrily, hands gripping her hips as she pressed herself impossibly close to him. When she pulled away, she was still smiling and he knew that this was all he wanted in life. He didn't care about anything else, all he wanted was her. 

“I love you too,” she smiled and it was his turn to stare unblinking for a moment. He thought maybe he’d heard wrong, but then she gripped his cheeks, radiant smile still painted on her perfect lips. “I’ve loved you for ages but I was scared of saying it. Thought you’d run off,” she snorted with a blush and his whole body sagged in relief.

“Guess we’re both fuckin’ idiots then,” he replied and she laughed, moving to press her face in his neck, nuzzling him. 

He sighed in content, a blazing warmth starting in his chest and warming up every crevice of his being. She loved him back, had done for a while. He couldn't even place the emotion he was feeling right now, a happiness he’d never quite experienced before. He held her tightly, hand splayed on her back to keep her close as he pressed his nose to her hair. 

He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders now. He’d said it and she’d said it back. He didn't have to bottle it up and keep it to himself anymore, he could tell her every time he got the fucking urge, which was all the fucking time, and it wouldn’t be a problem. She loved him. For some reason unknown to man, Charlotte loved the mess that was Simon Riley and he couldn’t be fucking happier about it. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” she murmured against his neck and his fingers rubbed her scalp.

“Didn’t ruin anythin’, love,” he replied, using the grip on her hair to move her face, making her look at him. “But… someone did say they had plans for me,” he raised a brow with a smirk, watching the way her eyes lit up with excitement and he suddenly wondered just what he was getting himself into. 

“I did. Come on,” she grinned, far too eager for his liking but he allowed her to get up and take his hand. 

He followed her to the bedroom, watching as she tugged her tiny dress off and then her underwear. He took his own clothes off, figuring he might as well save her a job and waited to see what she wanted him to do,

“Will you lay down for me?” she asked sweetly, fluttering her lashes and he was powerless to resist her. He lay on his back, relaxing, his eyes lazily watching as she crouched beside the bed and rummaged in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. She stood back up with a triumphant smile, handcuffs in her hands. He’d enjoyed using them last time and he smirked to himself, about to move so she could lay down instead and he could cuff her. Imagine his surprise when she shoved him back down, kneeling between his legs and giving him a wicked grin. It clicked then and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

“You wanna cuff me?” he asked slowly, the dominant animal he had inside of him snarling at the prospect. Yet the cheeky and hopeful look on her face made him curious to try it, to see what it would be like to have her in control for once. 

“Only if you're okay with it,” she murmured and he nodded, making her smile. 

“I’m up to try it,” he shrugged and she leaned over him with the cuffs, encircling one of his wrists with them. Her delectable tits were right in his face and his free hand came to grab one, his mouth wrapping around her nipple and suckling on it greedily and making her gasp.

“Simon!” she chided with a giggle, squirming against him in a way that felt divine. God, it wouldn't take much to take the power back, would it? She was always so pliable for him. 

He let her go with a dark smirk, allowing her to take his other hand and cuff him to the headboard. She jerked on them a little and then hummed, seemingly satisfied with his restraints. She moved back to kneel between his legs, tilting her head as she observed him. Made his cock twitch the way her eyes devoured the sight of him all trussed up for her, a predatory gleam in her blue eyes. His breathing hitched when her soft hands smoothed up the inside of his thighs and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” she purred and maybe those words should have embarrassed him but he moaned instead, cock jumping against his stomach as something dark flashed behind his eyes. He nodded and she tutted at him, moving to hover over him as she bit her lip with a grin.

“Use your words,” she ordered and why did that make his dick ache so badly?

“Yes,” he breathed softly and her grin turned into something almost sinister.

“You can do better than that, Simon,” she raised a brow.

“I’ll be a good boy,” he murmured and she looked like she might just purr in delight at his words. Her lips claimed his demandingly and he surrendered to her, enjoying having her take the reins. 

When she pulled away, her teeth nipped at his lower lip and he groaned, fire spreading over him as she tugged it before letting it go. She started kissing down his jaw and then his neck and he titled his head, soft moans leaving his lips as he revelled in her attention. His hands instinctively went to grab her as he always did but instead he couldn't move them, the metal clinking against the headboard as he tried and a growl rumbled in his chest at the spark of frustration. He really wanted to touch her. 

She chuckled against his neck before sucking on it harshly and he knew it would leave a mark. A long drawn out moan left him and he arched up, wanting to feel her cunt that he knew would be dripping for him but she moved away every time he tried, denying him of the friction he was badly craving. Her kisses moved down to his chest, giving him a cheeky bite every now and then and by the time she got to his stomach, he was a writhing mess. He’d never been teased before, this whole thing was new but he was on the brink of insanity with how much he ached for her. She hadn't touched his cock once. 

