all you wanted was to bring simon his lunchbox, but the new recruits saw you as nothing more than an joke. they learn the hard way that no one can mess with the lieutenant's wife.
tags: hurt/comfort, angsty, wife!reader, husband!ghost, hurt!reader, simon riley is a devoted husband
the clock had long since struck midnight when simon finally made his way home. he eased himself onto the bed, careful not to make any noise, not wanting to wake you up. his muscles ached, his eyes burned after sleepless nights, but none of that mattered the moment he held you in his arms.
he placed a kiss on your forehead, soft, barely there, afraid to interrupt your sleep. his lips lingered a second longer than necessary, just breathing you in.
you smelled like home.
"i'm back." he whispered into the dark, more to himself than to you. he pulled the covers up a little higher over your shoulder, tucked you tightly beneath them, and finally let his heavy eyes rest.
the following morning you'd woken up early, before the sun had even rise to make him a warm meal.
the snow had been falling for days, making it hard for you to reach the military base. you clutched the lunchbox to your chest, your fingers numb from the fierce wind.
here you were now, fidgeting with your hands, as you slowly approached the base. you had been here before, once, when simon forgot some urgent documents in his office at home and asked you to deliver them.
the guard at the gate barely glanced at you before exclaiming "training yard's to the left," he said, his voice bored "lieutenant is probably there."
you thanked him with a whisper and made your way through the gates.
you spotted some recruits as you came to the proximity of the field.
"excuse me," you called softly, clearing your throat. "i'm looking for lieutenant riley."
a young soldier turned, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, probably wondering what were you doing in a place like that. he was taller than you, double your size, but not as big as simon, and his piercing eyes made you shiver.
"and you must be?" the soldier sneered, his tone dripping with arrogance. "do you think anyone can meet him?"
"i-i'm here to bring him his lunch," you said, showing him the bag that was held tight to your chest.
the soldier turned around, exchanging a glance with his friend. "his lunch? you his personal errand girl?"
the other recruit laughed, joining the teasing. "im sure lieutenant doesn't need a little thing like you bringing him food. he's got proper food here. not whatever home cooked rubbish you've got in there."
your cheeks flushed, heat rising to your face. "it's not uhm... like that. he forgot it this morning. i just wanted to-" you began to stutter, avoiding their mocking gaze.
"you wanted to what? speak louder won't ya?" the first soldier stepped closer, leaning down to reach your eye level "a stupid girl who can't even make a simple sentence without stuttering wants to see him? you think you're special?"
"i-i'm his wife," you managed to say but you could feel your eyes begin to well up.
the soldiers stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. the sound was loud and mocking, echoing through the corridors. "right," the first one said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "and i'm the captain. nice try, love. lieutenant riley doesn't have a wife. everyone knows that."
you wanted to correct him but got quickly interrupted.
"look, sweetheart," the second recruit cut in, "we don't have time for this. he's a busy man." he gestured vaguely to the gates "you need to leave. now."
"b-but I'm telling you the truth," you said, your voice trembling. "i'm n-not lying."
the first soldier rolled his eyes. "you're not authorised to be here," he said, his voice hardening. "if you don't leave on your own, we'll have you escorted out."
"i-i have a pass," you said, fumbling in your pocket. "i have a visitor's pass. see?" with shaking hands, you held your pass.
the soldier snatched it from your hand, glancing at it briefly before tossing it to the ground. "probably stolen," he said dismissively.
"get the fuck out now." the second soldier said, as he grabbed your arm and began pushing you toward the gate.
you stumbled, falling down on your butt, then the gate was slamming shut behind you.
you stood there, frozen. you reached for your phone to call your husband but it wasn't there. in a hurry to leave the house, you left it on the kitchen counter.
this is why ghost always tells you to be more careful with your belongings.
"clumsy little girl." was what simon would often call you.
the snow continued to fall, piling up around you. you were going to freeze out here.
you were so cold you could barely hear a distant voice calling your name.
the voice was low and behind his mask you saw a strangely familiar face. you lifted your head, your vision blurry with tears and snowflakes, and found yourself staring at a bearded man. his dark eyes were the only thing you could see.
"oh, john." you breathed, and then you were sobbing. "i...they didn't believe me...i couldn't...i just wanted to bring him lunch and they-"
"hey, it's alright," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. he stepped forward, shrugging off his heavy coat and draping it over her shoulders. it was too big, swallowing you whole, but it was warm. "come on. let's get you inside."
he led you through the gate once again, past the recruits who had just thrown you out. price didn't say a word to them, but the look he shot them held a lot of warnings.
the captain guided you to a chair, sat you down, and knelt in front of you.
"are you hurt?" he asked, checking for any possible injury.
you shook your head, scared your voice would betray you. "j-just c-cold. r-really cold."
price's eyes hardened. "i'll take care of it."
he pulled out his phone and called simon.
the recruits were still in the yard when ghost appeared, and the shift in the atmosphere was immediate. his mask was pulled tight, but it did nothing to conceal the fury radiating from his posture.
"which one of you," he said, his voice low and threatening, "did it?"
the first recruit, the one who'd laughed at you, tried to play it cool. "lieutenant, there was some woman trying to get in, claimed to be your wife. i mean its ridiculous, uh? but i handled it."
"you handled it," ghost repeated, with a nod; his voice flat, emotionless. "you fucking handled my wife."
the colour drained from the recruit's face. "sir, i didn't, we didn't know-"
"i will deal with you later." simon spat out, not sparing them another glance.
he crossed the yard in a few long strides, his hands shaking with fury. he found you in the common room, wrapped in price's coat. you were still clutching the lunchbox, and the sight of it, the sight of you being so pitiful, nearly made him lose the control.
his hands found your waist, and then you were pulled into his arms, crushed against his chest so tightly you could feel the frantic beating of his heart. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the fabric of his mask damp and warm against your skin, and wrapped his arms around you like he was afraid you'd dissolve if he loosened his grip even a bit.
he pulled you into his arms, crushing you against his chest.
"sweetheart," he breathed, the word cracking somewhere in his throat. "i'm sorry. fuck."
"it's okay," you whispered, your fingers clutching his shirt. "y-you're here."
"no, it's not alright." he pulled back, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "i will never, ever let that happen again."
he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closed. his fingers were stroking your cheeks, trying to warm you.
he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward his quarters. his arms were strong and steady, as you whimpered from the cold.
"price," he called over his shoulder, "round them up. i'll deal with them properly later."
the door to his quarters closed behind you, and simon set you down gently on his chair. he knelt in front of you, his hands working to unzip your coat, to peel off the wet layers.
"bastards," he cursed under his breath. "i'll kill them all."
you flinched, but were too exhausted to speak, so you let him wrap you in his clothes, and hold you until the shaking stopped. wrapped by simon's thick scent and his body warmth, you soon fell asleep from the exhaustion.
outside, the recruits stood shivering in the yard, watching the snow pile up around their boots.
ghost quickly crossed the yard, his face a mask of cold fury, and grabbed the first recruit by the throat.
simon's fist quickly connected with the soldier's jaw, a sickening crack echoing through the silent yard. then he turned to the second one, the one who'd grabbed your arm.
"your turn." the man tried to run, but price was there, blocking his path. ghost caught him by the collar, dragging him back, and drove his feet into his stomach. one kick, two kicks, until he collapsed, unconscious, into the snow.
"get them off my base," he said to john.
and from that day on, whenever you walked into the base, every soldier snapped to attention, avoiding looking at you, because they all knew, without a single doubt, that simon riley would kill to ensure your safety.
Simon likes to joke about the age difference between you two. And by joke, we’re talking about jokes that are too real to be jokes.
He knows that the age difference makes people side eye or do a double take. He’s aware that he receives strange looks when he tells people that his partner is twenty years younger than him.
It wasn’t intentional; it wasn’t like he was specifically scoping out someone younger than him. He wasn’t a goddamn creep, cut him some slack.
The two of you connected over something entirely so dumb. He had caught you staring at a cereal box at a grocery store with the most disgusted look on your face. “Can you believe they changed the design on the box?” you had asked him.
And all he could do was stare down at you with the flattest expression imaginable. Here you were, a stranger, speaking to him like you came in the store with him. But he played along, “Wouldn’t be the first. You’re too young to know what the first design looked like.”
Since that one singular conversation, his life has changed; a complete switch. Instead of his usual “Leave-Me-Alone-It’s-Bourbon-Saturday,” his weekends now consist of date nights with you.
Or “Taco-Mondays” (because Taco Tuesday was so overused in his mind), had now become “Simon gets to spend Mondays trying out new restaurants with his new partner.”
He felt young again; remembering that life was more than gunshots and gun wounds. Or that summer wasn’t just a long mission in the middle of a country he’s never been to but rather, a long weekend getaway while the sun burns the fuck out of his back.
“You got daddy issues,” Simon randomly said as he laid ontop of your beach towel. His sunglasses covered his eyes, a blob of sunscreen was on his nose, and his arms rested by his sides like he was ready for the summer heat to wash him away.
The beach was full of people; all setting up their little spots and kids running away from the gentle waves. You stared down at Simon, whom looked too comfortable tanning. Since when the fuck do men like him tan? Apparently, since he started dating you. “That came out of nowhere,” you replied, glaring down at him.
“Just saying, love. Not everyone wants to date a man who looks like he could be your father’s friend,” Simon replies without a second thought. He didn’t move— you barely noticed his lips move. That’s how serious he took his tanning.
A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you glanced over at the water, the small waves bringing in sand before throwing it back. “Yeah, it’s really not my fault you’re like… fifty and past your prime,” you joked back. “You probably have to pop a viagra to get it up before we fuck,” you added with a shit-faced eating grin.
It’s become a running joke of who could make who feel more uncomfortable at this point.
“Hey,” Simon began and finally shifted. “First of all, I’m not fifty. And second of all—“ he propped himself up with his elbows before turning around to lay on his stomach, “my dick’s twenty years older than you and you take it well, so.”
my mom was the first person to ever body shame me, and she was also the reason why i hate my body every single day, she started me on EDs, but hey, she claims jesus is king
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