“Charlotte…” his brows furrowed, hips bucking and finding nothing but air to greet him. 

“You need something?” she asked mischievously, sucking a hickey just above his hip bone and drawing another ragged moan from him. 

“I need you,” he bit out, starting to get agitated with being kept away from her touch. She looked up at him through her lashes, kissing his stomach just next to his cock, so close he felt her breath against it and he whimpered, something he’d deny until the day he died. 

“Is that how you ask for something like a good boy?” she asked roughly and he felt so frustrated that he was sure he was about to cry. Is this how she felt when he teased her? Fuckin’ hell, it was torture yet he didn't want it to end.

“Please. Please fuckin’ touch me,” he begged, too far gone to feel ashamed at the notion. The grin she gave him was something he’d never seen on her face but he didn't have time to think about how his angel had turned into a villain because then she was grasping his cock in her hand. Even the small contact made a raw moan leave his lips and he felt ready to go off at a moment's notice.

“Don’t cum, not until I tell you to,” she demanded, eyes narrowed as if she could read his mind and he nodded, lungs unable to get air properly. 

His eyes were glued to her, watching as she leaned down and licked a thick stripe up his cock and fuck did it feel good. The strangled noise he made told her as much too. She took him into her mouth and his head fell back, moaning wantonly as he started thrusting up into her mouth. She didn't like that, moving off him and giving him a firm look. 

“Do you want me to touch you or not?” she asked him as if she was scolding a child. His cheeks flushed and he made a pained noise, his hands tugging on his cuffs. She made no move to touch him, still giving him that stony glare and his cock was throbbing.

“Yes… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he whispered in a raw voice and she smirked, moving to crawl over him and he could almost taste the impending relief. He half expected her to tease him more, to withhold her precious pussy from him, so he was more than pleasantly surprised when she lined him up and sunk down onto him without preamble. The noise he made was embarrassing and the cuffs strained against the headboard as he desperately tried to reach out and touch her. 

She rested her hands on his firm chest as she started to move up and down. He was so worked up that he knew he wouldn't last long yet worried what she’d do if he came without her permission. That and he didn't like to cum before her but he could do little about it when he was restrained like this. She didn't waste time, didn't take it slow, didn't tease him. She started bouncing on his cock with such force, her tits were jumping up and down and he was helpless to lay there and make noises like an animal in mating season. 

Her own moans were needy and he knew she’d probably teased herself with what she’d done to him, getting off on bossing him about. He knew because that's exactly how he felt when he was in control. He took a chance by rutting up into her but she seemed too into her own pleasure to chide him for it and he took the tiny slither of control she was allowing him, using it to fuck her harder, deeper. 

Her face was a picture and he was enraptured. Her mouth open as she moaned, eyes screwed shut as she chased her own pleasure, used his body to get off. It didn't take much longer before she was gasping, squirming on his cock as she came hard. He could barely breathe, his moans raw and painful as he tried his best not to spill his load into her when her cunt milked him so well.

“Lottie, please. I can’t- I need-” he gasped desperately and she nodded, fighting through her own pleasure that had temporarily blinded her as she picked up her pace bouncing on his cock.

“You can cum. Want you to fill me up,” her sinful words pushed him right over the edge and he came with a roar, vision going white for a moment as he gave her every drop he had. 

He felt weightless, like his body was gone and he was nothing but a puddle. Felt like there was nothing left of him at all. He couldn't open his eyes, his high wrapping around him like a snake. He felt the cuffs release, the sensation of his arms finally coming back to him as she gently put them by his sides. He opened his eyes, lazily looking at her through his hazy mind. She was radiant as she looked him over, concern shining behind those pretty blue eyes and when he smiled at her, she relaxed infinitely. He grabbed her, glad to finally be able to and stopped her from getting off him, wanting to keep his cock inside her a bit longer. She lay right on top of him and she giggled, splaying herself over him with her face in his neck. 

“Was that okay?” she asked softly, her hand rubbing his chest. His own hands were wandering her body greedily, soaking up the silky feel of her skin.

“Perfect. Wouldn't get used to it though, we all know who’s really in charge here,” he murmured tiredly and she snorted, kissing his neck sweetly. 

He could feel her breathing start to even out, tiredness taking hold of the pair of them and he knew this wasn't the most comfortable sleeping position but he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. His hand smoothed up her back, holding her close as he pressed his face into the top of her head.

“I love you,” he whispered, glad he could just say it now. He felt her smile against his neck and she snuggled even closer to him.

“I love you too,” she replied, rubbing her nose against the sensitive skin she’d previously marked. “Happy birthday, Simon,” she added and he pressed a kiss to her head. Despite the hiccup with the club, he could say this was his best birthday ever. She loved him back and he still couldn't quite wrap his head around how he got to be so lucky. Loving a mess like him was the best gift she could ever give him and he wouldn't take it for granted. 

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc